One year ago, outside my window in Dublin

I’m still a child at heart. I like it that way. I still grin from ear to ear while watching Beauty and the Beast and The Little Mermaid. I grew up wanting to be an archeologist. As a teenager I wanted to write for a magazine. Maybe a Christian magazine, for young girls where I could write words to inspire. Just to let them know that it’s going to be okay, that they are not alone in whatever they are feeling or going through. To spread the message of hope and love. I like being a friend. I believe that love is the most powerful thing. That’s why we’re told to guard our hearts. It’s the reason a broken heart is such a tragic thing. The greatest gift someone can give is to just be there, with their full heart. I don’t particularly know why I’m rambling like this, but there it is. And it doesn’t really matter if it all makes sense. At least not now. Not in moments like this where it’s just me, myself and I typing on the computer. This is what I’ve always done. For as long as I can remember. I’m a thinker, if nothing else. Always having the desire to get the most random, little details of thought and life down on paper- or Word document. I used to think it’d be so neat if our minds were some sort of typewriter, where like magic we could think something and it would appear on paper. I don’t know how any such thing is possible. I suppose that is what I mean by magic. My thinking can be silly.

It’s funny how our minds can jump from one thought to the next. I’m thinking about the pretty sound of violins, how much I love driving at night listening to music on full blast. Or how lovely it would be to wear a summer dress while hunting for lightning bugs at night, using a Mason jar as if it were a net. I'm often jumping from one thing to the next. I start on a subject and end it on something different entirely.

Life is a delicate, pretty thing. We’re often so wrapped up in our fears, insecurities and life’s current struggle. Too often I think about this life and forget about the other people who are living it in foreign lands. Lands with famine and war and similar things. I often wonder why I’ve been so blessed. How easy would it have been to be born in a country where women have no rights, where children go to bed hungry. I often think about such things, wrestling with where I fit into it all. But thankful that I do fit somewhere. I do.

It’s one of those nights where I’m assured, where I’m content. It’s one of those nights where I’m just thinking to myself and letting my mind wander. Perhaps I'll wake up tomorrow and wonder why I bothered posting this, when usually I save such things tucked away in a file on my computer titled Thoughts.

I guess the point was to just say, short and simple: We’re all going to be okay. & If I could, I would sit down with each and every one of you at Starbucks, sipping on coffee and rambling with one another about random things. ★

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