Insomnia

I haven't been able to sleep the past few nights.

Because every time I close my eyes I see someone I love in the place of someone I recently pulled out of a twisted, battered and broken hunk of metal.

Because I am so angry at someone I don't even know for putting the precious gift that is the life and trust of a child in jeopardy.

Because no one should have to hear the echos of a child calling for their mother, and the echos going unanswered every night.

Because it's not my job to collect ghosts in my heart.

But this was one of those calls where I just can't help it.

Getting Back To Me

Reflection. It's become a lifestyle for me since graduating from university (which, yes, if anyone is doing the math - that was indeed almost 2 years ago).

And, ironically, a blog is a great place for reflection and writing and thinking and developing new ideas and interests. Yet somehow, I shoved it to the side in the course of my life transitions and reflections. So, I'm here to correct that.

I've always been someone who thinks and expresses best when I do it in writing. Words make sense to me. Words written on paper and on blank white screens somehow manage to take the chaos of my mind and my tendency to think and over-think and then over-think some more, and make something fluid and concise and meaningful out of my thoughts and emotions.

Writing and reflecting - it's something that I've always done when I feel like I've drifted away from the things that are most important to me and who I am and who I would like to be. The things that make me the best version of myself - the one who is most able to go out there and be a positive and dynamic and contributing force in the world.

I've been doing a lot of writing this past year and half; none of it has been made public though. Much of my writing was too personal, too introspective, too revealing of my most inner thoughts and desires and self-judgments. But what I've also come to realize is that it is that writing which needs to be shared. The raw writing that gets me back to me.

Because ultimately, I am the sum of my experiences. I am that which has been forged by my own actions, the love of my parents and family and friends, and the beautiful and unique encounters that I have had with strangers over the course of my lifetime. I am the creation of the wisdom I have found for myself and that which has been entrusted to me by those I love and respect.

So I'm getting back to me and what makes me - well, me. And this blog is going to be a part of it.

So gather round, listen in, and prepare yourselves. It's going to be an interesting journey.

Changes

Hi. Hello there. Have we met before?

Oh...yes, I'm CW. It's so nice to see you again.

Oops. Apologies for my extended absence from the blog. Things have been...crazy.

You see, there's a lot of changes that have happened in the past 3 months, and a lot of changes that will hopefully be happening soon. I'm in this odd state of finishing up both undergrad and grad school all at once, I have my Teaching Associateship rapidly approaching, I'm moving somewhere in a 3 month time frame as well, and essentially starting life in the real-world(ish). Hell, I even bought a car; that practically screams "Welcome to the real world, grown-up!" I think my mind just imploded on itself in the face of all these adult prospects.

But there have been a few constants in my life that I've become supremely grateful for these past few months:

1. Coffee. In copious quantities.
2. The rescue squad, and my utterly dysfunctional, yet completely adored crew mates.
3. My mentor-slash-adopted grandfather, the ever present voice of reason and encouragement.
4. The solitude of the children's books room in the education library.
5. Coffee. In even more astounding quantities.

Yet, in spite of all these lovely, and much needed, constants, I have come to the conclusion that I, in fact, fear change. Which is a shocking revelation because I have spent much of my life trying to convince myself that change and fluidity are good, and that I am an adaptable person by nature.

This is, apparently, false.

Never have I been more frightened of what the future may hold in my entire life.

This, alone, is a frightening realization in its own right, given some of my past life experiences; for this to be the single most frightening prospect I have ever faced is, in many ways, ludicrous--irrational. I've faced down tougher stuff. I should be stronger than this. I should be more courageous than this. I should be fearless.

But I'm not.

There's a part of me that's crying out, "This is all happening too soon! You're only 21! You're too young to be taken seriously by the real world, much less have half a chance of making it out there." That part of me desperately wants to believe such things to be true. That part of me is clinging wantonly to the familiar, kicking and screaming in protest in the face of change, and that is the part of me I find most disappointing.

So from here on out, there will be some changes. I refuse to disappoint myself; to fall short of my own expectations. I refuse to let the prospect of change confuse and paralyze me with fright.

"The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance."--Alan Watts