My favorite poem in a familiar place

If-
Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a man, my son!

To bring with me

I was sad when I entered my last district report for KEY Club. I was sad when I worked my last elections for Student Council. I was sad when I used Shift + W for the last time to see my final advocate design. I was sad to see these things that made up high school for me go.

But, I am we'll aware that these things are not over. Writing and volunteering am running are all very accessible to me at Wake Forest next year and I can continue to do these things that I love.

So yes, I was sad to say goodbye to my high school things, but not nearly as miserable as saying goodbye to my high school people will be. I've said it before and I don't say it enough, my friends and teachers and coaches and siblings are all so good. Each one of them is unique from one another but the same in the sense that they have been better to me than I imagine I deserve. Thinking about leaving them for new people feels like the contents of my stomach as been shoveled out and moved into a lump in my throat. I love the people I know.

But, the more I have had time to think about this love and this sadness, the more I have been able to work out some sort of comfort. Strongly, I believe that the people I surround myself with have formed who I am- that I am not an original self but a combination of the things these people have taught me to be. If this is true, then when I board the plane that will take me to my new home in August, I will not be leaving a single person behind.

When I look up on a dark night and think of how small my problems are, I will be doing it through my friend. When I muster up enough courage to admit my unhappiness, I will know exactly who showed me how to. When I write a letter or dance in the hallways or eat pasta or drive without my windshield wipers on or go to Denny's, I will think of who else I did these things with.

This fall, when my dorm room feels empty and new, I hope I can remember to look in the mirror. There, within myself, I will know I am with all the people who are so close to me right now.

Thank you so much - everyone I know - for being the influence that has built me.
Your impact is an irreversible comfort.

Where I am and where I will be

I wonder if this will be the last
Thing I ever say to you
If the next time our paths cross
You will think I'm someone new

I wonder how long it'll take me
To forget what I now love
For these things I think of always
To be carelessly disposed of

I wonder if, when I get there,
I'll think it the best of all
If the excitement from my preset,
In comparison, will feel small

The future is bright, I've heard it said
And it's something I believe
But when the present lacks all darkness
Why would I ever want to leave?

Brushing my teeth

When I brush my teeth, I start on the right side of my mouth. I scratch the toothbrush left to right to left in the back of my mouth as move it around the curve of my mouth two teeth at a time. After I've taken the first lap, I switch to a circular rotation, once again moving from the deep right teeth to the deep left. I repeat the same sideways and circular combination on the inside of my teeth. I end the routine with eight or nine vertical strokes on my front front four teeth, lean forward, and spit. When I am done, I rinse of my toothbrush, swoosh some water past my gums, wash my hands, and rub my tongue over my newly washed teeth. They feel cold and smooth as the aftertaste of Crest Cavity Protection cools the roof of my mouth.

Like any sanitary member of 21st century society, I brush my teeth after every meal. But, subconsciously, I find myself brushing my teeth a lot late at night. Between desperate phone calls from stressed out friends and helpless texts from lost classmates, I resort to my bathroom sink. I didn't think much of it until today; it was just something I did to pass the time between trying to find words to be the help that is needed.

But tonight I was in the bathroom at EIU and had to place my toothbrush on an unfamiliar shelf while I washed my hands. The shelf wasn't quite long enough to hold my toothbrush and it drooped over the edge, it's bristles pointing at my chest. I took it up in my hands and rubbed my thumbs over the thin bristles that I trust to make me so clean. It's crazy. This tiny plastic stick with soft hairs on the end can make me clean and shiny. Brushing my teeth makes me feel so good and all it takes is one short piece of plastic, a dab of toothpaste, and some water.

Human life is the product of billions of years of evolution and I am a part of that. The human mind is amazing and wonderful and I can't even use mine to make my friends feel good. There are a thousand functions my brain can operate, surely it should know how to calm a friend in need but I just cannot figure out how to make it do so. And still, my toothbrush, my plastic, cheap, and depthless toothbrush can leave its targets shinning and clean. Tonight, I don't even know how to start scrapping the plaque out of some situations. So, if you are relying on me to make you happy, I suggest you try your toothbrush first.

The tiniest of matters

I have spent a lot of time reading Ralph Waldo Emerson. He is a man I admire, one whose work I trust for knowledge when I am lost. But, there is one quote of his - that now clutters refrigerator magnets and graduation speeches- that I, while lying underneath a tree, unforgivably disagree with. He says:

"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters in comparison to what lies within us."

It must be wrong. Behind me is this sturdy and selfless tree. Behind me are countless strands of grass working together to form and unified blanket of green. Behind me are chirps and buzzes and gusts. Behind me are birds and squirrels and wind and stars.

It must be wrong. Before me is the sky which swallows all else. Before me are other, smiling people. Before me is a planet so big it appears flat from where I am. Before me is the sunlight and yellow flowers and the smell of new leaves.

It must be wrong. What lies within me is a single person, and not even the cool, biological part of life. Within me are my thoughts and they are dark and unoriginal and unlikely to change anything. I am here right now but will be gone before I have time to figure out why. I am the smallest thing I will ever know.

And if I matter at all, I am the tiniest of matters.

The finish line

Today I finished my athletic career at a track meet filled with nostalgic tears. Because high jump is the first event of the meet, I had plenty of time to reflect on what ending the season meant to me.

At first, I was upset. It takes a very specific person to be a high jumper, someone who can accept the fact that every meet ends in failure because that is how the event is run. The only way you can stop jumping is if you miss, and I did.

But, after getting some food into my system, I came to the conclusion that it was not this meet that I should be thinking about but the past 4 years. Sure, I could have held my take-off a little longer or thrown my head back a little sooner today, but those are habits I learned over the course of high school. There was no sense in being mad at today's meet- at the crappy weather or the extra 150 meters between my events- because there have been countless practices where I chose water breaks and conversations over work. If I really wanted to qualify for state, that is something that would have come out of 4 years of practices, not just one meet. When I watched my best friend qualify for state in the 100 hurdles, I knew she earned it in every off season practice, every carbo-load, every extra water bottle and pep talk. Those are things I just didn't put in and no matter how badly I wanted to do better, I didn't deserve to. I wasn't mad at myself for today. I was mad at myself for a lifetime of bad habits.

But, as the meet continued and the realization that when I took my spikes off I would never put them back on set in, I changed my mind. My team cheered for our last 4X400 and took our last victory lap and then huddled together in the middle of the track for a group hug. I looked down at our feet, at the limbs that we took so seriously to define our track experience and closed my eyes. When I opened them, I was staring right into the eyes of a junior on the team. We stood there, arms around each other and my heart was full.

Every warm up I slacked on I spent talking to these girls. Every practice I whined through I did it with these girls. Every pizza-bing and skipped stride and slower-than-usual pace, everything that kept me from state-qualifying heights, I did with these girls, my teammates. And that is better than any medal. I've gotten medals before and I lose them every time. These girls won't get buried in my Adidas bag or tossed behind my desk and, if they do, I have memories to wear around my neck.

I am so thankful for everyone who helped make my track experience what it was. I leave the season with no regrets a heart throbbing more than my shins.

Still

Am I still who I was
The one I grew to be
A person I accepted
And saw myself as she?

Am I still your patient phone-call
Your cloudless sky of blue?
Do you need me still to walk with
Or have you found somebody new?

Have these doors that I shut tightly
Locked out a familiar place
Instead of holding in that comfort?
Am I alone here in this space?

Do you, too, feel this distance?
Do you feel us spreading thin?
Is this detachment what you wanted
Or do you miss what once has been?

After time of fleeing solitude
I thought I finally left its chill
But now everybody's moving
While I'm content here, still

No news is good news

I am bored with where I am in life, but I am happy with the comfort that comes with boredom. I am doing nothing new, nothing groundbreaking, nothing memorable, but it is easy. Perhaps that is selfish- to favor my own ease over making a worldly impact- but I'm happy. A lot of me is scared that my happiness is tied to the simplicity of my existence right now; I don't know if I want to risk finding happiness anywhere else.