False Starts & Indefinable Fresh Beginnings

False starts and fresh beginnings. We've all had our fair share of those.

Just when I think that things are finally falling into place, life shifts and I'm thrown against a corner with the breath knocked out of me and my heart making a break for it. The problem is, my heart's got nowhere to go. The exact direction has yet to be determined.

The words escape me. What was I thinking? Why did I say that? I can't take it back. Did he really mean what he said? The part about me being a "worthwhile challenge"? I can't for the life of me, fathom why.

All I did was paint the world the way I saw it. The way I dream it, sing it. Live it. The way I twist my doubts, wring them in my hands and set them free, turning them into hope. Hope for the better, hope for the right answers, hope for the possibilities, hope for the future. All this, my odd and misplaced philosophy. Yet I never once considered myself to be a philosopher. I'm just someone who likes to think.

Am I really that strange? Am I really that crazy for thinking that I can live my life outside the confines of a  black-and-white box? Am I foolish to believe that I have the freedom to choose which combination of right ideas will be the hues that color my world? Am I naive to believe that I am the master of my doubt, that I can bend my doubt like a helium balloon and set it free so that it does not stomp on my free-spirit?

Sometimes he talks a mile a minute, and I'm still hung over the first words that left his lips.

I don't know why I bother so much.

Arguing in circles. There's a reason why they're pointless. You forget why you cared so much in the first place. Taking a stand and then you forget your purpose as you trip over the semantic wires you used to tie up your argument. You then end up tying your own tongue with words you hope you won't have to eat later.

In the middle of washing dishes, in the midst of reorganizing my bookshelves, in the hours I spent at the laundromat watching the clothes spin in repeated circles, I felt it: that first inkling, that indefinable emotion, the way my heart slowed down for just a tiny beat the moment the thought surfaced in my mind: it bothered me.

It bothers me that I care.

It bothers me that I'm even writing this, wondering why he's even got me thinking about questions that I thought I answered long ago based on the premise that you can't always ask the same question twice. Situations may be similar, but there will always be the nuances, the subtleties that people often tend to look over and forget. There are black-and-white issues, but there aren't always clear-cut answers. The circumstances determine the form the answers will take, so I have come to believe, and continue to believe despite his prior efforts to change my mind.

Why did he want to change my mind so badly anyway? It bothers me to think that he cares about what I think. It bothers me even more to think that I could be completely off the mark in making this assumption.

I don't want to think that this is another one of those false starts, another one of those foolish moments when my imagination usurps my reason. It's a scary thought, one that leaves me awake at night, awaiting the next day with breathless anticipation.

Do dare give this thought, this breathlessness, weight? Do I dare utter the words out loud, write it down on paper, record it into this media for all the world to see?

I'm not sure if I will just yet.

But I'm not going to cross my fingers or twiddle my thumbs while the hours pass. Instead, I think I'll reorganize my closet. Read a book. Take a walk. Write some more crappy poetry until I finally get the words right. Maybe then I'll have some more answers, whatever form they shall take. Maybe then I'll finally step up with the courage to say the very words I dare not speak.

I'd like to believe that it's just the sun rising, gently brushing new colors onto a fresh beginning. Whatever this is, whatever it turns out to be, I hope it's all for the better.

Maybe it won't even bother me at all anymore, and I won't mind so much that I care. This should be interesting.

Esc

I think I've grown a little rusty in writing poems. I just hope I can learn a few more tricks and techniques once I take that poetry workshop this semester.

Until then, this is one of the things I have to work with, called "Esc." Feel free to be as honest as you want to be and let me know what you think of it. Writing is a learning process, after all. Thanks!

"Esc"

The never knowing

The moment you shake your leg, tap your foot,

Rake trembling hands through your hair, 

Teeter in your seat

Wonder if the message you sent

Ever reached the inbox

"Delivered," your screen reports

Yet you feel anything but saved

"Delete" you want to press,

But you can’t backtrack to that space

Shifting restlessly

So you go to your bed and lie in it

Sleep, that natural route of circumvention,

When one drinks dreams from that cup called denial

You never authored anything

Your fingers never touched that keyboard

Your prints aren't etched between each binary-embedded word

Each invisible pixel between the spaces of each

Letter you wish you’d never typed

The only thing retracted:

The only thing that ever mattered and meant the world

And even when the sunlight spills through the window and

Hits the speckled eggshell walls of your room

You’re sitting up, listening to your lungs expand and collapse,

Watching the shadows rise and ebb as the

Reasons dance around and around, and

Once again elude you

Say Goodbye and Embrace the Change: Hello, 2012

Why, hello there, familiar strangers. Yet another chapter has closed as we now ready our pens to write a fresh new page.

2011 was definitely a year of change for all of us. As I sit here trying to think back to all that’s happened, I’m struggling to find the right words to string together to make sense of everything – the good, the sad, the bad, and the downright ridiculous. The images of 2011’s major events blur in a swirly haze in my mind: the passing of influential public figures who contributed to the arts and to technology, the opening of the Ground Zero memorial, the defeat of despotic leaders, the safe return of our troops, the wedding of a royal prince who found his princess, and a woman who’s famous for being famous somehow managed to get married and divorced within 72 days while also raking in at least $18 million. Of course, this doesn’t cover half of the things that happened in the past year, but it serves to depict how oddly scary and yet wonderful our world has become thus far.

Personally, I never actually thought that this year would truly bring change to my life. Sure, I made a list of resolutions for myself – that clichéd list of items that we’re never sure we intend to keep. But resolution lists won’t always help determine your future for you. Change is inevitable, but it’s up to you to decide how much you’re willing to embrace its unpredictable winds. 

Things I that never expected would happen, but did:

• I never expected to break out of my socially awkward shell, but somehow I managed to get over it and find the confidence to talk to new people. Granted, I still have some fears, but I learned to stop letting most of them get the best of me.
• I never expected to gain more insight about my career goals from completing an internship last summer and learn some valuable and translatable job skills, but I’m glad that I did. Hopefully, I'll find a job at a nonprofit organization and help others using my knowledge of psychology.
• I never thought that my family and I would move to a new address, but it’s happened. Despite the slight disruption it caused in my studies and in my social life, I’m slowly getting used to our new place. Plus, it’s warm and cozy.
• I never expected that I would actually take a leadership position in one of the undergrad clubs at my college, but here I am working closely with the other club officers planning exciting new events for the Spring 2012 semester.
• I never expected that I would get a host of new ideas for writing projects, even when I haven’t intensively worked on my novel in months because of college. I never expected that my first rejection letter would sting so much at first, but it’s actually made me more determined than ever to become a more effective writer. Sometimes the most humbling of experiences can motivate you to pursue your goals with more passion.

As for my 2012 resolutions, I’m going to keep it simple: I’m going to try to live each day like it’s my last.

This means that I’m going to try to be a good daughter, a good older sister, and a good friend. I’m going to compile recipes in a scrapbook with my sisters, and we’re going to learn how to cook new recipes. I’m going to view my world from different angles, and I’m going to create art out of it, even if I have rudimentary photography skills. I’m going to listen to new and upcoming music artists. I’m going to branch out and read philosophies I’ve never read before, even if doing so sometimes makes me want to throw the book against the wall. I’m going to explore the science fiction and fantasy genres more, and I’m going to do more historical research to further develop my characters and get that novel completed. I’m going to walk around my beloved New York City and I’m going to rediscover its hidden treasures amid both the glitz and the grit. I’m going to travel. I’m going to write poetry, and goddamnit, I’m going to sing my heart out.

I’m going to take all the lessons I’ve learned from my mistakes and with these, I’m going to close my eyes and take a deep breath. I’m going to open my eyes, my heart, and my mind. I will start anew.

Though the Mayan calendar ends in the year 2012 and people fret about the implications, I’m actually not too worried about it. The advent of 2012 is not the harbinger marking the end of the world, nor is it simply the end of another epoch. It's a new beginning. Every beginning has its uncertainties, but it's this very ambiguity that also gives rise to hope.

With the arrival of 2012, we raise our proverbial hats to the prospect of a prosperous, healthy, and joyous year. We look forward to the promise of a better future and compose lists of resolutions – that clichéd list of items that we’re not sure we intend to keep. We often criticize others for breaking their promises. Yet I wonder… Can we truly keep our own promises to ourselves?

I'll close this post with a song by Joy Williams.

Have a happy and healthy start to a new year, dear friends. 

This is your genesis. ;)