Tag Archives: Optimism

Nothing Between Us

I’ve always had different feelings when it comes to my epilepsy. When I was a kid it scared that crap out of me. It was unnatural. Something evil was in my head. What was happening? Why me? When I got medicine, it was like I had died and gone to heaven. My life had been changed. For many years it didn’t bother me at all. I never had seizures, and never even had any symptoms. Then in my Sophomore year of college–three years ago–it came back. I would have actual seizures, though not terrible ones (whatever that means). I sometimes lost control of my body. I was tired and angry, particularly angry at God. For a while, until we got it mostly under control, I was just scared.

These days my feelings are different. I have symptoms rather often, so it doesn’t scare me anymore. Being angry doesn’t really do anything either. I’ve asked God to heal me and to make it go away, and he hasn’t. I remember reading that Paul asked God to get rid of a thorn in his side. God said “no,” because it reminded Paul that he needed God. I think of my epilepsy kind of like that. I can often tell when I’m going to have issues, so these days I just think: “Okay. Whatever. It’ll only last a bit.” While I’m having issues I just try to pray, about anything, and often, I’m able to sort of “muscle” my way through it. Sometimes, if it’s bad enough that I can’t process language, I just try to focus on God in some way and wait.

I had a few minutes where I just had to wait earlier today, and I realized, that those are the only times when I just sit still. I’m not playing music. I’m not writing. I’m not listening to anyone or anything. I’m not even thinking about anything. Oddly enough, it’s the only time where there is literally nothing on my mind. It’s the only time where there is nothing between me and God: no weird thoughts; no distractions; nothing I have to do; no words.

I am someone who will prove that someone with Muscular Dystrophy can do X, Y, or Z. I absolutely love it when people assume I can’t do something because I love proving them wrong. I’m also kind of an impatient person. I wonder if God allowed me to have epilepsy as a way of saying, “Woh… slow down, kiddo. Don’t forget that I’m the one who made all this possible. Don’t let your ego get ahead of you. Don’t forget about me.”

Admittedly, I spend a lot of time in my head. As a result, thoughts about God sometimes take a back seat. Sometimes thoughts about spiritual things get confusing or complicated, so I just think “screw it,” and move on to the next thing. Sometimes God doesn’t make a whole lot of noise. He lets me mess up like a parent lets their kid mess up so they’ll learn. Honestly, I don’t know if any of this really has anything to do with my epilepsy, but I have to make it make sense somehow. It annoys me when things don’t make sense.

God can’t physically show up and bang on my door and say “Hey! I need you to listen to me for a minute!” I have to take the initiative. I be responsible and slow down. I have to take the time to read and figure out what God is trying to say. Sometimes I think he just wants me to stop and spend a little time with him, even if he doesn’t have anything to say. It’s easy to forget that God is a person, and it’s easy to forget that sometimes he just wants to be with his peeps.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

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Trust

I trust everyone. Honestly, I assume that everyone has good, or at least mostly good motives, and really does want the best for the world and for others. That’s not to say I trust everyone 100%. I’m not naive. I know people have evil in them, and I know there are dangerous people in the world. I’m just not afraid of them. From my experience, 999,999 out of 1,000,000 are trustworthy. I believe this for a number of reasons.

I’m young and grew up in a safe suburban town, went to school at a Christian college in the middle of nowhere, and still live in the aforementioned safe suburban town. I’m an optimist. I simply want there to be good in people, and I choose to see the good. I’ve never really encountered any truly dangerous people. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and if I get hurt, I believe that some good will eventually come of it; I’ll learn something from it. I’ve never been disappointed when I give someone the benefit of the doubt, even if I’ve been a little unsure in the beginning.

My contemporaries and I were taught when we were kids not to talk to strangers. We were taught that evil was lurking around every corner. I don’t know when where or why our parents got this notion. To me at least, it seems entirely unreasonable to believe such a thing. You would constantly be living in fear. A friend of mine has told me that it’s better to be a pessimist because you’ll always be right or pleasantly surprised. However, I don’t necessarily view “bad” experiences in a negative light. One must either take responsibility for these experiences, or one must assume that these things were meant to happen and things will eventually get better.

I do believe in destiny to some extent. I don’t think it conflicts with the idea that humans have free will. God has a plan for each of our lives, and we can choose to go along with that plan, or we can choose not to and hope for the best. The trouble is knowing what God’s plan is in a concrete sense, especially in the day-to-day details. It often doesn’t seem to make any sense at all from a human perspective, and the truth is, this can get annoying.

In a recent post I wrote about how I want to belong only to God, and I’ve been exploring the possibility of becoming a Sister or a nun (apparently they’re different). I’ve also been trying to find someone to play music and write with. I’ve mostly been looking on Craig’s list, and haven’t been able to find anyone. I was supposed to meet someone at Starbucks today, but my parents wouldn’t let me. They didn’t trust him for several reasons, but I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. I live with my parents because of my disability, and it would be too much of a hassle to figure out how to live on my own. The fact of the matter is, however, that if I did live on my own, I would have met my potential musical copilot this afternoon.

When I was a kid I liked my quiet neighborhood. I could play in the street with my friends and a short walk around the neighborhood was long enough for me. I desperately want to move to a city. I want to be able to go places without having to get a ride. I want to be able to just wander off with an actual destination in mind when I’m bored and need a change of scenery. I want to be able to actually go somewhere for work. Right now I spend my entire day in my bedroom. I work in here. I write in here. I play music in here. I pray in here. I sleep in here.

A few nights ago I was doing research about religious life and for some reason it was making me anxious. Part of me wants to do this because I want to formally dedicate myself to God (i.e. I want to take some kind of vow), but at the same time, I’m starting to feel like that isn’t the life for me. I’m almost certain by now that God wants me to remain single, and I’m really okay with that. However, now I find myself asking “Why?” If he doesn’t want me to be a “religious” person, what the heck does he want me to do?

I’m still working on finishing the New Testament, and it’s like he’s drilling into my head: “Tell people about me!” I desperately want to, but I just can’t find the right words. People don’t want to hear the same old message. People don’t want to hear for the hundredth time that Jesus saved them from their sins and I don’t want to tell them that. I want to tell them about how I never feel alone. I want to tell them what it feels like to really be peaceful. I want to tell them how it feels to not worry or to not be scared. I just can’t figure out how to put the feeling into words.

I was briefly mad at God this afternoon. I was mad because he made me the way I am and landed me in this town. Being angry about it isn’t helpful, though. It doesn’t change anything. Because I live in this town I belong to the church I do, and I love my church. I love the people there, I love the priests there, I love teaching and volunteering there, and I love all the quirks that come with it. My church is definitely quirky. If I didn’t live in this insufferable town I wouldn’t have the friends I do. We wouldn’t have perfected our epic commiseration skills, and we wouldn’t be the people we are today. If I wasn’t born with MD, I most likely would not be nearly as empathetic as I am. If I didn’t live in this town I would have never discovered the culinary masterpiece that is Colombo’s Pizza. Actually, I probably wouldn’t be a confirmed Catholic. It was my music teacher who unknowingly convinced me to go through with it, and I wouldn’t have met him if I didn’t live in this town.

As I said, I trust people, but it’s way more important to trust God. I might just have to accept the prospect of never having a musical copilot. I don’t intend to make music a career, anyway. There’s no point in being mad at my parents either. I just started doing research to start a business with my dad. I think we will work well together. I’m learning a lot about the business world, and I’m finding it surprisingly enjoyable. I’ve hit a roadblock in my novel, and I need to do some reading to help me with that. Strangely enough, I’m finding that I’m busy lately even when it feels like I’m getting nothing done.

The future actually seems much more certain than it did last summer. In May I will have been out of school for a year. I still don’t entirely know what I’m doing or where I’m going, but I have a much better idea. I can comfortably say that I’m an artist, and hopefully I’ll be able to say that I’m a successful entrepreneur in the next few years. Time is a weird thing. It feels like it’s dragging on slowly until you look at it in retrospect. It’s taken me almost a year to get to where I am now, in terms of what I want to do. Realistically, that’s not a long time.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

One Year Later

I’ve been trying for a week, at least, to do two things. It’s been difficult, because they are related, and if I can’t do one, then I can’t do the other, either. It’s Valentine’s Day, and all weekend I’ve been trying to convince myself that I don’t care. I’m about 90% of the way there. It’s important that I don’t care because, for one thing, I’m single, and for another, I promised God that I would belong to him 100%, and to me, at least for right now, that means not having a “romantic” relationship with anyone else. I decided on this many months ago because, for several, rather complicated reasons, finding a partner would be difficult at best.

This decision has been, for the most part, emotionally helpful. It seems counter-intuitive, but giving up in that department has allowed me to be happy for people who do have strong relationships, has allowed me to focus on more important things, namely my novel, my hobbies, and my friends, and has allowed me to strengthen my relationship with God. However, just because I’ve decided I will never have a “significant other” and have decided not to look, does not mean I don’t still sometimes want a partner.

Last month, when I realized Valentine’s Day was coming up, I started to feel a little bad. I’ve realized that this issue is a little more complicated than I originally assumed. I’ve read and heard some things explaining how having a strong relationship can be a way of glorifying God. Lately I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what it means to belong to God 100%. I want to know if I can have a partner and still be dedicated entirely to him. The thing is, I feel like it’s a little bit of a betrayal if I’m longing after something I can’t have. But if I’m longing after that person (whoever it might be), does that mean I should seek them out? I’m just a little bit stuck.

A little while ago I went on Facebook. Normally that would be a bad idea for someone like me on this day, but I actually liked seeing what people were doing or a few silly or cynical posts. I was going to go to the movies with a couple of friends tonight, but they ended up having other obligations. I planned to go to the movies to distract myself, but actually, I don’t need to. As far as I’m concerned, today is just another ordinary day. I have some things I’d like to get done, anyway.

I know this day can be hard. I totally get it. I wish I had some words of wisdom to share, but I really don’t. I’ve been trying to figure out a meaningful way to tell the world that God loves everyone; God’s love is eternal; God’s love is no-matter-what, but I can’t. I don’t know how to make that sink in. I can’t figure out how to say it in a way that hasn’t been said before. You’ve probably heard it so many times that it doesn’t mean much any more. You have to feel it to know it.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Why?

Last night my epilepsy decided not to behave. Usually this happens when it’s getting a little late (around nine or ten o’clock) for no discernible reason. I take my medicine at eleven AM, and eleven PM every day, but for whatever reason, I still get a little “brain fuzz.” It’s hard to explain exactly what happens, but it usually only lasts a few minutes at most. The problem is that it makes me tired, and I keep making the mistake of going to bed too early. The point is, I went to bed around ten last night and woke up at midnight, wide awake. I couldn’t fall asleep again until around five this morning. Coffee is a beautiful thing.

We figured out I had epilepsy when I was eight. I don’t remember when I started having seizures, but I do remember when I finally got medicine and they went away. I was totally fine on a very low dose until about my sophomore year of college. Since then we’ve been increasing my does periodically because I’ve been having “brain fuzz” more and more frequently. It’s mostly annoying more than anything else. Part of the problem is that it’s hard to explain exactly what my symptoms are because, interestingly, I can’t comprehend language while I’m having issues. I can’t talk, and I can’t understand when people try to talk to me. I say it’s interesting because, unless it’s bad, it doesn’t really scare me anymore.

Last weekend a friend of mine came to my house  for the first time. We sort of officially became friends last year. We had a class together and it turned out we had a lot in common. At least we’re both super nerdy. I graduated last May, and he’s graduating this coming spring. We’ve wanted to hang out since last year, but we never got a chance, so we’ve been talking a lot via Facebook. Last weekend my friend got to see what “brain fuzz” looks like. This weekend he wants to hang out again. I’m so glad. It just makes me feel weird and yucky when my friends see my brain betray me. I know they don’t care, but it bothers me, nonetheless.

Epilepsy is confusing from a spiritual standpoint. Sometimes it doesn’t even cross my mind to pray or talk to God, and sometimes I get seriously angry. Sometimes, depending on how bad my symptoms are, it terrifies me. I don’t know why I started having symptoms again just a few years ago, and I don’t understand why they seem to be getting worse, but I guess at this point I don’t really care. I don’t think it’s going to go away, so there’s not really anything I can do at this point. I know God cares, even if it doesn’t seem like it, and I know he loves me. Everything is going to be okay, and I refuse to believe otherwise. If he won’t get rid of it, and pills won’t get rid of it, there’s a good reason. Maybe I won’t figure it out, but that’s okay, too.

While I couldn’t sleep last night I read, and I found this: “Don’t ever lose hope or let your tears stop” (Lamentations 2:18). At first that didn’t make sense to me. If you have hope, then why are you crying? If you’re crying, then you must not be hopeful. God tells his people not to be afraid because he is in control. He also says not to worry. I’m really good at not worrying. People actually find it annoying. Of course I occasionally worry, but it’s really not often. On the other hand, things scare me. I’m jumpy, and I’m superstitious, which is a bad combination. I don’t think God is asking his people to literally not be afraid. I’m not sure that’s even possible. Fear is a survival instinct. It’s natural. I think he’s asking us to scurry to him when we are afraid and to remember that we can rely on him no matter what. He will always make things okay.

He says, “Don’t ever lose hope or let your tears stop.” I think he’s saying that it’s okay to fall apart. It’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s okay to be scared. He will carry us. I think we can’t be utterly vulnerable or helpless unless we do have hope. I can’t do anything when my brain misbehaves. I cannot for the life of me figure out why it happens or how to stop it. Sometimes it’s just a minor inconvenience, and sometimes it’s terrifying and infuriating. I kind of know how to get rid of my symptoms of they’re not so bad, but sometimes there is nothing I can do. If it’s bad enough I just have to go to sleep, and at that point I just have to say (sometimes without words) “Lord, I’m at your mercy. Please take care of me.” I always wake up. My brain always gets better.

I think God allowed me to have MD and epilepsy so that I would have to rely on him, so that I would know him, and so that I would understand things better, and maybe be able to explain some of those things. That’s pretty cool. He picked me for a special reason. I can live with that. I can play three instruments now. I can write well. I can snuggle my stupid little bird. I can play my nerdy games with my nerdy friends. I have a pretty awesome life. It isn’t perfect, but that’s okay. It’s darn good.

I get to invent words like Wuja: a thing that is too cute for words!

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Things I’ve Learned

Do not hate the haters. Hate feeds hate.

Do not withhold from the ungrateful what they do not deserve. Give anyway. Charity feeds love. Love feeds gratitude.

Do not be negative. There is always hope.

Do not judge yourself. Have faith.

Love everyone. Forgive everything.

What Can And Can’t Be Done

Saturday was a rather musical day for me. We got home late from Maine on Friday, accompanied by my new friend, Ivan (Romanian violin). I didn’t have much time to play with him that night, so after lunch on Saturday I spent a while experimenting with different ways of holding the instrument and fingering the neck. As I’ve mentioned before, I can  play it sort of like one would play a cello. I hold the neck of the instrument up near my neck and reach down with the bow to play the strings. I was having to worry too much about it sliding, so yesterday my dad built me a little metal brace that holds it steady. As it is, I can almost kinda sorta play a major scale. I initially thought the lack of frets was going to be more of an issue, but my ear is good enough by now that it doesn’t seem like it’s going to matter that much. Yesterday I played for several hours because I can’t really even go outside at the moment. I’m allergic to something that’s in bloom right now, and it’s killing me. I figured out how to play a very squeaky version of Ode To Joy, as well as some improvised melodies. I quite glad with the progress I’ve made so far.

Nobody thought this was going to be a good idea. A lot of people thought I was going to waste a bunch of money on an instrument I wasn’t going to be able to play. I will most definitely be able to play it and make pretty things happen, so eat it, doubters! I love proving people wrong. It’s one of my favorite things to do. I’ve been able to figure out how to do just about everything I’ve wanted to–with the exception of skateboarding. That one would probably be a little tricky.

The guy who made my violin was super helpful and encouraging. He had a whole bunch of suggestions and was completely open to me finding an alternative way of playing. We need more people like him in the world. Picking out a violin and doing some experimenting at the shop reminded me of my first guitar lesson almost eight years ago. In short my teacher’s approach was: Well, this is how you’re supposed to do it, but it looks like we’re gonna have to do things your way, so let’s get down to business.

That’s the point. I don’t do things “the normal way.” I do things Katie style, but the fact of the matter is, I do things. There isn’t just one way of doing anything. I open doors with my feet more than half the time. My bird has learned to climb up my wheelchair to get off the floor. The more people are convinced that I won’t be able to do something, the harder I will try to get it done.

I find that people, especially people in the school system, are way too quick to assume that people are incapable. The special education department at my school practically controlled my life until I went to high school when, in fact, they simply wouldn’t listen to me. They thought I was incapable of focusing or getting anything done, so they assigned me an aid and hovered over me for eight years when the truth was I was bored. I was a normal kid who would have figured it out eventually. I would have got some bad grades, my parents would have nagged me, and that would have been the end of it. Instead I coasted and school took care of itself. For many years I didn’t care because I was a lazy kid who thought she was getting a free ride. You start to care about what other people think of you in middle school, though, and I realized that people were seeing me as broken. In my freshman year of high school, I wrote a strongly worded letter, using the best English I could possibly muster at age fourteen, and I fired them. After the first few weeks of my freshman year, I was free.

Don’t underestimate people, but more importantly, don’t crush their will. I’m a stubborn, outspoken person. My “issues” are only physical. Things can be harder and more intimidating when people have intellectual issues. This isn’t always the case, but it seems to be at least somewhat true from what I’ve seen as a mentor. Don’t tell anyone what they can and can’t do. Don’t talk to their parents about them while they’re standing right there. Don’t assume anyone can’t do something just because it looks difficult or even impossible. Especially don’t do things for people without even letting them try. Be encouraging. Be annoying even. Make people step outside their comfort zone. Make them try things. They’ll surprise themselves and they’ll surprise you.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Random Life Update

The past few weeks have been interesting. I recently met two pen pals (email buddies), both by the name of Jonathan. They’re rather different in terms of personality, but they’re both very nice. I also started working on my novel again yesterday. I’ve been lazy over the summer, and I don’t entirely regret it, but it’s time to get back to work. I have excellent plans for my story, and it’ll be good to get that moving. It’s just been hard with friends and family taking up so much of my time. Everyone is starting to go back to school and work, though, which means I’ll be able to as well. It’s been good, though. I like my humans. Lastly, I’ve made the decision to learn how to play violin. I’ve had songwriter’s block, and I think learning a new instrument will help with that.

I tried learning a few years ago, but I didn’t have the time to practice at that point. Now I should have plenty of time. I’m excited because it will be hard. I’m excited to take on a challenge. I’m going to buy the instrument soon, and I’m going to ask for a month of lessons for Christmas. I like trying to teach myself things, but I do think I’ll need some instruction in this case. My family is going to kill me. I’m going to be so annoying for a while. While it’s nice out I might practice outside and annoy the neighbors instead. I think a good place to start will be to pick some songs that have simple melodies and try learning those on my own, then when I start lessons I can get more into real technique.

I’ll be starting CCD again soon. I hope I get my little cousin’s class. I’ll call on him all the time. It’ll be great. I’ll also be starting my writer’s workshop this month. They meet once a month in Newton, which is about an hour away for me. It’ll be a lot of fun, though. Speaking of which, I accidentally made a friend the other day. We happened to have gone to the same high school, happened to have graduated the same year, and happen to both be writing fantasy/science fiction stories. Funny how that stuff works.

I spent this past weekend job hunting. I didn’t really get anywhere, so I’m going to put that on hold. Working on a novel is just a horrifyingly huge task, but I need stick with it. It took two years to complete my album. I feel like that was a different kind of project, though. At least I’m not investing huge amounts of money into writing a story. The album wasn’t exactly a huge success. Surprisingly, I don’t care. Over time I’ve realized that I’m not really cut out for the music business. When I was a kid I wanted to be a rock star. I guess my dream has changed. My dream now is just to make love in the world. It’s a much less concrete goal, to be sure, but it’s also an adventure. I’m excited for the coming year. Beyond that, I have no idea what the future will bring. Normally that would scare me, but at the moment, it’s exciting.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

“You Need To Get Out More”

Last night my dad and I were playing video games, and he said to me, “You need to get out more. The only people you talk to are yourself and your bird.” I found that rather offensive. The reason I don’t go out more is because I live in suburbia and can’t drive. Every time I need or want to go somewhere I have to ask for a ride, and I hate inconveniencing anyone. Plus, even if I did “go out more,” I don’t even know where I would go. I don’t drink; I don’t like crowds; there’s not much in Boston that I haven’t already seen.

Later, I realized something: I am absolutely terrified of the real world. I am terrified of making a fool of myself. I am terrified of failure. I just finished writing page fifty six in my novel. I actually love how well it’s going so far. There are things that need tweaking. There will always be things that need tweaking, but this is the farthest I’ve ever got in the endeavor to write a fantasy story. I’ve wanted to be a famous musician since I was a little kid, but I’ve always wanted to write a good novel, too. Last night I thought: “What am I even doing? I don’t have a paying job; I don’t know how this is going to go; I don’t even know if I really actually want to write a novel.” Sometimes I don’t.

My parents gave me a year to do whatever I want. I have to try and do something meaningful in that year. That was the one stipulation, but I can do whatever I want. The trouble is I don’t want to do anything. I literally just want to do nothing. I want to sit and enjoy the sunshine. I want to read books. I want to read the Bible cover to cover. I want to play video games. I want to waste time and not feel bad about wasting it.

My mom suggested finding a group for writers who are working on novels for the first time. I like that idea, but the truth is that even that scares me. I guess I’m more scared of people than I even realized. It’s not just that, though. I feel like I should know what I’m supposed to be doing by now. I feel like I should have a clear path. My brother knows he wants to be a doctor. He has at least the next ten years of his life planned out. I don’t even know what I’m doing tomorrow. People at school would say that they felt “called” to do X or Y, but I feel like I’m just floundering. I don’t know what I’m “meant” to do, if anything.

I still don’t, but what I realized is that I have to do something. I have to choose a path and stick to it, so I’m going to finish my book. I may not feel like I’m going anywhere with it sometimes, but I have to finish it. I can’t stop now that I’ve got so far. I think it’s a good story, and I’m proud of what I’ve written so far. I just have to remind myself, when I don’t feel like it’s going anywhere, that the sooner I finish, the sooner I can get it published and maybe make some money off of it… or if it flops, the sooner I can do something else. The other thing I reminded myself of last night is that things happen slower than I think they will, or want them to, sometimes, and I don’t know how most things will end. I have to be patient, and I have to trust God, because I may not know what I’m doing, but he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s not just going to leave me floundering. I’ll figure it out. I’m going to finish my book, and I’m going to go outside of my comfort zone and find a writing group.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Making A List And Changing My Mind

I realize that I’ve been posting a lot of not-so-happy things on here lately. Part of that is the result of working on my literary journal project for school. The subject matter of my journal was activism, so I ended up reading a lot of concerning things.

Yesterday I was in a bad mood. I read an article from a white woman’s perspective about her godson and his family, who were black. The story was about how, as a teenager, her godson was arrested for not giving up his hat at school because he was afraid he wouldn’t get it back, and later, how his father was badly beaten because he wouldn’t get out of his car fast enough when the police targeted him for committing a crime he had nothing to do with.

After reading this, I was angry. I was sad. I had to consciously remind myself that the world is not terrible, so I sang my song, “Good In Things,” to myself. It’s a happy song, and in that moment, it meant a lot. However, it took me all day yesterday to completely snap out of my bad mood. Yesterday afternoon I had to consciously make a list of what the good in the world was.

Here is my list:

Love
Faith
Trust
Hope
Music
Sunshine
Snow
Rain
Sunsets
Family
Cars
Airplanes
Food
Movies
The Internet
Powered Wheelchairs
Hospitals
Medicine
Doctors
Compassion
Engineers
Humor
Video Games
Blogging
Strawberries
Language
Hands
Guitars
Voices
Singing
Eyes
Cell Phones
Trees
The smell of dirt
Forgiveness
Fish tanks/fish
Doing stupid stuff
Water
Fire
The word “Noodle”
Redemption
God’s Plan
Jesus
Christmas
Presents
Guitar amps
The fact that I can be six inside
Penguins
Animals in general
Gravity
Solid things
The laws of physics
Philosophy
Bug spray
Lava lamps
Yellow paint
Paper
Coffee
Stars

All of these things are good.

The first few lines of my song go like this:

Do you remember when we built castle walls
With colored bricks to the ceiling of our skies?
Our friends and brothers came and knocked them down
But we built something better from the wreckage somehow.

I won’t say that everything happens for a reason, but often, bad things bring out the best in people. Often, something that just works has to be broken down to build something that works great. Often, we need a problem to create love; to create art; to create hope. That family’s story got out. Families will continue to face these kinds of problems, but amazing people will continue to tell their stories, and something will change. We just have to stay optimistic and hopeful because there is good in things, and there is good in people.

Christmas is supposed to be happy, and I just wanted to post something a little more optimistic today.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!