Highlights from: The List of Things That Will Not Change by Rebecca Stead

Pg 74 – Miriam says that, a lot of the time, behind the feeling “I hate this” are other feelings. Like maybe, “I’m afraid of this” is hiding behind “I hate this.” And maybe hiding behind “I’m afraid of this” is “I don’t know what’ going to happen next” or “I don’t know if I can do this.” There are lots of feelings behind feelings.

Pg 114 – She said, “It might be scary to think your mom has been crying.” “But then i would be scared. Not mad.” She waited. I waited. Then she said, “Remember how sometimes one feeling is behind another feeling?” I shrugged. She waited. “So angry is behind afraid?” I said. “Or maybe angry is in front of afraid. The angry kind of takes over.”

Pg 153 – I almost told her about my bedroom windows at Mom’s, about “utta moon,” and how sometimes my life feels like room with two windows and two moons. The I did tell her, even though I knew she might think it was weird. Happiness makes me feel brave. “Two moons,” she said. “ That’s cool. It’s almost like-“ She stopped. “Like what?” “Don’t laugh, but it kind of sounds like a secret power. The girls who can see two moons.”

P 183 – Miriam says that sometimes, when we don’t want to “look hard at our behavior,” we look hard at everything else instead.

P 191 – Miriam said, “There are times when it’s right to be angry, Bea. And there are times when we use anger as a kind of protection from feeling hurt. It’s a way of covering up.”

P 209 – “Because of the people. The other trip leaders, and the campers who came with us. They were always changing. If you think about it, Bea, life is like a trip. A very long one. And what matters most it’s he people you travel with.”

Voice

Somewhere, some when my voice became stuck.  A failure to launch.  It rests between never and hardly.  Inside my mind, rarely set free.  Saying things no one should hear.  Sounds that echo and reverberate inside my skull.  Words that escape are hollow, cracked, languid often stunted by tears.

I say this in wonder if my voice were set free, finding open, external sound, if the noise in my head would calm down?  I am aware.  The happy, helpful tricks all there.  The hinderance crossing that bridge leave me unable to answer the guard’s riddle.  The critic doubts.  The worrier burrows. On this side wrapped in fear, anger, sadness. The disgust plants, wondering if the voice of joy is… there.

The thought of my voice makes me feel small.

a moment to handle

mind wanders past this moment

held clear

anything more 

beyond able

to handle

things mean more

mean nothing

a moment of growth

held dear

held near

better alone 

home 

no thinking of …

is 

or 

isn’t here

stop the tears 

before finding air

getting use to 

trying

not thinking 

getting use to 

holding 

moments

held clear

can’t think 

the world is big 

time is not

can we do this 

without

… near