Practicalities...

There comes a time in your life when it is no longer useful to talk about what you are going to do. You have to quit worrying about the million different things that could throw a wrench in the plan, after that you dive head first into the unknown. I think I’m at that critical moment in my life: I have been practicing for this point my whole life. Forever centered on my school life, I have finally reached that point where I am leaping into “real” life: that fabled state of existence after the seemingly never-ending processes of education.

            Theory allows for failure and mistakes, where those are learning experiences to expand and revise said theory. The practicality of it all reaps greater returns, but it is much riskier business actually putting yourself out there to experience what life has to offer. They never really tell you any of this when you’re growing up. I think it is assumed (or at least hoped) that you are able to soak up these necessary life lessons and skills throughout the learning processes, both inside and outside the classroom. Here lies the first great plot point in my life story: that time I spent five months in France…

            I have had very mixed emotions about the entirety of this experience. Many people have told me how excited they are for me, which is wonderful. Thank you for the support: the prayers, the hopes, the well wishing. I welcome every word. The problem remains, however: I haven’t quite convinced myself that I should be completely excited for this experience! My emotions have run the gamut: anxiety, nausea, irritability, and momentary apathy (those almost sound like symptoms that could be treated with a heavy dosage of Valium…). Not that there haven’t been moments of complete joy mixed with chills of excitement: I’m leaving for France! For me, apprehension has also wreaked havoc on my emotional well being. Thoughts of the untold future, thoughts of the unknown people, and thoughts of the unforeseen experiences haunt me every day. In the reasonable part of my mind that doesn’t always want to speak up, I know that these thoughts are silly and mostly superfluous. In the part of my mind that likes to blow things out of proportion, these thoughts are tantamount to every day existence.

            Ah well, that’s life, I guess.

            I guess this post is mostly to document my emotions as I run headlong into the darkness ahead. I hope to put too many pictures on this blog from my soon-to-be adventure in Europe. I also hope that I’ll be able to keep up! Only time will tell.

            With that said, I do hope that all of you will try to keep up as well! Once I have my mailing address, I will make sure to put it up on Facebook (I love snail mail…). Welp! I guess here I go! Off on an adventure at last. The journey began many months ago as a small seed of an idea; I would say we are well on our way to a sturdy sapling.

            

        In light of recent cinematographic revelations, I think it only appropriate to quote one of the most important fiction writers before my time:

“It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”

            - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

Let’s hope that I can keep my feet about me. And if not, then let’s hope the road sweeps me away for the ride of my life thus far.

Happy Adventuring!

Cold Turkey

So, I’ve been commanded to write a happy blog post. It’s been a while, I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t write something a bit more joyful. It must be this Christmas spirit. The twinkle lights, the cheery faces, and the family. Such a tangible feeling of happiness.

Anyway, that’s enough gushiness for now.

I think I may actually be moving this blog into the waters it was intended for: adventure. Not that the past two years haven’t been eventful. I’ve looked back a couple times; my how things have changed. For better or for worse, I’m still not quite sure. The best part about the future is that it is unknown. I have spent the better part of my life looking to the future (not that I’ve stopped…). What are my grades going to be? What college am I going to? Which classes am I taking next semester? Always trying to craft the best possible future, even though there really isn’t anything that will determine the future except the present.

After all of this time looking into the vast emptiness, I’ve realized that it is better to worry about today. One thing that has stuck with me over the past year: Make plans, don’t plan results. I’ve spent my life envisioning the results, trying to figure out what tomorrow brings. It has been a necessity. Today, and maybe a few more todays, I’m going to worry about the present. No, not worry. I’m going to embrace the present!

So, for the great news that most of you probably know: I’m leaving for France on January 11 for a five-month study abroad in Grenoble. Yep. That sums up my life for the next semester. So. Freaking. Excited. Oh, and nervous. Did I mention that I’m nervous/anxious/apprehensive? It’s a rollercoaster of emotion, but at the end of the day I remind myself that I’m going to be doing something amazing.

Five months. Wow. I’m not sure I even comprehend how much time that really is going to be. I have friends that are off on missions for 18 months at a time, and I’m worried about a measly five months. But grief! I haven’t been out of Utah longer than 10 days at a time. I’ve lived a life safe from the world, and now I’m throwing myself into the thick of it. Quitting the safety blanket: cold turkey.

So. The plans are set. Plane tickets bought. Visa slapped into the ol’ passport. New luggage, new clothes, new power adapters. Hundreds of questions, both answered and unanswered. I’m officially walking into unknown territory in t-minus 11 days.

Wow. Yeah, if you can’t tell, I’m a bit out of my league. But, hey! I’m staying in there, I’ll keep swinging. I’ll make sure to keep everyone updated while I’m out there, off in new-to-me parts of the world. Now I can only hope that I can fit my life into a suitcase and a backpack. Minimalism to the extreme.

This is the last blog post of the year. I have less than twenty minutes of 2012 left, and my heart is pounding. What will this New Year bring? Another year has been added to my history, and a new year waits. I’m not sure if I will make a resolution. Maybe I will resolve to scare myself more. Leave the security blanket behind and live life. Maybe once I start freeing myself from the self-created restraints, I might actually be confident enough to live the life I want to live.

Wish me luck! Here’s to a new year, new experiences, a new stretch in this crazy adventure called life.

Descriptions

Again with the time! Always midnight before I know it. 

I guess it is time to let you know the “Who” of this blog. I, personally, do not give much credit to anonymous written works. They were definitely written by someone, but that doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. Actually, even when I do know the “Who,” I’m not much inclined to care.

Anyway, on with it then.

I could start with my name: Jesse. That is who I am. On paper, I am Jesse E. Sheets. The United States government views me as a nine-digit number. That is also part of who I am. I am also a place. Moab. My hometown. The place of happiness, the place of my memories, but also a place of pain and remembrance. I am considered to be (firstly) a son, then a brother, a grandson, a nephew, a boyfriend, a friend, a best friend, a confidant, and sometimes an individual. Again, these are all very good descriptors, but I still haven’t told you who I am. 

To answer that question, you will have to follow my blog. I am still on the road to the city of “Who-i-am.”

I am a student. A student of life, yes, but also a student at heart as well. Learning gives me hope and sets me at peace. I could not get through each day without learning. For the past few months, I have been learning French. That is a task in itself, but again a joyous experience. For the past year, I have been a student of ceramics. No, I’m not an Art major, but it is definitely a passion. For the past two years, I have studied the daily actions and observed the “little things” as a boyfriend. English, most of the time, doesn’t have the right words to explain things. Yes, I am her boyfriend, but I believe I am so much more to her. It will be two years to the day on March 31 that I have been studying to become what she needs me to be. And for my life, I have been studying the (sometimes demented) English language. I’m sure that you have noticed that I still haven’t gotten that area of study nailed down.

Descriptors aren’t my strong suit. By those I love and value, I have been called “Retard,” “Odd,” “Sarcastic,” and even “Sadistic.” I smile as I write this, because only one of those was said with any malice. I have been known to be “docile” as well as “quick-tempered.” Of course, description varies with knowledge. 

At a glance, I’m not much. If someone were to give a quick review it might go something like this:

“Mr. Sheets. What is there to say. He keeps his nose down, quiet, docile young man with some interests that aren’t well defined. He does good in school, but he does not ask questions. He is well-mannered and polite, sometimes even apologetic. He does not seem like the zealous sort, nor does he fit the description of outgoing.”

Again, description comes from knowledge. My friends have complained of my apologetic ways. Other friends have found it entertaining to see how quickly they can make me blush. What can I say? I’m a blusher. It is entertaining to see what they come up with. Others would approach my description as timid and shy. While still others could say that I’m charismatic and even outspoken. 

Macey and Me

Apart from descriptions are names. I have been know as Jes for a long time. That is for people that are close to me. When I played sports (fun fact), I was known as “Bulldog,” though it never seemed to apply. My manager knows me as “Fledgling.” She usually includes a sing-song “Fledgy,” and sometimes looks at me like I’m adorable. (This, in turn, usually makes me blush.) My sister (only sibling) liked to annoy me by calling me “Girlfriend.” Now she resorts to “Brah” as her mainstay. My girlfriend, Macey, has many names for me. Some more loving than the others: Sweetheart, Honey, Sweetie. Then there are the ones like Buttmunch, Buttface, and other creative twists that are only ever said with loving sarcasm.

Hmmm…

Jack

I have one sister. Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, and an assortment of family members that aren’t related. I am the proud owner of a Boston Terrier named Jack. But I also love his mom, Maggie. My sister has always had a menagerie of pets, from chickens to goats to snakes to birds to cats. Her current kitten, named Primm, but nicknamed by my Nana as El Gato Diablo Psycho. Fortunately, my sister and Primm have similar personalities, so they get along just fine. I have also been adopted by at least two people as their surrogate son, and I have become the “little brother I’ve always wanted.”

I could go on and on, but I won’t. I’m sure no one will read this far down the page anyway. I am a singular entity on this vast planet that is searching for his niche. 

I’ll let you know if I ever find it.

Midnight.

Midnight. The tween time. The time of the witching, the time of magic, the time when I realize that I should’ve gone to bed two hours ago. But, I know that I will be up for at least another hour because I miss my friends in the early morning hours. One, Two and I sometimes become reacquainted with Three.

Personally, midnight is also the best time for beginnings. It is the best time to start up something without stress. It is the best time to begin the unachievable goal of writing for myself. Even now, as the city lights glow outside of my window and the darkness presses in around the lights, I know that it will be immensely difficult to keep up with this “blog.” But I will do my best.

I guess the best place to start would be to ask why a blog? Why write everything down into a place that literally millions of people have access to each day. I guess the best way to answer that question is because I can. There isn’t anything stopping me from telling the world about my day. The world doesn’t have to listen, but I know that I have invested that much more time into improving myself and allowing little bits of myself to slip through the cracks, the facade, and into the waiting abyss.

"A journey of a thousand miles
must begin with a single step."
--Lao Tzu

I also feel that the media of written work reaches farther than anything else could. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and yes that may be true, but let’s also say that there is no picture. There is no other way to express how I feel, how my day went, unless I write it down. Each blog could be a thousand words. A thousand meticulously placed words ready to describe any scenario, any picture, any moment that I want them to.

This leads me back to beginnings. The beginning of life is a screaming child, slimed and kicking ready (or not) to take on the world. The beginning of a vacation (at least in my family) is a flurry of packing and raised tempers. The beginning of the universe (some say) was a momentous explosion (the hand of God?) that rippled through the … “nothingness” and made new what had not been before.

My beginning will be quiet. Words uttered in the silence of my mind. No congratulatory cigar, no champagne christening, no ballroom masquerade. Just the words of beginning that cannot be hindered. The words that can escape like smoke through fingers. Melt hearts like a warm knife through butter. Mend wounds faster than any physician. Break hearts in a matter of seconds. And secure love (long lasting) in a few lines. 

Words are the most powerful and wonderful thing to own. There is a certain responsibility that comes with embracing words as the chosen media. I am now responsible for every utterance. Every syllable. Even if only one or two people ever read this, I am responsible for what they read, and I am responsible for the reaction it evokes. Humans (most at least) have this happy responsibility. We must make the decision each day. We must be responsible for what is said, what is written, and what it means.

So, this is the beginning. A new, wonderful, powerful beginning to a fresh look at the world. The world that I will describe through my own interpretations as I see it. Everything should be taken with a grain of salt (or maybe a salt shaker).

The world is waiting to be explored, and I cannot wait for adventure.