the one where i say "hell" maybe too many times

about a month ago i wrote a question that was featured on my friend hilary's blog. she writes posts in a life (un)masked series in a question-answer format. i asked her if i could send a question and she happily accepted. this was my question:

Dear Hilary,

I write because I’m scared. I’m scared of the coming and leaving, the hellos and goodbyes, the falling in love with people and places and experiences and then having to put it all away, like they’re only memories and nothing more. I’m scared of the “next steps” - the new relationships and the new places I’m about to embark upon as I graduate because I know I’m going to going to fall in love and get my heart broken. I already have — haven’t we all? So I’m asking if it’s worth it to give ourselves completely to the people and the places and the relationships, knowing we’re going to weep and be heartbroken? Is it worth it to invest myself in the things that I do, even though I know I’ll be disappointed and hurt? I guess the question really is... is it worth it to live fully?

Sincerely,
Scared


please read her response here. she wrote to me about "living the hell out of life" -- that we have such a short time to love and that we can't run away from the fear, but must embrace it and live the hell out of it. 


a few days later i was sitting in my car waiting for the train inbound to boston with the rain pitter-pattering on the roof and i needed to write words in response. here they are:

Dear Hilary,

Sometimes I think writing is a better way to express than talking. Sometimes words in my voice don’t convey the meaning I want them to.

So: live the hell out of life.

Yes.

I interact often with senior citizens and I love it. I realize something when I hang out with them: they didn’t regret loving people, places or things. They look at me with joy when I tell them I go to school and work and run and bake and hike with my family. They have people visit them who were apart of their story, part of the loving and losing and living. And when my elderly friend turned 101 a year ago and we sang "happy birthday" to him, I had tears in my eyes because 101 is a lot of years, memories, loving, learning, falling, jumping, mourning, celebrating — it’s 101 years of life. And there’s no doubt in my mind that he doesn’t regret loving his wife of 70-something years or loving the place he calls home. And maybe that meant grief over an illness his wife suffered or struggling to build community in a place that is your home but at the same time leaves you feeling like an outcast. I never asked him, but I think he would tell me to live the hell out of life: that it’s worth it no matter how many candles are on your birthday cake. It’s worth it because God didn’t put us on earth to be protected or to run away.
I’m still trying to figure out why he did put me on earth. And while I’m uncertain, I am confident he didn’t do it to scare me.

So let’s live the hell out of life...and help show each other how to do that.

Love, 

Scared (aka Alyssa) 

C.S. Lewis writes in The Four Loves that "to love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one...

We shall draw nearer to God, not by trying to avoid the sufferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to Him; throwing away all defensive armour" (121-2).

Aren't those good words?? And as scared as i am about the vulnerability, i'm convinced that love rocks any reason to hold back. 


so...live the hell out of life? let's do it.