I have started, stoped, edited, changed, deleted, and restarted this entry several times over the course of this semester. The closer it gets to the end of the semester, the more I feel like I need to write something to try and capture part of this before it is gone. It also gets a lot harder to put that something into words--nothing I write ever seems quite accurate enough to capture what exactly I am feeling right now. No combination of words ever seem to be able to explain all the things this semester has taught me. A list of all the things I have experienced could never include all of the things I am grateful for.
This semester was pretty much the exact opposite of what I was expecting it to be and all of it only strengthened my belief that an unwritten life it the best kind.
With Thanksgiving under my belt, Christmas just around the corner, and the weight of the last week of school right on top of me I find myself thinking...a lot--but come on, what's new? It's not that the fact that I am thinking is so out of the ordinary, but the way I am thinking is what surprises me. Instead of trying to take the parts of my life I think I need, and doing all I can to make it work with what I have, I've discovered it's a lot easier if you just let life happen around you and let things fall into place where they really should be. If i can just take care of the big things: school, church, homework, calling, scripture study... the rest will fall into place.
Friday, December 3, 2010
|When I have Fears that I may cease to be|
|WHEN I have fears that I may cease to be|
|Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,|
|Before high pil`d books, in charact'ry,|
|Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;|
|When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,||5|
|Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,|
|And feel that I may never live to trace|
|Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;|
|And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!|
|That I shall never look upon thee more,||10|
|Never have relish in the faery power|
|Of unreflecting love;—then on the shore|
|Of the wide world I stand alone, and think,|
|Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.|