I'm surprised I remember my password.

There's this world that I'm running to. A world of love- self-love. 

I'm on this journey to let my soul rest there. I must get there. I can see it in my head, all the beauty, but my heart feels nothing. The hope located in my heart has run off to the other side of the Pacific ocean. 

                          H  o  w  e  v  e  r

I will get there. I will one day live in a place where I am so in love with myself I give love to others so much more genuinely than once before. It will be real. I will empower others, but first I must empower myself. I will get there. I will live there. And I will get there before I die and enter Heaven's gates. Because I am on earth now and I'm incapable of waiting around for death. And by me getting there is forcing Heaven and earth to kiss. 

Balancing the scale, balancing the well.

I don't want to be another product of self-hate. There's already too many.

Today analyzed my hate.
Because it was spreading rapidly in my cells by the minute.

I find what I think is the cure. Forgiveness and balance.

I told my feet I was sorry for wishing they looked more feminine.
I told my thighs I was sorry for always wishing they were incapable of touching.
I told my hips I was sorry for wishing they were half the size they are.
I told my stomach I was sorry for wishing it was flatter.
I told my arms I was sorry for wishing they were toner.
I told my collar bone I was sorry for wishing it was more apparent.
I told my top lip I was sorry for wishing it was a lot bigger.
I told my skin I was sorry for wishing it was darker.
I told my hair I was sorry for wishing it was lighter.
I told my cheek bones I was sorry for wishing they was more obvious.
I told the bags under my eyes I was sorry for wishing they were dead.
I told my eyes I was sorry for wishing they were lighter.


I don't want to hate. I want to love. I don't want to waste my time, energy, and thoughts on how I wish I looked or feel like I need to look. It's an exhausting journey, and I want to be done travelling on it. This road leads to nowhere.
I want to focus on things that I love and things that inspire me. I don't want to be going through phases where all I care about is how I don't look or do look. I want to be done with this game of comparison because in my head I will never win. When I try so hard to be healthy physically  (dieting), my thoughts become deadly.
I want to be healthy in all areas of my life. I am now seeking out the way to achieve this balance.

It comes like a wave.
My whole body sinking.
It crushes my head like the undertow of the sea, in the form of a kind reminder.
It is reminding me I need to be on the open road.
Young
a
n
d free.










For strangers are my friends.
The road is my home.
The forest is my garden.
The rain is my much needed shower.
The ocean my 35,800 ft deep pool.
The mountains are my cozy new furniture.
The clouds are the pictures hanging in my freshly painted living room.
The rivers are my leaking sinks that will never get fixed.
The wind is my a/c (and I'm constantly changing the thermostat).
The grass is my rug that will always be sufficient. The valleys my quiet place.


Why would I build a building with walls and a roof blocking out of the vastness of the world dancing, moving, and breathing?

I do not know the power of vulnerability.

I do not know the power of vulnerability.
And I think it is a very importance lesson for me to learn.

Lately I have been feeling, "Emotionally disconnected" Which is a pretty way of saying emotionally unstable. I didn't know why until just about twenty minutes ago. I was talking in my car with a dear old friend and then my soul began to speak, my lips just danced in the right way which produced words. It was as if there was a novel living inside my chest and it just ran out of my mouth. No, it wasn't a novel it was a tree. This tree has really deep roots. These roots stretch across my body from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.

It all started about a week ago. I was talking with someone about the fear that comes to my mind when I think about being in a relationship. Which lead to her kindly asking, "Well, how are you with friendships?" And then a million blank loose leaf sheets of paper flooded my mind. I first acted like I knew the answer, and then eventually said, "I don't know.." This question haunted me. I felt like it was one that should be matched with an answer. But it didn't. It remained clueless.

Then I started thinking about my friendships with people. There are my sisters. Janna and Jes know me. I never realized how much it means to me to have someone truly know me and love me to the degree that they do. When we all lived together, I instantly knew who I was more by sitting in a room with one of them in silence, than talking hours about my opinions on theology with someone I met in college a year ago. Of course, this is natural I grew up with them. Then I started thinking about my friendship with Anne. Our relationship is full of depth, I've learned the beauty that the Lord brings to us through deep rooted friendships like her. However, if I had met Anne a year ago, I'm sure all I would know about her is her major, how her day was, and that she is lactose. Once, again she knows me but it came with years of being around me. I want to learn how to be open with people in my life that are present.
I want to learn how to rip open my skin, and say:
this is who I am.
That is where my secrets are
that is where I feel insecure
that is where I shiver in shame
this is where my tears flow from
this is why I feel angry when people say that
this why I hide
this is the memory I keep out
this is why commitment scares me
This is why I feel guilty
that is exactly why I'm always on the go
This is why it's hard for me.

I came home a lot last semester. I chose to disconnect myself with several people blaming it on the fact that I was taking a 400 level class. I came home for the sake of being reminded of who I am. But, I need to learn who I am again. I need to learn how I am without Janna and Jes speaking those beautiful truthful identity statements over me constantly.


I'm learning that I don't know how to go deep with friends.
I'm learning that I'm really good at asking questions and shifting the vulnerability microphone away from me.
I'm learning that I've always been envious of people who can be open with newer friends
I'm learning that I feel guilty/nervous with certain conversations revolve around me.
I'm learning how powerful it is to be vulnerable with people.

I will learn this lesson that my heart longs to learn.

My heart goes as deep as the core of the earth,
My soul has deep roots.
One day you will see it.

Food for deep thought

...Why am I still obsessed with Mary-Kate&Ashley?

I am home now.

Earlier this week, I had a good visit with a dear friend. This passage was inspired by her. Here's to you, my curly headed friend.

My scars are deep.
My scars are sensitive.
My hope is deep.
My hope is not sensitive.
My regrets run through my veins.


However, my failures are full of beauty.
They reveal the power of the one who saved my sunless soul.

So I decided something.
I decided to trade my scars & regrets for something great.
All I did was change the way I viewed them.
No longer were they hidden shameful things left in the closet.

They became a map.

They showed the world where I used to live and how
I swam the seven seas, and
walked through many dry deserts, and
ran through cluttered countries to get to my new home now.

I am new.

I was a fish swimming in a sea of self.

The world became mine, and not yours.
Your precious children became ugly to me.
Every thought became a hundred mirrors of myself.
My love became limited, for it was only used on me.
I cared only for myself.
My cares got thrown in a non-recycle bin, because I forgot how to use them properly.
My eyelids would fuse together, causing me to never see the 6,840,507,000 people in the world.





... So I decided to kill myself.
And everyday the suicidal procedure would occur.

I would shut the door.
I would turn up the A/C.
I would close the blinds.
I would dim the lights.
I would curse.
Then I would pray.

T
h
e
n

I would painfully cut out the darkness that engulfed the life in my heart.
I would use a scalpel and roughly slice away at calloused corners.

As I felt my last breath leave my dry cracked lips, a new one would come that wasn't mine.
The transition was as smooth as the rhythm of an ocean.
It belonged to Him, and He relentlessly let me borrow.
This air in my chest was clear and crisp.
Once I walked away from my front door, I would remind myself that because of my death, others shall live today.

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