Leaving

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We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting, and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn't it? It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change. To shine out. I want to repeat one word for you.

Leave.

Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word isn't it? So strong, and forceful. The way you have always wanted to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don't worry, everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed.
--Don Miller, Through Painted Deserts

Leaving.

7/20/11

Or should I say LEEving. There it is citizens, the next stop on the Classical Ride. It's two and a half hours from my world, so you know, weekend visits aren't impossible or even impropable. In fact, they will definitely happen often. But this is still leaving. This is still the abandonment of all the noble organizations that are still in my life due to youth. They won't be here waiting for me when I get back, they will be the ownership of others.

That's the one thing I disagree with in the beautiful Don Miller passage above, "everything will still be here when you get back." Even if it is here, it won't be the same. Everything will be changing while I have adventures in the collegiate camp.

Recently I've arrived at the beauty of not knowing in my own life. I have no idea what the future holds for me. Not a pinch of a notion. I am not my own though. I'm the product of an Author. The Author of such bestselling works as Creation, Salvation of Mankind, and Heaven. Needless to say I'm in good hands. But oh how wretched it can sometimes be to have to change everything for the sake of a greater, future good.

Change seems to make everything familiar sad. Like music and movies and books and people and places. They all become something other than your own. And you feel a little betrayed by them and unable to trust them. When you leave you have to give things away and release holds, because you can't truly say what's to happen to you or them. It would be unfair to try and keep everything safe in an aquarium for you to come back to. But it's what we want to do. It's a natural sort of vanity.

One month from yesterday. It's gaining on me.

7/25/11

My life has been a lot of loose ends. Life has never felt like a progression. It's always been a book in my hands. It's no wonder my favourite feeling is the sixth sense of nostalgia and my preferred pasttime is playing out the future in my mind. I'm technically not allowed to read ahead. It's kind of a mystery novel. But I can look in the previous pages for clues. I can read on the back flap about the author (incidentally it's an enormous backflap), I can listen to the reviews written by those I know and love all over the cover. I don't mind that the writer's name is the biggest thing on the book, that's the way it should be. I don't mind that my name is really only a subtitle. Merely a "by the way" after the colon. It helps that the preface is made of promises (incidentally it's an enormous preface). Every sixty pages or so a loose end is tethered, but some knots take a lot longer to tie.

College seems like another loose end. Why am I going to this particular place? What am I to do there? Why am I saying goodbye to things I know will never be again.

But then why would I spurn the pages that will never be read if they are not read now.

7/28/11

I am going away for a while,

but I'll be back, don't try and follow me.

Cause I'll return as soon as possible.

See I'm trying to find my place,

but it might not be here where I feel safe

--Paramore, Misguided Ghosts

I feel very safe here. I've spent a long time building a life here. I have perscribed characters and plans for the next scenes. But those plans aren't applicable any longer. I find myself talking with my friends and making plans for this month or that. Then, oh wait, I'll be in college.

I'm leaving with questions and the appropriate punctuation is in my pupils. But I have to wonder, what makes me think I'll come back home with answers. Maybe, I'll come back with more questions.

Calling this a "step" seems like an understatement. A mean a step lifts up a foot and then plops it down. I'm not so Matrix as to put four years of my life in a single step. It's more like a dive or something of that nature. Like something entirely new that will have to shape me for a while. Like little Lucy stepping through a wardrobe. And I know that you can't step into a wardrobe without stepping into a war worth fighting. New Narnias do, after all, await.

8/4/11

Just because everything's changing, doesn't mean it's never been this way before

All you can do is try and know who your friends are, as you head off to the war

Pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light

You'll come back when it's over

No need to say goodbye

--Regina Spektor, The Call

My story isn't really anything new I don't suppose. They say change is the only constant but I say there is a constant a lot less ironic than that. God the Father is, as Owl City would say, "the only north star I would follow this far."

I do know who my friends are, that's for sure. The truest. They are the strangest group of people, it's enough that they pray for me and it's evident. I don't want to be a cynic anymore. I want to be a hopeless romantic again. Why can't life be a story?

This is the Pilgrim's Progress citizens. It's tearing through every thick slough of despair and every doubting castle towards the celestial city. I'm all about the anthem, it plays in my ear. You know it if you hear it too. It's what we all call, The Call.

Listen.

I can't keep a straight face and say this is not the end

Not if you want it, it's upon us and I wanna say it's sinking in.

So think real slow, don't forget that yes is yes and no is no

Melting prints of grass and snow, means you may forget the way to get back home.

--Relient K, (This is the End)

I've found that things are always dying. I'm not being morbid but beggar this thought: babies die into children, children into young adults which die into adults, which die into the elderly which finally die into spirits. Not always in that order. Habits die into hobbies which die into traditions. Affection dies into love and annoyance dies into hate. Interest dies into passion, theories die into truths. Thoughts die into actions or else they simply die into oblivion. I will die into a lot of new bodies before this dress rehearsal is over with.

So is this the end? I can't look at you with a straight face and say it isn't. Of course it is, but it is also the beginning. Birth rides in on the inhale and death dallies out on the exhale. It's simultaneous.

Tonight I was among friends. Two young people who are like family were outdoors with me under the charcoal skies that were quiet firmamental embers on our scene. I looked at them being silly with their classic faces: one on a bike and one frolicking with a husky pup. I wanted to take a picture, then I wanted to remember, then I wanted to write of it. I just wanted to keep it. I realized things like that can't be pressed in big books like leaves or taped into scrapbooks like photographs. What can we do with such beauties? I don't know the answer to that except that I want to keep them.

8/18/11

Long Live all the mountains we moved

I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you

--Taylor Swift, Long Live

There are so many things we want to live on in our lives. My 18 years in the same place are what I most want to live on. I want every memory and every face and every adventure to live on somehow. I want to reside in the legactic lands of eternity or in the precursors thereof. I still wonder if there isn't a state of mind where Past, Present, and Future aren't sitting around in a pub having a few drinks and sharing a good rapport instead of competing. I love my home and everyone here. My friends and family are what I am most proud of. They are what I most love talking about. It was a gift, being part of their stories. I had the time of my life. We fought dragons, moved mountains, made magic, wrote poems, cheered, fought, explored. We were the kings and queens, we were the heroes and heroines. We crashed through walls. I mean it.

So long live every moment I had with every one of you.

Long live your stories.

Long live your memories.

Long live

Now, I'll say goodbye.

I'll be right back.