Embracing the Mess. Again.

Hypocrite: someone who says one thing and does another.

Or, if we want to get technical, Dictionary.com defines it: a person who feigns some desirable or publicly approved attitude, especially one whose private life, opinions, or statements belie his or her public statements.

Aka, this kid.

My last post was about embracing the mess, learning to love the uncertainty of things, and being alright with the fact that no one REALLY knows what they’re doing when it comes to life.

Less than an hour after posting that, I did some recreational writing, the type that will never end up on here, but is simply for my own well-being.

And…I freaked out in ink.

About how I don’t know what I’m doing.

And I’m afraid I could mess things up.

In other words, exactly the things I said that it’s ok to be ok with.

(Did you hear that noise? It was me, hitting my forehead with my palm. Cause I’m RIDICULOUS.)

It be easy at this point to slough this off with a, “Well everybody does stuff like that.” Which they do. But that doesn’t make it any better. If I really believe the words I type, which I do, why on earth am I still freaking out about  not knowing what I’m doing?

Oh yea…cause I’m human. Drat.

Because as good as it sounds to embrace the mess and be ok with not knowing what we’re doing, it’s not easy. Writing words is much easier than living them out. I’m not excusing my freak out, or trying to pretend that I did it simply so I could write a blog post about how hard it really is to embrace the mess. Fact of the matter is, I am not perfect. I am very, very far from it. I write because I feel compelled to, and honestly, though it may be selfish, most of my posts are more for my own benefit than anyone else’s. My most recent one was no different, and my ignoring it within an hour of posting it shows that quite clearly, I do believe.

So I remind myself again: it’s ok that life doesn’t make sense. Embrace the mess. EMBRACE THE MESS, BRIANNA!

Til next time…


Embracing the Mess

Life is a mess.

Lately I’ve been realizing how little anyone REALLY knows what they’re doing in life. We all just kind of bumble around, doing our best, but never really knowing what’s going on. Sure, we like to think that we know what we’re doing, and even more so we like for other people to think we know what we’re doing.

But we have




What’s going on.

And beware of anyone who says they do.

But I’ve been learning to enjoy it. Typically I like things to be in some sort of order (despite what my parents will point out about the state of my room at home). I like to know what’s going on when, how I’m getting there, who I’m going with, etc and so forth. Life is rarely so cut and dried though, especially right now. As much as I’d like to know what’s going to happen in the future, and even be clued in as to what’s really going on right now, I do not and will not have that information.

There’s a terrifying beauty in it though. As Jack’s Mannequin sings, “We are just these people happy, tangled lives…We are just these people, such tragic little things.” If we let ourselves enjoy it, there’s enjoyment to be found in the mess. If no one knows what they’re doing, (and I fully maintain we don’t, some people are just better at acting like they know what’s going on) then why should we care if someone says, “You’re doing that wrong.”

Yup, we very well might be. But that’s part of being human. We mess up, fall on our faces, slam our fingers in doors…and move on. There is nothing neat about living, so we might as well learn to embrace it. Recognize that no one else really knows what’s going on either, laugh at the absurdity of it…and keep on truckin’.

Til next time…