All we can do is keep breathing

You know those moments when you realize that everything really will be okay?

I've had multiple in the past couple of days.

And they've been exactly what I've needed.

Just small reassurances. Some big ones, too.

Like talking with non-BYU students and realizing how much I love diversity of thought, culture, and experience. And realizing that I am going to love graduate school.

Or running into old high school friends you haven't seen in ages. And just being able to talk about life in a way only old friends can. And just knowing that you both care about each other and each other's lives so much. True care. True compassion. Old loyalty and friendship. And reminding each other that people really are trying, even though we all come up short. [I really, really needed all of these reminders tonight--I just didn't realize how much. And isn't it interesting that they came from a person that I rarely see anymore? But I love his advice, friendship, and concern all the same. Perhaps all the more.]

Eating papusas for the first time in my life. [I know, I know, where I have I been all my life? Not living, apparently.]

Almost-finishing War and Peace. I have fifty pages left. It's been a journey. With so many beautiful vistas and things to ponder about. Like this line:

"Once you allow that human life is subject to reason you extinguish any possibility of life." (1261)

Because sometimes, even when everyone you love is telling you that things will be okay, and even though intellectually you know (or at least, you say you know) everything will be fine, you don't believe it until you feel it, deep down in your bones, sure as blood. That small place in your chest finally fills with light and peace--and calm. And you feel life coming back into you, like green pushing through winter branches.

So comes hope.