Monday, January 25, 2010

Just do it.

So I was thinkin I'd write another post
about my little developments
and my fat question marks about what they mean
but oh!
oh no.
i won't.

Let's talk about something else today.
Like how I'm in the Mac Lab makin my own websites.
No really I am.
Yeah, this is me.

Lets just say what comes out.
Here it goes.

I am on the ground.
I am on the ground.
I am always wondering what I need here.
I am always feeling the crest of the wave
up on my tip toes
neck stretched out
heart comes forth
And then
we come down.
Teal and blue we fall.
We rumble.
We swirl and stretch horizontal.
We show the shore how much we can touch.
We stretch ourselves thin on the inland.
And then
we retract
Back to the center.
Here in the deep, we mix with what you have never seen.
We converse with what we cannot describe
In a language not collectively spoken
but felt.
It feels like this: upward.
It feels like this: around.
It feels like this: movement.
I am here on the ground.
But I am more than what you see.
In my skinny ponytail and bookbag.
I am further.
I am hoping
to be sonorous.
For now, energy, oscillating.
They say through space and time we are oscillating.

Sometimes my heart comes out in one word lines.
Over and over and over.
This is where I am today.
And apparently, that is what I have to say.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Oh world!

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I just want to love!
I just want to say that and not hear all the mocking inside me.
All the voices that say:
"Oh Lyndsi Shae, that's cute. You want to love, huh? You and your naive little double-name want to 'show the world who you are'... quaint, really."
"No one wants to listen to your hippie be-my-friend crap anymore. You are weird."
"They don't need your love. In fact, you need to love much more than any of them need to receive it. You will never be satisfied. You will be alone."


I'ma love everyone ANYWAYS.
That's why I'm here.
God wants me to stretch out my heart.
So there.

I don't know what I'm doing with my life.
Because everyone names their major and their boyfriend and their hometown.
As if that means they know what they're doing.
I can do that too.
English. Ben. Mooresville, North Carolina.

I can even elaborate!
[shpeal about how I have to be a writer for my soul.]
[story of how we were friends for a long time 
and then complication 
and now, sometimes, even more complication]
Mooresville, North Carolina.
[list of good southern food 
and memories of lake jumpin and grass rollin and sometimes
i will even tell you
about the hard parts.]
I can go on about my categories, but I still don't know what I'm doing.

No one really knows what they're doing.

Here's the good news:
I have new categories too. Categories that feel unique to me, 
like they are happening specifically to my life. On purpose.

*I love Native American literature, and I even know things about it. I read the books. I feel their spirit.
*I'm learning sign language. That's right, I'm speakin to you with my hands right now from this computer, and you don't even know what I'm sayin. Because it's symbolic, it's physical. I can't quite write it for you. And some days, I'd rather show you my heart with my hands than use my voice or write it on paper. I would rather sign, signify, embody my words.

*I sing gospel. I don't know anything about this music, or really about music at all, but I'm doing it and it MAKES ME JOYFUL. This is no exaggeration, I'm talkin about feeling a straight-up zeal for life.
*I have a calling in my church that asks me to love even bigger and with more endurance than I have ever loved before, and it is changing my life. 
*I wake up early. I can be bold and smart about my time. I will not fall into sinking patterns of apathy or mediocrity. I will find the higher ground of my potential. Take that.

These are not fleeting whims of my 20's. Some of them will stop, and that's ok. But the point is, they are REAL. I am finding out who I am through these avenues, and I want to keep them always. They are that much a part of me already.

Monday, January 4, 2010

A false sum of the parts.

re⋅frain [ri-freyn] 

a phrase or verse recurring at intervals in a song or poem, esp. at the end of each stanza;
to abstain from an impulse to say or do something.

. . .

Facebook asked me what was on my mind today. I had 3 answers.

Lyndsi Shae...

* doesn't know why she's beginning every morning with a computer class. Gross. Gross. Gross.
* is cold and grey today.
* wants to choose something drastic and reckless.
. . .

Because I want to get out of the grey.
Because I am feeling something that shakes up my world,
something which is not manifest through my groggy-walk-to-school.
or anything else I will do today.
But I feel its weight regardless,
and I want it to SHOW.

Today I told facebook this quote was on my mind,
It's from Henry Van Dyke, but Kaylie showed it to me.

"Time is too slow for those who WAIT, 
too swift for those who FEAR, 
too long for those who GRIEVE, 
too short for those who REJOICE, 
but for those who LOVE, 
time is eternity."

Remember the thing that is shaking up my world?
 It's loving.
It's a complicated loving.
And when this kind of love causes
the waiting, the fearing, the grieving, and the rejoicing...
time passes with conflict, contradiction, and confusion.
That's the problem.

I want to BE this love I'm feeling. 
I want to create from it, for it.

But I can't today.
It's a long story.

In the mean time, what can I do instead?

Because if I continue to do nothing,
if I keep all this loving without knowing how to move forward,
I may combust. 
Choices I've considered so far...
Painting something as tall as me. Driving to the ocean. Plane ticket to New Zealand. Taking a lap around the block with no pants and loud yelling. Getting Married. Going to live with Katie. Getting Married to Katie. All New Clothes. Just screaming about stuff. Running running running up the mountain. Pilgrimage to ______. Dying my hair something ugly. Ripping stacks and stacks of paper. Swimming across shallow, freezin Utah Lake. Meeting 50 new people.
Nothing is enough.
Because these choices stem from a restlessness,
from the side-effects of waiting, fearing, grieving, and rejoicing.
And I don't want to act on those.
I want to act on their origin, on the loving.

But I can't right now.
It's still a long story.

Instead I will go grocery shopping and to the bank. I will add/drop classes and write 3 letters and getmyharddrivebackedupandmycellphoneupdatedandpaymyrentandandbuymybooksandunpackmyluggageand
makesomedinnerandtellbrooklynwhathappenedandprintoutasyllabusandtakeanothershowerandexcerise and
against what could otherwise keep me 
solitary and confined on this blanket 
for the rest of the day.

I will fight the sinking of stagnant water, the aching refrain of stillness and indecision.

In the mean time, I am ticking.
Ticking towards the day when this refrain from action,
this repetition of the unknown,
is resolved.
I hear it even now,
a ticking too slow
too swift
too long
and too short.
Can you feel it?
When time passes inside of loving,
it ticks with the weight of eternity.