The past few weeks have been filled with the same old routine. I’ve been too comfortable, too happy– and lacking something. I was telling a friend how bored I am with the familiarity of Austin. How I know the ins and outs of the city and how I’m craving for a new exploration. I’m discontent with my present being, as much as I love my school and my life. Things are truly great here, and I’m not taking it for granted. I thank God for each and every blessing that I receive over and over again, knowing I’m not deserving of any of it. It seems I almost wish to have a life worse off than the one I have now. I know that sounds horrible and condescending of those less fortunate than me, but I am looking for something that seems to only be found with humbling myself. How to do this, I do not know. All I know is that I’m full of thoughts, ideas, feelings and emotions not made for paper. I struggle to find the words to explain the fullness yet emptiness, the thirst and hunger for something meaningful, something substantial and not superficial, for the supernatural and the unknown. My soul is in need of this thing, this thing that is beyond human understanding and capability of analyzing or dissecting. God placed something on my heart that I can barely decipher, but I plan on living out this mystery I call my life.
Talk about the Fourth Estate is at an all time high with the reunion this weekend (that I missed) but I’m brought back to those first feelings I had when I landed back in Austin. I think about the things we learned, from changing our consciousness to learning how to innovate and not imitate, the question of “it’s not where is God but where are God’s people?” and speakers telling us that we are the lights of hope, that the youth have to take back the power and it is up to us to change humanity and that in the end, it all shall be well. We are and will be on the mountain top until our life’s mission is complete.
“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.” -JFK
I’m sitting on the patio of a friend’s apartment on a cool breezy night listening to Fear by OneRepublic looking back on all that I’ve experienced these past few months. It’s been a blur. It’s been a blessing. And I’m absolutely ready and prepared for more.
