You Can’t Catch Me!

“You can’t catch me, you can’t catch me!”

I’m chasing her. She wanted to play. She’s laughing and giggling and I can’t help but smile. We’re running around my grandparents’ backyard, racing through the green grass and around the tall trees. She’s so happy, my little cousin, and her happiness fills the air and lifts my spirit. My own cold grown up “problems” melt away when exposed to the warmth of her beautiful simplicity. She’s not thinking about the past or the future. She’s four years old. There’s nothing on her mind but the moment. She’s lost in the chase.

“I’m gonna catch you Sophia, I’m gonna catch you!”

I imagine that God wants to chase me. He wants to play. I can feel him chasing me on road trips, as I roll down the highway and take in miles of sky and greenery. His spirit sprints after me in every note of music that pierces my soul. Through hugs and smiles, silence and laughter, sunrise and sunset; he is chasing me. Even in my heartbreak, I can just faintly feel his footsteps following right behind me. As my heart falls to pieces I can hear him say, “I’m gonna catch you!”

“Come on Andrew, let’s play!”

I want to be chased by God. I want to play. In order to be chased, I have to run. I have to decide that it’s time to move forward. Maybe then I can stop spending so much time trying to change the past and control the future. Maybe I can remember what it’s like to be four years old, lost in the chase. I say Sophia is simple, but maybe I’m just making things too complicated. So here I am God. I want to play. And even though I know you can, I’ll shout,

“You can’t catch me!”

Love Is Blind

Last night I was roaming Austin by my lonesome whilst waiting for a friends show to finish (I had seen it the night before) and this couple was headed towards me. I’m trying to be polite and figure out which side of the sidewalk to move to but their path is zig-zagging back and forth across the concrete like some sort of drunken waltz. As they got closer I realized they were both blind, and holding walking canes. They were laughing so hard, holding each other tightly with their free hands. I could feel the happiness radiating from them like warmth from a fire on a cold day. And as they walked past me I was suddenly filled with happiness myself, because all I could think of was, “love is blind.”

I know that phrase typically carries a negative connotation, but after seeing the two of them it made me smile. I think there are moments in the midst of loving someone where you can’t see anything else, and you don’t really need to. Moments where it’s okay to be blind to the world around you, even blind to the appearance of your lover. Because the time has long since passed that their physical form was all that drew you in. Now their presence is what holds and warms your heart. The way they laugh, the rhythm of their breath, the scent of their skin. All those small things that can’t be seen. And as if the bliss of your own blindness wasn’t enough, there are moments where both of you go blind. Blind to each others short comings, blind to the mistakes of the past, blind to meaningless imperfections. And you get the chance to hold on to each other and walk a drunken waltz across the sidewalk. What a beautiful thing, to be in love, and have those moments of blindness. How beautiful to walk through seasons of life blindly, laughing at something no one else can see. Because there’s nothing to see. Only something to feel.


spider_9d4fe78e4cI resist the urge to pour my hot coffee all over the spider. With my luck the caffeine would energize it into some frenzied arachnid terror that would undoubtedly kill me within seconds. I stare at it for a while with the simultaneous feelings of disgust and fascination that accompany such things.

This spider lives Continue reading

Run, Andrew, Run!

I run a lot.

Not so much out of athleticism as out of necessity. When I am upset or frustrated or confused, I put on some shorts and take off. Lately, I’ve come to realize that running is my own personal form of escapism. Some people do drugs or binge watch netflix to escape. I lace up my Nike’s and hit the dirt.

20140529-123351-45231116.jpgWhen I’m running, I can shut out the world. I put my headphones in and the music that flows through them is not important so long as it’s LOUD. I’m the type of person who gets stuck Continue reading

I’m Afraid Of Writing

I’m afraid of writing. And by “I’m afraid of writing,” I mean that I’m afraid of being alone.

I have an unhealthy fear of loneliness. It’s not so much people not liking me that scares me (although I’m not immune to that fear). More often, I find myself afraid of being by myself. This is no good for someone who wants to be a writer. Writing, for most people, and most certainly for me, is a task that most often must be undertaken alone. If I want to write, my company usually comes in the form of a park bench, or a desk, or the quiet solitude of a library. Or perhaps a cat. None of these things are people. I must sit down with myself until Continue reading

All The World’s Not A Stage

A couple of weekends ago some friends and I drove over to Dallas to go to a concert. On the drive over, rather then get an early start on my homework, I used the time to philosophize as I stared out the window,  drifting in and out of conversation and soaking in the Texas scenery as it flowed by. This is a process most commonly known as  procrastination.

While I was procrastinating  philosophizing, I started thinking about my major (theatre) and about Shakespeare’s famous words from the melancholy Jacques’ monologue in As You Like It: Continue reading