Cookies

My Love,

Winter. As the snow falls I sit in my (new) upstairs New York style apartment. I sip tea that I made in response to mother nature's blessing (of the flu.) And I study. Not in between the covers of a book, mind you. But in between the covers of my life.

These polished wooden floors nearly beg to have furniture re-arranged on top of them, and a makeshift living room transformed into a makeshift dance floor. The most sappy, cliche, Christmas songs play in the background of the night. And as the couch and ottoman stand against the wall with their heads turned, a couple dances across the dining room, past the vase of cheap flowers he bought her, and into the kitchen.

Just because Lois Armstrong is soloing silent night now, doesn't mean that George Strait won't be next on the playlist. One dance will wear him out, because he probably has the flu, but it will be ok. The reason why it will be ok? Because he didn't buy the Christmas cookies on the stove, she made them. From scratch? No. But she made them nonetheless. And he likes that.

Because you see my friends, when all is said and done, cookies fresh out of the oven are far better than last years....that he bought at Walmart.

Dance. Love. Bake. and Listen.

Happy Holidays friends. enjoy the snow!

: )

Everything that's happened

Oh blog.

I last touched this place on September twenty-sixth, two thousand and ten. Today, december first, things are much different.

Change has once again fallen with the cold air. The world beneath my feet has begun once again to shift and sway. I was at a pretty bad point in my journey when I last wrote here. Though I didn't know it then, I indeed was.

I've found since then, that life, when viewed as a constant and everlasting series of trial and error, can become somewhat simpler than it previously was. A whole new series of broad subject within my life have rolled over and revealed their intricately complicated undersides. I feel that this has forced me to pay more attention to details. Study the details of schoolwork. Go to my job everyday, and work on the details. The broad picture is conquered. Love people again. Love their details. I've remembered why it is I love people. and why it is i want to help them, help themselves. It's been elegantly awesome.

Enough with the abstract talk.

I'm moving. yes. again. for the first time since July of this year.

and I;m excited. very very. I'm thrilled to be leaving this small, closet like, thing-place. I'm ready to be living in a house. Possibly even a home. I'm ready to come home to a yard. A living room. a desk. a chair. and a kitchen table. I need these things like I need water. Home. home. mmm it sounds so good. I'm so so so ready to be out of here and gone.

My studies are going well. Two As and a B would be the best case scenerio at this point in the game. (the game of this semester.) I believe things are about to become intensley more intricate, intensly more detailed, and much much more difficult. I will begin routine this Spring that not many would think of taking on. I feel though, that everything I have done and learned up to this point has prepared me for the challenges I will face. Challenges of time management. School and JOB mainainence. Things will be tough. undoubtedly. but I feel i'm ready. I've worked so hard to gain the ability to soak in information. It's almost now as if i can turn my ears on, sit, and wait to be filled like a sponge. It's a very very interesting form of physcological conditioning I suppose. That's what it feels like anyways. Like every proffessor cramming me with more than I can handle for 3 years now has caused me to adapt and develop an ability to keenly regurgitate knowledge.

So much has changed. and is still changing. It's amazing. I never fail to be surprised at the continued winds of pleasant change that are blowing though my life. and my soul.

God bless and keep you if you made it this far.

Kyle

Letters From Fall

Oh the weary eyes of autumn, she runs through my veins again.

Like hair borrowed from a ray of sunlight. Her chill is so calm.

The wheat of the fields is put away grain by grain. The farmer bows to

the Summer sun one last sweet time before he bids her toil goodbye.

Oh leaves, oh trees, sweet air all a’bloom

oh love oh love, washes my lungs clean,

I’d thrill to say you’re soon.

The breeze brings chance, hope, and wonder

to each of our hearts all at once.

Here’s a poem I wrote last September, as I sat and felt the first breeze of Fall one year ago.

Letters from fall by. Kyle

The stars knock upon my window with icy rays of distant light.

They’ve come through fathoms of time and chill to fall upon my chest

I can see one in specific who cries out “save me, and hold me, keep me warm” in awe of the bliss

As nights bid adieu the eve, and the sun plays with what the moon saw,

So does summer bid farewell to spring, and shakes the sleeve of fall

With wet eyes she turns her leaves, and offers her colors to the will of the wind

While untouchable rain falls from the sky and Dew is felt again

The toils and toll of Summer’s thick control are lost within the smell of frigid air

While the labor man works his knees pop and jerk, but the trade for the heat seems fair

I can hear a cricket’s cry in the distance, though his melody tonight seems more coarse

He too must know that the quarters have changed, lessened sunlight is perhaps his source

The whooper-will has long put away his call, and taken flight beside the wing of his summer’s love

While the people of the world watch the stars through their windows and wish agape to be sent from above.

Softer words lie in all of our hearts as our cheeks from the chill become red

And thoughts like “want to. Should have, and will you” lackadaisically dance in our heads

September she is quiet, but has soo much to say, if within her joy you’ll peer

Take a step. Take a chance. In spite of the frost...thanks goodness, autumn is here.

Stella

Bag

Everywhere I go, I carry a blue back pack. It's been hanging off of me faithfully for almost 3 years now. It's no ordinary backpack. It's specific to me. The outside top pocket (where my wallet and cell phone will always go) (wallet on top, cell phone on bottom, mind you. OCD) is adorned with three pennant-like pins. The left one, is a fish. I've had it since before High school, and it's there to remind me of where all I've been, and everyone I've loved before now. Friend's I've sat next to all night long on a river bank in the middle of nowhere. Memories of a country kid growing up in the woods.

The second pin is an East Central pin, that I received my freshman year here, with the band. It's a sign of where I'm at. And a reminder to never forget all of the hard work I put in to get here. The third pin is a Serpent and Staff medical pin. I really don't know how I found it (or it found me) it honestly just fell out of my printer one day. ya....my printer? It reminds me that I still have work to do, and that I am not yet finished, or closed to finishing this journey. But rather, the real journey has just begun, and things can only go up from here. It reminds me to persevere.

If you looked (which you couldn't) in the inside front pocket, you'd find my ingredients.The very basics of which I need to survive. With me at all times are my TI-84 graphing calculator, TI-36 scientific calculator, stapler, staple remover, scantrons, an unopened package of pencils, two flash drive, a pocket first aid kit, and a stick of deodorant. (Nerd much?) Nerd lots. But if I don't have it in that pocket, I can probably live without it.

Then comes the largest pocket. The heavy hauler. The book tote. The burden holster. Where the literature goes. My Mac rests here. Along with (usually) a chemistry book, two copies of the latest JBJS (journal of bone and joint surgery), and whatever I'm studying that day. It's a heavy bag....to say the least. But as long as I've carried it with me, it's never let me down. Sure....I've customized it's rips and tears with several black and blue zip-ties over the years, but cosmetics have never been that important to either of us. Yes, we're a good pair, my bag and I. And although she has had it rough so far in life, with the late nights, early mornings, and sleepless weekends in surgery, she's never let me down. I suppose it's really the best love affair of life so far. The student...and his Book Bag.

She Was Not

Here's my confession dear.

I recently put my heart on the line for a young lady. I thought I'd do something nice and take her out. Not because of a one moment impulse, but because she was worth waiting for the right moment for. The right moment to take her out. The right evening to ask the "do you like me" question. Well, the answer I anticipated wasn't the answer I got. You see I thought she might say "I don't think of you that way," or "I'm really trying to focus on my friend base," hell a good old fashioned "NO" would have been awesome. Would have made my week. Since "yes" was obviously out of the question. But hey, maybe while we're young we oughta jump right? Since our hearts still have a few miles left on them, why not ask?

I'm writing this tonight fellas to tell you not to ask. If your intuition tells you that she isn't into it, don't bother. Because a few weeks later when you haven't heard a word from them, you'll wish you would have taken someone worth it. Spent a couple hundred bucks on someone who gave a $#!*. Yep I just cursed at you. Read it twice so it sinks in. I'd say that my soul isn't full of bitterness, but misunderstanding rather. Confusion. Standing on the outside of a heart in a lock box, looking in, wondering what the hell the combination is. Well, a year's a year. And the year is over. Here's the last thought, the last night, and the last wonder laid to rest.

Love is worth it.

She was not.

Thanks for listening.

Kyle

I knew I left something over there

My apartment smells of pipe tobacco and mid-quality coffee. My tv is on, but muted. I am fair to good. Well...I almost made it out without lying. Fair to good describes what you might see on the outside. Fair to good describes what you might get upon glancing at my image. But given a moment, if you stared into my soul, you'd see only half of it.

I once sat repeatedly and listened to a friend speak about how he was lonely, and how he was getting older, and was worried he'd never find the girl of his dreams. I listened to his situation forward and backwards. Ten times or more in that last year before he met her. Her that he's married to now. She's a mean woman. She's cute at first glance....but I couldn't be more unhappy about the way she treats my old friend.

Something about that Junior year of college hitting you in the face and telling you that you ought find out who you are, and then find out who someone else is. And give the two souls a chance to mesh. A great person who I've come to respect, once said "I've reached the point in my life where all that I want is to love, and be loved for my being. Not for anything else, just my life alone." Great words, that I often hoped I'd never take to heart. But as I stand on the ledge and look down into the canyon of my soul, I see a gorge half full.....on good days.

I'd give all of everything to set this feeling free. Send it back to the depths and pits of sorrow where it belongs. But it's appeared to be more difficult than just wishing it. Regardless of the situation you might find YOURSELF in, I find myself in this one. I hope you've maintained the grace and perseverance enough to carry yourself independently down the sidewalk of your life..... But the rest of us aren't perfect. The rest of us have given our souls so generously once to another, and never quite got it all back. Like the phone call three days after your first big fight, telling you that you can come and get your things now, as your other half will no longer be needing them. I knew I left something over there....

Kyle

Hosanna

I suppose that to say things have been organized and boring would be a complete lie. My world of late has been sparatic, at best. Everywhere I've gone, there's been a four foot paper trail to follow. Numbers, terms, and powerpoints falling out of my pockets. It's been a mess, really.

The coming and going of my first Physics test brought less than satisfaction. I studied until I felt I couldn't possibly know the subject any better. I walked out of the classroom, confident I'd dominated the exam. Two hours later, grades posted.....75%.......C......crushed. Because of this number, because of that letter, my heart shrunk 3 times in my chest. It got quite the best of me, I must admit. You see, this semester means so much in terms of my future. Where I stand right now academically, is mildly sub-par to what a medical school expects in an applicant. And that simple thought alone, has come to rule my every moment. (Something it shouldn't be allowed to do). But I'm not the first undergrad that's been night/day tormented over this thought. it's quite common...so I hear.

I was sitting at work at the college, handing out pool balls and refusing to smile, when a young man walked up, sporting an athlete's build, and asked nicely if any tables were available. I immediately was taken a bit back by the simple fact he wasn't joking or acting like a complete idiot to me (as most college athletes on this campus do.) Unfortunately, there were no tables available, so he'd have to wait on a set of billiards and Q's. He didn't seem to mind. Thinking back on things now, I couldn't be more happy that there wasn't a pool table open, because what he did next, changed my whole day.

The young man walked across the building and sat down at the public piano against the far wall. I was fully expecting to hear another sloppy rendition of the latest T-Pain or lil' Bow Wow hit....but's that't not what came. He played the most elaborate, beautiful rendition of the song "Hosanna in the Highest." And with each note, I could feel God's presence come into that place. Everything seemed to fade away, every bad moment I'd felt that day, every small bit of hurt in my soul was being mended. It was powerful. It was refreshing. It saved me, on that day.

I love hiding from civilization. I think it's become my worst new habit. But I'ma do it anyway. Call me a recluse haha. (if you must)

-proof that the savior is still saving.

Kyle

here's Hosanna in the Highest