Stories

I think I know why I am here.

People come and go. I have experienced the fragile, fickleness of people. Where one moment there is affection and friendship, the next there can be damaging anger and antipathy, causing a sickness of the heart and mind. I have often felt the earth fall into a void, right out from under my feet, and I am left stranded and breathless. I have experienced this from close family. I have experienced this from close friends. Coworkers, acquaintances, people I see on the street. From great distance and also from a hair’s breadth away. They can leave permanent change or temporary ones. But from what I have experienced, all people fade, or leave, or hurt you, or change irrevocably. It’s a losing battle if I lay down my heart and soul within other people. It is not because of them that I know what I am meant for. 

Stories, ideas, legend, fairy tales - the brilliant changing vortex of literature roils around me. I cannot trust people – but I can comfortably let my soul drift, shining beyond the strength of a thousand suns, in the lapping waves of a story. Only there can I trust. Only there am I at peace. I can walk hand in hand with Lucy in Narnia. I can breathe the air of Lothlorien. No door is closed to me. Stories will never die, never fade, never betray or hurt or defame or spite. They can still change me, for better or worse, but with a kind of safety net. They will never let go. Stories will always be there, holding me in place. Stories will always be there – it’s the air I breathe, “stored up on purpose for a life beyond life” (quote from the New York Public Library, on 42^nd and 5^th Ave.)

Stories are infinite. If I can smile in the face of the big bad monster, it’s only because I am holding onto dear life to these stories. These legends, these fairy tales, these everyday comings and goings.

I know why I am here. I am here, whole and beautiful, because of these tales. I am here to keep reading, unearthing the wonder, the impact, the essentialness, of stories. I want to be part of that larger, beautiful growth, that forever timeline, of keeping these stories alive. To partake in the infinite. For me, “that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great” (Willa Cather).

I know why I am here.

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This is for Dr. Chmiel, who encourages me to share pieces which are hidden away in my journals. This is from a few days ago, which I wrote down in my journal. It is published here in its rough form, no edits. I hope to develop this into a more polished, personal manifesto. For those of you who don't know, I'm an English major and I'm applying to graduate school. I'd been struggling for some time to articulate my reasons for wanting to go to grad school, and out of that struggle came this. Enjoy!