I seem to go through writing spurts. Times when I feel like I could write everyday and times when I feel like I have nothing to say that even I would want to read. This has been one of those times when I pretty convinced even my mom would not want to read my writing, and she reads everything! So the question becomes- how do I get out of this slump? For today, I decided I would just write. I am not going to worry about writing a post that will attract multiple readers or even impress my mom, instead I am going to write. Because writing is my soul-food. It is my outlet. This blog is a corner of the world that is mine. It is my canvas, my therapist, and my anti-depressant. (Especially as the weather lately has been less than conducive for running) So here goes..
Life, I am convinced, is the greatest teacher. I have learned more from simply living life then I ever learned in my textbooks or from my professors. The day in, day out decision-making processes that direct our every move are often the greatest teachers. However, those day in, day out decisions can also be the source of the biggest mistakes and the deepest hurts. One simple conversation, one wrong yes or no, one misplaced affection and all of a sudden it feels as though life is spinning out of control and unraveling faster than you can roll up the yarn. Sadly, sometimes it is not even our fault, sometimes it is the result of another person’s wrong yes or no, their misplaced trust, or careless words. So what do you do? How do you pick up the pieces? And perhaps how do you even determine which pieces to pick up? I am convinced sometimes things are best left in the past. Sometimes the yarn is best left unraveled for now. And sometimes in those moments, we see life most clearly and learn the biggest lessons.
As I have spent the past few months processing and transitioning, I have surely made my fair share of mistakes. I have hurt people I did not mean to hurt and surely left a wave of careless words and perhaps poor decisions in the wake. The thing is, going from living on a 14×5 mile island to living in a city way bigger then that, in a state even bigger has left me feeling a bit lost and out-of-place. Perhaps even a bit voiceless. Sometimes I think my attempt to be heard, to be known, to be included got lost in translation. And in the midst, I have been left feeling lost in the translation. And in that I lost some of my footing, lost the solid ground on which I was so sure of two months ago. Lost the motivation, determination, and discretion that I usually hold so strong to. With any such feelings, there comes a point when action must be taken. When I have to stand up, dust off the dirt, and move forward. It may be easier to sit in the dirt and cry, but really all I am doing then is making mud. And mud doesn’t really do anyone any good.
Where do you start? I vote at the end of the yarn. Perhaps first you need to cut off some of it, but then with each step forward, each decision made, each lesson learned, slowly the yarn starts to become a shape. It starts to be more than a pile of yarn. It becomes the thread of our life. Because each mistake, each hurt, each season of feeling lost is not in vain. They build you, grow you, and bring wisdom with them that ensures next time, you will attempt to handle the situation differently. That next time you will go with your gut or pray harder or ask for counsel. I know that my season on my island has ended. And now a new season of a job, graduate school, and a settled life has begun. And each new season brings new challenges, new experiences, and new memories. Therefore, I will pick up the pieces that should be picked up, leave the ones behind that are better left in the past, and move forward where I am. It is all part of growing up and as I leave my early 20’s and enter my mid 20’s, I am learning that sometimes growth hurts and sometimes life spinning out of control can be the exact thing that brings everything back into focus.
