Get a life, not a wife.
“Journalism is a kind of profession, or craft, or racket, for people who never wanted to grow up and go out into the real world.” —Harry Reasoner
Every journalist knows that the beginning can make or break an article. After all, there’s a reason it is called a “lead” because it must lead the reader to continue. Ideally, a strong lead makes a reader crave to the point that they devour an entire article and tell their friends, their community and their government about what they’ve just read.
For me, my lead remains unwritten. You could say I’m still in the process of figuring out where to begin, and that my story keeps taking different turns. There’s more investigating to be done and I’m not exactly sure where it will end, which as many editors know, means that I don’t really know where to begin.
I’ve got a new blog where I’ll be posting updates about my life as a young reporter. If you’d rather read blogs on WordPress, it has a home there as well. Do tell your friends, won’t you?
A quote from her book, “When things fall apart”
Are we ever really ready to grow up? I’m sitting here in my living room, realizing this is the last real summer I’ll have before I graduate from college this December. It feels like just yesterday my mom was telling me I’d grow up before I knew it. Mom, you were right. Before I knew it, I’m staring back at a familiar version of my young, carefree face. The features are the same, but they’ve grown. They’ve changed. They’ve matured. I guess I have, too.
My eyes, mouth and heart seem to have made an agreement with one another:
The mouth acts as the primary communicator for the heart, using words to express the message of the heart. However, if the mouth cannot fully express the heart, the eyes must accept full responsibility of communicating the message of the heart. If neither the mouth nor the eyes can fully communicate the message of the heart, let the heart express itself by way of an action or gesture. The gesture can be grand or small. However, it must be done by the heart, otherwise it is just a gesture rather than a means of communicating what the mouth and eyes could not.
“When you get older, you go home and you find that everything’s changed. But, the thing that’s changed is you.”
I’ve never been much for going home. While the comforts of familiarity can be inviting, for me these familiarities translate into “boredom.” Everytime that I pack up to go home for a break, I wonder when the day will come that I don’t go home for Christmas. Going home is more of a habit than a pleasure since I don’t particularly enjoy my hometown. I miss the people at times; but, for the most part I’m content with the friends that surround me when I’m away from home. Home isn’t my hometown anymore, it’s just a place I visit.
I’m not looking to be like Carrie Bradshaw. For starts, her clothes are too expensive and her hair is too voluminous; but, it was a quote from that character off of television’s “The Sex and the City” that prompted some reflection on my part.
“Do we need distance to get close?”
After two failed long distance relationships, my gut reaction is to scream “no” before slamming the door and staring at the ceiling after collapsing onto my bed; however, that wouldn’t really be giving this question a fair chance. As a college student, I live five hours away from my hometown. Distance is a commonality in my life. It comes with the package deal of choosing a school in the mountains when I grew up closer to the coast. I’m used to saying the words, “I miss you.” Even if you’re right where you want to be, life finds ways of making you miss something or someone.
Beyond the longing, does it actually improve the “closeness” that we feel towards others? Sometimes.
It may be that whole theory of, “You don’t realize what you’ve got until it’s gone.” Or the even more cliche idea of, “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.” Regardless of the romanticized explanations, distance triggers something within us.
Sometimes distance prompts us to realizations. We realize that we belong with someone. We realize that we don’t belong with someone. We realize that distance is perfect for finding a new horizon. We realize that it’s too scary to start looking for new horizons. The list of realizations continues and varies for everyone.
For myself, I realize something new each time I leave home. When I first left for school, I realized that I had made the right decision about getting far away from my hometown. Later on I realized that even though I was happy, I still wondered what would be different if I had stayed. On a couple of occasions, I realized that I had unfinished business of the heart. Sometimes, I still wonder if I do. Sometimes, these realizations happen when I return home and I doubt their legitimacy. Just as distance triggers something, going home is like going swimming in a vat of memories and habits that I had otherwise shrugged aside.
It’s all curious what happens when we leave and return. For some, it’s comforting. For me, it’s like putting my feet in shoes that I know I don’t like. All I want to do is kick them off and put my feet elsewhere.
As for distance making us closer, I’d say it depends on the person and the situation. With family, it can be a blessing that creates the space to breathe, but the ability to appreciate. For love, it can be bliss or abysmal.
Personally, I’d like to think that simply interacting with individuals is what truly brings us closer to one another. Whether it’s through deep conversations, holding hands, or looking at the stars, experiences bring us closer and these experiences provide the foundation for what happens if distance should ever occur.