Today was heavy. I'm not even done with it yet.

Breakfast with shallow friends always just makes me feel sort of useless. Limp. They're not the type of people who would care for a deviant opinion from their own, so I was just quiet. But I made a note; I don't desire a deep relationship with them, especially given they don't seem to desire that with anyone. In general I desire that sort of relationship but it can't be every relationship. Investing time and effort is not an easy thing to do, and it's gotta be driven by something, desire or care or something.

In Drawing we were talking about seeing. You can see trees and birds and clouds but can you see the air in between you and them? Can you focus your vision and your thoughts on the bugs flying around in that space? There's so much in the world, a vastness in the truest sense, an unexplainable, unquantifiable, unlimited amount of angles to see. It's not possible to capture or even just to know each one. The world has layers, and we have layers of seeing.

The same is true for people. You see people, every single day, doing people things. We walk, we interact with each other, we eat, there's an endless amount of things. Even the people we have relationship with, even ourselves, there are things we are missing. There is so much to a human soul, so much not seen. Not just dark insecurities or secret desires; everybody has a past and every part of that past has a story, those interweave and connect with each other endlessly.

I am just beginning to learn about me. Why I think the way I do, why I believe what I believe, why I care about what I care about and why I struggle with the things I struggle through. When you experience a strong sadness or a strong joy you almost feel as though you've never experienced it that truly before, which is sort of how I feel about my knowledge of myself. It's a slow process, although it usually feels like it's hitting me hard, and all at once. It's like in the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, when Eustace has to have his dragon skin peeled off to reveal the boy underneath. Layers of him are removed and he experiences incredible pain, but he knows once it's done he'll be his true self. And I've barely started the process.

After my shallow breakfast I went to class where we talked about defining art, defining theology, combining the two and the existence of things, the philosophy and theology of the here and now, topics I can barely unfold even while listening to brilliant discussion on it. The next class we discussed seeing and depths and vastness of the world, then off to a meeting where we skimmed the surface of the topic of gender equality, where I sat in quiet frustration, as I had in my previous classes, attempting to make sense of the mess that is my head in order to have some form of a statement to share.

But I find myself sitting there, listening to the group making points and discussing and sharing and I am just listening. I believe that I believe what I have to say holds value and is worth sharing. But I don't have enough space to think outside of my head, to demand that they pause so I can struggle through my jumbly thoughts. Why do I think like that? I am fully a part of each of these groups, nobody is demanding anything, for goodness sakes that's what a discussion is supposed to be. I am a capable, thinking individual. I have thoughts, I just don't share. Why do I hold it? It might be a selfish, listening and processing, taking and not giving sort of thing. But it might just be that because I have difficulty stringing my thoughts and questions into coherent sentences, I am too afraid to have them struggle with me through it. I don't want to take that space for myself. I don't know that my words are valued that much.

Somebody who cares for me put his hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes as I talked about this later. He assured me, he values what I have to say and is not only willing but he wants to be a part of that process. He doesn't mind if I need more space to think while I talk, he places that much worth in my words. My first thought was yeah, well that's just you, I can't guarantee that with everyone here. My second thought was wondering why I've always felt the opposite to be true. Do I really believe my words to be valuable if I will only say the ones I feel confident in articulating and know will be listened to and received well?

It's a beginning and a continuation of things.