crown of golden leaves

Sentimental: resulting from feelings or emotions rather than reason or thought; appealing to the emotions in an excessive way; having or expressing strong feelings of love, sadness, etc., in a way that may seem foolish or excessive.

I always thought of myself as a logical person, analytical, wise. "Don't play hooky from school with the boy you have a crush on because the trajectory of that path really isn't promising." "Don't go to where there's excess, where one needs alcohol and illicit substances either to drown their feelings or the courage to really express them." "Don't allow your imagination (your naivety, your good nature, your desires) to deceive you into missing the reality in front of you." Being intellectual provided me distance from emotions and feelings. Life taught me to look for truth and to value it more than any lie; ultimately a painful accurate perception is better than a "happy" deluded one. In other words, I always thought I lived a life not ruled by sentiment.

She will, she won't. She does, she don't. It doesn't matter; your happiness is not up to me. I accept that now. Our paths no longer intersect though they sometimes run near; on the line of time we were parallel but for the briefest of moments. I wish it had lasted longer than it did, I wish it had been more than the much it was for me. It's not greed, when you find a good thing, wanting more is to be expected.

In my reading for school there was a section in the text regarding family influences on child development. It touched on sibling relationships, youngest-middle-older children, and only children. What it said about only children made a lot of sense to me and one thing stood out in particular, "Only children...often enjoy a rich fantasy life as a result of isolation." I identify with that. I think I can be so analytical because I'm also so imaginative.

The things that pop into my head are so random but so detailed, they almost seem more real than real to me.

The light of Autumn is different than the light of Spring and Summer. It rains a symphony of color as light hits the leaves cascading softly upon the earth. Harvest dots the landscape and so the mentality of all who dwell here in our corner of the Midwest. We take stock of gains and losses as we prepare for the long winter. I am struck by the beauty of Fall, it won't go unnoticed. Geese form their V of timely depart. The earth rewards the farmers its bounty. The scent of burning leaves and bonfires marks the air, apple cider and pumpkin pie linger nostalgically on the tongue, layers of sweaters and scarves defend against the ever increasing chill. It is here, I live. Here where I adorn your head (short hair or long as if it mattered to me) with a crown of golden leaves. You that are the most alive and lasting of all things to me, such a contrast to the end Autumn brings. On a worn quilt under the shelter of a great tree, beams of sunlight illuminating every leaf, finally peace comes to these bodies in need of rest...

These are just thoughts, mere pondering, images existing only in the mind, no great effort on my part to conjure them but if they show anything its an extremely sentimental heart.

The definition says to be sentimental can mean having strong feelings of love that may seem foolish. It's the word seem that throws me. Are these feelings of love foolish or not? My analytical mind wants a final answer but my imaginative mind could care less.

inextinguishable

If hope was compared to a lit candle, I would say, "The light of mine still flickers."

Psalm 68 - The Glory of God in His Goodness to His People

⁵ A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows,
Is God in His holy habitation.
⁶ God sets the solitary in families;
He brings out those who are bound into prosperity;
But the rebellious dwell in a dry land.

the picture

I sometimes worry that my life is one breathe away from disaster. A fine and delicate balance is required just to keep many big important systems on the status quo; some days the stress it takes shows on my face, my dark eyes tell the whole tragic story. All-in-all I think I hide it pretty well. I'm a champion at keeping my mouth shut, I always have been. Nothing to brag about, nothing to be proud of - just the reality of the situation.

What is the connection between trust and truth? When you can't depend on the one's closest to you, how do you go on? When you learn that truth is to be unspoken and trust meaninglessly given, what do you do?

I can't bring a great family to the table of my relationships - do you know what I mean? Some people have great families that love them, full of trust and truth - but, at the core this is not mine. It just isn't. This is a negative when it comes to dating because eventually the talk of families comes into play and mine is such a source of disappointment and shame for me. I feel disloyal as I type these words out. How dare I be so... ... real...

There is something about sharing the truth that there is no trust between me and my closest family, that hurts almost more then the fact itself. When I say it out loud to another, I can't bear to see pity reflecting back at me. I desperately want to be real about the chasm that exists between me and family, but I also hate the risk that honesty requires.

I minimize the depths of my hurt, my unfortune, with cliches like "Others have it worse, be thankful" or "Everything happens for a reason," but the truth is I'm heartbroken. I think there are parts of my heart that are missing and will never be mended. Who would ever want to become part of my life with this huge mess - a mess I don't believe will be fixed here on this side of life? I don't want someone who thinks they can fix it (it's not up to anyone to do that!) but I want someone who can look at it in all its gore and love me all the more. I don't know if that even makes sense.

I should be joyous. Where I am at in my life, this place of actually working towards a legitimate personal/lifelong goal - I should be happy. Why can't I feel happy about my accomplishments and path trajectory? I realized recently it's because I am just waiting for the other shoe to drop in my life. The family shoe I don't know that is out there waiting to squash me like an insect. I never know what these family members are up to. What they've gotten themselves into and are letting rot till the stench overwhelms and suffocates me.

I have a picture in my mind. I don't know if its idyllic and impossible or noble and true. It a picture of a family - all the pieces present - mom, dad, child - it sits on a mantel in a house filled with love and trust, safety and respect. Everyone smiles in the picture without worry because they have what no amount of money can buy or secure. The picture on the mantel is just one of many that show pure peace. Manipulating and maneuvering, puzzling and guessing are not a factor. These are unheard of to the imagined people in the picture. For them the needs of us and we outweigh the needs of I or me. It's the picture you know. God make it be.

yellow so real it's fake-looking

It is one of those last lazy days of summer when autumn is gently waving hello to us. I love living in the Midwest. I've never really lived anywhere else and I don't regret that. How could you not love it here - driving by the swaying stalks of gold, riding on roads paved with falling color, accepted and expected change - it's everything.

Homework, study, break, read, snack, homework, study, sleep, shower, work... it's fall. So relieved I had classes during the summer or going back would be so much more difficult.

Well into my Mother-Baby/Pediatrics rotation. It's amazing. I am so relieved because I was so nervous, filled with trepidation. Needless trepidation - there's a catchphrase for me.

This afternoon I was looking at the flowers on the deck still blooming away. It was the marigold that captured me. So yellow it seemed artificial. I held this brilliant blooming living yellow in my hand and felt... content.

Matthew 5:5 (The Message)

"You're blessed when you're content with just who you are—no more, no less. That's the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can't be bought."

so full

There is a legion of things to do. Entertainment is never far. In the land of plenty there is plenty, plenty of food, water, a reasonable expectation of safety. Achievement and successes are fairly attainable, access to information and knowledge a click away.

The world is so full.

But all the access and excess is not enough.
What I long for is to lay upon on the soft earth,
wrapped in the arms of you who are yet faceless to me,
feeling the last beams of sunlight
as they disappear into the pink and purple horizon
Greeting the night stars,
the feel of your heart beating in my ear,
in rhythm with the fireflies dance
and the crickets chirp.
To be where nothing is artificial and time suspends but really begins.