...for the Fearful

"The best years of my life I was a fool to give to you"

In the words of Adelaide in Guys and Dolls, fear consumed the best years of my life, those of which being the majority of my high school career and today of all days, I was reminded of that very fear.

Whether it was the heat I was immersed in or the hundreds of theatre people I was surrounded by, I took my experience at Theatrefest as one of learning. Yes, I scoured the CSULB lawn for an ounce of sanity, hoping to find it in my ipod or at least one straight guy throwing a football, but when all I could do was witness the flash mob of YMCA, my mind started wandering.

To say the least, Guys and Dolls was on my mind and the soundtrack was playing on repeat in my head. Leave it up to me to find a hidden meaning in the hot box girl's defiant lyrics.

As I played over the duet between Adelaide and Nathan, I recognized a comparison to their dysfunctional relationship and my ever-growing fear.

Today at Theatrefest, I walked past cross-dressers and clowns, refused to take part in the "spirit activities" of picking up trash, and switched my guydar on full blast in hopes of finding someone to flirt with. But through all that chaos, I still found time to be reminded of a fear that consumed me this past summer.

We all go through different life experiences yet we all seem to share the base feelings and emotions; one of which, is fear. For me, fear comes from people leaving.

What I battled through this past summer was realizing that my fear of people leaving ultimately led to my destruction, causing me to pull away from every and anything good in a relationship, in hopes of never having to reach the point of being so

in love with,

enamored by,

closed linked,

wildly impressed,

or forever attached to someone, and in such a place of comfort, only to have that safety stripped of me, leaving me alone with the preconceived notion that people always leave.

My doubts have seemingly been the only reason something so great turns to something so messy and jaded.

It's funny, really. And quite a contradiction.

That my fear of people leaving ultimately leads to a reality of people gone?

Why do we succumb to the expectations presented to us by our fears?

When will we allow ourselves to break the rules and dare our fears, face to face?

It has been said that the only thing to fear is fear itself, but I would argue to take that a step further. Fear itself if you want to look at it straight on, is a pretty frightening concept. But turn it around or view it's profile image, and you see things you may have never seen before. The inner-workings of where that fear came from or the side effects of never facing those fears are hard to see on the front cover, but read the pages and it all becomes so clear.

Yes, fear itself is frightening, but if you take the time to dissect that fear, it becomes nothing more that a puzzle to solve.

The bully who steals the underclassmen's lunches reads "Tough Guy" on the front cover, but open to chapter one and is starts to unfold that his dad is out of the picture and he is forced to be the head of the house, with nothing but the fear of seeming weak to weigh him down.

The comedian who reads "Optimist" as this week's best seller may really be the younger sibling of the perfect child, so she relies on her personality to hide her fear of seeming imperfect; not skinny enough, not bright enough, not pretty enough.

Or for me, the extracurricular junkie who reads "Well Rehearsed" across the front cover, to really reveal an actress who is semi-acquainted with half the school and keeps it that way to keep her relationships simple because of her fear of people leaving.

I could be off on the notions, and I could be looking too much into things.

But what if I'm not? What if behind every cover there were pages and pages of uncovered information about your peers, your family, and even yourself?

In today's society, we have typed up a title to allow others to read and have left it at that. We have let ourselves believe that the pages are blank and all there is to fall back on is the two or three words plastering the front cover. It saddens me that we have let ourselves become bystanders to our own lives. We have mentally erased the pages written and have vaguely typed up a few new ones in hopes of seeming a little more put together than we truly are.

So what will you do? Will you obey your fears and erase the pages already written, or will you double-dog dare them and continue writing until your fear becomes nothing more than a chapter in your book.

::John 6:37::

...for the Joyful

Look Up.

One of the best pieces of advice I have ever received.

It seems a tad arbitrary to just look up, but if you really go into depth about those two simple words, it will unravel a moment of overwhelming comfort which just today brought me close to tears.

In this chaotic life, it seems as though simple moments are pushed to the side.

Family dinners, a few minutes of silence, or even a second or two to glance up above are a few of life's simple pleasures that have slipped away through the hands of our generation.

Over my four years in high school, I have found that each year I get older and older, the less and less of these moments I allow myself to soak in, and that scares me.

It scares me that at 18 years old, I have my whole life ahead of me and on the path that I'm on, the only parts of my life I'll be living are the scheduled events and commitments I have racked up, unable to trade them in for a coupon labeled "day of nothing. take a breath."

Crying alone in my room last night, failure could most definitely be a valid word to describe the bulk of my emotions. Right as I was about to grab for the tissue box, a friendly facebook chat grabbed my attention. In the sea of words, all I needed to fish for was Look Up. Frustrated, bitter, and determined to do one thing right, I looked up at my ceiling and broke into even more tears of frustration.

Today though, that piece of advice was greeted with tears of another sort. Tears filled with emotions I hadn't experienced in weeks. As I got out of my car, I remembered these words. Standing in the middle of my street, I followed the directions and the reaction was one I wasn't expecting.

Joy beat through my heart and welled up in my eyes.

The simplicity of nothingness and the ability to feel as small as a grain of sand was something that sent my mind spinning.

Why do we ignore the simplicity around us and allow ourselves to be controlled by our schedules?

I forgot joy could come from such a simple action.

I have found that the hardest road to take is often the one most traveled when it comes to our work load.

If I join sport A, college B will accept me.

If I stay at the gym X minutes longer, boy Y will like me more.

If I never say no, my life will be easier at some point.

Well, when is that point?

Is it ever really reached?

No, I beg to differ.

By stretching yourself too thin, you get sucked into the mindset that free time is a waste of time.

I have been living my life with the idea that I am worthless, useless, and stagnant unless I am always on the go, always adding more miles to my road travelled, and never having to feel the weight of failure at the nearest turn pike to grab a bite to eat and take a breath of fresh air.

So, what will you do?

Get out of your car, Look Up and experience a moment of free time, or will you continue down the road, never taking the nearest exit in fear of wasting time that could be better spent getting you closer and closer to your destination of Nowhere.

...for the Defeated

My youth pastor recently said to me that the day after doing something huge for God, it's normal to feel overwhelmed and short-tempered. This past Saturday I lived those emotions which I took as completely normal. What I fear isn't normal though, is the realization that these emotions have yet to pass.

Ever since last Friday night, it feels as though my life has taken a turn into a rapid downward spiral.

This last week posed many challenges I was hoping to avoid.

Challenges involving my future.

Challenges involving my conscious.

Challenges that have left me feeling defeated and empty.

Rather than walking through a week of acceptance with a bright light to guide me, I found myself constricted in a blanket stitched with rejection and false hopes.

rejection and false hopes.

Emotions I am in all honesty not too familiar with in most aspects of my life.

When it comes to boys, rejection is almost always prominent, almost as prominent as the false hope of getting an A on my math quiz.

College acceptance letters on the other hand, have up until a few days ago, always left me with a little less weight on my shoulders and another gold star to add to the collection.

It all feels like a thunderstorm, instantaneous and ruthless, although I am sure this has been quite a climactic build for a few months now, creeping up every night, camouflaging itself as dew on blades of grass and damp parking lots in the mornings.

It all feels like a thunderstorm, because I have finally let the umbrella go.

These past five months have been filled with to-do lists, meetings, weekly drives to print shops and high schools, and the never-ending beckon of "urgent" e-mails. With all of this to get done, I was able to shield myself from the rain, keeping an umbrella at a safe distance for those moments of hesitation.

I reached for my umbrella a few days ago and found a rejection letter instead.

My umbrella was supposed to shield me from that disappointment and protect me from the truth. Shoved away in the back of my closet, it only left me stranded, choosing to desert me when all I needed was a false hope.

I feel as though we are set up to fail at a very early age.

Your dance recital always goes well, as long as there is enough licorice and hairspray backstage.

You ace almost every vocabulary test since over half the words are on laminated posters on the wall.

And no matter what, your parents always tell you that you will go far in life, the world is our oyster, and we can be whoever we want to be.

To me, this presents a false hope to act as a padding through the bumpy walks of life.

I wasn't supposed to be rejected, my mom told me I was going to go far.

I wasn't supposed to be rejected, my uncle went to that school.

I wasn't supposed to be rejected, ASB Presidents are supposed to be safe.

I wasn't supposed to be rejected, but there is no way to deny that I was.

I know I can't go through life expecting to avoid rejection, it is just really hard to handle at times.

My umbrella wont always be there to protect me from the rain, but if I let go and set it aside, I may come to realize that the drizzle up above isn't as bad as I made myself believe.

So what will you do?

Keep your umbrella at your side in fear of a light sprinkle, or will you let go and allow yourself to dance in the rain?