Craziness . . . disguised by normalcy

So, if things went as they were "supposed" to go I 'd be in Korea right now, starting to settle in. Instead I have another two weeks to wait. Good can come of this, and probably will but there is also the part of me that fears the extended time to contemplate . . . My semi-initial thoughts about Korea (or at least the first time I seriously considered this step as a possiblity) were largely because I wanted to run away from my life - or at least one particular part of my life. That changed, entirely. The need to run became obsolete and other reasons for taking this step arose. Largely - what else am I going to do? What can Riverview offer me at this point in my life? I screwed up - I was unprepared and missed my chance of continuing with what I think or thought I wanted to do and so I had 16 months to kill and after much discussion with various people, much prayer, a few quotes and some semi-self searching I decided I would be less likely to regret staying in Riverview (most likely at -in the words of Graeme Ching- 'a dead end job') than taking this opportunity, expanding my horizons, seizing life. But again, what is life and what determines whether it is seized or not, and how it is seized? Already my 'screw-up' has yielded some results that I'm very thankful for . . . or that at least may be taking me in directions I otherwise would not have pursued.

In memory of my dear fried Melissa (she's alive and kicking by the way - we just are far apart) - Result 1) Second semester found me in a class that encouraged creative writing assignments. I had such an inspiring time writing the first one. It had been months, bordering on years since I'd had any real inspiration or felt like I could write anything creative that wasn't forced crap. Even in Europe where I should have had inspiration coming out the wazoo - nothing. But I wrote this, and I flowed (or at least felt like I was) and the teacher thanked me. That was a crazy encouraging, semi-life direction changing moment. I should have saved what he wrote - though it may be somewhere . . . as a result of this I became more open about letting people see my stuff and have started to develop some confidence that maybe I have not completely lost whatever talent was starting to blosssom in my earlier days. Which connects to Result 2) I had been talking to this other prof. at school about what I should do next year. I was contemplating staying for another year and getting a double major in Eng. and Psych. After much good advice and insight about the type of person I am and in turn what careers could line up with that (and inspiration from a different Prof. (English) who is amazing and made me think 'yes, I could do this for a living') I decided I did want to pursue English. This prof. also found out about my writing and pretty much badgered me until I finally read him some stuff - the result was him asking me to be a co-author/creative editor for a work of his. An extreme compliment and confidence boost. Result 3) Through these things, various talks with Prof. 1 who encouraged me regarding grad schools, and the Northrop Frye festival, I decided I would apply for creative writing programs. And here is where the renewed fear and wondering sets in. There are many decisions to be made regarding grad school applications as any of you who have done it or will be soon know. It's daunting. But enough on that, I get diverted easily.

Life, and seizing it. Somewhere along the road of life people have impressed upon us that adventure, experience, life, is most fully lived through new experiences and that these experiences most often occur when we step away from the life dealt to us and create new paths. True, often true. But not always. And this is something that I've learned and perhaps still need to learn after my experiences of moving to different parts of the country and world around 10 times in the last 4 years (if you count living in a place for more than a month a move). True pretty much all of these experiences have taught me something and created growth, but the times at 'home' in Moncton have not been without their life-changing moments and their blessings. I have made friends here that I belive are more concrete than the friends I've made anywhere else (with the exception of course of a certain amazing young woman who provides me with a consistancy and love that not even most family can compare with - my one and only reenie-san).

Even in these past few months of delays and confusion and uncertainty there has been much . . . fullness. I've had simple experiences that none of my 'worldly' ones have brought me. Like opening myself to love, being more vulnerable than I've ever been. Then being rejected and coming through it with more confidence and surety of myself and worth than I've ever felt. Learning things about myself, my fears, and my faith from God (sometimes through the help of others) that I think He'd been trying to teach me for years, driving at midnight in a convertible with the roof down, doing things the consistently analytical and responsible Charlene would never do, some potentially life-threatening, some potentially heart-threatening . . . Then I think of lazy afternoons turned into adventure. Laughter with people who know me, know the way I think and react to things and yet love me. That's something that none of my travels can bring me in the same way that a place where I've started to make roots can.

Some people say everything happens for a reason. Or that when it looks like things don't work out it's still all a part of God's plan. I don't believe that. In fact there's been a number of times when I've heard that (especially in the past few months) and my reaction has been - that's crap. Sometimes it may be true but sometimes we also just screw up and I think it's irresponsible and somewhat ridiculous to chalk it up as being God's plan. He can work through it though, and still provide us with blessings even when we don't do the right thing. That I believe, and that I've seen. Hmm, a song just came on that reminds me of one of the people that's come into my life from living in this town that I so often flee from. Jack Johnson's 'Upside down.' If weirdness, and badness, and delays, and uncertainties that prolonged delays, and many growth experiences from various people and circumstances and everything else hadn't happened in the past year this person would not have been in my life in the same way. I don't know how long this influence will last . . . but it's been good.

Mother Nature's Song . . . I think I'm one of the lucky ones. I've been blessed with being able to hear it. If I believed in other lives, if the fairy world hadn't faded with age I think maybe I would come back as a birdsong or a nymph or the sunlight glittering on a bubbling brook that only one or two pairs of chosen eyes ever had the pleasure of seeing, and reveling in. The professor who reminded me about who I am told me I have the tendency to set goals and expectations that were too high for myself and that I should be cautious of this. True. But also detrimental to an extent. If we don't reach for the stars how will we ever reach a mountaintop, right? And mountaintops can and have been reached.

I met a girl in Toronto who opened up the me I had always kept hidden. I met a boy in Shelburne who with a bang, closed the door on my childhood forever by allowing me my first real connection with a person in dire pain. I met a guy in PEI who taught me what it means to learn and how people learn and are intelligent differently. I met a guy in Vancouver who showed me a glimpse of what my womanhood would be and revealed that my girlhood was reaching its close. A young woman in Charlbury shifted my worldview and challenged my opinions about the world, slightly changing me forever I believe. A stranger on the train to Oxford who I only spoke with once showed me how to receive someone's openness, be open myself, and then walk away forever - glad for the moment of connection and sad for nothing. A guy in Quebec taught me about the standards and limitations I govern myself with and why I have them. A young man in Moncton forced me to be deeply open, not only with him but with others and challenged me in a way that has changed the way I interact with everyone I know. Another one showed me the sweet and the bitter rolled into one. Another that sometimes it's okay to have no idea what I'm doing or why. A young woman revealed peace and gentle love . . . I could go on, but I won't.

I'll wait and see what this next thing will bring. How will I grow? Through pain or joy? Most likely both. Was it the right choice? I don't know. Will I ever really? I don't know. But it is the one I've made. And now I sound overdramatic. I'll blame it on the hour.

There are things that make me kind of want to change my mind and the fact that they make me want to also makes me want to go even more. A friend said tonight that indecisions keep us questioning and that is a good thing. I guess clarity and understanding can be overrated.

It's odd how appealing it is to just place your thoughts out in cyber world - wondering if anyone will ever care to read them and what they'll think . . . but understandable I suppose. Catharsis that goes beyond a mere journal.
(See what I said about being long winded?)

A recorded moment of normalcy. An adventure practically in my own backyard.