the blues / heart

Six years ago I began a quiet tradition. Six December 31's I've listened to 'The Blues'. It's an old Switchfoot song- you can look it up if you'd like. Its verses and choruses are comprised of a lengthy string of questions, which I think is why I keep returning to its comfort. 

I find myself at the begending (a word I probably invented to denote the clashing of old and new) again, weighed down with questions too. I fear today, the first of January, has become subject for the scoffers. 'Just another day full of empty promises to be better.' That's what the cynics might say, at least. Part of me says that too, but I stuff it down in rejection and instead try to make a big deal of expectant hope. We all want that, don't we?

I started choosing a word instead of a resolution three years ago, in a time and place I look back on with fondness. My friends do it too. Well, some of them. I like the purpose and the simplicity. I know I'll fall short of my word's intentions, but each year I'm propelled to press forward anyway.

For now I'll refrain from reflecting too much on 2016 because my mind's made a mess of it. What I do know is there were bright spots and good days amidst difficulty. It was thrilling curiosity and purposeful solitude, fervent prayer and looming confusion. It still is, partially.

Looking ahead, here's what I know: there are watchers and there are doers. I am the former and I, more than anything, do not want to be. 

So my word for 2017 is heart: courage; the vital part or essence. To me, it sends Hope, always welcomed and needed. To have heart, I think too, is to be a doer. Passion not acted on is maybe not passion at all, and I more than anything want passion.

Heart was sparked by a verse, an excerpt, and some songs (I might share later). It is more than half of "take heart", words resting in my favorite piece of scripture: 13 I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. 14 Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord. (Psalm 27)

And this Thoreau quote from my twelfth grade English class; it has been rattling around in my pocket since we had to memorize it: "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately..I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life."

That's all it is, really. Purpose and passion in our days. Heart.

And everyone has one, a heart. Everyone. It's the Great Equalizer, reminding gently that we all want love. Love is a term sometimes tossed around carelessly, and it's this great abstract solvent to our problems according to most notable people. But love is not concrete and it's not graspable or formulaic. It's perplexing, but I want to be a part of it and to give it away, whatever that looks like. I think it starts with doing. And fighting for the worst parking spot (cc: Bob Goff). 

And so the song ends, 'is there any honest song to sing besides these blues?' I don't know, Jon. I keep hearing that 'everything is going to be alright', both said and sung. I trust it will be.

Here's to more heart. Welcome, 2017!

WWLT: January White & Silhouettes - Sleeping at Last //  27 - Passenger // Somebody to Anybody - Margaret Glaspy

the foyer

This is TREES III, the final piece of the series! Before you begin, know these are not the words I expected to write. In my mind, I'd fast-tracked to a compelling tale about what college has been like for me: seven semesters and three summers. I worked on it for weeks, but I'm still so close, too close, to understand it all. Maybe that story will come later; for now, here's what I have, written today.

It's been three and a half years in a college town. To use a seemingly unlikely metaphor, Clemson's been a foyer. Fairly small yet good for beginnings, entertaining for a short while. Doors on all four walls, pathways to possibility. In my mind, the foyer's got a tree burgeoning in the center and the tree is me. 

The Foyer was grand for a small sprout, unexplored and thrilling. 'Til the end, it has been nurturing and kind. Inside, I've learned to stay soft, to be bold. I've learned the world is big and emotions are ok. I've learned what kind of company I like to keep, and that life is brimming with purpose. Each of them deserve their own essay, someday.

Ok, back to the Foyer. A time came when I thought I'd outgrown it. I no longer fit. My branches pressed against thick walls, twined 'round doorknobs. Leaves littered the hardwood. I wanted more than what was inside.

Not fitting was a half-truth in ways I'm not sure how to articulate yet. Growth was happening and growing pains are good. And there's something to be said for sticking around. Time kept its pace as doors opened and branches shot through, allowing for roaming and remaining to coexist. A God-breathed phenomenon, I'm sure. 

Now, at the risk of being cliche, it is time to uproot. Ring turned, I am ready. I've flourished I hope, Wisely & Slow. 

...and so the last leaf falls. I watch the descent with a wide grin, for the Foyer let a good thing grow.

WWLT: Wisely & Slow - The Staves // The Current State of Things - Noah Gundersen

---

Answers to FAQ (aka what's next for me):

I just finished college with a Communications degree. I'll be staying in Clemson through the spring, leading Young Life and working a part-time job of some sort, soaking up time with friends. Hopefully I'll have some opportunities to travel, but my biggest goals are to make/save money, and to learn to play drums.

I feel the closing of a chapter without its finality. I don't have to say goodbyes yet, but I've been introspective all the same, preparing for all the "lasts" in the coming months. Next, I hope to return to Nashville and find a job I love. Stay tuned!

---

L: 1/4/14, Christmas break freshman year. I spent a few days in/around Columbus, NC with five friends; it changed the trajectory of my life. While I don't see most of them on a regular basis, I'm always glad our paths crossed.

LC: 9/11/14, I've spent many days in this tree out at Chattooga Belle Farm. This day I took my friend Bailey to see the magic of the treehouse. Lots of memories w/ people I love are here; so is my illegible left-handed signature.

RC: 10/26/14, from Max Patch Mtn. Brianna, Abby and I spent a perfect autumn day there. When I think of it I hear Beyond the Blue by Josh Garrels. 

R: 1/22/16: Last year, it snowed late on a Friday night. It'd been a rough week; after some convincing, I joined my friends outside and marveled at the white winter trees, taking photos as we ran around campus.

a talk with the trees

trees II: a poem. As of late, I make my way to class alone, lost in whatever song's in my ears laid over my fast-firing thoughts. On October 26th, I stared up at the trees as I passed Martin, Kinard, Daniel. I noticed they didn't move. I thought it odd; I know trees stay planted, roots in the earth, but it's like I realized it for the first time. So I followed my mind's unlikely trail, asking the trees questions in my head. 

“today’s a day I wish the trees could talk
silent and tall, my questions unanswered.

no running, speaking, feeling.
do you wish for a different purpose?

”stay, grow, wait. trust.” he says.
do you long to wander?

your leaves for my breath.
do you wish he loved you that way?

green, bright, barren, back again.
do you ever tire of the tired cycle?

what’s on your mind?
do you have one?

i love you.
i wonder if he lets you love.

——————

warm, lively, bright.
i am none of the three.

why?
you didn’t make me to be.
why?
i don’t know.

it tastes bitter, who i’m not.
who am i?,
i ask the trees.

who i really want is you,
to answer my childlike why’s.

you let them echo.
you care too much.
i don’t know how i know but i do.

——————

it takes time.
we’re alike, you see.
for you trees and me,
it takes time.
”

WWLT:
Change - Rivvrs
Seasons - Hollow Wood

L: 10/23/16, a Sunday in Cashiers. Katie and I hiked Whiteside Mtn and stared at the fiery colors on peak weekend.

C: 1/23/16, winter dusk in Daniel Square. I was probably walking back from my car when I snapped this. The trees are so tall. I remembered there's blue sky between branches.

R: 3/4/16, Friday afternoon in the Botanical Gardens. Syd, Meg and I went to shoot film on a *dreamy secret path*. The pines accentuate our human smallness, in a good way.