Keeping it Going

I haven't written in almost two weeks. I thought I should write something. Although this lacks the profundity of the majority of my entries, it is still keeping in line with my list. So write I must! Even if today it is only sentence fragments coupled with a big word or two, it is still an effort in continuity-keeping with what I have started. So yay me! :)

Another sleepless night

Last night I struggled against this wakeful world yet again. My eyelids were heavy with dreams they would never see. I laid awake listening to the insects humming their tune into the peaceful dark of the late night. The fight against my racing mind for the sleep that I craved was lost in the waning moonlight. My eyes begged my mind to stop, for even in that one moment of silence, sleep may have snuck in. But it didn't, and I laid awake. Instead of laying in frustration yet again, I started thinking about my future, with tomorrow seeming a faint light on the horizon, propelling me through the darkness of the perpetual night. I closed my eyes in hope this time, not desperation. My future flashed brightly in front of my eyes, the shadows dancing on my eyelids. And as my mind finally gave, I feel asleep into a dream already in progress.

Hot Chocolate and Mini Marshmallows

I've been on a sickness rollar coaster the last few days. At first, I thought it was allergies, but then developed into a cold. Today, I found some solace in a cup of hot chocolate. There was only one thing missing: mini marshmallows. I'm not quite sure what makes hot chocolate so much better with marshmallows, but it does. Perhaps it is just the added sugar, but I'm willing to sacrifice a few calories for a cup of peace. I had to settle for slightly less comfort today, due to my lack of mini marshmallows. I was so torn between the warm sugary sweetness coursing down my throat and straight into my bones it seemed, and yet something was missing: those white clouds of fluffy yummy comfort. Sometimes I feel this way in life: marshmallow-less in a hot chocolate world. Sure, hot chocolate is great. Everyday things are good, warm and delightful. But something about those mini marshmallows makes it oh-so-much better. I want to find those mini marshmallows in my life. I want to find those things that add exactly what I need, what I want to send something good into the the land of greatness. One day, I'm sure I'll find that, but until then, I guess I'll just enjoy my hot chocolate without marshmallows.

Shattered Expectations

So I'm having a rather clumsy day. The typical dropping things on the floor, running into the door frame, and tripping over a parking beam are evidence of this. Earlier, I had to look in someone else's desk drawer for something in the very back. Unfortunately, I expected the drawer to catch before it came ALL THE WAY out. It didn't. So there I am, in someone else's office, holding the now half empty drawer of office supplies, staring at paper clips, pens, and post its scattered on the floor. I bust out laughing, trying to clean up and make it look like I was never there at all, a rather hopeless venture in this sudden desk drawer/office supply fiasco I found myself in. As I was putting the drawer back on the rails, I was wondering why I expected it to catch. There was no thought, no planning, just expectation. And this time, it didn't work out that perfectly.

I'm not sure why we have the expectations we do. When shattered, sometimes it leads to hilarity, sometimes disappointments, sometimes pure heartbreak. But on certain momentous occasions, life provides far beyond expectations, far beyond planning, far beyond imagination. We could never have dreamed of, let alone expect those gifts, those hopes, those fully answered, yet unspoken, prayers. Those are the times your heart triumphs and your soul rejoices. I love those moments of awe, of pure bliss, of shattered expectations. So, I will keep hoping, keep expecting, because those times that go far beyond make it worth the times when an entire desk drawer ends up on the floor.

The Unknown

A lot of people are afraid of the unknown. Most of the time, I am too, to be perfectly honest. However, lately the unknown has been bringing me some great surprises. It almost makes me grateful I don't know what is coming. I'm kind of enjoying this aspect of ignorance. Even in the moments that bring upsetting unknowns, there has been an element of joy, or at least of satisfaction. It has given me the opportunity to show who I am, to stare down the world, and most importantly, to grow and learn. And sometimes that unknown turns out to be even better than what I had planned. So to all the unknowns out there, I say bring it on. I'm ready and waiting.

Kindred Spirits

Although I consider myself an optimist, sometimes this world really sucks. Things happen. People come and go in our lives, and not always the ones we want.

Yet, sometimes we meet people who become a part of us and seemed to have always been a part of us. I'm thankful for those people that will forever remain in my heart, regardless of whether they remain in my life or not. These kindred spirits are an amazing connection on a deeper level than we ever knew possible. They make our lives better and give us so much more than we can ever return, it seems. They teach us and learn from us, grow with us, hurt and cry with us, rejoice and laugh with us. These people know the real us, love us regardless, and bless us every day just by being there. Even though it is difficult to find these people, and even more difficult to let them go, I wouldn't trade it for anything in this world. And every day, I'm thankful for the ones I've met.

Paper Airplanes

I changed my cursor to something frivolous: a paper airplane. It reminds me of easier times when such joy and entertainment could be derived from something so simple as a piece of paper. Part of me misses those days, yet who is to say those days are gone?

I remember making paper airplanes as a kid and getting such a kick out of how far they would fly. Different designs would fly different ways, further, or faster. It was fun to figure out my favorite, to experiment. As we grow older, that childlike innocence is somehow lost or dissolved into daily routines. It is only because we let it. So, today, I decided to make a paper airplane. I flew it across the office, giggled as if I was still a child, and enjoyed the simplicity of that single piece of paper (after accidentally throwing it right into the wall). I forgot how great it is to see my creation succeed, watch it glide across the room, floating in space. It really didn't fly very long, as I have forgotten just how to make the PERFECT paper airplane. But it flew, and a piece of me soared with it, caught up in the reminiscence of my childhood, my long forgotten innocence. Even if it was only for a few seconds.