shouts of joy

I'm perplexed by the emotions that love brings. As a feeler of emotion, I feel each one, each feeling that love has shared with me including the feelings that I feel like I should feel, but don't. You know what I mean? I heard a sermon yesterday on the story of the Prodigal sons. Let me start by defining for you Prodigal. Prodigal: Profuse, wasteful, reckless expenditure of money or time So we look at the story of the prodigal sons. One took his money from his father and spent it profusely, wastefully, and recklessly. He left his father, milking his father of all his inheritance, without a care in the world. He expended his entire inheritance on what he thought would bring him joy, happiness, love. At the same time, the other brother stayed with his father obeying the commandments requiring him to do good, be good, obey, and respect in order to be grated an inheritance when the time has come. This brother was staying with the father in order to receive his fair share ...

It's Sunday and I've taken a short lunch break from researching and working on a couple of essays. I made my usual lunch meal - mixed herb salad, with slices of avocado, tomato, and bites of Morning Star's buffalo style chik patty. Sometimes it is accompanied with grapefruit from my favorite, San Jacinto Farms, and other times when there's nothing else in the fridge it stands solo. Today I took my break, fixed up my heaping salad and sat down at the couch to enjoy a few moments of not studying. A few minutes passed (probably only seconds but when you're brain is unwinding it feels like forever) and I found myself scrolling through my Instagram feed, moving to open the Facebook app and realized that this was not restful nor relaxing, instead I noticed that my eyes were feeling tired and dry and that I felt more exhausted and overwhelmed. So I put my phone down and sat in the silence and crunching of my salad. It didn't take long and I was on my phone again lookin...

It's easier to look back right now. I look back and see an open door full of opportunity, sorta like the one I see right now. But looking back it was easier then. The view isn't full of overwhelm, but it looks more like freedom. It was a beautiful frame of broken pieces being liberated. She didn't know that then. But now, looking back ... that was easy ... easier than what's ahead. People tell me that my anxiety about the future beyond next week is related to maturity, "When you're my age you'll see it differently." "It changes when you turn 30." "Don't worry, it gets better." (what?) Okay, so if you're right, if it is maturity, what am I suppose to do for the next four years? And shouldn't their be some kind of progress? And why does the idea of anything beyond the next couple of weeks make me want to run far away toward solace? If it is maturity, wouldn't you expect to see some "maturing" from age ...

Don't you know we want to laugh We want to laugh from our bellies till we cry. We also want to cry, Cry so hard together that our tears become a single stream. Do you know that we want to ask questions Asking questions to understand the words that were never said. Did you know our dreams make a braid of bright, bold, and daring Tightly woven into a contagious flu? We want to embrace for no reason and every reason.  We want to talk about anything and nothing. Didn't you know we want to ache, We want to know loss and emptiness Because we want to also know joy in full. Did you know we want to make noise, go out with a bang, But we want to be still and hear the beating of our own drum. What we need and what we want we don't know,  But we know we are creatures craving contradiction. 

To stay is a false hope. Nothing stays anymore. Everything coming and going like the sun and the moon. Like bell bottoms and skinny jeans. They're hot then their not. Like my bikini bod and my busy bod. Ebbing and flowing like 23 to 24 to 25 to 26, a stark contrast to a seven year-old who wishes to blink to 16 and operate on her own agenda. Already one week in to 26 and it's around to stay for another 358 days. I'm getting comfy in these digits. Good things come in 25's like quarters and gift cards, but better things come in 26's like 26 third graders, and 26 mile races, or 26 mile backpacking trips, and 26 friends in a one-mile radius, and 26 papers left to write before graduation.  I never thought it would be so easy to slide into such tight digits, but here it is. 20 something never felt so great. This may be the best year yet and I doubt if anything will ever beat it. 

I spend a lot of time in the car down here in this over-populated SoCal area. It's not as bad as I thought it would be. It can be rather peaceful with the windows rolled up and everyone blocked out for some quiet time. However, I'm learning that although I'd prefer to have quiet time in a more beautiful setting than my car and as much as I enjoy my quiet time, it is possible for so much quiet time to be a poor use of time for my emotional, spiritual, and physical well-being. It's easy to analyze too much, to add up all the little things and make them a bigger deal, or even wish things were different, to be jealous or calculate defeat. It doesn't always contribute to my positivity, sitting in the car for so many hours a day deep in my own thoughts. But I'm also learning that there are some Christian songs that really speak to me and get me excited and hopeful, I play them on repeat in the car and I sing along and dance along. I get excited with this new song by L...

It's an overcast day in the Inland Empire. I'm drinking coffee at a local shop and beginning my work on finals for my last quarter. I'll be graduating in June as Kristina R. Rhuman M.A. As I use this weather to do what it calls me to do - contemplate - my arms are sore as I type from the spin class I went to this morning, strange it's my arms and not my legs. I excepted to see my friends, but saw no familiar faces. But it didn't bother me much, because I know those faces aren't far away. If I call they will come. And that is more than enough. I've lived here in the IE for 9 months now. My skin is sun-tinted and my freckles are loud. My hair is longer and sun bleached from the days spent at the beach. When I think about turning 26 next month I feel determined and scared. Even worse is my thoughts on June, where will I go when my student loans are no longer deferred and Cambodia calls me to come home.The past 9 months have gone by too fast. I'd like 10 ...