I haven't written here for awhile. My journal entries have taken the form of notes on my phone. But that's not exactly conducive to pouring my heart out. And yet, there are limits here too because I feel I cannot be completely free. Oh well, it's a balance anyways, right?
I'm a new-ish homeowner and I love my space. It's not big, it's not grand, but it's big enough and grand enough for me. It has a garage and it's close to work and I don't have to worry about rent rising or a landlord. Every day I wake up in awe that it's mine. I hope I never lose that feeling -- even when I have to leave this house behind someday. For whatever reason, I haven't felt like I'd be here that long... what exactly that means, I have no idea. It's hard for me to judge that when the longest I've ever lived in one house is three years. And even now i find myself wondering when I can go on the next adventure. But I think that's just a product of my growing up and me needing to learn how to "settle."
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A few weeks ago someone asked me what my perfect day would be. That's hard for me consider... I'm easily content and the main thing for me would to have an anxiety-free day. However, there are things I'd like to do and I told this person one of them... and then this past week, I unexpectedly got to do it. Paige invited me on one of her photoshoots and it was amazing. It was amazing to see someone do the "thing" they're meant to do. As much as I hate having my own photo taken, I've always been fascinated by photography... the ability to capture a fleeting moment and evoke a feeling feels my soul with hope. And we all know how much I love the concept of hope. ;) I came back from that shoot feeling inspired and renewed, and yes, full of hope.
I want to find my "thing." I feel like there are many things I'm good at, but nothing I'm particularly passionate about -- not even being a librarian, as much as I do enjoy it (most days...). I feel like I haven't quite found it yet... the thing that makes me happier than I've ever been. I don't mean this in a complaining or discontent sense, far from it actually. I have a very good life. And I'm extraordinarily blessed, but I feel like I haven't hit on my mission yet. And I want to, more than anything.
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The stars have always fascinated me. They make me feel more connected to God. And now, to my parents. Somehow when I see the stars, I feel like my parents are closer -- that they aren't "gone" or "lost" and that they haven't abandoned me. Someone (the same "someone" from above, actually) described the stars as a visual definition of eternity. In that moment, I didn't feel crazy for loving the stars. It felt like a confirmation of all the reasons I love them. And now, I really want to go stargazing.
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My little cousin was baptized yesterday. I was surprised at how strongly I felt the spirit. I cried a lot. Almost embarrassingly so because this cousin and I aren't particularly close and I debated extensively about even making the effort to go because I felt like it didn't even matter that I was there. And it probably didn't matter to him. But I realized that it did matter -- to me. And I realized that I feel the spirit a lot more than I realize because I had the same feeling at Paige's photoshoot and when I've travelled and when I go to the temple -- it all makes me feel the same.
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I still miss my little family horribly. I think I thought that there would be a day when I didn't miss them anymore and that would mean I'd moved on. But that's not true. I still miss them and long for them to be here... mostly because I've realized what great cheerleaders my parents were. They made me feel like I could do anything and like there was nothing wrong with me. And I love them for that. I've reached the point now where I don't pine for them and I don't feel bad for myself that they aren't here. The normal now is for them to NOT be here. And that's good. But I still miss them. But if I had to choose between having them here and having them together, I'd choose them together any day. And someday I'll get to see them again.
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I had to explain to someone (not the same "someone") about the way I walk and why I walk the way I do. It was cool to feel how Heavenly Father gave me the words, even if the person didn't take it well. I don't understand people sometimes. But in the eternal scheme of things, the way I walk is a minor (truly minor, even in the worldly perspective too) inconvenience. And the people that matter in my life don't and won't care. In fact, several people have told me lately that they don't even notice it. And the truth is, neither do I. It just is. It doesn't look TOO weird. It doesn't hurt. And it's kind of hard to miss something I've never had -- a normal gait. For whatever reason, the way I walk is the way I walk. The bleed was a necessary part of my journey and a necessary tool for my progression. And most of the time I feel like Heavenly Father is proud of the way I handle it. I hope the same can be said someday for my other trials. :)
Will there ever be a guy that sees me and understands me? My patriarchal blessing seems to think so. :) I've always wanted to get married. Not to be taken care of, but so that we could take care of each other. Lift each other up. Support one another. Be strong (temporally and spiritually) when the other is weak. Build a life together. And see the best in each other. I hope someday soon that happens. What a blessing and privilege to have a partner, no matter what the future brings. And then, we can dance in heaven. ;) And maybe here too.