Nah, I'm Good.

This morning, as I was on the bus to work, I was looking for tickets for my summer travel. I thought about visiting an old "friend". This friend and I had been in sporadic correspondence in the last ten years. Often, conversations are loaded or empty; there's no in between. Which is unfortunate because this person is brilliant in their own right-- we just can't end a conversation without some kind of emotional twist. Whatever.

Anyway, a quick thought flit through my mind: "I should visit". So engrossed was I in this endeavor that I was really ready to book my bus tickets. However--HOWEVER!--all of a sudden something clicked in mind.

"I'm good right here. Here and now... I am really good."

Perhaps this relationship just ends into nothingness. I'm totally okay with that.


On to other things, I haven't felt as light as I do today, in weeks. And quite possibly, months. Something just lifted yesterday evening. I feel so light.

Thank God for His mercy and grace. I feel so at peace when everything is so unsure.

Proverbs 3:5

The Dreamer - Keeping the indomitable spirit

In Middle School, my best friend once told me that her dad gave insight about her friends. He had mentioned specific characteristics about each one of us, there was five of us that (often) hung out together, but three were tight knit. I often revisit this insight.

He had said, "[J] is a dreamer. She has her head in the clouds, and sometimes she may need someone to keep her grounded." I remember receiving that insight negatively. Was it bad to have my head in the clouds? Was it bad that I'd need someone to bring me back to the ground? In hindsight, it was my insecurities as a tween that shaded this lovely insight negatively.

In reaction to that, I closed my heart up. I focused on being "logical", "linear", "intelligent"--thinking that being a "dreamer" wasn't intelligent! I would only focus my whimsical attributes in art or writing. I grew mean spirited because I thought I'd need to be acerbic and witty. It wasn't my best friend's dad's fault, it was my own--I'd made myself miserable by denying a part of me.

Fast forward to my young adult development: I did away with all that heaviness and darkness. Thank God. It was a process unfurling the negativity; stripping away the heaviness, and being true. I mean, I'm still sarcastic, and of course witty, but that's part of my winsome personality.

More recently, while working at my previous job, I felt all the more convicted to not let anyone else take my joy away. As part of my personal testimony, I must spread the joy and peace inside. I was saved from my own dark soul and mind, and replacing that was Grace from Jesus. 

Tangent: my salvation prayer was simple--"God, take away the darkness in my soul."

Digressing, at work, I loved to talk with people, and one coworker, specifically, enjoyed our talks. We were of like mind, academics stuck in corporate. We would banter; ponder statements, and talk about art and literature. One of the nicest things he said about me was, "...I like you, 'ya know? You've a touch of whimsy. We need that in this place." 

I've learned that this whimsy; that I, as a dreamer, need not keep it bottled up. Yes, it takes more energy to be ernest, honest, and happy. And yes, people can take that transparency as vulnerability--weakness, but it's not. It takes far greater courage to love forthrightly. It takes more courage to keep on dreaming. It takes creativity to learn how to navigate the broken world. 

I like art and literature. I like to listen to sad songs. I like to look at real estate postings for magnificent houses. I like to peruse the internet for First Class tickets to wherever. I like pretty things.

I love broken people. Broken people have such great potential. That's how God sees them, and that's how I choose to see them, too.

Hebrews 4:12

Poetics: Some Point Between Here and There

Some Point Between Here and There 

JG 2.914

I imagined a perfect life with you.

We would live in a loft;
I would prepare breakfast,
and you would gladly make tea.

A prayer for the day ahead,
and a kiss goodbye.
I'd be someone important at work,
and so would you.
We would live comfortably.

Then I realize,
This is my dream.
I realize--I don't even know you.
You say you want to live out of the city.
What?
You say you don't drink caffeine--
Since when?
You prefer hard labor instead of the officework.
Okay.

I am jarred.
I am repentant.

Confused.
Did I take the time to know you?
Were we on the same page?
Did we have the same conversations?
I'm blindsided, and so are you.
What happened?
Really, what happened?

You had another vision--
Another dream all together.
Your personal values,
Your mores,
Your ethics,
beautiful in their own right,
are so different from mine.
I didn't get to know you well enough.
Yet, this isn't disappointing.

We are at a stall.
Actually, there is no 'we'.
There's you.
There's me.
Paths that were once parallel--

never really having converged,

and all the more diverging. 

Thank you for being you.
However, I still like what I see.

Poetics in the mind. There'll be more posted. 

Every Entrance was an Exit Elsewhere

Yesterday (Monday) night was the final class for Drama. I'm sad to realize that next Monday evening I wouldn't be surrounded by really cool, warm, and kind people. It was a lovely journey to be a part of. I told my acting teacher last night, "I learned to access my feelings, commit to them, and follow through." To which he replied, "well that's true of everything we do, right?", indeed it is.

I had a late start this morning, which I'm quite annoyed about--I'll make due. Drinking tea, I thought about my stay here in Boston, the community I've been a part of--Grace Street/Revolution Church, and my previous/present? classmates. These thoughts actually began a few days ago when, in frustration, I started to pack. I took down most of the cards and letters people have sent/given me and tucked them away. Several are still up on the wall, I'll need them to get through the week. A specific card, given by a dear friend, talked about how she'd miss me as I moved up to Boston. That's nearly 2 years ago.

Two years. A chapter of my life will be closing soon. Nothing's going to stop me.

Boston held previous memories. Boston holds graveyards. Boston holds closure.

Once I pass the threshold and shut the door come the end of the month, I'll be back in NY, but it will be an entrance to something else.

We all have 20/20 vision in hindsight; emotional ties

TL;DR: I'm a mess right now. Can't even make sense of stuff.

I spent a good 2 hours getting rid of screen caps, saved pics, and tags on my computer. I have yet to touch my iTunes to clear out (really) old sentimental songs. I figure it will be an endeavor that will last at least half a day. 

I'm cutting emotional ties with people and certain things. I feel like in the last two years I've cut out more and more people. It hurts--no lie, but I think I need to save myself before I can help someone else. This is difficult.

The imperative is to cleanse. I didn't think I had this much junk in my life, and the more I dig, the more I realize "wow, I suck". My hope is that I remember and realize that all I have and am is by God's grace. 

I feel like asking "what now, God?" because I'm literally being stripped of everything. There is so much time I would have used for x, y, z, etc; and now it's open schedule. The hardest thing, actually, is filling that time with something wholesome. 

I feel sorely lacking compared to last year. But I think its cause I let myself get lax in being vigilant that things God cleared out of my life started to creep back, or that I didn't fully give stuff away. 

It may be a whole host of other things.

I'm just rambling now.

The scent of poetry

I had purchased my first Moleskine (lined, large size, reporter's style) in a university store a block down from Columbia University. My best friend and I had just finished taking our first SAT exam when we wandered into the store dazed, confused, and hungry. We were from Queens, why we took the SAT in Columbia was because someone in our group of friends decided to be funny. They wanted to take it in Columbia, therefore everyone was roped into going--there were other places where we could have gone, seriously, but we jumped into the nonsensical bandwagon because we were all scared to take it 'alone'.

Digressing. The notebook, thereafter, became my book for poetry. From its use, I wrote my most 'serious' poems therein a few times a week. From 3 May 2005 to 5 December 2006, I wrote constantly. The last entry before today, that is, was 13 December 2008. The May 3rd poem doesn't have a title, but it was a prayer of sorts. While the December 5th poem is titled "Let Me Go". The poem written 2008 is untitled, but was also a challenge by a teacher. It was an introspection about the "shock that the world goes on after someone passes." 

In all this time, the little book still smells like Marc Jacob's "Blush". I had peppered its pages with the sample of the perfume I had gotten from Macy's. Sadly, the perfume is discontinued, but I'm glad the scent still lingers in my little book. 

Anyway, today's poem is titled "Spaces" because I have been musing upon the things or people who take up my heart. The most natural line of thought is a guy, but I don't really feel for anyone right now. Then there's the religious experience, where the person who occupies my heart is Jesus. 

I'm going to stew on the poem. It's written in my little "psalm" book, along with my the rest of its lot. 

I'm not scared of burning passionately for something anymore. That thought just popped up as I looked at my water bottle. The particles of my very diluted phytonutrient shake are suspended in the water I  refilled. I think its sad for some reason. I don't want to just be suspended... moving particles. Agitation. Excitation? Intensity? Yes. 

I would be really bad--or good?--at word association games.