Midnight is about to strike, and here I am with a big bowl of Annie's Mac and Cheese, nostalgia filling my ears as I soak in Winter, by Joshua Shank. Almost every blog I follow, shows an in depth look in a person's life. The vulnerability they type onto this page, the rumination, the free association, I wish I could do it. I wish I could spew my thoughts on here and have everyone read, and understand my inner most being... But you can't. In the end, not many people will read this at all. You will not understand me. But I'm going to try anyways, so here I go.
My dad has always said that I was the one with a plan. I make my plans a reality, and it happens. But as of the moment I threw that stupid blue graduation hat into the air, I lost all direction and view of anything that's going on in my life. College came quickly, and not the college I had always dreamed about as a kid. I drive a few minutes, pay my parking pass, and walk to class where neither I, nor almost anyone else in the class is excited to be there. There have been those few teachers, not professors, that have made a difference, that have left the semester while I hung onto their last words. I enjoyed Frank and his crazy passion for earth science. I like Kathy and her outspoken humor at retirement, while she taught us all about sociology. But I remain here and I feel as though nothing in me is changing.
You meet certain people in life, where their lives have been planned since day one. They do not fail at succeeding in those plans. Or maybe you meet those people whose lives were given direction the moment God showed them that plan for their life. That hasn't happened to me. I make plans, and they don't succeed. Or I'm pushed back, semester by semester. God has not showed me where I belong, whether I'm meant to continue in the direction of dental hygiene, or follow a road down psychology, or something I've never even considered before. There are moments that I feel as though I'm standing at a crossroads, but I'm so lost I can't even move. That's where I am... Stagnant. And honestly, it's because I'm scared. I am so freaking scared I can't handle it sometimes.
In giving advice, most will say "follow what you love, no what will pay you" or some motivational, hopeful, Hallmark sort of piece. Well here's what I love: security. I love knowing that say, as a dental hygienist, I could support myself and support my family. I love knowing that I would not wake up in the middle of the night, not knowing if I could pay my bills, or buy my children the food they need to survive. So there you go for vulnerability. Take it or leave it, this is how I feel.
When I said I felt as though God hasn't given me a firm direction to go one way or another, I did not mean that I'm forcing Him to do anything, but I'm not ignoring him either. I will follow God's direction, right now I'm just not getting any responses. I need no unconditional positive regard from Him. Just give it to me, on a plank, as is.
So there it is, all my fears about the future, for you to consume and take as you will.
I'm as scared as ever, about school, about the fact that I'm home still, after promising myself that I wouldn't. About Brian saying, "You better not be here when I come home, Zandra." I want to make it somewhere, I just have no clue what I'm doing anymore.
All I know, is that I want to love people, I want to follow God, I want to love someone with my whole heart, and be a best friend. I want to feel secure. And infinite. One day.
Winter, by Joshua Shank
I sang this with my choir, 4 years ago. I still know it almost word for word. This makes me feel infinite, just for a moment.
beautiful is the unmeaning
of silently falling
two faces at a dark window
this father and his child are watching snowflakes
while floats the whole perhapsless mystery
mind without soul
may blast some universe to might have been,
and stop ten thousand stars
but not one heartbeat of this child;
nor shall even prevail a million questionings
against the silence of his mother’s smile
—whose only secret all creation sing
time space doom dream
I'll play this one more time, and drift into another night's sleep.