John Mayer

"I'd die if I saw you,
           and I'd die if I didn't see you there

So I don't think I'm gonna go to LA anymore."

                                 "In Your Atmosphere"

I'm slowly but surely developing a special love for Mr. Mayer. He's got this beautiful voice that allows, no, forces you to feel exactly what he's singing about. And that, in whatever form it comes, is pure talent.

"On behalf of every man

        looking out for every girl

you are the God and the weight of her world."

                                  "Daughters"

Everything Changes

For some odd reason, I've decided to, come this Fall semester, throw myself back into the world of Freshman after spending a wonderful summer basking in the oh-so-exotic world that is Off-Campus Housing.

It's really beautiful. Full of crazy adventures and endless noises. Full of experiences like this:

Of drawing on fruit and blowing bubbles off the balcony--eating breakfast at the pool and forgetting to wear shoes everywhere. Walking a million miles to do a load of laundry, never sleeping, studying, or having a moment alone. It's beautiful :)

So then why am I giving this up? Why would I inflict this unpleasant change on myself?

The answer is very, very simple:

Because it's right. Because this is a change that God wanted for me.

So along with this Resident's Assistant business, there comes homework. Yes, a job that I get to do homework for! All I can say is that I hope my little freshman girls appreciate what I do for them. And that I know they really won't.

This homework assignment was about communication and change. You see, up until you leave your home and live on your own for the very first time, you really know nothing about change (with a few exceptions). You really can't understand what it is to have your life flip upside down and inside out and 180 degrees around in four different directions.

It's quite disconcerting, and it's a little hard to deal with at first. I remember being a brand-new freshman (yeah, yeah, it wasn't that long ago, I get it) and wondering how in the heck I was gonna deal with the change in my life. My job as an RA is going to be to take what I wish someone had told me and be sure to tell my girls those things.

The thing that I wish I had known (and not just known in the same way that I know that grass is green and sometimes brown--the kind of knowing where it touches every part of your life and changes the way that you live) is that change is always around us. It's always happening. Sometimes it's disgusting and frightening, sometimes deliciously exciting.  But it always is.

It always is.

We can't change that, unfortunately. But what we can change is our attitude towards change--our desire for change. The beliefs we hold about change.

(Seriously--most of what I'm saying is coming from this talk right here! It was part of the chapter I had to read before doing my homework, and I'm not actually sure that there exist better ways to say the things that she's said in her talk.)

Wendy Watson says "I have come to believe that therapeutic change occurs as the
belief that is at the heart of the matter is identified, challenged, or solidified." And I believe she is 100% right. She gives countless examples too, just in case you're not believing her claim. She argues that the most erroneous belief is the one that says that there is only one correct belief and that it is the one you support.

One of the most important qualities to possess in this world is an open mind, and a willingness to accept the fact that others may never see things the way you do. You can't make everyone see the world the way that you do, and even if you try, you're going to fail. I'm sorry. It just is.

So what can you do?

Just accept them. Agree to disagree. Love without needing 100% compatability and agreement. It's never going to happen.

If we do this, then the ability to change our lives in ways that will be incredibly beneficial to us develops.

This is something that I've had to learn--knowledge that's come even as I'm bracing both hands against the doorframe in the way that a four year old refuses to be taken into his room for punishment. I'm learning that I need to be able to change the way that I think of myself, the way that I treat myself, the way that I think, even, in order to be able to make the changes in my life necessary for happiness.

I've had to become brave at times when it was harder than I've ever imagined anything being in my entire life.  I've had to let things go that have defined me for far too much of my life--very comfortable things. I've had to look at people I honestly will never understand and love them anyway, work with them, swallow their ideas and dealings.

But those things couldn't happen without my willingness to allow them to happen. Without me understanding that I couldn't move onto better ways of living without shedding old beliefs and putting new ones on.

So think with me for a moment:

What kind of life could you be living if you allowed yourself to change your thoughts? What sorts of splendid things could you be accomplishing if only you would move past those things that are holding you back? And what kinds of changes could you be allowing if you would only open yourself up to seeing new things?

These are things I have to ask myself every day. I'm learning. I'm not perfect. I just am.

After all, in order to become a butterfly, "you must want to fly so badly that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar."

[side note: how is it possible to have 22 page views on a single post without any comments? The point of the internet is to be able to share ideas and learn from each other. I can't do that if I'm sitting in a fishbowl watching people look at me. Please--talk to me!]

It's not

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot,
Nothing is going to get better,
it's not."

Ted is a young boy who, in order to impress a girl who lives on his street, sets out to find a real live tree to plant in his city made entirely of plastic. In doing so, he finds a story, a tragedy, even larger than he thought even possible--the story of the destruction of an entire race of trees and the integrity of a man.

But's not just that the trees need to be saved. There are many, many things that need to be saved. Many, many things that need to be stood up for. Many, many things that need to be heard.

Many issues that a single person needs to be willing to stand up for.

Many wars that could be won if only one would be willing to get up and utter a declaration.

Sometimes it takes a loud voice--someone to speak out to large numbers of people, to thrash their way through the jungle of discriminating opinions and unrelenting prejudice.

Sometimes it only takes a whisper--someone to dip their toes into the ice-cold lake while everyone else stands on the dock watching with eyes wide.

But regardless of what it takes, wars cannot be won without someone to fight them.

See, the thing is, the trait that I most wish that I possessed is courage. Courage to do things like stand up and fight a war despite the ever-raging storm of opposition, or raise my voice against an injustice.

My gift, as I'm learning, is my openness. My genuinity. My ability to live the way I am and not pretend that I am anyone else, that I believe in anything else.
 The oppositions that we face are very clearly laid out in the open, and I believe that the strengths that I have been given were specifically designed to fight these things.

This has been a commonly recurring thing in my life lately. Like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff watching a battle down below, fully suited up and unable to find a way down into the fray.

All I can do is stand and wait and watch. And hope.

Lorax: "Which way does a tree fall?"
Once-ler: "Ummm...down?"
Lorax: "A tree falls the way it leans. Be careful which way you lean."

And be careful which way I lean. Because if I care a whole awful lot and lean the wrong way, just as the Once-ler did, I'm still going to end up sad, tired, and alone.

Full of regret, and wishing that I had done something different--something little along the way.

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot,
Nothing is going to get better,
It's not."

And even if someone like you cares a whole awful lot,
unless you stand up and lean the right way,
things still won't get better.
They won't.

But I find myself all-too-often standing at the edge of the cliff, at the back of a crowd, at the corner of the room, wishing I could say something--forever standing on tiptoes trying to be a little bigger, trying to be a little braver.

So here I am:

Does anyone have any suggestions? How do I get bigger, braver, more involved?

How have other people managed it?

Does anyone else feel this same way or am I just psychotic (I very clearly understand that it's a possibility)?

An Old Favorite

"The trouble with love is
               that it comes to an end.


I've got a feeling
               I'm gonna find you again--


just in a place where
               Love can't die."

 ---NeedtoBreathe