The Things I Know to be True

Why is it that when I need to write the most I forget that I am a writer? Why is it that I forget that it is my voice that has always been my power? Why is it that I forget that when things get complex I simply need to listen backwards to act forwards? Maybe the other voices are too loud. Maybe I simply forget that it is as simple as creating a word document and that in that white space and 84 keys my life’s fog dissipates.

I am a writer. My blog saves my life by preserving my voice. In here I am the true me. The authentic Amy. Ready to talk, listen, read, and remind.

I want to write about expectations. About how people choose to see you through the lens of what and who they are as opposed to who you actually are. About how if you aren’t careful you will start to believe that who they think you are is what you actually are. About how easy it is to live someone else’s expectations of you and how because they want to be you, they will try to convince you that you are them. And you are not. About how it is a kindness to them to mute yourself but in that muting you can easily forget the sound of your voice. Lose your plan.

I want to write about running shoes. I ran for a long time. I started when my brother left and continued until I had deteriorated the cartilage in my knees. I ran to think. And to breathe. And to find my voice in the rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement. My shoes represented freedom and health and life and discipline. My shoes represented both who I was and who I wanted to be at the same time. They were all I needed when things got rough. They both tied me down and set me free.

I want to write about men. About silly ones and cowardly ones and ones that act like girls and ones that act like men. I want to write about men that surprise me. And men that are exactly what they seem to be. I want to write about how good men go bad and how sometimes moving across the continent is the best way to see that: yes, he was hiding something and it was pretty terrible. Dodged a bullet, again. I want to write about young men that make me question my wings and old men that make me cringe when they touch me.

But I don’t think that I am going to write about any of these things. Not because I don’t have alot to say about any one of them but because I do. I think what I will write instead what I know to be true. In this moment, in this space in time, here is what I know:

God is love.

He loves me.

Love is the most powerful thing in the universe.

Mothers love no matter what.

It’s ok to fly.

It’s ok to fall.

It’s ok to fly again.

In being a part of nothing people will want to make you a part of their everything.

But you can’t do both.

I am a good roommate but a bad boarder. I need my home to be a haven not a hostel.

I have itchy feet that need new adventure to be scratched.

True love happens so frequently it’s ridiculous. But it’s still a miracle.

True love usually happens outside of romantic relationships.

Babies. Babies are true.

Next time I should pick the nice guy.

Be patient and stick to the plan.

When Jehovah says no on a guy, take the no.

Messi is messy. Messes are gross.

There are plenty of guys.

Call your mom.

Call your dad.

The kids will be fine.  

Don’t get into a relationship with a guy that lives with his mother. Mothers and sons have interesting relationships, especially if there are no daughters around. It’s like a queen bee and subjects that you will never shake. No queen bee wants another queen bee around. Especially if they still live at home as adults. Walk away.

Being content is not mutually exclusive to following the bigger plan.

Sometimes you still have to jump.

Love yourself.

This is what I know to be true tonight. That and the fact that I still love the blog. I will walk away tonight a little more (a lot more) centered, reflective, calm and ready to take the next days steps with power and grace. I think I am going to set a quarterly reminder in my phone to blog. Or a note that says, “Don’t forget that you are a writer. Go write.”

Yeah, I’m going to do that now. Well, as soon as I post this.

Dewb