
This Tom has lived a wonderful life, like its partner in crime, LT (Left Tom, naturally). I can deal with holes in the toes. I can deal even with the heal rippage (yes, we are going to



So, I apologize for my lack of updates, yet again. I am not the best at this whole-let-me-sit-down-and-write-about-me thing (which is ironic considering I’m majoring in writing and everyone is all like “blablahbla. Write what you know.” And what I know is me.)
What I also know is that I love/hate relationship with words. Words are the starting point of everything. Every thought, idea, belief, starts with letter, formulating into words, which translates into questions, which then search for the answers, even they are never to be found. Our emotions find their way into words in our conscience, which are expressed into words or actions. People always say actions speak more than words, but maybe it is because we have lost touch with the art of words. The sacred concept of words. If we were given 100 words to utter our entire lives, that was it…what would we speak? Would we tell our loved ones how dear they are to us? Or would we get up and tell the world about global warming and how we need to recycle? Or would we try to go to our government and tell them how we think things should be run? Would we tell those that hurt us how we forgave them? We’ve lost the art of words.
Ah, I digress. Sorry, this blog is not about my rants, but about my life updates and travels. (not sure which is more boring, ha).
I think part of the reason my blog updates have been lackluster is the fact I am in a semi creative/writing slump. I know what you are thinking, “Madi…this is not the least bit creative? This is about your travels! Just simple life updates. The two should not correlate.”
Oh, but see this is where you are wrong, my dear friend.
I am the person that bottles everything. I can sit there, any day of the week, and hear other people’s issues, hearts, problems, fears, dreams, but when it comes to my own, I never know what to say. It’s not that I am afraid to tell them. No, on the contrary! I am quiet the open book! But, I never know how to express them. This is the issue. Writing and words is how I think, process. Without it, I am a seven year old’s double-scooped ice cream cone on a hot summer day in July.
I am terrible with words. I am hilarious on the Internet, but awkward and weird in real life. I can sound intelligent and artsy on paper, but sound like a buffoon if I’m ever asked to express something out loud. If someone asks me a deep question that hasn’t ever crossed my mind, I can take up to 10 minutes sitting in silence to formulate an actual response.
I have a love/hate relationship with words. I love the art form of words. The beauty and darkness they can elicit. The same word brings different emotions for each person. Scriptures even go to say that “death and life are in the power of the tongue...” (Proverbs 18:21).
Secretly, words scare me. They reveal the deepest parts of me if I allow them too. God uses them to vomit my soul into open, sucking all that’s inside out like a vacuum. Some people need alcohol to pour out their soul, others a shoulder to cry on, me? I need a pen and paper. This often terrifies me.
But back to the main subject: writing slump.
I’m in it. But not the “in it,” that Natalie Portman speaks of in Garden State when her co-star Zach Braff seems to be in some intense, internal life debates. I’m in the opposite of that. I’m in a city that should inspire art all around me, and yet I find myself starring at a blank computer screen and an empty journal pages, longing to put some type of beautiful poetry in front of me, only to later question if should chunk it completely because it sounds pretentious and/or cliché.
This is when the beat changes, however; I am slowly coming to a realization that maybe my slumps aren’t so bad after all. In the past, when I have been head over heels with what I have written, wanting the entire world to see it, like a proud mamma, it is when I am coming out of “it.” The “it” always varies. When my writings are booming and I can’t get enough on paper, I’ve just learned some great life lesson, had a life epiphany, finally decided to overcome some dreadful habit, decide to finally heal from something I never though possible, etc. You get the picture. But I’m always coming out of these “it” moments when I write marathons of words and works. Never in them. In them, I feel weighted, bogged down, completely unlike myself usually, always hidden by a cheerful façade though, naturally.
I’m usually able to pretty much pick out what the “it” is that I am in at the time, but not this time. And I am okay with that. It’s kind of nice not knowing because when I know, I always search for the way out; in the unknown, I just take each day at a time, waiting till the “it” wants to be found and comes searching for me.
Since arriving in London, I am learning more than I ever thought possible. I am learning things I never though I would need to know or have to learn. Or even more so, I am having to relearn many things as well. I don’t think I could put it all into words even if I tried. I am not even sure what the biggest lesson is or what over arching theme God is trying to teach me, but all I know is that I am in “it,” and somewhere, He is in the “it” with me. I am growing, and that is enough to last me through my writing slump. At the end of this current “it,” I know words will be found and writings will commence again. This gets me excited. So I continue on the “it” and stay up late drinking absurd amounts of juice (there is no coffee machine in my flat, sadly. I must resort to juice and tea), reading good books, and going on walks as often as possible, remembering all the while that God, the creator of words and good books and juice, knows my "it" front to back, side to side, and walks through "it" with me. This is how I survive the “its.”
And in other generic life update news:
1.) I am seeing the Shins live on Friday.
2.) I am going to see Wicked on Broadway on Thursday.
3.) I went to the Harry Potter walking tour tonight.
4.) The new Shins album came out today.
5.) I saw the Civil Wars live last week for free.
6.) I am going to Paris on the 31st of this month.
7.) I leave for Budapest on April 9th, beginning my 20 days of travels.
8.) I am working at Kanakuk K2 again this summer for 8 weeks!
9.) I will be done with school in two weeks.
10.) I just finished reading Through Painted Deserts by Donald Miller. HIGHLY recommend it to people of all faiths. It does talk about God, yes, but it is a fantastic book regardless of what you believe. Get it. You won’t regret it.
11.) Bought and started Million Miles in a Thousand Years today. So pumped already.
Anywho, that’s it for now. Hope all is well in whatever country you find yourself in this fine night. :) Toodles!
Over and out,
Madi Mae
Recent Listenings:
"Well folks, I’m writing to you all from my plane! It is 8p.m on the sixth of January in Texas and two a.m. on the seventh in London, and I am somewhere in between. Leaving turned out to be scarier than expected. Well, maybe it is to be expected. As soon as my parents and I said goodbye, my departure became real. They were the last people on my list of goodbyes. Friends, Check. Siblings, Check. Parents, Check. Alone? Uh-oh.
As I went through security, I began to cry deep heavy sobs that shook deep into my chest. I tried to suppress them as I took off my boots and showed them that my approximately 3.0 fluid ounces of makeup and chap stick, were truly makeup and chap stick and nothing explosive like about them. Ignoring the floodgates of tears that threatened and throbbed my pulsing skull and blurry contacts only resulted in some weird mixture of hiccups and hyperventilation.
After security, I could barely get my boots back on, let alone make sure I had all my belongings and I myself was in one piece. I could feel the whole security staff at DFW airport watching me with sympathetic eyes, but not the kind you want to see. The sympathetic eyes that you want to see is when you see a puppy that needs an owner. These were “oh-poor-thing-I-should-be-annoyed-at-her-for-taking-10-years-to-gather-her-belongings-but-I-will-swallow-that-because-she-is-obviously-very-codependent-on-people-even-though-she-is-20-and-should-be-more-grown-up-about-this-sort-of-thing.” This, says my pride, is not the kind of sympathy I want to receive.
Short to say…I was a hot mess. As per usual.
It was humbling though. When inquiring about my future time abroad, many people would simply say, “You are going by yourself? Are you not scared?” And at the time, I was able to confidently and politely say, “No, not at all. I like doing things like this, especially by myself.” Which is still all true.
So why all the hysterical tears?
This is the first time in my life that I felt truly and utterly alone. And, as much as my prideful, wicked heart hates to admit, scares me to pieces. The Lord recently convicted me on my independent nature. A balance of independence and dependence is a great thing. It is how He created us to breathe and function and live in our world. Yes, some lean one way more than others, but over all, balance is key. In my own life, independence is my pull. Feels like it always has been, but particularly so in the last few years. But, this can get me in a pickle sayyyyyyyyy when I don’t want to rely on God because I feel like I am giving up some of my independence, when I lack an understanding that in Him, there is freedom.
I also love to do things solo. Which is great because, for the most part at least, I am never bored. Yes, I am very much social and crave people, but I also have a pride issue in not needing them. But the key is…I always knew they where there. There was safety and comfort in that.
So now the Big Dude up top, is bringing me back to a childlike position before him, reminding me that it’s okay to need help…to need people. It’s how he designed us. Me needing someone doesn’t mean I’m any less weak or less independent. It means I’m honest. It means I’m healthy and well. In creation, God saw something off kilt with just Adam. Thus, Eve. He created us to be in fellowship and communication with people and with Him.
In sum, I’m learning now as my heart calms down on this long flight and my tears are all dried up, that it’s okay to miss people. It’s okay to fear. It’s okay to be unsure. But above all, I need to let His love overshadow all these things. For He is greater. He is good."
And not to mention...SNOW!!!!!!!!!!!! heck to the yes. Okay, I know for some people, snow is not big thang. But for us southern folk, snow is like a monsoon of fairy tales and pixie dust falling from the sky. Okay...maybe not that extreme, but you get the idea.
From this past month (how fast it went tooo! bleh. dislike that...), God has just been teaching me what it truly means to live in the world and not of the world. Here in London, you either love Christ and live your whole life for Him, or you don't. Simple as that. There is no gray. There is no middle ground. There can't be. I was talking to some Believers from Australia and India a few weeks ago and when asking about Christianity in America, they were astounded when I replied that, "In the south at least, a lot of people claim Christ, but few live it out. They only pick it up as if it were a side hobby." They continued to ask me questions and pry about it. The thought of half heartedly serving Christ baffled and appalled them.
In Texas, and even College Station specifically, it is so easy to dance that line. To toy with the idea of serving Him, but never committing. Christianity is "trendy" and "easy" to do because many people find it "cool." We've created a sub culture for Pop-Christianity ,giving titles to it like "granola" and having a certain dress or wear that would mean you are a good Christian. (As if owning Chacos or a patagonia backpack brings you that much closer in your relationship with Christ.) And yes, I must admit, I am guilty of these things as well. But my friends, Christianity is not a fad you pick up by joining the right organizations, knowing the right lingo or slang, or any of the above. It's a relationship. It's about pursuing Him and losing yourself in His embrace. It's about seeing our failures and shortcomings and seeing how much deeper His grace and love extends beyond that. It's not about do's and don'ts but seeing that what He offers is life and life to the fullest. It's about love and it's about faith and it's about seeing that His sacrifice for my life on the cross deserves a response equal in passion and commitment to his death and resurrection.
Christ is not a fad you pick up on Sundays. Christ is my lover, my life, my bridegroom.
okay, sorry. hopping off my rant.
Anywho, folks. sorry the few blog updates. I'll try to get better at this posting business. :)
Till next time...Over and out.
Madi Mae
p.s. please enjoy some lovely tune-age that I've been jamming to nonstop recently.