time heals most wounds...

i've read through this little blog a few times lately. not sure why, maybe because i have the luxury of free time in these summer months, maybe because i'm trying to regain a balance in my life of law and not-law, maybe because i feel that i actually found some solace and gained some wisdom in the process that became these posts.

this has been one hell of a year in the overarching hell of my 20s. the thing is, i'm not complaining, really. i have firmly and fully embraced the notion that what does not kill us makes us stronger. and, hell, at this point i think i may be ready to arm-wrestle hercules. i'm not afraid of much anymore, although i haven't yet let go of certain quirks like my general unwillingness to loan out books and cds, or my reluctance to let milo (the cat) go outside on the roof... but in some ways i allow those fears to stick around because they have become comfortable, familiar. silly? of course, but i'm only 28 -- i don't have to be perfect... not yet, at least.

i don't think of myself as sick anymore. but the phase in my life when i did consider myself "sick" is still so vivid. it seems indulgent, though, to carry around that sort of self-perception (is this inconsistent with things in the earlier paragraph? probably... again, the quirks...). besides, "sickness" is so fashionable these days. and the stubborn, wannabe nonconformist 17 year old in me would _never_ let myself get away with fashionability.

stean called me on friday night. our talks have been sporadic and painful since the break-up. he sounded awful. (does he want me to hear how awful he sounds? he's such a kind, generous soul and i can't imagine that he's so downtrodden all the time...) jenn and chris were with him, and i talked to each of them briefly, in a pass-the-phone-around sort of way. my friendship with jenn has felt strained ever since last october when she and chris came to visit and i was swamped with work and jenn took personally my absence/presence in the library. (i can only ask that people understand -- i know better than to expect that they will.) or maybe i'm imagining/projecting some of the strain because i know that jenn is stean's best friend and she's always going to be in his corner. but i really miss chris a lot -- he's always been a good friend/foil to my sense of humor. he said, "how're you doing, kiddo?" i responded, "honestly? really good." and i meant it.

things are really good. i'm happy. happier than i've been in years. happy in a finally-doing-what-i-feel-like-i'm-made-for sort of way; happy in a things-aren't-perfect-but-things-are-in-motion sort of way; happy in a hopeful way, in a grateful way. (sure, there are things i could pick to complain about, to lament, to obsess over, but not only is that a poor use of energy, it's incredibly boring.)

i guess where i'm going with this is that i feel more like an adult now than i ever have before. and i'm able to make peace with growing older, where before i was terrified that growing older meant having to sacrifice the freedom and irreverence of youth. i'm learning that it is possible to make compromises without having to make concessions. it's okay to be rational and remain principled. i'm no longer freaked out that my friends are married/having kids. i don't mind not having the answers anymore. i don't believe in fate, i don't believe things happen for a reason, i don't believe that there is a master plan. those notions are selfish and foolish -- hatched out of a very real human need to make sense of nonsense, but a need that isn't necessary for me. given the amount of tragedy and horror that confronts us all the time, i'm much more comforted allowing life its arbitrariness.

maybe i've mentioned this in this blog somewhere, but it's worth mentioning again (and given that my interaction with the throckmorton posts are fairly recent, i don't think this is repetition)... on my mother's headstone is written "romans 8:28". now, i think it's fairly clear that my own relationship with religion is one that is, at best, unsettled (and at worst, perhaps, one of convenience?). but i will acknowledge that there are certain notions in the "good book" that are just plain beautiful. this particular verse, romans 8:28, goes something like this: all things work for good for those who love god. it's a very apt summation of how my mother lived her life. and while i'm very much on the fence on the whole "god" thing, the lesson is incredibly valuable to me, and i do my best to let it resonate in my own life as both a testament to my mother's influence and importance to me as well as a relatively sane way of approaching the world. the moments are few and far between over which we can exercise any control, but it seems that if we can approach all moments as ones that have something to teach us, as opportunities, then the choose-your-own-adventure aspect of this world gets to be a little more fun. and where we do get to insert our own agency is in how we respond to these opportunities.

i plan to do all i can to leave this world a little better than it was when i entered it.

(good gravy. what a bunch of self-absorbed pabulum this post has been?! i think i may have made myself a little sick to my stomach. perhaps my next post should be full of celebrity gossip and political commentary (one and the same?).)

the point of all of this? onward and upward. onward and upward. onward. upward.