Exhaustion

I am exhausted right now.

I’m exhausted in muscles of my body I didn’t even know existed. I’m exhausted because getting told what I’m doing wrong for hours every day can be incredibly discouraging. I’m exhausted because my brain is pounding with new information from all sorts of subjects.

I’m just really, really tired.

And now I have to write a five page paper, stretch, and prepare for the next day to do it all over again. The life of a dance major is harder than most people think. This week I have over 22 hours of dancing rehearsals and classes in addition to 10 hours of other academic classes. And right now I really don’t feel like writing a paper because I’m so exhausted, but I still have to. Homework is the last thing I want to do because dancing has already torn me to shreds in so many ways.

But dancing also puts me back together again; that’s one thing it never fails to do.

This life is really tiring. But one thing that keeps me going is the fact that what I do, this miraculous thing I get to do every day, is important. In fact, it’s so important that it makes me collapse on my bed when the work day is done. How cool is it that I get to do a job that gets me so exhausted at the end of the day? In this, I find true meaning for my life. Whenever I am home for breaks and binge watch Netflix, eat at weird hours and go to sleep whenever I want, sure it’s relaxing, but in no way is my soul fulfilled. I go to sleep on breaks only because I know I probably should. But when I’m at school, I go to sleep because that is the only option I physically have left.

I’m grateful for this sweaty, meticulous life. And my hope is that everyone can feel exhausted at the end of each day and be proud of doing an important job well done.

She Said the Lord’s Prayer

Every holiday when we get together with family, we say the Lord’s Prayer before the meal. But sometimes it can be frustrating saying the prayer because of how easily it can turn into some monotone profession. While Jesus told his disciples how to pray this beautiful and simply honest prayer, it can be absolutely meaningless if you let it be.

My grandma is suffering from dementia. It’s sucking everything from her: her wit, her drive, her ability to ask questions, let alone her memory. Sometimes she doesn’t even know who my grandpa is. You have to talk simply to her because the only response you’ll get it is, “Yep,” or, “Oh.” She’s going to have to die soon, and it’s really sad that she will have to leave us this way.

So my grandma and grandpa went to Thanksgiving dinner along with my parents, three brothers, aunt, uncle, four cousins, and other grandparents. My uncle announced that we would be saying the Lord’s Prayer before the meal, so everyone bowed their heads and closed their eyes. But I open my eyes after a couple seconds and looked over at my grandma.

All sixteen of us said the Lord’s Prayer, including my grandma.

And it was so beautiful. My grandma didn’t just produce complete sentences; she produced the timeless, sacred words of Jesus Christ, who saved her from her sins and will soon carry her soul on wings as a new creation. She produced pure holiness out of her human mouth, out of the same mouth of dull responses and stained teeth. And whether or not she knew what she was saying, she was still saying it, and “saying” hasn’t been something she’s been able to do lately.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. While the rest of my grandma’s body and personality will gradually cripple away, this still remains. My grandpa told me she can sing along to hymns too…such a miracle. It’s a miracle that the Lord’s Prayer or the words of these hymns could be the only thing she remembers in her last minute of life. And while it is sad that Grandma has to be an example of a broken world, she is an example of a power in Jesus’ name.

50 Things I’m Learning In College

1. God is way bigger and more mysterious than you ever thought.

2. People are way smarter and wiser than you.

3. Good friendships take time to develop.

4. Too much time on social media can suck time and good community from your life.

5. Intentionally being with other Christians is a necessity in flourishing the faith.

6. Stop trying to figure everything out at once.

7. People grew up differently than you did.

8. Guys are generally way more mature in college than in high school.

9. Change is good.

10. God is your only steadiness in all of this.

11. You realize who your true friends are when you don’t see them every day.

13. Phone calls mean way more than a Facebook post. Do it—even if you’re nervous.

14. Take the chance.

15. The media is disgusting in its portrayal of the genders.

16. Life is better when lived simply.

17. Friends will change. Let it happen.

18. Doubt is good and necessary for the faith because it shows care.

19. Cry when you need to.

20. Be friends with your professors. They have a lot of wisdom to share.

21. Be open to new ideas (in my case, dance styles/techniques).

22. In dance, an under/over curve is way harder than you ever thought.

23. Stretch and ice more than you think you need to. Your body will thank you tomorrow.

24. You will get bored with dining hall food.

25. You will miss the presence of animals in your life.

26. Ice foot baths are a bitch.

27. Tea and coffee are delicious. 

28. Love others, even the hard to love ones: clique-y girls, boastful professors, annoying friends. Love them as best as you can.

29. Peer pressure is not like in the movies. If you stick to your morals and what you believe, it’s not that hard. People will see that in you.

30. Life goes on at home and you will miss it but it’s okay if you don’t miss it all.

31. The earth is beautiful.

32. There are so many things about God and life that you’ve never thought of before.

33. Ballet composers, plot lines, and choreographers. Yay!

34. Do your dishes sooner than later.

35. Drink water even when you don’t feel like it.

36. Being sick sucks without Mom.

37. Dancing every day helps you improve immensely even if it’s a pain in the ass.

38. You are stronger than you ever thought.

39. Keep your room tidy.

40. Walking everywhere is quite nice. There is so much going on outside.

41. Go to a church.

42. Enjoy time alone.

43. But don’t always isolate yourself.

44. Dance before the Lord with all your might like David.

45. Everybody thinks just as much as you do and is a little bit weird, but some people are afraid to show it.

46. Yes, you were in a bubble at home, but that’s okay. You learned what you needed to learn and now you’re learning things in a different way.

47. Being around advanced dancers and intelligent professors will naturally motivate you.

48. Being single is totally fine.

49. Take each day at a time.

50. Cherish every minute.

Your Nose is Ugly

Two days ago at a school friend’s open house, I was chilling on the couch with some other girls. This little one, a five year old girl, joined us in the room we were sitting. She looked like she wanted attention (I know that look because I was that kind of kid too.) She started guessing our names and would say them correctly with the help of the host right next to her. She said, “Allison,” at my turn. “Aww…how cute,” I was thinking. Then she said to me, “Your nose is ugly. You look like a boy” and started giggling to herself. Thank you, little one. At least I’m mature enough to know that the shape of my nose does not define how beautiful I am.

But it still hurts.

I think every girl (or at least many) have done this to herself at some point: look up and down the body and find the bits she wishes were different. I have never been overly obsessed with this often hourly game, but I’ve done it, and my nose has definitely been on the list. I’ve thought that my nose is too “strong”, too big, too round, too bumpy, the list goes on (though my extreme ability to flare my nostrils has come in handy when I want to be impressive.)

I pick out the body parts of myself and so does every girl. I am that 5 year old girl to myself. It stung a little when she said that rude observation, though I tried to laugh it off. The thing is, aren’t those types of comments stinging every girl who has ever looked up and down her body? She doesn’t even realize the damage she’s doing because it’s more than just one time. It’s every time she sees a photo of herself on Facebook. It’s every time she looks in the mirror when she’s getting dressed. It’s every time she’s with her “skinny” friends.

Why do we do this? Why do we inflict this upon ourselves? Why are you such a bully? Why would you do that? Doesn’t that sting? Can you feel it yet?

That little girl will maybe learn someday, and maybe it will be something to laugh about. She may learn to get a filter and see every girl as perfectly beautiful, but when will I? When will you?

Significance

“To put to sleep”
cemetery means
and so, they rest
beneath the graves
“died at ninety-six”
or unfortunately three
some next to lovers
others left alone
the supposed significant reside
under marble mansions
where visitors come
and take pictures
with the latest iPhone
but significant are too,
the lives beneath
sliced stone butter graves
far from the others
not as remarkable, possibly,
but they are
because they rest
beneath those wedged gray graves
dirt kicked at the edges
without the vivid bloom
but i walk over
away from the group
in worn sweaty shoes
and blue jeans
and my brother’s shirt
from when he was ten
i know that i’ll be one of them someday
too, beneath a
stone butter grave
but with significance
thanks to a full
life and the heart,
not a great vault

Pointe Shoes vs. High Heels

It’s prom season. What does that mean? News feeds filled with cute invites from boys… 10 points to the boys for getting the guts to ask the girl in the first place and 50 if they stalked her Pinterest board to find if she’s the type of girl who’d prefer surprise letters or balloons. It’s sickeningly adorable, and it’s so easy to get jealous. I can’t help but ask, “What’s wrong with me?” “Why aren’t guys asking me?” “Am I weird?”

I am weird. I am weird because on banquet night, I am going to be performing. I am going to be dancing my heart out, wearing pointe shoes instead of high heels. While girls from school are taking pictures at the park and trying not to trip on their dress in front of their date, I’m going to be holding a plank so that I can balance on a one foot relevé for a few seconds longer than the last time. I do this kind of stuff nearly every day. Instead of cheering in the bleachers at football games on Friday nights, I’m cheering for my friends when they finally get a triple pirouette. It hasn’t always been so fun feeling left out of the school activities. Being a dancer requires a lot of your time, meaning no football games, musicals, choir, soccer, and often times, banquet. Maybe we’ll make it for the last hour. But I wouldn’t trade the world for the times I’ve had. I wouldn’t trade anything for sweat dripping down my back after a long five minute dance. I wouldn’t trade anything for the shivers down my spine when the choreography finally clicks and the unity among the group is so evident. I wouldn’t trade anything for being blinded by those theater lights and losing my balance nearly every time I step on stage. I wouldn’t trade anything for being friends with the best women I have ever known. I wouldn’t trade anything. Not anything. So do I wish I could dance with a guy at banquet? Nah, because I’ll be dancing before the Lord instead.

I Want to Be Perfect.

Everyone has some ounce of perfectionism in them, some more than others; but everyone has some. I’m gradually getting over my more OCD-type perfectionism like keeping my room so extremely clean, saying absolutely everything I think, taking forever on tests, trying to be the best dancer in the room, etc. Again, gradually. I started to get more perfectionistic after puberty, but now I’m realizing that none of it really matters. I’m realizing that trying to be perfect sucked life out of me and restrained me from being content and joyful. So this problem of mine is getting better.

I guess.

But now I struggle with a different form of perfectionism, and not in the way that most people might automatically think. Some might not even think this is a bad thing, but I think it is; so hear me out. I am yet a perfectionist in that I strive to be perfect like Jesus. I tell myself every morning the Jesus-like things I want to focus on for that day, and try my best to do it. I strive to do what is right like Jesus. I strive to be kind like Jesus. I strive to love like Jesus. I strive to pray like Jesus….all these things. I really want to do them all. I want to be like Jesus! Is this a bad thing? Absolutely not. After all, he should be our ultimate role model. But the thing is, this is me being perfectionistic. One thing about perfectionists is that they don’t like things to be wrong. They focus all their time and energy on fixing whatever or avoiding any sort of chaos. I am a perfectionist because I am trying so hard to be like Jesus, but I fail daily. So what do I do? I try to “fix” myself and do it all over the next day. Once again, I fail, I fail, I fail. Every single day!

This is a draining life, my friends.

It sucks the life out of me, just like the other form of perfectionism; and I’m continually so hard on myself. If I strive to be so much like Jesus, why am I not striving to do the one thing he so often talked about—one of his main teachings? What about grace? I’ve been focusing on all the other stuff, and yet I miss the very main thing of my existence. Love. I’m missing the whole point. I strive to be like Jesus and extend love and grace to my classmates and friends, and yet every night before bed I cannot seem to extend God’s grace to myself. I try to be perfect, yet I fail every day. I fail to be perfect like Jesus every day. But, rather than focusing on just acting like Jesus, maybe I should focus on his love for me and my love for him. After all, that’s the point of all this jumbled life stuff anyway.

 

Performing {9/9/13}

Long classes make it worth it
The sensation of performing
Looking like royals
Yet never more ourselves

Smiles on our faces
Hair matted with spray
Eyeliner thick
Red lips, perfectly shaped

Lights too bright
Butterflies in the wings
Ready to go on
The time we’ve been waiting for

Then off we go
Turning, jumping
Running, leaping
Having the time of our lives

Heat radiating from our skin
Sweat dripping down our backs
Like a river
Only better

Nothing else matters
We are a single unit
Moving as one body
And then a telling pause

Overwhelmed with shivers
The claps of the crowd
Hugs in the back
Because the curtain goes down

Beautiful Disasters [door]

Beautiful.

Elantris [the next-after-last]

There comes a time when I realise that I just can’t anymore.

I can’t homework

I can’t people

I can’t even grammar.

And when this happens to a community of people, one of two things will happen: either things fall apart, or things fall together.

As the walls tumble down around me, my eyes are opened to all the crap that’s going on in people’s lives—including my own. And I become overwhelmed, because it hurts and it’s hard, and I don’t have any way to fix it or any answers to make the pain go away.

At times like these, there’s no wisdom. There aren’t answers. All artifice is stripped away, and all that is left is a collection of broken, sinful people, searching for truth or understanding or any sort of foothold in the darkness.

When we live in community, the things that hurt others hurt…

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