The Rest is Still Unwritten

I thought it would be interesting to my last blog on a song analysis instead of a book or poem analysis that we have done in the past. I picked the song "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield. 

I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined
I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

The voice doesn't have any "words" written about her, so she is considered "undefined." Because she has a closed mind, a reader could not define her because she is an "unwritten" character.  The voice says to open up your mind and express yourself through actions instead of words.  The "dirty window" acts as a shield from the outside world to let life and words flow in to life. 

Reaching for something in the distance

So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten.

The speaker wants a reader to open up to the outside world and embrace life, like reaching in the distance, because it is intangible, but is still so close and precious to a human.  The speaker is saying that no other person can describe who you are, only you can make yourself.  No other person can read your mind and be inside you.  The speaker says to "drench yourself in words unspoken" or just be yourself, and live your life with arms wide open: to the fullest.  The speaker states that today is where your life begins and it is just starting, and you can only write your own story.

I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines
We've been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can't live that way

The speaker is saying that she is not the typical person, and she can only be herself, even if it is not "normal" or "cool." The speaker states that all humans make mistakes, even if you think you are perfect.  She admits that she is not perfect, unlike others that will not admit that. 

The moral of this song is that everybody is only themselves, and all we can do is ride along life, and cannot predict what our fate and fortune is or will be.  The speaker says that is okay that we stray outside the lines, that we are not perfect, and not like anyone else. Nobody can read our minds, speak our words, feel what we feel. That what makes every person unique.  That's why I strive to never be a stereotype.  The rest of my life is still unwritten, so is yours.  

<3 Always be your own person

Why keep a journal?

Have you ever realized that most people forget the smallest details of life? Think about the time when you started high school.  Did anything interesting happen? Was it just an ordinary day? But when you think about something major, for example 9/11, how do people remember where they were, what they were doing, and how they found out? Little details are seldom remembered on a normal day, but when something major happened, a person can remember what exactly went on. This is one secret of the brain that we do not understand yet.
What if there was some way we could remember an ordinary day? I only know of one way.  That is writing.  I admit, I write in a journal to try to remember those ordinary days and details in full effect.  Not many people now keep a documentation of their writings, but some do, and those are the ones that are one day famous for writing or have an autobiography published by the time they are forty.  Think about Anne Frank, who kept a journal during her time of WWII, and is now dead, but very widely known throughout the world for her life story. There are also many writers that remember their experiences because their life was so traumatic, like Jeannette Walls in The Glass Castle, and Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer. 
All of these people went through traumatic events, and both ended up being successful writers due to just telling their own story.  Laura Ingalls Wilder, wrote many books based on her life experience, even though there was no trauma, but just a story that she probably documented.  I can think of so many books that were based off of true stories: Caddie Woodlawn, Shadow of the Titanic, To Kill a Mockingbird, Marley and Me, and  Into the Wild.  These stories were taken from true memories and had a fictional book play around them.
Many movies based off of true stories include: Secretariat,  Dolphin Tale, Soul Surfer, Hidalgo, Seabiscuit, and The Blind Side. These stories often are based off of a miracle, but there really does not have to be a miracle to make a good book or story. That's why I recommend everyone write in a journal.  Your story might be amazing too.

The (almost) Perfect Day

I sometimes have random inspirational times where I just get a pen and paper and write my ideas down.  I think this habit developed over time because I always daydream and get sidetracked thinking about other things.  About half of the time, those inspirations make absolutely no sense and I have no idea where they came from.  For example, I wrote this one when I was just sitting on my bed listening to One Direction:


"Not many people believe in the perfect day. Why? Because the perfect day is what only happens in fairy tales. You know, that stereotypical over told story where the prince and princess fall in love and ride off into the sunset? Life is no storybook, no Taylor Swift song, no dream. I am not some magical fairy that can make the perfect day happen with the flick of a wand. The only thing I can hope for is one day more to try and have that perfect day. But really? What's the point in trying? No handsome prince will ride on his white horse, sweep me off my feet, and seal the the day with a kiss. I know some people think they have lived that perfect day, no offense to them, but it will just never happen. Maybe, just maybe, the day exists that is almost perfect. I hope and pray that in someway, with someone, somehow, I will live the day that is almost perfect. Almost complete. Almost a fairy tale."


This passage is basically saying that the perfect day can really never happen.  I know it is a sad topic, but it is a harsh reality.  I have thought that I had the perfect day, but it wasn't exactly perfect.  There was always some complication, some pain, some sadness.  I really do wish that life was a fairy tale, but it really will not work out that way.  From seeing this reality, you might ask yourself, "What's the point of living?" As I said in my random piece, the point of living to me is to try to have that day that is almost perfect. Not completley flawless, but as close to perfect as allowed.  I really think I might have that day soon.  Who knows? It may be years until that almost perfect day, but I can bet on the fact that it exists.  


I know that must have seemed very preachy, talking about the meaning of life, but aren't blogs about finding about other people's opinions and lives? This is a major part of me, and I think for someone to understand me, they have to have my insights on certain topics.  By the time I die, my goal is to look back and remember a day where everything was almost perfect.  

Duke Summer 2011

On the first day of Duke Young Writer's camp, I was actually quite nervous.  Even though it was my second summer on that campus, I really didn't know what to expect.  Were my friends from last year going to be here?  Were we going to have as much fun as we did last year?  I shyly walked into the registration area in the familiar commons room.  Looking around, I did not know anyone.  My anticipation was rising, and I was terrified that I would have to make new friends and fit in with another group.  I handed in my paperwork and received my room key, meal card, and schedule of classes.  The classes were all ones I had not taken before, nor did I know the teachers.  Nothing seemed the same.  Then, as I begrudgenly went to go back and get my bags from the car, I saw a familiar flash of white blond hair.  The girl turned around quickly, like a whiplash, and saw me. "Sara!!" she said as she almost suffocated me in a hug.  The three girls she was with turned around too, and I saw two more familiar faces, only one unknown.  Joselin let me go, and Sara and Emma rushed in to greet me.  Emma's familiar Victoria's Secret perfume calmed my nerves as I remembered my old friends at camp.  The girl with the curly brown hair and large brown eyes introduced herself as Jessica.  Emma dragged me out of the room and introduced me to her roommate, a pretty redhead, Ashley, and her friend from down the hall, a tiny blond haired girl, Abbie.  I was actually quite wary of letting three other girls into our close knit group, but as time went on, we all were inseparable. The seven of us were always together, from eating lunch, to writing each other notes and sitting with each other in assembly.  A few guys flocked into our now large group, Matt, Tad, Morgan, and Cody. I really wouldn't say we were a clique, since we were not mean, but yes we were very close.  Having that many friends by my side always ensured that I could always have someone to count on from Jessica "dropping it like its hot"in front of the dining hall for our amusement, or getting high off of sugar on the last day of camp, then having a huge sleepover.  These two weeks turned out to be the most fun I have had in a long time.  This year, I hope to not be nervous, and know my new and old friends will meet me there.  

 

left to right: Ashley, Sara, Emma, Joselin, Me, Jessica, Abbie

Beastminster!

Tuesday night, the Beastminster team and I had our last game.  The team consists of Annie Williams, Claire Harvin, Margaret Banes Borden, Caroline Schraibman, Abigail Reddic, Bailey DeLoche, Marjorie Anne Foster, and potentially Clara Castles. We had an amazing season, from our traditional team breakfast/lunch/ice cream after each game, to messing around in practice (which probably ticked Mr. Borden off).  Yes, we were not the most serious team, but we are definitely very competitive.  However, we only played the minimum number of games because of our crowded schedules, but in each one we tried our hardest to win.
When I decided to do the team, I was unsure because these girls and I didn't really know each other well.  But after the season, I feel like these are some of my good friends.  Doing the team has expanded my friend relations greatly.  It's really crazy how one day a week with these girls have sparked new friendships among us.  I really look forward to doing Beastminster with them next year!

So basically thank y'all for dealing with my terrible basketball skills, giving me advice, and being a great group of friends to have this season. I hope we can do the same thing again next year!

The Transfiguration: My perspective

Today we had a gospel in church that told the story of the time when Jesus took Peter, James, and John to the top of the Mountain of Transfiguration:

After six days Jesus took with Him Peter, James and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. ² There He was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and His clothes became as white as the light. ³ Just then there appeared before them Moses and Elijah, talking with Jesus.

⁴ Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters—one for You, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”

⁵ While he was still speaking, a bright cloud enveloped them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is My Son, whom I love; with Him I am well pleased. Listen to Him!”

⁶ When the disciples heard this, they fell face down to the ground, terrified. ⁷ But Jesus came and touched them. He said, “Get up. Don’t be afraid.” ⁸ When they looked up they saw no one except Jesus.

⁹ As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus instructed them, “Do not tell anyone what you have seen, until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” (Matthew 17:1-9)

Our pastor, Brian, told us about why Peter spoke out.  He had no idea what to say; the two men he had spent years learning about, and his leader were right in front of him.  Wanting to remember this experience forever, he exclaimed that he wanted to build three temples, one for each of them. A cloud then came over them, with the voice of God, saying, "This is my son that I love, listen to him."  The disciples fell to the ground terrified.  Jesus told them to not be afraid, and that they had to leave the mountain, for they had to do work in the valley.  On the way down, Jesus told them not tell a soul what they have seen that day.

Brian referred to that as a 'mountain top experience.'  This wasn't the first time I had heard of such an experience; he had actually referred to it recently, but this was the first time I really understood the phrase.  Have you ever had a moment that you never want to leave? I actually had one yesterday at a horse show. I had just won high point champion, but had to leave that mountain quickly to the valley.  I knew that nothing was going to get done for me to do well at my next show, if I kept basking in the glory of that last event.  

I think this passage is about being humble.  One cannot bask in their glory for too long; they have to go back to the valley and do more work.  Another theory that comes out of this is that there is really no time to relax and rest.  There is no time to completely be satisfied at all you have done, until you have done everything that is to be completed.  

So what is really the moral to this blog? You can interpret it in very different ways.  I think of it as being humble.  This passage applies so much to my life, that now I vow to work to be more humble, because there is always something to do in the valley.

The Help

"The Help" is my favorite movie I have seen; ever.  I saw it recently with my mom when she forced me to watch it with her.  I did not think it would be good, but I ended up loving it!

I never really knew how the white women treated the "help" back in the 1960's.  Seeing the fact that they had to use a separate bathroom because the white women thought they carried diseases was hard for me to take in.  I had always known that the black women were treated like property when they were slaves, but seeing the women ordered around with no "please" or "thank you" made me realize how hard their lives were.  One women even got beaten by her husband, and it showed how independent and strong these women had to be to continue their hard lives.  The girls would have to be maids because they did not have enough money to support their generally large family around the age of 13.  Imagine if it was that way in our society?  We would have 13 year old girls working for lower than minimum wage to take care of our children, and carry out our duties.  It makes me think about if I was a maid; I would have already been one for a year by now.  I would have already finished school, and would be just getting used to living my life that way.

Those black maids probably loved the white children even more than their true mothers.  The white children went to the black maids when they were upset, instead of their biological mothers.  The children treated the help like their mothers, because they were the ones that raised them.  Seeing the sadness on their faces made me think about how much children love their biological mothers now, unlike back when "help" was used.  

"The Help" is a truly remarkable film, and I highly recommend it to everyone.  It has really changed my perspective.