:: growing up ::

meet my oak tree. 

once upon a time, I left the place where I grew up. there were new things to see, new places to go, new people to meet; it was exciting. it was an adventure. I took my memories, and thought that I could always come back, because it would always be waiting for me. as if here stays the same: as if I can be 8 again and there will be the garden -- the railroad tracks -- grace & allie & eva & john & andrew -- fresh strawberries, pine needles, games of pretend. 

I didn't understand time. I didn't understand change. (I still don't. for the record.)

of the few definitive mental snapshots of my childhood, this oak tree is near the top. I played house with jessa in the tall spring grass, crushing rooms and passages in wavy mazes. we chased crickets when the dry grass got mowed in the fall. we explored the dirt piles and picked morning glories and sat in the shade on the bedroom porch (to the right of this tree; not in the picture). and one grey morning, we stood outside under the oak tree, just where the shadow falls, and mama cried as daddy read isaiah 40.8: "the grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of the Lord stands forever." and it started to rain. 

I think of that baby sometimes. 

I didn't understand a lot when I was little: like why mama cried on my best friend's mom's shoulder that afternoon. I didn't understand why, a few short years later, that best friend decided she didn't like me anymore. I didn't understand why I cried the day we drove down this driveway for the last time, because I didn't understand that "people change, darling," as do things -- and places -- and I. 

this trip has been an incredible one, but like travel always goes, it involves more than physical moving. I find myself growing and changing and learning. the painful thing is in being gone for so long and coming back to find that I don't fit anymore, don't fit in the place I've always held in my mind as The Place I Can Always Come Home To. it's like I thought that it would wait for me; or that I would wait for it; or that I could slip back to when I was a kid and ignorance was bliss, because I thought I had it all figured out. 

news flash. I don't have it all figured it out. 

I've cried here, remembering and missing and regretting. it's been almost harder to come back than to have not come at all. nothing is the same. I'm not the same. somehow it makes me feel adrift and lost.

   sure, I'm 21: still young. I still have time to discover and make a home of somewhere new. I have homes and homes ahead of me! but it makes me ache to come back and have everything unfamiliar, with a thin veneer of "but you do remember this" glazed over top. uncanny valley of memories. 

   it feels like a different life to me -- I wasn't at all the same person then that I am now. and that lack of continuity makes me feel so alone.

so I went outside last night and lay in the short grass underneath my oak tree, looking up at the stars.

starmaker

standing high above

wrapped in life and crowned in love

dark shaker

it trembles at your name

and here with you we are amazed

what else can I say

but sing in adoration

you are holy

high above the earth

creator

what mysteries you hold

your words worth more than wells of gold

soul waker

it was so peaceful. and I thought of the oak tree again. why? 

the oak tree is the only thing that really seems the same. it always looks like the tree I remember, and it's so solid. so eternal and unchanging. (...sound familiar?) 

some constant, that's what I'm looking for, what I've been chasing all my life. ironically, it's been right here in front of me, in the love of my Savior, but it took coming "home" to realize the place I no longer recognize doesn't have to break my heart. I won't ever find that place on earth, and I know that now. I still have changing to do, but my old oak tree will stay with me as a symbol of change and stability: life happens around it, but I have a constant in my life. 

I also have years of homes ahead of me. I haven't gotten to some places yet that years further in the future I'll remember with fondness, places yet to mold and shape me. But if this trip is teaching me anything, it's to better treasure where you are -- for all I know, this (eternal) time in kentucky will become its own life, too, and I'll visit louisville just as tearfully in 15 years. (...okay, I doubt it.) the bad things are so quickly forgotten, though, and so many good things that I may not even realize are good will shine through in hindsight. 

so many times this trip I've wished to be young young young again -- if only I could go back to that very moment, or that one, or that one. but in a few years, THIS moment is the one I'll wish I could revisit, so I'd better enjoy it; make it worth remembering. like that old TtWS song: "there is nothing but the moment // don't you waste it on regret." 

buck up, girl. homes to come. nothing is as good as you remember it being. this too shall pass. with the homes will come heartbreak and I have heartbreaks to come as well. 

oh life. 

california delta breeze, blow back my hair as I march on. 

when I die my body will say goodbye

to the things that held me down

to the fear that kept my hands tied

when I'm gone my heart will carry on

past the valleys I called my home

where my questions and concerns will piece together

until then

I'll ride the wind like a feather toward home

:: to2c thoughts, from abroad ::

"Dickens clearly sees the Manette household, presided over by Lucie, as a repository of value, a private sanctuary from public spying, madness, and violence. To some readers, however, it has seemed frail, and in any case, more a product of the author's values than his observation of reality."
- discussion question excerpt from the back of kelsey's BN copy of a tale of two cities

when I'm at friends' houses, I always check out their reading material. my lovely friend kelsey (whom I've mentioned before) hosted me for a few days during this california trip and one evening I was sitting next to this, one of my all-time-favorite books, and I couldn't resist picking it up and reading the final paragraphs. gosh, it gets me every time.

this discussion question in the back caught my attention (I am a sucker for good discussion questions. I read the forewords, afterwords, prefaces, epilogues, introductions, and questions like they're dessert). read it again: dickens sees the manette household as a private sanctuary, but to some it has seemed frail, a product merely of the author's values.

absolutely yes.

this is striking. it might be why I have never really liked charles darnay, this aspect of him and of the manette household (that he really becomes one of, not vice versa). he's passive, and so naive. charles and lucie both are childlike in their trusting openness and it really bothers me. sydney carton, with all his cynical outlook, at least knows what he's getting into.

I definitely think that's what dickens valued -- he has so, so many stories with a fallen, weak, or struggling man who is loved and supported (or longs to be loved and supported) by a sweet, good woman despite that. I'm sure he wanted that himself.
   in a way, the darnays are doomed when carton dies: they will always need someone to get them out of their naive difficulties, and through the book they really rely on carton just to be there. now that he's gone, the hidden strength he provided in their relationship, or at least the promise of "anything I can do for you, ever" (lucie relied on him more than she realized, I think), is gone. and it's not that the darnays will fall apart, but they'll be battered.
   sydney + lucie would have been mismatched -- but she would've been taken better care of. charles + lucie are pure optimism (optoomuchstic, as maryrose wood puts it), and they won't get far with that. at least with sydney's pessimistic, cynical, worldly understanding they were sheltered (in a small way).
 
but then dickens apparently thinks they'll be okay, as he speaks through carton's prophetic 'vision' -- like louisa's gazing into the fire. "such things were to be." ...or maybe that's carton's wishful thinking: that his sacrifice will be worthwhile. it at least shows his own growth. growth? development. he's now putting her before himself. but also, he's leaving his first distrustful mindset.
   for better or worse.

:: big bite, little chew ::

(HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY EVERYBODY!!!! I love so many things about this country. the foods, the people, the laws that give us freedom; I love having the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I am so grateful for the men and women who have fought over the last 250 years for our freedom, and so blessed to be in a nation where the star-spangled banner yet waves o'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. here's to 240 more years of standing united for truth and justice. I love you, america!!!)
- - -

here's my dilemma. apparently I've bitten off a little more than I can chew in my original timeframe.

recap: I'm trying to read war and peace. to break the sad news to you, I've only reached part two of the first of the first of the firstest books today (about 25 chapters in). life has been so busy and there have been other priorities in my life, and

I mean seriously there are literally 15 books that are real-book length in this thing, so. what can you even expect. (but it's just as good as I remember it :') )

anyway, that's part of my dilemma. the other part(s), as follows: I leave for california on the 7th, and I'm pretty occupied with straightening that packing and planning out--between the several people commitments and car rentals and spotify playlists I have a lot going on and reading for pleasure just can't make the top of my list. (you should be proud of me for getting this far, haha.)

while in the socal and the norcal and all the cals (puuuuumped) I'll be spending time with people and basking in the driest of dry sunshines (puuuuuuumped) and won't have time to read and probably less to write--I still have online classes happening and lettering to do, too, and I'm feeling more pressure as summer comes to a close.

this is not supposed to be a complaint-fest. this summer's been great. internship, scholarships, kitty hawk, california, michigan (in august), and then school--productive in so many ways and I've learned a ton and grown in all directions (but also worked out, so hopefully that stalled a few directions)--but I need to focus on real life and not on self-imposed "commitments". I will totally do this, just maybe not all this summer.

I do have a few notes so far, though. ka-pow. (that was fireworks. we have to have fireworks, it's the fourth.)
- - - -

mostly questions, which I'm recording and keeping in mind as I read.

by chapter 25: already so many examples of war and peace -- between nations, but also between and within families.

relationship tracker: 
boris + natasha
nikolai + sonya
andrei + lise
vera + berg?
marya + anatole are being set up
single: pierre, helene, dolokhov

death count: 1

themes/things I'm watching for*
- love. young vs. old. how is portrayed when it lasts vs. doesn't? who is 'worthy'? who grows to worthiness? how is platonic love portrayed?
- social strata, politeness, rules. french vs. russian. fates of the rich vs. poor vs. illegitimate (aka just pierre).
- personal beauty. how does it affect those who have it or those who explicitly don't: andrei, lise, helene, vera, nikolai, boris, dolokhov even, vs. natasha, marya, pierre? better, worse, or is it a variable? how does it play into their stories?

and then I noticed eyes. for example: pierre wears glasses and is searching. marya is explicitly plain, but with beautiful eyes; or eyes so expressive, so indicative of her inner beauty, that they frequently "make her beautiful"--and she has a(n overly simplified) spiritual outlook. m & p both find their one true love (not each other!!) (if I'm remembering correctly) and both are plain. do they have what the more beautiful miss? ...and what counts as beauty, what counts as worth and value, as exemplified in the book?

*not totally fair. having read w&p before, I have a fuzzy notion of what to look out for (though my memory is far from perfect, so I could be wrong about watching for some of this). I'm afraid I'll be routinely giving stuff away if you've never read this book before; all the more reason to go read it. now.

wheeeeeeeee BANG sparkle sparkle
...more fireworks. eat some watermelon! happy 4th!