There's a change in the weather,
A change in the sea.
From now on there'll be a change in me.
My walk will be diff'rent, my talk, and my name.
Nothing about me is gonna be the same.
I'm gonna change my way of livin' - if that ain't enough,
I'll change the way that I strut my stuff.
Nobody wants you when you're old and gray.
There'll be some changes made today.
I have the best conversations with my friend, Artie.
We're both sophomores - in the midst of some serious changes in our lives.
Two years out of high school, and two years away from adulthood.
We're both planning on living, studying, and interning next semester in Chicago. And for the semester after that, we've applied to study abroad in London and Florence. If our applications are accepted, we'll be spending an entire year off campus...in the "real world." I don't know how I feel about this, exactly. I wish there was a word that meant completely and utterly stoked out of my mind and at the same time scared shitless.
When I think about how different I was just two years ago (a know-it-all smug teenager, ready to move out and conquer the world, one huge leap away from home at a time; a totally inexperienced speck, content with floating in an illusionist abyss) it scares me to think about where I'll be in two years.
I love who I am now, and I love who I am becoming. I feel like improvement and experience are inevitable and always on the horizon. But it took some effort to get where I am now. I had to be wrong, ashamed, embarrassed, criticized, independent, dependent, hurt, hurtful, uncomfortable, decisive, accepting, and many other things, I'm sure.
Who will I be after two more whole years of experiences like these? Will I be a better person? Will I be worse? Will I be closer to my dreams? Will I be living on the streets? Will I be celebrating life? Will I be attending a funeral? Will I have overcome fears? Will I have developed new ones?
In times like these, it's extremely important to me to have something that keeps me grounded. Something that keeps me sane and happy, regardless of everything else that's going on. For me, that thing used to be faith, specifically, Catholicism. For whatever reason, I've pulled myself away from that faith, and honestly, it's been difficult; I've been struggling. I miss the comfort I felt knowing things were in somebody else's hands. I miss praying. I miss thanking somebody for everything have to be grateful for. I miss being a part of the community I grew up in.
But there are so many things I believe in today that are so against some of the things I once believed that I can't find it in myself to go back without feeling like a liar or a hypocrite. What a selfish reason for going back: because I liked how it "felt."
Now, I guess, I find god in nature, most prominently in the wind.
There's something about the way it rushes past you or hits you at full force. Whether it brushes your cheek or whips you sideways, it's there. It's present, powerful, wonderful, and invisible. You don't know where it came from and you don't know where it's going, but it touches you on it's path and makes you fight to move forward. It challenges you to push back, sometimes forcefully, and sometimes like a playful wakeup call.
It'd been pretty chilly lately, but after that night that Artie and I had a soul-bearing session, 50 plus degree winds blew for a good half a week or so. I think nature was trying to tell me to embrace this transition period, which was just what I needed. It was the perfect indicator that where I am now is where I'm supposed to be. Change, though scary, is good, and at this point, exciting.
And what a perfect time to be enjoying change! This week, I'm in New York with two of my best friends from school! More updates on this trip later, though. Gotta be up early for a picnic in Central Park tomorrow :)