Goodnight.

When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother
What will I be?
Will I be pretty? Will I be rich?
Here's what she said to me:

Que sera, sera.
Whatever will be, will be.
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera, sera.
What will be, will be.

You are My Sunshine

Do you really know how extraordinary you are?
That there are so few you like you.
Brave and loyal.
Patient and strong.
Do you realize that you are exquisite?
That you are an image of grace.
I am calmed by your soft smile.
Your laugh that rings true.
So many things you are -
But most importantly you are a heart.
One that beats for all things good.
Love, friendship, beauty, truth.
The world is kinder for you being in it.
And I bless the day I met you -
And every moment ever since.

What a Difference a Year Makes

One year ago today I was packing my things, kissing my Spanish host mom goodbye and leaving the sunny beaches of Cádiz, Spain. I boarded the bus for Madrid and watched the town that had become the center of my life slip away.

The experience still doesn't feel real. It seems like a long dream that I just can't quite shake. I was somewhat asleep during the entire experience. Maybe I slipped into my sub conscience because of the language barrier. I'm not quite sure. But I find it sad that I was strangely mentally absent during one of the most colorful, vibrant chapters of my life.

I almost didn't come back. Oh how I sat in that airport with heavy limbs. In my last week in Madrid I had woken up. I was suddenly overwhelmed by possibility. Now that I was alone, not surrounded by my fellow American peers that disliked me, I suddenly realized that even though they rejected me, I did like myself. I realized that I was adventurous and funny and open-minded and that I should never have kept their negativity from seeing it. And as I stared out the window on the way to the Madrid airport the sky looked so crisp. The air was fresh and warm. And suddenly everything fell into sharp focus. The opportunity I hadn't seized, the opportunity in the air around me. The possibility to do something different and to change myself.

I wish I would have had the courage to say no to the pleas of my parents who were begging me to come home. They adamantly discouraged my decision three days before I came home to spend the summer in Madrid. I desperately wanted to stay. I had made interesting and kind friends at the hostel I was staying in. I wanted to practice my Spanish. I wanted to live in a big European city. I wanted to relax and soak up the culture. I needed more time.

So I turned my back on the dream I had woken up from. I boarded the plane. My shoulders have never felt so heavy. Everything inside of me was telling me to stay. Telling me to just not get on that plane. Spend my savings. Be financially irresponsible. Perfect my Spanish. Have an adventure.

But the flight home was easy and uncomplicated. I returned to my half asleep state. And I returned to my comfortable, predictable life. Working hard and saving money for my future all the while betraying the present.

But now who is to say. What could have been and what would have been. Maybe it worked out for the best. You really never know.

And a month after returning I stumbled into a man that changed my life. Eyes meeting on the dance floor of a tacky club. A drink bought for me by him. Faces close to hear each other over the bass. Innocent conversation. Flirtatious eyes. A phone call two days later and over dinners, concerts, and walks... two strangers fell in love. It's a love that has brought me great joy and fun. Support and laughter. He saw the places I was hurt and was patient and unassuming. It's a love that I welcome and am excited for the possibilities it may bring.

And I may never have met this outstanding man if I had changed my mind and walked out of the Madrid airport. And maybe, if this love fails and hurts me, I will have wish that I had.

But in the end it only makes a person crazy to think about what might have been. I carry with me many happy memories. Carnaval. A midnight walk through Rome. Dinner outside Pechuga's country house. Coffee in the hills of a white Spanish village. Playing darts with some new friends in a neighboring city. Fishing.

I am happy to look back on those times. And tonight I am very at peace.

Wading and Wanting

I think I'm drowning in my desires.

To be independent. To be loved and certain. To be sure and safe. To know what is coming next.

I want to make plans. I want to be excited about them. I want to wake up with a sense of purpose.

I shouldn't complain. I shouldn't ask for more.

I have a family that loves me. More material goods than any one person needs. I have friends, a boyfriend...

So why am do I feel like I am drowning in all of these wants?

I try to keep things in perspective. I wake up and remind myself to be cheerful. To just keep going. Do things. Try. Stimulate myself. Read. Music. Movies. Writing. But even why I try to fill myself with things. I feel empty.

So I tell myself to push through it. It will get better. This is just a phase.

But my last years of high school were a phase.

And college was a phase with a calendar countdown marking my departure.

On the Other Side

Waiting.
I wanted it all to be over.
It just took too long, you know?
All those papers.
Late nights.
Hours in class.
Impossible goals.
Packing my suitcase.
And now for the very last time.
I wanted it to all be over.
Because things
Things always looked so
Much better on the other side.
On the other side there was this life.
That wanted me to claim it.
There was this person, more than this.
But it really isn't so much better
On the other side.
Once again to be naive.
And floundering.
Still young.
Not to be taken seriously.
When will life be mine.
Mine to claim with authority.
When can I know things.
When will this life be mine?
And will it really look better
Over there.
On the other side.

There was once a girl that lived in a shiny shiny house. Down by the water and up in the mountains. She could be found roosting on a rock in the backyard. Swingingly lazily from a tire swing. Laying in the itchy grass and watching the clouds. The days filled themselves and never asked her for anything. Day melted smoothly into afternoon and the sun set slowly, minute by minute, as she skipped hop skotch and polished the spokes of her bicycle until they brightly beamed. She pressed her face up against the window, scribbled a face in the fog, and watched her big black dog pace up and down his outdoor cage. Her house glowed.

One day she played in the rain. Huge sheets of it fell and pounded on her tiny shoulder blades. She squealed as her skinny braids dripped water and she threw back her head and laughed, seeing how many rain drops she could catch in her mouth.

She caught a cold and learned not to play in the rain.

It would be years before she saw rain like that again.

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon at her boyfriend's parent's house. The parents were gone and the day had been spent engrossed in scrabble, an afternoon feature presentation, and the daily crossword. The thunder rolled and the rain began to fall. Eyes wide she bolted for the door, laughing giddily as she ran outside, feeling the rain pounding against her head, soaking her hair and hands, rolling down her cheeks and into her t-shirt.

She smiled and looked back towards the front door but her boyfriend was not amused. "You're getting all wet. What are you doing? We have to leave soon."

And she learned for the second time not to play in the rain.

A few years later sitting outside on a covered porch outside a student bar in Germany the rain began to fall. She glanced sideways over her shoulder and watched the rain drops fall under a street lamp. A boy next to her grabbed her arm and dragged her to her feet. A hoard of students ran to the center of the courtyard and laughed jumping up and down. The ran to a small inflatable pool and stripped off their clothes and jumped, in roaring in laughter and wrestling in the water. And then they were dancing and spinning and soaking wet and for a minute time slowed down to let them be children.

And she learned to always play in the rain.

And then today happened

Suddenly pieces fall into place.

You pick up where you left off.

And it's right.

Where else can you begin?

Wrapped up in a memory the body knows so much more than the mind.

Lift the invisible pressure and see a smile.

Nobody is holding down your hands but yourself.

And the air has never been sweeter.

The water is just right.

You know what to do.

Shake the images that dance in front of your eyes.

See something old like it is brand new.

Hold on to something long enough to hear it sing.

It wants you to listen.

Let it be scary.

Let it change you.

You're learning to fly.

And falling can be beautiful too.