sweet oxygen

What pushes me is rooted Somewhere between Misunderstanding and Knowing 
Knowing that what I want to understand 
Is not within my reach,
 So I ponder my escape Not knowing what lies ahead.


Adventure in theory is, 
 Full of excitement And bleeds with passion for life Adventure in reality is, Full of breathless moments, silent nights, And wounds that leave scars of memory on a heart.

Can I go the distance? Can I give all my mind to get what the messenger is saying? Can I surrender my knowing? Will I survive the humility of ignorance to obtain a treasure that earthly gold cannot buy? Will I ask the question of honesty, even if the answer convicts my soul and sends me to the land of repentance? All of these thoughts flood my mind.

As I stand on the shore of choosing and in the distance of my wandering, I see with clear eyes a flock of wild beautiful birds Swooping clearly in my direction, as if they see me and are coming for me And how strange it is that their eyes are full of clarity, And the melody of their flapping wings sings out, ‘We are coming for you.'

A song is waking up, Wake up, songbird We want to hear your melodies Songbird, wake up Start singing You're not in your cage anymore, bound by your shame anymore The walls that held you in prison, the gate is flung wide open Start singing, cageless bird.”

It’s been a year now since I moved to Los Angeles, California. To commemorate, I went on a hike at Runyon Canyon. Here’s a letter I wrote myself when I got to the top. 

---

August 12, 2017

Hey Michelle,

It’s been a whole year since you moved to LA and started your first job. This year has been a huge change for you – you finished school, left many of your friends in NY, and you left home, your family in Houston. All of this was hard work, and you did it.

I know you think you didn’t accomplish many things in the past year, especially recently. You wonder if you’re spending your time wisely or if you’re meant to be here at all. Most of all, you’re scared because for the first time you have freedom, the kind that could take you to a million different places. You’re scared because you thought you had a path, but for the first time you’re in doubt. You just want to do what’s “right” and what you’re “meant to be doing.” 

I guess I want to tell you that all of this is okay. It’s okay that you are not sure, or that you don’t know everything. All of your feelings are valid and they deserve to be felt fully. It’s alright that you’re frustrated.  

I know you thought during this hike you’d get some sort of “answer” about how you’ve been lately. Sorry that wasn’t the case, but don’t be so disappointed. Right now I just want to tell you you’re doing okay, in fact you’re doing a great job.

Don’t be so hard on yourself. Enjoy this time, enjoy the people – just remember not to get swept away or trail off to a lost place. Keep writing things out – the things that make you happy and you’ll figure it out slowly.

You are not in a rush. I’m proud of you. You’ll get there. He’s got your back.

2 Corinthians 1:20