To The Next 365 Days

To The Next 365 Days

Encourage others as much as you can as long as you can.

It's funny.
No, it really is.
The more graduations I have (because dual degree, not just for numbers sake), the more I feel like this is all pretend.

As a dancer, my graduation robes are the strangest costume.
I felt like Hermione Granger.
Like Hermione as a grape because I was in purple.
Or more like a giant stop sign that was confused and more like a caution light.

I am cautious.
I read the blog called That First Year.
It is the handbook of stories of those who are in the jungle, experiencing first hand what life is like after college.

Honestly, I have never even pictured myself after college.
As a creator and an artist, that is hilarious.

So here I am.
Making a bubble bath with some epsom salt before I move out.
I don't want to throw it away because for dancers, these pebbles are gold and the bath time with them is heaven.

I started riding the gym bike today because my hands and feet are scared.
They are terrified for the break they have with the marley floor.
It's like a long-distance relationship I knew was coming but never wanted.

I find myself asking what I want.
Versus, what do I need?

What do I seek to trash and what do I choose to treasure?

Often, I get agitated since I think I am too serious.
Even now as I sit fully clothed on the lid of my toilet with my laptop swaddled between my fingertips, I wonder if these emails to myself will go anywhere, what eyes will glaze their words, will these words waste away or become my source of comfort?

I don't think anyone can predict it.
If they can, I don't want to know.

All I know is that I have heard this season will be hard.
I think anything worthwhile always is.
It's the grace of the Lord that we are here to experience this, and do so deeply.

Trying to start a tradition is curious.
I wonder if I'll keep writing.
I wonder how I'll keep writing and what context my words will reveal themselves like magicians, will I volunteer to saw myself in two with them or to figure out soon enough what my ace of spades is—my must haves and my aspirations.

I'm a dreamer.
More than a dreamer though I am a connector.
I love to listen.
I love stories, immersing myself in them like a bath, I sit in solitude chewing on their rough sentences to plaster them like wallpaper in my mind, easy to study on the regular.

I'm a reader and a speaker.
I'm still a student but no longer here, in Greenville.
Rather, world, I am your new pupil.

Teach me.
That first year, you will be brutal.
I don't know how, and I am extremely intimidated by you.

Yet, cheers to the next 365 days.
To love.
To faith.
To grace.
To wisdom.
To forgiveness.
To laughter.
To the sweet smell of warm chocolate.
To mercy.
To peace.
To joy.

Yes, yes, yes.
Cheers to counting these trials and triumphs as joy.

Here we go.
I don't know really how to sign off, but I am excited.

And that, that is absolutely terrifying.


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