Be brave, be brave.

The world can spin, and the newness can swell. Almost as if there was a pulse of its own, tapping slowly in time – marking the second, the moments as they pass.

Life seems confusing, not in a way to lead you to be frantic, but isntead prepetually fighting the feeling of disorientation.  I know left from right, and how the map works; but figuring the road alone for the first time seems to take so much intention.

New rooms and old boxes, finding their way into the correct spaces on the shelves. Leaving what was behind, and finding the places for all of the adult parts to fit like pieces of a complicated puzzle. There are cars, and new jobs, and parents living farther away.

And then there are realizations that the gravy-train-days of being carefully sheltered by loving parents might be over. Walking the life alone, with them standing behind me and cheering is a good thing. It is what should be taking place. But as the road leads me off of their street, and down the road to my own life, I can’t help but feel a little lonely.

Like my wonderful king sized bed and perfect desk won’t shout “JENNI’S HOME” when I walk in the door. Like I can’t hear my mom laughing with my dad upstairs while I sit and watch TV. Like there isn’t a busy whirl of plans and people and yelling and laughing contantly.  Like this is mine now. Its what I make it. The rest of the road goes to where I lead it.

Its nothing impossible, maybe just overwhelming.

But I know they are proud. And I know we cannot stop the current of life. And staying won’t yeild the life that I want, but some handicapped version of childhood.

So, I sit back on a cardboard box, and continue to unpack my things. Finding places for my adult life along the new clean shelves.

Be Brave. Be brave.