I've had a lot on my mind lately.  A lot of uncomfortable things prodding at my mind, my heart, my esophagus.  Since as far back as I can recall, I've always been one of those who thinks about dying.  Not just in a morbid, terrified way.  I just think about it.  I'm not altogether convinced I won't die somewhat young.  (Family, take a deep breath.)  I don't have any reason to think I will die young.  And I definitely hope to live a long, long time.  But I think about it. I remember being 5 or 6 and thinking about it.  I wonder how it will affect my family and friends.  I worry some.  I pray.  And the past month I've thought about it a lot more than normal. 

I've realized that 24 is a big year.  It's not just me who began asking a lot of questions and really evaluating at 24.  I'm realizing a lot of my friends have/are.  My sister said the same thing is true of 29 she heard - especially for women.  I think it's that "time before" when we stop and take role.  We realize we're about to be in that age we've seen far off for many years, and we wonder if we are who we thought we'd be.  It's a pretty safe bet to say we're not.  And then we determine where we are okay with that, where we're grateful for that, and where we're not okay and want to grow.  It's a big year of growing.  And as I entered my last month of 24 this December, I feel like I got the big exam to see if I was going to be admitted into the class of 25 or not.

My main question through it all has been, Does my life still hold more potential than my death?  That sounds ridiculous, but wait a moment.  When young people in our lives pass away, it hits us all to the core.  I think there is so much possibility and potential and hope bound up in them, that when they die it explodes in the worlds they're leaving.  We miss the older people in our lives as they pass away as well.  It breaks out hearts.  But there is something about a young person passing away that changes everyone it touches.  And it had me thinking about what would happen if I died young and how deeply I know it would affect people.  And I asked myself, Could me living affect them even more?  The question eventually formed into the one at the start of this paragraph.  And that question has been haunting me ever since, Does my life hold more potential than my death?  Does it hold more power?   I want it to.  I want to live that way.  Gosh, I want to really live!  And that has been part of what's been propelling me lately to take risks, to make choices, to say things, to love, to move on, to forgive and forgive and forgive.  And even to cry.  And THANK GOD for that in my life right now, because this has been a month of real decisions.  Of change in direction.  Of change in perspective.  Of change in my capacity of courage.  

I think there's a reason a lot of us our age have this growing desire to be risk-takers, to be courageous, to be brave with our lives, and why we think about death.  The baby-boomers and those before us saw medicine lengthening people's lives.  We've grown up seeing people die of AIDS, get cancer, die in car crashes, etc.  We've lost friends before graduation.  We know we won't be here forever.  We know medicine and technology can't give us immortality.  And some of us have even been raised with the suspicion that ours might really be the blessed generation to see the day so many have longed for.  I don't know.  I just know we need courage.  I know we don't need to be babied, coddled, or spoon-fed.  I know we're no longer children.


***With all this in my head - I'm now just starting The Hunger Games, and oh gosh, I'm a bit concerned by how much this book might pierce right to my vulnerable core.  An aptly-read book can shape and frame us.***

I get home from work these days and debate: gym, violin, reading, write, clean, sleep?  I usually have time for one.  Maybe two.... And seem to need more sleep than ever.

Tonight, I chose laundry and violin.  And after a few repetitions I shouted to my mom in the other room "That was good! - for the record."  To which she yelled back (from the other room), "I know, I almost recognized it!"

My mom gets two points.  If I ever become a great published author, my dad will take most of the credit.  He's been calling it out of me since I was 12 probably.  He often talks about the "oneday" when he'll have a book on his shelf with my name on it.  However, if I become a famous violinist, my mom will deserve ALL the credit.  Sadly, I don't think her chances are all too good.  And, she therefore deserves credit all the more.  It's not all my dad's fault.  He just doesn't like the violin much.  He definitely doesn't like fiddling.  And he especially doesn't like it played poorly.  :/  I mostly practice when he's not home.  I mostly practice in the evenings... or at night.  Or last week, at 11:30pm.  My cell phone rang, "Honey, you're not good enough to put me to sleep yet." And that's why mom mom gets TWO points.  She's patient with my practice - AND she's funny.  :)

My point is this:  dreaming takes work.  And doing anything more than just dreaming, takes a lot of work.  And while part of me wants to believe that it will be easier to do the work at some later time in life, experience thus far has only shown the opposite.  The longer we wait, the more responsibilities and commitments and challenges will stand in our ways... it's best we begin today, or tonight.   So once again, here's to doing the hard thing, once again.

Last January I bought Kristin and I 20 kickboxing classes.   And we haven't gone once.   :/   I assumed they'd expired, but as I was double checking today, I discovered we have a couple more months!   That's one more of those random things I'd always wanted to do, and set out to finally make happen this year.   I have two months until I'm 25.  I thik I will have reason to smile when that day rolls around and I look back on the first quarter century of my life. 

Copy of Stradivar,
Made in Germany
ca. 1920

Love.

Today I got sent an email from "senior_romance." The subject read:

"find passionate singles in your area."

Awesome. I'm now eligble for a seniors single online dating site.

I've only been 24 for one day.

24. The point of past my plans.

By 23, I wanted to be married. It was just the number I'd long had in my mind. I'd also come to think I'd be in grad school. I am neither. And I am 24. This is not terrible news. What it is, is the year I haven't planned for. I have been considering erasing my new years 'goals' altogether. While I think I have decided against that, what I have determined is to be very careful not to set a bunch of goals for this coming year. And to hold what plans I do make, loosely. This is the year of the unknown. Of His plans. Of adventure. It is exciting to be taking those first couple steps into the year I know the least ever of what to expect in. (sorry to end with a preposition.) Up until now, I knew at least that I'd be in high school/ Masters Commission/ college. Now...?

I'm just excited to see what He brings- and I'm putting none of my own expectations into the mix- beyond Him doing something great. I'm starting the year by reading Lord of the Rings, and now last night saw The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, and I just keep sensing that adventure is going to be more than a catch phrase in 2011.

Adventures require everything, so I don't want to boggle myself down with scattered goals and lists (as much as I love both!!). As much as it pains me to hear everyone toss epic around as a synonym for memorable, I almost think this year will be epic.

And I say that considering all of it's guidelines.

My dentist sent me a Happy Birthday email. How thoughtful.

I love my dentist.
(that was for you T ;)