A Curious Absence of Fear

There's a poem by Robert Burns titled "To a Mouse", which contains a famous line that in simple English translates to:

"But little Mouse, you are not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often askew,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,"

Fun fact: This poem is the inspiration for the John Steinbeck novel. Another fun fact: Robert Burns wrote the poem, "Auld Lang Syne" which is the basis for the sad song everyone sings on New Years'.

Now, I talk about this because I have a heck of a lot of events coming up. I'm starting senior year, prepping for that (hopefully!) hiking trip to Scotland, prepping for my Grad school applications and grad school itself, which would involve a massive uprooting of my life and moving somewhere out west... I'm on the brink of a massive life transition. Moving to Undergrad felt risky and unsafe and new... and now it feels like childs' play compared to what I need to do.

But here's the thing... if you know me, you know how much of a planner I am. I always play it safe, never take risks, according to my friend, I never jump without knowing I have a safe place to land. But with all of this? I'm not afraid. I'm not worried. It worries me how NOT worried I am. I just want to go out and do it!

I was talking to my friend, Nick, about this Scotland trip. He went when he was a freshman. After learning it's a 98 mile trek, I remember drowning in my own excitement, eagerness, or restlessness. I started looking up incredible hiking boots. :P I know 98 miles may be torture at times, but I WANT it. I CRAVE it. Years, maybe even as little as months ago, I would be worried and scared and timid... My anxiety would twist and turn all the cons into massive, insurmountable obstacles. Not this time.

See, I'm the equivalent of the mouse Robert Burns was referring to. I planned out my life to the point where everything was safe and accounted for. The plan was there, I just had to live it out. Well... they went askew. I did everything I possibly could, with as much diligence as I could, and I still watched part of my life fall apart in front of me.

A wise professor once told me (while I was crying in her office) that there is a certain freedom and relief in realizing that every life situation, even those that we take to be stable, has the chance of ending or suddenly falling apart. As someone who craves stability and plans everything, I hated it when she said that. But as I'm preparing for my future, and just trying to live it without knowing what the final product is going to look like, I can finally appreciate all the merit and truth in her words.

I don't have everything planned out. I have a strategy, but very few expectations of what it will look like, or sound like, or smell like, or taste like, when I'm in Scotland or Seattle. I'm just taking every day as it comes.

The last line of the poem? "And forward, though I cannot see. I guess and fear!" That's where I differ from Burn's narrator. I guess and hope and look forward to it all. Come what may.

Be well,

Megan

Seeing the Big Picture

I woke up to the sound of rain. Soon after, Alicia, one of the housemates, made a pot of amazing coffee and I sat here sipping while watching Game of Thrones.

I talk to Alicia often about when I move away. I'm studying for the GRE every day, and soon I'll kick researching graduate programs into high gear. I've probably mentioned it many times before, but I'll be looking for a program in Seattle, Portland, Denver, or San Francisco. It feels so weird to be in such an amazing place where I am--living in an amazing house, being surrounded by so many loving and supportive people, and loving what I'm studying. This place is truly home, but I know I'll be ready to move on to the next adventure--and I hope that includes a coast, seafood, and good coffee.

See, there's so much more to life than this place and this moment. If there's one big thing that I've been trying to internalize over the last few months, even with everything horrible that's happened, it's that situations change. Sometimes they get worse, and sometimes they get better. My life is now on the upswing and all the pain and sadness I've experienced is only temporary. It's gently fading and giving way to better things. The big picture is that there's more to life than romantic relationships. The big picture is that I have the skills and tools and support to go make it somewhere else. If I keep my nose to the grindstone, meaning I do well on the GRE, do my research, and line all my grad school ducks in a row, there's no reason why I won't be completely fine in Seattle. The big picture is that I'm finally starting to reap the rewards of all the hard work and dedication I've put into the last 7 years of my life.

By nature, I'm a planner. I focus on the future. That's not to say that I'm never affected by the past. Seriously, if I could change the content of my dreams right now, I would say that my life is approaching perfect. But I can still wake up and understand that a dream is a dream and that my reality is perfectly fine. Focusing on the future isn't an excuse to ignore the now. Today I am sitting and enjoying where I'm at. I'm surrounded by people I love and by people who love me. I started to brainstorm people who I'd like to celebrate my birthday with and the list is HUGE. I love that, and I'm so very grateful. I have time and resources to pursue my dreams. That's a wonderful big picture to be living in. The smaller little details are that I'm sitting here, listening to a Yellowcard playlist, sipping coffee. Today I'm going to continue decorating and organizing my room, and I'll probably do laundry. What an amazingly epic feeling--to love the little details and the big picture.

Be well. Be patient. Be loving. Be kind.

-Megan

Embracing Sunshine

Well friends, no anxious brain tonight, but certainly a racing heart. This week's combination of too little sleep, too much caffeine, and a few celebratory margaritas have all made it quite unhappy with me. No worries, it'll settle down once I get back into a routine.

So I'm sitting here, sipping peppermint tea and listening to I'd Run Away by The Jayhawks. The truth is though, there's no place I'd rather be than right here, right now. How funny to say that, since I would have given anything to not be me not long ago. Truth is, I feel like everything is falling into place.

My life is once again packed into boxes and over the course of the next week, I will move into The Burrow, our house for the next 12 months. Not only will I be living with three of the most energetic, genuine, and overall amazing people I've ever met, but I'll be surrounded by many incredible faces this summer. Many friends, including recent grads, are living close to me and plans for many happy ventures are already in place. If The Burrow is anything like my friend Rosina's house, it's going to be 12 months of crazy awesomeness. I'm looking forward to many nights in the backyard, blasting music, watching the sunset, and sipping more celebratory margaritas. My song of the summer is Ain't It Fun by Paramore. Look it up, but listen to it with the video--changes the connotation in my opinion.

Life has switched gears, but still feels 100% chaos and 100% relaxed contentment. It's officially summer, and the sun is making more and more of an appearance, even if the wind still keeps a chill. My finals are all done and forgotten and grades are trickling in. So far so good. I don't know what to say about this summer, other than I am overwhelmingly looking forward to all of it. I have so much time, but so many things to do. Soon I will start preparing for the GRE, hardcore researching graduate programs, and getting together with all those friends I mentioned. I also perfectly intend to curl up and watch some heavy amounts of Game of Thrones, Grey's Anatomy, House M.D., and Breaking Bad. Oh, and to convince you that I'm not just going to melt my brain on Netflix, I also plan to read exorbitant amounts of John Irving novels.

I am happy and content, but also cautious. Life has a terrible impermanence to it. This last week, I watched many friends graduate, which was all a bundle of sad, happy, nostalgic emotional everything. That will be me sooner than I think, but before then, I still have some crazy things to do. With luck, I'll go to Scotland (as I mentioned in the last post) but I'll also write and perform a lot of poetry, write a lot of non-fiction essays, play with rats, make some pottery, grade some psychology assignments, and go to a giant writing conference. If I get my ducks in a row, I'll also present at a conference in Illinois and work on more research-related things. After that, I'll graduate and move somewhere far away. Life is impermanent.

For now though, it's summer. And I am fully embracing the sun and the time... even though I might have to bring an umbrella to work today...

Peace and epicness,

-Megan

Embracing Rain

It's been a while since I've blogged. But tonight I have an anxious brain, so maybe this will help. And maybe I'll entertain someone who's also up later than they intended to be.

I hate rain. Lately though, my life feels like it has contained a lot of it--both literally and figuratively--and it might continue to do so. It feels like the last two months have been some of the worst and best of my life. I'm still healing. I would be being dishonest if I said I still wasn't experiencing a lot of hurt and sadness over my breakup with Nicole. I've always been someone who feels and loves intensely. I've had to learn a lot of things throughout this entire experience, some that I never wanted to, or never thought I would have to. There's a pretty sharp learning curve to suddenly going from being 1/2 of what you thought and hoped was a strong duo, to being single. It's been hard, but as a friend told me, the most important life lessons are both the hardest and easiest to learn.

There are definite silver linings, and some of that learning is easy and wonderful and new. There's something beautiful and redeeming in being so open and so vulnerable. I won't say there's beauty in being shattered. I was never shattered, even though I thought I was for a short time. I was just a bit bruised up. But even so, I am so happy and glad that I allowed my heart to be open, and if anything, it feels even more so now. I have never, ever regretted it. An open heart leaves you vulnerable to the worst that life can throw at you, but it also lets in the most amazing things--people, music, anything and everything incredible to experience. Lately I want to experience everything and connect with everyone. I want to form every thought and opinion straight from my own experiences. And, I want to jump into said experiences with openness. So far it has allowed me to connect with incredible people in ways I didn't let myself before. There's a weight and a great deal of meaning that comes with knowing that you are completely responsible and in control of your own life, and for me, that also comes with the incredible desire to be happy, content, and proud of who I am as a person and of how I connect with other people. Sticking with the honesty of this post, I do feel that way--more than ever before.

Back to the rain idea. There's a lot of built up desire and momentum in me, and there are a lot of dreams I not only want to chase, but want to actually catch. I feel drawn to Seattle for my grad work, even though I hate rain. I dunno, I just really want someplace big, and liberal, and full of amazing coffee and seafood. Oh, and an ocean. That sounds awfully nice as well. If Seattle doesn't happen, other possibilities include Portland, San Francisco, and Denver. I just need an adventure I think. I need hard work and late nights and city lights and to feel small and large at the same time.

More immediately, I am dead set on doing everything I can to go to Scotland in October. It's pretty much walking across Scotland for a week and sleeping at B&Bs. I just want that really long walk! I want to reach the end and be proud of that mental and physical accomplishment. I was told I would need a good pair of hiking boots and a high quality rain coat. Once again, I hate rain...or... hated rain. There are other things too--I kind of really want to take piano lessons on an impulse. I want to be on stage and act again, even if it's for a 10 minute scene. I want to have a psychology honors thesis next Spring. I want to hit the gym this summer. I want to present at MBLGTACC in Normal, Illinois in February. I want to say screw it and actually sing at a karaoke bar. And, maybe I want to drink a little too much one night while watching Golden Girls with incredible friends.

I want to live in a way that allows me to feel everything, but I don't want that to be a temporary desire I'm just feeling now as I'm 21 (soon to be 22). I want to live that way forever. I want to be open, accepting, and vulnerable to every heartache, every perfect song on the radio, every anxiety attack, and every moment of pure loving kindness.

I want to be able to embrace every single raindrop.

Live an epic life. I'm trying to.

-Megan

"I'm just fine here finding me."

By the way, that title comes from the song "Finding Me" by Vertical Horizon.

Reader, I just got done eating a plate full of Eggo chocolate chip waffles.  It reminded me of childhood and also of those times when my mom would dig out the actual waffle maker and make them from scratch.  That's been the entire week for me--throwbacks to childhood.  I drank 7up and ate popsicles yesterday.

I've spent the last few days struggling about what to write for this post.  Sure I could talk about what it feels like to be going back to campus in two days, but I won't. The only thing I'll say is this:  If last year felt like a timid dipping in of the toes into college life, then this year feels like a running plunge, complete with student activism and new opportunities.  Oh, and the water doesn't even feel cold. Instead, I'm going to talk about something else and something probably more broad.

Today marks the 3rd anniversary of the death of my aunt Mary, and I will always be thankful for her influence on my life, which shows itself now more than ever.  That's true with all the aunts on my dad's side.  I see distinct aspects of myself in each of them as I get older, but it comes not from intentional shaping on their part...

I don't exactly know how to phrase everything, but everyone needs the freedom to find their own way--that's not to undervalue good, strong guidance and influence, but that guidance should open doors to all sorts of life experiences instead of closing some off.  Maybe I'm naive in thinking that if people are not forced down a certain path and instead are left to their own devices, they will naturally gravitate towards choices that lead to their own brand of a happy and fulfilling life. 

I'm glad I feel like the latter is becoming more and more my reality. Certain influences are causing me to pursue happiness in my own way, not because they're consciously trying to, but because they're leading or have led by wonderful example and a sort of hands off approach.  You don't have to tell someone who to be, you just have to be someone they admire to make a difference in their life.

All of it has reinforced the idea in me that I'm going to be just fine if I'm allowed to live at my own pace and make my own decisions.

Peace, be well, be epic, and I'll probably be back to campus the next time you hear from me.

-Megan

"Do you believe that time heals all wounds?"

Dear Reader,  that title comes from one of my favorite songs by Skillet titled The Older I Get, and since it just popped into my head and this post will be mostly about time, I figured it was a good fit. So, I'm sipping a Sunkist pop while munching on cucumbers and ranch. My taste buds are happy and life is good. I can't remember the last time I had a Sunkist--I looked at the can and it says, "Celebrate 20 years of dreams"  I smiled at how fitting it seemed since I'm still adjusting to that whole "being 20" thing, and to my knowledge, have had an awful lot of dreams in that time. Still do.

Now to that whole "time" thing. I guess I've never really met anyone who was fully content with the pace at which time changes things.  Sure, hindsight is 20/20, and eventually we get to a point where we see distinct differences between who we are and who we were, but waiting to get there isn't always easy.

I used to hate the saying "Time heals all wounds." absolutely hate it.  I was much more in the camp of "Time forms a scab capable of being ripped open at any moment.  Then some pretty ugly scar tissue forms which is usually very painful in its own way."  I guess healing took place with both but "time heals all wounds"  seemed far too sugar coated and simplistic for the cynical little me.  Now that I'm older, I can understand the reasoning behind the phrase a little more.  It's just hard to wait for time to do its job, especially when no one will ever know how much time is necessary.

For the record, I still find the phrase a little too simplistic.  I think "time" has to be seen as an umbrella term in this case which encompasses a heck of a lot more than just the ticking of a clock.  Time needs a little bit of help sometimes, whether that's the right person showing up at the right time, a lucky break, an animal--anything.  Time exposes you to agents of change and agents of healing, and even though there might be a lot of pain involved in waiting for that healing, it will come.  And you'll be able to feel it when it finally does--even if it took a lot longer than you were hoping or expecting.

Be epic, be well, and enjoy the last few days of summer.

-Megan

Wanderlust

Good afternoon Reader, I hope you've had a nice Thursday so far.  I've always liked Thursdays--I spent about two hours almost every Thursday for 8 years as a martial arts student and assistant instructor.  I just think Thursdays are good in general.

I have worn the self-imposed mental label of malcontent for a very long time now.  I am not so sure I was right when I gave myself the label, but so far, this summer has involved long stretches of discontented solitude punctuated by periods of absolutely lovely chaos.  Ultmately, it will go down as the summer of travel and wanderlust. Wanderlust, by the way, is a strong, innate desire to rove or travel about. I've seen and understood the phenomenon in other people, but this is the first time I remember it being so tangible in myself.

I rarely travel.  I've been lucky enough to travel all over Minnesota, but my extended family is so centralized here that we have little reason to travel out of state other than for traveling's sake alone--which we never do. (Oh, and I actually despise living out of a suitcase, but have discovered it's a non-issue if you're with the right people.)  My recent adventures to Iowa for MBLGTACC '12 and all over the south for the National Youth Gathering coupled with the fact that I've been glued to the Olympics has sparked in me wanderlust like no other.  Not to mention that the National Youth Gathering will be in Detroit in 2015--I hope to go if I am able, and MBLGTACC '13 is in Lansing, Michigan.  I've been considering forming my second semester schedule in a way that makes it most convenient for me. :P

I leave in two days for another adventure, this time it's a week long semi-working vacation as I tag along to a camp in the northern part of North Dakota. I need to decide whether or not I want to work there next summer, and my parents have taken that as meaning I'd be moving out once and for all.  A very rational conclusion, but intimidating all the same.

All this recent pounding of pavement has served to define my traveling likes and dislikes.  I've decided I much prefer travel by road vs. air.  Planes are fun, but it's far too Point A and Point B for me.  It really negates that all-important line segment in the middle.  It cuts down on the potential of the journey. Plus I like to drive. :P When I think about it, the superficial demarcation lines on a map serve as a mental barrier.  To me, Louisiana  felt worlds and worlds away, but as I was on the roads, I realized that while I was seeing landscapes and cultures shift, I was never seeing any sort of severing of a connection.  There is no giant line in the sand separating us completely.  The only real barrier I now feel between me and anywhere else, is time.  I've heard it's a Midwestern thing to measure distance in time. I'm two and half hours from the Fargo-Moorhead area, The Twin Cities are about an hour away from where I live, etc.  I feel like the means to go somewhere is rarely what holds us back--the real problem involves time.  Give me enough time and I'll be able to get anywhere...  And I guess from now on I'll be trying to listen to the part of me asking for that time.

Wanderlust or not, this influx of travel has been epic and I hope it continues.

Be well and be lovely,

Megan