And Now to Write

                In high school, I took summer classes every year.   One summer, I took creative writing.   A week ago, I stumbled upon the journal I kept for that class.   I don’t remember what the majority of prompts were, so that makes some of the entries really interesting.   Here’s a line from one of them: “When you tiptoe through the Valley of Happiness, you might find panda bears playing ‘Streetcorner Symphony’ on banjos."                                                          Imagine being the teacher reading a series of 25 sentences like this one, multiplied by however many of us were taking that class at the time.   N ot all of the things I wrote were that strange, though.  My first entry was a reflection on...

This is the shirt. And yes, I have troubles knowing how to pose for photos. Back in high school, I went on mission trips with a group of teens from my parish.  Every Workcamp, we got a t-shirt with the week's theme on it.  I have developed quite the collection: Undeserved, Connect, Made, and What Do You Stand For.  The last one has resulted in the most attention.  Walking around in public with "What Do You Stand For?" in big letters across my chest often prompts people to ask me that very question. Starting from when I was 17 years old, I have been working on an answer.  I knew responding with "oh, that was just the theme from a mission trip I went on" was not good enough.  It didn't actually answer the question.  Sometimes, people would respond with their own answers.  This happened if a little kid or someone with Downs Syndrome asked or were nearby.  They would say something to the tune of "puppies!" or "homeless kittens!"...

One of the things I think about fairly often is how many people are struggling with feeling lost to themselves.  Who feel like they need to find themselves.  Who wonder what it is like to love themselves.  I think about this because I only briefly experienced it myself, and I want people to be free of these feelings. I think about how there's a departure at some point.  As kids, we don't ask these questions.  The idea of not knowing who you are feels absurd because you just are.  But then other thoughts creep in, whether they're from classmates, teachers, family members, friends.  We develop insecurities and lose ourselves.  Some earlier than others.  I met this battle head on my first year of high school when I felt a growing distance between my core friend group and myself.  Thankfully, a year later I was able to work through it and return to loving my authentic self.  Insecurities still exist, but I don't give them the power ...

I've been mulling over this for a long time - off and on for a couple years.  Do I want to start a blog?  The idea has intrigued me for a while, but the questions were always 1) what should I write and 2) will I be able to keep up with it? Well, the second question just requires me to set aside time for this.  Can't just assume that I won't keep up with it without even trying.  Time will tell if I'll keep it up.  Might as well give it a go.  The answer to the first question has been more elusive.  What do I feel like I need to write?  What I've discovered is I needed to answer a different question first.   Why  do I feel the need to write?  Ever since the end of high school, I've been jotting down random thoughts.  Responses to comments that I couldn't think of in the moment.  Pondering why different conversations have stuck with me months after they happened.  Rabbit holes my mind travels down after someth...