I've dealt with my ghosts and I've faced all my demons...

Our passions are the true phoenixes; when the old one is burnt out, a new one rises from its ashes.  ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I thought I knew what I wanted out of life when I started at Taylor in the fall of 2006: to get a degree in classical music, and see where that took me. I thought I had further developed that same passion by the time I graduated in May 2010. By then I thought the plan was Master's and Doctorate in performance or pedagogy and teach at a university. That, however went to the dogs for several reasons, not the least of which is the fact that I wasn't ordained to be in that program or that part of the state at that time, which I guess is okay. So, that left me with a year of my life where I was just absolutely floating. You've all met me, you know that a lack of direction is just about impossible for me to cope with in my life. We moved to Batesville and Matthew started teaching. I started searching. I subbed for awhile, but that was definitely not for me. I got a job as a nanny, which I really do love, but Emmy will grow up and stop needing me...it's not a career, it's not a forever job. So, I began to feel stuck; discontent. I wrestled with this for a long time, and even just sat it in for awhile.

Let's think back though. Those of you who went to high school in Indiana remember that junior year we had to write our first dreaded real life research paper. One of the topics I could choose was a career that interested me. I wrote my paper on a field that was basically unheard of at the time. A branch of the psychological sciences, but something that also plays to raw emotion. This field allows someone seeking a career to take so many paths. It's highly employable, highly valuable, and highly lucrative. The best part? It incorporates the thing that has been my passion since I was just a tiny child. It's music therapy.

My passion is rising again from the ashes, but has taken a new form. I am thrilled to be pursuing this as a career. I am taking some basic psych and science classes through the local community college in order to prepare myself for the music therapy program I will enter in the fall of 2012. The program is through IUPUI, and is termed a music therapy equivalency program. It is not strictly a degree program, but once I have completed it, and all the clinicals that go with it, I will be eligible to sit for the Music Therapy Association boards to become a certified music therapist. The school has a subsequent master's program that I would also pursue. Jobs in this field include work with children with developmental disabilities, patients in rest homes, and some hospitals even hire full time music therapists. In a lot of ways, I could end up surrounded by a good bit of tragedy, but the more I think about it, the more I realize I have thrived through tragedy my whole life. That I have hope. I think my ability to cling to hope will allow me to be excellent at what I do.

So...logistically:

----Without saying a lot because I never know who is reading this, the school is in Indianapolis. 1.5 hours from where we live now. You understand the issue here.

----Technically, I have yet to be admitted to the school or the program. I am amid the application process as we speak. My biggest obstacle is learning to play the guitar and improving my piano skills. These are both necessary for admittance to the program.

----I start my first class in just a few weeks. It's a Lifespan Development class. It's unlike anything I've taken before, and it is entirely online.

----Our finances will become very stretched with me becoming a full time student again.

----You are all aware of the turmoil surrounding us in our personal lives right now. I need to not use this as an escape, as something to dive into, as a way to be avoidant.


All this being said, I am stepping out in faith. Matthew is very supportive and is excited to see where this all takes me and us. We appreciate your thoughts and prayers as we go on this journey.

She threw her arms around him...(or why I'm more than a little jealous that I can't)

               It never gets any better, not being able to throw my arms around my dad and hug him. It just doesn't. I know some readers/friends/family members might be exhausted of hearing about my feelings surrounding the loss of my father, something that happened nearly a staggering 8 years ago, but I figure if dealing with his loss never really gets any better, then why should I have to keep quiet about it. Yes, I know I am leading a blessed life, I have been given the opportunity to travel, I have an extraordinary musical ability, I have a wonderful husband, great friends, and a family that would do anything for me, not to mention a Savior who loves me and has given me hope that there WILL be a reunion. You know what though? I am comfortable enough in who I am to tell you that ALL of those things are not enough to cover the hurt. Call me ungrateful, jaded, tell me I'm missing the point, whatever. Today, and more days than I'd like to admit, it hurts more than words that I am RAPIDLY approaching a point where I have lived more years of my life without my dad than with him.

My first Christmas. One of only 15 I would ever share with my dad. In what universe is that acceptable? And sure, I should be, and of course am, thankful for each of those, but today it hurts too much to be optimistic. He loved Christmas. He loved that he had a family to take care of, to laugh with, and smile with.

A typical fantastic summer day for us. What was so wrong with this simple life that we lived? Why couldn't it have endured a little longer? I mean, until I graduated college maybe? Oh wait, by sunrise the day after my college graduation I had lost my last living grandparent. Sometimes I look at my life and I think, "Seriously?!?!?"

It's not often that all a person wants is a simple hug, but days like today I can't think of anything else. I feel so selfish when there are people who have lost so much more than me. The destitute, the lost, the broken...I feel like I should just get up out of my chair right now and forget about myself and go help them. However---I know that my beliefs call me to be real with people. I know we talked about rejoicing always today in church and I am fully acknowledging that this is me failing miserably at that. Here I am, broken and bleeding in front of you. Today, this loss is stealing my joy. I miss him terribly. I want a hug from my dad, and I can't even find comfort in my heavenly Father. For those of you who are reading, I'm terribly sorry for such a maudlin return to my blog. I needed to get it off my chest and admit it to someone besides myself.