Security.

I've been having a really hard time lately. I'm fine for two or three weeks at a time, appreciative of my friends, getting through my classes, seeing things optimistically.

Then, it seems something small - real or imagined - comes and shakes my confidence. It's like I spend a few weeks fitting bricks together to make the walls of my house, to provide some warmth and safety, and then the big bad wolf comes and blows my house down again.

Sometimes it's unnecessary stress: thinking I'm going to fail my classes, freaking out about how little money I have, feeling like I'm not achieving enough. But sometimes its something physical like getting sick, saying something hurtful to someone, or absorbing a life change.

I am at the emotionally tumultuous phase again. My dad just got a job in Indiana and he and my mom will move there in the next few months. I knew this was coming and I thought I could handle it rationally. Things change and I haven't lived at home for 2 1/2 years. It's not really my home anymore. But when I get stressed out here, at least I know there is some stability, something I knew for so long, only three hours away. Where will I go when I get homesick?

Part of getting married is establishing a home of your own. But it's a phase, a gradual pulling away, getting comfortable as an adult, with a life of your own.

But I feel so much like a child. And I feel like I'm losing my home.

Middle class children do well in school because they experience relative stability in their personal lives. In many cases, they have parents with steady jobs, emotional support, and food on the table. To be successful as people we need security. I keep trying to lean on things, and they fall out from under me. That's why I can't seem to manage my life. College is very hard sometimes. And life is not all fluff and dreams and success stories.

I need to depend on something, on someone who is infallible.

Things I Need to Do:

- Live abroad.
- Go to India.
- Go to a Switchfoot concert.
- Buy a guitar and write a CD's worth of quality songs.
- Read a poem in public.
- Sew my own piece of (wearable) clothing.
- Join a community choir.
- Visit National parks.
- Get something published.

On trust and wooden tribal masks.

Today as I walked through the array of market Wednesday booths in the Union on my way back to Rogers, a Jamaican man prompted me to come over and talk with him. Curious, I complied. He asked me where I was from. When I told him "St. Augustine," he explained that he used to sell his wares outside of Flagler every day. He then gently grabbed me by the wrist and directed me to his booth. He and his selling partner sell painted stone eggs (made in Kenya) and wooden tribal masks he says he carved himself.

He urged me to buy something, as any good salesman does, and started placing items in my hand. He began to bargain with me. "This is normally $60.00 [yeah right], but for you, 90% off! Since you are from St. Augustine, how about I give this [egg with a painted turtle on it] for only $10.00?" He explained he needed gas money to get home, and since business was slowing down, he really wanted me to purchase something. I truthfully told him I had no cash on me.

Unhindered, he continued to talk about his other products. A wooden mask caught my eye. I asked him how much it would cost. He told me I could have the egg and the mask for only $20.00. He could see the doubt in my eyes. Finally, he determined I could purchase them together for only $15.00, "since you're from St. Augustine." He placed his wares in my hands and told me to take them. "Just pay me when you come back through the Union." "Really?" I replied. I said he really didn't have to do that. He insisted that I take them, that he trusted me.

Encouraged, not by his salesmanship (though it was a unique strategy, for sure), but by his trust, I cashed my birthday check and went back to the Union with a 20 dollar bill.

He smiled when he saw me coming toward him. He told me he was very pleased with my honesty and asked for a hug. This could have been potentially creepy, but I hugged him. He and his partner then asked me about my life, my major, and my recent engagement (they saw the ring on my finger). His partner and I talked about the Bible, how he likes the Old Testament because it talks about God; he sees truth in it. He doesn't like the New Testament because he thinks that a lot of illegitimate people attempted to rewrite God's truth, as recorded in the Hebrew Bible.

Should I have presented some sort of salvation message or spoken with him longer? I don't know, and I have some doubts as to whether I handled the situation properly. I told him that the New Testament was certainly compiled differently, but that doesn't make it less important.

Finally, I said I needed to go. We shook hands and smiled at one another with pure, joyful smiles, the kind you give to a dear friend you haven't seen in months.

I walked away with a wooden mask, a painted egg, 20 fewer dollars, and an overwhelming excitement. Was I cheated out of 20$? Maybe, but there's no wrong in being generous.

And the man in the Union was generous with me. Because he trusted me, a stranger, with his belongings. And I was compelled to reciprocate.

Today was an interesting day. If we've been entrusted with something, given something we don't deserve, how can we not feel compelled to reciprocate, to give back, to encourage kindness in this world?

Months.

Look, the tail of the
squirrel has grayed
in the Summer's musky
twilight. The lightning bug
replaced its luminous bulb.

Listen, the cricket learned
a new song on his
rustic harp, a song he
says he sings for
a harvest Fall.

Feel, the humid dusty wind
splinter the stifling
afternoon. Observe,
oh daughter, Observe
my dance. Please,

Child, dance along.

21.

I just turned 21. On Friday, my friends and I (16 of us!) gathered at Olive Garden to celebrate. I had a wonderful time and the cake was delicious!

I received some of the most wonderful birthday presents I've ever gotten, including:
Poetry books (Mary Oliver, Hebrew poetry, 25 Modern Poets collection).
Loose leaf tea and a darling mug.
Gladiator sandals.
Keds from the Wise family.
Flowers.
a Disney Princess Halloween card.
a cat "piggy" bank.
a Punjabi folk instrument.
a Snuggie.
a check from the grandparents (I used this to buy a bag and a cute belt).
Jenny came to visit me!

I have so many wonderful friends and family members. It's times like these that make me realize how thankful I should be each and every day.

Time for a life update.

I survived three week of school so far. I have a lot of work to do; it's all piling up, waiting for my procrastination to settle into a drive steered by anxiety.

I am engaged to my Daniel. It's still surreal, something you think about as a life stage for the bulk of your childhood and adolescence, but once it's real, it's somehow normal, somehow not so dramatic. I love him and I'm thankful for the settled, peaceful feeling I have when I think about our engagement and our future life, side by side.

I have so much to be thankful for. And I'm glad God is helping me see that. Great friendships, relationships, interactions with classmates and teachers. Interesting subject matter. Fellowship opportunities, intellectual opportunities. Health, financial stability, a beautiful campus. And Fall is coming soon. Oh, how I long for Fall. It's my favorite time of year. More than any other season, it connects me to this season in the past years of my life, it fills me with this inexplicable joy, as if I'm awaiting something glorious.

Real Summer.

This is real summer, when you
can smell the pungent fragrance of
cologne and sweat, deodorant
melting off of showered skin.

This is late summer, and the
warm breeze stirs your memory with
thoughts of Fall, but fall is far
away for north Florida.

This is still Summer, even though
we call this Fall semester, and moisture
rests in that space between your back
and the books you carry there.

And you dream of summer, of the
ones that came and went, of high
school anxieties and rain drenched
clothing, coming home late in the afternoon.

This is real, this summer, and you
know that your hope and early fall
luck will be remembered, and stirred
again, when the Sun is high

And the season, Summer,
perspires into Fall.