I spent the summer in Virginia standing on mountains.
I came for an internship, and when I applied for it, I had some hope of it jumpstarting my career as a world-savvy international journalist writing stories that matter. Instead I wrote a bunch of brochures and read a lot of heartbreaking articles (by actual world-savvy international journalists).
At some point in early summer, I started wondering what exactly I was doing in Virginia. The series of events that led to my taking this internship in a city and an organization I’d never heard of seemed somewhat unlikely, so I figured it was a God thing. But I spent my days writing brochures and scheduling Tweets. It wasn’t exactly my dream job, and I hadn’t really made any friends in Virginia. My presence there didn’t seem to be doing anyone much good.
I am sitting in a coffee shop with an iced mocha and a pile of books, because this is how I know to not be lonely, filling myself with chocolate coffee and words, forgetting the people I love are a thousand and more miles away. Not forgetting maybe so much as accepting, as hoping that we are all where we are meant to be.
Words are the stuff that dreams are made of for me, the beauty of a world that exists only in mind. Language is odd if you think too hard about it. What are words to the natural world? What are hope and beauty to rays and particles of light, gusts of wind, green things growing? We are trying to name the things we see and the things we don’t see but know are there somewhere. Sunlight means more to us than brightness from a burning sphere of hydrogen; sunlight means warmth and unfurling petals, looking ever up.
I think of the things that move me in two categories: nature and humanity, but we also are creation. The synapses that light up the human mind into both poetry and calculus are as breathtaking as the most brazen colors of sunset.
It’s been a good trip around the sun this time. All years have ups and downs but I remember mostly good things. Here are a few:
I spent half the year living with my best friends, and it was wonderful. We sat on our porch reading our Bibles together, made a lot of cakes for no real reason, and had lots of car ride singalongs. Though we’ve gone separate ways for now, I can still go to them for anything. They’re forever friends.
Fall is approaching again. If you’ve read my blog through the seasons, you’ll know that I am in very strong opposition to fall. Other people get excited about apples and sweaters and pumpkin flavored everything, and I like to just kind of cross my arms and glare.
Perhaps I should try to withhold my judgments this year and make better memories. I do like sweaters. I don’t like school starting again or trees dying or losing people.
I have been without some of my dearest friends for over 23 days now. I am sad about it, because–well, I’ve already written about it. We grew close and loved Jesus and went on adventures. Adventures are my favorite, and my friend Fern is very good at instigating them.
Fern is a gem and made me realize that I’m not quite as introverted as I once thought. I am more introverted than extroverted, I think, but I really, really like being with people and doing things.