I have no excuses.
I have no thought provoking explanation that makes your head spin so you don’t ask questions. My plans have imploded, my world collapsed. I’m not trying to find a bandaid to keep things clean. I’m not going to tidy it up, I’m just going to be honest.
I told myself that I was done with Iowa, I viewed Iowa as the thing that chained me, but the cold and snow never hurt anyone. (Well … not intentionally.) I found myself praying about Iowa, and I realized that the things that I don’t like about Iowa are things that can change. I prayed for people who can change things.
A few days later a friend asked me about my plans, and my world crashed around me. (I now remember a speaker distinctly say that when you pray for God to send someone you have to be willing to go.) I asked him to send someone to Iowa … and I knew in that second that He has called me back to Iowa.
I am moving home in July.
Becoming another character.
I can no longer create only in the moments it feels right. I am learning to push through the desperate moments, and keep writing.
I’m going to become another character for time and dive into a girl who loses everything, including her life, and has to unleash the ferocity of a lion from within herself to continue living a life she doesn’t recognize.
I am fighting to become someone else. I am a writer of blogs, but this time away from Tumblr is proving that I am more. It’s creating the time that I need to work on my books.
escape
I’m standing in the trees. I blink.
I’m running through the trees. No one can follow me when I start running. This is where I have no strings pulling me to the earth. Gravity doesn’t exist to me anymore. I can run without tiring or worrying, and it helps me forget, unless I stop. I can’t stop, I have to run it all away, forget it all away. This is my only escape. I blink.
I’m standing in the trees. I smile. I remember running a mile or two and not collapsing in an asthmatic heap, but those days are gone, and I am left to imagine escape from the confines of damaged tendons and asthma. I blink.
I am running through the trees. Free from the voices calling for me, far from the obligations and polite conversations. I slow as I reach the spot I enjoy reading, but I’m not stopping, not today. Today, I want to go farther. I want to explore in the rain. I blink.
I’m standing in the trees. The rain splashes into my eyes and soaks through my clothes. I blink.
I spend so much time worrying about books, blogs, and not eating foods that I’m allergic to that my world is focused on my computer and fruits and vegetables. I rely on Facebook to keep in touch with people, and I have realized that is not enough. I would spend my time appreciating people, in person, with people.
Fires, flickering flashlights, and flimsy fabric walls.
Strange that camp can feel like home. No reason to fear failure unless you fall furlongs over the falls or forget to swim to the surface of the furious waves.
Flashing frivolous smiles forces others to smile. Frigid nightfalls push people to flock around roaring flames and guffaw at funnies.
Famished folks gather food and feast family style. Following trails forged by others.
Finding fields of flowers and slippery forces of nature. Forgetting fleeting thoughts for a few moments.
This is home, base, safe. Freedom from the fakeness of designer clothes and false lashes.
