to start from the very beginning. a very good place to start.

as humans we seem to feel the need to talk: to find words and images, to organize shaking experience into narrative, to bring the extra-ordinary back to the ordinary, the 'unspeakable' to the spoken. typically we do this spontaneously, naturally, and in company. we contrive to bridge the gulf between language and experience.

- inga clendinnen

the first words are always the hardest. i never know where to begin. i don't think anyone really ever does. endings are clear. they are definite. there is a moment when something stops. "now you see it, now you don't" kind of moments. beginnings, though, are much more subtle. much more amorphous. ambiguous. rarely in life can you point to a moment and say, this is where it all started. even birth is ambiguous. the heart starts beating long before we see the light of day. there are huge political battles fought to define when it is that we begin being human. to define when it is that life begins.

i am no good with beginnings. i'm not really sure that i'm good with endings either, but i am sure that that is not what this is about. this is about the middle. the wandering and meandering and winding down the crooked path of life. the realization that one day you woke up and realized that life doesn't exactly look like what you thought it would. you did everything right. you went to college. you had ideas. you had ambitions. you had dreams. you are going to make a difference. but things no longer look like they used to. being a grown up doesn't feel like you thought it would. 

no one's life really falls into place at 23. or at least i tell myself that because mine hasn't. college ended and instead of a path i was left with only possibility. so here's to turning the possibilities into realities. the ideas into words. the unspeakable to the spoken. here is my ode to possibility.