I got to thinking about nerves. There’s really nothing we can do about nerves, except for taking a deep breath, letting ourselves know that it’ll all be okay. Nerves sneak up on us and take over moments we cannot control, nor ever get back. But sometimes, nerves are healthy. Nervousness forces us to do better, be better, and work harder. All we can do about nerves at the end of the day: keep our belief in ourselves. With that, nerves will slowly subside.

I got to thinking about birthdays. Birthdays are important. Birthdays are special occasions. Birthdays enable us to be the king or queen for the day. And what’s more exciting than that? But if your loved ones forget your birthday, you’re out of luck; more than that, you’re deeply hurt. How can someone’s own children disregard their mother’s birthday? How insensitive can you be? Don’t ever forget a loved one’s birthday. Birthdays aren’t really about getting older; birthdays are about being pampered by the ones we love.

I got to thinking about leaving home. Leaving home for college, a job, or merely a change of scenery. I’ve never dealt with leaving home like an adult should. I cry, thinking that the world is over. But in fact, it’s not. I leave home for several reasons: I don’t like my hometown, the weather, the vibe. My college isn’t near home, either. And I don’t plan on coming back to my hometown after I graduate. I wish I could or would. But I’ve discovered that happiness begins in a place where you’re settled, where you’re happy. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. I’m spreading my wings. I will face leaving home with confidence, poise, and happiness. It’s really just about adjustment, anyway. Once you’re adjusted, any place can be home.

I got to thinking about Catholic guilt. It’s true, you know. We Catholics feel guilty about anything. I’ve held onto some guilt my entire life. This guilt hangs over our heads, forcing us to stress and make the next decision with more clarity and poise. Does this guilt make us better? Wiser? Stronger? I think that it does. It makes us know what we’ve done was wrong, that we must fix it the next time around. And yes, it is stressful, no doubt. But I’ve also discovered that Catholic guilt has served to help me make wiser decisions. I cannot do what is always right for me. It isn’t all about me, unfortunately. But it’s also important to remember that letting things hang over our heads doesn’t solve anything. Feel your Catholic guilt, and make it better the next time. That is all.

I got to thinking about selfishness. What’s the difference between independence and selfishness? Are we considered to be selfish if we don’t count on anyone for anything? Are we snobs? What if we don’t expect anything, therefore share anything, without question? Can we be independent without being selfish? Or do these things go hand in hand?

I got to thinking about articulation. As a writer, I find myself telling stories left and right. Humbly, I’d say that these stories are well thought-out and rehashed to my best ability. But this doesn’t seem to be quite the same in speech. My writing appears to be articulate; my speaking skills do not. Why is this? My stories seem to start and stop when I tell them aloud; there’s never a perfect flow. My inciting moments are left in the dust. How is it that I can be articulate in the written word, but not in everyday speech?

I got to thinking about discovery. We discover new things everyday: things about ourselves, things about others, things about the world. The most amazing part of discovery about the world is that we learn what is new, what is possible. This possibility rests in our laps. We must open our minds and our hearts to these vast possibilities. In this, we can discover who we want to be, where we want to be. And this is an amazing, exhilarating way to live. I’ve discovered many things about myself in college, simply from living in a new city. I know what I like about the world, and I know what I don’t like. I’ve learned this from keeping an open mind and discovering what the world has to offer. I challenge each and every one of you to do the same. Discover the possibilities; follow your heart.

I got to thinking about the ocean. The ocean and its vastness. The ocean and its dream-inducing qualities. The ocean, to me, is one of the most beautiful sights in the world. But even better: the drive on California Highway 1 from San Simeon to Big Sur. The ocean is as blue as a Crayola crayon. The road is windy and quite intimidating, but oh-so-gorgeous. It’s one of the most spectacular sights I’ve ever seen. And sights like that are important for us writers; we create ideas through beauty and vastness. We become immersed in this fantasy-like world that just so happens to be real. Big Sur doesn’t seem real; its loveliness seems too good to be true. But it’s real. And I highly recommend anyone taking that drive. You’ll be holding on for dear life; but it’s definitely worth it.

I got to thinking about travel. I’m feeling a little bit of wanderlust as of late. The semester is ending and I’m taking a much needed, relaxing vacation: a road trip. There’s something inspiring about road trips. You get to take the scenic route. You get to see things you normally don’t see, sometimes things you’ll never see again. That’s magical. There’s so much world for us to see, and we must take advantage of it. I won’t be back online for a few days, but know that my next few posts will be inspiring. I’ll write down every detail of my trip. After all, the best writing comes from what we notice.

I got to thinking about the difference between living and existing. What is this difference? Do we live to exist? Or exist to live? I’ve always found myself pondering this question. I find it to be like this: existing is going to that 9 to 5 job everyday that you don’t enjoy. It may bring in money, but it doesn’t satisfy you, it doesn’t make you want to be better, learn more, or ensure happiness. Living is doing what you love. Maybe this doesn’t produce much money, but at least you can say at the end of the day that you’re doing what you love, that you’re happy, that you’re following your dream. I’ve always found this to be a writer’s existence. We write because it makes us happy, that is really all we can ask for. I feel alive when I write; I can express myself in ways that I never knew were possible. This is my dream. And I will always follow it. So be brave, follow your dream. You won’t regret living.