4th of July

Or: The inevitability of time

Wow, deep right?

See, we didn’t quite have time to finish our ice cream. I was eating my cookie dough extra chocolate chip caramel chocolate sauce deliciousness while stressing out about not stressing, and then suddenly the sky was dark and we were biking along the road as rain started to fall, fireworks going off in the distance. Violent in comparison to soft lights from the restaurants we passed. It was not bad. It was one of my favourite moments of the whole evening. But as we hopped off and stood next to our bikes the sentence ‘The inevitability of time‘ popped into my head.

We just bike alongside that time. Sing with it. Get rained on, messed up, as it flows by like the wind and grabs our hair and hands with the unforgiveness of a ringing bell. The sound of it is breaking my bones from the inside out. I was just supposed to be here for a short time. Last year was the fourth of july I was supposed to experience. Now it’s no longer just a small window or good perspective into a culture that is not mine, but it’s tradition for me too. There will be another fourth of July, and the sun will sink as a countdown until the fireworks start again, if I die, if I live, if I stop caring. It continually exists. Apart from me. Maybe that’s what I’m saying.

Anyway. It was one of those moments when finding a specific set of words and using them to define the moment, the experience, the lesson, made me feel better, calmer, satisfied with existence because it means I am here, I am growing, I am seeing this moment as being something.

(And is it ever something. My heart sings with it, beats with it, and I am just lost enough)



I came home wednesday feeling like there was nothing left of me. Or maybe like I was an aquarium, filled to the brim with water that could flood my eyes or hands at any moment.

I suppose it was some sort of emotional exhaustion. There were all the things I wrote about in the last post, but then it just continues. Saying goodbye to people I won’t see before I go, having my last day in school and saying goodbye to students and teachers, hanging out with friends and having our annual ‘summer is here’ restaurant visit with the family. I came home from that and it was as if each of my limbs felt different things. Maybe the stress was in my right arm and the calm in my left. I was left feeling nothing. As if they cancelled each other out.

Anyway, then I went to bed, and felt better when I woke up. It’s weird how simple complicated things are. And now start the last few days of being home, packing, and occasionally hanging out with someone and saying goodbye. Maybe I’ll go make pancakes for breakfast.

Hufflepuff humility (My Visa interview)

I don’t know if I’ve written on this blog about the fact that I’m moving to America again..

Well, I am. Or I’m trying to.

The other day I went to the American embassy in Stockholm, to have my visa interview. The guy interviewing me was not happy. I’m not gonna tell you all the details, but basically he asked why I had been there for 6 months before, but now I wanted to go back to America again. He kept talking over me about how visas are not just granted to anyone, and I didn’t really know what to say, but just kept excusing for all the things I had apparently done. Which I think might be good, because I hope this is one of those things where they’re just supposed to show you who’s boss, and then it’s better to not get sassy back.

Anyway, they said they’d let me know by the end of the week whether I got the visa or not. I said ‘okay, how?’ He just looked up from his papers and stared at me. ‘We’ll let you know.’ Then he looked down again. Okay dude, chill.

On another note, I also bought a set of Harry Potter socks when I was in Stockholm, and I’ve been wearing the hufflepuff ones. I think clothing is great when it comes to reminding yourself about who you are or need to be. Some days you need red lipstick to feel powerful, or Gryffindor socks to feel brave. (I’m sorry for anyone not getting these references). But I’ve been needing hufflepuff socks, for humility and forgiveness. (I swear it helps.) Humility in forgiving instead of judging my interviewer, and humility in accepting whichever direction God leads me in. Because I want to go to America because I think God is calling me there, right? So imagine I don’t get the visa, why is my biggest fear what I should tell everyone? Shouldn’t I be excited about what other things God is gonna lead me into instead of focusing on my pride?

So, hufflepuff socks and faith. Waiting builds character and all that, but I’m not gonna lie and say that I like it.


(Fun fact: Apparently there’s a temple in India where you can go and pray specifically for visa issues; *link* hmm..)