Thoughts on Graduating

I am in a very contemplative mood today.

It seems like just a couple days ago that I was 13 and at my older cousin's graduation party. I can clearly remember my awe at her adultness- she seemed so independent and wise as I listened to her talk of her college plans. Sometime between then and now I blinked- and suddenly it's my turn to answer the dreaded question: "so where are you going to college?" which is of course followed by the inevitable: "oh, and what do you what to do?".

How do I answer that?  I want to do EVERYTHING. So much to read, so much to contemplate, so much to see and experience that nothing is moving as fast as I'd like. The days go by infinately slowly, yet the years flash by faster than a speeding bullet. It's sort of like driving a very fast car down the highway. You look ahead and it appears you're moving painfully slow. But if you happen to glance out your side window, you see only blurs as you whip past the trees and telephone lines.

As hard as it is for me to slow down long enough to write out my thoughts, I know it's important. I don't want to only look ahead, and forget the little details I speed by.
Honestly though, I couldn't be any happier than I am right now. It seems like everything is just flowing naturally in the best way I could imagine. I can't even express how ready I am to be out of high school next week. The last big hurdle before then: my senior presentation. One week to go!! 

"Farm Girl"

I listened, my mortification growing, as my sister once again spun the story of living on a farm to a classroom full of students. I stared longingly at the door, wishing myself anywhere but there. We were just starting freshman year in a new high school and my one wish was to fit in. Changing schools six times since first grade, not to mention living in three different states, I’d become adept at changing my personality in any given situation to feel as if I belonged. Yet how was I supposed to blend in if my twin sister constantly went around talking about milking cows? Anyone who has ever attended high school knows that kids can be remarkably cruel. While I had loved living on our farm, I was terrified that my newly made friends would judge me if they knew I used to wear overalls, chase chickens, and drive a hulking green tractor. Here in Sterling Heights, I was certain that broadcasting my experiences as a farm girl wouldn’t exactly land me in the “cool” crowd. So, my cheeks red with embarrassment, I quickly changed the subject to a school assignment due next hour.

Ten years ago, when my mom announced that we were the proud owners of 16 bare acres of land two hours north of our home in Warren, Michigan, I didn’t know what to expect. I thought of it as another phase she’d quickly grow out of. I didn’t expect the lasting impact those 16 acres, which we eventually named Bright Acres Farm, would come to have on my way of thinking. Completely clueless, I helped to pack my life into boxes once again, and then unpacked those boxes into our newly built farmhouse. So, while other girls my age were learning about Miley Cyrus, the Jonas Brothers, IMing, and boys, I learned about Sally Fallon, tractors, gardening, and dairy cows.

Since that initial embarrassing moment at the beginning of freshman year, I’ve come a long way toward truly appreciating my unique experiences. Now, I happily tell my friends that, for five glorious years, I lived on a farm. I’ve learned to be proud of the fact that I can expound on the differences between Jersey cows and Holsteins, and explain the many methods to kill a chicken. I’ve learned to accept that I once spent my days weeding turnips and mucking stalls. There’s nothing like a farm for teaching you the value of working hard and the satisfaction of raising organic food you know is both good for your body and the environment. I respect the different culture

My time on a farm has made such a huge impact on the person I am today. It sparked my interest in healthy and sustainable living and the environment. It taught me respect for the natural world and how to appreciate the beauty one can find in honest living.  Running barefoot through freshly plowed dirt;  bottle feeding a newborn lamb; rescuing a colicky horse. These experiences cultivated a passion in my heart for more than just the latest pop star, or most popular social networking site. They inspired me to question how and why the world works. Are they what most would consider “cool”? Probably not. But I’ve ceased caring what’s “cool” or “popular.” I’ve found that it’s when you stop caring what your peers think and have confidence in whatever you’re doing, people will see the confidence you have in yourself and respect you as an individual.

 So yes, just in case you were wondering, I am a farm girl. 

My Love Affair with Paper and Pen

I never knew that all the words constantly twirling, twisting, teasing me were only begging for the freedom to be set loose on a page of paper. 

Who knew?

 Something practically magical occurs as I pull out a piece of paper and click open a pen, or open up a blank page and position my fingers over a keyboard. 

No longer am I thinking too many thoughts at once. 

No longer is there chaos in my head. 

It's as if those poking, prodding words line up in an orderly fashion (a rare occurance) to file neatly out in a controlled manner. Paper and pen have become my best friends- my safe haven if you will- to create and discover. Why did I shy away from writing for so long? The fear of not being good enough? I had a breakthrough moment when I realized I shouldn't care whether the end product is a work of genius. 

It's the process that matters.

 For as long as I can remember I've struggled with self-criticism and an internal judgmental commentary regarding everything I did. That critical voice in my head has pushed me to accomplish a crazy amount, yet I've never really felt any of it was 

"good enough". 

Realizing that DOING a painting or writing a story is more important than THINKING about it gave me a clearer understanding of how it feels to actually enjoy the process.

 No anxiety. 

Being present in the moment and loving WHAT IS- whether a masterpiece or flop- allows me to create without limits or expectations.

To The Ones Who've Left Scars on My Heart

I forgive you.  

I forgive you for lashing out in fear and anger because you felt betrayed by those you loved.  

I forgive you for disappearing inside yourself, living life a shell- 

 Making me feel as if I wasn't enough.  

I forgive you for thinking you were not worthy to be part of life, of earth, of God. 

I shoved my fear inside, but you scared the hell out of me.

 I forgive you for locking me outside the walls you retreated behind- 
trying to prevent even more pain from being stored behind them.  

I forgive you for the tears you held within hoping you would eventually drown.  

I'm sorry I never seemed to know the right thing to say. 

I forgive you for the stoic silence you displayed when I needed you the most, 
I realize now you were only trying to escape the voices in your head screaming for release. 

I forgive you for surviving the abuse the only way you knew how.

Yes, you've hurt me. but who am I to judge? I'm not perfect anymore than you are- 

yet I allowed myself to feel somehow superior.  

I didn't realize that all that anger, resentment, and hurt I was carrying
in my heart was ultimately only dragging me back and holding me in the pain of the past. 
Just as Christ has forgiven my sins I know I have to forgive you.
It's not going to be easy- 
scars don't heal overnight.
 But I end this letter having taken the first step.
It's a start. 

Always,
  Amanda

Why it's taking me so long to come to this realization I will NEVER know. It's so simple, yet powerful. Being completely, brutally honest with someone is like a fresh breathe of air for your soul. Sometimes it seems like it's so much easier to hide behind a facade designed to protect us from the world and from each other. Pretending your feeling something your not, or not feeling something you are- and why? Because we're afraid that if we really showed the world what we think, they'd find us lacking. But in that act of brutal honesty your saying to yourself that you accept yourself for who you are; people will see that and respect you for it. I feel sometimes as if everything in the girl world is a game or political ploy. But so often I catch myself acting in the same way I dislike in other girls. How can I expect someone to give me their complete honesty if I'm playing the same games they are? Things will just continue in the same vicious cycle. So along with being thankful this Thanksgiving I'm going to strive to be honest. With myself and with others. 

Welcome to My World

Wow. I've been toying with the idea of starting a blog for so long, it's crazy I FINALLY got around to making one. The whole process just seemed a tad bit daunting, you know. Picking a name. Picking a theme. Picking colors, text fonts, and backgrounds. Yet here I am. My very own place to spill all  my thoughts, hopes, dreams. I apologize in advance for my ADD. I try to focus... I really do. However, I am the queen of complete randomness. I hope you enjoy reading my blog as much as I will writing it- feel free to comment to your hearts content.  Thought I'd share some pictures to help you get to know me:) 

This is my most recently completed art piece. My AP art concentration this year is the theme

Man's Disregard for Nature and this piece focuses on the tragedy of the Gulf of Mexico BP oil spill.
::oil paint and charcoal::

The reason I exist, and my other half. From left to right: Jess (twin sister), my Mom, and then me. We're all so completely and crazily different, but even when I'm pretty sure I don't like them I know I'll always love these two amazing people. 

I'm secretly a nerd. Oops. Maybe not so secret now... 

My heart and soul and the reason I am the person I am. My Daddy. You will hear a lot about him as he is the inspiration and support  for almost everything I do. 

No, that's not a horse. It's Edison, my gentle giant. He enjoys long walks on the beach. 

Yes, that's me with blonde hair on a tractor. Truth is, I was a legitimate farm girl for 5 amazing, busy, fascinating years of my life. Living on a farm impacted me in so many ways and I'll most likely be talking more about my farm adventures later on. Consider this a preview.