My Dearest Nana Lucy

They say that those who truly love Nature, will find beauty all around them. But, to the woman who never spent a day without fresh flowers in her home, the woman who never neglected a garden and cherished every moment outdoors, she not only found beauty everywhere, but carried it everywhere she went. 

Today, we say goodbye to our dear Nana Lucy: a beautiful woman who loved many and was loved by many more. To those of us who knew her, and ache with her passing, we remember her as a gentle, kind, and sometimes stubborn soul who made the best out of every obstacle thrown at her.

Cross It Off the Bucket List

St. Ignatius Catholic Church in San Francisco, CA

Six years have passed since I last visited this artistic wonder. Reminiscing on the physical and spiritual beauty, while remembering the first time it took my breath away at 18 continues to leave me breathless. God has blessed me with amazing opportunities in life that I will forever be thankful for, including the chance of visiting spectacular sites such as this so early in life.

Having said that, it's an awakening to take a step back into the past and realize how far I've come in these past few years--specifically to realize how much I've changed. The 18 year old girl who first stepped into this church is no where near the one stepping in it today. But I suppose that's one of life's own artistic wonders created by the master painter himself...allowing Him to finish one part of the painting so that we can take a step back to look at the full masterpiece.

Jerusalem, Christmas Trimmings and a New Year

After surviving the end of the world, living through 2012, rejoicing in our Savior's birth and returning to Jerusalem, it's time to take a stab at this neglected blog thing yet again.

So...where do I begin?

At the end of every year, (2009, 2010 and 2011) I tend to look back and reflect on the past lessons I've learned and the new person I've become. Time never ceases to teach me the simple lessons I seem to overlook with ignorance and stubbornness at one point or another. And so, at the end of 2012, there's one thing that time, my fickle friend and bitter enemy, has taught me most of all:

I know absolutely nothing about anything.

I've loved with all that I could and lost more than I wanted; I've grown incredibly close to new friends and created distance between old ones; I've pushed my career further than ever before and lost sight of more important arenas in my life. I've done more and lost more and had no idea what I was doing the whole time. I knew absolutely nothing about my life--and still don't. I just like to pretend that I do.

Point of the story and/or blog post: If you asked me one year ago, "Where is life going to take you this year," I would have failed miserably attempting to answer correctly.

'Tomorrow' Creeped In: One Year Since

Time: fickle friend or bitter enemy?

There's a line from Shakespeare's Macbeth I sadly always enjoy quoting. It doesn't exactly help much either that the play has been lying on my nightstand for the past week, reminding me of the prose hidden inside:

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty place from day to day."

Oh, the pitter patter of time. To vaguely and loosely translate Shakespeare's elegant verbiage into a marriage of two modern cliches: life is short while time flies.

For the non-Shakespearean buffs unlike myself (although I encourage you to familiarize yourself with his works as much as possible), allow me to provide a bit of background on this line without giving any underlying themes or details from the play away. This line derives from a famous soliloquy found in the tragedy Macbeth. Essentially, it is an introduction to a philosophical reflection on life and death that Macbeth contemplates on. With the realization that nobody can defeat or escape death comes the understanding that days sneak past until that fatal day arrives.

Life is, after all, a "brief candle." Shakespeare's analogy, not mine.

I look back and astounded at how much has happened and how quickly it's all passed since last July. Though so many things have changed, including myself, so many things have still remained the same.

Summer Limbo

I don't know about you, but summer always seems to be my "limbo season."

What's that you ask? Well, for some reason, summer always brings about the biggest changes in my life. Don't get me wrong, I love the season; America's Finest City really shines during the summer months.

Maybe it's the "school's out" mentality we grew up with as children. Perhaps it's the lethargic energy that summer heat seems to suck out of me. Or, it may be that I've had some of the best times and worst times during the summer months.

For whatever reason, summer always feels like "limbo."

After all, you have to either go up or down in limbo. I'm praying for some brighter summer days ahead.

The Mishaps of a Graduation

It's official: I am a college graduate. Who would've thought this day would actually come? Not I, that's for sure.

But because God has a sense of humor and enjoys taking it out on my life, I'm going to share just a few of the lovely details of what went wrong on this "special" day. Don't worry, I did have a very nice, memorable graduation--but it just wouldn't have been complete without a few "awkward" moments that probably wouldn't happen to anyone else but me. Don't fret--it wasn't the first "special" day that has gone array, and knowing me, it certainly won't be the last.

The day that something doesn't go wrong will be the day that will truly be "special." 

So, sit back, relax, make some popcorn, and pray that when you graduate from college these things don't happen to you.

Time to Start Something New, Goodbye to SDSU: A Look Back Before Graduation

On my way to my last class at SDSU, I couldn’t help but chuckle and reminisce on my very first freshman class on campus in a neighboring building. Boy, how times have changed. Fresh out of high school, I remember the excitement of waiting in line at Starbucks (the early days of my coffee addiction), walking to class with coffee in hand, thinking I was some big college hot shot ready to conquer the world. I can see it now: nose high up in the air with my oversized sunglasses, pretending I had some clue of what I was doing while imagining I was a Harvard collegiate genius on the sunny streets of San Diego. I dreamed and ignorantly believed that the next four years would be pure perfection, because hey, that’s what college was supposed to be.

I still remember it; I still remember myself back then, who I was and who I thought I was. But that was then and this is now. Four years later, on the foot of my graduation, I realize how much I’ve changed, how much I’ve grown, how things are different, and how some things are exactly the same.

And just as quickly as that first day went by, today will soon be gone, but hopefully not before I can record it on this blog. There are a couple of things I want to share in the few days I have left as I look back on my college experience. So, please allow me to shed some wisdom on what I’ve learned to those who can apply to their own lives, making their college years as close as possible to a freshman’s perception of college “perfection.”  

Birthday Life Lessons from "The Morning After"

Yes sir, it is my birthday. My age? Oh well...it's the 1st anniversary of my 21st birthday. That will be the new counting method around here from now on, just in case you didn't know.

So yes, today is my birthday. Well, technically yesterday was, since I'm writing this post in the wee hours of what is often called, "the morning after." There's a quote from the British poet, Lord Bryon, that I often like to refer to at times like this: "If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad." This line befits tonight more so than any other. And so, here we are..."the morning after" my 1st anniversary, writing to ensure I don't go completely bonkers.

It's funny. With every new year (and every new birthday, or in my case, anniversary) comes many new realizations about the people in my life and the relationships I hold dear. The people who want to be there, who love you enough to care, will do all they can to ensure that you have your one special princess day. It's a process of humility--torturing yourself and embracing humiliation by participating in the embarrassing birthday rituals to please everyone else around you.

Opinions in a Whirlwind

I love opinions; in fact, I think opinions are blessings in disguise and a gift to humankind. They have the power to open people's eyes, enlighten the soul, teach the ignorant, and more importantly, provide insight into the mind and logic of your companion.

However, over the years, I have learned (with a few drops of wisdom shed upon me) that there is a time and place for everything. I'm quite aware that many people in this world have very strong opinions about various different subjects; and over the years, I've also learned that people will not always get along.

Though it may seem like an elementary principle, I think it's an idea that people so easily forget. Man was not meant to get along with everyone or to agree upon everything--think of how boring the world would be. However, man was not meant to be cruel and unreasonable to his brother either, especially over a difference of opinion.

Negligence

I have, by any and every standard, neglected my child. If Child Protective Services existed in the blogosphere and was informed of my carelessness, I would be considered an irresponsible and unfit parent. So, I apologize to my readers (if there are any), and I apologize to my baby (this blog).

I should scorn myself for unconsciously (or shamefully purposely) ignoring this blog and "forgetting" to write. What can I say, it's been a rough couple of months.

But, as it is Christmas day, and a new year is about to begin, it appears that it's time for a reflection of the past year. I'm thankful for much, regret very little, and hope for much more in the upcoming more. But importantly, I'm blessed to have the most amazing people in my life. What can I say, God has a lowly daughter in more ways than one.

Goodbye 2011, hello 2012. Here's to hoping this year is even more amazing than the last.

Morning from Hell

Damn my forgetfulness.

Only I would drive 45 minutes to school (because of annoying morning traffic), only to realize I forgot my paper sitting in the printer. Oh, you know, the one I spent all night writing. Because my forgetfulness first began when I neglected to upload my paper into Google Docs, I had to drive back home to receive it, OR, get an incomplete.

So, I ran back to the parking structure, got in my car, started driving only to eventually be stuck in construction traffic, arguably worse than rush hour. Upon driving BACK to school (paper secured safely next to me!), the "Feed Me" gas sign my car likes to flash when its hungry turned on. And of course, because my life sucks, I could not find a parking spot when I arrived to school. I crossed my fingers my car wouldn't stall right then and there as I followed someone to their car to steal a parking spot.

I finally got to class 15 minutes before it ended.

And that, my friends, is the morning from Hell.

Fishy Business

I have a friend who occasionally likes to call me a "shark" because of the blunt, yet truthful, comments I tend to make. Well, if I am a shark, then that would explain why I can smell fish around me when they screw up...

And today, I smell something fishy.

So, please allow the blunt shark to give you "sneaky" individuals some sound advice so that your fishy smell can sneak off my radar:

1. Learn how to swim...correctly: If you're going to lie to me, or to anyone else for that matter, at least lie right. When you get caught up in your own net of lies, well, lets just say you're not the fastest fish in the sea.
2. Don't fall for the fish bait: There aren't just sharks in the sea, there are fishermen too. So, beware the traps that people set up for you, because when you're too dumb to realize that you've just been caught, you're pretty much dead meat...or dead seafood. That's how my dad caught these. Well, the fishermen caught them; I think he just watched and attempted to help. (Don't tell him I said that.)
3. "Fish are friends, not food:" Unless, of course, your friends rat you out. Then they might as well be food to all the other sharks out there.
4. SWERVE!: Stuck in a pickle? Or in this case, an oyster....? Own up to it and admit your mistake.

Now, there's a very logical way for all you fish to avoid being eaten alive or served on a platter at Red Lobster instead of following these not so helpful tips: BE TRUTHFUL from the very beginning. There's no reason for fishy business if you tell the truth from the start. I promise, it's not that hard, and a lot less painful for everyone. And why would you want to be a fish when you can be a person? Just saying.

Stop trying to swim a fast one on everyone for such stupid reasons. I mean, hey, if you can avoid being a fish, then there's no reason to release the sharks.

The Sinful Art of Criticism; The Blessed Chance to Critique

Criticism is good for the soul. I have and will always support this theory. How, may I ask, do you ever wish to improve yourself, your situation, or your expenditures without seeking advice or the opinions of others? It takes a prideful fool to condemn the advice and opinions of his peers, and therefore, I urge us all (including myself) to embrace constructive criticism for all the glorious and positive influence it may have.

But often times, people take things a little too far. Sometimes we must beware the sinful art of criticism and remember that giving your opinion is merely a blessed chance to critique. Contradictory? Well, please indulge me a little and allow me to explain.

Some of you may already be associating this post to my previous one on this blog, and though they are somewhat unconnected, I must say that the reactions and events that have occurred within the past few weeks, related and unrelated to Mr. Crook and my cousin, have driven me to discuss the matter at hand. In fact, people's reactions to what Mr. Crook had to say with such crude language disgusted me as much as Mr. Crook himself. I understand that I too could not hold in my frustration towards such an insecure and ignorant man...but I would never bring myself down to his level through childish means. Much has changed in the past month, and the more my eyes are opened and my ears widened to see how people critique and hear the diction they choose, the more I find propriety and common courtesy breached in inappropriate manners when expressing opinions. I, in no way, am wise enough to offer sound advice on how to criticize. However, my conscience does feel obliged to warn the few interested enough to listen.

Criticism, in many ways, is a blessed privilege, a great opportunity, and an inspiring process to agree or disagree with a friend or stranger, both personally or professionally. In my opinion, there are only a few ways to abuse this blessing and transform it into a sinful art: blatantly disregarding human emotions, speaking from ignorance and immaturity, and using foul language as an act of anger and frustration. Diction seems to be my prime concern, as I've grown to loathe people who abuse the English language with distasteful, foul four letter words, and degrade their opinions to nothing more than an emotional, uneducated rant.

Throughout my 21 years of observation, I've sadly found that this applies to my friends, my acquaintances, my critics, and occasionally even myself. And though I never encourage anyone to act or speak merely out of emotion, here is my small angry rant: cursing to make your voice heard is self-destructive. To those of you who cursed Michael Crook, to those of you who curse each other, to those of you who use f***, b****, sh** and other distasteful slang words to express yourself and your opinions, I ask you to reconsider your word choices. Life is not defined by these words, but rather, your opinions and your voice will be defined to a status unworthy of listening to.

Now, I completely understand that discussing such a sensitive topic instantly puts me in the line of fire for people to criticize me--and if grasping the opportunity to form a few minds forces other minds to condemn mine, than so be it. All I ask is that you do so without cussing up a storm, because although I may be able to navigate through troubled waters, you'll only be proving my point.

Michael Crook: Not That Clever

(In response to Mr. Crook's blog post: http://blog.michaelcrook.org/2011/07/joe-meram-not-that-bright.html)

Dear Mr. Crook,

I do not believe in vengeance.

On the contrary, I find it to be a sad outburst of frustration and anger from a weak man's own misery. Therefore, I do not plan to seek revenge upon you through this post. I do not wish to curse you for the foolish and childish things you have said about my cousin. I do not desire to taint my own elegance and poise by lowering myself to fight you on the subject (though I'd probably win).

No. If I were to do so, I would do nothing but destroy my own credibility and further hinder yours. And if you have any type of journalistic integrity, which I secretly pray you do, then you would know that credibility and respect from both your peers and your readers is essential to creating a well-praised and worthy piece of writing. I have no desire to do such a thing. If you wish to destroy yours, however, that is between you and your pen.

So Mr. Crook, as a fellow blogger, I would like to offer you a few pieces of advice to better your own understanding of the ethical and moral boundaries of the blogosphere. Despite my own hurtful feelings towards your specific post about my cousin, I must say that I am a little disappointed in your professional writing and blogging etiquette in order to express your opinions on the matter. In fact, I am a little curious to inquire whether or not you have had any professional education at all? I mean, I am in no position to boast about my own writing--I am nothing but a student apprenticing my way through life, the blogsophere, and the written word. However, your specific diction and lack of sympathy has sparked my curiosity about your upbringing.

So, to help you with your future blog posts and perhaps to boost your future popularity, please allow me to provide you with some tips to help you become a more likable character and a more creative writer.

First, I must say that your carefully chosen word choices show very little understanding of the English language. Your diction is not well-suited to one that has mastered English. No. Sadly, it seems to be a poor attempt to enhance your writing voice with the use of flowery and big words, in order to sound credible. You chose words such as "stupid," awkward," and "punk," to describe your feelings and reaction to this specific situation. And so, here is my first tip: some words naturally have a negative connotation--avoid using them unless you want to annoy, discourage and agitate your reader.

Now, if you purposely chose those words for their negative connotation, I must say that I am a little disappointed that those were the choices you settled upon. I'm sure with proper guidance you can learn to enhance your vocabulary in a mature manner that will best give you the ability to express how you feel. I'll pray that that wisdom will shed upon you somehow.

Which brings me to my next tip: avoid cliches and be creative. Fail to do so and it exposes the weakness in your writing. Good writing, good blog writing is about finding interesting and unorthodox analogies and metaphors that entice your readers. Don't try to feed them something they've already had before. Remember what I said about enhancing your vocabulary? It's a necessity for every writer, including myself. That alone can help you avoid cliches and unoriginal analogies that you so often use.

Now, if you have ever studied psychology (which I doubt you have), people such as yourself, who seek negative outlets to express their own "opinions," usually do so because their deepest insecurities push them to seek attention. Cliche alert: ever heard of the saying, "all press is good press," including the poor, bad and ugly? Well, when someone's absurd behavior is driven by their inner-most insecurities, they tend to lash out in the oddest and most immature fashions. In fact, that's why children often seek attention by being "bad." Mr. Crook, in no way did I call you a child, but I'll just use your words instead: kids don't usually act out too much, "except maybe for good ol' boys, if you catch my drift."

So, here's a tip: if you would like to feed your own insecurities, by all means continue to pursue vain and cynical writing pursuits. If, however, you would like to better yourself, perhaps it's time to discover the reasons as to why you are the way you are, and why you write the things you do...?

As I said, I am not here to attack you in any malicious way. You have every right to voice your opinion, and I support people doing so with every "breath" of my heart. Keep in mind, however, that there may be someone out there with a much stronger and louder voice than you do. And so, with every "breath" of my heart, I do intend to shout a little to make sure that you can hear me through cyberspace, wherever you and your computer seem to hide. Please forgive me, however, if you hear a little ringing in your ears--my voice tends to do that to people sometimes. Trust me when I say, time will help the ringing stop.

But with any blog or any piece of writing, you will never hear just one voice. No, no. Be prepared to hear many. In case you haven't noticed (which I doubt you have considering your poor investigative techniques), my cousin has a new Facebook fan page entitled, "Rest in Peace Joe Meram" with over 2,200 likes in only 48 hours. With all professional journalistic integrity, I discovered that you have a Facebook fan page entitled, "I hate Michael Crook" with 2,200 likes over a period of God knows how long. Huh. Interesting, to say the least. Perhaps we should go back to our psychological discussion about attention-seeking? But alas, I'll resist.

You see, no one really likes a crook--that's why most end up dying alone in jail cells, not to say that you are one, Mr. Crook. But, there's no easy way to say this: crooks just usually are "not that bright" (your words, not mine).

But, unlike you, I would never judge another human being or their intentions. Though you have seemed to harshly judge my cousin by "arrogantly ignoring common sense" (once again: your words, not mine), I will not do the same for you.

In fact, I encourage no one to do that towards you. Though your words stabbed through my very soul, I only wish you the best and choose to ignore your twisted cries for help by giving you wrongful attention. I ask everyone to refrain giving you that attention, because feeding a passion only makes it burn stronger. That is why I write to help you as you drown in your own misery by offering you advice. I can only hope you take it. I do, Mr. Crook, only wish the best for you.

And so, I leave with you this. I would love one day to stumble upon a fan page that says "I love Michael Crook." However, I can't see that happening in the near future unless you can abide by this last tip: re-read before you post. That's where there's editors in this world. Hey, we all make mistakes, that's why there's erasers on pencils--and so, I'll forgive you for your bitter rant towards a perfect stranger. Just remember, even Charles Dickens made Scrooge remorseful for the things he said and did...it just took him the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come to realize that remorse.

Consider me your ghost, Mr. Scrooge, I mean, Mr. Crook. Consider me your Ghost of Blogging Yet to Come.

With much love and many prayers for your improvement in writing,

Joe Meram's Proud Cousin,

Miss Meram

I ask, Mr. Crook, and others reading this post, that you respect the privacy and sorrow that has filled Joe's family and friends. He will always be loved, cherished and remembered as a smiling young man who lived life with passion.

Please pray for Joe, for all those that his death has affected, for Mr. Crook and other harsh critics, and for all souls in Purgatory.

Hail Mary, full of Grace...

Nice Try

Well, my self-control to abide by my promise to swear off writing in this blog could not constrain my temptations. I guess it was a "nice try," a nice pathetic attempt to suffice old feelings of a harsh reality that I created for myself.

I never thought my own doubts, troubles, and fears would cause a commotion in the dark forest I was trying to walk alone in. I never thought my footsteps alone would awaken the creatures in the dark, ready to block my path and force me to retreat and re-read the warning signs.

Embarrassment, stupidity, anger, and resentment are making me re-trace my steps and walk backwards to the fork in the road, to see once and for all, where the truth really lies. And if the forest's loving creatures block my way to keep me from walking into the darkness, perhaps I'll walk out into to the sunlight for them, and over time, "for them" will be for me. God's loving creatures deserve to be admired in all their beauty and glory, glimmering within the sunlight.

And if, for whatever reason, the sun starts to blind me and the dark shades of the forest entice me, I'll still remain in the sun for them, so that they can experience life in all it's greatness. I'll just wear sunglasses.

Take a Deep Breath, Take a Step Back, and Take a Moment to Realize What You've Forgotten

It seems much too long since I've written a new post--not out of laziness, lack of priorities, or pure animosity, but rather from the absence of inspiration and passion to write something beautiful.

I ask you, my dear friends, why must this always happen? Is it something I'm consistently doing wrong that kills my muse and destroys my love of "art?" Is it something I'm unconsciously doing to mask my insecurities in a hopeless and meaningless way? I just don't seem to understand why I continuously find myself in this situation--angry with both God and myself, discouraged from life, and swearing off my pen and its gift.

Sometimes, inspiration to write is hard to find. But I've learned over the years that the more you try to be inspired, the more you start digging a grave to kill your own writing. Nevertheless, I always seem to end up being my very own crypt-keeper; apparently, I never learn from my past mistakes. The revelation that the villain is truly myself, however, comes only after a graphic battle to unmask my true identity and discover who I am. And by the end of this gruesome fight, I realize that my love lays dying on the floor ready to be buried, and my excitement for life is no where to be found for it fled from war.

And so, after four tiresome, yet rewarding days on an "Emmaus-ing" journey, I've come to the realization that I'm not happy with myself--I'm not proud of where I've been, I'm not pleased with where I'm going, and I'm disappointed with the person I've become. Yet, the zeal to better myself, to improve my situations, to strengthen my relationship with both God and my family, seem to be nonexistent. In fact, the more I seem to examine myself, the more I realize there's not much to really examine. Not because the soul isn't something worth examining; on the contrary, it's by far the most intricately beautiful piece of art that God could ever create. But, my soul and my conscience seems to be falling deeper into a black abyss, and sadly, because of the lies I've been told and the truths I've refused to believe, it continues to fall without the will to bring it back up.

So, it really is time to take a deep breath, take a step back, and take a moment to remember what I've already forgotten. Because there's one truth and one reality...the rest is just a lie. And until I can figure out for myself whether we live in a fantasy world or we live within the truth, my heart will continue to skip a beat. And since my pen, this blog, and my writing lives to be the "breath" of my very heart, I guess it's time to discover what's making my heart lose its breath, and therefore, skip a beat.

And so, my friends, I think it's time to take a step back--not just from this blog, but from many things in my life. Perhaps it's time to set out on my own into the woods and see how far I can fight the darkness on my own. Perhaps it's time to live or die, sink or swim, and see how far life can take me without my safety nets always by my side. After all, what's the point of living if you never step out into the dangers of the wilderness to discover the hidden beauties that lie within the darkness?

I'm not quite sure what this all means--I'm not quite sure where I go from here, or if I'm even making sense to anyone, including myself. I'm not confident that I'm making the right decision, at all, but I need to try. I need to do this, for myself and myself alone, without any of the lies drowning out my ability to discover the truth.

So, here's to truth, the real truth. Here's to discovering what it is and where it hides, and why, for some strange reason, I've never been able to taste it. Let's hope the truth guides me to where I need to go, and if I get lost, gives me the courage to come back home. Here's to the "breath" of my heart, or lack thereof....just for now.

Life

Have you ever really thought about death? Not necessarily the death of others, such as a loved one, but your own loss...the moment where you will one day cease to exist? Have you ever really thought about your own death?

What will you die from? Who will you be at that time? Where were you in your life? Who will be there beside you? But more importantly, what will you regret? What will you look back on and cherish, and what will you look back on with a heavy heart?

These questions have been haunting the crevices of my mind for the past few weeks. I find myself pondering the dark questions surrounding death, uncertain whether they stem from the beginnings of a new year or deeper internal fears just now beginning to surface. When will God take the very breath he gave me and make it be my very last? Who will I leave behind and who would've left before me? Will my loved ones be alright when I'm gone? Will I regret what I've done, who I've been? Or, will I live my life in a way that has prepared me for that very moment where I will leave this world and never come back?

All of this has somehow motivated me to look back and learn from yesterday, cherish today, and hope for a tomorrow.

Perhaps this is just a normal part of growing up. Perhaps this is a normal thought process that comes with maturity, understanding, and a newly discovered passion for life. Perhaps it's a fear for that passion, that rare understanding, and that timely maturity to disappear. Perhaps that fear can lead to motivation.

I have never felt the motivation to live my life right, to live with passion or to live my life to the fullest than I do today. I don't know the origin of this motivation; I'm unsure when this fear began; I'm unaware of the strength of my determination. But, I thank God that I have it.

Live for today. Live for the moment. Take things day by day--and try not look back. And if you can do that and live a life with few regrets...well, death isn't that scary anymore, is it?

Here's to life. Live yours the way it was meant to be lived.

To the year I found my pen...goodbye to 2010.

Well, this has been quite a year. I can't help but smirk when I think about how far I've come, who I became, and what I've learned in the past 12 months. So much has happened, so much has changed...but more importantly, I've changed. Navigating through troubled waters, I reached the calming sea's peaceful rainbow, and for that alone, I will forever be thankful for the year 2010.

I can honestly say that I've grown tremendously in the last year alone, becoming a stronger, wiser, more responsible adult finding her way in this crazy thing we call life. My year, unlike any other, can be traced and understood through my writing. For it shows the ups and downs of my life, discovering moments of both discouragement and inspiration, glorifying the Lord while cursing my gift, and learning who am I and who I'm becoming each and everyday.

And as I reflect on the past year, I become more and more thankful for the heavenly-sent angels that guided me through it all. For if it wasn't for the father's light shining brightly within some of his most precious children, I would have never been able to find my way through the dark.

To the year I found pen...goodbye to 2010.

Here's to 2011...may it feel just like heaven.

The Breath of My Heart

(My SDSU Petition)

Passionless words are dead, because passion brings words to life. William Wordsworth said, “Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart,” as the heart is the key to the soul and writing its sole escape. Our hearts are filled with one of our most precious treasures, our passion; it opens up through our writing and breathes life into words revealing the depths of our souls.

I will not attempt to excuse my discrepancies, as there is no excuse—but a few grammatical errors do not limit my writing capabilities. Wordsworth’s choice of the word “breathings” may be considered grammatically incorrect, though no one would question his diction. It is not the grammar that makes Wordsworth’s writing good, but the passionate words that make them masterpieces.

My heart beats from the power of persistence and its key is my pen. Journalistic strength is a journey, reaching those unable to discover the truth and fueled by constant determination. It is a journey I choose to pursue, revealing the truth to those who cannot find it themselves. This is my passion, my heart’s greatest treasure. This is the breath of my life.

Limbo

Life is a journey--a journey we all must travel. At some points, the road is smooth and easily accessible; but at other points, the path is troublesome and often times discouraging. It's at these points on our path that define us....these moments are our defining moments.

I'm currently going through a troubling time in my life, uncertain of what my future holds for me and not knowing which way to turn. I find myself doubting who I am and where my life's journey will take me. A good friend of mine told me that these moments, moments where we fall and were discouragement enters in our hearts are the times that define us. He said, "this will be your defining moment if you let it...otherwise it will just be a bump in the road."

I'm currently waiting for SDSU to answer my petition and inform me whether or not they'll admit me as a Journalism major.

God, you sure do have a sense of humor. But it's times like this I trust that you know where my journey's end will take me, even if I can't see it.