Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Step outside

My blogging habit (or lack thereof) needs some serious work. This is basically a guilt post, because I really have nothing specific to blog about today.

My semester has been off and running for a few weeks now. By mid-September the time doesn't feel as though it's flying by or dragging along...just kinda strolling, taking in the scenery. But a month into my last semester, I wish life would slow down. Half the time I'm trying to wake myself up, and the other half I'm trying to stay on top of everything...homework (mostly Strat-related), meetings (again, mostly Strat-related), Oracle and exercise...somewhere in there I manage to find time to eat and sleep. Oh yeah, and breathe.

All the while, I'm like, "God? Um, mercy?"

And my friends wonder if they should send out a search party.

Once things slow down...I'll be done. Sorry guys, outta here.


Yesterday I kinda zoned out (don't worry, it didn't last long) while I was walking to class and -- this will sound crazy but just play along -- I felt like someone else. I know that's really weird, but I don't know how else to describe it. My head felt like a balloon that escaped a child's grasp and slipped into the sky (which was clear blue and cloud free at the time, by the way). I started wondering, "What if the last 12 months have been nothing more than a really trippy dream? What if I wake up any minute and I'm laying in bed in Frances 107, smelling coffee brewing next door and hearing my neighbors arguing in the bathroom?"

Maybe I'm still asleep. But more than likely, I really did lose two friends and my cat -- who was "only" a cat but just as much of a friend. I walked the streets of a broken neighborhood, past little rooms full of hungry, angry, lonely humanity, clutching the grubby hand of a child who "nobody" wants. I survived the summer of "the flood," a ride in an old plane, a maze of gravel roads in a forgotten county. I caught glimpses of better days gone by in my grandma's clouded eyes...glimpses of better days to come as I wandered familiar streets with a brother I once thought I'd never see again.

I put my heart on the line and it got bruised, but certainly not trampled.

The way I see it, we've never really lived until we've stepped outside...whether "outside" is North Tulsa, another continent or the front step, it doesn't matter. Wherever you go, I hope you step outside yourself.

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