A day

It's gray outside; another blurry day. A day where anything could happen, good or bad. A day where I am tired again and I want to take a nap. I woke up at 7 and walked to the bank. Had breakfast at Small World and a small decaf coffee in a glass mug. I met up with a friend and she told me how her world shifted completely in a matter of one day. Her dreams of being in the Olympics were shattered after one race. Everything she'd been working towards was for nothing. For nothing? Maybe not nothing. But now she is picking up everything and leaving to Seattle. Taking a road trip clear across the country. She might not even come back.

Something seemed different about her. It was like she was humbled a little bit. Suddenly she wasn't as cheerful as she normally was. Suddenly she doesn't have her whole life figured out. I sip on my bitter coffee as she tells me these things. She smiles and laughs and tries to get it off of her shoulders. But they still look heavy and weighted down. She tells me that she is at peace and that she knows God is in control. I wonder if she really is at peace. She seems kind of disturbed about everything.

We are never really in control, are we? We think we are, and then something unexpected happens to us. We should be used to it by now, but we aren't. When something is out of my control, I go straight into defensive mode. I catch myself crossing my arms across my chest, hiding inside of my own skin. I start thinking of alternatives and ways to fix things. I come up with someone to blame. I look in every direction besides up. And He's the one who is testing us, isn't He? He's the one putting us through it all to make us better and to help us grow. So why can't I trust Him and why can't I pray to Him?

Anything can happen in a day, and it scares me. I have to think through things before I actually do them. I always plan out in my head before executing. I don't make decisions until I've made a pro/con list. Why? Because I'm scared of bad things happening. I'm afraid of what could happen. What's the point in living this way?

-hl

i'll write more later.

i just found this and thought it was really funny.

miss you.

Life kind of reminds me of a mixed CD.

Dear Hannah G,

Just thought I'd put it out there that I freaking miss you. Will you come visit me in Princeton? I need a Hannah fix.

Anyway, I've been loving the fact that when I check our blog, there are actually blog posts more often than not! We're actually writing. Remember when we used to have massive writer's block disease? I don't know if there's time for that anymore. There are so many things to say now for some reason.

One thing I have to say: I think Taylor Swift and Adam from Owl City should get married. They are both living in fairy-tale land anyway, so I think it'd be perfect.

Another thing: That book you're reading sounds really interesting. I would love to read it when you're done!! The thing that got me the most was under "Symptoms of failure to bond." Excessive caretaking? Why would that be under failures? I mean, anything that is excessive isn't good, but why would caretaking be a bad thing? I'm not sure if I have this down (which is why I would like to read the book), but I think what they're talking about is spending all of your energy taking care of other people and yourself. Am I wrong? Assuming that I have this right, excessive caretaking would be bad because instead of focusing on your own relationship with God and letting Him hold you together, you're spending all of your time taking care of yourself or someone else. Maybe caretaking helps us hide from our problems instead of facing them with God's strength. We aren't supposed to be super humans, though. We are supposed to look to God who is the ultimate Caretaker.

Being in Princeton is showing me so many things. Not only am I paying to live on campus, but I am paying for food. I'm paying for everything, actually. I bike to the grocery store, I cook my own food every night. I go to work, I babysit, I teach lessons. Even though I'm still in a silly dorm, I am more of an adult than I've ever been. For the first time in my life I said no to crawling back home and retreating to underneath the covers of my bed upstairs...next to my parent's room. NO MORE. I must start being a grown-up. And let me tell you: I have never been so carefree. This is one of the most carefree summers of my life. Regardless of the cost of living, regardless of work, teaching for the first time, taking care of babies. All the while attempting to record a CD this summer.

The fact that I am trying to be on my own can be a little stressful. I could go home at the end of June and save money, stay at home, sleep in everyday, walk my dog, play with my kitty, watch numerous episodes of Grey's Anatomy and Wizards of Waverly Place, and swim at the pool and "babysit" a girl who is almost 13. But as Owl City says, "Ponderosa canopy, I'd never leave if it were up to me." Side note: Amber Rose made me a copy of Owl City's new album. I love it.

I mean...I do plan on leaving for a week or two in July. Then I will get to play with Boogie.
He's so cute.

Anyway, that's all for now! Keep writing music Hannah! I want to hear some of your new stuff! I am recording my new song on Saturday. It will complete the 5 song CD that will be coming out soon, hopefully.

I love you! Visit me! Muah!

Hannah L

the art of the mix CD

Right now, I am in the middle of making a mix CD for a friend. It's been a while since I've done this, and I realize that I've forgotten why I love making mix CDs for people that I love.

It's an art form, really. You put each song on the CD for a reason, whether it's a special song between you and that person, or because it is a song you know they haven't heard before and you know they'd like it. You also have to make sure that the songs are in the right order, that it flows. It's kind of like a story - you have to make sure to start with something catchy, and then the intensity of emotions comes in waves as the plot goes on. The last track is extremely important - it kind of sums up the whole thing.

Something that I usually like to do is write little comments next to each track on the list of songs. It makes it so much more special when the person takes the time to do this, that he or she took the time to think it through.

i.e. "11. Your Hand in Mine by Explosions in the Sky - I think this is what a sunrise sounds like."

I once had a close friend who would do this with every mix CD he gave me and it was so special for me. He and I are strangers now, and it makes me kind of sad when I listen to the CDs every now and then.

I hope one of my songs will end up on someone's mix CD someday. That would be cool.

Alone time vs. Isolation

Loved your last entry, Larson. You need to write a book about it...

I guess you kind-of-sort-of did. A chapter, or maybe a synopsis of it.

That part about the taxi driver... people keep saying that: "Now is the time." And you're right that he's right. Even though we're young, we don't know how many more breaths we're going to take. We really won't find rest from the restlessness UNTIL we go for it.

I've been kind of realizing that during these past few weeks here in Charleston. It's been exhilarating, challenging, eye-opening, all these things that I didn't foresee about this trip. And I'm grateful for it, even the parts when I just want to go home and pet my dog. I've been inspired and challenged by the art that I've seen here and the artists that I've met. I just can't let this summer pass me by... again. I won't let it.

A good friend of mine here at Spoleto lent me a book called "Changes That Heal" by Dr. Henry Cloud and it's helped me to see some things about myself that I just wasn't aware of. It took me a few days to actually crack it open because I was afraid of what I might find in the pages. I finally opened it today and lo and behold... those words were meant for me.

To be honest, there have been many times, mostly in this past week that it's been so difficult to be around the people here. And really, it's not anything they're doing intentionally to bother me. They haven't been mean to me. If anything, they've been so caring and looking out for me. But for some reason, I've been on edge and just couldn't be around them. Anything they said or did annoyed me. Even though I'm surrounded by people, I feel... isolated. Maybe it's because I'm a girl and maybe it's almost that time of the month... but maybe it's more than that. Maybe it goes deeper, why I feel so lonely even though I'm not alone.

The chapter I opened up to was titled "When We Fail to Bond." My initial thought: Here we go again. I'm tired of this self-help, self-realization, self-discovery crap. What's wrong with me? Why do I feel this way with people? Like I can't connect?

Some of the titles and subtitles in the chapter:
Symptoms of failure to bond:
depression
addiction
distorted thinking
emptiness
fears of intimacy
fears of unreality
rage
excessive caretaking
fantasy

That's me...

Some more titles and subtitles in the chapter:
Barriers to bonding - distorted thoughts
"My neediness will overwhelm everyone."
"My need for others is not valid."
"No one is trustworthy."
"People will always leave me."
"People will disapprove of me."
"People will control me."

All of the above. Check.

I could go on and on but I won't. All this to say that I discovered that it's okay for me to say that I need people. Alone time is healthy, but not all the time. We were designed to be in relationship, so anyone that tells us that we shouldn't be dependent on each other because that means we're weak - they couldn't be further from the truth. I guess I always thought, especially at our school, that being alone, being independent meant that you were so much stronger than anyone else.

Wrong.

I don't have to be Super Hannah, who is always super-nice who is super-patient and super-independent. I can just be... Hannah.

And you can just be... Hannah.

We can just be.

summertime at school (why am I here)

Funny story.

So it's the end of the school year, and I pack up all of my belongings: clothes, shoes, curtains, rug, lamp (what's left of it), desk stuff, and bedding into IKEA bags. I haul them out of good old Dayton 106 into my new dorm. My room has an extra little window strip and my bed is too tall for me to sit on...I have to get a running start every night to make it up there. There is a pretty nice view of a field and trees outside my window. The room doesn't fit my stuff though! Even though it is bigger and even though mom took home half of it already (including Kevin). Kinda hard for me to understand.

The dorm has a different feeeeeel about it. Different roommate, different neighbors, full of people taking summer classes, more late nights, less practicing in practice rooms, more ABC family and Harry Potter movies running in the lounge. The room next to me has the most obnoxious door that gets stuck on the hinges every time it opens and slams shut every time it closes. AND FOR ONE THING I am on the BOYS side of the hall. The boys' bathroom is nicer than the girls'. The girls' bathroom has seizure inducing lights that flicker and make constant buzzing sounds. The showers are secluded in a small corner next to a door that you can't go into or out of. Like a horror film waiting to happen.

I settle in my stuff and everything stops around me. What do I do now. The sky has been overcast for seven days. I am stuck somewhere I don't want to be. I don't know why I ever came to the conclusion that I should be here for the summer. I'm kind of lonely and I need to be somewhere new. I need to travel, I need to write music, I need to perform, but instead I'm in Ithaca 105 for the summer. Wow.

Okay...so then I head out to my new babysitting job (found me on SitterCity.com hah!) The grandmother who is VERY young in spirit picks me up. She has zebra striped glasses and straight blonde hair with bangs. She speaks with a German accent and is over enthusiastic about the fact that I go to Westminster. We drive up to a big white cottage house with a red barn and I head inside. Two kids run up to me screaming happily. Madelaine, the girl, is 3 years old and her brother Vincent is 5. Cutest. kids. ever. Brownish-blonde hair and dark brown eyes. Vincent says hello in German, and I look at him, confused. "I'm from Germany!" he says. "Come on! Let's go build a fort!" He pulls me by the arm and Madelaine runs ahead, a Dalmatian, two Labs, and a speckled looking Beagle of some sort follows behind me. This is going to be interesting.

I spend the next four days with these kids. 30 hours and some of the most chaotic experiences of my life. Including but not limited to a European party, their mother being rushed to the hospital, a miscarriage, a frantic German father, Madelaine falling asleep in my arms, bedtime stories, playing hide and seek with Vincent, Barn dances, American flags, roasted pig and toy guns, cranky kids, being offered a bottle of Jack Daniels at the end of it all. I felt like a nanny in a movie. It was insane. They payed me extra and I gladly accepted.

I take a cab home on the last day and the cab driver and I talk about life. He asks me where I want to be in ten years and I think about it and say, "I want to be on the road, touring." He says, "Hey! You should try out for American Idol or something." "Ehh...I don't know. I've thought about it before but I think it'd be too much pressure," I said. "Well, it'd be character building. Why not go for it? Go after what you want before life passes you by. I'm turning 47 this year!" Oh my gosh, Hannah. He is so right. Maybe not about American Idol...but DEFINITELY about going for it.

Moral of the story: need apartment. no kids for long time. cab driver says try out for American Idol.

post portfolio traumatic stress disorder: day 1

This morning I woke up confused, my heart racing. I had one of the most disturbing dreams of my life. I tried to explain it to you when I woke up, but none of it made any sense. Sigh. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. Still bothered, I decided I should eat something for the first time since two days ago. Thinking about the possibility of having to answer ANY question about ANY topic IN THE WORLD by the Music Education faculty didn't make food very appetizing.

I had peanut butter toast and bananas for breakfast and headed over to the library. Now I'm sitting here in my favorite spot: the orange plaid chair by the window with the heater that I put my feet on.

I feel like I am not fully planted on the ground, and that there is something or someone behind me. I keep checking my phone to see what time it is in case I forgot about something I needed to do. This is really weird. Should I keep practicing my speech and keep studying my Critical Pedagogy flash cards? Just in case, I still have my notes up on Microsoft Word. I still have a map of Libya Googled on my computer.

What do I do now? Well I mean...I do have my theory project, theory exam, race class and gender paper and voice observation papers. but those seem like a piece of cake.
What about after those things are over?

My eyes are REALLY sensitive to light for some reason. Did I become a vampire? I'm looking kind of pale too..

the forgotten.

My friend posted this trailer on my wall:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ctyX5ItSQ

This is what came out afterwards:

How could I have forgotten you?
All the stories that have never been uncovered
That only those who took the time to stop and look, knew about.
Something moved within me this morning
Watching those images.
My old self woke up somehow.
Knowing that I have to do something about those who are cast out these days,
Those who are unloved,
Those who are told they have no place in this world,
Those who are devalued,
Those who are forgotten.

I made it a point not to forget the forgotten,
But that is exactly what I've done.
I'm sitting here,
I'm supposed to be studying for a test,
But how can I when I know that you are suffering,
That you are held in captivity,
That you are being beaten,
That you are isolated,
That you are walked past,
That you are hungry, thirsty, naked,
That you've been forgotten.

But you are forgotten no longer
For I will come find you.
I will come find you so that I can
Hold you,
Feed you,
Clothe you,
Tell you that you are worth more than anything of this world,
Give you a chance,
Love you.
Let me not worry about myself being forgotten,
But let me intentionally seek out those who are.

This is what we were made for.

silent library.

Hello Larky!

Hope all is well on this gray rainy day.

I'm sitting at the library actually doing my homework... can you believe that? I can't. Bahahaha.

People are so funny, Larson. Maybe it's just me. Or maybe not. I'm at one of those table in the back and there is a dude working on his laptop at the table to the left of me. About 15 minutes ago, an elderly couple and a middle-aged woman sat in the group of chairs to the right of me. Now, I know I shouldn't be eavesdropping, but how can you not when people are sitting 5 feet away from you? I don't think it's possible. Maybe if you're Yoda.

Anywho, the couple and the women were (are) obviously talking about some serious family issues. I don't really know because I tried not to listen too closely, but from what I've heard, that's what I can conclude. Now, if it were me, I don't think I'd come into a library to talk about issues and stuff - people are reading and studying, plus, I don't want the world to hear about my private life - but perhaps this was the only quiet place they could find in Princeton. They were talking kind of loud, so I just put my headphones on so I could focus on my work. I guess I'm kind of used to it because of the organ practice rooms and people being loud late at night. So it wasn't that big of a deal to me. But, I knew it was only going to be a matter of minutes until the dude sitting to the left of me would say something.

He said politely (I thought), "Say, do you think you could talk at the cafe? Some people are trying to study." Then, the middle-aged woman to the right of me replied, "I'm sorry, I didn't know we were talking so loud. There's no room at the cafe." Then, she got up and walked around to the study rooms, I assumed that she was looking for another place to talk, but instead she came back to the couple and said, "Those are for individual study," making sure her whisper was loud enough for all to hear and that she emphasized the word "individual."

I couldn't help but laugh inwardly. I'm not saying I'm perfect, or that I'm better, or any of that. I just thought it was funny! If I could go back and edit the conversation, it would've gone like this:

Study-man: [walking over the couple and Talking-woman with a genuine smile on his face] Excuse me, would you mind finding another place to talk or perhaps talk a little more softly? I'm trying to study for my basket-weaving exam.
Talking-woman: [Genuine sympathy] Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know we were talking so loud. We'll try to keep it down.
Study-man: Thank you, very much. I appreciate your understanding.

HAHAHAHA. Aww. I should never be a script writer.

Anywho, I had a great sandwich for lunch - turkey, brie, lettuce, tomato, mayo on focaccia bread. Whenever I eat brie, for some reason, I think of Tom Sawyer's island. Isn't that weird? That's weird.

I don't what I'd do if any of this were to happen in this library right now:

http://www.mtv.com/shows/silent_library/series.jhtml

That is all.

- G. Love

a little change, a little risk.

Hey Hannah Gee,
Today is a good day. Today I feel different. I think that somehow, although I didn't think it was possible, God changed my attitude. Remember when we were talking about that? Of all things, my attitude is something I thought I was stuck with. My attitude is what I was born with, a part of my personality that would never be different.

This attitude of mine (that is, before it changed) seems to have a mind of its own. My attitude likes to dwell and be bitter. It likes to cast blame on people and places and everything around me. It likes to wish everything could be perfect all the time. It likes to be disappointed when things are not perfect. My attitude likes to be all up or all down.

I never thought that people could change. I knew that we were constantly changing, but I didn't believe that we would ever change change. But maybe we can change. Maybe we change all the time.

Today I recorded a song in the studio. It felt good, but I wasn't on top of my high horse afterwards like I usually am. Release, yes, but no high horse. Instead of a high horse, I felt a simple urge to let go and take more risks. It's not something I've ever been ready to do. My risk always consisted of packing up and moving myself around. Transporting my entire life has become my comfort, actually. Pretty backwards, I'd say.

I'm going to take a risk. I'm going to stay right here...right where I am.
That's where God wants me. I just know it.

Love,
Hannah El

the quiet place

It's the quiet place. It's the place where nothing is moving around you. Where you can be still and your hair doesn't have to look a certain way. Where your face muscles release, where your eyes do not strain, where your shoulders relax. Where the lights are warm and you can feel safe.

Where no one can find you.

It's the quiet place. It's the place where no one can bother you and you don't have to impress anyone with your words or your thoughts. Where you can let your head wander into the clouds of a cold night sky. But you're not cold anymore, because you have a blanket around you. A red one. Where you can open a book whether with words of your own waiting to be written or words of another author. Where you can even open the book of your Lord, and you can finally feel the peace that He offers to you.

It's the quiet place. The place where you feel most at home. The place where you can find yourself without having to move at all. Where nothing is chaos. Where you are completely still except for the world that is quietly turning you. Where there is no interruption.

It's in the quiet place that you can stop moving and stop speaking and stop listening and stop pleasing and stop singing. It's where you can be free for awhile.

We are moving too much. God is telling us to stop. He is telling us to wait on Him. He is telling us to stand still. He is trying to bring us to the quiet place.

-Hannah L

snowstorm.

Got this text from my mom tonight:

Took me 5 hours to get home tonight. Just thank god m home safe. There's goodness in people a man helped push my car when i got stuck at the exit n a neighbor helped push my car to the driveway. Changed my perspective on people. I'll try to be more kind. Luv u girl

I'm more than glad that my mom got home safe but I'm also glad and thankful that those people got to help her out.

See, my mom works at the bank and she meets a lot of different kinds of people. I get the feeling she has more rude and difficult customers than kind ones, just from what she tells me when she gets home. I always feel really bad because while my mom keeps her game face on and has a pretty tough shell, I know it must take a toll on her. I mean, it has to. So, even though I know it must have been a terrible 5 hours trying to get home, I think those people that helped her gave her some hope and made some light in her life. Thank you stranger and neighbor for helping my mom get home.

I bet you they were angels in disguise :]

2:15AM

And I thought I was the only one.

Everything you said hit home for me. It comforted me in a weird way, reminded me that really, however I'm feeling, wherever, there is at least one other person in the world that feels the same way. At the same time, it still sucks, feeling like this.

The waiting you speak of, I'm all too familiar with. I can daydream unlike any other, but when it comes to action, that's foreign to me. I get lost inside my thoughts a little long and a little too far. And I don't really know how to break the cycle. I wish I had some sage advice to give, but I don't. Just know that I'm listening and I understand.

The whole thing about looking to others for self-worth, about being a perfectionist, this was a major theme for the past two weeks when I was in Florida on the choir tour. I'd say that during a majority of the concerts, I was so worried that I was the one who would sing out of tune and ruin the music or that my voice was not blending enough and I'd stick out. In turn, I would sing really soft or even drop out at parts (don't tell anyone! haha). When I individually messed up a part, I would get really down on myself after the concert. I dreaded it. I hated feeling that way. But thank goodness I was reminded by the conductor and a close friend to just sing. Just sing. Maybe it's like that in life too. Just live. I dono.

I am afraid of growing up. Of having responsibilities. Of making mistakes. WHY?! Why can't I just be like "everyone else" and just suck it up and do what I have to do? I am so worried about what people think about me. I want to make mistakes and go through with the consequences. I want to speak my mind and not care of everyone I know likes me. What good is it to me to waste time constantly changing how I act around different people so I'll blend in? I'm weird. I know. I just want to know what it feels like to be comfortable in my skin, to rely solely on the fact that all I need is Christ. I just want to be. I want to stop comparing myself to other people and their lives, because I will never be them.

Hannah, I'm very far away these days. I wish I could say I had roots deep down to the ground so that I could be something sturdy for you to depend on right now. And I'm not saying that you can't depend on me, because I will be here for you. It's just that I'm kind of just suspended in the air right now. I'm not moving either.

This is something that someone sent in an email me tonight:

Tennessee Williams. "In the time of your life--live!" That time is short and it doesn't return again. It is slipping away while I write this and while you read it, the monosyllable of the clock is Loss, loss, loss, unless you devote your heart to its opposition."

It is a new year. And you're already new. He makes all things new.

<3 Hannah Gee

new.

It's almost twenty days into the new year, and I want things to continue to be new. Fresh. I want to have a fresh start. 2010 did not end so great. I mean, come on. New Year's Eve I drove clear across the middle of the country with my sister in order to escape this suffocating town. Bergen County is disgusting and awful, and North Jersey gives me migraines. My life was suffocating me, and I felt trapped. I was tired of being confused, and I was tired of waiting. I was tired of being scared, and tired of feeling like I was worthless. I am not worthless, dammit. But who am I really, anyway? And why have I been looking to other people to show me?

I guess that we do meet people for reasons. We meet people everyday who change us and shape us and mold us into who we are. So when I say look to other people, I mean to literally or figuratively ask them. "Hey you, can you tell me who I am?" It's a waste of time, because without knowing it, you are losing time and losing yourself in the process of trying to find something. The real answer is, of course, Christ. Christ is the answer. Christ is my identity. He is the reason that I still wake up every morning with my hair curly and my head on straight. So what is my purpose?

We're all on some type of quest in this world. Whether we're trying to find peace, comfort, "true happiness", purity, WHATEVER. We're all looking for something. But me? I am... kind of just following instead of looking. I'm mindlessly waiting instead of actively searching. I wait for things, Hannah. Every damn day I wait for things to come my way...for all of the things I've dreamed about--I wait for them to appear in front of me on a silver platter.

I want things in the past not to matter. But why is it that once something is over, we're all just supposed to accept it and move on? REALLY? Honestly, if I could have that mentality I would be much happier. Everything around me is moving at such a fast pace and I can't keep up. And I'm thinking, but wait a second...--OH! It's gone. Okay okay I'll move on but hold on...SLOW DOWN EVERYONE. I need to THINK. I need to DWELLLLL...how else am I supposed to really live? IT'S EVEN THE LITTLE THINGS. Someone will leave me a message and I'll call them back ready to give them a response. But something new has already happened in their life. So I let it go. I let so many things go. I move on from so many things that I don't know if I'm ready to move on from. I wonder if this makes sense...

I am a perfectionist. I hate doing things that feel wrong. When I do too many things that feel wrong, I fall into this trap that is instantly self destructive. After that...I run away. And I am sleeping away my life, my world. I am sleeping away my feelings until I feel something that is good. I sit, self aware, and stare at the objects around me, waiting for something to move. And at the same time, I am fighting for more time to think. To dwell.

Too much looking. Too much waiting. Not enough finding. I look at myself in the mirror and see someone who I don't even know.

This is a new year. I think it's important to stay true to who you are or at least who you think you are. Cliche...and a cliche even to say that it's a cliche. But I don't care. I don't want to hold back anything anymore. I won't hold back this year. I am tired of it.