"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