perspicacious?

Today I have cold feet, and a heart that wanders.
Funny how those can be called the same thing and feel completely different.

For one, I need socks. For the other, I wish I knew.

I have been thinking about happiness- actually, for quite some time now. I have been wondering what it means to be happy, and if its something we get to choose. I’ve discovered that answers to questions such as these are not something that the common culture of our world carries in its back pocket. Not good answers, anyway. This leaves me with a quandary in my heart and qualms in my clenched fists; why does the world pretend to be happy when it knows that it is sad inside? Why do any of us pretend to be things that we are not?

And why aren’t we as happy as we want to be?

I do not know the answers to these questions, but I have been thinking. If I had to make a list, I’d say that the following things have something to do with cultivating happiness:

- Having a sense of purpose.
- Deciding that people are more important than things.
- Believing in something. 
- Balancing life: rest, work, play.
- Loving something other than yourself- especially people.
- Knowing what matters to you and making space for it in your life.

That’s all I got so far. Certainly, it is not  comprehensive list. And although its contents might seem kind of repetitive, and a little like old news, perhaps they are not so well-worn as we might think. It is sometimes the simple things that are most difficult to learn. (She said, feigning great experience.) What do I know, really?

Anyway. This week I have been experiencing the beautiful release from the clutch of busy college existence that is known as Spring Break. Although, I will be honest and say that it has not been the glorious kind of respite that I might have planned. As my friend Erik termed it, I have had quite the “mature” spring break experience, something quite different from my first hope for this week, which was to be in West Palm Florida with my wonderful roommate. Instead of soaking up sunshine on perfect warm sand, I’ve been saturated with reminders of what it means to be human, to grow up, and to value the ones I love. I can’t say that I would have welcomed such an experience if I had been given the choice, but I will say that this week has been deeply meaningful, to say the least.

This week, I have watched as tragedy has unexpectedly placed a family very close to us on a path of great difficulty and sadness. I have seen my parents, and hundreds of others, draw near to these precious people in their time of sorrow, encircling them with open hearts and careful, steady love. I have wondered what to say when the loss just seems too deep and too real to even speak at all, and I have been amazed by the clear, extraordinary way that this family is treasured by the multitudes who know them. And while all of this has been difficult, it has been beautiful in the strangest of ways. When tragedy fell, love came quickly to bear up the brokenhearted, carefully enfolding them in the midst of their pain. 

And watching that was more valuable than any memories I could’ve made elsewhere, I’d say, despite the sad weight it brings to my heart.

Also this week, I get to do my taxes and think about how much money I don’t have.

There are, however good things to be said. For instance, it’s Birthday Season!

Last night was the kick-off event to weeks of presents, cakes, and general all-round celebration. Johnny, although technically born last in the Morgan clan, somehow managed to wrangle the soonest birthday on the 12 month calendar, and so we began the festivities yesterday with the beastliest all-out game of Capture the Flag ever to occur on farm soil. Or at least, that was the intent. What actually happened was more like twenty-something teenagers scrambling through thickets of three-inch thorns and treacherous puddle marshes in solid darkness for two and a half hours until most of us ended up either captured or injured or too cold to run. At that point, parents started showing up and we mutually surrendered. I stand by the belief that my team would have won… eventually.

Anyway. Birthday Season has officially begun. We’ll give J-mo one last hurrah on his big day, Katie goes next and then I bring up the rear four days after that. What this means is that present-planning and party-ideation have begun as well, which leads me to tell you a story.

Coldplay, my favorite band as of several months ago and currently the soundtrack to which I write, is coming in May. May 17th, 2009, at 7:30 PM in the Lakewood Amphitheater to be exact. Somehow, by a cruel turn of fate, I did not know of this until Wednesday afternoon, when I was driving down 85-South and listening to the radio suddenly tell me that they are about to GIVE AWAY two ticket to see COLDPLAY in MAY! All you have to do is be caller 25 when they give the word. My delighted yelping quickly turned into stifled groans of frustration when I realized that my phone was jammed between the passenger seat and side door, thus rendering me helpless to make the call should the time come before I were to reach a stop of some kind. Of course, the time did come, and the phone did not miraculously materialize into my hands, and I whimpered sad-angry sounds alone in my car. It seemed just so cruel. However.

At breakfast yesterday morning, on a whim, I casually mentioned to my father that Coldplay was coming back to town. Strangely, he asked me for details. I told him everything I knew, and threw in “You should take me!” and a daughterly smile. Just like that, I saw him drawing out the idea on the chalkboard in his brain, and watched as the words, “Yeah, I could do that. Buy two tickets and I’ll pay for them,” emerged from his mouth. Gun-shy, I made sure he knew what kind of cash he was gonna be throwing down for this kind of a venture. He paused, reconsidered, and then said it was fine, I should buy the tickets and it would be my birthday present.

And so, now, only four hours after ticket sales opened, we have two seats with our names written all over ‘em, and the high hopes that section 201, row HH will have as great of a view as the website claims it does.

This is all quite a surprising turn of events, to say the least. After seeing Coldplay in November, I sort of resigned myself to probably not getting to go to another real concert for at least a year, if not several. And honestly, that was okay with me; I still believe nothing will compare to that first beautiful experience. I am, however, quite okay with developing new memories to accompany the familiar ones.

So, there you have it. Birthday season is well underway, beginning with quite a bang if you asked me. The other things on my list currently are a decent hair straightener, a pair of Chacos, and a mint chocolate chip ice cream cake. But who doesn’t want those things, really?

What else shall I say?

I’ve been writing poetry lately, for the first time in a long time. It brings a different sense of accomplishment to write a poem rather than a blog, and I feel better as a person when I am doing both, I think, but I find poetry to be an elusive friend at times. Just when I think I can call her on demand, she disappears into the recesses of artistic frustration, and I am left empty-handed. Sometimes, with a little bit of willingness and some persistence, I can convince her to come back around, but there are no guarantees. So, I am grateful for the poems I have been writing, even if they aren’t always things I’d want to release to the general population. I’ll let you know if anything publishable finds its way to the surface.

Hmm. Oh! I found a book hiding in the shelf in my room this week entitled Bloom’s Bouquet of Imaginary Words, which I had intended to be a Christmas present for a good friend several years ago. My friend ended up receiving something else in its stead, and the book has lived a lonely life in the “books I haven’t read yet” section of my shelf. Upon reviewing its contents, however, I remembered that I don’t have such bad taste in gifts after all, and have decided to share some excerpts with you.

So, rather than doing my usual sweep of the dictionary to search out impressive words for you to use in your everyday conversations, here is your unexpected dose of Imaginary Words instead:

Muscellany, n.- a variety of strong stuff

Pillgrimage, n.- a long drive to the pharmacy

Nanagram, n.- one billionth of a grandmother

Nanachronism, n.- granny attends a rave

Shamster, n.- a fake gerbil

and one especially for the Lenten among us,

Snacreligious, adj.- stealing wafers to eat after mass

 I hope you all chuckled at least once. And I hope you will be brave enough to use them in your casual conversations, should the opportunity arise. You know you want to.

And that’s all for me for now. I’m sure I’ll remember something I’ve forgotten as soon as I walk away from the computer screen. It’s okay. There will be other blogs.

As always, thanks for reading. :) Leave me your thoughts; let me know you’re here.