a blogging we will go

Months seem to flow as quickly as my morning cup of coffee. into my dazed mind. Each day becomes a regular routine reaching for some spout to pour out the mundane with the seemingly significant notes tantalizing each bud of sipped sensation. And yet, those minor keys seem unnoticed by the masses due to my poor marketing schemes. Everything stays compacted within my mind's eye and never meets the moment to stain another journal page. So, it's time to find a new brew and a blogging we shall go. Maybe then, I will pay attention to my life and learn to share it with others, even if I am the only one that reads this thing.
Currently, I am transitioning between one life to another. I am not dying, though that is somewhat relevant. Instead, I am moving from La Grange Park to Aurora and turning in my days as a nanny into a something with an official title: The Intern. Some relationships have tried on Romanticism but came out as folly. Those are days I am ready to exchange but bear the temporal shifted puzzle to try and fit my jagged piece back into the friend zone. It seems like life has become a mulling of tasty spices covering the same old juice. The familiar fades away into the old as the new prepares to find that it will not be as different as before. And this equivocal exchange I hope and despise within the next sip of chilled coffee that cost too much for beans and juice.
For the past couple of years, my life became easily defined by the plans I set each day. Mostly, these plans were my established routine created to push me through working long hours and completing sometimes the most boring schooled hours of my life. I planned to literally work my way through school because I knew that it had to be done. Backing this old school form of Germanic duty that runs deep in my father's Lutheran theology books that I spent endless hours pouring over words spit up by Luther, my sense of duty turned all sense of living into something subhuman.
Two summers ago, I sat in my apartment bedroom knowing that I was about to embark on a routine with no prospective man-centric relationships. Nor would I be flouncing about Europe with my most artistic friends. And despite my mother's greatest wishes, I would not be moving into my newly prized remodeled home on some west coast shore. On top of that, every one's life would move on in as slow or as quick as mine, but we would be moving transparently without notice of each of our daily lives. I sat there on that matted sandy carpet knowing that my life looked upon a voided future as books and class notes would soon unleash their power to fill the various empty caches. Crying for one last time, I stood up to become the girl that sits here wondering what good entered my days in Chicago. I miss the South, but need time here to have one last sip that I forgot to take when I was drunk.
The thought breaking me back into a possibly more socially interactive realm amongst friends, family, and colleagues moves me in hope. However, the pulsating vein of this thought recognizes that new life circumstances never takes me far from the last beat of my life. Yet this wearily routine duty spent years clinging to any sight of something new. I believe that is what hope does when it is needed most. It pushes toward change. And this change is not a mere progression. Hope recognizes the present and spends time leaping beyond to the necessary unknown. In that thought, I would piss off Kierkegaard and comfort him in the same breath.
This next year, I am not entirely sure of what I hope for. But like this moment as the rain comes pouring down from a quiet sky, and a father scrambles back with his young children and stroller to find shelter; I can see exactly what I want. I want to risk the storm's force but know that I always have shelter in something really existing. I hope that God hears us though I find him hard to hold onto when I am sleeping. I hope that I have something moving me from my heart that transcends this shell of a woman. I hope that I want more than I can imagine because ministry does more than deal with life, it leads to new life. And all along this hopeful journey, a blogging I shall go.