Quinoa

I sit here drinking my "relaxation" herbal tea that I bought when I was a stress case a couple months ago. Dude, I can't tell you how many posts I've started but haven't finished, that still lie unpublished in the list of my posts. Actually, I can tell you. It's about three. Which isn't a lot. And it also tells you that for someone who likes writing, it's hardly anything at all.

I realized that I can't just be perfect at writing. I can't produce perfect pieces. Heck, I can't always produce even good pieces. The point is to just write. Do it. Get it done. And then some day I may be decent at it.

So that's what this post is. It's a piece of writing that needs to happen to get me going again. And it's not going to be good. It's just going to be something.

For the sake of filling more white with words, I'll say that I've sort of changed my whole lifestyle over the past month. I don't eat refined sugar or flour anymore, and I mostly eat plants. I LOVE ICE CREAM and all sorts of other sugary food-like substances so this has been no walk in the park for me. But the other day, I ate a quinoa dish that I made on a whim, and it was incredible. I felt like I'd eaten pasta. And bread. And cookies. And I realized that I don't NEED all that stuff. God has made so many beautiful plants and things that grow and it's all meant to fuel our bodies and keep us alive. And they happen to be delicious. So how lucky are we?!

I also made a smoothie one time with avocado in it and it was so creamy.

Happy Sunday.

To Alessia Love at 17 Years Old

On this the first day of spring, I am a fresh 18-year-old of only nine days. And let me tell you, it's okay.

Before my big day, however, I was so afraid to become a a legal adult, a change made by the difference of only one year. Would I lose my memories of otter pops and Mario Party 4? Would I immediately transform into someone even more boring than I already am? Would everyone see me in a new light--a color that didn't match my yellow and pink love of Disney songs, interpretive dancing, and always clinging to my mother's side? (I don't really like yellow, but it seemed to fit and my favorite color is pink.)

Such were the questions that subconsciously buzzed around my brain during the time leading up to March 11, 2016. A nervousness spread down through my body and had me closing my eyes or scrambling to the backseat of the car that would inevitably take me to adulthood. I wanted to stay safe and guarded and warm and cocooned. I wanted to live back in the time where school meant singing songs, chasing boys on the playground, and sitting on a rug. Where it meant learning about shapes and sizes and colors, but not about when those applied to people. Not yet. All the prejudice and injustice and inequality in the world had not yet entered into my realm of understanding, so it didn't have the power to make me sad. And I wanted to keep playing and jumping on couches. I wanted to never feel bad about myself again.

It's silly, I know. I get that now. It's silly to wish for something in the past because the present is most important, and the future is going to come, so I should prepare for it.

Besides. The car keeps going, and that's something I ought to be grateful for.

Other questions come up, and they happen to be real. Will I suddenly be thrust into a world where my mom can no longer speak for me over the phone? Will I be able and responsible to vote? Will I be moving out soon, away from the ever-present arms of my parents? Will I be left to my own devices in a new place?

The list goes on, and then I realize how blessed I am. Why be afraid of something so beautiful as growing in knowledge, wisdom, and growing closer to my loved ones and closer to Christ? Even though "eighteen" has a ring to it that's still a little bit weird and new, it's certainly not the dreadful, scary terrain I'd imagined it to be. It's pretty. And I am happy about it.

Process

con·fer
verb

1. have discussions; exchange opinions.

stud·y
noun

1. a detailed investigation and analysis of a subject or situation.

wor·ry
verb

    give way to anxiety or unease; allow one's mind to dwell on difficulty or troubles.

pray
verb

1. 
   
2. 
   
3. 
   

    address a solemn request or expression of thanks to a deity or other object of worship.

pon·der
verb

1. think about (something) carefully, especially before making a decision or reaching a conclusion.

strug·gle
verb

     strive to achieve or attain something in the face of difficulty or resistance.

And then after all that, I think it did it.

de·ci·sion
noun

1. a conclusion or resolution reached after consideration.

1. 
   

Evergreens

Inspired by William Wordsworth's "Daffodils" and Percy Bysshe Shelley's "Love's Philosophy."

I sit and watch the evergreens

That stand as still as fallen snow.

And even when the winter seems

To steal the colors as it goes,

Those trees don’t ever change at all.

They’re green and strong and always tall.

When breath comes as a cloud of mist,

And dewdrops stick to trunks and freeze,

And all the world by snow is kissed

I see things change, except those trees.

I ponder how the world won’t stop

Despite my wish to not grow up.

Now spring makes way and melts the frost,

And evergreens don’t cease to thrive.

No needle from a branch is lost,

But how the stream is come alive.

I notice how the stream goes on

And see I, too, must move along.

I cannot be an evergreen

No matter what I do or try.

I am a flowing summer stream

And growing older ‘til I die.

For now I’ll find peace in the trees

That stay, unchanging, in the breeze.