White Birch

If today is not a White Birch kind of day, then I know nothing of what is.

It's music for a rainy day.
but when the rain is freezing.
so it's become snow.

Snow and Scales

I live in a little room. in a little house. in a little town.
Snow fell from the sky for the second time since moving here four months ago. This time successfully creating a white blanket, a clean canvas to paint some thoughts over.

I am.
nobody's wife. nor girl... and that is okay. And one day, it will even be good.
I am.
wrestling with what is important

.Some things that aren't making the list:
- what I wear, or, how I look
- school and degrees//Money
- Happiness and Easiness and Comfort
- Anything past this day, this moment.
- Deadlines, Dates, Rushing

I keep changing. Where I live and who I know keeps changing. What I believe and how I act upon it keeps changing. My emotions keeps changing.

Change keeps your spirit from drying up. Change keeps you growing, Keeps pushing you into uncomfortable shapes so that you learn and become a further prepared instrument.

If I am The Lord's instrument, what do I sound like? Am I a brass, string, woodwind, percussion? Brought to His lips or held in a firm grip? Soft and melodic? Deep and earthy?

At any rate, I am valuable because I am one of them, and my scales are uniquely known.
and my scales are uniquely known.

The sadness

This sadness is not a wild crashing wave. It does not ebb nor flow to beat its heinous fists on my face and back til I finally fall.

No.

It is slow and steady and constant. So slight that I barely notice it rising until it is expanding in my lungs and then it finds its way out and down my face.

There is a certain person who I miss everyday. and everyday I try to be around people. but at some point I am alone. and that is when I notice The sadness has come.

What I mean to say is that it just seems like The sadness must prove something. Because it is so rare that I find myself this overcome by an emotion so pure to be one substance, a water, a sadness felt from loving someone so darkly and deeply and ignorantly and not being able to be with them at any capacity.



Are we meant to be with some people?
Is love a choice we make or that is made for us?
What do you let lead you: Your head or that heart?



This is a painting (by Ran Ortner)

Hope

There are some things, events, articles, spectacles, people that fall into your life from The Vastness That Is that give you so much hope.

so
much
hope.

be thankful for them



What has given you hope the past few days?

Past Lives

A while ago I had a discussion with a dear friend on past lives.

Now, past lives are the sort of thing I chuck into the astrology/karma/ouija board/Fantasy Fiction Novels kinda drawer, all of which are sort of fun in their own way but are indeed completecrap.

But I guess if I had to be some peoples in my past lives here are my guesses:

King Arthur... no explanation here.



Emily Dickinson... this used to be Helen Keller, but I think I've graduated Helen and have moved onto Emily. The idea was that I am uh...chaste...and awkward...and a girl. Plus, Emily has this wild side and understands how going to church isn't always as great as going into nature and letting the sky be your steeple. Yeah? no? At any rate, I've been (un)known to write down a few poems and dillies myself, so there ya go.

not her:


but her:



I imagine she is saying: Oooooh! Would you look at this flower! I feel like quite the lady!


Finally, my last guess would be Luna Lovegood.
Oh wait...
Guess HP got mixed in... Definitely need to clean out that makebelieve junk drawer.
Anyway, here she is in all her SpaceCadet glory:


I imagine she is saying: ...oh wait, Who am I? I thought the camera might have been over there? Yea, I couldn't find any clean pants, do you think my dad will notice I borrowed his?


I also like that everyone gets to be someone famous in a past life. I mean, no one is ever Thomas Filbrown who did nothing, nothing really at all. He ran for mayor and lost, and he died in his sleep. I have a feeling in a past life Thomas Filbrown was someone really great though, someone famous even! Like... Abraham Lincoln:




Who were you in a past life?

I feel...

Like this

yuck.


How do you feel today?

Wesley

When I was a child, and by a child I mean in 7th grade, I had a really wonderfully imaginative best friend.

The two of us didn't really do much except for sit around and dream up the most magnificent futures full of garden parties, beautiful old houses in exotic locations, and the two best friends,James and Wesley

, who were going to fulfill the boyfriendly aspects of said lives.

Yes, we created imaginary boyfriends.

I am not embarrassed
{except for quite a bit, I really am}

Now that the facts are in the open:

Wesley is
mostly Holden Caulfield with a little less mental illness and a little more hopelessly in love with me.
He is a genius and doesn't know how to handle it, causing him to be socially awkward.
He can play the guitar like a mf riot
He looks slightly reminiscent of James Mcavoy
He is secretly hilarious
He wants to live anywhere but the U.S.

One time I was in an airport and over the intercom a lady announced, "Would Wesley and James please come to the desk located at gate 32D." My heart stopped. I wanted to drop everything and run as fast as I could to the desk located at gate 32D. But I couldn't because I had a plane to catch. Don't we all?

For me, that plane is N.
N. is my {real life} boyfriend. He is not Wesley, but he is everything I need. He is not particularly mysterious or hilarious or a genius, but he is truly, really, very much so what I need in this life. He has other-worldly wisdom, kindness and gentleness unmatched, the best and most sincere laugh, and a deep sense of humility.


Life never turns out the way you dreamed it might, but I don't think that is any good reason to quit dreaming. While part of me will always have a spot for Wesley, I'm glad he isn't real. N. is reality and it is good.


Now, I stumbled upon the picture this post starts off with. I saw it and just stared. That is him, that is Wesley.

Hello Wesley,

What we had was really magical. But I had this plane to catch and it's
taking me somewhere, to home. To a place I was created for, but have never
been before.
Please take care and send my love to James.

All the Best,
M.


What is a plane you had to catch? Or rather, what is a dream you moved past to experience good reality?