life these days...

is a emotive and confusing thing.

I am relearning how to exist on a different plane, and in a different place than I have for the last two and a half years, and say what you will about the ups and down that had been happening in the recent months, this time it's different, and this time it's real.

Where my brain is at in terms of life plan has had to change in a huge way, faster than I could have ever imagined, just to keep up with what's going on in real life.  It's terrifying.  At times, it feels so contrived, that it can't be true, and I wake up from daymares to realize that yes, this is what has happened.

I am not unsure about my own self-worth, or my ability to take on the world.  That does not mean I'm not confused, not scared, not furious at feeling at one time both sadness and anger at this change.  I thought things were more clear, and yet it seems that I have to explain the explanations - that for all the clear clarifications in the world still left gaps.

And saying that I'm "sad" does my feelings no justice.  I am so much more than "sad"  and so much less.  And I have leaned on everyone I can, for ever time a shoulder has been offered, I've needed one.

The Bethy that existed before doesn't anymore, and she won't be back.  As fresh, as hurtful as this is, it lends itself to stitching up my own heart, piece by piece, in hopes that someday I'll be able to call it complete again.

I don't know when that will be...I hope sooner rather than later...but I don't know.

Bear with me.

who would have thought...

     8 years ago today, I was a senior in high school.  I had just decided that I would be going to the University of San Francisco for Performing Arts and Social Justice in the fall, and I was excited...and absolutely terrified.  I had never lived anywhere except Lacey, WA, the only international trip I had ever gone on was to Canada, and I had never flown on a plane by myself.
     I would have never guessed that 8 years later I would be sitting here, in Boston, in graduate school - after living in and loving California, Ireland, Mexico, Alaska, New Jersey, and North Carolina.  How could I have imagined moving myself, my life, my things across the country - and world - so many times, and finding the most excellent people on my journeys.  I had no idea...
   
     That 17 year old senior had no clue what it was like to get her heart broken (like REALLY broken), though she thought she had a good idea...she had no idea how her perceptions of herself, ever growing, ever changing, would make her a stronger person.  She didn't realize that not everything is black and white, and that just because it's not right for her, that doesn't mean it's wrong for someone else.
     But most of all, she had no way of knowing just how strong she could be.  Lacey, it turns out, didn't push her much.  But the other places did.  And she responded to the pushing and the pulling by being more flexible than that 17 year old ever thought was possible.  (And then, when the time for flexibility was over, she stood up strong, and took no one's crap).
     Some of the things that used to make her heart dance still do, and she had discovered a whole host of other things that bring her joy.  She couldn't have known that the joys would get better, and the disappointments would get worse, but that, after a while, this wouldn't be a surprise anymore.
     She would be able to advocate for herself in times of stress or confrontation.  She would still feel like crying if she felt confronted, but she would eventually stop being embarrassed about it, and would be able to own her tears, and stop them from weakening her.  She would find that the emotional freedom that comes from crying is worth its weight in gold.
     And she didn't realize that time goes so fast, and that's not a reason to hide inside and hoard it, but instead to take it all in and make as much of it as she can.  Cause life - it's happening.  And you never know when that's going to end.  Carpe Diem, 17 year old Bethy.  These last 8 years have been fucking amazing.  Here's to a whole bunch more...

Love, Bethy

PS.  There is one thing that the 17 year old was really good at, though, that the 25 year old is very good at too - procrastinating on homework, hahaha.  No, but seriously.  Ugh.
   

Same Love

In our last class on Monday, my policy and systems professor, who is absolutely amazing (and one of the most academically recognized and respected people I know) spoke to the class about the importance of the food systems analysis we'd been trying to understand all semester.

She spoke about human rights and human right to food and water.  She's been working on high profile cases for years, and is well known in human rights advocate circles.

And then she spoke passionately about the civil rights movement, and how she had watched it, from the beginning, and seen it transform the world.

And all I could think of was this:

I hope that some day, and some day soon, the pockets of people that believe that others cannot love whoever they want will not exist.  Until that happens, I will fight for love - anyone and everyone's love.

Love, Bethy

Musical Punctuation

     Yesterday, I had a long day.  A very long day.

     And, to be honest, I didn't start it the most well-rested...Monday night, I slept in four to five 20-30 minute increments trying to finish papers for school, so by Tuesday morning, I was getting pretty loopy already.

     I got to work a few minutes early and sucked down some coffee before getting on the truck.  Normally, I work from 8 to 4, but I had a dentist appointment at 4:15 all the way across town, so I left the truck at 3:00.

     Now generally, after I leave work, I am so exhausted I can hardly stand, much less focus on anything, and this time, though I left early, I was just trying to get to the dentist on time.  I got on the red line from work, transferred at Park St, and instead of getting on the green line home, I walked to Downtown Crossing, relishing the warm air in the underground tunnel that normally is stifling and too hot, as it seeped into my bones.  (One thing that I didn't think about when I got the job on the food truck was, um, winter.  It's freaking cold on that truck.)

     So I'm standing on the Platform for the orange line towards Forest Hills.  This particular train/station is pretty well known for having at least one homeless man with a guitar wailing a Jesus-themed song (usually quite badly) at the top of his lungs.  And as I looked around with my glassy eyes, I saw a man...with a guitar...sitting and preparing to sing.  I anticipated the worst.

     ...and I received a gift.

     This man started playing the guitar, and some of the most beautiful music I've ever heard poured out of it.  His playing was technically good, but more than that, there was such emotion and soul coming out of his instrument.

     And all I could do was stand and watch him, and wait for my train.  And I'm sure that if I didn't have to get to the dentist, I would have missed the next one that came, on purpose just to listen to this man for longer.  The tension started pouring out of me, and I just stood.

     The rest of the day was not quite as stress-free as I would have liked it to be...but at the end of the day, that music, just for the few minutes that it was in my life, took a day that could have been all stress, and punctuated it with music.  It was beautiful, it was life-giving, and it was a perhaps not-so-subtle reminder that maybe I should ride the orange line more often...

Love, Bethy

There are times when I feel like my heart is literally going to explode out of my chest. There are times when something is so beautiful it hurts to breathe because I imagine that the tiniest change in the air would destroy everything. This feeling is from shedding pieces of myself - every person, every place, every experience. Some people get bigger parts of me, some get small ones...some return them back to owner. Living without a full heart hurts, yet I'm sure it hurts less than living a life never giving your heart to other people...other places...other experiences.

I can't imagine a life like that.