6 Summer Goals and a bit of awesomeness

Now that summer is here, I have a decently challenging to-do list:

1) laugh at people more (see #2) [will explain in more detail at a later time]
2) Read Anne of Green Gables
3) read C. S. Lewis' The Four Loves
4) finish reading The Iliad of Homer, The Aeneid, The Divine Comedy, and Anna Karenina (bonus: Augustine's Confessions)
5) plan a book club
6) finish writing (or editing) at least one novel

I'd like to give a shoutout to the gal over at Heavenly Aspirations, since she also wrote about her summer plans and I think they are kinda inspiring. :)  [UPDATE: Sarah over at A Free Mind also told us about her summer plans :) ]

I don't know about you but Pirates of the Caribbean always motivates me.

And then there's young Sungha Jung's version, which is also really awesome:

(Also, Enya Radio on Pandora is usually really great to listen to for inspiring and motivating music that won't distract you!)

The following is from a new idea I have.  Please let me know what you think!  I've had a lot of trouble writing for some time now, but I'm determined to break bad habits and put the passion back into my talent.  If you have something encouraging to say, it would do a lot for my confidence.  If you have critiques, I'll accept that, too, because I want to figure out where my problems are.

Here goes.  I think I might call this book Welcome to the Wood, but I'm not sure.

"Welcome to the wood," she said.

†

Hearing a voice melodiously mingled with the murmuring of the leaves in the wind, merely a whisper at first, he stepped off the road and forged into the wood.  The singing, a woman's voice, was deeply enchanting; the tune haunting.  He pursued it deep into the wood, marking his way as he went and noting landmarks, such as a great oak growing on a rock in a clearing as wide around as its branches.  But the voice was not in the direction of the clearing.  He veered away from it in the brush and weaved on.

At last he found her, harshly rubbing a cloth against itself in the deep brook.  Her black hair rested on her shoulders and tickled the ground as her slender body crouched there.  Her sleeves were rolled up to her ivory-white, sculpted elbows; her strong arms, fine wrists worked back and forth in the water.  She couldn't be more than 25 years old.  And at last he distinguished the words she sang: 

If the water is too cold…

Go right in and catch a toad…

But if the water, the water is too hot…

Throw him… throw him in, throw him in a boiling pot…. 

She stopped when he had come near and looked at him: long, hollow cheeks and nose; closely trimmed beard; clear, round eyes; long hair; young; sword nearly concealed by his cloak.  "Welcome to the wood," she said.  "It's a lovely day, isn't it?" 

"It is, madam," he said.  "May I ask why you've come so far into the wood to wash a cloth?" 

"I live in the wood," she said, wringing out her cloth.  "What have you come for?" 

"I heard your voice while taking a morning stroll, as I like to do.  It's an odd song.  I've never heard it before."

"The words are not original to the melody," she said, her eyes locking with his unabashedly.  "The melody, ages old, belongs to a song about a lost loved one.  It was taught to me many years ago."

His imagination was captivated by her elegant beauty.  "Would you care to walk with me?"

"I must take this back to the house," she said.

"I'd be honored to walk with you," he pressed.

Smiling, "I think perhaps not this time.  But if you walk in the wood often, I will see you again.  Fare thee well."

As she noiselessly moved through the brush, he moved to follow her.  But she was out of sight and he, an honorable man, would not track her like a stag.  Rather, after a few minutes, he found the road again and continued his walk, musing.  The leaves of the mountain laurel resembled the color of her pinafore.  The soft brown of a bracket mushrom was similar to her mysteriously wise eyes.

But slowly, a bitterness settled in his face; and turning, he retraced the road back into town and to his room at Greeneback Tavern.

I'm sorry to have been neglectful for so long – Thank you very much for coming back and reading :)
~Meggy

(Also, if you'd like, check out my other blog for a recent update (and writing experiment): Our Hearts Unhindered)

Elder Days of Yesteryear – But Not Now

Please forgive me for not updating this blog EVER.  I'm very busy now.  I work for my school newspaper as web editor (The Troubadour), I am a technician's aid in the virtual conference lab, and I'm an eLearning Assistant aid, so when I'm not producing media for other people, I'm studying for my five classes ranging between 200 level and 400 level.

It's a lot, but it's not too difficult to keep up.

Anyway, as I've said before, my new blog has long been up and running and I'm committed to getting something out every two weeks.  If you're not interested in the nice little reflections and daily craziness that I used to share on this blog, you might enjoy Our Hearts Unhindered….  But if you don't really need another Matt Walsh type blog (only not as professional or snarky), then Our Hearts Unhindered may not be for you.  The only way I can recommend it is to say that it comes from me.  And it is my personal thoughts and experiences.  Only one of my friends knows about it because the topics and the non-specific experiences I relate could embarrass my acquaintances –

So if you do read it, please, please, if you want to, comment on the quality and material.  I do a lot of writing and I'm fairly good at it, but nearly all of my writing never comes under scrutiny.  My writing may not improve much unless someone points out that it sounds very dull indeed, or that it doesn't flow logically.  And my beliefs and my understanding of the world will not grow if no one challenges me.  I mean, if you're inclined to do that sort of stuff… please do.

I generally have a "no comment" policy, meaning that I will not reply directly to comments.  This is because it hinders the conversation, I find.  It also is not super professional.  So if you'd like to discuss something with me directly, there is a contact form; but please also leave a comment so others can see and contribute.

But y'all don't want to hear about my blog!

My sister had spinal fusion surgery yesterday because of her scoliosis and so I drove home yesterday afternoon into the night to visit her today.  It's really nice to be back in my own room, and I had forgotten how quiet it gets at night in the country.  People sleep and stuff.

The surgery went as expected and she's recovering well, but she's very tired.  She had to keep rolling over from side to side all night long so she didn't get much sleep, and getting out of bed is, I hear, I bit exhausting.  But I'm going in to see her today and I'm really excited.  She's my baby.

There's this song that I can't decided whether I like or not – so I'm thinking probably not really.  Anyway, a fraternity at some school somewhere made their own video to it and it's actually really impressive (…to me anyway).  So, as if in tribute to the elder days of yesteryear, I'll leave this here:

~Meggy

Goes Away

My third week of school is over and one big thing I've learned is that nothing just goes away.  Wounds don't disappear, habits don't die, and trouble never leaves you.

I've a pretty good handle on my anxiety, but this isn't always the case.  There are times when I'm really struggling to be chill.  And there are times when I'm on top of assignments and there are times when I get back to my dorm at night with tons to do.  Sometimes I overreact or act out, and sometimes I'm too quiet.

When I found out that an ex-friend of mine got himself a girlfriend, it messed me up for a few days.  I had a debilitating physiological response when I saw him.  My palms went cold and clammy; I was shaking; I couldn't breathe fast enough to keep up with the rate of my heartbeat.  The anxiety was mind-numbing.

Twice, I saw him and the intense anxiety attack followed.  But the second time, I was prepared for it.  I calmed myself down, he didn't even see me, and the world moved on.

The problem is that I can't figure him out.  Most of the time, he ignores me; and then he'll do something like come up behind me and tickle me behind the ear.  Most of the time, I ignore him because I don't know which version of him woke up that day.  Thing is, there have been times when I know he knows I'm there – our eyes lock, I catch him glancing at me – but he doesn't try to get my attention or say hi or even smile.  Can't get so much as a "SUP."

For a while, I excused him.  I figured, we're awkward, he's conflicted over me, he's got other friends, we're not that close….  But that's a bunch of bushwinkle.

Here's a text conversation I recently had with another guy friend of mine:

Where have you been all day??  I wanted to wish you a happy birthday lol

Dorm lol

Well, then, happy birthday

Lol thanx :)

That was all.  So now I need to explain why this conversation worried me.

At the end of this chat, I had this subtle alarm going off in the back of my mind.  I was being a nuisance, insisting that I ought to have seen him around.  I was clingy, manipulative, domineering.  I was pathetic, screwing up another relationship like this.  He can do whatever he wants, and if he doesn't want to spend his birthday with me, then who am I to demand otherwise?  I'm going to lose him.  Again.  I was going to lose someone that I care about.  Again.

My ex-friend taught me to feel like this.

I won't say that I was having an anxiety attack over this brief conversation with my guy friend, but I felt like I had to back off and leave him alone for a while; let him approach me; let him know that I was indifferent, that I wasn't trying to make him do things for me.

When I saw him the next day, everything was fine and dandy.  He was happy to see me, even apologetic for being so elusive.  He gave me a hug – which are rarer these days because he has a girlfriend now – and I wished him a happy birthday.  And as we went on with our separate daily tasks, he wished me a good one.

And everything was fine.

He can't possibly know how much that stood out to me.  When I saw him in the crowd, coming down the hall, I was prepared for a mere half-smile and he would go on by.  But that is not him, and I should have known that.  He has always baffled me with the way that he insisted on being interested in me, no matter how many long awkward moments we had.  For some reason, I was never good at talking to him.  We've had many long pauses, lots of hangout sessions where we just stare at our computers and say hardly a word.  But he kept asking to hang out with me.  Even now, he is deeply devoted to his girlfriend but he still likes hanging out with me.  He's really nice, and we're not very close – but we're good.

But he made me realize, once again, that what happened with that ex-friend was not my fault.  I was naive, innocent, inexperienced… sure.  But I still am.  And lots of people still like me, get along with me, seek me out, wave at me across the room even if we've only hung out one-on-one a few times – even after my most awkward moments.  The disaster that happened between my ex-friend and me was not my fault, as I had come to believe.  After all, I was struggling with depression and had an anxiety attack when he pushed me away – but he pushed me away.

I've discovered that it's actually easier to say it was my fault than to admit that he was wrong.  Because if it was my fault, then it was not his, and he didn't hurt me.  But if it's his fault, then my heart rips open again and bleeds hard.  So I've been struggling with that with what feels like a week but has only been the past couple of days.  I'm okay, but he really did hurt me; and now every time I see him, I wonder, "Who is he?"

I don't acknowledge him, for the most part.  I've wrestled with that decision but I think it's the best one. I think most would agree, with the exception of a few people that might say that I should encourage him to think I want to be friends.  The problem with the latter philosophy is that I spent the end of last semester thinking like that and it was painful; and furthermore, it didn't work.  He was just as good at "not seeing" me when I said hi as when I didn't.  And this way, even when I look right at him, I am at least being consistent, which is my main complaint against him.  I show him that I don't want to play that game anymore.  He has no control over me; I couldn't (in practice) care less about him.  If he wants me, he has to come get me.  I'm not chasing after him anymore.  It's all on him.

Not acknowledging him also encourages me to let him go and to stop trying to make him like me.  That was my main problem last semester.  I thought that if I went out of my way to say hi, like most friends would, that he would want to be friends.  Friendship would just come naturally if I presumed it.  But he didn't read the script, apparently.  My attempts only left me feeling frustrated, rejected, and obsessed.

Crazy, as he put it.

But I've decided not to try to contact him and talk to him about it.  If we talk about it, a decision has to be reached.  I would have to say, "Either be friendly or leave me alone."  Once that decision is made, he will either stick to it or he won't, but howsoever that may be, it would be sticking a tombstone in our relationship and minimizing the room for growth.  Perhaps he will grow and mature and we could some day be friends; but not if I tell him he needs to leave me alone.  And ultimately, I'd like us to find healing one day.

So I've learned that nothing just goes away.  But that can be a good thing, too.  And the bad reminds me to cherish the good, which is oh so precious to me.

I'm genuinely bewildered by much of the good in my life, so it's awesome and amazing.  It's hard to let it do what it has to do.

~Meggy

P.S.  Did you make it all the way to the end?

The Trick

I am so incredibly addicted to this song right now.  Every time it comes to a close, I lament that it is so short!

The other trick is that I packed all my stuff for college into so such a compact little collection of green boxes and various shoulder bags.  Plus this year I'm bringing a rug and a fridge!  I can't wait!  We're leaving really early tomorrow morning, and I'll get there mid-afternoon.  There are so many people I can't wait to see.  I'm not really looking forward to classes as much as I would have thought… but I'm sure I'll be excited once I get started.

So I've heard of Sick Puppies but never listened to them until now.  I'm not sure what's up with them – what's going on behind their lyrics and in their lives – but all I know is I love their most recent album, with the exception of a few songs perhaps….  But anyway, oh my gosh, I listen to it so much on Spotify.

Also liking The Script's "Hall of Fame."

And so far, I'm not tired of this song yet:

And this song will always make me smile:

I'm gonna miss being in my home town for the beautiful autumn season… but it's not too shabby out in Ohio either.  And what's more, I'll be sharing it with my best friends.

But first, I'm going to Confession and Mass this afternoon.

I don't know if my selection of songs demonstrates this,

but I find that Sick Puppies has a certain amount

of variety in their style.

~Meggy

Never Forever

Loneliness has been gripping my soul.  With less than a week before my return trip to college, my longing for my friends has increased thirtyfold.  I can't wait to see their faces and hear their voices.  I can't wait to actually do all the things we've promised to do.

My friends may never understand even an inkling of how much they mean to me.  As a life-long loner, it's amazing to have people texting me  – even Skyping me! – over the summer.  Seventh through twelfth grade, I could have been the poster child for the people who say homeschoolers aren't properly socialized.  And in my whole life, I've had maybe five or six friends – in recollection – and only one at a time.  The fact that I have so many different people interested in befriending me at one time is amazing.

If only I could express these feelings.  Those that want to hear it, wouldn't understand their depth.  Those that would take it, would try to sympathize or would be embarrassed and uncomfortable.  Some would not like being so serious long enough to hear.

But perhaps there are other ways to express my feelings.  Perhaps words are not the best way.  I think, maybe, these feelings that want to explode are meant to stay that way.  By chance, maybe the barely bridled gratitude and affection inside me would feel tainted, deflated once let out in minced, jumbled phrases.  More likely, such feelings were meant to build – further constructed with every hug and good word, better fortified with every trial, magnified until unfading, preserved even after long separation in our happy thoughts and cherished memories.  Never to be described.

I fear the day when I have to go away.  These four years will truly be the time of my life.  It could well be that I may find friends after college and find a cute little community for myself in a small town somewhere….  But never will I live in a community so close and available… never will it be so beautiful and open… never will it be a large Catholic community, all talking about anything that comes to mind without reserve or awkwardness….  I will truly miss all these dear characters in my life.  For never have I been so anxious to be with people who scared me so much.

I'm only going into my second year of college; I know I'm a bit premature; but if there's one thing I thrive on, it's deliberating on notions long before their time.

And I truly will miss the people who are helping me get so far.  Without them, I would never have known my fears as I do now – I would never have grown so much.  I would never have embraced such terror with so much anticipation.

It is my fervent prayer that I will find someone among them who will not want to move on without me.  We can go away from there together, and support each other in the separation.   I can let my love for him grow to insurmountable heights, and I never need explain anything; for I'll live my unfading feelings – forever.

~Meggy

I Don't Know How To Be Something You Miss

I'm not going to discuss all my opinions on Taylor Swift – good and bad – but I have always been enchanted by this song:

At first, I didn't really like the sound of this one as much, but I came to like the beautiful combination of voices:

~Meggy

As He is Pure

Still my "I'm too awesome" song

Snakebite on chastity:

The first principle is always: Dim the Lights!  Keep his mind darkened.  Those stupid vermin will dance like fleas around issues of sexual morality, complexifying the simplest questions and rationalizing their answers with incredible dexterity – all because we keep their mind off the first and simplest truth: that the Enemy has written the world's simplest sex manual for them, with only two commands in it.  First, "be fruitful and multiply".  Sex is His invention.  Second, "thou shalt not commit adultery".  No sex outside marriage, before or after.  In it, the more, the merrier.

…

When he thinks of his own desires, due to the work of our agents, he, like most Americans, confuses his "needs" with his "wants" and thus is convinced that his great sexual wants equal great sexual needs.  Of course this is nonsense; he has water needs but not sex needs.  He'd die without water, but not without sex.  But he doesn't want to notice that fact.

Anberlin

"I wanna be your last first kiss"

1 John 3:2-3

Beloved, we are God's children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed.  We do know that when it is revealed, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.  Everyone who has this hope based on him makes himself pure, as he is pure.

Annie Lennox

 beautiful lyrics in this song

"What do you see on the horizon?"
"The ships have come to carry you home."

Emiliana Torrini

"We can never go home."

Adam Lambert

very sad and moving lyrics

"No one wants to dig that deep."
"A red river of screams – underneath – tears in my eyes – underneath – stars in my black and blue sky – underneath – under my skin – underneath – the depths of my sin – Look at me – Now do you see?"

Freeing Yourself From Anxiety: The Four-Step Plan to Overcome Worry and Create the Life You Want – by Tamar E. Chansky, PhD

Choose the voice of your internal [emotional] GPS.  It could be someone you know, like a trusted friend or adviser, or someone you don't know, like a celebrity or character from a film or novel.  Picture in your mind that person calmly or comically letting you know that you can "turn around as soon as possible," reminding you that it's okay to get back on your track and not get detoured farther by that emotional wrong turn.  Write it on a sign to stick over your workstation or desk.  The more you remember that turning around is an option, and a good one, the sooner you'll take advantage of it.

~Meggy

Anxious in Arizona

Before I start, I should mention that I'm not from Arizona….

The more I listen to this song, the more I get it.

But I've decided I have a problem.

Anxiety.

Serious, uncontrollable, irrational anxiety.

If you go back to March of this year, the results of my anxiety drench the stuff I wrote during that month.  There was this boy, and he seemed nice.  I didn't have any interest in him beyond that, but it seemed pretty obvious that he was interested in me.  For the first time in my life, I began to wonder… how would I feel about dating?

But very early on, he made me feel as though my own troubles were insignificant compared to his.  I was so innocent and good compared to him.  And after some time of that (which seems fairly normal with boys), I began to feel even worse.  I'm terribly shy, and he was so not.  I've since begun to believe that his loud behavior may stem from his own inner embarrassment and need for attention.  But I can't be sure….  Because I freaked.

It wasn't long before I began to feel as though I wouldn't be good enough for him.  I began to think that I needed to be just as he was in order to keep him from moving on.  I was so scared that he would get bored with me.  So I pushed myself.  I didn't trust him, but I acted like I did.  I did things that normally would have been uncomfortable for me because I thought it was the kind of thing he wanted.  I rationalized that these things required a give-and-take.  He was constantly on my mind as I tried to figure out what to do to please him and I did a lot of crying and dwelling in depression.

Now to be fair to myself, the case he made for himself wasn't good.  He gave me plenty of reason to doubt.  But if I had just been cool, we both might have been able to come out of it unscathed and perfectly okay.

What kills me is I was that girl.  I was that girl that he probably talked about to other people, even other girls, saying how clingy I was, and begging for advice.  And that's what kills me.  I was a b****.  And I hope for your sake that's the only time I use that word on my blog, but unfortunately, it's true.

What opened my mind to all this?

A day without a single text message.

All summer long, I've been texting this friend of mine nearly every day.  We've always been pretty good friends, and I've always felt amazingly comfortable with him (especially considering he's a guy).  We just get along swimmingly.

But a few days ago, he didn't text me.

I was in the basement, going through my boxes and re-packing for college.  I had my computer open and I was watching "The Sarah Jane Adventures" on YouTube, accompanied by my little sister.  I was busy doing things, so I didn't think to text him and it didn't both me too much that he hadn't texted me.

But the next day, I was sure to text him as soon as I got out of my dentist appointment.  It was after two in the afternoon, which is right around when we usually start texting, so I texted him.

Our conversation that day was very sparse.  We each sent only about five or six messages that afternoon.  That's very unusual.  But there's nothing wrong with that, right?

By this time, everything inside me was screaming out in a panic.  My reason was telling me – indeed, I was telling me to chill out.  There is nothing wrong just because we aren't feeling very talkative for a couple of days.  There is even evidence that we'll recover!  This was not the first time such things had happened and yet everything was still perfectly fine between us (although I freaked out every single time).  What's more, our relationship is soooo healthy and natural.  It is devoid of flirting or games or pity parties, but even so, we're pretty comfortable talking about what's bothering us.

But that little bit of me that made sense wasn't convincing the rest of me.  The rest of me was divided between searching for excuses for him and bracing myself to let him go.  I thought, "What if he never texts me again?  We had such a promising semester ahead of us.  So many plans to watch movies and study for our class together.  What of those plans now?"  I spent too much time fighting off depression as helplessness and hopelessness and loneliness swept over me.  I began envisioning a future for myself on this trajectory, after I've lost all my friends, living alone on a farm, fighting off depression all by my self for the rest of my life, unable to make or keep friends.  I am not making any of this up.  And all because of two days.

Don't get me wrong.  It's not because I saw a "future" for "us."  …I have no idea what's in store.  I was freaking out because I was losing a friend, like all my close friends before him.

Well, the day after that, he texted me and things went on as usual!

My meltdown, hidden from all those around me (but unfortunately not from me), was not because I truly believed it would happen.  It was a response that has apparently been programmed into me and is unavoidable.  Nothing I did or told myself convinced me that everything was fine.  I was cool and calm on the outside, but a raving lunatic on the inside.  In March, this feeling drove me to badger the other guy with texts and ask him if everything was okay.

Who doesn't see this as a problem, raise your hand.

And I believe that my depression ultimately stems from this anxiety.  It makes so much more sense now!  I have had numerous theories about my moodiness – all plausible, just needing more observation of my behavior to better understand – but they all left some questions unanswered.  This is the one answer that makes the most sense.  I am fundamentally fearful that I will find myself alone when all is said and done.

And I've always known of my loneliness and admitted my great obsession to please.  My awareness of my anxiety has slowly been growing over the past few months until this last great leap.

There have been times when I've contemplated seeing someone about my depression, but I've never quite made up my mind.  I seemed to be gaining some control over my depression so I figured maybe it would be pointless to go to a professional.  But my depression was just a symptom of something much deeper.

So now I have to consider seeing someone about anxiety.

Now that I pinpointed it, I might be able to make progress on my own.  This is not a decision I'm going to make lightly.  First of all, like I said, I'm cool and calm on the outside.  Very few people even notice when I'm going through these things, which is usually because I get depressed and subtly draw away from people.  The one time I discussed depression with my mother, she was extremely skeptical.  But according to my best friend, I was a mess in March, even though she didn't understand why.  And secondly, I would feel a lot better if I could conquer this on my own.  I've seen what labels and counseling do to some people – it's kind of like, even though they're "working on it," they're at peace with it.  Upon hearing that it's something they can't help and that they'll have to correct it over time, they kind of settle into it.  But I don't want to be at peace with it; I want to wage intense, violent war on it.

But I'm not ruling out professional help.  I'm going to do some research and reflection.  No hasty decisions here.  Once I get other people involved, there's no backing out.

And the friend that I've been texting this summer, reads me really well.  He kind of picked up on my anxiety troubles without me saying it right out, so I know I can talk to him about it.  And there are a few other friends at school that I really trust and I know would be open to talking about this.

Do you have any thoughts?  Do you think this is as serious that it may warrant professional help?  Or do you think I'm over-thinking things again?

~Meggy

The Way [Part 2]

"There is no objective truth."  I mean, everything taught in school is just taught so that you can later reject it.  Whenever you ask a question, the answer is simply the answer that your mentor likes to believe.  If "there is no objective moral truth," that explains why the jails are empty and the globe is one big family, each individual holding nothing against the other.

Okay, so obviously, there is objective truth.  There is objective moral truth.  And that means that there is only one way to live.  Stealing is either right or wrong.  Killing is either right or it's wrong.  Bullying is either harmless or it's bad.  Abuse is either helpful or it's very, very hurtful.

So there is one way of life.  I won't tell you what is it here; that's not my drive.

My drive is at the concept of having one way to live, but having many types.  For example, there are the "Mother Theresa"s, and there are the the "Dorothy Day"s, and there are the "Little Flower"s and the type of person that lives just down the street, volunteering at soup kitchens and donating to charity.  There is missionary work to be done – but it can be as abnormal and far-flung as going to a third world country, or as routine and ordinary as giving to those in need in your own community.

That understood, is there only one type of person?  Is each objective-truth-possessing individual a carbon copy of each other?  No, obviously, so should they be?

Well, I think of it this way.  "Bob" is a straightforward person with a gentle voice and tender compassion.  Working with those who have been hurt might be right up his alley.  "Kent" is an active person with endless energy and extra batteries in his mouth motor.  He likes to say it as it is and preach, preach, preach.  Sometimes the truth blinds him to the tenderness a soft soul might need for healing.  He's probably more suited for conferences and mission trip talks, and so on.

And likewise, my friends who like to be everywhere at once and share everything that comes into their heads in the name of "testimony" are entitled to so.  Some people need friends like that – friends that are open and that challenge you to go to new distances.  But if you are, like me, a quieter soul that likes to hold back a little, there's nothing wrong with that either.  Some are intimidated by people who tell too much.

So, one way.  Many types.

If people could just learn that, I think we'd all be understood a little better.

The Way [Part 1]

~Meggy

The Way [Part 1]

There's something I've noticed about circles in society and it baffles me and drives me crazy.  There seems to be a tendency for a circle to pick out a few people to be the benefit of their direction.  I feel like it's probably those people in the circle that aren't quite the same as the rest of the circle.  It's the mother who isn't as strict with her children when they're fresh with her; it's the mother who is never more than a cry away while everyone else thinks that some separation is healthy.

For me, I feel like I'm either the girl who isn't loose enough, or who's too innocent, or who's too prissy. This bothers me, because when I'm in a group of friends who are essentially all that as well – I can see our similarity, but I don't click with them and I find myself getting bored.  I enjoy their company, but not all the time.  I'm a little bit more on the wild side, I guess, and yet I don't enjoy certain jokes, I haven't watched horror movies and don't follow pop culture, and I don't open up well.

So far as that covers, there is absolutely nothing wrong with me.  Except for the problems that I have with depression and anxiety and the fact that I'm shy, I have lines that I don't feel like crossing.

These lines aren't like lines between holiness and mortal sin; it's way, way simpler than that.  And yet not, in a way.  I don't find jokes about sex and boy parts (or girl parts) to be in the least funny, and I'm baffled by those who do find it funny.  I don't look at pictures of men with their shirts off (some do it and compare it to something like looking at pictures of girls in gorgeous dresses) and I don't care what Britney Spears is doing or what new trivia is out on Brad Pitt.  I'm not saying that having a casual interest in your favorite performers is bad, but I really don't need to hear about the latest scandal about someone I already didn't look up to.  And I can't argue dead against it, because some people do need to know (for various reasons) – but I don't.  I don't need to know and I don't care to know.  It's not important to me in the least.

I feel that I should speak my mind about the crude jokes, but that's not really the point.

The point is that I'm sometimes labeled as a kind of opportunity for charity.  I either need to be dragged to social events, shown certain movies, told about certain things, or exposed to certain phrases and worldly perspectives.

…I'm a simple girl.  I grew up in a small town in New England.  This is a poor town and the school system (middle school and high school) is regionalized – and it's our kids that are the "hillbillies" (from what I know).  We have a Unitarian church and a Congregational church in the center of town, Sunday preaching on the town common, and Sanctuary Worship in the gym of our public elementary school (the last two are recent additions, but that's the kind of town I live in).  We have two gas stations – one in the middle of town and one on the outskirts near the "city" next to us.  We have a town market, and that's where you go if you want to know what's going on in town – just look at the flyer-plastered windows.  We have quite a bit of farmland and lots of farmhouses.  But we also have areas of new development.

That's the town I live in.  I grew up simple, under parents that aren't much interested in the craziness of the pop culture – or indeed, in the craziness of much of the outside world.

So be gentle, I beg you.

I'm interested in seeing some of the movies that I've missed out on, and I'm interested in getting to do things I've never done before, and I'm interested in doing the things that I've never had opportunity to do before.  But please.  Just because I'm different doesn't mean I need your guidance.

I don't need you to say, again, that I need to push myself.  You don't need to be so obviously amused at my expense when I'm not familiar with something.  My nervousness and insecurity isn't your cue to affirm me.

Which is another thing – affirmation doesn't work.  When people go out of their way to say, straight out and blunt, something really nice, it feels like flattery, not sincerity.  It sounds like a statement carefully injected in order to artificially build up my self-esteem.  It's not working.

If people could just learn that one way of life does not trump others, I think a lot more progress could be made.

The Way [Part 2]

~Meggy

Doctor Who Tag, III

Click HERE to visit the original tag at Climbing the Alpine Path.

DAY THREE

Favorite Theme Songs

I think my favorite show theme song, out of the ones I'm familiar with, is this one:

I also like:

And, well, I really like a lot of music in the 5th season.

This one is haunting.  I love it.

~Meggy

Who can say?

Click HERE for music that I posted last year, appropriate for this great day.  For more season appropriate music, click on the other entries I posted that week.

As I'm contemplating this miraculous Truth, I'm filled with the overwhelming realization that I have no way of describing how incredible and yet how beautiful this Divine Mercy is.  But I can offer my testimony in place of a fitting tribute.

For I am so incredibly grateful.  My soul has been prepared for this day in a way I could never have expected and did not understand.  Oh how often I've been in a funk that I could not shake.  Stuck and struggling, bogged down with mud and bruised with blows – I look up at God and wonder why I can find no peace in His will.  Reexamining everything I've ever done, repeating sins in Confession, praying triply hard, relishing moments of silence and contemplation, never resting or working without begging His blessing, trying to live life as though Satan was not gripping my ankles – I did everything I could to find God.  Easter came and I was seeing the light – but my ears were filled with fluid and I felt exhausted all over.  My mind was too foggy to give me grief, but my soul was not at rest.  Then, finally, a few days ago, I began to feel lifted in spirit.  I had been struggling with my self image and had been feeling unwanted and generally disliked.  However much God loves me, I will always question myself when I do not feel affection from His creation – which makes sense!  If people shun me, perhaps I'm doing something wrong and I should reexamine myself.  But I could find nothing.  And finally, I felt wanted.  I feel wanted.  In spite of everything I've done and everything I've ever thought or felt, I am wanted.  I don't understand, and I'm afraid.  But on this day, Divine Mercy Sunday, I'm reminded that no matter how dirty you get, you can still take a bath.  It might be quite a chore to get from the mud puddle up to the tub (or the pool of Siloam?), so it might take time but it can happen.  And, as when a stubborn child doesn't want to get in the tub, sometimes it takes a while before God can lift us into the water.  But that doesn't mean we're beyond hope.

We're never beyond hope if we trust in Jesus.

~Meggy

I can't feel you anymore – you have gone so far away....

What to write when you have nothing much on your mind?

I miss him.

And I miss him.

And it's odd to feel that I've come home to my dorm room.

I wish I had been wiser growing up.  I wish I hadn't wasted so many years in misery.  I wish I could think of a period of my life that I'm proud of.

I wish Lent wasn't almost over.  I was not as successful as I ought to have been.  But there's still time left for progress – all is not yet lost.

I keep zoning out today.  Not "in the zone."  Way out of it.  It's awkward.  I'm having trouble keeping regular conversation.

I've learned that – guess what? – I'm not shy.  Well, I am.  I'm shy about my looks.  I'm shy around people that, for whatever reason, intimidate me.  But I'm not afraid to talk to people.  I love talking to people – need to talk to people.

I'm so incredibly stupid.  God is so good.

Society looks at the evil in the world; I look at the evil inside.  Society wonders why a good God would let bad things happen; I wonder why He doesn't let them happen more often.

–– Why does God love me?  What have I ever done?  Nothing.  He loves me because He created me; He created me because He loves me.  He loved me first, second, and lastly.  The sin did not come before the love.  The Love is eternal - the sin is not.

Sin is an emptiness.  Sin is a nothingness.  Sin is empty.  Sin is nothing.  Sin is a lack of something – sin is a lack of God.  May there not always be a lack of God in my heart.

And with that, I've gotten very philosophical.  I must be more tired than I think.

I have homework I ought to be working on.

I'm working on a habit of complimenting myself whenever I start to put myself down.  So – I'm stupid? Well, yes, but God made you with an incredibly beautiful soul.  Look around!  You are surrounded by people who love you.  You are surrounded by people who want you.  Don't close in on yourself, silly goose!  God loves you still, even just now, and it's His Love that will improve you.

It's a good day today for blankets, soothing music, and homework.  ("Homework?" "Yes, homework.  It's very satisfying when it's done.")

I could really use a hug and some chill time.  :(  Why are my best huggers so far away (physically and metaphorically)?

Download this free music and listen to the words... so good.

http://noisetrade.com/joshgarrels/love-war-the-sea-in-between

~Meggy

Valentine's Day

A Thousand Years

I'm Gonna Be

Why Don't We Just Dance

Everybody

Right Now

Right now:

• I'm listening to "Don't You Wanna Stay," which is a song I really don't like.  So now I'm listening to "Wide Open Spaces."

• I'm studying Latin:

Parva et brevis sum.

I have no idea if that's right.  But whatever.

Parva sed fortis sum.

????????

I'm mixing adjectives and nouns here, hello?  Not sure if I'm allowed to do that....

• I'm not studying Latin. Obviously.
• I'm missing someone.
• I'm lonely.
• I'm bored.
• I'm now listening to "All Your Life"

Yes, I'm listening to a country station.

• I wish I was hanging with friends but I very much can't right now.
• I've yet to go to Mass.  I hate going to Mass in the afternoon – but that's what you get for sleeping in.
• I've got spring fever, and I can't wait to go home for the summer and dig up my garden again.  The pumpkins are going to be successful this year, no questions asked.  And so is everything else.  Last season, I failed miserably at a lot of it.  But it was fun anyway!
• I'm very, very hungry, and I'm missing my momma's cooking.  I'm missing my cooking.
• I'm glad to be here, but I'm missing Boston and the fresh air in my home town – the pines, the sugar houses, and the wood fires.

Have a great Sunday, guys.  Ash Wednesday is only a few days away!

~Meggy

Singing in the Rain

~Meggy