I'm tumblin' and rollin' all over the place! Follow me and watch what I post - pssst it's the things that make my heart sing.

my tumblr

If only love could really be this easy and uncomplicated, huh? Can I get an 'amen?'

The Sound of Silence

I like silence.

Is it because I'm constantly thinking and have too much happening in my own brain to care what other people have to say? Is it because I don't have anything interesting to say, or really anything to say at all? Am I a fan of silence because it makes people feel awkward?

Some of my favorite relationships are with those that enjoy to just be. To just sit and enjoy the silence. To sit and watch the waves and just soak life in. Side by side.

I appreciate the silence and find it to, often, say more than words can.

Or maybe I just get tired of hearing people talk...

So, maybe everyone should just stop talking and watch this video.

My good friend Adam Moser is an artist and a grad student up in Portland, doing his thing by binding art with community. Before he left Greensboro, he and some friends set up Spare Room, which is their project to start fueling the art community in Greensboro. Check out this video. I hope you leave feeling inspired.

In other news, a fun day of biking and lounging outside has left my forehead and forearms resembling lobsters.

Posterity

I was sitting in a bar one evening with a friend that I hadn't spoken to in a really long time. Let's just say, our departure from each other wasn't mutual and wasn't clear. So, after a good 6 months, we reconnected because everyone needs resolution.

As we were recounting the people we were when we knew each other he said, "My old self dies when I move on and I'll never be that person again, even if I wish I could."

I disagreed. The old us never dies. Sure we age and we grow, but we will always be a different version of ourselves and the old versions are still a part of us. When you add strawberries to a slice of cheesecake, it's still cheesecake. Yeah?

I think for a lot of us, this can be incredibly scary, especially when we don't want the old us to be around anymore, when we are trying desperately to escape, to redefine, to change. But it can be incredibly positive when we lose touch with our hearts and ambition. To know that the girl with the idealism to change the world and give everyone a fair chance at freedom, health, and equality is still deep within me, is comforting.

The past few weeks, I've been going back through my blog entries to remember the person I was 1, 2, 3 years ago. It's weird to look back and see what was on my mind and what inspired my word vomit all over this blog.

I remember sitting in my Sociology classes having my mind blown. Putting away my notebook, shrugging on my bookbag, leaving my iPod turned off, and walking that 1/2 mile home with only my thoughts spinning in my head. I remember feeling so hopeful that I could indeed adversely change the outcome of the future. I remember feeling so excited for graduation, determined to get out of Greensboro, into the misery of the world and seek reformation.

And now I'm here. Almost 2 years out of school. I'm working for a non-profit that brings hope and sheds light on the very hairy and oppressive life forced upon millions of North Koreans.

I'm doing what I had wanted to do. Pre-graduation-Leah would be proud.

Though, there are a lot of things I miss about my old self. My lack of complacency and my determination to not fall victim to the common wants and needs of 20-something year old women. I was restless, I was eager, I was fascinated with all the possibilities of the future.

But I was feeling those things, resting from the comfort of not-knowing. Of not knowing how much sweat and grease and grim it takes to make a dent in a humanitarian crisis. Of not knowing how deep and historical and intrinsic much of world's problems are. Of not knowing what truly makes my heart sing and my bones stir.

And I'm here, like I said, doing what I wanted to do. My 9- 5 (sometimes more) and social life checks off the list that I had subconsciously made for myself. But my old self is missing. Well, not missing, but dormant.

So, how do I conjure up my old-self? It's still in there, I just know it. How do I regain that sense of invincibility and determination?

Do you all struggle with this? Do you think it is death to the old-self and you just need to make art with whatever you've got now? No turning back? Maybe I have moved on. Maybe it was all naivete and now, the real world has confronted me and I'm backing down.

But with all of my might, I don't want that to be true. I remember those feelings I had in college and, my gosh, they provoked fire. I want it back.

Do you have 13 minutes to spare?

If so, watch this video. If you've ever ridden on the NYC subway, you'll get it. If you're alive and have ever been anywhere with strangers, you'll get it.

Because it's Bill Haverchuck...