Sadly I will not be telling
you just yet what the name of this post means, but it is a pretty important
part to why I feel like writing at 3am on a Monday night. Sometimes writing
brings a pinch of logic to my innately restless mind. In light of everyone making
their resolutions for the year, I have resolved to not make any. I hope you see
the irony in that because I giggled to myself writing it. Instead of thinking
about what I will be doing differently this year compared to 2011, just how
much my life has changed in the past year is on my mind. One year ago today I
was in a long-term relationship, half way through my freshman year of college,
forcefully comfortable and fearful of what was to come. I wanted out of my long
relationship for a while deep inside, but was too afraid of change to even be
honest enough with myself to get out of the relationship. One year ago today, I
was unknowingly waist-high in one of the biggest changes I may ever go through,
the transformation into a lover of change.
This morning when I woke up,
or this afternoon I sadly admit, I sat on the phone with my good friend from
school Annabelle for about 45 minutes. She loves when I mention her on here. We
talked a little about our break so far, and a little more about different this
next semester will be from the one that just ended. I will have a little less
of an academic load comparatively, she is less than a month out of a ten-month
relationship, and some of our friends have returned from taking time abroad. It
took me until about half-way through the day (around dinnertime for me, gross)
to realize what I said to Annabelle this morning of significance in relation to
change in my life. “Yes, this semester will be different, but I love change.”
I have come to strangely
love the success of sticking out a change, and the benefits of being
uncomfortable. Just walking by an outdoor store in the mall makes me want to
grab my backpack, throw on some layers, and adventure somewhere unfamiliar. I
no longer fear change, but instead crave it. Somehow learning to live in the
moment, without looking too far ahead at all, slightly satisfies this odd
desire for the unfamiliar.
This is on my mind tonight
because I am leading a double life, but not in the way you may be thinking.
Each life knows of the other, and they both have shaped me an incredible amount
into the one person that I am, and still becoming, but my lives will never meet
each other face to face. Pieces intertwine, but the wholes of the lives stay
separate with those pieces reaching across many miles lightly overlapping. My
friends in Santa Barbara have heard the many stories of my wonderful friends I
have grown up with, and all of our adventures. The opposite is also true of my
friends I have grown up with. Although my environment, and the people that fill
it, change so often, I have thankfully learned how to keep my identity in that
transition. However, as the days draw to a close for the three-week stretch of the
school year I spend in Seattle, I can’t help but feel a raw mixture of
emotions. Often people use that phrase when they don’t want to be honest with
themselves about one side of their mixture, but I truly feel both excited for
the upcoming semester, and slightly saddened to again leave the people I love
so much here for another jaunt of time.
The only reason I feel this
mixture is because of the summer I spent here in Seattle. My mother demanded I
return to Seattle for the summer after my first year of college; however I felt
so strongly I had left it for good that I almost broke her heart for a summer
in Santa Barbara. I had an apartment in mind in Santa Barbara with my friends,
and would have had no trouble finding a restaurant job for the summer. Both the
fear of hurting my family and the sheer stupidity of passing up a job in
Seattle I knew I had, and free living at home, led me to Seattle for the best
summer of my life. Nothing was planned, except for my backpacking trip and
family vacation, and every day was overflowing with surprises. I knew my work
schedule week to week, but I knew nothing of each day as it began. Spare hours
were filled with some hikes, a great boy, and relaxing time with friends. If I had not been required to return this past summer, I would have never truly returned and made new roots in California.
Reflecting on just how
content I felt all summer reminds me how important not fearing in thinking of
tomorrow is. Live in today alone. On Saturday I will again leave my wonderful
life here in Seattle, in exchange for a few more months of another incredible
life in one of the coolest cities in the US. I must be thankful for each day in
both of my lives, and take the lessons between the two. The only way I do not
feel more sad than excited for the repeated transition is when I remind myself
to live in today. Tomorrow will come, and I have never ended a day wishing the
day never happened. Thankful does not suffice to describe my emotions towards
every day I spend in Seattle with these precious people, and exactly the same
is true for my exciting, difficult, and spontaneous college life in Santa
Barbara.
Life is too short to hold
back. Take on each day seizing every opportunity, not worrying about tomorrow. Pray
when you feel like you should, say yes leaning on intuition, and be honest with
yourself. Also, don’t make my recurring mistake; take more pictures to look
back on.
