A Letter of Emotion...I Have not Forsaken You!

Dear Readers, 

Have you ever been so full of emotion that you don't know what to do with yourself? 
Have you felt excitement, and fear, and love for those around you all at once?
And have these emotions been so strong that you simply have to accept the strange but beautiful combination of feelings?
This is what I have been going through for the past few months, and despite my efforts, I haven't been able to sit down and pin point my feelings about anything. Recently, I'm easily swayed and stirred, and in a matter of seconds, I often go from being absolutely furious, to so in love and so happy that I find myself laughing...and then later, I laugh at my own stupidity.
Am I bipolar? Honestly, it feels like it sometimes. 

I don't know how to explain what I've been going through other than saying that I've been stuffed and unable to vent. I'm filled to the brim with feelings that are so deep and so real, that no amount of poetry, or song writing, singing, dancing, or long conversations at Starbucks can do them justice. 
So I've kept them to myself. 
The truth be told, these feelings are mostly wonderful and most nights I fall asleep in awe of how blessed I am. Even still, there's a part of me that is full, and wants these feelings expressed. 
I've been trying to do so. 
I've stared at blank documents and notebooks for weeks trying to empty my mind, but nothing ever resulted. I have realized that this is because I'm always striving for perfection; the perfect post. The perfect poem. 
The reality is, I'll never find that perfect piece because I'm not perfect, and neither are my feelings. Trying to force my heart into an alliteration or a limerick won't work because emotions were never meant to be structured. I guess freedom is one of the beauties of the heart. 

So here it is, my first blog post since the spring. Flawed, full of errors, and barely edited at all, but I could care less because even though it might be sloppy, it's a chip off of my heart. 
I guess the point I'm trying to prove to myself in all of this is that it doesn't matter how flawed something is-whether it's an assignment, or a performance, character traits or a shitty blog post that you wish was something amazing-what matters in the end is that you got your message across. 
I'm hoping that I did, and if not, here it is: perfection is an illusion.

For now, I'll sit at my kitchen table, looking out the patio door at the fall colours, sipping my Red Rose, and feeling a little bit lighter because I've "vented"...and also because I have finally published something on this nearly forsaken blog. 
Knowing myself, in about three hours or so, I'll reread over this post-which is the fastest piece I have ever written and published-laughing at myself because I really need to pull it together. 

Thank you for reading my ten minutes of "blah,"

-Laurel Farrell

Roadblock

You drive along the road,
To your destination.
You expect speed and ease,
Without complication.
Roadblock.

Suddenly your plans fade,
Like pictures in sunlight.
It's no use to organize,
When you don't use insight.
Roadblock.

If you had read the signs,
Maybe you would have known,
That there's construction here.
You don't know where to go.
Roadblock.

The panic settles in,
You thought that you knew best.
Intellectual fool,
No smarter than the rest.
Roadblock.

Now the stress of rush hour,
Yanks on your sanity.
You should've paid attention,
To signs, not vanity.
Roadblock.

You have what you wanted,
A clean face and crisp clothes,
But now you will be late.
The stupid things you chose.
Roadblock.

Stop.

Take an even breath in.
Realize there's a detour,
That's organized so you,
Won't worry anymore.
Roadblock?

This path will take more time,
Your choices injured you.
But you're not stuck forever,
Wondering what to do.
Detour.

Your struggles were foreseen,
By the foreman in charge.
Understand your problem,
Really isn't that large. 
Detour. 

A solution put in place, 
So that you wouldn't miss, 
All that you're meant to do, 
You can get around this...
Road Block. 

Reflections on a Birthday

I suppose this is the first 'pearl' I've written about in a while...surprisingly I've had a lot of fluid opinions flowing through my head, and they've organized themselves into words without difficulty. Today however, I've decided to dedicate a post to my birthday and everyone that helped to make it special. 

My Locker After Period One

As many of you know, this past Thursday I celebrated my sixteenth birthday.

In my family, it's tradition to take the week before your birthdate and celebrate each day leading up to your birthday as your "Birthday Week." This year was no exception. 

Amongst the business of our differing schedules, my family still found wonderful ways to make my birthday an important event, with different flowers each day, special meals and little present all leading up to April 3rd. 

On my birthday I woke up to find the kitchen decorated beautifully with pink streamers, purple balloons and several other things that had come as a result of my sisters' creativity. For breakfast, I ate a delicious display of waffles and bacon, with raspberries and whipped cream, and afterwards I took part in a dance party with my sisters before rushing off to chapel. 

My school day was full of amazing surprises from all of my friends, including incredible locker decorations, a disco ball, a tiara and presents galore! It was a wonderful day that was finished off with an even better dinner at a local pub and a very interesting game of pool. 

That night I opened a few presents from my sisters and watched a movie, while catching up on the night's homework. (Oh, the benefits of having a mid-week birthday...)

The next night my family treated me to a scrumptious supper at the Syndicate in Grimsby: a creamy mango chicken soup, eight ounces of rare steak accompanied by potatoes, followed by a creamy crème brûlée. Mmm.  

Saturday was spent in complete preparation for the family party that would take place the following day. I prepared ribs and sweet and sour meatballs to go along with several other decadent dishes, and by the end of the day everyone was exhausted. 

Sunday was wonderful! My family came from all over the place to celebrate my sixteenth birthday with me, and all in all we had a lot of fun. My birthday cake was extravagantly created by my little sister, who had put months of effort into sketching and designing the dessert. My reaction, when I discovered it was entirely musically themed, was priceless. The three layer chocolate cake with both dark and light chocolate ganache was delectable...especially when paired with espresso! 

Taken by Holly 

I'd like to thank everyone that was involved in my birthday-both my family and my friends. 

From surprises, to smiles, treats, and cards that made me cry, you all pitched in to make my 'Birthday Week' something special, and it means a lot to me. It's because of your love and your hard work that I can honestly say I had the most amazing birthday ever! That is...until next year!   

Thank you. 

Trust...Another Point

To believe someone no mater what.
To rely on them.
To place hope in them.
To follow them.
To believe their opinions.
To let them take care of you. 

     All of these are ways that we demonstrate and manifest our trust. Trust is a complex concept that seems so simple. Trusting someone means that we shouldn't have to worry, that our backs are covered and our burdens are relieved. It seems like everyone should have a person to trust, but it isn't always that simple. More often than not, trust is taken for granted and in the end, it is shattered, leaving us broken. 

The reality of trust has resulted in me torturing myself with two questions.
The first is "Who do I trust?" 
My answer, as I know it is for most of us, bases itself in others: family, friends, mentors. 
For some of us, we place our trust in our jobs or our schooling, our knowledge or our money. Sometimes we're so afraid of getting hurt by the world that we place our trust in ourselves to avoid its destruction.
Our trust can't be broken of we're the only ones that possess it, we think. 
This may seem true, but when we keep our trust to ourselves for long periods of time without letting anyone in, we end up believing that no one will ever deserve our trust, and as a result, our lives are lonely.
Why does it have to be so difficult? 

The second question I ponder is: Who should I trust? 
As Christians we all 'know' the answer. Some of us have heard it every Sunday from the time we were toddlers in the nursery. Some of us have heard it at camps, from our parents or even read it for ourselves in scriptures. Yes, God's word is pure and He is a shield to those who trust Him, but simply knowing this isn't enough...we need to believe it, and we need to act on it. 


Reading a recipe doesn't bake you chocolate chip cookies. You have to pull out the ingredients and follow the recipe in order to get the promised results. It's no different with God. 
We, as Christians, are professionals at knowing. We can read the Bible and quote scripture, we can go to church every Sunday and we can win countless quiz nights, but when it comes down to it, are we really acting on the recipe? Do we really advance the Kingdom of God? Do we really trust Him? We all know we should, just like we know we should mix dry ingredients and wet ones separately, but whether or not we put our knowledge into action is a different story. 

The Bible promises us that God will always look after us, and that we can place our trust in him no matter what, but reading that over and over again won't draw us closer to Him. We need to take action. We need to step off the edges of our cliffs in leaps of faith, and pursue relationship with God to see what incredible things he has in store for us. 
It's terrifying and difficult, but we need to fight through the struggle of trusting God because unlike worldly things, He will never fail us. He's got our backs. He will relieve us of our burdens and look after us for eternity if we ask him to. 
All we need to do is act on that recipe. 

Some trust in chariots and some trust in horses, but we put our trust in the name of the Lord.

~Psalm 20:7 

Pondering Love

What is love?

To hold someone forever, or to learn to let them go?
To share our hearts with others, or to hide them all alone?

Is it infatuation; an extremity of like?
Is it rare and genuine, hidden by a black disguise?

Can you feel it for many, or is love limited to one?
Is it between just men and women, or meant for everyone?

To love unconditionally, is difficult to do.
To love someone through dire straits, and base relationship on truth.

How can you love people in the 'right' and 'proper' way?
And how do you let them know? What's appropriate to say?

No one wants to be pushy, yet we all want to be heard.
We don't want to lose friendships, or end up being hurt.

Love is so condescending, it gives and then soon it takes.
It patronizingly tempts, and slowly steals our hearts away.

Can love become unhealthy, when you try to make it true?
So at end your efforts result in once more hurting you?

Is love way too serious, moulded to something it's not?
We're blind from misconceptions, and so love seems corrupt.

Is there an answer to this puzzle, or is love Pandora's Box? 
A treasure to admire, and to never be unlocked. 

Perhaps the secret to love, is to stop disrupting fate,
To truly be yourself, and see if things correlate.

Perhaps the secret to all love, is to simply learn to wait
Because once it's discovered, we don't need to actuate.

Winterberries

To my fellow pessimists…

In winter, our world becomes cold and is ultimately void of life.
Green grasses succumb to soft white blankets and robins leave the trees to themselves in pursue of gentler temperatures. There isn't much to do other than stay inside, enveloped in warm blankets, sipping tea, and longing for better days.
In nature's dormancy it seems that the planet has been robbed of all its beauty, and the lack of loveliness puts us in a state of depression; a chilled, tired, tea drenched, sweater wearing depression.
Sunlight has all but abandoned and left us to winter's icy grasp, and as a result, we feel betrayed.
Snow Shovelling.
Slipping.
Salting.
Winter's a demon…cold, heartless and abusive.

However, in the midst of this torture where grey skies reign victoriously at negative ten degrees, there is a remedy that can cure all despondence. It's small and can be hard to find, but whether in the hearts of forests or out in open fields, once discovered it is a precious beacon of hope to those in need.
The ruby glow of winterberries cast against crisp white is a sign that is often overlooked, but is strong in symbolism nonetheless:
Life in the midst of death.
Beauty in the midst of misfortune.
Simplicity in the midst of perplexity.

These modest little berries send us messages, but it's sad to think that we usually only see them in our greatest times of desperation. 
Think about it. If these fragile little berries can survive harsh winters, then maybe they're a sign to us that not only can we survive the winter season, but that we can make it through the blizzards in our lives as well. 

We need to search for the positives in every challenging situation because when discovered, they can bring us great healing. Whether they are happy memories, or certain people that impact our everyday lives. As inconspicuous as winterberries, these moments and memories, whether buried deep inside us or hidden in plain sight, give us something to believe in. They provide us with hope and reassurance that there is peace in the eye of the storm and a light at the end of each tunnel. 
Memories give us something to hold onto so that when we are forced to go through struggle and pain, we have moments of the past to treasure. If we go through life in pursue of these treasures we may find that when tragedy strikes we are stronger. 

If we keep our eyes open, our minds clear and our heart aware, we might just discover our winterberries in the places that we least expect them. 

Old News

I'm slightly disgusted with myself. 

It's a horrid truth knowing that in everything I've blogged about-unedited free verse and puppet symbolism-I've forgotten to write about a very important event. 

In October I found out that I won the Fresh Ink 2013 contest! 

It's only taken me three months to blog about it…and I have no excuse. 

As I said before, I'm slightly disgusted…and that is to say the least. 

I was announced the first place winner and awarded $100 in prize money, as well as published in the St. Catharines Library magazine. The magazine was by far the best part of the prize, as it meant that I was officially a published author. My life is a little bit closer to being complete. 

I had the pleasure of reading my story at the awards ceremony, as well as meeting some of the chair members of the library. 

As small as the contest was, it was really extraordinary for me to be able to share my writing with other people and to hear the praise and compliments I received over a single chapter. 

For those of you that haven't read the story, you can do so here, or by clicking the tab "Fresh Ink 2013" at the top of the page. 

I hope you enjoy the chapter, and once again, I apologize for my lack of commitment to my blog. I wish I had shared this with you earlier, but I guess old news is better than no news at all!

A Dusty Poem

Whilst flipping though the dusty pages of a notebook, I found this poem scribbled down. Thought I might share, since I haven't posted in a while. 

If I had to walk a million miles, 

In someone else's shoes. 

The issue wouldn't be the walking,

But just whose shoes to choose.  

If I had to walk a million miles, 

For someone else's sin, 

I'd stand up straight and suck up my pride,

And boldly lift my chin…

Because that's what Jesus did. 

For someone else's sin,

In someone else's shoes,

He was slaughtered on the cross, 

He died for me and you.