Fearful

I seem to have hit momentary writer's block. Can you even hit writer's block for a blog that's only read by your most loyal friends? Does this make my one minor claim to authorship even more ridiculous?

Unfortunately for those opposed to the overexposure of the blogosphere, I'm going to sit here in my striped Oompa Loompa leggings, my brother's old Tusker shirt and hopefully find an 8tracks list that inspires some wisdom. Reflecting on my writer's block, I live in two extremes...

The first extreme is one where my brain buzzes a mile a minute: "After I finish my undergrad, I should move to Europe... I should get my childhood proficiency in Portuguese back... I should write my thesis on a mathematical model to address the injustices of the developing world." This mostly happens as I'm trying to fall asleep. The second is a stillness, an almost eerie peace and emptiness of mind. This happens when I cuddle with my puppies or wade the waves of the Gulf. In the interest of blog writing, extremes are not productive...

The mile-a-minute thoughts evoke one primary reaction. Fear, but a fear that is intensified because my speculations and imaginings are my wildest dreams. Fear, that is intensified because I'm not sure if my dreams and ambitions and passion are relevant or possible in the environment I find myself in. And yet, I live for the moments when my joie de vivre conquers my fear. There was this moment when I was alone on the beach with my puppies and "Footloose" came on my iPod. Not dancing would have been the tougher choice...

My dad and I have a bizarre relationship. We are music connoisseurs (spell check just informed me that I don't know how to spell that word, oops). We have serious conversations around "The Stranger" album (Billy Joel). I explain why "Vienna" means so much to me and then we discuss how "Only the Good Die Young" adresses the rules of the church that we follow simply because they're  rules and not because we understand them. Then, we throw our intellectual concerns away, because "She's Always a Woman" is an intoxicating melody that must be sung. We did "Rumours" (Fleetwood Mac) on the way into work one morning and drove to home to Earth, Wind and Fire's greatest hits. I even bring Taylor Swift along for the ride, because I'm an eighteen year old girl at the end of the day...

The other night, I was feeling down, caught in one of those moments of fear. That night, my golden retriever, Pippin, was restless and kept returning to lie in my doorway, right next to my bed. It might be because of the howling wind in my parent's room, but I choose to believe it was the instinct of a faithful, loving friend. My golden buddies are as high maintenance as a couple of toddlers, but I ultimately love their smelly, needy, mischievous puppy selves. We are inextricably linked, in mutual infatuation and unconditional love...

I feel comfortable here, on the DesRoches property in Goose River. The routine is basic: the occasional run in the morning along the cliff, a last-minute cup of tea in my Starbucks mug from London, work, my mom's cooking (with special mention for her garlic bread), puppy cuddles, a couple rounds of Facebook Scrabble with my friend Tim, getting way too invested in Downton Abbey, and exclaiming over our marvellous sunsets. Sometimes, we mix it up and adventure: live theatre, live music, and taking some of our favorite back roads. I have a very comforting rapport with my parents. My dad and I fight about the same things. My mom's my confidante, although infinitely more wise...

Then there's some redhead that flew up here from Texas. Granted, between our plans and the hours I had to work the week she was here, it flew by. Still, I have been so blessed to know Rebekah Follingstad and to have this time to dance under the stars to the Dixie Chicks (live!!) and generally act like a couple of crazies. New York is next on our bucket list of places to see together. I don't doubt it will happen. Granted, being separated sucks. But, it also makes you appreciate that taking the money
and time to make the trek and see each other is worth the sacrifice. Still, I echo Andy Grammer in saying "It's fine by me, if you never leave. And, we can live like this forever, it's fine by me." It's not every best friend who shares the giddy experience of Moody McSpurgeon flirting with you...

Three pages of my thought-scribbling notebook later, the writer's block seems to be fading. It's a mixture of that summer lull in motivation, coupled with that fear I described... So, I love Sara Bareilles. Her new album is very album. Also, how fun is the renaissance of Fall Out Boy? It's like adolescence  but without the ugly and awkward bits... But I'm getting carried away. Sara's new single, "Brave" is a fun time and a great way to kick off a workout session. So, this summer, my goal is allowing myself a break, from the people and the complex situations that burned me out. Hopefully, I will gather my confidence and embrace the passion of my dreams in spite of my fear. And above all, I'll temper it with the seasoned wisdom of Proverbs 3:5-6 and stop leaning on my own understanding. In all my ways, I acknowledge my Creator and His Heart for the spiritually, emotionally and physically destitute....

"And so it goes, one foot after the other til black and white begin to color in, and I know that holding us in place is simply fear of what's already changed..."