One quote has recently run circles in my head:

“Don’t be scared to walk alone, don’t be scared to like it”

The longer it stays in my mind, the deeper its tracks ingrain in my memory.

Long ago, my inner compass was silent. At times I was told what I felt even when I didn’t agree. It left me confused with no words to explain what I needed, what I thought, or who I was. My emotions jumbled, screamed, and cried without ever reaching the surface. I wrote vigorously as my last attempt to understand the explosion trapped inside, placing words with feelings until something felt right.

No one could help me until I gave some sign that something was wrong, only I didn’t know what was wrong and got confused figuring out if there was something wrong at all. Writing was my way out, allowing for journals and journals of incoherent, disorganized trains of thought. The earliest journals were too painful to keep but dozens still lay in a pile on my shelf.

I have not evolved yet to speak, but I have evolved to allow for expression in writing. It is how the truth inside me shines past all the barriers, for when I write, I can stay silent. Writing was, and continues to be, my balancing act so I never thought about it as a career.

Published authors need to write for others, all I do is write for myself. I try imagining characters, but none come up because all I understand is my own experience. My descriptions flow best when I use the second person (you) or write a letter in first person (I): the two most looked down upon formats in my formal schooling.

I have many other interests. I see physics as the real magic adults once said wasn’t real, and love the environment from witnessing it through travel. I came into college working towards a physics major (still on that path). However, at this very moment, 1:52am, on Saturday May 9th, I know nothing would suit me more than to set my stories free.

I want my career to be, being me: the author that, though unconventional, emerged naturally.

I feel words rather than hear them and believe that amazement lies in the everyday world. Stories that appear from thoughts outside society’s built in conventions have the chance to soar with and beyond imagination. Based on today, I am a writer, I am ready to share my heart with those who are willing to listen.

P.s When I wake up in the morning, I will still be a physics major

Once in a while, we need to be with ourselves to remember who we are, unattached to the circumstances we live in.

You are in a park with your family on a warm, sunny day when you hear rustling. Everyone is comfortably laying on the grass, in no rush to leave, so you get up and make your way towards the sound. It comes from behind, away from paved roads, in the true more undisturbed woods. You walk past the bushes and see a chipmunk digging through some leaves. The sight of a chipmunk solves your mystery, but you have already taken the first step inside and now is not the time to turn around.

The woods, like a secret passageway, guide you to a tree fallen sideways over a pond. As you walk towards the tree, a turtle splashes into the water clearing the way for you. This is the right path. Though sideways, the tree is very much alive. Its roots are in the ground and its branches still grow the fresh leaves of spring. It is one of those few times you can walk up a living tree using only your feet, and a few hand motions to untangle yourself from the sky reaching branches. You make careful steps, pausing along the way to take full breaths of stillness.

The only thing out of the ordinary on the other side is a standing tree that bends. It sways quietly as you stand wondering where to go. You do not have to wait very long because a woodpecker makes its entrance. With a head of red feathers and wings of black, the woodpecker perches nearby, knocking on wood. Suddenly, a second tree bends down to reach for the first one; they shake hands creating a doorway through which you pass.

Further into the forest you follow a winding path covered in old autumn leaves. You run, the wind in your face, hair flying, leaves rustling. Then, you stop. Your joyous energy has radiated, filling up space, and you can focus to observe where you are. Your eyes search through twisted branches as your ears pick up the chatter of birds and the whispers of petals. You move quietly and slowly to get a closer look. In the trees up above, a red Cardinal sings a greeting. You are welcome where you have arrived.

You make a turn and the sun shines in your face; you smile allowing it to wash over you. Another fallen tree crosses your path, but this time it lays as a dry bridge over dry ground, not high enough to walk under, not low enough to climb over. You step on the tree and balance your way forward. A sparkle reaches your eye from a dent inside the bark filled with water. Rain poured in the morning and since then the ground dried up, but this one drop of rainwater remained safely harnessed. You do not go past it, instead you kneel and touch the surface.

Your hand quickly leaps back to your side, partly from the shock of the cold, partly because realization hits. Out of everyone in the world, you were the one to see this raindrop. Its touch joins you and propels magic through your core. Compelled to display your appreciation you take a seat on the bridge, legs criss crossed, trying to quiet your thoughts. Your eyes feel heavier, they begin to close, and soon enough you don’t even notice where you are.

When you open your eyes, you are in a pattern world. You see the trees as recurring spaces of light and dark. When you blink the shapes of the individual trees become clearer. But the image appears like a drawing, you are the only real thing in a scene that has been sketched. For a moment, you exist somewhere between the real and the not real. You blink again and now you see the same real world you saw before only differently.

You lay on your back, eyes wide open, heart unblocked. You stretch in all directions as if waking up from a cuddly blanket nap, reaching up to pet the soft leaves by your side. Guiding curiosity about the world has resurfaced, passions flooding into your system. Your passions are for you to know and for you to choose to set free. This state feels like home, this is who you are, you have found yourself.

Taking one last look around, at the place that cleared jumbled thoughts from your mind, you say thank you and begin walking back, shoulders held upright. Your family and friends wait for you to share your discovery. You thought you were alone, but your family could see you through spaces in the forest canopy. They waited patiently the whole time, relaxed, knowing you were safe. You may need to feel alone sometimes but it is comforting to remember that family, friends, and nature are always there, even when you do not expect it.