life in deep, passionate breaths.

In such a strange and beautiful place of my life.

I don't even know what to call it, or how to describe it...

except that, perhaps, in the midst of all my mess-making

and soul-stretching I'm becoming a little more of what it looks like

to be me in full bloom. to know what it is to blossom.

And it aches, yet it's so gorgeous.

There's a lot of knowing, and a great deal more of not really knowing at all.

On that note, I've become more aware of an idea that sort of drives my social life as of late.

A person's intentions are key in relationships.

By that I mean any sort of relationship between any two people,

platonic or otherwise.

We are constantly making attempts to discern the intentions of the people in our lives.

It's a marvelous tool people use for self-preservation.

Many times it makes me ask why people do the things they do,

saying the things that they say.

Intentions give life to a whole world of ideas and words.

Right down to the way a person stands can be driven by the way a person intends to live their life, subconsciously or consciously.

I don't know where to go with this except that it amazes me.

Community is a difficult thing, in that respect.

I don't really always like who I am when I stand next to other people,

and when you put yourself next to a person of one kind or another,

it forces you to face yourself. Who are you, really? Who do you think you are?

It asks you to choose the directions you'll go,

makes you say things. It requires that you become intentional.

Sometimes, community rubs you the wrong way.

And when you're tired, perhaps you don't want to be around people.

Perhaps you just want to go to bed and not see anyone.

There are times when I have to push past myself to spend time with people,

knowing that time with them is far more valuable than how I feel at that moment.

Or someone asks to borrow something of yours.

I always cringe at the thought of that, but I'm not sure why.

Perhaps it's because my willingness to give has not come to repay me with kindness.

Not in the sense that I give... offering something to someone doesn't bother me at all,

I love to be able to do that.

It's when people sometimes ask me to borrow a thing,

I lock up, I hesitate. I have to force myself to say yes, because it goes against the very nature of the walls I may have built to protect myself.

It's vulnerable, to lend something of yours.

I have to demand of myself to not be possessive, and yet I don't consider myself possessive.

Things are just things, and yet...

Being around people more and more lately, I've noticed this.

I don't like it, but I think I may understand it, without knowing it's origin.

I don't like to feel as though I'm being taken advantage of.

In some indirect way, perhaps I fear my kindness is being taken advantage of in this regard.

It's very hard to admit, but it's true. It's kind of freeing to say, actually.

Successful community sort of comes with the unspoken requirement that you give up many of what we consider "rights". The right to disengage whenever we wish, the right to stay back and keep our walls. The right to be offended at any little thing a person may do or not do. Individual rights, I suppose I should say. Individual rights tend to come with an implication of privacy, or self-preservation. When you're more concerned with your individual rights as a person than with the welfare of others, community fails. It is false, a mere imitation of the idea. More like a gathering of individuals in a place than a meshing of hearts and souls. I think we spend much of our life trying to give up those rights, and then struggling to get them back again when no one's looking.

I am in that tug of war.

On a different note,

I'm doing things that I've always wanted to do for the first time,

and it kind of terrifies me.

Film photography, using a dark room,

Painting with oil paints,

Designing.

Not only that, but just doing things that I find precious in life,

being able to simply ride my bike from place to place.

That's really beautiful, there's something peaceful about it.

Running at night with friends.

Night swimming.

Grilling out.

Blossoming.