Major Minus

Sometimes— sometimes it just hits you. You might be fine one moment before, unaware of it as you are of blinking. Then you'll stop, look up and realize how sad you are. That was this week for me. I was blinking without thinking and then sitting down, wondering how I could survive so far from home. I'm homesick and want my parents and I miss my siblings and why does Redding have to be so far? Why does it rain so much, and why is the mall so tiny and how come one of you is in Hawai'i and the other back home? I stopped and thought about a lot of things I missed. Family, friends, home, Southern California, being there during the holiday seasons. I even thought about my life before college, in high school and in middle school. I miss that, too. I miss sitting next to Junelle and Keniki in the flute section of concert band, I miss fourth period tennis and how, even though I hated Truesdale's English class, it was my favorite because of the people in it. I miss lunch and winterguard and the feeling that the whole, entire world is in front of you, waiting.

It came like an unexpected strike into my gut, knocking me down. Then everything just comes at you because all you want to do is go back to bed and not be sad anymore. But then there is class and things to do, so you just can't stay in bed all morning. You have to get back on the bicycle and realize your life is more than waiting for it to begin and that, yes, you're far from home, but in years to come you'll regret it if you don't cherish it. But then it's hard to stand up because all you want to do is lay against the floor and wait for something to come pick you up. Welcome to my week. It isn't that anything extraordinary is being asked of me, events that ask something beyond my capacity, it's just... well. It's... just a little like I'm being on one of those spinning tilt-a-whirls. I feel car sick, so I close my eyes. Only, I didn't realize how hard it would be to open them again. I've become used to numbing the feeling of the gravity and the spin and the power.

The tilt-a-whirl hasn't slowed down at all, but I feel like I'm beginning to wake up. That my eyes are opening a little with each revolution. I don't want to be stagnant, or still or quiet. As Mufasa would say, You are more than what you have become. So, good morning world. Let's be friends, or, at least, can we be frenemies? I'm going to need some help and some guidance and some energy, but I guess this is a Jesus thing. Not really a world thing.

On today's bright note: Florence + the Machine's newest album Ceremonials is brilliant. Just brilliant. Almost finished listening through.

Toodle Pip.