It's the Magical, Mystery Kind

I'm trying out a new life motto. It's kind of crazy. Or, at least, it goes against parts of my Sunday School teachings. I also stole it from a really good movie. The thing is... I think it's a good one. One worth keeping in my back pocket, pulling out for inspiration, tacking up on the inner walls of my mind. The other thing is I think it's one that'll be hard to shake free. I say that because it's one I sort of live by already and have heard in different forms before. We met in the middle, me and this motto.

The motto: We are entitled to happiness and we will be happiest in that happiness when we show gratitude for it. We are entitled to as much happiness as we can handle. If I am not happy, I have the right to seek it... To search around every corner of the earth and in every heart I encounter -- I am entitled to do these things to find my sweet happiness. I have to stop only when I die. And, at that point, I will look back upon my life and smile from happiness about the happiness I was lucky enough to have. I will always throw my arms up and around someone or whatever and express my undying gratitude for my happiness.

While this sounds self-serving and selfish and other scary words with "self" in it, I don't worry about that. I know that I am my most genuine, my kindest, my most generous and charitable, my smartest and sweetest form of myself when I am at my happiest.

We're Only Here to Find the (HAPPY) That Lingers After

This past semester I've taken to doing things that people happen to think have a high risk of failure. It really doesn't matter whether there is actually a high risk, or less of a risk than society thinks, or more of a risk than I think. This is about people and their perceptions and how it affects their actions.

I think it scares people when someone beats the odds -- it holds them accountable. When someone beats the odds, it makes others feel guilty (if that's the right word) for not taking chances themselves. It completely derails statistics and diminishes our comfort in them.

Why are we so afraid of failure? I was afraid of failure. Am I still afraid of failure? Of course I am. But it's different now, I suppose. Well. I know that if I'd listened to statistics and "people" and my knees that shook in the face of these high risks of failure, I wouldn't have the rewarding life I love thus far. I wouldn't have this lovely greek-less, writing major, texting filled, burnt orange etc etc life.

Everybody's Feeling Warm and Bright

I have trouble equating pain and happiness. They aren't two extremes on the same scale. A human being is not a scale to begin with. Oh, God, no. Pain and Happiness -- and anger and giddiness and sadness and all the other things we go through for that matter -- equate only as different states of consciousness. They encompass you, bleeding into your thoughts and your heart. What's funny about Pain and Happiness is the difference in how conscious you are of the other's existence while in one of the two states. When you are happy and life is swell, there is always some part of you (or maybe this is just me) worrying about a change into sadness or another negative emotion. Even if it's small, there is a piece of my consciousness refusing to take it for granted, because it is so worried for the moment when another emotion becomes more prominent. In Happiness, we can still remember so clearly Pain. However, Pain is often associated with hopelessness. I mean, hopelessness is never founded. I swear to you, things will always get better. And yet, when we are suffering, we forget the warmth that is Happiness. It can be unimaginable. I hope that someone in pain reads this and takes my word for it: Happiness, like it always does, will come around. We are beings of adjustment and peace, so things will naturally fall together or apart until you reach peace again.

Look With Your Eyes Open

When it comes to my post titles, I choose the song lyric in which its correlation to the post content is clear to me and not at all to the reader. I have a purpose behind this madness, albeit a rather selfish and strange one. Paradoxical as it is, it's to maintain a little bit of "personal" in my here posts. As in, you can have my thoughts and discoveries, but a small part of it -- how that piece of song relates to that thought or discovery in posts-- is still completely mine. This is dumb. It's a blog. It's why I created said blog. Duh, the point is to launch my thoughts and discoveries into the world. It's my choice. But still. In the ways of my eloquent and impressive lexicon, "IDK. Whate'er."

All that hullaballoo being said, let's get down to business. Post title: "Look With Your Eyes Open." Despite all that I just rambled upon, this one actually has a meaning for you to understand. Allow me to explain. Last Wednesday was a beautiful day, and I was on a beautiful walk to class... Not that I noticed. Why? Because I am always locked up in the theater of my mind's eye. As some of you know, I am an extremely visual person, but only in the sense that I see what my mind is thinking, and not so much what my eyes are seeing. What a tragedy! (Not to mention a safety hazard.) I am surrounded by nature's finest and I don't even notice. Even as I was walking and thinking this, I had my head down watching my mind's eye's images of what was surrounding me as I was being surrounded by it. It was bizarre and I felt like a crazy person as I constantly had to remind myself to look up at the beautiful around me.

Your surroundings are as beautiful as you notice. Look up and breathe it in; let it run through your system and make you More.

All Safe and Sound

Being indispensable. That, my tired and worn brothers and sisters, is what we're all worried about. Hot damn. No wonder we're all a mess with our mirrors and grades and socializing beyond human capacity. We want to be wanted and missed and needed. We want to know that if we were to disappear, it would matter.

Well. On that note, you should probably tell the people that are indispensable to you that they are indispensable to you. A lot of people don't know that about themselves. Isn't that sad?

Oh, and chances are, you're a lot more indispensable than you think.

Have a freakin' unforgettable day.

For Every Life

I'm in the library. I'm in the library as my friends study around me and it's quiet and we're doing our thing and I can't help but feel like I'm a part of something.

We are beings of community, aren't we? Beings of belonging and knowing that we matter and are important enough to be included. We need it, I think, although I'm not sure why. I just know that we do. I know it makes us feel warm. That's the word for it, I'd say, warm. Not in the cheesy way, but in the peaceful way. I'm not alone. I. am. not. alone. What a comforting, peaceful, warm thing that is.

Well I Heard There Was A Secret Chord

At what age are we officially allowed to know what we want?

Or maybe the question is, at what age do we really know what we want?

Dance Anthem of the 80's

It is inevitable that you will change in college. Your life changes, drastically might I add, and we are what our lives make of us. What we learn and come to know depends on what our lives have taught us and shown us through different people and situations and locations and time periods and so many more life-altering factors. What we know and how we know to act determines who and how we are. For example, someone knows and acts out Syrian culture because they are familiar with Syria. So, back to college. Different situations, new situations, different information, new information, different people, new people.... different us. We are altered because our lives are altered.

Don't Fix My Smile, Life Is Long Enough

Lo and behold, Trent Walker is an amazing writer. Despite knowing him for quite some time, he managed to keep this fact hidden from me. However, he sent me something that he wrote, and I just have to post it here. Read it as an introduction or first chapter in a book.

It's like an itch on the bottom of your foot that you can't scratch because your tennis shoe won't allow it. Your in a public place so all you can do is wiggle your foot around allowing the sole to gently rub against your sock causing a slight abrasion to your skin, soothing the itch to a minimal level of satisfaction. Five minutes later, it's back. All you want to do is sit down, in the middle of wherever you are, rip off your shoe and scratch. Scratch until the itch is gone, then put the shoe back on and happily go about your business. But this would cause people to stare, wondering why you're sitting on the floor without shoes on, touching your feet. This is a problem. When does it itch so badly that you begin to not care? I suppose its up to each individual's personality, self esteem or social concerns. Well, what if that itch were something less simple and the people watching were more important? The people watching could be your family, friends or anyone whose view was significant to you. Say, for instance, that itch was one of adventure, boredom, philosophy or passion. At what point does someone say, "Screw it, it itches too much." I'll tell you, that point changes throughout our lives. There is a critical period for freedom, for adventure. Just like the critical period for learning. We all know what that is. They say your mind is a sponge when you are a toddler and its the best time to learn how to speak, read, or write. Well, I suggest that there is a point of no return for our sense of freedom. I'll give it a number just for throwing around's sake. We will call it 18. That's a good number. If you don't take your shoe off and itch your damn foot before you are 18 then your chances of ever itching your foot exponentially decrease from that point onward. Now, I will admit, that is a bold claim based loosely on hardly any facts at all, but hey, how old are you? If you are young enough to wait around for facts then by all means, do so. Just keep wiggling your foot around if you have the time. Not all of us have that luxury. There's a deadline for adventure. Now don't get me wrong. I'm not telling you to snort the next line or you're dead. Don't let this little theory affect your drug usage. That's not my goal here. My goal is to tell you my story. My story of adventure is, I hope, an inspiring one. This is an experiment and you are a patient. In a few years, the results will be published. The Times will read something like "Critical Period for Adventure Theory Proven, Author a Genius!" or "Crack Pot Theorist Scams America into Buying Book and Running Off." Either way, you are going to have an adventure. Get ready. Have you ever seen the bored loser spin a globe, stop it with his finger, and go on vacation to wherever it landed? Screw that. What if his finger landed somewhere boring? No. That is dumb. Where do you want to go. I'll tell you where I wanted to go.

Do the Panic

I was going through my messages to Ellee and found this one. It made me smile, so I thought I'd post it. It was written in the last month or so of school.

------------------------

Sweet Ellee, Sweet Ellee!

How I love you so much. 

Oh Ellee, Sweet Ellee. Gosh, I'm growing up. I spent so much time running, hurling forward and now it's that time where I pause and step back. Turn around, take a glance, what will I miss? Slowly my steps are faltering, I'm second guessing my pace. Maybe I should sit back and enjoy this a little more.

It's funny how God has people work in my life. Just as you helped me adjust to being here, in this red-coated, Mustang-loving, strange little nook, you're helping me leave it, move on and enter a whole new stage of being.

I can't decide who I want to be in college, if I had to decide now. I think a little more of me, give or take a few things. I'll take myself less seriously, but trust my gut more. I want to give out love the way an unhygienic 4-year-old passes out germs. I want to cook more, judge less and be able to sing. I know, I know, it's not for me to know or decide. But I can't help but wonder, who will Lana be in a year?

Gah here I am again. These questions, no answers. All that I know is that every decision I make now affects Lana in a year. So, that makes me wonder, what are my decisions like now? Maybe I shouldn't've talked so angrily to my mom, to Holly, to the lady at Kroger... But I'm happy for my studying, my loving, my helping. Gosh, I've got a little bit of this, a little bit of that. Good grief, who knows what's going on, I'M SUCH A PERMANENT MESS.

Love,

Lana

I Climbed the Tree to See the World

It's the middle of the night and I so desperately wish I was asleep - school tomorrow, tests, pressure, expectations, smiles, etc, etc - how badly I want energy for all of it. Alas, I am awake, and it is one of those strange moments in the 24-hours where time has no business controlling me, and I am free to think outside of it. 

After closing my eyes for the third or hundredth time, I allowed myself to think about something that terrifies me, that I refuse to think about and refuse to acknowledge: old age. While usually I get sad and fearful at the thought of the very old, I found myself smiling in wonder and awe. These people did it, they did Life, they made it this far; in one of those strange moments where you let your imagination shamelessly wander, I found myself shaking hands with an old person like a celebrity and saying, "Congratulations, can you tell me all about it?" When I sensed that I was okay at this point in my train of thought (I, for the first time ever, did not have a panic attack at the thought of being very old), I imagined what it would be like to be old myself, and I got excited at the thought of having so much to think about, a lifetime's worth of things to analyze and ponder and change into wisdom. My mind wandered on and I found myself thinking about how "leaving a legacy" after you die is more complex than having children and making sure your genes stick around for a little longer; we leave a bit of ourselves on this earth in a thousand different ways. I thought about how I personally wanted to exist still on this earth after death and I realized that I want to live on in words, in writing. Maybe on this blog, maybe in a book, maybe in letters I will hide all over the world for someone to find. Anyway, I'm rambling now, but this is the way of my thoughts and who am I to tell them to stop and pull themselves together at this hour, huh?

If you ever find yourself awake the way I am, maybe you can think a little bit about Life with a capital L, where you'll be and what you, just you, want out of it. Maybe you'll find, like I did tonight, that it's so much more complex and a lot less harsh than you thought. Or maybe you'll get lucky and fall asleep before it all comes crashing down on you like feathers, saving those thoughts for another bittersweet sleepless night.

These Times When Everything Slows

One, throw on your swim suit. Two, grab that book you've been meaning to read and that playlist you've been meaning to listen to. Three, don't forget Claire! (Four, make fun of Molly.) Count 'em one, two, three- my morning ritual for the next four days. This week is Spring Break and I'm heading to Ixtapa along with a big group of senior hooligans and our families. I cannot wait for the feeling of the sun shining on my face, not worrying about what time it is, and being to sleep and eat whenever I feel like it. The last few weeks at school have been tough on all of us, so I'm so excited that we're getting a well-earned few days in the sun to run around like idiots and be merry!

Wherever you are and whatever you're dealing with, I hope this week is kind to you. I hope you take the time to focus on you and your need for relaxation, for alone time, for sleep, for laughing, for vitamin D, for quiet, for music, for anything and everything you love.

We Can Unwind and Just Be Free

"At least we know that if we die, we lived with passion."
-Will Pugh

I read this quote recently and, like most things I write about, it made me stop for a second to think. Live with passion. What does that look like? Is it a fiery red dress? Something like mischief in the eyes? A way of walking or holding oneself up? Maybe. Or maybe it's something completely different that you can't see, but know is there. I believe you can tell when someone lives with passion. They're the kind of person that draws you in because something about them excites you. I'm not talking about chemistry, that exists between two people. I'm talking about those people who you have a conversation with and have to do a double-take to see if there really was light bursting from within them or if that was just their personality, their soul. Those people who seem confident in themselves and in their destiny, not worried about Life and the many ways it holds you back and tears you down. I'm not saying they never break down, or get scared or tired. They just keep pushing forward, even if it feels like swimming through concrete. They're the kind of people who you can't help but wonder if they have private, giggling conversations with Life. If they and Life just sit around and gab about the things that make them laugh or make them think. They love Life and, more than that, they trust it like an old friend.

I think we all have the potential to be that person brightly spinning, flying forward 'till death do us part. We all have a life, it's just a matter of truly making it our own. To me, it's just like developing a new friendship into something you can count on- it takes time, honesty, a level of comfort, the ability to compromise and a whole lot of breakdowns- it just happens to be a relationship not with a person, but with Life.

"You can't dance and stay uptight"

I used to believe that there wasn't a purpose in life, so I could just do what made me happy instead of trying to complete some sort of goal. Then, I realized maybe this is our purpose in life: to be happy, to enjoy something so simple and complex as living.

We'll see
where that takes me.

"Burning solid, burning thin the burning rim."

"When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire."

When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire? The first time I heard this quote ("Your Ex-Lover is Dead" by Stars), I was speechless. There were so many images being tossed around in my head: chaos, self-destruction, burning people at the stake, riots, the burning of books. I was confused and shrank back. Very rarely do quotes inspire such a reaction in someone, and this is exactly why I took a lot of time to think about how I would come to interpret it.
When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire. The first interpretation I stuck with had to do with living in a place where all your belongings and things that matter to you have been taken away or "burned" and then, finally, one has to fight back and "set themselves on fire" with passion. A little cheesy, I know, but this is just what my head came up with.
This year, my second interpretation was a little more personal. As most of my fellow classmates have come to realize, this year hasn't exactly reached it's maximum potential yet. Don't get me wrong, I'm having a great time, loving my classes and managing to enjoy yearbook most of the time, but still, there's been something missing. It's as if I burned through all of the things I mildly enjoyed and have gotten bored of the routine. Yes, I said "burned" for a reason. At this point, I feel like "there's nothing left to burn" and now, I "have to set myself on fire." Oh, crap. Doesn't that sound delightful. Well, to me, it does. When I hear set yourself on fire, to me it means to get passionate about something and throw yourself into it, learn all about it and want to share it with everyone. So now, I'm reading again and learning again and asking questions again and thinking weirdly again; I'm setting myself on fire in the best way I know how.

And, in conclusion, I ask you to do the same. Set yourself on fire. What do you like to do? Practice it. What do you wonder about? Delve into it. What do you want to share? Talk about it. Do whatever it takes to set yourself on fire.

Flip Side of Empty

I'm in the mood to make a list. A list without a title might I add because, let's be honest, this list will reflect the current state of my mind, filled to the brim with a whole lot of Random. I suppose I should give it some sort of theme though, no? How about this?

Thoughts of a Hot Mess with A.D.D. (Thanks, Harty. haha)

1. What is with mainstream music being so catchy lately? I can't get enough of "Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry. Okay well to be honest I've always loved Katy Perry but this song is addictive.

2. Yearbook is actually going well. We had our 2347982735th editor meeting today and we've finally settled on a cover and a few other things that you wouldn't really care about. Our staff seems to be a good one and I really can't wait for this year to take off. Not that it hasn't... it's just, I want everyone to reach that point of comfort and routine that makes yearbook so fun. Ah well, "wanting it to take off" is a great problem to have.

3. Why does Houston weather blow so much? Today, Molly asked me if I ever go swimming in my pool and I thought to myself, "Why do I need to get in the pool? The humidity makes everyday a swim through the freaking OCEAN." NEVER MIND the 400 degree air temperature that makes everyone LOOK like they swam with the dolphins because we're all sweating so much.

4. Where is Sara Khan? I never see this girl anymore and it saddens me.

If you see this girl, let me know and tell her I miss her.

5. Being a senior is a wonderful thing. I walk around and see people in my grade and feel like I can say hi or stop and talk to about 90 percent of them. That's so special. My Econ teacher (who I'm sure is secretly Yoda because he's pretty dang wise) said something really interesting on the first day of school. He goes, "There's nothing like being in a classroom with the people you grew up with." And that's so true. There is comfort and fun and familiarity and security in that and I'm really enjoying the last year of it so far.

6. I see burnt orange in my future. More on that later. 

I'll be updating this as the night goes on... 

"Pictures Only Prove You Can't Convince"

It just hit me how much I feel like the people of our time, the people who are alive right now are just renting out the world. It's all so... temporary and brief. I was thinking about how I don't really care about leaving my mark for generations to come even though a lot of people do and then I thought about how fleeting this time is and how... well, no one cares that much about what we did after we're not alive anymore. That's scary and controversial and something most people don't want to hear but I mean, that's just how I feel. I mean, I don't disregard what everyone who is dead has done, of course not, but I respect them and their work and that's about it. It really matters what I'm doing right now with the people and things that I have and it shocks me how little time I have to live... I'm only going to be alive for like 80 more years max. That's freaky. Who cares about what I did after I'm dead? I don't want people to spend too much time focusing on what I did. I want them to enjoy the Life around them- the people, the pulse of where they're living, the things, the ideas, the passion- everything that is alive. The only way I want to be involved is in their growth and realizations and discussions, the things that make me feel alive. I don't want them to study the things that I did that won't affect them in anyway, that's a waste of time, I'm dead for crying out loud! Who cares! And now I'm going to flip that around and talk about how I'm going to live my life while I'm alive. I don't want to waste time on this world, on this place that I'm renting out for 100 years or less. I know I sound so cliché but I don't actually believe that 98% of people who talk like this actually mean it. I hope they do though. I want people to realize how short their lives are and how much they have to experience and appreciate. SO cliché. Oh well. I mean it.

Don't mind the grammatical errors. I wrote this quickly and am posting it without proofing it. Oh my gosh this is so long, I'm sorry.

"Hey Jojo, Don't you forget your name."

Over the last few days and especially today, I was wigging out. I couldn't really place my finger on why but I was definitely lashing out a little bit (sorry to those of you who had to deal with it) and doing the whole grumpy pout-cross-your-arms thing. Anyway, I was thinking about my life and asked myself, "well, what do you want to make your life about?" and was hit in the face with an epiphany. Naturally, I began writing a letter to myself (I sound so like an insane person. It's ridiculous.) and this is what happened.

"You choose what you make your life about.

Don't forget that.

You did not become stressed recently because of anything that happened to you.

You became stressed because you forgot that this is your life.

You choose what your life is about.

Last year,

that fateful junior year,

you started doing things because you wanted to do them.

Not because you were supposed to.

And you became happy

and felt productive

and satisfied

with your life.

You love yearbook.

Stop acting like it's something you have to do.

Because guess what?

You love it.

You chose to dedicate a part of your life to it next year

not because you were forced to

but because you wanted to.

Because you love it.

Don't forget why you love it.

Or hey,

stop forgetting that you love it.

And this college thing.

Get over it, man.

You love to write,

these essays should be making you happy.

And you want to go to college.

To learn

which is something you love,

something worth making your life about.

So buck up.

You love learning.

And you're applying to colleges because you want to go.

Not because you have to.

Stop doing the things you love because you feel like you have to do them.

You're just lucky what you have to do is something you love.

No wonder you crashed.

You idiot.

Stop “playing the part” of the dramatic teenage girl.

It's not satisfying.

And you know it.

Do things because you want to.

You have so much good ahead of you.

Why do you keep forgetting this?

It is your life.

What do you want to make it about?

Idiot."

So cheesy. But it's so what I needed to realize in that moment. 

Off to Nashville with Colorful, Wonderful Claire

I know I promised a post about Paris but this is sadly not it. However, I am jetting off to Nashville, Tennessee to meet up with Claire and her mother for a weekend! After hanging out there, we'll be going to Missouri and then Arkansas where I will finally get to see a piece of Claire's past. I am so excited!

A random thought I had today (it's nothing special. Pretty obvious. Just one of those things that I needed to realize on my own):

We have a choice in very little. We don't have a choice in the obvious- who we are, where we come from and what our families are like- but, we also don't have choice in things like what we like, what our passions are and who we fall in love with. (Here comes an even more obvious thought.) We do, however, have a choice in what we embrace about ourselves. Last year, my junior year, I finally chose to openly enjoy the things that I love and I became much happier and made friends in the process. I hope I never get shy about what I like now that I know what it is that makes ME happy. I also hope that I never happen upon people who make me afraid to embrace the things that I love. So far, I haven't. And I am so blessed for that, for all of you!

My Dig on Communication

I've learned something about communication while here experiencing life as a mute thanks to my inability to speak the language. It's something that's obvious, nothing profound, but I was still interested by it none-the-less. I've found that guys tend to communicate and bond over physical things like sports while girls communicate through talking. Although this is no scientific conclusion drawn from an intense and long experiment, in my experience here it's been a general truth. My cousins here are all boys and there's always an awkward moment we have to get over when we first see them. While I was not able to deal with it through talking, the minute my brother broke out the basketball, everything was fine. Thank God he exists.