a post with alot of me, myself, and i's

way back when i moved into evanston, i went to a women's night with my sister suzanne. and there a women gave a talk about her recent stay in hawaii, when she went to just get away and re-group. after her incredible story of stength and faith, she asked us to write down something we each individually were struggling with. after a few moments, after not really thinking about it, i scribbled down "direction" on my piece of paper.

i'm struggling with direction; WHERE am i going? WHEN am i going to get there? ...HOW am i going to get there? are a few questions that are running thorugh my head. i'm currently switching my major from architecture to art and design. i've just wasted a semester, which has resulted into a year, of trying to pretend and hold onto architecture as my desired career path. why? i knew that architecture wasn't what i wanted, i had no passion for it. i knew that architecture lacked the majority of the type of creativity i love to play with and create. so why did i try to pretend to want something i knew i did not want?

while growing up the majority of my frustration stemmed from not being able to make decisions. i remember destinctly standing at a vending machine on our way up to michigan, just staring at the candy inside. did i want the peanut butter m&m's or the regular m&m's? did i want a pack of gum? a bag of chips? malt balls? panic grew inside me, "what do i want!?" then my mom and sister sara tried helping me decide. "well, what are you in the mood for anya?" they kept asking me. i could not decide, i did not want to get one thing and find that that was not what i wanted. i didn't want to make a mistake. the frustration grew too big and the panic ended up overwhelming me, so i just walked away.

my lack of direction and inablilty to make decisions go hand in hand. i never thought i'd be here. when imagining my future self i always passed over the college years and went straight into picturing life that followed college. my family, my career, ect. even that was fuzzy and just silly girlish imaginings (which i guess any furture imaginings of yourself are). i couldn't create direction for myself, because that would mean i would have to decide what that direction would be. i didn't know where i wanted to go or what i wanted to do. possibilities and options were/are endless. i wanted someone to come and tell me, "anya you have to be blankyadiblank" or "anya, you have to go into blankyadiblank." i just wanted for someone to tell me where to go, so i wouldn't have to decide myself. and i guess it all comes down to fear. fearing i will make a mistake, fearing to create realistic dreams and set goals. fearing to fail, fearing to get hurt. but isn't that life? you only learn from failures. it's not as though you fail, that's it. it's over. there, that's the backward mindset i've been thinking in. i'm afraid to try, because i'm afraid to fail. i'm afraid let myself get attachted or excited about things that aren't difinate.

then i start thinking, on the other hand. i'm not that afraid, i know what will happen will happen. what will be, will be. there is a reason for everything, and sooner or later you might find out why...or you may not. i beilieve in God. i put my trust in God. so why should i be fearful? maybe there inlies the problem. maybe before i didn't really put my trust in God and instead invested more in fear.

oh fear, you nasty little thing.

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Measure me in metered lines, in one decisive stare,
the time it takes to get from here to there.
My ribs that show through t-shirts and these shoes I got for free;
I'm unconsoled, I'm lonely.
I am so much better than I used to be.

Terrified of telephones and shopping malls and knives,
And drowning in the pools of other lives.
Rely a bit to heavily on irony.
Get clobbered on by courtesy, in love with love, and lousy poetry.

And I'm leaning on this broken fence between Past and Present tense.
And I'm losing all those stupid games that I swore I'd never play.
But it almost feels okay.

Circumnavigate this body of wonder and uncertainty.
Armed with every precious failure, and amateur cartography,
I breathe in deep before I spread those maps out on my bedroom floor.

And I'm leaning on this broken fence between Past and Present tense.
And I'm losing all those stupid games that I swore I'd never play.
But it feels okay.

And I'm leaving. Wave goodbye.
And I'm losing, but I'll try, with the last ways left, to remember.
Sing my imperfect offering