We all have questions.

I'm confused about the nature of the modern world and how we live in it. We either have no drive or passion to really live and explore and do things with our lives, or we're driven for all the wrong reasons and don't even know why we're intent on being what we're trying to become and we feel void of happiness because we're not really living the way people should be, which is from the heart. Why do we work a job we hate just to save up money for no reason and put value on what we're told to put value on and go through each day being successful from the world's perspective but rotting on the inside, because sometimes a moment comes and hits us and we see what we're doing and what we're becoming and we hurt because it's not what our heart wants, we just were too weak to follow it and instead followed our idea of what the world wants from us. And that leaves us dry inside and wasted outside. We can't do that and we can't waste time, because we don't know how much of it we have and the world is a treasure chest brimming over with opportunity and we can pick and choose them and win and lose them and every jewel is a promise, not for worldly success, but for a chance to flourish and feel alive. The world says we fail? Then we take a different gem. We cannot fail. We can stop trying and we can reject opportunity. But life is not a win or lose game. It's a sit or run game. Either sit stagnantly and hopelessly or run with wide arms to catch what the air has for you and breathe it into your lungs and capture it there inside you until you must burst it out and take another gulp. Why don't we all live like this? Are we followers at heart or leaders? Are we scared of the world or overwhelmed by it? Do we listen to our insides churning and showing the truth of ourselves or do we swallow the words read and voices heard and take in all that is outside, becoming then something outside of ourself instead of pouring ourselves out into the world to evoke change? We have it all backwards. Who would each of us be without any influence but ourselves? We build ourselves out of others. Is that necessarily wrong? I don't think so. But it's sometimes sad, because in the midst of that we lose our heart and how to recognize it's pulse and we become very, very lost.

I write to lose, and in that, I gain.

This poem, or short story if the background is understood, portrays a distant but constant force inside me. In these few lines, I tell a story that's tread mile upon mile across my heart. Not every story needs an ending, but this story wants one. I end it with these words and therein mark the finish line inside my heart. A race not won; merely run.
These words are like a sticker on my soul. As I peel it off and place them on the page, it's a similar sensation to peeling away a scab. You must not be too early or the pain will be strong, and not be too late or the fun is all gone. Right in between is where it belongs. Strip it off quickly; it hurts, then it's gone.

May 26th, 2014
Eschar

Open mouth, listless stare
turn away, never care
point at her, save your face
piercing eyes.
But you didn't even look.
And I don't want you to.
Fist flies at empty air
bruises are everywhere
neck strains with stubborn pride
salt licked words.
But you didn't even hear.
And I don't want you to.
Pinch the scar, trace the line
bodies all ache with time
burns are just burns are just
burns. Mine.
But you didn't even care.
And I don't need you to.

Don't dress for success or even at all.

Fake is fake and fake is bad.

…Words of wisdom from Johanna while we sauntered through Wegberg eating our ice creams in the sunshine, racing to finish them before the sun did. How I've missed the refreshing ice cream and HOW I've missed my dear Johanna. Last night we snuggled up in her bed and I tickled her back while we listened to Greg's Tagebuch and she fell asleep tucked into my arms just as if I hadn't been gone a single day. My emotions have been swimming in the murkiest of places since being back in Germany and I'd try to explain it, but it's putting me in a muddle just thinking about explaining it. I've barely jotted down more than a few paragraphs in my journal since I've been here and for anyone who knows me, they know that's not at all very much. The outer layers of my emotions tell me not to write and not to think about any part of my journey and the residing emotions from May 20th, because they are saving me from all the tears for a time when I am stronger. The point where my mind allows me to begin from is when I lugged myself and my two suitcases, with the help of the train conductor, from the Erkelenz train station and heard Jojo scream my name. I looked up and saw her running through all the people with her arms open wide, wearing her new blue dress and a huge smile across her face. Then came Pia and Gereon and Britta. After that, I slept. And slept and slept. On Friday, I woke up in the morning and never got out of bed. I half slept all day until 6, had some dinner and took a walk and then slept all night too with the help of my old friend Nyquil. Although I was very tired, I think part of me was uninspired to get out of bed and live in my day. I just kept rolling over and shutting the day out. Depression always hits me when I first move. It doesn't necessarily mean that I've made the wrong choice, but it always happens, that heaviness that you try and pray away. Saturday was my first day feeling remotely like myself and I enjoyed it fully. I drove with the Heinens to the Eifel in the mountains to get their new puppy! 

Most mornings, the coffee cup I choose to drink from determines a lot for my day. It seems silly, but for coffee lovers, perhaps it makes sense. This morning I reached for a blue cup with seagulls on it, but the blue suddenly seemed too blue and too dark and my eyes lit instead upon a powder blue cup with a big daisy painted across it that seconded as a smile and I just knew I needed a smiling daisy to start my day. Today has been partly work, partly play, and now I need to get to some more work… that's why I'm writing a blog instead. I love procrastination. This is almost like double procrastination too, because I went and got ice cream with Jojo instead of doing my work. But now it's really time. I have to finish my application so I can hand it in this week. Tomorrow starts a scary/relieving week. Scary, because I'm going to find out if I can go to school and when I need to take the math test I've been dreading, and relieving because I'll know results and therefore, what to do from there. This week I'm also meeting with my future boss about the business English job. There are a lot of open ends and a few might get closed this week, so I'm a little on edge! 

It might not seem like it, but I'm happy to be back in Germany. I cleaned my bike today and just gazed lovingly at it for a while. Sadly, I'm no longer the outspoken one you've come to know and maybe love, but instead I'm back to the trying to get out the right words in the right order in this ridiculous language I decided to learn one. It's great fun.

I miss Alaska. More than a crazy amount. But I know I'll come back and I'm taking in where I am in the moment I'm given and learning and growing and enjoying. That's the only way for me to live. 

And look! I've got some new poems! 

Clothed in your love, untamed, no shame
I bore your weight, I wore your name
Proud on my skin I let you in.
Skipping beats and missing breaths
You watched me love you, now watch me press
My cheek onto your chest 
And memorize your face
Oh I knew every corner and line; you were my favorite place.

When you take each mystery you meet and tie them about you just tight enough to breathe, their cords will wind around and twist across and entwine throughout the shackles on your skin to break the bolts that hold you low and lift the corners of your soul that slacken from the weight of all you know and know and know you have to stop, unlock your cage and fly away in mystery.


Nothing else comes from my heart to my brain to my fingers to the pen to the paper like you do. But I don't want to write about you and your eyes and your sighs and the color of your skin with your whispers on my cheek that slip into my ears and wake me from my sleep. 
You and your kaleidoscope of glances, how they caught me and enchanted all the dull necessities of life so I could gaze forever and always and only see you.
Trying to leave you has led me astray; pushed my colored world into a dull, relentless gray, and so I grip on firmly to the precious ideal that our time could be endless and our love could be real.

Oh what I would give

To push out all the lead that's been building in my bones and dragging me along as each day brings me closer to leaving from one home to the other. I battle it every day although I know it's a battle that can't be won. Two completely different worlds it seems. And being in one strips me of my vision for the other. I can't help but adapt. The first few months being in Alaska again were so difficult. I fought through some days, and others I just cried or laid glued to my bed, aching for home, for Germany. I remember similar months back in 2011 when I moved to Germany. Well, that ache began to ease up as I found work, got into a musical, met new people, etc etc. It was beyond what I'd expected and as March rolled around, I realized I was more content then I'd planned on and this was amazing but also not part of the plan I'd organized inside my heart. Now it's going to hurt me to leave and I'd made sure I planned on it not hurting at all. That's what I get for trying to plan and organize my future so precisely. I'm sitting here now, with a swollen mouth, no more wisdom teeth and nothing to do except sleep, so I'm pushing past the exhaustion the pain meds bring on and I'm finally letting myself write out the thoughts that I've held for the past months. I haven't let myself write at all during my time here. I won't let myself because I know that when I begin to write, it all comes out. It's actually quite similar to when I'm speaking and I can't contain any small detail to anyone. But writing accesses a different part of my brain, a more intimate section and I am sometimes scared at what will come out, because I don't always like the truth. I think what hurts me the most is that I know I will get used to missing them all over again. The ones I hold so dear in my heart. I'll stop being sad at the end of my day that I can't tell Boogie about all the little things that made me laugh or smile or cry or anything really. Just being able to be involved in the lives of those I love. It hurts me that the pain will fade. And I'm scared. I'm so scared that I won't succeed. And saying that is so ridiculous, because I know so fully that success is not measured the way the world measures it. And I know that no matter what happens, I can flourish in it and learn from it. So I should not be afraid, yet I am. And I tell myself I will power through and keep going, because I believe in my dreams and the reality of working towards them is always worth it. I'm in the middle of my dreams right now and I believe that is the hardest place. This is the time where I have to work my hardest, give every inch of myself over to doing whatever I need to in order to accomplish my dreams. I'm going to do it. And that's what I convince myself of every time the shadows come and try to erase my passion and my courage. What is life for, if not to live it exactly so? Life can only truly be considered life to me if I feel alive and that comes through pursuing my passion with courage. Okay, my pep talk to myself is finished and now I'm back to reality and my mouth is aching again. Honestly, I'm more sad to leave Alaska than I ever have been. But I can flourish. I have so many joys and adventures awaiting me, and difficulties too. But I accept that and am going to let it come and embrace it all and this will strengthen my vision and fill me with life and I'm not ready for May 20th to come, but it will. And I will step onto that plane with tears pouring down my face and I'll hate myself for leaving again and love myself for going after my dreams. And yes, it's a very confusing feeling to have! But as Howard Therman put it, "Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." 
And some poetry, as with every post!

March 3rd, 2014
You gouge me out in tiny bits to feast upon my love
Flesh wrapped around your fingertips, you wear me like a glove
The softness of your breath slips out and swallows up my soul
It slowly burns across my chest, raw heat out of control
No definition in the lines criss-crossed throughout my mind
I've prayed to God so many times 
For sight, but I am blind
You scrape across me seamlessly, I'm collecting under your nails
And as you stop to look at me the voice inside me fails
I whisper up into your eyes, "sweet, sweet love where did you go?"
Your lips are silencing my cries; the man I love I do not know

One Side
I came from oceans and miles away
To this strange land of green and grey
My feet took me in a rhythmic glide
And laughter was stitched into my side

A traveler's heart beats wild and free
There is no place where it should be
Yet certain lands retain their mark
And leave inside a lingering spark

I walked upon a crevassed meadow
It deepened my step and darkened my shadow
Breathing the scent of grass and tree
The soil appeared as one with me

But as seasons were swept away in the air
No buds pinched the soil to hear my prayer
My heart flowed with water to quench the land
Returning with failure cupped in my hand

I came home with bruises crushed into my skin
Swollen with lies and colored with sin
Tears stain the corners of crumbling walls
Softening the stones of hope and resolve

These aren't mistakes, the choices I  make
Leading me down a path of disgrace
With dust on my face; pain all over the place
I swallow the grit of the truth I displaced

Drei Tage

Die Zeit vergeht unheimlich schnell... nach 28 Monaten, gehe ich wieder zurück nach Hause in Alaska. Während meiner Zeit in Deutschland, habe ich eine Sprache Prüfung bestanden, eine neue Kultur kennengelernt, und auch noch andere Dinge geschafft. Aber ich komme nicht nur mit etwas in der Hand zurück, sondern auch mit etwas in meinem Herzen. Und das ist am wichtigsten, oder? Obwohl ich in fünf Monaten wieder zurück komme, werde ich meine "zweite Familie" sehr vermissen. Die haben mir die Kultur in Deutschland gezeigt und mich in der Familie Willkommen hießen. Ich weiß immer noch den Moment, als ich Christoph zum ersten mal am Bahnhof gesehen hab und wie er mich angelächelt hat. Genau dann wusste ich, dass diese Familie die richtige Familie für mich wäre... und ich hatte Recht! Ich denke an die Kinder und wie sie mich ganz am Anfang gegrüßt hatten, als ich zum ersten mal da war. Ich kam durch die Tür rein und sie kamen die Treppen runter mit Schlafanzüge an und schaute mich süß und schüchtern an. Die Britta hatte mich umarmt und das war's. Familie. :) Und nun muss ich mich zusammenreißen und mich auf Sonntag vorbereiten! Vor ein paar Tagen, lag die Johanna und ich im Bett und sie hat mich umarmt und leise geflüstert, "Karly, I don't want that you go." Ein paar Tränen kamen aus meinen Augen raus als wir da im Dunkelheit lagen. Dann hat sie gefragt ob ich singen konnte, genau wie ich früher immer gesungen hatte. Ich sang ein paar Weihnachtslieder und danach lag ich eine weile neben ihr und versucht den Moment zu genießen. Wenn ich an Gereon denke, dann merke ich wie er sich geändert hat. Nicht mehr ist er ein kleiner Junge, sondern ein junger Mann. Er ist so witzig, manchmal muss ich einfach nur lachen wenn er etwas sagt. Am Anfang, hatte er Angst vor Englisch sprechen und jetzt spricht er unglaublich viel und hat auch Lust drauf!!! Ich freue mich so sehr für ihn und ich bin stolz auf die beiden und wie gut sie Englisch sprechen können. Ich habe nur geredet und mit den Kindern gespielt. DIE haben super Englisch ganz alleine gelernt! Ich würde sagen, ab nach Alaska mit den beiden!
Deutschland ist wie meine zweite zu Hause und ich freue mich schon auf Mai. Ich danke alle meine Freunden, die ich kennengelernt habe und freue mich auf unseren Wiedersehen. Danke, dass ihr in meinem Leben seid!
Am Sonntag, werde ich bestimmt weinen, aber freuen wird auch dabei sein. Meine Familie habe ich unglaublich viel vermisst und auf die Zeit mit denen endlich wieder zu verbringen freue ich mich riesig. Besonders der Moment wenn ich die alle zum ersten mal sehe. :) Daran muss ich denken und dann geht's mir gut, trotz die traurige Gefühle, die auch dabei sind. Ich verabschiede mich nicht, sondern sage ich nur, "bis dem nächsten mal!"

Gathering

I looked down into my lap yesterday and saw a gathering of experiences shooting out short clips of remembrance. I saw the bus driver who gave me gloves and a hat on my first day of German class because it was winter and he thought I should dress warmer. I saw the ferry that took the Heinens and me to the island of Juist where we sat and played card games. I saw the mailman walking up the driveway delivering my bike to me. I saw myself sitting in the exam room, heart racing, as I scribbled out as many grammatically correct German thoughts as possible into my essay. I saw the children running down the stairs on Christmas eve to open their presents. I saw Britta squeezing me tightly and telling me I was like a daughter to her. I saw the platform in Erkelenz where I stepped out to meet Christoph for the first time and saw him smiling. I saw the rope swing tree next to the River Rhine where I would sit and pray during my first lonely weeks. I saw Memo leaning against a lamppost in Cologne while I nervously shook his hand and stammered out what I hoped was my name. I saw Jojo running over and jumping into my arms and smacking a big kiss on my lips before leaving for school, rescuing me from one of the most homesick mornings ever. I saw myself holding a beer and speaking in broken German to Opa in the garden. I saw Gereon and I playing ping pong while I gave him girl advice. I saw myself sitting on the stairway crying and wanting to go home. I saw my mom standing in the drunkards corner by the train station in Duesseldorf with a bright pink vest and running to hug her after 13 months of her absence. I saw Johanna walking up the church aisle in her first communion dress, glowing. I saw myself biking through fields and forests and villages to Holland and wishing I never had to leave. I saw the map of Europe and the places I'd seen and discovered. I saw how much bigger the world became to me over the past 27 months. 

And now here I am, with an empty flat, suitcases on the ground and sticky notes everywhere reminding me of a day I will love and hate. 23 days from now. It's becoming clearer and more real with each morning that comes. I sit at the lunch table and get sentimental. I work on English homework with the kids and reminisce. I'm cherishing every moment that comes my way with the children and not letting myself think too hard about my emotions. I see a transformation with Gereon and Jojo from two German kids who were sweet, loving and eager to learn my language, into two mini grown ups who see me more as a sister than anything else. And I couldn't desire anything more. I was able to influence so much of their lives and they, in turn, influenced mine. They learned from me and I from them. You know, most Au Pairs don't reference their host families later after they leave. They speak of them kindly, but more as a past experience, a section of their life. As for me, I can't even bring myself to say 'my host family' but instead confuse everyone by referring to them simply as 'my family' because it's the truth. Through some of the best and worst times of my life, they were there. We've seen the worst and best of each other and there have been many moments of annoyance, embarrassment and disappointment. And that's exactly why I can call them family. I think of my family in Alaska and how madly I love them and also how much they make me want to poke my eyes out. That's how it works, isn't it? The blessing it has been to learn how to be live with and be incorporated into a German family is so much more than I imagined. It was not always easy for us to live with each other and work through the cultural differences, but it was a beautiful result. I adapted and I learned and I think they did too. I love them all ever so dearly for all that they have taught me and all the love they've given me and mostly for the amazing and passionate people that they are!!!

So I'm ready now. I'm ready to pack my bags, however sad it is, and fly to my family in Alaska. I'm ready for a new page. My pockets are full but I feel lighter than ever! 

Hands held high

No other way to give them up except to throw them in the air. All my cares. I'm feeling like I first did when I arrived in Germany. Those beginning months where you're scared and sad and feel crazy emotional and not entirely like yourself. Turns out that the last three months and the first three months really aren't all that different. Instead of crying or screaming or pouting (all of which I've tried and it didn't help) I sat down and wrote like a fanatic. Here are some small portions of what spilled out.


Joy.
His paint is brushing across her skin
Coloring each crevice and curve of her body with elegance and ease
Slivers of light gleam daintily through the panes of her eyes
And she cries, she cries.
He is bright, he brings light to her form
Shadowing in the corners of her soul
Erasing errors with a gentle stroke
Swirls of color rush across her 
And she cries, she cries.
Alive inside the wild streaks of blues and golds
Her tears fall freely and fully 
Colored drops fall from her skin to his 
Coating him in his art, his love
And he cries, he cries.



Maybe I'm teetering on the edge of your grace
I tighten my face
You can lower my place, just don't take grace
The splendor of the heavens could be dim lit for me
I don't need to see
All that I plea is don't take grace
Hell's fire could tickle the soles of my feet
I don't mind the heat
As long as I leap up into your grace
But I don't understand, I don't understand
Do we all fit in your hand?
Tell me you can, tell me your plan
Please be bigger than I am.

Observations
I have a wild heart and I don't always do things the way others think I should. Sometimes I'm a fool, sometimes I'm stubborn, sometimes I care way too much of how others think of me. And sometimes I don't know the reason why I get up every morning and live. I don't know what keeps me breathing. Suppose it was hope. If I didn't hope for the next breath I would not take it. Each breath is a tiny fulfilled hope. I have to believe just to breathe. But hopes are not just tiny. There are bigger ones like hoping for a pleasant day or hoping for the strength to conquer a struggle or hoping for the mastering of a skill and those hopes keep us breathing in and out. So if I can have small hope and big hope, what about eternal hope? Because we all know that at any time our next breath won't come. At one point all of us will have that hope fail us. But there must be an eternal hope, one that all the other hopes were built upon, were formed out of. I hold this eternal hope that strengthens all the smaller hopes within the expansion of my lungs. A hope that there is more than this life. The hope that all the constrictions in my heart and strains on my soul will be lifted. Hope for that emptiness in my eyes to be filled and the questions in my mind to be at rest. With every breath I'm hoping for Love to come for me and smooth my every crease that I may finally have life.

Clings to the tree, bound but free; green
Loosens hold, doesn't want to be told; gold
Twirls to the ground, flutters down; brown
We are all leaves.