Ruts

Sometimes I think I was a very wise sophomore.  I don't usually say that because sixteen year olds aren't known for their wisdom.  However, on the advent of my sister moving to Washington D.C. and me moving in a week, I thought what I wrote clear back in tenth grade was especially appropriate. 

"My rut is very beautiful.  I have been digging it all year.  Every time I got more comfortable, my rut got a little deeper.  Now it's fairly deep.  I have nice flowers planted.  A sitting area welcomes me to sit, relax, and take my time.  However, it's still a rut.  It's still time to mov eon.  Even though outside the rut is scary, I need to go.  The scenery isn't quite as nice and tame.  Rather like going from a landscaped yard to the stark, barren desert; scary in its beauty.  Time to move on.  Get out of the comfort rut.  Let my heart break a little and say goodbye.  Take myself a little more seriously.  Let my hair down when I have a chance.  Maybe if I'm lucky, let my heart love my new surroundings.  Maybe even dig a new rut."

I wrote this at the end of sophomore year in a chemistry class that would not end.  I've thought about this little sketch several times over the years, but it's especially poignant this time around.  I'm scared, but I have to keep reminding myself that the strangeness in my life will eventually become so normal I won't even remember why I was scared.  

Good luck out there, Anne.  You are going to do so well, and I'm not just saying that.  I am so excited to see how much you will flourish.  I am so happy for you and your new adventure.  Have fun and thank you for being an example in kindness, bravery, and courage. 

xo. Elise