catching the moon

I was on a walk with my niece and nephew this evening. Twilight was steeping in when Titus looked up at the sky and pointed upward. 

“Look,” he said, “it’s the moon.” 

“Yep. There is it.” I said, looking at small sliver that was out this evening. 

“How do we catch it?” 

If I was a creative aunt I would’ve come up with some cute future children’s book response. But I didn’t. I said something lame like, “well, I don’t think that we can catch it. It’s pretty far away.” We all then went back to our main activity – tossing rocks into the small creek that runs underneath Plum Avenue.

I wonder what it is that causes children like Titus to ask questions like that and is it because of people like me who cause them to eventually stop. 

By the time I was in the 4^th grade I had changed my future career choice from “mom” to “writer.” (Okay, this is funny on a lot of levels if you know me and my ability to relate to children). The only reason I remember this was because I specifically remember telling my 4^th grade teach, Mrs. Sugai, that my career choice as a writer was not included on some type of list we were looking at. That maybe should’ve been a sign to me then. (Insert ironic laugh). 

In a lot of ways I feel like I am a quitter. I quit stuff.  I can’t play bar chords on my guitar so I “quit” trying (well, not really but my guitar is in Kansas right now and I am in Illinois…). I’ve quite believing that I will eventually outgrow breakouts.  I’ve quit trying to get my children’s book published because my current state of well-being cannot handle being rejected so many times. I’ve quit studying for the GRE after I missed 80 percent of the language questions (the section I am supposed to be good at as an English major), and thus have quit the idea of being a tar-heal. And on some level I think I’ve “quit” believing that I will ever get a writing job and will probably have to settle for being someone’s secretary. (Although, I don’t think any human being has ever even seen my resume but rather I just keep getting rejected by internet programs used to funnel out people, like me, with no real experience. I can’t even get a job answering phones).

When I was little, I would happily write three paragraph essays about how “when I grow up, I am going to be a writer and I am going to live in a big yellow house with my husband and my kids named, something and something and have a dog named something.” (I was all about names – and probably still am, if I really think about it). And I am pretty sure that these were my childhood goals for when I was 25.

Next year, none of those things will be true.

I know that I am only 24 – which is not over the hill by any means, and yet, I don’t think I my writing will ever really move outside of the blog world, limited to only my facebook friends and someone in Alaska, or in tiny Mennonite periodicals that most Mennonite don’t even know exist. I mean, I’m young, right? I still have time for things to happen, right?

Right?

With each passing day that no one gets back to me, the more I am convinced that things will never change. 

When did I stop believing that I could catch the moon? 

In line with the pursuit of dreams, my sister-in-law had her ribbon cutting ceremonies this evening for her new bridal store. In just under a year, her dream exploded into reality. Tomorrow is Adore’s first official business day. It’s an exciting time. But I cannot even fathom what that must be like or even how one goes about doing something like that.

I really hate that I have no faith in myself. But what I hate the most is that other people know that and apparently (employers) feel the same way. 

Actually, I am really frustrated with this whole job thing, mostly because I found my ideal job. It is a writing position for an international organization that has a faith based branch dedicated to sustainable farming and the local food movement and making it available for low income families. I know, right? Food, writing, global perspective, local perspective, justice based, faith based – yep, all there. Oh, and it’s in North Carolina. And guess what. It’s an Americore position, thus it is another voluntary service thing. I am drowning in so much debt that I cannot really just say, “eh, okay, here we go again...” 

It maybe all comes down to what I want out of life. Since I have no idea what that is I feel like I’ve somehow trapped myself in a small box and I have no idea how to get out.

That’s all I got. I have no idea how to end this blog. So moon, you’ll just have to stay put for now.