a quarter come and gone

they say the majority of western society experiences something akin to a mid-life crisis, usually ranging between the ages of 30- 60 years of age and typically brought on by a feeling of uselessness or even boredom. we joke about this phenomenon in our culture, imagining old men buying sports cars and old women getting boob jobs; we think it's funny that someone has lived their life year after year after year only now to realize they don't know what they want or how to get it.

but what about us youngsters? what about those of us who spent 75% of their life being told what to think and where to go and what to do and even when to pee...? we are let out into the world with endless possibilities for life, expecting doors to be opened for us as they have been before, anticipating greatness and excitement and adventure. i've been out of college now for 3 years and am still floundering under the weight of such expectation. not only do i have the constant pressure of deciding what i want to do day by day, but i have the overwhelming thoughts of future life looming overhead... what do i want to do with this life i've been given? where in the entire world do i want to live? who do i want to spend my time with? does that person or people want to spend their time with me? am i too young to settle down and plant some roots or should i continue to float from place to place avoiding any lasting commitments? how do i pursue the life i want while factoring in money and loans and future finances? it's a wonder we don't see more grey-haired 25 year olds walking around!

i've recently been given a fresh start; i can do anything with my life- live anywhere, surround myself with whomever and whatever i please... and the idea of choosing continues to daunt me.

i have a mellow and rather old soul- those who know me can attest to this- so naturally when i think of what i like to do and how i picture life i imagine it calm and peaceful. gardens, sewing, baking, lazy afternoons at the park, long walks, chickens, hula hooping, spending time with friends and family, spending time writing, front porches, and good books. and there's nothing wrong with these things- they make me happy and fill my time adequately.

but those who know me may also notice that i surround myself with adventuresome people; people who encourage me to live life to it's fullest and take some risks. these people help keep me from boring myself, they challenge me to live the kind of life i dream about whether by adding more travel, unique outings, varied socializing, or even new hobbies into my humdrum daily life. without these people, i would fail to reach my full potential; i would become stagnant and dull.

so as day passes day, while i continue to stress and plan and worry over my future and what to do, i now wonder if there is a way to introduce some more vibrancy into my life. i could easily find a place to settle down for the next year or two or ten. i could plant a garden, buy some chickens, fill my time with hobbies and activities i love, all while working toward some future goal of a life and career and whatever... but is it enough? what about the small yearning for adventure that lays hidden deep within? do i continue to rely on others to fulfill that need in spurts? do i risk increased loneliness by striking out on my own? do i settle for what's safe and familiar while attempting regular trips to exotic places or vice versa? i used to dream of traveling the country in my el camino (which is yet to become a reality), with all my possessions packed in back and a companion at my side (probably a canine)... but is that still ideal?

i've been bogged down with so many realities of life, financial, relational, practical- that i can't tell if i'm being realistic or pessimistic. undoubtably, i would be lonely traveling alone. although one can argue that i'd be lonely living by myself too. financially speaking, working regular hours with a regular paycheck is necessary, but work shouldn't control my whole young life. not yet anyway. so where does that leave me?

for today, all i can do is address my frustration and admit my utter confusion. undoubtably, time will continue to flit by, bringing my decisions nearer and nearer. it's possible, my inability to choose will make the decision for me, but we shall see when we reach september. for today, all i can do is wonder.

father and daughter

i have always been a daddy's girl.  never mind the fact that my first word was daddy or that i have his eyes, ever since i was little i loved to hang around my dad.  

we used to do all these cool projects when i was growing up.  mom said it started when i was still an infant; she would put me in the truck with dad as he snow-plowed overnight for work, he'd steer the large vehicle with his left hand and feed me my bottle with his right.  actually, the very first memory i have in life is mulching the back yard with him.  i remember i was wearing these real itchy, blue wool tights under a dress and it was just about to get dark... i begged mom to let me stay and help daddy just a little longer and to my amazement, she agreed.  i was so proud to be the one helping him with such an important task!

growing up with two sisters didn't change things.  i was usually the one trailing behind dad, laughing at his goofy humor, begging him to let me help in the garage, or to play soccer out front.  teenage girl years admittedly slowed some of the bonding- as it turned out i was not his middle son disguised as a girl- but we managed just the same.  i remember when mom forced me to tell him about my first kiss.  i was so nervous... how should a dad react to his little girl's first kiss with a boy?  but he just got this huge grin on his face, raised one hand in the air and surprised us all when he yelled "score!"

elizabeth andrews, in her list of writing exercises states, "Most memoir explores the basic question, "Who am I?"...." instead, she challenges young writers to consider the question, "whose am i?"

i am a daddy's girl.  and yet, somewhere along the way i've become an independent woman.  a woman struggling to forge her own path and experience life and love and faith on her own terms.  i've grown accustomed in these few short years living on my own, to make my own decisions- hell, i decided to travel half way across the globe without consulting anyone.

but what happens when those two identities clash?  when my stubborn independence butts heads with my sense of duty, obligation and respect for those who raised me? how do i confidently make my own choices and live the life i've grown into knowing full well it will break their heart and possibly ruin the bond years have been spent making.  at what point do i choose independent woman over daddy's girl... and why can't i have both?

writing exercise 1

after googling elizabeth andrews, a local author that always seems to speak directly to my soul, i came across a website she hosts and a long list of writing exercises she hopes will spur on the budding writer.. ie: me.  and so in an attempt to make more time for my writing/blogging, i figure this is a good place to start.  i hope this to be a helpful and inspirational tool.  

writing exercise 1: moccasin-like faith

i've heard one's spiritual journey likened to many things in my day.  things like a journey or pilgrimage come to mind, or even the budding of a small seedling and the blossoming of a flower.  i have not, however, ever come across anyone who referred to their spiritual life as the breaking in and wearing out of a favorite pair of shoes, that is of course until elizabeth andrews.  

i have a pair of moccasins that i've worn nearly every day for the past four years.  they're originally light tan in color with a sort of ballet-flat-meets-mary-jane style to them and topped off with just the right touch of fringe on the toe.  i found them at a random department store one day while doing some more important shopping with mom, probably christmas or birthday shopping seeing as we rarely go to the mall without a necessary purpose.  i was trying on a pair of old-man slippers, the kind that are of moccasin design with fur-lining and intended for indoor use only, when the kind saleslady, surely appalled at my choice, brought me this pair of trendy and obviously more appropriate Arizona brand moccasins- with soles and everything!  i tried them on but was hesitant at their obvious trend-appeal... they were so new and girly.  "just give them a few weeks," mom said sensing my disapproval... "they'll wear in."  

and they did.  those shoes marked a significant turning point in my shoe-buying career.  once a girl with a closet full of shoes for every and any occasion, i found this single pair useful for just about all of them.  i donated all my old kicks and was thrilled at the freedom having one pair of shoes gave me.  no more deliberating on what pair to wear, or selecting an outfit based on what shoes were most fitting for the day.  hell no! these shoes were fit for all occasions, such as going to class, running downstairs to check the mail, trekking to the supermarket clad in sweatpants, or dressing up for the occasional fancy dinner.  i began wondering why a person ever needed multiple pairs of shoes anyway when having one was more than enough.

besides, these shoes were comfortable! the ever-wear and tear of these once trendy moccasins helped form them to the exact shape of my foot.  slipping them on was like finding my foot's true and obvious home.  worn in the summer, they kept my feet cool with their open top and light-weight, while worn in winter, they allowed for the additional 3 pairs of wool socks and leg-warmers.   i found myself wearing these same shoes on long hikes across rocky terrain with no problem and yet i had no desire to remove them once inside comfortable on the couch.. they were and had become, an extension of my own, natural feet.

but as with any comfort.  there comes a time when one begins to wonder what else is out there.  passing a shoe store, i couldn't help but glance at all the fancy styles and colors i was missing out on: high heels in classy bronze, shimmery-sequenced ballet flats, mustard yellow mary-janes... the excitement i could have in those!  looking at the shoes i would never own was fun in a way, but always ended with me gazing back at my familiar and well-worn, darkened-tan, fringed toes and smiling at my own contentment.  

my moccasins lasted me just over four years before the souls started rubbing down, exposing a single large toe on each foot.  i tried in vain to cover the hole- i even took a friends advice and melted the rubber of an old bike-tire into the hole, filing it down for aesthetic purposes.  but nothing worked... i knew this $19.50 pair of shoes had walked their last mile.  

but where to now?  i scoured the internet for arizona brand moccasins but came up empty handed.  shame that moccasins were so trendy for so long- seems everyone and their mom makes a pair, pointy-toed and embellished with flowers and beads.  nothing seemed to fit.  not even the $10 pair of rocket dogs i impulsively picked up at a famous footwear in iowa. (sidenote: rocket dog had previously been a reliable shoe company since they catered to the wide-footed, round-toed crowd i identified with).

my sister suggested minnetonka moccasins, a leather moccasin provider found at the I-80 truck stop of all places.  so one saturday afternoon, my mom, sister and i all took a drive out to one of the largest truck stops in the country to hunt for my moccasin replacement, and *surprise* we ended  up coming home with three pair! one for me, one for mom, and one for my boyfriend carl (since i couldn't have a boyfriend that didn't know the magic of moccasins).  

this new pair began a bit snug; they were darker in color, the fringe more obvious and the soles more noticeable.  when i looked down on them, they didn't look like my own feet for quite some time.  but i trusted that they would begin to wear. soon enough, their color was more faded and dirt-covered, their soles wore down, and they too began to mold to my feet.  in an attempt to make them last a bit longer than the last pair, i've also invested in a cheap pair of boots for the winter- comfortable enough that i'll actually wear them come snow- but not so comfortable that i'll sneak my moccasins out for dry-ish winter days.

as i remember this long history i've had with my moccasins, i can't help but think how fitting it is as a tool to describe my own spiritual journey.  born into the church, i accepted my spirituality without knowing how unique and special it was.  at first, i was ever aware of it's presence, but after awhile, my spiritual life seemed a constant companion.  i grew into it in all the right ways; fit snug into it's warmth and comfort.  it got to where i didn't even need to think about my spiritual life at all, it was reliable and ever-present- fitting with whatever circumstance i faced.  when life was good, my faith in god was to thank, and when life turned hard, my faith was there to pull me through.  

but like a well-worn pairs of shoes, one's spiritual journey requires alterations if it's going to remain vibrant and useful.  i had tried every way i knew to keep my faith the same, to ignore the holes and the disappointments, to patch and alter and press on... but eventually, i was ready to begin searching for something new.  

i knew myself well enough to see that i wasn't in need of a new faith; it wasn't the basics that had let me down, but rather the constant wear and tear of the old.  i wasn't searching for a drastic change of spiritual life, just an update on a previous model- something made with richer and more hearty materials that could stand up to my questions and challenges.

and like the new pair of moccasins, the first fit was questionable.  was it right to change?  i felt self-conscious of all its newness.  was i still unique if others were seen with the same thing i had?

but time has take it's toll.  i've begun to ease into my self and my spirituality.  the promise of comfort and security continues to press me forward and a hope for longer wear and tear has made me both a bit cautious as well as excited.  shoes unfortunately take a lot less time to break in, however.  but it's comforting to know that as promised, they feel good... like my foot's true home.

steps taken in my absence...

the thing about blogging is this...

it tends to be a solitary activity, best accomplished when i've had too much alone time and therefore have finished all other alone-time activities like sleeping in, bathing, cleaning my room, shaving my legs etc...  

on top of that, it is a computer-dependent activity, best accomplished with computer in hand... and seeing as i don't usually find myself with computer in hand (and in ample alone-time)... blogging rarely gets done.

but enough about that... there are other steps that have been take in my blogging absence.  they are as follows:

climbing: i have been considerably more active in my climbing endeavors... not to the level i'd like, but still, it's a step.  my new shoes are nearly broken in and i have gotten comfortable going to midwest alone as well as going to vertical in groups... lets count that as one step.

reading: possibly the largest step taken... maybe even two as i have finished one book and am half-way through with the other.  Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver is a great month by month account of one family committed to consuming only that, which they or their neighbors have produced... inspiring, informative if a bit slow-moving...  Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston is said to be a classical account of African American Feminism and lives up to that title.  it has served to ignite thoughts and emotion laid dormant by time and apathy and often grabs at me from its safe haven inside my bag either while i'm at work or enjoying time at home.

sewing: this has yet to manifest itself into a full-on habit.  a few projects here or there have gotten done, and i did branch out and start knitting a hat that is absolutely necessary in this cold weather... but the need for a sewing machine keeps gnawing at my keels...

composting: umm... how do i carry a large garbage can on the back of my bike and where do i find bulk composting products such as leaves or grass clippings when everything i see is frozen over with snow and ice... am i just making excuses?  sidenote: plans for springtime gardening are under way.  just need to build hot-house and pick seeds to start germinating in feb-march)

biking:  yea! finally an area i can boast over!  i have been mostly faithful to this goal, ignoring 

minor break over the holiday season due to snow, cold, and poorly conditioned tires... new knobby tires have been acquired and put in place, riding has again commenced to work (home at night in the cold is a bit daunting still.. but has been done from time to time) and the end of winter is in sight... maybe?  

family: how am i doing? a tad better? hopefully? i'm trying...

hoop: don't ask... the basement is dark and cold and far away... plus it floods a lot from our free but broken washer and dryer...

kiswahili:  i said habari yako to a kenyan man that came through my line at work yesterday... does that count?  truth is, i find it hard to force myself to study (again with my limited alone-time and computer availability), especially when kenya feels so far away.

and running with that tangent... 

that random kenyan man can't know the ache his presence caused in my heart yesterday.  hearing a familiar accent ask me that old familiar question So when are you to return to kenya?  soon, i say... it's what i always say.  but when is soon?  what is there for me to return to? friends i haven't seen in years and haven't talked to in months?  an idle dream of being a community developer with no place to start...?  am i to be one of those girls that had an incredible experience in "africa" and tells others how she longs to return while wearing the jewelry but has no actual plan for return?  

life in minnesota keeps spinning along without a hitch.  familiar places, familiar people, steady work... besides some discontentment with the cold, i'm happy and pleased to be here.  excited even at the prospect of finally choosing a location and sticking with it.  and this one makes the most sense...  

more confusion for a later date.  it's getting dark and i still need to ride home:o)  at least somehow i'm making progress...

it's been awhile... life happens

here i am again... re-living my life in south mpls, riding my bike down those same old roads- avoiding the same old potholes, waiting in the cold for the same late busses... and yet it's not quite the same.  i'm not quite the same.  

i was asked today to describe something good that's happened to me recently and i immediately thought of how i was once again living here in minneapolis, amidst close friends, amidst familiarity.  the more i divulged however, the more i began talking about difficulties and differences and struggles i face.  it's like, in one way i am at home in this great city, at home in the people and places, at home in the feel and size and smell.  in other ways though, i'm not at home in myself.  the last time i lived here, i knew who i was and what i was doing and pursued certain values and lifestyles.  while talking today, i realized that i was in such a rush to get back here, not necessarily so i could hang out in all the familiar spots and ride down these same roads, but so i could once again be that confident young woman living on the corner of chicago and lake.  i wanted to believe in things strongly again, to support community and development and grassroots efforts.  i wanted to live on next to nothing and be content, to drink tea while having long conversations deep into the night about life and love and purpose.  i wanted to re-experience my life before, to try and tap back into those things that felt so comfortable and natural, to shape my life again into what it was the last time i lived here.  but i haven't.  not yet.  not yet.

i've been sad the past few days.  sad because i haven't felt like i had much of a purpose, like i had very little usefulness in what i could do or things i did.  i'm not sure if that makes any sense, maybe i've taken too many philosophy classes and now i have this overwhelming urge to establish my Self (capital S)... but i felt sad nonetheless... alienated as Marx would say from the work of my hands, from the whole and complete process of creating.  

but the wallowing time is done.  proactive liz is ready and willing to make positive steps forward- to single out what was so influential about my life then and try to implement it into my life now.  being in mpls helps keep things familiar, i know the city and its resources and many of its people... but it's only a part.  i need to be intentional about seeking out the rest.  step one for me is, as it has always been, to make a list.

my list of important activities that i will try and figure out how to pursue more actively is as follows:

1. blog blog blog... 'nuf said

2. climb at midwest: participate in classes, go solo or with carl at least once a week

3. read something.  anything.  something other than the onion, crosswords, sudoku... find an actual book and read cover to cover, no stopping mid way to switch books (as i have switched nearly 10 times this last year)

4.  sew more.  patch clothes that need patching, create clothes that have been waiting to be created these past 23 years and are collecting mothballs in the back of my closet.

5. compost.  winter compost is not best for beginning, but it can be done.  get garbage can to compost in and start with fall leaves and overwhelming amount of coffee grounds.

6. keep biking to work through winter. bus is okay but only if reading or on the phone with family member- but try to bike at least half of the commutes each week.

7. be more intentional about contact with family, friends, etc- use facebook! call each family member at least once a week to check in. just suck it up and do it.  i enjoy it when it's done, it's just hard to get going.

8.  hoop.  basement is good winter location, hoop a few times a week, with music, alone if necessary, just dance and let loose and have fun. no tricks necessary.

9.  practice more kiswahili.  bit ambitious here, but we'll throw it in just for fun. 

gol. seems i should find myself a task-master to ensure these very positive steps get taken... anyone looking for a job where they nicely yet firmly force someone to do something they already want to do but just simply cant find the motivation for? let me know if you are... appears there's a job opening.

random strangers...

and now for something different. working in a public place has given me me ample opportunity to encounter differing sorts of people. i'm talking about more than just people from different races, classes and genders, more than just people from different walks of life... minoring in reconciliation studies has given me plenty of those kinds of experiences. what i'm talking about is deeper, more subtle, more unique. i'm talking about the sorts of differences we all have: quirks, idiosyncrasies, mannerisms.

working in a public grocery store has made me more aware of each persons' own uniqueness in a way no anthropology course ever could. i see people on their to and from work, i see them on saturday morning before they're showered and shaved, i see them drunk on a friday night and after happy hour. i see what they eat, how they shop, on good days and bad, when the sun is shining and when the sky has been cloudy for weeks on end.

and so, realizing that i should make the most of this anthropological experience (and also for a bit of fun), i thought i'd start to share with you some of my random stranger stories. tonight, it's an update on the infamous banana lady, since i knowingly left you hanging last time.

banana lady update: what i thought was a meaningful connection over her youthful eccentricity has become nothing more than a glance or two in my direction. poor sweet banana lady, you tried in vain to convince me that we had a secret 'banana room' where we kept all the good bananas fresh and green (but not too green)- you tried to sway me into showing you this secret room and letting you fill your cart to the brim with only the most perfect of all bananas- you tried your hardest to connect with me over this secret and i failed you. i am sorry, banana lady, but the day was long and my list of duties for the night was long. i am sorry, banana lady, for letting you down and breaking our secret bond. i promise to find this secret banana-holding room and make you a spare key so that you can enter and shop to your heart's content.

exisentially muddled me

i spent a good couple of hours online tonight, looking at old photos of friends, past lives, past selves and wondering to my self "is this really my life?"... or i guess more accurately, "was that really my life? did all those magical things really take place?"

i find myself now, stretched out on my couch in the back room of my chicago apartment, surrounded by a sea of financial papers that are once again delayed, my mind and heart swarming with questions. is post-college-life supposed to be just one big mess of existential crises or am i just making it out to be that way?

a good friend and old roommate came to visit me this past weekend. he saw my new city, new lifestyle, met my new boyfriend. and we had a wonderful time- in part, reminiscing about the past- in part, talking about the future... sharing our new selves with each other and remembering why we are friends. but having him here, a glimmering reflection of my past mixed into my new life, has made me stop and think.

is life just a series of moments, pinpoints marking out each of our paths. a few moments ago i was living in minneapolis with a house full of dirty hippies and catfish and music and scarf-dancing and tea. before then, i was the only girl in a 5-way clique of nerdy yet wonderful guy friends that sat around listening to records for hours, drinking tea and talking about how the music made us feel. and now, what now?

i feel like i'm once again floundering around, trying to figure out who i am and how to be.

is this perpetual state of self-consciousness going to be with me forever? or is it just in these moments of transition, in unsettled-ness, that confusion sets in?

i've been trying hard to get out of my head- realizing that once again, change is inevitable and that once again, no amount of analyzing on my part can adequately prepare me for all the questioning it brings. i've been spending my time socializing (over-socializing some days), making friends, exploring the city, picking up new (and old) hobbies. i've been enjoying my current pinpoint of a life, the moments that make up this season. i've made close friends, learned more about myself, and even managed to instill a touch of discipline.

but after spending hours on facebook, reliving old lives through the 373 photos added by others, i find that i can no longer keep those questions at bay... i see that i've spent this year struggling to recapture glimpses of myself, of things i like, ideals i support, people i enjoy. i'm working at connecting those moments to these moments, those pinpoints to these, trying to create some semblance of a whole life.

maybe that's why i have such a desire to travel. i can put a mark on each place that feels like home- whether that be because of the people or the history or whatever- and i can drive from one to another to another with the aim of bringing them all together somehow in my mind.

this soul's craving

what is it about close friends that makes my soul leap forward with excitement and hope and life one minute of the day and then almost immediately after, pull all those emotions inward- barricading itself against loss and loneliness and pain?

this week has been a social roller coaster (if that term can ever be used in a respectable manner... all cheesiness aside).  i spent the first part of it here in chicago, learning what it means for me to actually be friends with my co-workers.  i did my best to say yes to each and every invitation to hang out when i wasn't at work, causing me to loose much sleep in the process, but ending with me staring around the room at Kae's during a random "after work" gathering and thinking -both to myself and out loud... (and we can thank the monsterously large wine glass for the out loud part)- thinking how these people are no longer just the hodgepodge of characters i spend hours with stocking shelves and teasing customers behind their backs... these people are my friends- honest to goodness friends that i look forward to hanging out with, friends i can see myself calling mid-day to talk about life outside of hawaiian shirts and three bells.  it only took 8 months but they finally cracked through my ruddy exterior and quiet demeanor. (nice job guys!)

sidenote: 8 months may seem like a rather long time for those of you that don't know me well, so let me give a brief explanation.  i'm quiet around people i don't know- awkward always- constantly in my head, questioning whether the sarcasm i just showed was picked up on or whether i'll be the topic of conversation in the breakroom for my lack of social skills .  i also function almost always at a different level than the norm.  that's not to come across as elitest or stuck up... but the truth is, i'm always thinking and always self-aware, therefore, in order for me to feel an actual connection with someone, they need to show that they think too and that sometimes they think about what makes them who they are.  (in philosophic terms, we refer to this as the Self).  because i'm like this, i could very easily have regular conversation with a person for years on end without actually considering them a friend- to me, friendship needs to happen at that deeper, soul-level, where Self meets Self.

all that to say that last week (with the assistance of our monthly wine tasting at work) i finally felt comfortable with my co-worker friends.  i felt free to be myself and confident that they would like it.  they did.  my Self was exposed.

immediately following the whirlwind week of socializing with new friends, i took a trip up to minneapolis to visit with some of the people i consider most like home.  the interconnectedness i felt with these people as we hugged or laughed, talked or danced was unreal.  my heart leapt in excitement- life pumping through my veins.  i was and still am completely myself with these beautiful friends- i'm myself and i'm loved deeply.

but so much socializing has made me question... how can i open myself up to many different people at once?  how can i willingly befriend this group of co-workers when i already see my time here drawing to a close?  i've been successful thus far in keeping my distance- being friendly enough without actually letting people in.  life has taught me that as soon as people are let in something happens- jobs happen, atlantic oceans happen, boyfriends happen- and they're almost immediately removed, leaving me in a vulnerable and lonely state.  i can understand logically why this happens: at this age in life, we have no permanent ties to anything and therefore feel free to attach ourselves to jobs or internships which will take us across the world- we prefer one city to another- we follow family or a boy or girlfriend who is most likely attached to his or her job or internship.  it makes sense when you think about how the world works... but it doesn't make sense in terms of our souls' state.  we should be clinging to these people that make us feel normal and beloved.  we should spend time cultivating relationships not just with whoever is thrown in your path but also with the people you spent the last few years learning how to pee in front of.  

and so, returning to chicago has proved to be a rather sober event.  not just because i miss my minnesota friends and wish for more time with them.  it's been sober because it's caused me to question my attachment to these new friends here... how can i leave this life that's taken me so long to finally begin?  what are the chances i'll ever even see these people after i quit and move in a few weeks?  what's the point in continuing to let them in if i know in a short while they'll remain as small holes in my heart?

i joke about starting a commune with all my closest friends so that we can live together, support each other, help each other with large life events that come our way... i joke about it because deep down i feel it's the only place i'll finally be able to breathe free- put down roots- embrace the terror of commitment.  in my mind, communes can be seen as secluding themselves from the larger society (which isn't all that bad sometimes), or they can be seen as embracing community-togetherness-tough and unconditional love.  my soul craves the latter.  my soul longs to be able to love without hesitation, to show itself fully and be known by others.  i crave all the life that friendship brings without any of the pain.  maybe that's unrealistic- especially in this quarter-life phase, but i crave it nonetheless.