Musing

“Be my muse for a little while longer?

I’ve got a novel to write, and I’m searching you for all the right words.

Because there’s structure that forms in the lines of your hands.

The perfect way to measure out rhythm in the arch of your back.

And language is so important my dear, I’m reading all the classics in between stolen breaths.

So let me hear, taste, and see, the story you’re hiding.

I’ve got pages to fill from cover to cover.”

-m.j.t.-

These Words | 6

“There will be a few times in your life when all your instincts will tell you to to do something, something that defies logic, upsets your plans, and may seem crazy to others. When that happens, you do it. Listen to your instincts, and ignore everything else. Ignore logic, ignore the odds, ignore the complications, and just go for it.”

Judith McNaught

Get Busy Living | In this for the in between

Sometimes I feel like I live my life in extremes. I’m a little too happy. Sometimes a little too sad. I give too much. I never take enough. I am forgetful that sometimes I’ve got to be here for the in between.

Between all the great days, and the days we can hardly make our way out of the house- let alone our bed- we live the normal days. The ones where another pot of coffee has been made- and it’s just right. The ones where we forget that we filled the tank of gas over the weekend, so you make it to work on time without a hitch. Especially the ones where we make it through the end of the day, so spent on flitting from place to place that we forgo the shower, and just hop straight into bed.

It was another day where you lived. You took all the time you had, and just used it all up. It’s another day where small, tiny, commonplace miracles happen.

I say this because, when you stop complaining about all the long days, the over burnt coffee, the empty tanks of gas, missed meetings, and the unwashed sheets. There were days where all these things fell into place, and you took them for granted.

So, live for the extremes. Live for the in between. Live for it all. It’s another day that has come and gone. Spend it all, spend it well.¶

 :

Wasting good days with you,

-This is an open letter, to whoever I will love next-

I hope you’re nothing that I imagined you would be. I hope that you don’t tick off all the boxes that I’ve made sure the next person should have. I hope that it’s not an all or nothing love. I hope that you are living your life, too busy chasing dreams, and making plans. I hope you’re spending all your time.

Let me start by saying, I can be a little rough around the edges. My dreams used to feel like walls that felt like they would consume me, if I dared to dream too wildly. At times, my scars will show. They will be the gloves I put on to defend the nicked and scratched portions of my exterior. I am someone who has been built from a foundation of her choosing. Because I’m constantly being, and constantly growing. I wasn’t always this happy, this silly, this honest, this truthful. I wasn’t always this much- of anything. But slowly, I guided myself to be too much of everything. Because I’d rather paint my life with too much of anything, than nothing at all.

This is where you come in. Because I want to share my world with you. I want to waste great days laying around in the grass- sober from the sunburn, but drunk on your favorite memories. I want to fill you in, and be filled in, on all the things we missed. You’ll show your ghosts, and I’ll show mine too. I’ll accept them all with the grace and patience that you have taught me. We’ll want to grow and dream beside each other. All with each other’s support, and without each other’s judgment. I want to learn about your passions. And make them my own too. I want to share with you what makes waking up so easy, and going to sleep so difficult. Because I am so excited about living life. 

You’ll know that I don’t like black licorice, candy corn, or the sounds of heavy metal. That I’ll read several books- all at the same time- because I was too indecisive to choose just one. Maybe you’ll like all the things that I don’t. And maybe I’ll learn to love them, because they are a part of you. We’ll also be the Tuesday kind of love- where we wake up after hitting snooze four, maybe five times. The coffee that was freshly brewed is now room temperature, because we couldn’t get out of bed. We would rather spend another five minutes looking out of half awake morning eyes, remembering how we are. Then eventually, we will lazily make our way into a semblance of a morning routine. Rushing out the door to work. All because it was five more minutes to share with you. Easily. Comfortably. Simultaneously.

I want to be surprised by you. I want you to challenge everything I have ever known. I want you to finally be someone I can stop comparing to all the others- because you are entirely your own. I hope that I can love you, and love myself, in tandem. Because I want to love you without losing myself, and only you will understand that best. I want you to do all the things you’ve ever wanted, and to know that I will never keep you from reaching the sky. We will champion each other’s dreams. And celebrate each other’s success. Lastly, I just want to spare some of your time, and spare some of my time, and spend it on each other. Something so much more valuable than money could buy, and something we can never seem to get enough of these days.

So, I hope you’re nothing that I imagined you would be. I hope that you don’t tick off all the boxes that I’ve made sure the next person should have. I hope that it’s not an all or nothing love. I hope that you are living your life, too busy chasing dreams, and making plans. I hope you’re spending all your time.

It’s nice to finally meet you. To see you again. Or maybe we just haven’t met quite yet. But know this, I look forward to loving you one day

Let’s go 50/50

Be patient with yourself

you’re doing the best you can

and when it feels too heavy

shift some of the burden

onto these shoulders of mine;

we can walk side by side.

Your worry is never

a fault of your own.

And when you get anxious,

give me the big pieces

we’ll split them in two-

one for me,

and one for you.

There’s no finish line

nothing that we’re racing to.

And we’ve got time-

time to worry,

time to fight.

But also

time to love,

time to smile,

time to hold;

onto each other,

and to release the rest.

So give give give,

the pieces you would rather

let go.

I’m taking taking taking,

it all in stride with you too.

-m.j.t.

Get Busy Living | What I thought about when I went for that long drive

I put on that playlist, comprised entirely of Vance Joy. I didn’t know where I was headed, but ‘Georgia’ started playing- and off I went.

It was around seven in the evening, and because of the time change, the sun was setting a little later than usual. I put on my blinker, turned left at the main intersection, and followed the sun. Chasing it almost. West it was.

‘She is electricity, running through my soul.’ A love like that. Electric love. I roll down the windows. Forgot to tie up my hair, so every few seconds, I’m pulling it away from my face. I remind myself that I should probably book a haircut. I haven’t gotten one since I returned to University last fall. Last August. It’s almost April. I’m different since that person. I can hardly remember what she was doing all those months ago. Settling back into the groove of school, friendships, remembering to eat healthy. Promising my mom I’d call home every few days. I haven’t talked to my parents since the weekend. I remind myself to do that too. ‘Do you like walking in the rain? When you think of love do you think of pain.’ He’s a crooner. Australian I think. This woman he loves must be incredible, must have also done a number on him. I wonder if they figured it out. I stop at a red light. Rolling to a stop behind a truck full of college guys. They’re excitedly talking about something. It’s Friday after all, so I conclude it must be plans about the weekend. I look to my left and right. One woman is scanning through stations. A man is reading something on his phone. Texting and driving- a silent killer I think. Dangerous. I turn up the volume a little louder. Cruising again. I look ahead, the sun is slowly dipping behind the tree line. Streaks of purples and pinks dance among the clouds. Every day we have the chance to look up, to witness another blessing, I remind myself to watch the sunset more often. You can’t replicate a color like that. Names of crayons flow through my mind. Periwinkle, Burnt Orange, Purple Pizzazz, Pink Flamingo. None of them do this day justice. I smell pizza somewhere. My stomach is rumbling. I should have brought a snack. The last time I had pizza was after a night out with some friends. I realize it has become tradition to order pizza after midnight. I remind myself that I should probably cut down on the pizza expenses. Hahaha. Every good night ends in pizza. My phone beeps from the center console, I ignore it. But I know that sound, it’s a text message. Don’t look at it, be a safe driver, it can wait. A four way stop, the roads have become two lanes, and traffic lights no longer hang above me. No one’s around, I can’t resist, I check my phone. “Are you going to be back soon?” It’s my roommate, I text back a quick “Yes, shouldn’t be long.” Now I’m shaking my head, no better than the guy reading his phone at a red light. A quick glance both ways, I proceed. 35 miles an hour. Well, at least I can give the houses a nice look. I imagine what it would have been like to grow up here. Seems quiet. Boring. Put on my blinker, right turn at the stop sign. I pull onto a road that looks familiar. I’ve been down this turn before. It is then that I realize, I knew where I was going all along. Two summers ago. We pulled down this road, a secret little hideaway that’s my favorite. I can almost hear the buzzing of insects. The thought of 85% humidity is making me sweat, I turn the a/c on a little cooler. 70 degrees. ‘You lined me up, across the room, two falling sparks, one willing fool.’ Of course, this song. The darkness is creeping up upon the day, and I turn on my headlights. Roll the windows back up, a gravel road is now crunching underneath my tires. A white dirt fog is coating the hood of my black car. I know that the entrance to the park is coming up soon, so I slow down. The gate is locked. I read the sign ‘Open from sunrise to sunset.’ Just missed it. I put my car in park. I look at this gate. Brown. Park brown. Crayola names. Rusting at the hinges. This is where the summer began. I close my eyes. I see it. Two laughing figures in an old beat up silver two door. ‘And I guess I knew it, this whole time, but these old feelings, have made me blind.’  I open my eyes, turn off the music, roll down the windows, breathe it all in. The sound of insects buzzing one final chorus. There’s that feeling again. So this is where I begin. Windows back up. Car in reverse. I hit black tar, and a single yellow stripe guiding me back. Four way stop, opposite stop sign, I text my roommate “I’m coming home.” I’m hungry, I remind myself to stop for pizza. Life’s too short to not eat pizza.

 

for the places we have never known:

Breathe deep

I know you’ve got your ghosts

And I’ve got some too,

They haunt the halls of your eyes,

And a faltered smile in the midst of daydreams.

I catch it in the ‘once’ and in between the ‘used to’.

Because I know that scars,

Are not always the ones we share and show.

Story time is everything we feared,

And every piece of you I’ll love.

I’m not afraid of the skeletons that have gotten dusty,

Or the way memories creep up like feelings

-so long are bad days.

It is how past lovers held the spaces between fingers,

traced the very same lines across your back

the visits to old places, sharing the same air where love once took its breath

and the faces splattered across walls,

pieces of things, remnants, pasts.

I should be scared,

I should turn back,

But this is me saying-

two feet firmly planted

roots grow here, love grows here.

Show me it all

I’m here for a while,

I’ve got time.

All these pieces- I will love you for.

This is where our love will inhale,

And on the exhale

I’m still here

beside you,

my dear.

-m.j.t.

Get Busy Living | I dare you to dream wildly

I’ve always been a dreamer. A girl of vast imagination, and a woman of strong ambition. I cling onto the hope of leaving like a crashed sailor adrift at sea. This world is too big for me to sit still for too long, and my hunger for life is always five steps ahead of my present self.

I’ve talked a lot about the appreciation of the here, the now. But there’s a quiet recess of my mind where the dreamer, adventurer, wanderer in me- wants to get out. Light up all my senses, and see the world that this body was made to travel in.

The difference between being a dreamer and wishing your life away, is that you’re working towards a goal. I have these dreams I carry with me, to motivate and inspire each and every single one of my choices. They carry me further in life- they make the success that much sweeter. I switch back and forth between being a lover of my life, and being a lover of the dream. What I hadn’t realized is that I can have both. To fall in love with my life, that will lead me to something bigger than myself.

This is the moment where these are more than just dreams, they are painted portraits of days to come.

The reason I started this blog was to show myself that I am learning, changing, and stumbling my way through. It is to document the good, the bad, and the in between. Because isn’t that what life- living- is really all about? The moments in between the great days, and the days where you can hardly get out of bed. It is the everyday. It is to remind myself of who I am, and to not forget to let myself be me, because it’s okay to just be me. So today, I am reminded that I am a dreamer- not much has changed since I first let my imagination run wild. I am a steady contradiction. I have yet to decide where to plant my feet, and where I want my roots to grow.

But all I know is that if there was a time for uncertainty, it is right now. I still don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but I hope that it’s a view of the Mediterranean kissing the shore of Greece. And I hope it tastes like spices dancing on my tongue in the shade of a vendors cart in India. Most of all, I hope it is illuminated by the Aurora Borealis, stretching across the skies with colors incomparable to a painters brush.

I invite you to be uncertain. I invite you to be a goal maker. I invite you to be someone who steps outside the horizons of a town too small for all you plan to do. I invite you to be a dreamer. I invite you to be the person you always wanted to be

 

"Somewhere between what she survived, and who she was becoming, was exactly where she was meant to be. She was starting to love the journey" -J.Raymond:

 

Get Busy Living | Here you are, again

In the flush of love’s light, we dare be brave. And suddenly we see that love costs all we are, and will ever be. Yet it is only love which sets us free.

From the eyes of a lover, the world takes on two shades- the way life was before falling, and the way the world looks after you’ve fallen. It is accurate to say we ‘fall in love’- your heart speeds up, it feels like it’s rising into your throat, you’re a little scared, and your body feels weightless. It is every sensation coursing through your body, suspended in time. But what comes of the after math once you’ve landed?

Once you’ve lost. You find yourself drifting. No longer between daydreams, but between the ghost of who you were, and the shell of who you are now. You learn what it means to build and form the foundation for who you want to be. You’re changed, and it makes you reevaluate the things you care for- to cast aside the things that no longer need your attention. You sift through the remnants of yourself, picking up only the vital pieces of a soul that was so carelessly scattered across the time and space of loving and leaving.

We forget that while we are basking in the golden light- that we must also urgently, ardently, and forcefully love ourselves as well. We have to keep the spirit and life that dwells within us, alive, afloat, and never let it be dampened down at the cost of loving someone else. It is a lesson that is hard learned, hard earned, and happens so subtly- that you most often never see it coming.  It is both magic and a curse to love someone so deeply. 

Do not confuse this for another article on how to heal a broken heart. This is a reminder to actively love someone alongside loving the most important one of all- you. Continue reading “Get Busy Living | Here you are, again”

This is what a kindred spirit feels like

“To discover a kindred spirit is to find your heart in the heart of a friend.” -Ann Parrish

My kindred spirit, I found you finally.

You carried my love for six growing years,

where we changed

time passed

and we became whole between us two.

Without each other,

we learned about the world.

It is a harsh sun that burns our skin,

And people with bitter tongues have spoken unkindly,

untrue, and broken down some of our defenses.

We grew wings that helped us soar,

and at times- people would try to clip them,

to keep us from the sky.

But what carried us strong was the promise of a dream,

the ones we painted behind closed eyes,

and shared over dinners,

which felt like passing moments,

where we became ships in the night.

Six years did we age,

another wrinkle by your eye,

and laugh lines that hug and emphasize that very smile-

that melted a heart in the summer heat of ‘09.

So when souls mingle,

and dance like ours,

we can finally stop wishing and hoping that we can get out of here.

You lean on me,

And you’ll keep me afloat,

This world promises us nothing-

But we’ve promised each other something much bigger than the world.

You’ve given me peace, love, light

In the war of life.

-m.j.t.