I'll Kiss the Sky

I ran down the hill with my arms thrown wide open and my heart exposed to the sun. It was euphoric and wonderful. I'd been thinking about flying and how spectacular it would be to pilot a plane, and as I crested that hill the sound of an engine buzzed about me. Squinting through the star-bursts of sunlight through the trees, I saw a small plane rolling and flipping through the air. I stopped and watched as it flew back and forth, flying toward the sun and barrel-rolling back down. It looked like a leaf dancing with the wind. I was enthralled. As pretentious as it might sound, it felt like that plane was there just for me to see, to compliment my earlier dreams of flying. And I wondered, why did it just have to be a dream? I've learned to dive deep into the blue below, why not soar in the blue above? It sounds corny now, but I thought, "I'll kiss the sky before I die" as I finally tore myself away from watching that pilot doing his stunts in blissful freedom. It filled my mind with fantasy the whole run home so that I couldn't even feel the miles go by.

I'm going to learn to fly.

No Regrets

I just saw Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and it set me to thinking. Thinking about the value of memories and the power of the emotion attached to them. The story is about a man who decides to have his memory erased of a relationship gone wrong, but as he's watching the memories disappear, he realizes he's losing the good with the bad and desperately wants to hold on to the good ones. But he can't. It's all or nothing. Yet even after it all, when the memories are gone, as soon as he sees the girl again, even though he doesn't know he's loved her before, he falls for her all over again. Because, you see, even without the memories, he is still the same person and she is still the same person and they are still drawn to each other.

Lately, I've wished I could erase some of my memories. I feel haunted by them, and I'd rather not have them at all than have to deal with the emotions that go with them. It confuses me because I used to strongly assert that I would always take the good with the bad and never complain, that the bad memories also help shape me and that there are always things that I can learn that can make me stronger.

When did I become such a coward?

I've been running. Trying to hide from the things in myself I don't want to face. I may have been running for a while. I recognize the familiar patterns in myself, the avoidance of anything real. But what if I stopped? What if I stopped and just let everything catch up to me? You can't hide from yourself, and I don't think I want to. I want to be free to be who I am, to be free to be who God made me. So what holds me up?

My will. That's what it is. When things don't turn out as I hope, when I'm disappointed, I have a hard time accepting. I get caught in the broken record loop of trying to figure out how I could have changed it, what I could have done differently. It's a sign of immaturity I think, that I can't accept when things don't go the way I want. It's why my memories sometimes seem to become a web that entangles me, it's why I feel bound, why I can't just be free. My carnal, selfish, nature holds me back.

So I need to let go, to resurrended to God and to His will. Let go of the expectations I've had and the desire to change things. To trust in God and have faith that He knows what He's doing, that He's shaping me into something, and that every experience has value. I don't like being afraid. It makes me angry and unhappy with myself, but the only way to escape these fears is to let God have control and stop trying to grab the reigns myself. I realize this has been my struggle lately.

I have to take the good with the bad. To thank God even for the hurts I've experienced because they teach me things and give me an opportunity to grow. I'm just me. Sometimes I mess up. But I'm learning. And what I've experienced is part of me.

At the end of the movie, the main characters end up deciding to be together even after finding out they had been together in the past, failed to make it work, and had the memories erased. They decided to make exactly the same decisions they made before. Why? Because they needed to. They needed those experiences becasue they were still the same people with the same thoughts and feelings and reactions. God knows the experiences we need.

In the past, I've been asked if I regret things. I always used to say that regret didn't really make sense. Even if I could go back to try to change something with present knowledge, if I changed it, I wouldn't have learned the lessons I know now. I'd be the same person, and as soon as the opportunity arose again, I'd make the same decisions I made originally. So all this regretting I've been doing recently? It's completely out of line with who I am and it is completely useless.

I've written about stuff like this before, I know. I suppose this must be some sort of cycle I go through when dealing with disappointment. But even though I might be sounding repetitive here, I don't think I'm simply looping back to where I've been. Each time I go through this learning cycle I'm a little different, and the lessons go a little deeper. Carnality is hard to change and character development is an intense process. Sometimes God has to beat things into/out of us. And me? I'm a little stubborn. I'm sure I'm not done learning these things.

But anyway, I'm ready to be out of this slump and attack life with all the passion and drive I can muster.

Hello again world.

Does anybody read this?

I'm thinking of ending the blog.

Self-abstracted

Dancing in these tattered rags

I'm here, peeking through

Stitch the holes, patch me up

Plaster of Paris and I'm stiff again.

Who was I then, in those halycon days?

And would I ride the axis of time if I could?

I'm not trying to be cryptic, just ambiguous.

You understand.

Oh, and I don't want to be a pillar of sand.

Streched too far, maybe I'll tear

Grow me back stronger

And try me again

Show me the mountain, I promise to climb

Can't stop in case I don't start again

Momentum taking me, where was I going?

I'm not lost, just finding my way.

You understand.

Oh, and I just don't want to be the giving up sort.

Remember the time I didn't know the answer?

But I do, I think

It was hiding, behind a plastered wall

And I wonder if I should tear it down

And will it grow back stronger

I'm not trying to be sensitive, just cautious

You understand.

Oh, and I don't know if I'm ready yet.

Reflections

There are surprises cradled in every new day. It's the run-up to another Feast, and I can't help but reflect on where I was a year ago--caught up in the tornado trial of preparing to move to Ireland. And here I am... back in the same place but not where I started. I think about the person I am now and the person I was then. I think I've learned some prudence and maybe some patience too.

In some ways I think I'm more spontaneous now. Even the best laid plans don't always yield the results you expect. I follow my impulses more, and in some way, that might make me freer. I'm much more inclined to take off my shoes and run outside in the rain just because I feel like it than I was a year ago.

Everything is a choice. I don't believe in blaming anyone for who I am or what challenges I face. Does it even matter who's at fault? Maybe sometimes I'll suffer trials because of the mistakes others make, and while I may struggle not to point the finger, in the grander scheme of things, it's just another opportunity to grow. It's hard to keep things in perspective. This life is a training ground to teach us the fruits of the spirit and the fruits of corruption. An illustration of right and wrong and the consequences that result. It's a challenge to learn to uphold godly principles in a satan-driven world.

As I enter into another relationship, as I pull down my defenses bar by bar and risk getting hurt, the theme of choice is foremost in my mind. I can choose to be afraid, to pull back, to refuse to get too emotionally involved. Relationships are dangerous stuff after all. But I'd hate myself if I did that, and even worse, I'd be left to regret the chances I didn't take.

Every day and every moment I decide whether to be a good daughter, a good friend, a good girlfriend, a good employee, and a good Christian. One day I may get married and have kids, and then I'll have to decide to be a good wife and a good mother. The choices never stop.

And so, instead of being afraid, I'll pour that energy into being the best I can be for you. Maybe it will be enough and maybe it won't, but I promise I'll give it all I have. And if one day we part ways, well, there will be more choices to make about who we'll be, but in the end I think we'll make each other better.

I wonder what kind of reflections I'll have a year from now.

Red Bull gives me wings!

So this morning I decided to experience my first Red Bull. That’s right, I’ve never tried one before. I just like coffee so much that I never saw the need for an alternative caffeine source. But this morning, falling asleep at my desk, I decided I was in the mood for something new.

I also decided that I should document this experience.

9:19AM – Just bought my Red Bull. First observation: the can isn’t all that big. That’s a lot of caffeine in a small space. Also, I’m having a hard time restraining myself from repeatedly saying, “Red Bull gives you wings!” with extreme enthusiasm. I’ve already said it about 5 times on my way in with my new purchase. I think I’ve reached the socially acceptable limit. ;-) Also, my co-workers might hurt me if I say it again…

9:21AM – First sip. And the first thing I thought of was anit-freeze. I don’t know why. I’ve never tried drinking anti-freeze… I promise.

9:30AM – Wow. This stuff is like a little can of happy. I feel great. I just got back from the restroom and had an almost uncontrollable urge to skip down the halls. I can’t believe how quickly this is affecting me.

9:35AM – Last sip. Have you ever read the label of promised benefits on a can of Red Bull? Let me enlighten you. 1) “Improves performance, especially during times of increased stress or strain”. Stress and strain?!? Now… I’m a mechanical engineer (news flash!). So, stress and strain mean something very particular to me. What do they think people are doing when they drink this? Let me go draw a Mohr’s circle for my increased acceptable stress and strain limits—this way I can make sure that bridge I’m holding up won’t permanently deform me. 2) “Increased concentration and improved reaction speed”. Yes, I feel very focused right now. Quick, try to punch me and see how fast I react! My spidey sense in tingling—or maybe that’s just a caffeine overdose. 3) “Stimulates the metabolism”. Yay! King-size chocolate bar, here I come!!! Guilt-free! Woohooooooo!

9:58AM – Ahem. I have the giggles. Hehe.

10:09AM – My throat muscles feel tight. I blame it on the glucuronolactone. My body doesn’t know what to do with that many letters.

10:18AM – Almost an hour post-Red Bull. I feel like the high is starting to wear off.

10:53AM – First post-Red Bull yawn.

10:55AM – Somebody stole my wings! Also, I’m tired of writing this blog. It reminds me of why I hate Twitter. Multiple life-updates an hour are tedious for all involved.

11:18AM – Well, that’s that. I’m back to falling asleep at my desk. It was a fun ride though! This concludes my documentation on Red Bull consumption.

Please stay seated until the ride comes to a complete stop...

I’m contemplating change, and what the effect of it is. After a year full of change, I sometimes wonder where I’m left after it all. The shape of my anticipated future has morphed and warped so many times that I’m afraid to even look at it anymore. But even though it’s been a rollercoaster of ups and downs, I can’t say I’ve suffered any sort of tragedy—just what’s to be expected for someone unwilling to let a challenge or opportunity ever pass by.

I find myself praying that God will let me off the rollercoaster—show me now if my newest aspirations or hopes will fall to ruin. I suppose I’m afraid of getting hurt. I feel so fragile these days, and I hate feeling fragile. My mom used to always tell me I was sensitive when I was younger, and I always took great offense to that. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to never show tears. I wanted to be able to take on anything.

But what is strength anyway? Particularly for a Christian? I no longer believe that if I cry sometimes, it makes me weak. Yet at the same time, it’s something I do in private and I always hate myself for it if I slip up in public. So maybe I still am ashamed in some way.

In the face of change, stability comes in the Lord. I know faith in God and in His plan for me is what’s gotten me this far. But there’s still that carnal side of me that wants to hide a bit from the next thrill ride. I won’t, because that’s the way I’ve always been. It may be a struggle against myself, but I’ll always get on again. Maybe that’s what active patience is all about—being willing to face life and give it your all even when you’re not completely sure where the rollercoaster leads yet. I have to believe it will pay off in the end.

I feel a bit skittish today and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the last bits of poison from my recent struggles seeping from my pores so I can move forward uninhibited. I don’t mean to say that the trials themselves are poison, but the fear and doubt that sometimes result. Jesus Christ was ridiculed and persecuted, yet He never shied away from doing the work. How can I shy away from something so simple as living my life and applying myself to both the opportunities and trials God gives me? As a Christian, I can’t. As a carnal human, I can. So I guess what it comes down to is growing in faith and God’s spirit. And as I climb the rollercoaster, all I can do is pray and trust that God knows what He’s doing.

I guess I really am sensitive. It’s still something I hate to admit to.

Pinnacle

We stood at the pinnacle of a new day,
Sun cleaning the world and turning the ocean to glass.
I imagine lava-blackened sand warming our toes.
Imagine--because it hasn't happened yet,
And I hear there are rocks on the beaches.
I wonder what we'll think in those captured moments,
Suspended in time by the dreamers still in their beds,
But not too much--because it hasn't happened yet,
And I want it to be a surprise.
Will it seem that the Kingdom has descended around us?
God's spirit enhancing every exhaled breath.
There is a timid anticipation of expectation,
But not too much--because it hasn't happened yet,
And I want the moments to bring themselves.
So if we do stand there one day,
Watching the sunrise on the tropical shore,
I'll smile and look at you with thanks,
But not yet--because it hasn't happened yet,
And now is the time for hope.

The Year of the Rollercoaster

A sense of euphoria colors the paint on the walls brighter
And I wonder if it's real,
Hoping the high-noon sun won't burn it away
And leave something faded and pealed.
Inquisitively hopeful on my knees I pray
And tell God I'll wait and see.
Active patience will bring me
To where I need to be.

In the Whirlwind

Confusion. The blown leaves of past emotions gathering at the door, impeding its swing as I stand there, hesitant about whether it should even be opened. Sometimes I feel handicapped by the passions that grow so easily inside of me and sometimes I want to stand beneath the caress of the sun and scream. Impatience. Show me the end before the beginning and I'll make the journey all it can be. Catch 22 because the journey is made by the mystery ahead. But I just don't want to wait to find out that I'm wrong. Fear. Often denied but always present. Are my steps too quick and am I all I need to be? Always the threat of coming up short. I have before. Stubbornness. I'll open the door and let the leaves blow through, step quickly inside and scream as I do. When I fall, there will be scars and pain, but I'll always be quick to get up again. Limping on in an attempt to redeem, but hoping for someone on which to lean.

Beauty in the Breakdown

Standing on the porch, watching the rain fall--not the soft diamond-drops of an overcast day, but the violent downpour of a desperate, emotional storm--she turns to me with absolute calm. "It's alright; there's beauty in the breakdown."

I look back at the rain, ripping through the grass lawn and leaving puddles of mud to flash back reflections of lighting. They are song lyrics that have been stuck in my head for days. "I love the rain," I say. The lyrics are true. Emotional drama today, but new beginnings tomorrow. Tomorrow the grass will be greener, the trees fuller--reaching toward a sun that seems as if it will always shine.

"Jonah was shipwrecked and in the belly of a great fish for three days and nights, but afterwards..." Her voice is lost in the crying of the wind.

"...But afterwards, a whole nation repented."

"Do you fear the storm?"

Do I? I have to think about this. "I always say I'll take the good with the bad."

She laughs. "That's something people say in good times."

And now? In the middle of this whirlwind of lightning and thunder? Despite the rain, I can hear voices from inside the house. Trickles of laughter and memories of smiles. I know them, all of them. They make me feel warm despite the cool dampness of the air. God says to fear nothing but Him. God speaks in the gentle quiet of those voices. Together we are stronger.

"No, I don't fear it."

"But it hurts, right?"

I close my eyes, let the full force of my deeper emotions take me. "Yes. It hurts."

She is quiet now. I open my eyes again, take a step toward the front steps. A fine spray of water prickles my skin. The trees bend at impossible angles with the force of the wind, but somehow, they stay standing. It is beautiful, in its way. The powerful energy of it, the strength of the things that survive, the reshaping of the world in the turmoil of a short time, and the hope of tomorrow. The confidence that the sun really will shine again. And then? What then? Endless possibilities and an overflowing of adventure. And eventually... the Kingdom.

I won't be afraid. The rain won't wash me away. I was here before and I'll be here after, rebuilt into something better. I nod to her and smile, despite it all. And then, I step out into the rain.

It's alright; there's beauty in the breakdown.

Latter Rain

Upturned eyes and outstretched hands
Lips parted to kiss the drops of
Latter Rain.
Here, yearning and eager I stand
Waiting for you to fill me with
All You became.

Dance for joy in streamers of living waters
And sparkles of treasured moments with
Your lambs.
Look, the hills once red with the slaughter
Are now white with the harvest of
A new land.

De Brief

I just had a really amazing weekend. A lot more amazing than I expected it to be, considering the circumstances (or one circumstance in particular). Camping in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan with a group of friends harkens me back to those first years of LYC, when I was just learning to express myself socially.

Everyone has their sense of tragedy that they cling to, and mine is that I’m an only child who frequently moved and changed schools as a kid. I rarely had a group of friends for longer than a few years, and always I was facing the harsh judgments and critical eyes of a new set of classmates. My first years of camp gave me a safe place to test my personality amongst others, and to learn that I could contribute to a group. Each year saw more of my shyness (almost crippling at the start) and insecurities fall away.

I still don’t get many opportunities to spend time with groups of friends, or at least, less opportunities than I’d like. So, often after one of these experiences, I expend a lot of energy on self-reflection. I wonder how others perceived my actions and what impression I left. I think about what I’d like to do differently and who I’d like to be in the future.

Usually social situations still give me slight anxiety, but strangely, I had none this weekend. I felt more comfortable with myself than I remember ever really feeling for such an extended time, and as a result, I think my personality came out much more than usual. I think this was because of a combination of factors. Having moved to another country and back, lived on my own, and shown I was willing to make life changing decisions has left its mark on me. It’s made me feel more like a capable adult and less like a child. But another factor that seems to be prevalent is a particular person, and this perplexes me a bit. I’ve never experienced someone bringing me out of me (perhaps even the best of me?) without actually being present. How can someone effect me so drastically so quickly? This is kind of one of those “does not compute” moments and I think I’m better off not trying to analyze it too much. I can’t decide if I’m thrilled or terrified.

Getting back to my reflections on my personality, there are two main areas that I tend to be insecure about. One, which I’ve blogged about before, is my worry that I’m not feminine enough. I know a lot of my interests and hobbies tend to be ones associated with guys and I wonder if some of my personality traits have that tendency too. The other thing I worry about is coming across as annoying or bothersome. I tend to be an extremist with things, so when I’m in to something I’m 100%. I can also be a bit crazy sometimes, especially when I’m happy and hyped on caffeine. I don’t know if this can sometimes become overbearing to others.

I probably spend too much effort thinking about how I’m perceived through the eyes of others. It seems that this could easily be vanity but it could also be consideration for others. Don’t you have to do this to an extent to avoid offending your brother? We are told to examine ourselves, but that is in the context of setting Christ as the example. Hmm. So I guess the difference between staring in the mirror for vanity’s sake and staring in the mirror for self-examination is whether you have Christ standing there behind your shoulder to compare to. That changes the perspective a bit, and maybe instead of focusing on whether my personality is socially acceptable, I should be considering whether my actions are godly. If I strive to treat others with the fruits of the spirit, then the rest should just fall into place.

Grasping at the Wind

So I've discovered that working out like a mad person pretty much negates my need for sleep. It all seems very counter-intuitive to me, but the more energy I expend during the day, the more wired I am at night. I wonder if there is a limit to this?

Anyway, I'm down to about 3-4 hours of sleep a night. That means a lot of time to talk to people, read, play video games, etc... I alternate between distracting myself from the the contemplations of life and lying on my bed in deep reflection. So I can't say I'm indulging in escapism, just breakism.

Do I feel guilty about how my last relationship ended? Yes, if I'm honest about it. I don't like knowing I'm the one who did the hurting at the last. I'd much rather have been horribly mistreated so I could feel free of any responsibility. But that just isn't how it happened. My own personal hurt was slow and steady, culminating into a gnawing need for something to change. But who was to blame? When compatibility is the issue, when you discover maybe you didn't fit someone as well as you thought, who can you point the finger at? Especially when at the end, you still consider the other a good person.

All this makes self-reflection rather difficult. I want to see clearly the mistakes I made, to know how to avoid a repeat future, but I'm having a hard time pinpointing it. If I had to do it all again, I think I would probably do everything exactly the same way, because my feelings were always genuine and I think my actions always honest. So what now? What do I take away from this?

And how many times to I go through this same line of thinking, to come again to an answerless dispersion of thoughts. With Passover coming, I feel desperate to see my sins clearly, to make things right somehow. What is the conclusion of the matter?

How do you atone for something you don't regret? Do you? And am I wrong to have no regrets? I loved with all my heart, I learned with all my heart, and I made my choices with all my heart. But at the end of it all, there is hurt, there are scars, there is the need for healing. Logically, my mind tells me that pain is the evidence of something done wrong. And herein lies my dilemna-my need to discover what my fatal mistake must have been. Because my internal logic doesn't just believe that pain is the evidence of something done wrong, but something *I* did wrong.

Ah, vanity. I'm grasping at the wind.

Hello World!

Hello World! Could you please provide me with a printf of my life? I’d like to evaluate the output and revise the code accordingly. (//Adding comments for clarity). Several do-while loops are running simultaneously, and it’s hard to keep track. Blowing bubbles with my gum while typing on my keyboard (if jaw is sore, then spit out gum and end loop). Flexing my leg muscles in sequence while rotating my ankle (if something pops, end loop). Reflecting on my past while contemplating my future (infinite do-while). Renaming machine learning attributes while listening to emo/indie/alternative/rock (if emo penetrates skull, end loop). Perhaps I need to go through this line my line, defining all variables and checking for errors. Sometimes I miss a semi-colon or two, such a minute detail, and I find myself completely derailed and on the floor in a heap. The next step is to run diagnostics on my knees, and recompile. I’ve been a bit slow getting to diagnostics mode this time, and my finger is sore from jamming the compile button so many times (Fatal Error!). I’m getting there though, and it will be time to write new code soon, but there is evaluation that needs to be done first, structure defined, clear logic planned. There are risks to take… if I get it wrong the crash could be damaging. Truncated logic bits scattered amiss. But I have to try anyway, to get the architecture right.

Because what’s the point of a program of do-while loops that doesn’t actually DO anything? I aspire to be more than just a “Hello World!”.

Oscillations

I oscillate between moments of contentment and extreme emotional distress. I wish I could control it better, but I suppose I've always been one to go to extremes. I don't really know how to halfway do things, so I'm either in turbo drive or I'm not going anywhere. I haven't figured out yet how to harness my energy and make it consistent. This is particularly a struggle in spiritual matters. I find myself going through periods of zeal and vigor followed by shear ladeocean laziness.

I also find that I seem to be out of sych with people sometimes. Something that seems like a fair sacrifice or a worthy challenge or an obvious reaction will seem like going overboard to others. I don't mind this, but I do wonder if I really am a bit crazy.

If I could just permanently switch myself onto extreme God-seaking mode, I'd be golden. In the meantime, I'll continue to struggle with myself.

The Race

The sun will rise again, and I'll wake to its warm yellow-joy rays shearing the night from my skin.
The rain will fall again, and it will rinse clean the blood spattering of my sins (they're living waters, you know).
Another Passover, another Pentecost, another re-affirmation of covenant and promise.
Take the momentum and run,
There's a race to be won.

Demand Response

Well cyberspace, what shall I tell you today?

I haven't a clue. My brain is clogged with unfinished thoughts. And I really, really want to go skydiving. That probably sounds completely illogical, but emotional strain makes me crave extreme, adrenaline-pumped, experiences. Perhaps it's escapism. Actually, scratch that, I know it's escapism.

I wonder sometimes if my fundamentals for evaluating the world are wrong. That's mostly because I know I don't yet have enough of the mind of Christ in me so say that I'm not missing anything crucial in my assessment of situations. I think I'd rather be dead than imprisoned. Doesn't that sound horrible? When I feel held back and my growth stunted, I'll viciously fight to break free--that is, when there's a clear challenge before me.

Relationships are hard because I can't always identify what the challenges should be. I have a tendancy to bend around people, to try to make myself what is needed, but sometimes I bend too far and then I snap. I did this recently, and now I have to figure out how to tell the person involved that our synchronization wasn't natural. I want to be a giver, and I'm striving to learn what Godly femininity should mean. Submission is important to me, but I also think it is important for me to encourage whoever I'm with to be the best they can be. But if the person doesn't want to be pushed, I have to submit anyway, and that has a tendancy to leave me frustrated. In a way, I guess I feel it limits me, because in driving others I can also drive myself. Maybe I just need to learn to relax. But it's that whole finish the race, fight the good fight, thing. Sometimes I get the urge to reach out to others and drag them toward the finish line with me. Meanwhile I often find myself neglecting the things I need to do to ensure my salvation. How hypocritical of me. But I often feel it would be so much easier to surrender completely to God if someone were holding a gun to my head and demanding I curse Him.

So how was that, cyberspace?

I'll bare all...

Funny how things work... I had a whole blog written, something pretty raw, and with an accidental slip of the finger, it was gone.

It wasn't the kind of thing I could rewrite.

Something totally different is about to come out instead.

I moved a lot as a kid, and because of that I think I developed some insecurities with myself. I never really saw my long-term value to others, because I was never long-term with others. The hardest move was from Pennsylvania to Long Island, because I went from the mountains to the suburbs. I'd been a city kid before that, but in the mountains I found something that appealed to me--freedom. I don't know if I've ever been happier than in that year and a half I spent wandering the woods and riding my bike over gravel roads.

But in the suburbs of Long Island there was none of this. I wasn't allowed to ride my bike past the block because it wasn't safe (not that there was anywhere fun to ride), and the kids at school were much harsher, more judgmental than they had been in Pennsylvania. Couple that with slowing adolescent metabolism and I was suddenly the overweight shy kid in junior high. I was a prime target for teasing and attack.

I rode the school bus home every day, and this one boy started sitting next to me uninvited, spending the entire half-hour trip telling me how much he liked me. My blushing was embarrassing. Even my skeptical self started to believe he was genuine after months of this. Every day, asking me out and me shaking my head 'no'--mostly because I was too shy and awkward with boys to manage much else.

And then one day it changed. One day he sat next to me, one of his friends in the seat across, and told me I was fat, and ugly, and that he'd never go out with someone like me. I was trapped, forced to stare out the window and hold back tears as they verbally abused me and shattered what little hope I'd had that maybe someone found me desirable.

Of course, everyone has stories like that. It's funny how things that happen to you as a kid can stick with you and feel so significant even later on. I grew out of my awkward stage, and feel relatively comfortable with myself now, but the truth is, I learned doubt from that experience.

And now, here, looking back on a relationship that ended with an unwillingness to do everything needed for our future, I wonder if it was a joke as well. And I wonder what it will take to make me trust again.

This childhood memory has been forward in my mind lately, and I'm figuring that means it's related to what I'm feeling now. A whole lot of insecurity.

But what's the proper response? I've thought of how liberating it might be to erase all hope, all dreams, all aspirations, to be a current of the wind, intangible, something you can't even point to and say, "there". And in the next thought I've been angry with myself, refusing to give up on dreaming, refusing to be discouraged.

And I've gotten reckless, craving adrenaline and danger. Driving dangerously, training for a marathon that's already doing damage, looking for something to push my limits. I want to do something incredibly stupid. That probably sounds self-destructive, but that's not the impetus. The point is survival, to feel alive, to refuse to let myself grow numb and curl up in a cocoon of anti-socialism.

And so the recklessness will likely continue, in every way. I'll bare myself, and bare I'll stand. I'll open my emotions up, open myself up to the criticism of the world. Tell me what you see. Tell me! I want to know. How desperately I want to know... Am I a disease that ruins a good thing? Am I too critical, too harsh? Could I ever be a good wife, a good mother? Or is there just too much work I have to do to get there? Maybe I'm just too independent. Is there someone out there who I won't drive into the ground with my over-achieving personality? Can I slow down long enough to settle down? I'm so restless sometimes... Tell me what you see. And maybe it will help me become a better Christian, a better daughter, a better friend, a better soldier of the truth.

Yet I haven't a clue who I'm talking to, posting on a blog no one knows I'm using.

Please tell me.