I’m twenty-three years old but last night I just needed to be my parents’ child.  Sandwiched between them on the couch I felt secure.  With my dad sitting beside me I felt safe and protected and with my mother beside me I felt cradled and comforted.  Holding onto my dads hand I took a deep breath…and started to talk.  I had to stop several times, but they never said a word…they just let me be until I was ready to continue.  I looked over at one point and saw tears rolling down my dad’s cheek; it was the first time I’d ever seen him cry.  We cried together.  I knew talking about everything we’d been through was hard for both of them, but I continued anyway...no editing; just saying what was in my heart and on my mind.   I felt like a volcano erupting.  I’d held everything inside until it hurt more to hold onto it than to just let it go.  I think in turn my parents needed to hear what I had to say just as much as I felt it needed to be said.  After I finished I suddenly felt very tired; but somehow restored. 

There was no beauty to be found in this breakdown.  What I found was a release from the heaviness I’d up until that moment been holding onto. 

Will I always be both impetuous and solicitous?  The answer to that is definitely, however, I’d like to think I can go back to being a solid balance between the two.  Finding my balance has been to this day a constant surprise to me.  I started out in this world twenty three years ago, that’s twenty three years of seeking knowledge and the only thing I know for sure is some people have it all figured out and I am obviously not one of them.

Kelly Stephens

…however,

     worriment and indecisiveness can also be considered my biggest flaws.  This is where my chinked armor comes into the equation.  When a person starts to worry about the little issues in life just as much as they would worry about big issues, then “Houston we have a problem!”.  Houston has been raking in time-and-a-half because of me lately.  Key word in the last sentence is lately.  January until now has been the time frame lately pertains to.  It all started when I experienced my first great loss and from there things just spiraled into a complicated worrisome time for both me and the most important people in my life.  One incident right after the other, never having a moments rest to mourn properly… Yes, that has been my experience lately. 

Ever heard the saying, “There’s beauty in the breakdown.”?  Yeah, whoever said that was some poetic pisser who cherishes tears as much as a chubby girl cherishes her chocolate.  I know this because last night I had a small scale emotional breakdown.  It’s never a good idea to bottle up emotions, because when they are released it’s like a tidal wave crashing down and whoever is in your presence will be on the receiving end of this wave (not a pretty sight).  In my case I crashed into rocks; my parents.  They stood before me and let me experience for the first time in my life what it feels like to mourn.  Without saying a word they soothed my pain.  In situations such as this words aren’t important.  What I needed was a crutch to hold onto so I could for just a moment let go.  They let me lean on them and in doing so…we were able to lean on each other. 

I have an overactive mind. At times like these, it taunts me with thoughts like this…

     Impetuous and solicitous are two words that represent effectively two consistent extremes of my inner nature.  Typically I can find a happy medium between the two traits.  However, the past few months have been anything but typical for me.  In truth I believe it all boils down to my inability to accept change.  By change I mean anything from inconsistent plans, to a shift in a friendship…in other words little changes and big changes are equally hard for me to handle.  Continuity has always been my most treasured ally.  Until recently I did not realize this was such a weighty issue for me.  Realizing a “chink in one’s armor” can be intimidating.  This kind of intimidation isn’t a bully on a playground or a menace in an office; it’s a silent coercion going on in the mind. 

     I’m guilty of worrying and over-thinking; I view both as strength and weakness.  The consideration and thought I allocate to making decisions can be viewed as principled.  I’ll never be the executor of haste decisions.  Although this hasn’t always been the case for me; in my youth more often than not I chose to ignore the right choice and head straight for what I knew was wrong (rebellion).  I don’t regret choosing the wrong path occasionally, because eventually I’d stumble upon the right path.  My past experiences have only strengthened my character today, not tarnished it.  Now I can look back on the path I’ve walked thus far and know that no matter how many shifts in the road came about, I always found my way back in the right direction…there is a certain strength in knowing you’re capable of finding your own way and making it work for you.  I can thank my dad for passing to me defining characteristics such as; skepticism, indecisiveness, worriment and prognostic tendencies (aka gut feeling).  These characteristics are viewed by many as negative traits; I disagree with them strongly.  Then there are the traits my mother has so graciously shared with me…compassion, reverence, amiability, comity and refinement.  I’m empathetic to a fault and I thank and blame my mother for that trait as well.  Currently I go into any given situation mindfully.  I believe being mindful of your actions is one of the strongest attributes a sole can possess.