012111 -- Regrets
Jan. 21st, 2011 05:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
memorialrainbowHave you ever had a regret?
I have many.
Of course, I have regrets that are more outstanding in my mind than others. And I do have a 'biggest regret.' It's something I'll never forget, and it's something I think about quite often. Could I go back and fix things to the way they need to be, in my mind? Could I rewind time? I know I can't. But I could stop everything I'm doing and go back, completely break who I am now.
But I'm not so sure that would be possible. To explain that, I have to explain the changes I've gone through.
When I first went to school, to university, my dream was to get out of here, to find my way, to dream big. Instead of doing that, I ended up doing the exact opposite. I don't regret it at all; in fact, I'm glad I had the ability to give so much of myself during my four years at Miami. But in doing so, I also lost an important part of me: myself. Which is why it was so hard for me when I graduated -- I had worked so hard, accomplished so much, and I was back home, kicked out of my house, forced to find a job so that I could survive. I felt an extreme sense of failure. If I was so talented, so wonderful, then why was I back home after graduation? Why hadn't I found my way out?
Now I understand why I had to come back home.
My boyfriend hates Miami. Hates out school. And I thought he was crazy for a long time. Miami was a place where I had made so many memories. I knew so many people. But it was also a place where I denied myself to serve others. I played my recital and then went...now what? I had eighteen days to just be myself, without having to jump through hoops. And it was then that God sent a miracle to make me realize what I had been doing for four years. Not that my service was bad -- in fact, I believe God wanted me to spend my time at Miami serving. But it was time for me to stop serving and to find myself.
That's the thing with my hometown. I remember having a good spring in my hometown, apart from finals and non-sleep and death. Winter is not something to be avoided. I can look out my window in my apartment and not see more suburbia, but other houses and the sign to the Motomart. I can hang out in my apartment and watch television all day and have an opinion and not be yelled at for it. I can color with crayons and keep my Christmas tree up and buy books for little kids and go to the movies. I can buy dollar bags and paint and knit and cut up fabrics and sleep in and not feel like I've completely wasted my day. And I have no regrets for it.
I regret how I've treated people in the past. I regret how I still treat people. But I think that's part of what makes me an artist. Unlike others, I'm completely fine with not being perfect. I can draw upon that as inspiration. When I mess up, I weave on it, and others learn of my experiences.
I re-met up with someone very important to me this past summer. Circumstances had brought me to this person's hometown, but they weren't home when I arrived. It was so weird, because the town just didn't seem the same without him. Only after I finally got a hold of him did things finally seem the same. We hung out for the night and talked, and he made me realize that in order to go on in life, you can't go back. You can only go forward.
When I look behind me, I see all the regrets I've accrued up to this point. When I look forward, though, I see a wonderful life, an amazing apartment, a boyfriend who is just a blessing, and a future that is as wide and expanseless as the stars. And it's then that I remember that this life is so much better than my mind makes it out to be. On the days where I sleep in, at the times where I feel lonely and tired and frustrated, I reach into myself and pull out that thread of hope, that delicate quarter built into me, and realize what life is TRULY all about.
It reminds me of Cure Moonlight. To put it simply for those of you who haven't seen it, Cure Moonlight is a superhero who has a sidekick in her mascot, named Cologne. In a fight gone horribly wrong, Cologne sacrifices himself to save Moonlight, and she stops fighting, hiding away as her civilian disguise. It is only when her new friends make her realize how important everything is, and that she must keep fighting, that she truly returns to who she really is -- not so much her civilian form, but Cure Moonlight. Sure, I'm not a superhero, but I can take lessons from that.
I want to make things right. I want to be honest, instead of running away. And I am learning how to do just that. But I am not perfect, and these things take time. I think that's part of what Almond Dust is about...that should be saved for another day.
On a completely unrelated note, I can't wait until Kings Island opens :) :) :)
I have many.
Of course, I have regrets that are more outstanding in my mind than others. And I do have a 'biggest regret.' It's something I'll never forget, and it's something I think about quite often. Could I go back and fix things to the way they need to be, in my mind? Could I rewind time? I know I can't. But I could stop everything I'm doing and go back, completely break who I am now.
But I'm not so sure that would be possible. To explain that, I have to explain the changes I've gone through.
When I first went to school, to university, my dream was to get out of here, to find my way, to dream big. Instead of doing that, I ended up doing the exact opposite. I don't regret it at all; in fact, I'm glad I had the ability to give so much of myself during my four years at Miami. But in doing so, I also lost an important part of me: myself. Which is why it was so hard for me when I graduated -- I had worked so hard, accomplished so much, and I was back home, kicked out of my house, forced to find a job so that I could survive. I felt an extreme sense of failure. If I was so talented, so wonderful, then why was I back home after graduation? Why hadn't I found my way out?
Now I understand why I had to come back home.
My boyfriend hates Miami. Hates out school. And I thought he was crazy for a long time. Miami was a place where I had made so many memories. I knew so many people. But it was also a place where I denied myself to serve others. I played my recital and then went...now what? I had eighteen days to just be myself, without having to jump through hoops. And it was then that God sent a miracle to make me realize what I had been doing for four years. Not that my service was bad -- in fact, I believe God wanted me to spend my time at Miami serving. But it was time for me to stop serving and to find myself.
That's the thing with my hometown. I remember having a good spring in my hometown, apart from finals and non-sleep and death. Winter is not something to be avoided. I can look out my window in my apartment and not see more suburbia, but other houses and the sign to the Motomart. I can hang out in my apartment and watch television all day and have an opinion and not be yelled at for it. I can color with crayons and keep my Christmas tree up and buy books for little kids and go to the movies. I can buy dollar bags and paint and knit and cut up fabrics and sleep in and not feel like I've completely wasted my day. And I have no regrets for it.
I regret how I've treated people in the past. I regret how I still treat people. But I think that's part of what makes me an artist. Unlike others, I'm completely fine with not being perfect. I can draw upon that as inspiration. When I mess up, I weave on it, and others learn of my experiences.
I re-met up with someone very important to me this past summer. Circumstances had brought me to this person's hometown, but they weren't home when I arrived. It was so weird, because the town just didn't seem the same without him. Only after I finally got a hold of him did things finally seem the same. We hung out for the night and talked, and he made me realize that in order to go on in life, you can't go back. You can only go forward.
When I look behind me, I see all the regrets I've accrued up to this point. When I look forward, though, I see a wonderful life, an amazing apartment, a boyfriend who is just a blessing, and a future that is as wide and expanseless as the stars. And it's then that I remember that this life is so much better than my mind makes it out to be. On the days where I sleep in, at the times where I feel lonely and tired and frustrated, I reach into myself and pull out that thread of hope, that delicate quarter built into me, and realize what life is TRULY all about.
It reminds me of Cure Moonlight. To put it simply for those of you who haven't seen it, Cure Moonlight is a superhero who has a sidekick in her mascot, named Cologne. In a fight gone horribly wrong, Cologne sacrifices himself to save Moonlight, and she stops fighting, hiding away as her civilian disguise. It is only when her new friends make her realize how important everything is, and that she must keep fighting, that she truly returns to who she really is -- not so much her civilian form, but Cure Moonlight. Sure, I'm not a superhero, but I can take lessons from that.
I want to make things right. I want to be honest, instead of running away. And I am learning how to do just that. But I am not perfect, and these things take time. I think that's part of what Almond Dust is about...that should be saved for another day.
On a completely unrelated note, I can't wait until Kings Island opens :) :) :)
