Going Places

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“Dear my closest friend 
I’m writing because 
I miss you so much 
At night I always cry 
The stillness still reminds me 
Of when we first fell in love 
And I miss that so much” -Flyleaf

Do you remember Christmas? I mean really remember. Stop. Think about it. When we were children and counted down the days till we twitched (like…really, way too much sugar for my little girl self) with anticipation at even the mention of the holiday, let alone the actual day. It was big, it was grand, and it was our day, whether or not we were naughty or nice (cause let’s face it…none of us were nice all year) I still remember one time, a moment that will remain in my memory for a lifetime to come, it sticks and is clear as the day it was made. The best kinds of memories. It’s funny, however, the distinct parts we remember, and the ones that drift away. You see we were out, somewhere that has faded in my mind, on Christmas Eve. Everyone was with us, the whole family.
As we drove home I might have whined. ..a little bit about the obvious lack of presents under our ginormous tree (we have a habit of waiting to buy our tree till the very last minute then getting one that is so large it holds about a third of our ornaments….which are not that extravagant anyway, so I guess we make up for it with size) and how it was not fair we didn’t have any and blah blah blah…I cannot believe I was so annoying, I’m never like that anymore..ever (I’m being sarcastic, just so you know) And so of course my parents probably wanted to strangle me and I’m sure my other siblings weren’t peachy either, I forget how many there were at the time, and all in all it was just….ich. So, finally, we arrive at the cobblestone walk of our old blue house (which is really, obviously gray but my siblings and I stubbornly called it, and still do, “the blue house”) and trudge up the steps…to find that the door is just slightly open. Now, my family forgets our shoes half the time let alone remembers to lock the front door, so we sort of just fell through without taking much notice. Until the living room. Ahhh! The tree is lit up and there is a stack, no, a mound of presents perked and ready to be ripped open. And these are not just little, measly ones, no! Some were bigger than me, which I immediately ran to and started jumping up and down saying “please, please, please, paaaaaleaaaase!” with the sweet, doe – eyed look of a girl who knows she was bad just moments ago and realizes that now she must be extra good to get what she wants. Eventually I did get to open them, along with my darling brothers (?) and sister, and it was a wonderful time, for all of us. So wonderous, in fact, that we all woke up before six a.m. ….So lovely, we children are.

To this day we still do not know, or at least none of us kids, how the presents got there. But I thank the elves, the sweet ones with excellent timing, who knew my parents needed relief from our demands and quite draining, innocent oblivion of what was happening, as it was a hard time for us.

Maybe you’re wondering what I’m trying to say, telling you this story…and I’ll be perfectly honest with you….I didn’t have a straight and narrow point to bring across. But I wanted to share my walk down memory lane, my dancing thoughts with you, all the same.
I started this post sitting on a train, my heart in my mouth and my nerves causing my limbs to tremble, and now (having been caught up in the wonderful hospitality of my German family and having a fabulous time I’ve neglected to post, but I hope you realize that the best things I write come from what I live. So I might as well keep living, even if it interferes with my writing) I sit on a big couch with candles lit not far away, half the family sits around me, strewn haphazardly across their own seats, the murmuring of quiet voices soothing to my ear. The TV is on and I catch perhaps one out of ten words that are spoken, but it is relaxing all the same. My heart is full.

Now you see, the writing of this began in an entirely different mindset, and I am partially thrilled, terrified, and sad to say that is so. No matter what, let’s realize, whether change is good or bad…it’s scary. And I’m pretty sure that if I think about exactly how much has changed, really think about it, in the past seven days I’d be entirely overwhelmed. So I’m going to write instead.

Now, so my story doesn’t seem totally random (Pascal, the boy who makes me laugh, says I am very random, but he likes it…but then again he could be lying) let’s think for moment. Do you have one of those memories, or several? Most likely. I don’t know about you but I never want to lose them. No matter where I go. And, you see, that’s just it. We are always going somewhere, whether it’s to the mall or towards our future, and we never stop going, no matter how stubbornly we try to insist on staying right where we are, the poor Universe, having to fight us all the way. But thank goodness something is fighting for us because without that constant push, we would remain exactly as we are. How horrifying. So breathe, look around, live, and laugh. You have time, you have your life, everything is possible. And no I’m not trying to be a motivational coach who’s way too positive and has you wanting to punch them in two minutes, I’m dead serious, so take another breath, and take a step. Just one. One little step, and everything changes. For better or worse it’s yours to decide. And I know (you might be shaking your head right now, telling me I don’t, but I do. Swear. ) “it’s not as easy as all that Gigi” and no, it’s not, but all I’m saying is to inch forward, maybe stop fighting with change and just let go, it doesn’t mean leap into something or change everything it just means…well you’ve stopped fighting it. That’s one step closer to going somewhere.

Oops!…ok so I might have possibly been so beautifully lost in living and laughing and loving for two and a half glorious weeks…that I forgot to write at all. So here I am again, the setting has changed, everything is different. And, once again, I’m pretty scared. But I’m excited too. In three weeks I have been expanded, I have grown, I have dived in and out of experiences with vigor and passion and I have really lived. How many other sixteen year old girls can say the same? I hope billions. Because it’s so important to experience this, a sense of growing while growing up and coming into oneself, of finding the things that leave you with the sense that anything is possible and realizing we are never stuck in any one mindset or dream. Because everything is teeming with possibility. As long as you want it. And I mean really want it. So stick out those bellies and take a big, big breath. Clear your head and shift your thinking. The beginning is as easy as that…..and then it gets harder. But it’s ok, because none of us are alone. I hope you’ll come with me and help me out too, because one minute I’m on top of the world and the next I feel like I’m losing myself in a giant muddy pit of crappy thinking and and self pity. So take my hand, you’re helping me as much as anyone by listening to my thoughts and sharing my experiences. Thank you.

A couple paragraphs ago (and a couple weeks ago) I wrote that I didn’t really know exactly where this post was going. Ahh the beauty of time and change, because now I do.

On Thursday the 26th I crossed the atlantic ocean for the second time in my life, stepped off a plane, and into the beginnings of my future. And I was crying. What. A. Girl. I was overwhelmed by so many emotions I seriously felt like I was going to shutdown. Nine and a half hours is way too long to be left alone with ones thoughts. But it’s also perfect, cause there is absolutely no running away. And that’s all I wanted to do, drown myself in movies and media and never sit and just think. And I did that for a couple hours…and then I stopped, I closed my eyes, and I took and breath. …And I cried again remembering the beautiful journey I had. Whether it was sipping coffee in Paris or screaming on the sidelines of a fußeball tournament in Germany (like….scary, I went a little crazy and lost my voice. Pfff and I used to say I didn’t care about soccer…) I feel bad for the happy couple that was sitting next to me (the woman was constantly giggling and looking at her husband with literally starry eyes and the man was watching monsters university on his ipad….it was adorable) as a few times they looked over at me as if to say “we’re so happy, we wish you were too”. They’ll never know and I’ll probably never see them again, but in that moment they did cheer me up. For about ten minutes.
So…that was about the longest nine and a half hours of my life, but I’m thankful all the same. I didn’t find inner peace or some deep words of wisdom, but I found what I needed. As I stepped off the plane a felt a huge sense of purpose and excitement….and (guess what?!) possibility. I love Europe and I hope it loves me back, I think it does, and someday I’m going to be there, living in Prague, strolling in Scotland, dancing in Spain. And of course laughing in my first sweethearts Germany and Paris. I’m going to grow and shift and dazzle and find Glamor in everything. As I’m going to do now, at home, in the snow, on the beach, surrounded by a family that is crazy and awesome and loving all tangled into one giant (literally) bundle. Oh how I missed the screaming and the kicking, the kisses and “I love yous”, and the many hearts beating with such big feelings and dreams.
This is home. Not a place, but an experience, a feeling. You see my sadness doesn’t come simply from the wonderful people I’ve left behind but from the continent itself, the lifestyle, the beauty. I realize now that every time I went somewhere in Germany I always thought of leaving to “go home”, and it truly felt like home, arriving to Isabel, the mom, who insisted on buying me socks the minute she realized I had not brought enough, or Luis, the little boy who reminded me so much of my own brother, who teased and played with me till I felt so comfortable I was perfectly able to be me. Which I really hope didn’t totally overwhelm everybody….I can be pretty exuberant when I’m so completely happy.

And so I’m taking it with me, I’m taking the language (for after only two weeks I wanted to squeal with delight every time I realized I understood what someone was saying!) the joy, the music (I get access to a fabulous DJ from Germany now) and the excitement for every other time to come.

So you’re probably sitting in some place that’s become kind of uncomfortable after reading for so long….thinking that, after all, I didn’t find a point to write about. Oops again. But you see, I did. There’s like…a lot of things I said in the last paragraphs and they probably don’t all blend together perfectly, written in the course of several weeks, but I hope that after all of it you understand. Because I do. Finally. I’m so excited to go home to little town New Buffalo, to dance with the passion I’ve gained, to see everyone and tell the world how big I am. How ready. For everything. I have been sad, and I am grieving leaving the sparkling lights of Paris and the beautiful vineyards of Germany, but the point is that instead of letting that bring me down, of sinking into the missing and the loss, I’m going to let it add to my knowledge and experience as I plunge forward into the future I am so excited to live.

Going places.
Where are you going?
Do you know?
I hope not, because sometimes that’s the best part, not knowing. Whether it’s not knowing what sweet soul blessed your family with gifts so many years ago, or not knowing (sometimes in a way that is so scary it hurts) what will be in your future…All you need to know is you are wonderful, beautiful, and you are going places and each day it’s your choice to have those places be bigger and better. It’s all up to you. And I mean…life and chance too…but I promise, you have a voice. So use it.

Let’s go. Let’s dance. Let’s live.

No goodbyes for me as this New Year approaches, only hello to what’s next and see you next time.

My New Years resolution is to live. What’s yours?