Let's Not Fake It Out

The new year is upon us. It's silently creeping in this time. Not with a lot of hype, and maybe not with a lot of expectation. But I know better.

This is no resolution but a straight up fact: I will not fake it out with you in 2009.

And I will know passion like I've never known before.

A quick but sincere thank you to all of my loyal friends and sisters in the struggle and in the grind. This year will bloom, starting from day 1. And I will continue to do those things which scare the pee out of me--like love.

Hurray and Hoorah! Fulfillment is upon us.

Exclamation

When did you and I become so dramatic? When did we start using all caps and 3 exclamation points for every statement that we're trying to convey on the internet.

It began as an exaggerated alter ego. A peppier, more vibrant version of myself. But something interesting began to happen. The printed words and expressions didn't simply remain in a void of internet space, they began to help break me out of the monotony of my own existence. It was like reconnecting with the joy I had as a 5 year old child.

Funny, I didn't know that part of me was still there--just buried, waiting to emerge.

I know. That too, seems so dramatic. An almost life change by simply overusing exclamation marks.

But then again, in our search for significance, or simply wanting to be heard, we sometimes go to extremes just to get each other's attention.

I just spent a little time at some amazing grammar websites and writer's pages. There seems to be quite a bit of disgust at the overuse of the exclamation point:

In "Exclamation! etc.," essayist Lewis Thomas insists that all writers "should be compelled, by law if necessary, to submit professional credentials and undergo a waiting period of seven days before placing an exclamation point at the end of a sentence." Regulation is necessary, he says, to prevent the mark from spreading:

The problem is that once you allow one or two in, they tend to multiply, scattering themselves everywhere, expostulating, sounding off, making believe that phrases have a significance beyond what the words themselves are struggling to say. They irritate the eyes. They are, as well, pretentious, self-indulgent and in the end almost always pointless. If a string of words is designed to be an astonishment, a veritable terror of a string, the words should be crafted to stand on their own, not forced to jump up and down by an exclamation point at the end like a Toyota salesman on TV.
(Et Cetera, Et Cetera: Notes of a Word-Watcher, Little, Brown and Company, 1990) Credit: "Richard's Grammar and Composition Blog"

But in our internet culture of today amidst heavy duty adverts everywhere you turn ("Look NOW!", "Brand new!!!", "Never Before Seen!", "Can't Miss THIS!!!", etc.) it has become commonplace to exaggerate, and to especially exaggerate ourselves, over looking the fine and subtle details that make us so extraordinary. Sometimes it's not in a yell, but in a whisper. But of course we're a bit too busy to lean down to stop to take in such fragile things.

I'm thankful for the exclamation mark, really I am. But like with anything else, in becoming too familiar with such a weighty thing, it causes everything else around it to become commonplace and not quite as exciting as it could have been by itself alone.

And once again, grammar challenges me to become a better person.

Yes. Just like that.

It's Complicated

The idea of being in a romantic relationship is astonishing, exciting, and anticipated. But the idea is also frightening and a bit nauseating.

No. I'm not in a relationship triangle. Nor is there a suitor trying to pursue me.

BUT, I have been re-inspired to believe in the beauty of true Romance, the stuff epics are made of. With the resurgence of this idea of romance, it naturally causes me to face my fears, inadequacies, and 'diminishing' commitment issues.

How could you want something so badly and still be so afraid of it? Yeah, I guess it's complicated.

Your Story

It was nice to go out yesterday. I mean, I like hibernation just as much as the next bear. But there is something to be said with having a new level of sanity and security of which I don't think I had much to do with.

No, seriously. This late summer and fall has been my "Joseph's Pit"--so close to the Palace, but stuck underground. But at the same time, as frail as I feel, a new grace abounds.

It's fun to pray with or for people in this season. I usually feel nothing special. No tingles, no gold dust, no nothin. But what comes out of my mouth surprises me-- Everytime. I'm like, "What did I just say...and how did I know that about you??" And on the other end, His Sweet Holy Spirit has caught us both up before we can say, 'Whodunnit'.

There are so many things that seem quite outrageous to me. All around me, there are big decisions being made, in the macro and micro of things. Many decisions of which I'm confused by, but not entirely upset...disappointed maybe...but not fully upset.

And even in my own mind, I'm wrestling. Sometimes I'm by myself, sometimes with an Angel, but most of the time with this being we call God. There are so many times that I want to say in my best Ricky Ricardo voice..."Joo haf sum explanin to DO!" Like really, it's okay to let me in on your universally cosmic detailed planned. Just tell me already. Why are things going down this way and not that way.

Why is love looking so much different to me now then when I was 8 years old or 16 or 21 even? And is a dream really a wish your heart makes and can it really come true?

Stories, stories, stories.

Our lives and relationships are sustained because of them. Good stories bring inspiration and Bad stories can defame character, spread gossip, and fantastical rumors. All of which affect how you see me and how I see you.

And to think, I'm waiting on a story. A story that will shift my own heart to believe simply in the beauty of life and the reality of the more. Because then, that story will infect my community, my friends, my family, even the love of my life.

It's true. We're all waiting for our grand story in a way. But what if you are already in it. The 'waiting' is not a sphere void of existence and purpose, in fact, I'm thinking, that's when the most action is happening, especially in our hearts.

So last night, when I went out, I was aware.

I was aware that the story is being told even now.

And at the end of the night, knowing that, allowed me another sweet night's sleep at the bottom of the pit.

And in Essence...

Could it be, would it be, more than what you think of me.

Sing songs around me, write poems about me.

But trusting and knowing that there is more.

Feels ethereal. I'm right here.

Feels convoluted. But I'm right here.

Feels repetitive. And still I'm here.

In essence, it's all the same and different.