Let them hope again. Make a world they can get lost in…
The Backstory…
“When I was young there was a certain time of year when we knew spring was coming. We knew Georgia would lie to us at least 3 times and the groundhog (where did that tradition come from anyways) once and then we’d be basking in yellow snow for the next few months. I think we’ve past the second lie now. I hear the birds and I imagine spring means freedom where so many things have lay dormant for cold months and now get to share the fruits of their patience. Everyone gets to start anew. Once seemingly dead things come alive. And in my head I imagine girls in white skipping through the grass laughing - braiding dandelion crowns and giggling at how the wind tickles their ears. I’m seeing this scene, but from above. I feel like a baby who doesn't want to put her feet on the ground. Something so beautiful exists, yet I don't take part. I think in a lot of things I don't want to give my all- not in a lazy sense but more in a self preservation way. I see myself in a dark cloud hovering over the springtime and choosing to watch. I thought about being an author, an artist and how that's so much work. Teaching seems easier to me. It's a good job. It helps people but I don't have to be as creative. Which is a lie cause teachers are some of the greatest artists in the world. I'm an artist, a creator, a writer, a speaker, a proser and a poet. This spring i hope to ground myself and come up it by bit open myself to the world and share with others. Give a bit of that yellow snow to a soul needing to make some sweetness. Make new seeds with someone else. Spring is communal. It’s creative. It's a whole lot of new. Here goes something~~~”
March 26, 2023 19:50
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wrote this over a year ago as I in Georgia. I wanted the things that were familiar - from my literal family to the pine trees. I wanted to see my siblings grow and not be surpised when I came home at how almost EVERYONE is taller than me minus my little sister. I wanted comfort. I wanted to laugh with the southenr winds in my lungs. I wanted to smell jasmine and hear the carolina chickadees. I wanted what I didn’t have in my grasp. I think all of these things have their space but I think there’s immense value in growing where one is planted. I’m here for a reason. I’m here for a season - no matter how long and gratefully surrounded by lots of light and love.
Sooo now it’s summer time. I say that because it’s 80 degrees outside at the end of October and 80 means summer to me. And something that’s planted in me no matter where I exist is a love and longing to write. It’s something God has placed in me that I’ve run from. But now I am attempting for the greatest teacher who ever lived to show me the way He wants me to create. So welcome :). My first blog came out of a nonviolent threat from a close friend to take two items very precious to me and this blog ends on the same fate (thank God for accountability). So here I am-imperfect, learning, leaning, and writing. I hope that this garden of imperfect discoveries will grow good fruit. I hope I’ll find the inner creative, a part that realizes us as God’s image bearers. May we see the Great Creator in all of us. May we not run from but into His precious voice and steady arms. Amen.
October 31, 2024 20:50