On Sunday morning, we awoke to reports of a suspected act of terror in Edmonton.
On Monday morning, we awoke to news of the mass shootings in Vegas.

I’m not getting into that. But I am getting into hope.
Things can be better, different.

hope storm

During a storm, hope gives us the ability to look at things as they are and still be confident that something better is coming.
Joyce Meyer 

Thanks, Thanksgiving, today is really Metaphorical Monday. So I’m not really late. Actually I am.

Whatever.

My friend Mike started this thing called Mirror Mantras, where he puts a positive phrase or quote on his bathroom mirror to focus on for the week. Of course, I copied him. Here’s mine for this week.

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“Don’t live down to expectations. Go out there and do something remarkable.”

Plank update [yesterday]: 95 seconds. (Seriously. WHAT!)
Meditation update [yesterday]: I did something except Smiling Mind only gives me ONE meditation history, sooo I cannot tell you what it was. This is why I should update every day. 

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My friend Mike started this thing called Mirror Mantras, where he puts a positive phrase or quote on his bathroom mirror to focus on for the week. I adopted the idea and kept up with it for a good while, but it’s been awhile since I did a mirror mantra.

So in the spirit of overthinking things and mindfulness, perhaps, here’s this week’s. “Understand that not everything is meant to be understood.”

Day 3 Challenge Update:
Plank:
 75 seconds. Movin’ on up.

Meditation: Twice daily achievement = unlocked. I think meditation is one of those things where perhaps the more I do, the more I want to do. 
Last night I did the 7 minute Mindful Listening: Dreamtime music meditation from Smiling Mind. This morning I continued with the Short Mindfulness Practice one. While it won’t fix my annoying lungs, I’m hoping a quick break with the Studying mediation (because work is like studying?) re-energizes me a bit because I shouldn’t be tired at 7:44 pm!

things are looking up, oh finally.
i thought i’d never see the day
when you’d smile at me
we always pull through,
oh when we try.
i’m always wrong but,
you’re never right.

I have said before that I am often more content when I am on the road, away from home, than when I am here, in this nucleus of familiarity.
What happens, though, if the road gets familiar? The road feels like home. The lostness increases yet, is no longer lostness but foundness?

honestly, can you believe,
we crossed the world while it’s asleep?
i’d never trade it in,
‘cause i’ve always wanted this and
it’s not a dream anymore,
it’s worth fighting for.

My life has recently started making a bit more sense. I have work—and more impending work—and travel plans and a slightly straighter direction for my ambition. At least in the next two months with the road/the air in my future. I can no longer linger in my distraction, yet channel that energy into creative pursuits: writing, being, creating. Creating my life.

could have given up so easily
i was a few cheap shots away
from the end of me.
taking for granted most everything
that i would have died for
just yesterday

I feel like I write about the same things all the time—and I think, to an extent, I have been for longer than I have really realized.

we age more slowly when we move quickly versus standing still.

John Green 

Writing on the problem, the frustration, the constraint of stillness—of routine, of not embracing chaos. Lostness is chaos. Movement—or lack-there-of. I’ve reiterated—recently—about lostness. The joy, specifically in the past, of being on the road—or in the air. The chaos of losing much, if not all, routine.

The chaos is beautiful.

Because there is nothing to anticipate when you are lost, beyond becoming found. Lostness is uncharted territory. Unfortunately, it is also not sustainable—or, not self-sustainable. Eventually, you become found in lostness. It’s chaos no longer welcoming. I don’t want to get to that point.

I want to keep moving. Forward. Dynamically. (I suppose static moves as well, just it doesn’t go anywhere. The current does, but the static itself does not.)

I spent the evening watching a season of Roadtrip Nation. One time, my friend Tara said her sister wanted to have the experience of living in a van. Well, an RV is kind of like a giant van [sort of. If you are creative or squint or whatever]. Since that point, I shared that desire. Because that sounds awesome.

[…] we’re just getting started.

looking up, paramore.

There is a certain chaos associated with being on the road. [And, to a different sort of chaotic vibe, in airports. And in the fact that airplanes involve people being in the sky.]

Opportunity is finding its way to me, perhaps. But I feel like I am standing still. I need to find my way to it. And the typical road maps to that aren’t working anymore. So where do I find the atypical ones? Maybe, in that confusion, in that chaos.

And I hope, to a deeper level, I can make that chaos a part of my future plans. In exploring this lostness, explore my world, too. I can dream. Maybe I’m only now realizing the truth of that statement.

I can dream.

And that can
become
something.

and i scratched these words into a black notebook…

last straw, jack’s mannequin

There are so many unexpected ironies included in those lyrics with what was to come—foreshadowing.
i’m one year older now since the last time I saw you in case you wanna know, i’m about to say what i’m up to.
first of all i’m a sluggard, moving slow in a clumsy way
some peace of mind is what i want, but that will be the day.
i’ve been going without fault for so long, and this must end
running round in circles, i’ve been so far from myself
searching for the energy, and the time to make a change
to make a change in my life, instead of watching it pass by
do something now while i’m alive
 
i’m twenty-two, don’t know what i’m supposed to do
or how to be, to get some more out of me
i’m twenty-two, so far away from all my dreams
i’m twenty-two, twenty-two–feeling blue
 
[…]
afraid that i will be weak forever
i can’t stay in this shape any longer
my life’s just another cliche
 
twenty-two, millencolin
As I did of 2013 when 2014 started, I refuse to recap my twenty-second year: It was important, it changed me, but that change did not occur through circumstances I chose. It was important to me—it still is important to me—to share those stories, to be transparent, for a variety of reasons. Among the most important, though, can be summarized concisely in my friend Jay’s words: “We cannot control our circumstances, only our responses to them”.

i’m keeping quiet until the phone stops ringing  lately it’s hard to disconnect, i just want something real i’ll find my words if i can just stop thinking the room is spinning, i have got no choice be patient, i am getting to the point… 

spinning, jack’s mannequin

I grew, I came out on top with a few more scars inside me.
you watched that poor girl waste the best years of her life and i’ll be damned if i am going out i will not go out that way.
last straw, jack’s mannequin.
I’m alive and determined to make this count.

i can’t remember when the earth turned slowly so i just waited with the lights turned out again i lost my place, but i can’t stop this story 

Tomorrow, I turn twenty-three.
i keep forgetting when the earth turned slowly so i just waited till the lights come on again i lost my place but i can’t stop this story i found my way, but until then i’m only spinning 
spinning, jack’s mannequin.