Ten Things that My "Inner Child" Wants but My "Outer Adult" Denies

Ten Things that My Inner Child Wants but my Outer Adult Denies her (because my adult self is in touch with reality):

1. To follow Thoreau’s plan laid out in “Walden” and create my own shelter and fend for myself for a while as a Transcendentalist

2. To live in a castle (obviously this does not coincide with number 1)

3. To go to Narnia (Even my “inner adult” believes that this will somehow be possible someday)

4. To live in Prince Edward Island (my inner adult thinks that is also somewhat probable)

5. Marry Justin Timberlake (those celebrity marriages never last…right?)

6. To be a princess (marrying Prince Harry is still a possibility…although it conflicts with number 6)

7. To be a ballerina (or ballerina princess, perhaps?)

8. To solve a great mystery (like if the hokey-pokey really IS what it’s all about, where is Waldo REALLY? etc.)

9. To BE Nancy Drew (it coincides with 8, but conflicts with the princess ballerina thing…or DOES it??)

10.  To come up with a 10th item because I ran out

Snippets

You know, 2013 has been a tough year thus far. There have been a lot of ups and downs. I don't regret a minute of it (okay, I'll probably always regret that BSB concert, but that's beside the point), though. And through all of the tough stuff, through all of the good stuff, I'm slowly discovering what it means to be a "grown up" and to deal with very adult problems and trials. 

It's funny, but being away from Maryland for over a year has done nothing to dim my deepest friendships. If anything, it's strengthened them. And, being the sentimental weirdo that I am, sometimes I hang on to snippets of conversations between my friends/family and I because they mean that much to me. Although I won't name names, here are a few bits of conversation that happened between me and different people at different points throughout the year. The first three are from very dear friends, and the last one is from a male relative (I think the fact that a GUY wrote that last one makes all the difference!). They are simply too precious to forget.

"After all of these years, you're still the only person who really gets me."

"That's because we're soul mates."

 "Is there anything I can do?"

 "Just be you."

 "You know I'm crazy, right?"

 "Yep."

"You love me."

"Always have."

"And you love me."

"I always have."

"Hey Abigail, I know you're going through a tough time with MEN right now, so here are some words of wisdom from Boy Meets World--Eric: "Men are idiots. No, wait, men are BIG idiots." 

Random Thought for the Day

One of the most incredible and alternately frightening things about life is that you never know what’s going to happen next. I mean, one day something dreadful happens and you feel horrible, like nothing is ever going to be good again. And then, one day, when you’re just going about life, minding your own business, BAM! Something wonderful and unexpected happens. It just comes out of nowhere and surprises you.

Granted, bad things happen exactly like this too. We all know that, but just the fact that the good things can happen just as quickly and unexpectedly is reason enough to get out of bed and breathe in and out all day.  You never know when in the blink of an eye, something cool, miraculous, life-changing, or simply—magical—might just happen…

That is all. Go about your day and don't forget to look for those wonderful, little moments.

To Me You Are Autumn

To me you are autumn.  

You are pumpkin spice in a coffee cup

And a plaid scarf around my shoulders.

You are a warm, flannel shirt

And an even warmer hug.

You are a woodland fern

That has curled up in the frost,

And you are that cold, fall morning

That melts into sunshine and steam.

But most of all, you are the spirit of the season,

The colors of the air and the fields and the woods.

You are orange, yellow, and red,

With a hint of romance and mystery.

Risks.

So, I know people who don’t believe in taking risks. I think that’s because they've never really taken any. They've lived very safe, sheltered lives, without ever reaching out for something new, something outside of their comfort zone. (I know my mother is reading this right now, shaking her head because she always claims that I enjoy my comfort zone too much…but just hear me out.) Such people have always lived roughly in the same place, worked the same job, always been close to family, don’t walk in the rain, or do or say things just to “see what will happen.”

And that’s really all well and good. There’s nothing wrong with that. That was a good bulk of my life as well. But then, there was one day when I was seventeen when I was standing backstage at my first theatre rehearsal, waiting for my cue line, when I knew I was much too scared to step out from the wings. I searched for the nearest exit and wondered how I could get someone to come and pick me up. Then something inside of me said, “If you don’t do this now, you will regret it for the rest of your life.”

So I stepped out, and I said my first line. I didn't pass out. I didn't throw up. It went well and I've never regretted it. I've thanked my teenage-self many times for that moment, because without that, I would have missed out on the joy that has been my theatre life, and on all of the beautiful relationships that were forged.

Since then, I've taken some more risks. It was a risk to move away from my family, and it was a risk that I almost didn't take. You should have seen me the night my family and I were moving my things into my new room. I made myself physically ill, I was so scared. But in the end, I still did it. It was God’s will, so it was a risk that I was supposed to take.

And then there are the little risks, like going to an audition this week and singing a song in front of strangers, when I knew that I wasn't fully confident in my performance. But it was worth it. I got back on a stage, instead of surrendering the crippling fear that I felt inside of me. Did I get a call-back? No. But I have no regrets.

Even in my relationships, I take risks. This one is a little new for me. In the past, I feel like I've always been so well-behaved in my friendships/relationships, and in doing so, I fear that people have not always seen a true picture of who I really am. But I’m tired of that. I’m tired of people thinking that nothing ever bothers me, that their words never hurt me. They do. Those little jabs, those little slights, those little times where they ignore a text or say something hurtful do in fact hurt.

And I’m done with smiling and pretending that I’m alright. I’m going to say something now. I’m going to take a risk and let people know how I am feeling. That’s not to say that I’m going to be mean about it, but for the first time in my life, I’m going to take a risk in my relationships. I’m going to be fully myself, letting others see even my most vulnerable side at times, because I’m just tired of being someone that I’m not. The only place for that is on the stage. The only problem is that I’m afraid that I've been something that I'm not for so long that I don’t know who I am anymore.

But I will.

Eight Things that I Love to Do, But Suck At

Dance. All sorts of dance, especially ballet. Although I've been taking ballet classes off and on since I was 10, I’m still a beginner.

Ice skating. I love it, but I suck at it. I still have a nice scar on my hand to prove it.

Skateboarding. I extra suck at this one. I love the idea of skateboarding and I’m in love with my board, Nunzio, but I can’t stay on the board for more than a matter of seconds.

Archery. I suck slightly less at archery. I feel like if I spent a lot of time on it, I’d do even better. Hmmm…here’s a good birthday present idea, guys: a recurve bow!

Bowling. I enjoy it as a group activity, but not enough to really practice up and improve my game.

Mini golf. Or even golf in general. I remember having a wicked swing when I was about 11, but I never cultivated that…bummer.

Art. I’m a lousy artist. Although…there was this one sketch that turned out well once…but that’s a really long story…

Swimming. I actually cannot swim—not even a bit, so this doesn't totally fit in this list. I love water and I love being in/around water, but the moment my feet are not touching something solid, forget it. 

A Favor for the Dead

As a child, I grew up with a boy who was known as the terror of our neighborhood (let’s just call him Brian). He was the bad boy, the guy who had been accused of just about every single crime a 12-year-old boy can commit...and then some. Parents warned their children not to play with him, he nearly burned down his own house once, was known for doing drugs, and he apparently broke another boy’s arm with a baseball bat once.

But, there was just something about him…

I remember watching from my yard one time as he saved a little boy from being run over by a car. Another time, when I had been struck by another child, Brian came to my rescue and gave the other boy hell for hitting me. Sometimes Brian would play with me when there was no one else to play with; he would play house, pour tea with me, and make pretend soup out of wild onions and dirt. Then there were the times when it came to being picked for teams, and I was always picked last because I was the worst player of them all. But Brian always picked me first.

He had my loyalty because of it, and in some way, my childish heart cherished him, despite what everyone said he was like, or what they said he had done.

Brian moved away a couple of years later and I heard very little of him from that point onward. And what I did hear wasn't good. He had hard life, and few people were willing to give him much of a break. Then there was one day when I happened upon his obituary online. He had been found dead in his home from a drug overdose. And then I read the words that really touched me. He had a two-year-old daughter, and she shares my name.

I didn't think his death would bother me that much, but it did. Not long after finding the obituary, I had a dream about him. He came to me, and we stood in the same spot where we once used to play out in the yard. He told me that he was in hell and that I had to save him somehow, because he was in such pain. In the dream, I tried so hard to somehow help him, but in the end, I was unable to.

I've never really gotten over Brian’s death, or the dream where he begged for help. I wish that somehow when he was alive, that I could have done something for him, shared God with him or helped him to get out of the mess that he was in. But, what can an eleven-year-old girl do?

So recently, I found his younger brother on Facebook. I’m sure this guy doesn't remember me at all. But today I wrote to him. I just wanted to reach out and tell him that I still think of his big brother often, and to just share a bit of hope.

Part of me is frightened that Brian’s brother will be mad at me, a perfect stranger, for reaching out at such a random time and in a random manner, but I get the feeling that it’s not only something that I need to do for myself, to let go of Brian, but that it’s what Brian would have wanted.