Books and companions

I was reading a book I borrowed from a friend and while reading it, I had the insatiable desire to mark it up. I love writing in books, drawing hearts near parts I love, making notes here and there...and I couldn't do so with this one because I borrowed it. Therefore I made little book marks with notes on them...well it got rather ridiculous when I had about 5 little papers sticking out from the preface...so I decided to look into purchasing it.

What made me decide to purchase this book you might wonder? In this day and age with our economy sinking like crazy and the debt ceiling at a standstill currently, how would anyone contemplate purchasing a book!? It's when the dear author said "who the dickens am I? I am just the same." I just knew I had to get it.

You ever read one of those books where you feel like you've made a dear friend. The author's mind and yours just click and you feel almost odd because relationships don't usually come about that way. It's like a conversation...the book speaks, you listen (by reading), and think and ask questions about it...and through it you feel as if you've made a wonderful connection.

Some of my dearest friends have taken ahold of some incredible opportunities and moved away. It was much harder for me to take that one since we had gotten so close but that's life. There are new and old friends. They speak, you speak, they laugh, you laugh, think through things, hold on to some thoughts and let others go...through it you feel as if you've made a wonderful connection. Time reveals them slowly...some are just for a season and others, for as long as you live. They are dear people to me. My first year out of college was a weird one and it still has glimmers of weirdness but still those people had such a great influence on me.

So now, I have a new school year to dive into, a new book and friend, and new adventures. It feels weird and I can't say I like it yet. I don't have an opinion just yet and I think that is alright and sometimes very necessary. We'll see.

Love,

C

Sincerity

Sometimes people are different than you are. Sometimes, they react in ways you find offensive. Sometimes people are just who they are without any care whether you like it or not. Sometimes more often than not, I'd like to think I'd be less frustrated if people were more like me or something like that.

These are stories that I picked up on:

"A friend came in from out of town and she seemed quieter than usual. In fact, she just kept to herself most of the time we hung out. It was a tad strange and I found it hard to connect with her. It kind of bothered me that she wasn't as talkative as usual. After all, we were both not going to see each other in a long time since she is studying abroad and I am moving back up to school again."

"It was my birthday today and most of the people at work acknowledged this. It was sweet although I'm not much of a birthday kind of girl and wouldn't have been the least bit sad if everyone went about their business on my birthday. One co-worker in particular, not a fan of me, did not even attempt to fake a happy birthday for me...she said nothing. Further on that note, after everyone congratulated me, she still seemed unenthusiastic."

As I listened to these stories I thought to myself, why would these people react that way? Why wouldn't the friend from out of town muster up some sort of enthusiasm to make the last moments before departure something meaningful instead of being so quiet and withdrawn. Why wouldn't the co-worker just force a happy birthday for the girl just for the sake of it being her day to celebrate? Why couldn't they just do something to please another person if they didn't feel like it? It's not asking much is it? A conversation? A celebratory statement?

I will admit, at least they are staying true to what they feel and who they are. Maybe the girl was more withdrawn because she is sad about leaving and that is how she deals with things. Maybe the co-worker didn't want to say happy birthday because she doesn't genuinely have any positive sympathy for her. I give them credit for not faking or pretending. They are who they are and that's how they deal with things.

People are people...some try to please more often than others, exchanging their honest affections for ones that lifts others up and some please less, being honest with how they feel and not disclosing anymore affections than they can offer...is one or the other more honorable? I'm not quite sure. I guess sometimes it'd be nice if we'd just remember, yeah I've been there too, I've done that, I'm not real proud of it and sometimes I'm not quite who I'd like to be either.

Love,

C

Remember

Words from my latest song:

"Dreaming, feelings of returning again and turning again"

It's easy to get bogged down with the rut of life...the same everyday kinds of things, with expectations, envy, doubt and uncertainty.

Recently I've started to get ready for planning another benefit concert soon. This will be the second annual concert and I'm definitely excited. Yet, my face doesn't seem to carry the same excitement as shown in my words. It's doubtful and scared and looks like it's forgotten why I started doing these things in the first place.

So I thought back to my girls at the shelter in Vietnam. I recently heard someone speak about emotional experiences and tied it to religious experiences and I thought to myself...do we just base our religious experiences solely on emotion? Isn't that rather superficial? Nevertheless, I reverted back to my girls...they were the motivation for why I started to fall in love with the concept of a benefit concert. I raised money to support them. I got to do what I love, music and share it with others and include them in a project so dear to me. That's why I love it.

I went back to my photo album with my girls and they made me smile. Each and everyone of them. I fell in love and was inspired that summer and I've made music whole heartedly ever since and when I have those moments where my face seems unconvinced of this musical pursuit of mine, I look back...emotional or not, superficial or not, that experience meant the world to me and will keep meaning the world to me.

It's interesting, I remember one time in my piano lessons with my professor, he could tell I was getting really frustrated with my playing and I could tell he was frustrated with my progress and he told me, I'm not sure what experience it will be for you but I know one happened with me where it made me look at music differently, it pushed me to go above and beyond my approach with performing...and it didn't make any sense to me then...I tried to picture my family and fake an emotional conviction to be the best for them but it just didn't happen and I tried to think of many other things...if I lost a limb and lost my ability to play etc...yet, each day, more and more as I commit to the music, that comment is making more sense to me and how grateful I am because of it, all of it.

Love,

C

Mistakes and burrs

My friend was recounting some stories today. Mainly his most recent one that involved climbing in a ditch to check to see if he put out his cigarette and as a result, finding his shorts, legs and shoes full of burrs. This image provoked the most outrageous laughter in me. It was fantastic. I know it must have been painful for him but still slightly amusing.

He had told me that when he was a kid, he went to the same ditch and fell flat on his stomach in there by taking a certain route to get to the bottom. So naturally now, he had learned his lesson and went a different route but I suppose burrs were unavoidable in any circumstance...they were just everywhere.

As he was telling me this story, my mind couldn't help but think, oh life. Life happens. When we are younger we make mistakes and as we grow up, we take different routes to avoid making the same mistakes and guess what happens, something else happens, the burrs of life. We don't make the same mistakes, new ones are bound to be made. No matter what or where, they will always be there and something else will always happen.

For now,
C