Life oftentimes gets in the way of living.
For the past few months, somewhere between writing papers, answering the daily question, “To cook or not to cook?” and contemplating what I’m going to do with the rest of my life, I started to neglect my love for this blog. Looking back, I maintained my passion/obsession with swing dancing, which has brought me incredible amounts of joy and friendships across the southeast. Now, I’m trying to find a balance for all of my interests.
When I feel a wave of sentimentality, I am always drawn to my old journals. Those pages have two effects on me:
1. They invariably present the question, “How could I be so painfully immature?”
2. They produce another wave of relief that I have (thank you, Lord) grown up.
In regards to number one, how deep-thinking can an eleven-year old be?
Every now and then, however, I’ll come across an entry that really speaks to me and the situations I am facing. That insight recently came in the journal I received years ago from my beloved teacher, Mrs. Earley, who made a lasting impression on me to approach life with curiosity and kindness. It’s unlike me to share my entries, but this one is an exception since it revolves around PIE!
A bit abstract in its subject matter, but true nonetheless. I knew pie could teach lessons, even to a teenager!
With all of the darkness the world has to offer, there’s double the amount of goodness. You may have to dig at times but it’s always there.
To be happy or not to be happy? To keep a journal or not to keep a journal?
I vote a resounding “yes” for both.