the ordinary instant

2012-01-31T19:35:00.003-05:00

today it felt a little bit like spring. in the midst of cold and gray. in the midst of january. somehow the sun was shining and I was able to go outside for a quick walk to the bank in only one layer instead of three! and as I was walking back to the office I let myself stop. just for a second. I wanted to feel the sun on my face. I wanted to soak in the uv rays and stand for just a minute before the cold returns and settles back in until march. and let me tell you, those few seconds were just what the doctor ordered.

and what does any self-respecting lover of spring do when it's just about to be february and she knows the clouds and the chill are right around the corner? she goes out and buys herself some tulips. bright yellow ones. when all else fails and the frost is about to take over. because the winter blahs are no match for the bright yellow tulip. and when they open just in time to fight the cold that returns to my bones - that will be just what the doctor ordered too.

remnants of home.

2012-01-30T22:44:00.005-05:00

finally finally! I have framed and hung those lovely photos from that lovely lady!

she is the one who inspires me to take photos when I feel silly. and write moments down as they are happening (usually in list form). she inspires me to change my perspective. and notice the details. she inspires me to be thankful for every single moment of every single day. and she was the one who first inspired me to blog. you will see shadows of her influence all over this little site. because her ideas are ones that sneak in the back door and wedge themselves in my head until I just have to try them out for myself.

and now those photos get to inspire me everyday as I walk past them and out my front door.

just in case you want to be inspired too, here's her little shop on etsy. and who doesn't want to be inspired after all?

washed out.

2012-01-29T12:03:00.002-05:00

this one spawned an impromptu living room dance party. and friends, if there's one thing I love it's a good impromptu dance party.

son lux.

2012-01-28T20:07:00.007-05:00

wordless weekends are not so much about wordless music anymore. lately, its just about music that catches me off guard and has me playing it on repeat for days and days. music that slips in quietly behind the scenes and completely makes my day.

like this guy. who created this album in 28 days. start to finish. 28 days. are you kidding me?

currently loving.

2012-01-27T21:19:00.007-05:00

this list is wholly inspired by that great friend that I get so many good ideas from. in the midst of a million things going on in my head and a thousand decisions to be made there have also been so many little things that have made me recognize all that is true and good and beautiful.

in no particular order, all the things I am currently loving in january.

1. polaroid blue skies. they don't come around too often these days.

2. the work and ideas of kinfolk.

3. tulips. especially in the midst of cold that bites through your skin and settles in your bones.

4. that canon ae-1. I think I am in love.

5. nablopomo.

6. the poetry of czeslaw milosz.

7. blank canvas experiments.

8. planning an italian adventure.

9. keeping the christmas playlist around for just a bit longer.

10. fixing the record player. finally.

11. photographing things. or not photographing things.

12. degas dancers at the phillips collection.

13. rediscovering what I am passionate about.

14. instagram.

15. laughing when things are so out of control it's ridiculous.

16. getting to know great street art. like hense.

17. les misérables. well now I am loving that I finally finished it. totally worth the time people. totally.

18. strong black tea and vanilla soy milk.

19. music from m83. and I break horses. and gotye. and definitely bon iver. always bon iver.

in the bag.

2012-01-26T22:39:00.009-05:00

when I was 6 the contents of my tiny disney princess purse were all the things a little girl thinking she is an adult needs. my little pony wallet. dr. pepper bonne bell. and on sundays, the precious moments bible.

now I am 24 and the bag is bigger. quite a bit bigger. now I live in a place where I spend well over an hour on public transportation everyday. and I am always moving from one thing to the next. and that one bag carries around all the elements of my everyday, ordinary life. sometimes I wish I still had that disney princess purse though.

things in my bag on any given day:

bible - I'll admit, the precious moments one had better pictures.

a diary of private prayer - the way he prays is absolutely magnificent. a game-changer, really.

book of the week - granted, I've been reading Les Mis for quite a few.

camera - because I really like to take pictures. and I'm still working on that pesky courage thing.

notebook - because one must always be ready when the urge to play "harriet the spy" strikes.

metro card - that thing is like gold. gold, I tell you.

ipod - how else am I going to drown out the deafening silence of my commute?

planner - yes, I know there is also one on my phone. but I just really love writing things down.

cherry chapsitck - the grown-up equivalent to bonne bell. although not as cool as dr. pepper flavor.

phone - we all say it's for emergencies, but let's be honest, it's for everything else too.

wallet - it has a lot more stuff than the my little pony wallet. but not much more money.

keys - because I occasionally need to get somewhere.

various writing utensils - always more than one. always a multitude colors. please do not ask me why.

gloves - fingerless is important. because I have lots of things with pages that need to be turned.

what's in your bag?

phrases I overuse.

2012-01-25T23:24:00.006-05:00

someday I'll figure out why I say the things I say. I'll trace back all these little phrases to their origin. the best friend. the kids at youth group. the episode of friends. I know they all came from someone. because sometimes I just really like the way certain words sound together. and so I say them in succession over and over. and over. someday I'll figure out just why that is.

but right now it is late and I am tired and I have approximately 27 minutes to post or this whole nablopomo thing will be bust. and so the list is short tonight. the list of phrases I overuse.

1. here's the thing.

2. I think I might die. (sometimes I exaggerate. just sometimes.)

3. are you kidding me?

4. in my mind...

5. hey friend!

6. so good!

7. that's amazing!

8. let's be real.

9. oh no. (just like phoebe says it.)

10. that's great.

11. for the most part.

12. may or may not...

13. my favorite thing ever. (see #2)

14. well, there's that.

photos I did not take.

2012-01-24T22:20:00.001-05:00

I am not yet very brave when it comes to taking pictures throughout my day. I'm working on it but I have not mastered the art of boldly snapping away in the midst of strangers and the great unknown. but I still see all of it. and thanks to this genius of a blog, I remember to remember it. to catalog it in my mind and recount it with words.

a few photos I did not take today.

1. people running - always running - to catch the train. bursting through the ticket gates. bounding up the escalator. only to see that the train that is arriving is, in fact, going in the opposite direction.

2. sleeping. vacant stares. daily newspapers masking a tired face. waking up takes a while I suppose.

3. a homeless man alone in the courtyard with the fountain that has dried up in the winter cold. sitting on a tattered and filthy green throw pillow. throwing pieces of bread for the pigeons that are not there. he has such a large supply, breaking off piece after piece and throwing them in and around the fountain. the birds still don't appear.

4. the big red open-top dc tour bus. faithfully arriving at the same time twice every hour. with not a single thing on that top row of seats. except plastic seat covers flapping in the wind.

5. the "regulars." people who have become friends just by virtue of time and place. the daily newspaper man who tries to hand me a morning examiner every morning without fail although I have yet to accept one. the homeless man who is always in the same place and always smiles at me in a fatherly sort of way while telling me to "keep warm out there" or "remember to smile." the morning security officer who faithfully confuses my name with someone else's and continues talking to me even as the elevator doors are closing. the bank teller behind her glass. the train station manager in his booth. I like that we have created a sort of friendship through these shared bits of life.

6. rushing and rushing and rushing. to wait and wait and wait. to order lunch. for the metro. at the grocery store. rushing and waiting. always the same.

7. budget spreadsheet after budget spreadsheet. my mind slowly turning into mush. I'm actually okay without a picture documenting this.

8. an awkward side hug and glances out of the corner of the eye. it seems as though someone paired a first date with a lunch date. on a tuesday. this seems ill-planned to me.

9. lovely friends gathered around wine and cheese and chocolate covered raisins. gleefully watching quite a silly show. we mostly groan and mock but secretly love all the grand romantic gestures. the foundation of genuine community around something so ridiculous astounds and delights me.

10. teenagers walking by the house on their way from cvs. two boys and one girl in the middle. carrying mountain dew and joking about something I cannot hear. isn't this supposed to be a school night? and who even drinks mountain dew anymore? these questions lead to an even bigger one - when did I get so old?

films I could watch again and again.

2012-01-23T22:55:00.017-05:00

tonight I saw a movie that did not live up to the hype my mind had originally hyped. I blame myself, really. I should have had a bit more grace. but it did remind me how rare really good films are. so while this certain movie shall remain nameless, I will go ahead and name some of the ones that are worth it. in no particular order, a dozen films (there could be dozens and dozens) that I could watch over and over forever and ever. go ahead and have yourself a mini-movie-marathon. or just watch the trailers/clips below.

1. amelie.

2. almost famous.

3. lars and the real girl.

4. everything is illuminated. favorite book. phenomenal film.

5. juno.

6. man on wire.

7. the fall.

8. in america.

9. the royal tenenbaums. (such a close tie with the darjeeling limited.)

10. away we go.

11. good will hunting.

12. mr. magorium's wonder emporium.

what are some of your favorites?

bon iver. again.

2012-01-22T22:50:00.009-05:00

hello iceland. you are beautiful.

I know he is all the rage right now. and that you've probably gotten sick of hearing about him from me in one way or another. or another. but he is the one I always come back to when I don't know where else to go. when I need to be reminded of lots of things about myself. reminded to embrace uncertainty. and vulnerability. and even sometimes melancholy. and in this cold, dreary weather, he reminds me of summer concerts with beautiful friends. concerts that made me just really happy to be alive. I know that sounds a bit extreme. after all, he just makes silly music. but I'm not even exaggerating. I promise. silly music like this feeds my soul and makes me happy to be alive. plus, how cute is that kid?

in other news, come back tomorrow for the week of lists. oh, how I love a good list.

gabriel yared.

2012-01-21T23:03:00.005-05:00

this wordless weekend I am loving mademoiselle paloma. and a film that was so beautifully made it could have been wordless and I would have loved it just as much. but oh those words. I really loved them too. especially when printed in that book that consumed me in its delightfully slow burn. and gave me a whole new way of looking at the world. and friends, you know how much I love a new perspective. please go read the elegance of the hedgehog. and then watch the hedgehog. and then tell me what you think.

perspective.

2012-01-20T22:20:00.004-05:00

working until 9pm on a friday night is the worst. then again. so is losing one of your gloves on a night when it is about 20 degrees. and there is a strong chance of freezing rain tomorrow.

non può tornare indietro ora.

2012-01-19T22:25:00.003-05:00

the first purchase has been made. an apartment in florence for eight nights. that's right. eight. whole. nights. I don't even think I can wait.

I miss the sun today.

2012-01-18T19:27:00.005-05:00

a photo for a day that is blustery and cold and biting. a photo for a day when I feel like I'm getting sick and want to crawl back into bed and stay there until the cherry blossoms bloom. come back, nice weather. I am not fond of this cold day.

thoughts from :: sunday night.

2012-01-17T20:53:00.008-05:00

okay people, it's about to get real. sentences have been forming in my head for days. erratic thoughts have lodged themselves somewhere and the only way to get them out is to write them down. and I have written them down. in every place but this terribly public one. but I started this thing to write more honestly and share more honestly. I started it to prove to myself that I could be real in someplace other than the most hidden part of my heart. so here it is. mom, don't freak out.

growing up is hard. growing up when your family is falling apart is hard. growing up when you feel really freaking alone is hard. God is good. but life is hard. being broken and longing for Home in the capital H sense is hard. when I put #19 on the list I wanted to understand what it's like to rejoice - truly live a worshipful life - in the midst of all that is hard. I wanted to understand how joy could remain when happiness faltered. I wanted to understand how God is faithful when everything and everyone else is not. although it was a goal for 25, I sort of thought it would take a long time. I sort of thought I would end the year with the words "work in progress" beside it. and yet here I am.

and I never expected it to happen quite like this. for it to take marriages ending and lives ending and things to change so quickly. I never expected everything to get so turned inside out and upside down all at once. and yet here I am.

here I am driving home with tears overflowing to the point that I wonder if I am a danger to my fellow evening travelers. and here I am feeling like the jigsaw puzzles I used to put together when I was young. everything seemed so pretty and neat and together until my little brother came over and threw everything asunder with his chubby toddler hands. but it's not his fault this time. it's no one's fault this time. I am a mess and I am in a million tiny pieces.

but here's the crazy thing. the sort of amazing thing.

I may, in fact, be having a complete and utter emotional breakdown. but I am not actually feeling as melodramatically despondent as it may sound. my heart aches, yes. I am completely broken, yes. but more than that - so much more than that - I am whole. or rather, I am hopeful that I will be soon be whole. I am not happy but I am joyful. and in lots of ways that doesn't make sense, but in one really big way, it makes perfect sense.

because I am learning that the joy of the Lord is a gosh-darn real thing. it's not about happiness and fun and laughter all the time. I was never promised that life. but I was promised that when I walk through fire I will not be alone. the fire's there for sure. but I have someone bringing me through it. bringing me through it in one piece. better, even.

and I am learning that if I can praise God in the midst of the innumerable blessings I experience every single minute, I better be able to praise him in the crappy times too. and what's even crazier is that I cannot believe how happy I am in this realization. how blessed am I that I have been counted worthy enough to praise him in the midst of my brokenness?

and I am learning that it's not about seeing the world through rose-colored glasses - although I would never say no to a pair of those. it's about seeing the world as it is and still knowing that it will be better. seeing the world as it really is and knowing that it will be otherwise. and it's only because of that persistent joy of the Lord that has been sticking on me like honey lately. it's only because of that faith as tiny as a pin-prick that things begin change and perspective shifts from illusion to reality. because it's not about how much faith I have. it's about who I have faith in. thank goodness for that. because most of the time my faith is way smaller than a mustard seed.

and here's one other thing about the joy of the Lord. it's there because I am also learning how to pray without ceasing. and when I say without ceasing, I mean without ceasing. I am praying even when I don't know I'm praying. because here's the thing: what other choice do I have? nothing else works. not talking about it until I'm blue in the face. not ignoring it. nothing else. not one thing.

and so now I am home with tears still coming. but they are full of a million tiny pieces of me mixed with loads of hope. and loads of grace I don't deserve. and I made it home without seriously injuring anyone. so there is joy in that too, I suppose.

olafur arnalds.

2012-01-16T23:26:00.005-05:00

one more beautiful song for wordless weekend while I am trying to order all my thoughts.

one more night to wonder if I can really say all that I want to say.

but he makes a lot of things seem more possible than I think they are.

the xx.

2012-01-15T16:09:00.000-05:00

the rest of wordless weekend. so many words on the way. honest words. necessary words.

birdy.

2012-01-14T18:02:00.002-05:00

every few months I come back to this and can't stop listening.

missing home tonight.

2012-01-13T23:53:00.005-05:00

"I never realize how much I like being home unless I've been somewhere really different for a while."

2012-01-12T22:52:00.007-05:00

sometimes I wonder why it is that I like to surround myself with old things. I know the word "vintage" is so trendy and hip right now. but let me be the first to tell you, friends. from the moment the eight-year-old me put on that pair of green floral overalls and left the right strap unhooked. I am many things but trendy and hip are two things I am not.

and yet. I find myself seeking out things that are "vintage." things that have been loved by someone else and now are loved by me. from cameras to record players to typewriters and furniture. I love it when something was not mine first. when I know it traveled through all this time to finally land in my hands.

maybe it is the storyteller in me. the one who finds comfort in history and legacy and tradition. the one who is amazed by the idea that something had this whole life before finding me. to know that a camera once took pictures of birthdays and vacations and everyday moments of life. that it captured the ordinary instant for someone then like it does for me now. to know that a typewriter wrote letters to people who were loved. people who were dealing with life like I am dealing with life. to know that a record player has a million little imperfections but is consistent. consistent in its scratchy simple playing of songs I could hear on iTunes with perfect clarity. because sometimes I like not having all that clarity. sometimes I like when things are flawed and raw. that sounds just like real life to me.

so bring on the trendy hipster record shops. the "vintage" thrift stores. bring on the history. bring on the stories.

czeslaw milosz

2012-01-11T23:31:00.005-05:00

love means to learn to look at yourself
the way one looks at distant things,
for you are only one thing among many.
and whoever sees that way heals his heart,
without knowing it, from various ills -
a bird and a tree say to him: friend.

then he wants to use himself and things
so that they stand in the glow of ripeness.
it doesn't matter whether he knows what he serves:
who serves best does not always understand.

I could write pages and pages about how this changes the way I think about love. the way I think about the world. the way I think about myself. but for now, I'll just read it over and over again. and hope that you will too. and hope that you will tell me how it changes the way you think.

2012-01-10T22:37:00.007-05:00

today I came home to a care package of sorts from a lovely friend. some earrings I will most definitely be wearing to work tomorrow. because they will match everything. I tell you, that girl knows me. I love that.

there was also a card with sweet words on the outside and even sweeter words (her own) on the inside.

when the world says "give up" hope whispers "hold on just a little longer."

she told me that when she saw it she instantly thought it was me. I was kind of shocked by that. because a lot of the time I am a glass-half-empty type of girl. a lot of the time I am prone to melodramatic despair.

but lately. in one of the most difficult seasons of my life. hope has somehow become natural. I find myself finding joy in the midst of my sadness and humor in the midst of my confusion. I find myself still seeing the glass as half-empty but knowing, without a doubt, that it will get filled up eventually. one day it will be overflowing.

so thanks lovely friend. for the rockin' jewelry. and especially for the kind words. and really thanks to lots of lovely friends. you may not have given me jewelery but your kind words have not gone unnoticed. your words from a million different mediums and a thousand different places have been nestled in my melodramatic heart and are more important than I can even say. they are the hope that keeps me holding on just a little longer. you are the hope that keeps me holding on just a little longer.

a wordless weekend indeed.

2012-01-09T21:19:00.014-05:00

never before have I lived in a place like this. where power lunches actually mean something and my local news is your national news and - you know - decisions that affect the whole world get made.

never before have I experienced life like this. where I am consistently overwhelmed with people to meet and decisions to make and what seems like miniscule moments of time to manage between a million different things.

and yet here I am. the actions of growing up I suppose.

and sometimes I forget that in the midst of all this, I also live in a place with some of the most amazing pieces of beauty in the world. I forget that when I am overwhelmed with all the decisions I have to make, I can actually choose, just for one day, not to make them. I can choose, instead, to visit a special exhibition on edgar degas and his ballet dancers. I can choose to wander among paintings by van gogh and renoir and rothko. and I can choose to spend $25 and an afternoon shooting two rolls of film on a silly little camera. I can choose to let myself be an introvert for a few hours.

and that's what I did with my truly wordless weekend. I walked. I listened to pretty music. and I took some pictures. and it was just what I needed.

listened to:

gymnopedie no.1

and a nursery rhyme for another summer

and winter beats

saw:

I break horses.

2012-01-08T21:07:00.004-05:00

song from a truly wordless (and needed) weekend. scans and words on the way.

wendell berry.

2012-01-07T20:29:00.001-05:00

if we represent knowledge as a tree, we know that things that are divided are yet connected. we know that to observe the divisions and ignore the connections is to destroy the tree.

2012-01-06T21:02:00.007-05:00

wordless weekend is starting early. because I still can't shake this mood. and because I don't really feel like I have a lot of words left in me right now. and because take away shows really are the best. especially when they are with two of my favorite people for melancholy moods. because they remind me that to be melancholy is okay. to be quiet is okay. to be a bit unsettled is okay. it can be a good thing. it can be beautiful.

2012-01-05T22:03:00.000-05:00

today was a weird day. bad mood I just could not shake. inadequacies surfacing and trying to consume me like wildfire. loneliness following me around. feeling overwhelmed by all the decisions I am avoiding. uninspired. melancholy. uncertain.

thank goodness tomorrow is a new day. thank goodness every new day means a new start. thank goodness for that.

(one thing that helped a bit.)

lessons from life in a snow globe.

2012-01-04T21:24:00.020-05:00

going home for christmas this year was different for a million reasons. not least of which was the complete absence of snow unless you count what they are making up there at the ski resorts. which I don't. global warming aside, this year was the first time I went home really feeling like an adult instead of a child returning home just a bit taller. and it got me thinking about all the unique ways in which I got to grow up. and it made the past shine in new ways. because like most things that are good in quiet, unassuming ways, I totally took it all for granted.

1. how to build an epic snowman. it's all about the accessories. obviously.

2. how to exploit nature. yes, I was the girl who sold you a pine cone for $5. yes, I could negotiate up to $20 for a sugar pine. yes, you were the dumb tourist who agreed to all of this.

3. how to shovel a car out of snow. my dad thought this would be a good lesson for me to learn. he thought it would make me appreciate life more. it did not.

4. how to drive a boat before learning how to drive a car. also, who even gets to learn how to windsurf these days? regular surfing is so overrated in my opinion.

5. how to stack firewood. every summer, my dad would come home with loads upon loads of huge rounds of timber. and every fall, he would create a "family fun day" where we would all get together in a dysfunctional sort of assembly line and cut and stack said wood for our winter use. I don't know if I would call it "fun" but I did learn my way around a giant wood splitter and my spatial abilities when it comes to stacking hundreds of logs are unmatched. these skills have come in handy all the time in my life as a lumberjack. oh wait...

6. how to wear a halloween costume over a snowsuit. or how to wear a snowsuit as a halloween costume. (see bunny ears channeling my good friend, ralphie.)

7. how to get hopelessly lost in the wilderness and not worry about it. my unbeatable lack of navigation proved itself at a young age when I would be playing in the forest that was my backyard and suddenly find myself completely lost. after the third time I stopped even worrying about it. I knew I would find my way back somehow. or mom would send the police to find me.

8. how to apply snow chains. yes, I learned on a four-wheeler.

9. how to drive on ice and in snowstorms. I became so talented that I would often drive to school in a complete blizzard unfazed. while applying makeup. skills. and complete stupidity.

10. how to "keep tahoe blue!" and "don't feed the bears!" the two favorite town taglines taught me the importance of water clarity. and the fact that if you leave food open in your car you may have a bear living inside it by the morning.

11. how to appreciate nature. terrifically cliche to say, I know. but let's face it. how can you live in a town surrounded by snow covered mountains, with north america's second largest fresh-water lake right in the middle and not understand, at least a little bit, the vast intricacy and phenomenal beauty of the natural world?

is this cheating?

2012-01-03T20:50:00.017-05:00

how is it that a girl who owns five (now six if you scroll to the bottom of this post) cameras has actually fallen in love with the one on her phone and a little instagram app? quite concerning, really.

nevertheless. here's what happened in december.

christmas party bonfires.

dance party after-parties with my favorites. (see the one who writes such wonderful words.)

joyful reunions over wine and good stories. (see the international traveler and the brilliant foodie.)

morning walks to the office. again and again.

home. sweet home.

apple hill and sweet memories of apple picking and tree climbing.

evening walks in dc.

and the one that will change everything. (scans on the way, people. on the way.)

2012-01-02T12:19:00.008-05:00

it's a strange and satisfying feeling to suddenly realize that you are comfortable being yourself. I spent years and years worrying about how people were thinking of me. years of keeping my mouth shut for fear of saying something wrong. years of trying to shave off parts of myself so I would fit in and not be as awkward as I really am. so my brokenness and messiness would not be so painfully obvious.

and then I spent more years and years unlearning that. fighting against comparisons and perceived inadequacies and forcing myself to be...myself. but you see the irony in that, right? I mean for one thing, it sort of defeats the purpose when I am still trying so hard to be someone. plus, how can I make myself be who I am when I don't even know who that is?

then, all of a sudden. I was sitting there, talking to someone at a party and it hit me. I was actually saying what I was thinking. I was actually doing what I wanted to do instead of what I thought other people wanted me to do. and when I did something terrifically awkward (which, let's be honest, I am prone to do quite often) I was okay with it. I was being myself. and it was actually kind of easy.

it turns our that being true to who I am is not the hard part. the hard part is figuring out who that is. now that I am finally discovering and embracing that, the "being myself" part comes kind of naturally. I sort of wish I had figured this out sooner.

beginnings.

2012-01-01T02:09:00.011-05:00

just because it's the new year. and just because we want to kick off january nablopomo right. a short list of things to begin in this most auspicious and wonderful year. please note that these are NOT new years resolutions. I will not succumb to those...

1. get that record player working. if I can't listen to bon iver on vinyl soon I might explode.

2. load up the new (old) canon.

3. chalk it up. share some secrets. reveal the details.

4. get my butt to another country.

5. write. write. write.

our winter skin.

2011-12-07T00:02:00.002-05:00

number five on the list and friends, I am excited about this one. I have have finally created my winter mixtape and have been listening to it nonstop since thanksgiving. and in this season of giving I thought I would share it with you too. you can download it here. a zip file will automatically download. just unzip, drop in itunes and listen away (tip: arrange by album).

enjoy!

cover art from the library of congress.

music from: sufjan stevens. joni mitchell. jars of clay. nat king cole. bing crosby.
the civil wars. beta radio. tom petty and the heartbreakers. branches.
the beach boys. feist. coldplay. the decemberists.
and one very special bonus track!

instants.

2011-12-05T22:26:00.000-05:00

I started a new project. inspired by this. and in my need to notice more of the everyday. and maybe to get a better vantage point.

traditions of gratitude.

2011-11-24T00:32:00.021-05:00

its officially thanksgiving and I am sitting in the dark in the bathroom in a house in tennessee. nashville to be exact. the furthest south I have ever traveled and full of that wonderful southern accent I have come to love. that accent so charming in a quirky sort of way. that accent I have been trying to perfect all day by drawing out my vowels and drawling in a way I never thought I would be able to do. it's a beautiful thing.

this year marks the third spent away from my family and with one that has adopted me for the holiday. and although it feels unnatural and a bit unsatisfying to be away from my own, it is always such a lovely surprise to be apart of a family on a day like today. one in which happiness of being with one another abounds and food and conversation rule all. it is fun to be a little piece of furniture observing the comings and goings of a family on a day of such high honor. tonight - the day before the big day - was a night of giving thanks in a simple yet significant tradition of gratitude. we sat around the room, sharing couches and overstuffed chairs. legs intertwined. feet touching feet. heads on shoulders. soft light settling around us. and we just talked about what we were thankful for in the past year. for community and health and new life. for help with family projects that seem to be lasting forever but will end with new family traditions and space. for learning how to choose love and positivity and joy. for learning how to let go of expectations. we talked over one another and into one another and with graciousness and love.

and now, maria is asleep in the room we share - hence the dark, cold linoleum floor and my futile attempts to press these keys just a bit softer. I have to wake up in a few hours and would love to get some sleep before overdosing on tryptophan and extroversion tomorrow. but of course, despite all my best efforts, my mind will not settle. I find myself thinking about gratitude and wondering what the next year will bring for me to be thankful for. to find joy in. to find humility in. because when it comes down to it, thankfulness is the best antidote to pride. it reminds me that I am blessed. and it reminds me that I did nothing to earn it.

so here I am, back in my own little tradition of gratitude. of painting a thank-you on my palm.

(context here and here).

pinkie: I am thankful for seasons. this year has been one of distinct seasons. not just as they are marked by the changing of fall leaves or blooming of cherry blossoms. but as they are marked by the placement of people in and out of my life. by the lessons learned and relearned and the moments shared and forgotten and remembered again and again. this year, I have learned how to fully rejoice in the seasons of delight. of true fullness of joy. and in the same way, I have learned how to be content in the seasons of waiting. of uncertainty. of grief. change will always come. few things will remain the same forever. and that is scary. but also kind of great.

ring: I am thankful for laughter. I know. this is sort of a no-brainer. but think about it. how often do you take laughter for granted? I do it all the time, friends. because laughter is so easy. but it's also essential. necessary almost like breathing is necessary. this year has been one for the books when it comes to things for me to be sad and anxious and frustrated about. but laughter reminds me that in the midst of it all, there is so much to find joy in. even if for just a moment. even if it's by watching kristen wiig and amy poehler. even if it's because of something completely ridiculous and nonsensical. laughter really is the best medicine. that and extra-strength excedrin.

middle: I am thankful for teenage girls. this year I am spending my thursday nights with seven girls all in their first year of high school. and let me tell you, I was no where near as self-aware and intelligent as they are. it's actually a little depressing to think how far behind in mental development I was when I was their age. but with all their poise and maturity, they are still 14-year old girls. dealing for the first time with (gasp!) crushes on older boys. with (gasp!) homecoming dances and pep rallies. with (gasp!) drama and gossip and everything else that comes with the joy (or despair, depending on who you are) that is high school. and what fun it has been to work through it all with them. to experience with them, all the fears and excitement and giddy anxiety that comes with being young. it is a great way to be gaining perspective on how fun life can be. not to mention the fact that I am getting pretty darn good at pre-dance makeovers.

pointer: I am thankful for joy. again, seems somewhat obvious. who isn't thankful for joy? but this year has been one of learning to find joy in everything. of learning to see the true, unyielding, unfailing joy of the Lord in the midst of every single situation. this year, God has not just revealed his steadfast goodness (a term I was wrestling to even believe just a year ago) to me in obvious ways. he has also been faithful to remind me of this goodness in small ways every day. his goodness shines through in all the details of life around me (hence this blog) and helps me rest in unceasing joy. I may not always be happy. happiness is a feeling dependent on so many things I cannot always control. but the unending joy of the Lord. a joy that is not dependent on emotion but is a gift from One who pours grace over me to the point of overflowing. that is something I am finally beginning to understand.

thumb: I am thankful for words. let me tell you something, friends: words are just the best. the bees-knees if you ask me. the way they somehow string themselves together to form comprehensive statements that convey my message to the world. the way they fill up a blank pice of paper in a lovely, accomplished sort of way. if all I could ever do was process my life within my own mind, I would go crazy. without a doubt. certifiably insane. but words. they save me.

so while I think of it,
let me paint a thank-you on my palm
for this God, this laughter of the morning,
lest it go unspoken.

the joy that isn't shared, I've heard,
dies young.

waiting.

2011-11-07T09:42:00.010-05:00

you can be in no circumstance in which the Lord cannot help you, in which he will not help you, if you look simply to him, rest on him, and wait for him. for every condition in which you may be placed, there is a promise; by that promise, the Lord stands, pledged to appear for you and help you; he is ever ready to deliver you; only he will have you believe his word, exercise confidence in him, plead the promise at his throne, and wait for its fulfillment. wait, then on the Lord at all times. times will change, creatures will vary, but the Lord remains always the same. in your youth and health, in manhood and prosperity, in old age and its infirmities, we should wait on the Lord. he will adapt his mercies to us, make all his goodness pass before us, and cause all things to work together for our good. he will never leave us, change his views of us, or withhold his tender mercies from us. he is faithful to his word, true to his character, and full of love to his people.

whatever change there may be in creatures, there is no change in him. health may give way to sickness, plenty to poverty, strength to weakness, and life to death, but he is the same. with him there is no variableness, neither shadow of a turn. therefore, "wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart; wait, I saw, on the Lord."

- from "wait on the Lord" sermon by rev. james smith of cheltenham, new york, 1869

glaciers.

2011-10-27T11:13:00.015-04:00

friends. here it is. I know you have been waiting forever. I know I have. shared with me by a good friend. directed by her amazing brother. featuring one talented guy. who knew that freezing and thawing a typewriter in a big block of ice could be so...magical?

Listener "Falling in Love with Glaciers" from Nathan Corrona on Vimeo.

thoughts from :: the train.

2011-10-14T23:47:00.004-04:00

it's almost midnight and I am sitting on a train traveling from new york city back to dc. after two weeks of traveling from one coast to the other I am finally heading…home. yes, I just called dc home. it feels sort of weird. anyway. lately, words have come and gone at the strangest times. they have eluded me when I most needed them and then have filled my mind to the point of over-flowing when I most needed to do things like sleep. and so it is now. I would love to sleep. to have this train rock me to sleep as we pass through new york and delaware and maryland. yet words and sentences keep coming to me with such force that it is all I can do to type them out and give them a permanent place to rest. tonight, only writing will do the trick.

in the past 10 days I have traveled from one coast to the other. dc to san francisco to dc to new york with a few stops in between. I have spent more time than I care to count in transit - four airports, two train stations, and one white mustang convertible driving down the california coastline. I have walked through chinatowns in two cities separated by 3000 miles. I have seen the golden gate bridge and the brooklyn bridge within seven days of one another.

in the same way, and with similar velocity and speed, I have traveled from one emotion to the next. the calm of peace and joy before the storm of confusion and grief. extreme cities that have overwhelmed my senses. extreme emotions that have knocked the wind out of me and hit me from all sides all at once. and I am tired. tired in the way that sleep won't fix. I am fighting to keep my head above water but survival mode really is an exhausting way to live. of course, there is always someone to blame. but let's be honest - there is really no one to blame. we are broken people. this is not what we were created for. but this is where we are.

and yet. in the midst of our despair there is always an opportunity to experience something outside of despair. with my heart feeling like stone and my stomach like jelly. there is always hope. there is always the odd moment of beauty that reminds me that I was made for more than this. we were made for more than this. we are broken. but it won't be this way forever. we are grieving. but one day joy will come and it will not leave. by the grace of God. we are a glorious ruins.

and if there's one thing I know about all this, it's that I just have to thank my lucky stars for all of the people who have loved on me like it was their full-time job over the past two weeks. because thanks to them just as there have been lots of tears, there has been a whole lot of laughter too. and while they have encouraged me to face the moments of pain and confusion, they have also made me embrace the moments of silliness and joy. laughter truly is the best medicine. especially when it's because of something ridiculous and nonsensical.

so here's to you, friends. those of you who have sat with me and cried with me and let me use up all your kleenex. who have given me excessively long hugs and let me pick the movie and even have ice cream for dinner. who have let me turn up the heater and made me dinner and baked pumpkin pies so the house smelled delicious. who have helped me notice little bits of beauty that still float all around and pop up out of nowhere like fireflies. who have called and emailed and prayed from thousands of miles away. I may not have called or emailed back, but please know how incredibly thankful I am.

because here's the thing: all of it fed my soul like water. every single word and gesture and hug has lifted me a bit more out of survival mode and a bit closer to healing. even when you didn't know what to do or say, just knowing you are there has made all the difference. that has been more than enough. and I have been completely blown away by how God has shown me his love through you. I am overwhelmed. in the best way.

calm before the storm.

2011-09-27T10:15:00.006-04:00

day off gives new meaning to the phrase "calm before the storm." it's amazing how one day things are going along and you are resting and healing and breathing. and then in an instant, everything changes. nothing is the same and nothing will ever be the same and you feel like you are under water. the ordinary instant indeed.

Remember your word, for you have given me hope. My comfort in my suffering is this - your promise preserves my life. psalm 119:49-50

day off.

2011-09-24T22:41:00.002-04:00

after almost a full year of planning, the big event is complete and I feel equally accomplished and exhausted. months of negotiating venue and catering and other important contracts. weeks of debating details like what kind of font to use on the program and how to assign tables while being aware of who needs to sit with whom...and who cannot sit with whom. and now I am tired. but if I ever get married, I will know exactly what to do. and if there were awards for excel formula building and delicately written emails to people with fragile egos I am pretty sure I would beat all the competition.

but this weekend was to rest. to sleep and heal my immune system that has been ravaged by stress and lack of sleep and existing almost entirely on dried cranberries and almonds.

friday was a day off and you know what I did? I taught myself how to poach an egg. I have always wanted to learn how to poach an egg. and I cleaned my room and wrote letters and watched a wonderful little movie in the middle of the afternoon. it was raining outside and I drank mt. hood vanilla and pretended I was in portland. I had the house to myself and I listened to quiet music and I even took a nap.

and then saturday came and you know what I did? I rested some more. I did not rush. I met a beautiful friend for coffee and she asked me how I was doing and really wanted to know. so I told her. and we talked. about what it's like to be yourself and trust in timing that is impeccable but so not what you would expect. and it was exquisite. and then I went to the movies all by myself. which, if you really want to know, is one of the best treats you can give yourself. and watched another wonderful little movie. and it made me feel melancholy in a good kind of way. in the way that also lets you feel hopeful at the same time. and then I did groceries and made dinner and went on a walk with my roommate. and we talked more.

and now tomorrow is sunday and for all intents and purposes my week is beginning. but for two days I did nothing of consequence. I did only what I wanted to do. and I think I am ready to take on this week. I think.

here are some photos from the big event. I didn't take any of them. but I did plan the whole thing. so I think I deserve to use them. all credit goes to this amazing lady.

{your eyes do not deceive. that really is isaac slade, lead singer of the fray.}

this is it.

2011-09-09T22:29:00.007-04:00

a lot of times I wish my life was neat and tidy. I wish I was settled in one place. I wish I knew what I am doing with the next 60 years of my life. (60? is that all I have left?) I wish I had a clean mind and a clean heart. sometimes even a clean room would be nice.

but then I think of this thrift store. I walked in and was instantly overwhelmed. but I also thought, yes. this is it. what an adventure. I had every intention of visiting the dozens of other hawthorne shops. every intention in the world. but this is where I ended up. for more than four hours. labyrinths of recycled hats and handbags and homemade scarves. racks upon racks of shoes and shorts from the 70s and shirts with pictures of sonny and cher. vintage typewriters and traditional record players tucked in corners. lamps and leftover armchairs and even a few sets of legos. I would discover different versions of the same thing in a million different places. I would leave something in one room and never be able to find it again. every where I turned there was something else to get excited about. spending only $12 was nothing short of a miracle. and a necessary sacrifice considering I had to get on a plane back to dc in a few days.

there was stuff everywhere and yes, I was a bit overwhelmed. at one point I actually had to sit down and take a break. on a discarded card table bearing the face of one elvis presley no less. but here's the thing. it was amazing. amazing to always be finding something new. amazing to spend minutes marveling at a previously loved porcelain doll that would haunt my nightmares, only to turn and marvel at a discarded painting that I would pay good money for. amazing to turn around and find my friend smiling at me from under, what I'm sure, was a very genuine ushanka. it was messy. and unorganized. and probably a little bit dirty. and I could not get enough.

and so I will remember the house of vintage and its lovely chaos. I will remember how I reveled in its horribly flawed organization "system." and I will rejoice in my own lovely chaos. in co-workers that are flawed just like I am. in plans for the future that I have yet to even freak out about. in a mind cluttered with bon iver lyrics I do not fully understand and the occasional philosophical enlightenment. in a heart full of a lot of heartache and a lot of joy. I will even rejoice in a clean room once a week. fine. once a month.

lord willing.

2011-09-07T18:14:00.013-04:00

flowers and unexpected care packages are getting me through this week.
one that is dreary and difficult and never-ending.
any other suggestions of how to get through a week like this?

24 before 25

2011-08-13T23:30:00.018-04:00

here it is, friends. I am starting early (or on time?) this year so I really have no excuse not to get all of this done. no excuse at all.

1. perfect the art of chili hot chocolate. and maybe also the red velvet cake.

2. throw a party with a super epic theme. suggestions now welcome.

3. learn how to be content in my own skin. try to stop second-guessing myself.

4. learn italian. at least a little bit.

5. ~~create my perfect christmas playlist.~~ (I was pretty excited about this one.)

6. travel somewhere I have never been.

7. become an expert polaroid shooter.

8. ~~weekend trips on the train.~~ (here. but more forthcoming.)

9. acquire a genuine record player.

10. go for more walks in search of swing sets.

11. ~~celebrate the unexpected. remember to be grateful.~~ (in progress.)

12. make more lists. as if that was a necessary item to add.

13. read every book by collum mccann.

14. write more short stories. share at least one with someone. try not to be embarrassed.

15. have a guerilla art adventure.

16. take a yoga class. remember to breathe.

17. talk to grandma nancy about her childhood. also her marinara sauce recipe.

18. go to a drive-in movie.

19. ~~understand the words "the joy of the Lord is my strength." get a firm grip on that concept.~~ (here.)

20. read jane eyre for the fist time since fourth grade.

21. rediscover my love for puzzles. yes, jigasw puzzles.

22. ~~create a photo book. give said photo book to someone I love.~~

23. write a poem.

24. stretch more often.

home.

2011-08-11T21:23:00.002-04:00

this is about recognizing the details in myself. the ones I forgot were there. it was nice to have them come back and greet me. nice to be reminded that they are there and surely they'll always be there. forever and ever amen.

what an odd feeling it was to return to a place that I love and slowly begin to have pieces of myself return from the places I have tucked them away. and to realize that the self I am in one place is totally different from the self I am in another. not any less real or less me. just different.

I did things I used to do all the time but never find time for now. I smiled at strangers and people-watched. and I'll tell you something, I don't think I saw one person rushing around in a suit. actually, not one person even wearing a suit. except when it was a hipster and they were wearing a crazy vest or bow-tie with it, of course. I took my earbuds out and listened to the sound of the world humming around me. it hummed with much less force than the car horns and idling buses and electronic buzz currently filling my mind and causing me to reach for those earbuds right now. I thought about something other than work and what I need to do tomorrow. I hugged the people I love with intention and I let them hug me as much as they wanted to. I actually might have overdone it a bit. if you can overdo something like hugs. which, luckily, I do not think is possible. my shoulders loosened. my jaw unclenched. my breath came back in deep, satisfying gulps.

let's just be clear here, people. I actually enjoy my life as it is right now. I have friends who are fun and real and teach me how to live fully. I am exploring a city and drinking lots of wine and eating lots of really good food with lots really great people. I am productive and I am growing and for the most part, I am myself. most of the time I am pretty content. and for the times that I'm not, the joy of the Lord is a wonderful thing I am learning.

but you never can beat the feeling of being home, right?

not too often.

2011-08-03T20:18:00.004-04:00

oh bon iver. how I wish I could live next door to you and hear you creating this music all the time. I would have to live in wisconsin. but I might be okay with that.

it's not too often that you experience something so full of beauty that you feel you might burst under the weight of it. not too often that, in a room with 1200 other people, you experience something that feels intensely intimate. not too often that a silly little piece of music somehow causes the sacred to crash into the secular, merging the two so you cannot begin to pull them apart to dissect how they might differ. not too often that you are smiling throughout an entire two-hour show. not too often that simple little chords and words and melodies make you giggle (yes, giggle) with unadulterated, innocent, pure joy. that is, right up until they bring tears of feeling understood and a little bit less alone in this crazy world. not too often that a concert makes you write posts on your blog that seem just a little bit over-dramatic and extreme and silly because you just can't seem to find the words to explain how completely amazing the experience was. not too often.

hiatus.

2011-06-18T17:22:00.003-04:00

in my hiatus from blogging I was not, in fact, hiatusing from inspiration. there was a ton of inspiration to be had. more than I can even list. but here are just a few things that have done the job over the past few months.

1. weekend vacations - often times, being what some might call an "adult" is overwhelmingly hard. sometimes you just feel inadequate and ill equipped to rise to the challenge. but the good thing about being what some might call an "adult" is that in these moments you also have the ability to step away. to get out of town just for a weekend. to give yourself a break. to remind yourself that your heart is beating and pulsing and regenerating. to think and imagine and create. and it is really great when being what some might call an "adult" means you can rent a hotel room all by yourself. and wander around annapolis. and write. and take pictures of people resting and breathing just as you are resting and breathing.

2. let the great world spin by collum mccann - how wonderful to find a little book that makes you happy you are alive and know how to read. the images he paints with his words are just incredible. and for a little while his characters became my best friends. only the greatest of books can do that.

3. fear - it seems antithetical. but sometimes the best inspiration for action is fear. fear of things changing. of things staying the same. fear of loss. of gain. fear of God.

4. helplessness blues by fleet foxes - I can't stop listening to them. it is a problem. their harmonies are perfect like simon and garfunkle. their lyrics are indelible and raw and honest. and all those instruments being traded around the stage and played impeccably by any one of the six members? I just can't get enough. I am pretty sure I need to move back to the pnw as soon as possible so I can increase my chances of meeting robin pecknold.

5. the bay bridge - so long and high and suspended in that beautiful, impossible way. it goes on forever in a way that makes you think that if you just keep driving straight you will drive right out into that hazy sky above the chesapeake bay. not to mention that I have now been on a bay bridge on both coasts of this country. something about that feels a bit "full circle" to me.

6. the year of magical thinking by joan didion - never before have I experienced grief and mourning so clearly articulated in a matter-of-fact and yet achingly beautiful way. the ordinary instant...

7. an empty house - I was so sad when betsy left for the bright lights of nashville. but the idea of an empty house seems somehow refreshing and revitalizing. like a blank sheet of paper. a box waiting to be filled. a body ready for new challenges. a mind ready for new ideas. a heart ready for new experiences. I think I like that.

8. tapping keys - what a lovely sort of music, the sound my fingers make on the keyboard as I type out my imagination onto a white screen. what a lovely sort of music, the ping of the letters moving up and down. the thoughts flowing from brain to fingers to keys to screen. what a lovely sort of music.

9. thunderstorms - lately its just been so hot. and humid and suffocating. but every once in a while those clouds roll in. and the sky opens up and lets all that humidity turn into what it is meant to be. every once in a while the clouds break open and the rain falls in heavy sheets. steaming off the hot asphalt. every once in a while everything gets washed away in a flash of thunder and lightening so bright night seems like day. and I am reminded that there is always a respite. if only for a moment before the heat begins again.

10. smiling - sometimes I wonder what would happen if I smiled at everyone I made eye contact with. on the train. walking down the street. at the bagel shops and coffee shops and grocery stores I frequent. I worry that they would think I am silly and dumb. or would they appreciate someone noticing? would they smile back?

11. listener - this should be somewhat obvious based on this. he inspires me with his passion and honesty and slight melodrama because let's face it - we all wish we could be a bit melodramatic every once in a while. he inspires me with his words in songs like this. and this. and of course, this.

listener - wooden heart

2011-06-06T21:06:00.020-04:00

I have loved this song for so long and for so many reasons. and if I could imagine the perfect images to go with it, these would be them.

a small warning: maybe don't watch this on a saturday afternoon in the middle of a crowded coffee shop. its beauty and honesty will make you cry. and then you may feel awkward when you look up and people are giving you odd looks of concern and confusion.

but please watch it. as big as you can make it (all you have to do is click on the little arrows in the bottom right). and more than once. and then tell me what you think.

back in march in the midst of regrouping, this song was getting me through so many things. in its own way, bringing order to the chaos I was feeling in and around me. and now, just in time to be the first post in this little experiment in the ordinary instant, here is the official video. I can't really believe how great it is.

thanks to my wonderful friend with the wonderful blog, I found it this weekend. it was actually directed by her super cool brother, whom I don't know, but often wish I did because of how he captures light and details in videos like this one (and also in this one).

I love his voice. the cadence of his tone and how it mixes with the words. I love the melody. the slightly distorted simplicity of it. I even love him. the way he is honest and raw and slightly dramatic in a way I wish I could be sometimes. but mostly it's those lyrics. lyrics like this: I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board. but also like this: but we pick ourselves up, and try and grow better through the change. and definitely like this: everything falls apart at the exact same time that is all comes together perfectly for the next step. how they show me life is broken. but also full of hope. and beauty. and a small glimpse of what is to come.

things are changing a bit!

2011-06-02T23:35:00.006-04:00

lately I've been thinking a lot about focus. my life seems so disjointed so much of the time. I run from place to place. friend to friend. moment to moment. but according to dr. clifton, I just can't function without some level of connectivity. I need continuity. I thrive knowing that "we are not isolated from one another or from the earth and the life on it." I see everything in relation to something else. I find meaning through connection.

I've also been thinking about focus in terms of this blog. I feel as though I need a more distinct purpose for it. a reason to write even if it's just for me to read. I am not particularly good at do-it-yourself crafts or around-the-house projects. I barely have time to eat, let alone cook and write about it. I am not yet brave enough to share the copious amounts of stories and poems I have written.

but I notice the little things. the little details that we miss if we don't look carefully. the insignificant moments that are not so insignificant.

the way a book or short-story or poem can bring us back to memory or even to new life. the beauty of words strung together like twinkly lights strung around a room ready for christmas. simple words that paint an image so complex and real in our mind. the single sentence in a book. the single repeated word.

the way a silly little piece of music can convey so much life - for better or worse. the melody that reminds us what it is like to grieve, to hope, to love, to grow. the sound of a song that brings us back to specific memories in such a real way we could swear it just happened yesterday. the live show that is a moving work of art - less permanent than a painting, but never to be removed from our experience with it. the way a song makes you feel everything around you more distinctly and deeply.

the unnoticed gesture of kindness. the unseen movement of character. the forgotten tree. the lonely fountain. the afterthought. these are the details I love. the details I thrive off of.

joan didion talks about "the ordinary instant" and how it is not so ordinary. for her, the ordinary instant changed everything. for her, the ordinary instant ended a life. for all of us, the ordinary instants are all the details. the ones we overlook in our busyness to reach our goals. to progress.

so in an effort to focus, here is what I will focus on in this little corner I have claimed for my own. the details. the little things that inspire me. the ordinary instants. as anne michaels says, the "gaping life" that is poised in the casual moments. I will observe. I will notice. and I will share it with you. and I would love it if you wanted to share a bit with me too.

writing to myself.

2011-05-17T15:24:00.015-04:00

so it's been a while. and I'm going to be honest, I didn't really think it mattered if I came back or not. but then I remembered why I started this thing in the first place: to remind myself what it's like to write. and to notice the details. and to learn from every experience. and to acknowledge that even the most seemingly ordinary moments are not so ordinary after all. and I realized that even if not one person ever reads this (other than my mom - which of course, counts!) it doesn't mean that this doesn't matter. because it matters to me. and even if most days I don't know what to think about the life coming at me so fast and full of chaos this is one little way of reminding myself that I'll be okay. even on those days when I am tired and grumpy - or maybe especially on those days - I still need to keep writing and noticing and learning and acknowledging. if for no other reason than to look back years from now and remind myself that it is possible to find "gaping life" in every single moment and ordinary instant.

**couldn't find any photos of 17-year-old carrie. so here is 17-year-old mom.
such a fox! she was much more photogenic at 17 than I was.**

so in honor of writing this little blog to my future self - here are a few things I wish I could have told my high-school self.

1. you are not fat.

2. don't worry about losing the senior class-president election. you will be enormously thankful when you don't have to plan reunions in five and ten years.

3. that boy you like so much? the one who just seems so charming and fun and worth losing friends over? he's not.

4. please understand that red mascara is not as cool as you think it is.

5. not all friends are forever. sometimes God places people in your life for just a season. you will learn from them and love them and grow so much through knowing them. you will feel like your friendship will last forever. it won't. you will learn to be okay with this. you will learn to be thankful for this.

6. your dad is not as clueless as you think he is. you are furious now, when he refuses to let you go to the movies alone with that boy you think is great because he is rebellious and "carefree." but years from now, when you are 23, you will be inexpressibly thankful that he knew more about boys than you did.

7. there is absolutely no need to go tanning. you live in the mountains. it snows all the time. being tan in the middle of december is frankly, a little bit weird.

8. the friday nights you spend alone watching black-and-white movies and listening to music are actually a much better use of your time than the parties you are missing.

9. pray more.

10. stop complaining about where you live. it is one of the most beautiful places in the world. go outside more. furthermore, from here on out, you will live in cities where artificial light overshadows everything else. appreciate the stars.

11. please stop trying to be an adult. spend more time doing things that seem childish. you will really regret it if you don't.

12. and stop trying to be so serious. the serious world will knock you off your feet soon enough. for now, allow yourself to laugh when things are funny. allow yourself to smile.

13. it is okay if you don't have all the answers. it is okay if you can't fix every situation. it is all okay.

14. people you love will fail you. you will fail people you love.

15. try harder to understand grace. it is a pretty big deal.

17. get into the habit of waking up early. it will make things easier when you have to do it. for the rest of your life.

18. when ryan gives you a mix cd LISTEN TO IT. and ask for more. he knows what he's doing.

19. what they do at school dances is not dancing. it is gross. please give dancing another chance.

20. listen to the old record player your parents have more often. and appreciate their taste in music.

21. I know you feel like a loser with no friends. you are not a loser. and five years from now you will have friends. really great friends. in lots of different places.

22. appreciate people who disagree with you. learn to listen to them more often.

23. write more often. and save everything you write.

24. be okay with being different. with loving Jesus. with being yourself. even if you don't always know who that is.

25. seriously, red mascara. not a good look for you. or anyone really.

26. love yourself better. love others better. love God better.

regrouping.

2011-03-13T23:50:00.006-04:00

for the few of you that read this - I'm sorry it's been so long. I will be back soon. just gathering my thoughts.

in the meantime. you should listen to this. and go ahead and marvel at the lyrics should you desire. it's sort of amazing in how it sums up all those thoughts I've been gathering. how I've been pulling myself together and regrouping in the midst of all the brokenness and hurting around me. how I've been learning to rejoice in the "grace we've never given." how I've been learning to not let "these waves wash away your hopes." and how I've been learning to rest in knowing I am inextricably braided together with everything around me. even the terribly broken things. because let's face it. I am terribly broken too.

WOODEN HEART (sea of mist called skaidan)
We’re all born to broken people on their most honest day of living
and since that first breath... We’ll need grace that we’ve never given
I've been haunted by standard red devils and white ghosts
and it's not only when these eyes are closed
these lies are ropes that I tie down in my stomach,
but they hold this ship together tossed like leaves in this weather
and my dreams are sails that I point towards my true north,
stretched thin over my rib bones, and pray that it gets better
but it won’t won’t, at least I don’t believe it will...
so I've built a wooden heart inside this iron ship,
to sail these blood red seas and find your coasts.
don’t let these waves wash away your hopes
this war-ship is sinking, and I still believe in anchors
pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviors
but I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board
washed and bound like crooked teeth on these rocky shores
so come on and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

I am the barely living son of a woman and man who barely made it
but we’re making it taped together on borrowed crutches and new starts
we all have the same holes in our hearts...
everything falls apart at the exact same time
that it all comes together perfectly for the next step
but my fear is this prison... that I keep locked below the main deck
I keep a key under my pillow, it’s quiet and it’s hidden
and my hopes are weapons that I’m still learning how to use right
but they’re heavy and I’m awkward...always running out of fight
so I’ve carved a wooden heart, put it in this sinking ship
hoping it would help me float for just a few more weeks
because I am made out of shipwrecks, every twisted beam
lost and found like you and me scattered out on the sea
so come on let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, just some tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

My throat it still tastes like house fire and salt water
I wear this tide like loose skin, rock me to sea
if we hold on tight we’ll hold each other together
and not just be some fools rushing to die in our sleep
all these machines will rust I promise, but we'll still be electric
shocking each other back to life
Your hand in mine, my fingers in your veins connected
our bones grown together inside
our hands entwined, your fingers in my veins braided
our spines grown stronger in time
because are church is made out of shipwrecks
from every hull these rocks have claimed
but we pick ourselves up, and try and grow better through the change
so come on yall and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, were just tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

today.

2011-01-26T11:25:00.014-05:00

today was a hard day. sometimes I get tired of pretending to be a grown-up; of dealing things way beyond what I think I can handle; of trying so hard but feeling so stagnant. and there was a blizzard coming. the metro was packed. everyone was wet and grumpy. cars were stranded all over the streets. how inconvenient and annoying.

then my friends came over and made me play in the snow and remind myself where I come from and why I love snowstorms. the snowflakes that fall and land on the trees and the ground and muffle all the sounds of an otherwise chaotic world. the blanket of ice crystals that somehow make things feel a little bit warmer. the sound of boots crunching through powder and trees creaking under the weight of precipitation. the snowflakes that catch on my eyelashes just for a moment until I blink and they continue their little journey to the ground.

and I was reminded that the world is beautiful. and good. and not always as serious as I make it out to be. it is messy and complicated, for sure. but it's also pretty great.

plus, I have awesome friends.

"it's all happening."

2011-01-21T08:31:00.005-05:00

sometimes I wonder, where along the way, I consented to "grow up." and I wonder if I can really handle all that is happening and all that is coming. so much of the time I feel ill-equipped and ill-prepared. did I miss those lessons that taught me how to date? how to find a healthy balance between work and life? how to budget? how to function daily as an adult? because lately I feel like a little girl playing dress up. I look at all that is ahead of me and can't imagine how I will ever be ready to handle it. even now, after all the "grown up" things I have done in the past year. (at this moment, I am on a plane coming home to dc from a work trip. I now travel for work. how ironic considering that I used to hate to fly.) even now, I still feel like a child only pretending to be an adult. and I really have no idea what I am doing. and I am a little bit scared. not just about the fact that I am 10,000 feet in the air and watching the wing of this airplane wobble in turbulence. but about all of it. can I really handle all that I am about to face? can I handle having a career where people count on me for things I am only just learning how to do? can I handle being in relationships where I am responsible for another person's heart? can I handle being a mother one day? can I handle being an adult? so much in me just doesn't think so.

but I know that despite my best efforts, time keeps moving forward. I keep growing up. and all forward motion counts. I will keep figuring out how to handle what I don't think I can. and really, I am excited about it all. I just wish I felt a little bit better equipped. then again, I guess if I was ready for everything all the time, I wouldn't really need to depend on the One who created me to "grow up" into the person he would have me to be. I guess if I felt totally equipped for it all, I wouldn't fully be able to know that I need him so desperately in every, single piece of my life.

so I will continue resting in the fact that although I am ill-equipped to handle all of this, he is not. and that is all I really need to know.

**bonus points for anyone who can name the film from which this post's title is taken from!

december.

2011-01-16T00:09:00.001-05:00

the last playlist of the year. I can't believe I actually made it. barely. and late every time. but it feels good to finish something. 2010 has been one for the books. and I can't help but wonder - what's next?

1. home - edward sharpe and the magnetic zeros (for book-ending 2010 in my favorite place.)

2. symphonies - dan black (for when I am steeped in my uncertainty.)

3. dog days - florence and the machine (for making peace with where I am right now. at this moment.)

4. silver coin - angus and julia stone (for when things need to be quiet.)

5. tighten up - the black keys (for when things need to be loud.)

6. the greatest - cat power (for getting me through a year of changing expectations. and helping me let them go.)

7. we no speak americano - yolanda be cool (for when I am lost in translation. and for when I think it would be freaking awesome to be able to do that with my hands.)

8. blue ridge mountains - fleet foxes (for restless wandering and always wondering.)

9. joy to the world - sufjan stevens (for a new take on my favorite. and because he has been on every other playlist this year.)

these friends of mine

2011-01-10T21:57:00.010-05:00

although it stinks to find out the hard way, it's always nice when you find out who your friends are. it's nice to know who you can really count on even when it's because you find out who you can't.

but I am not going to let this be about how hurt I may or may not be right now. it's going to be about how undeniably, inexplicably blessed I am to have the true friends that I do. after a year of wondering what the heck is wrong with me, I am finally starting to find great friends right where I am. and going home for rach and steve's wedding only confirmed that I have a group of soul mates in portland (and lincoln city, and omaha, and sacramento and montana and even denver and arkansas) who never let me forget that no matter what happens I will always have people who care and love for one another in a way that proves God's goodness. when I think about what it must be like in heaven to have perfect community with the One who loves me more than I can ever imagine...well the only thing I can think of that even begins to help me understand what this will be like is to think of these people who are my best friends.

so here's to you - you beautiful friends of mine.

you show me what it looks like to love others in a way that is truly glorifying to God. from the careers you choose to the way you treat every single person you meet with respect and true acknowledgment of their precious place as God's creation. you inspire me to live for God and for others more than myself.

when I'm with you I see who God is more clearly. when I'm with you I am truly joyful. when I'm with you I know who I am. I honestly don't know what I would do without you.

and let's be honest - you are all just so dang good looking!

the one who will always be my sister and best friend

the ones who will always be my soul mates (and future neighbors)

(other than the first one, all of the above photos are credited to the lovely mrs. leah ell.)

one last look.

2011-01-04T19:02:00.032-05:00

january.

troy, pennsylvania. family reunion. jena and dom. collecting myself. diving in. dave eggers. mix tape mania. strengths finder.

february.

snowed in snowstorms. birthday festivities. caleb being baptized. movie marathons. new music finding. snowpocalypse. the yellow knight. feeling like a kid again.

march.

sabrina running. thawing out. missing home. crying a lot. laughing a lot. searching a lot. the history of love. stepping out from under the haze. daffodils.

april.

blossoms. all things made new. sweet summer. hip to the hop. texas. read, study, write, repeat. greenberries. bubble wands. childhood laughter. his death is my life. thankful.

may.

finishing fellows. fresh air. road trips. dance parties. windows down. mariners with jyndia. baltimore. humidity. the ocean. the choices. the decision to be happy.

june.

a fresh start. daisies. this american life. touristing with the family. recognizing beauty. sweaty metro. finding something real.

july.

lost and found. Becca. letting go. green monster (the drink, not the envy). stuck in between. 23. jazz in the sculpture garden. forgiveness. eastern market. fireworks from a parking garage.

august.

new job. new roommates. old stress. tired. sycamore street. mountains of montana. ange and josh. jumping on hotel beds. best friends. free coffee. pola. cowboys. breathing in.

september.

making old things new. the end of summer. the beginning of fall. feeling stressed. feeling unbalanced. feeling alive. feeling content. a brand new sky.

october.

traveling for work. stanford. exploding nerves. dallas willard. exploding relief. tahoe summer...in the fall. disposable camera skies. baby bear cubs. mom. dad. loved.

november.

daily introspection. climbing trees. picking apples. daily deep breaths. wordless weekends. finding the time. Regina. thankful.

december.

working late. tabard inn. snow. my soul-mates. rach and steve. colored christmas lights. anticipation. mindy. los angeles. crazy family. feeling pulled in a million directions. ornament toss. happy. relieved. content. the end. the beginning.

november.

2010-12-13T18:32:00.013-05:00

way back at the very beginning of november, when the lovely miss rachel was here, we saw jónsi at 930 club. and let me tell you, it was just so beautiful - in the way that art is beautiful. (exhibit a. and if you really want to know, exhibit b.)

and that's the thing about (good) concerts. how they are art being formed right in front of your eyes. how the people playing really love what they do and make you love it too. how you share in one common experience - how you sweat and breathe and love a simple little piece of music with hundreds of people and then walk away, without a word ever being said. and how after the show, when your feet are sore and your back aches from standing on concrete for three hours, it's okay. because it was totally worth it.

I don't have a bucket list currently. but if I did, rest assured that I would be going to a lot of concerts. below you'll find a partial list of who would be on it. in no particular order:

1. sufjan stevens (because every time he opens his mouth I melt into a puddle of delirious joy. and also because, let's face it, he is beautiful and I would marry him in a heartbeat.)

2. andrew bird (because I will always wish that I could whistle like him. or at all.)

3. mos def and kweli (because I was too young to appreciate them when they were black star)

4. grizzly bear (because I love that piano melody. and his voice.)

5. gogol bordello (because how weird and awesome would that be?!?)

6. radiohead (because I think I would like to see what a musical genius looks like)

7. the decemberists (because they just tell the best stories)

8. ani difranco (because she is the embodiment of girl power. and I am all about girl power.)

9. mates of state (because everything about them makes me smile)

10. bon iver (because his words feed my soul like water)

100 things

2010-11-30T23:10:00.003-05:00

100 simple things in the world I love:

1. this recording of river by the forever lovely joni mitchell.
2. leaves crunching underneath my feet.
3. swing sets.
4. a good laugh right from the belly.
5. compassion.
6. lonely trees.
7. freshly baked bread. or cookies. or anything really.
8. mix tapes.
9. being read to.
10. funfetti frosting. on funfetti cake mix.
11. lake tahoe sunsets.
12. generosity.
13. chocolate soy milk.
14. forts made out of couch cushions.
15. words.
16. the mountains.
17. the beech house.
18. sun-dried tomato hummus.
19. tulips.
20. cherries.
21. library books.
22. avocados
23. origami cranes.
24. flying kites.
25. white string lights.
26. lavender soap.
27. accordions.
28. college-ruled notebook paper.
29. open fields.
30. blowing bubbles.
31. friends who come to visit.
32. grilled onions.
33. nailpolish in fun colors. especially of the purple variety.
34. consistency.
35. proud dads.
36. colorful fine-point sharpies.
37. genuine smiles.
38. snowmen.
39. hugs.
40. tea light candles.
41. dancing.
42. nativity scenes.
43. polaroids.
44. old childrens books. especially peter pan.
45. water.
46. waking up to the sun instead of an alarm clock.
47. oversized coffee mugs.
48. flowers. especially of the wild variety.
49. the perfume I have worn since high school.
50. sparklers.
51. wedding photos.
52. dangly earrings.
53. the sound of cars driving in the rain.
54. meltaway mints.
55. secret passageways.
56. collages.
57. mini oranges. especially of the clementine variety.
58. clean sheets.
59. face lotion with sunscreen already in it.
60. limes
61. stuffing. especially of the thanksgiving variety.
62. coloring books.
63. rain.
64. sunlight.
65. nutmeg.
66. road trips.
67. clouds outside airplane windows.
68. foreign films.
69. sno-cones.
70. crocheted blankets.
71. sugar cubes.
72. black and white movies. especially of the cary grant and grace kelly variety.
73. blackest black mascara.
74. walking.
75. jackets.
76. accent walls.
77. mini candy canes.
78. vacuuming.
79. sail boats.
80. wine.
81. thesauruses.
82. going to the movies in the middle of the day.
83. paper lanterns.
84. silly faces.
85. apple picking.
86. tree climbing.
87. cherry chapstick.
88. making (and eating) dinner with friends.
89. small adventures.
90. words that rhyme.
91. unexpected smiles.
92. passion.
93. lists (natch)
94. advent calendars.
95. bright striped beach balls.
96. bicycles.
97. learning new things.
98. re-reading childrens books.
99. thrift stores.
100. fountains.

what do you love?

5 reasons

2010-11-29T23:22:00.011-05:00

(as this is the last week of nablopomo I have decided to go back to my favorite sort of blog to write. get ready for lots of lists!)

I know lots of people probably feel this way lately, but I just can't help but fall more in love with for emma, forever ago every time I listen to it. so for anyone who doesn't yet love bon iver - and for the few of you who read this - here are...

5 reasons I am in love with the wisconsin woods (and a certain man from them):

(also, listen to this while you read)

1. wonderful food for my introverted soul. sustains my peace in chaos. calms my wandering, worrying, wondering spirit.

2. justin vernon (who ostensibly is bon iver) went thoreau on us and recorded almost the entirety of for emma in a remote cabin in the woods (this one was in wisconsin, not massachusetts, though). the result, much like walden in some strange way, is a piece of art that is completely stripped down and simplified to only what is necessary.

3. the lyrics…oh, the lyrics. honest and raw. simple and complex. lovely. painful. lonely. the images that his words evoke are concrete yet completely baffling at the same time. they are bitter at some parts, but completely open and vulnerable in all. they are so beautifully heart-broken that they make me cry without even knowing why…and I think I am okay with that.

4. due to the whole "recording in the middle of the woods" thing, the music that accompanies the lyrics perfectly matches their rawness. for most of the tracks the music is simple and broken down to only what is needed. the album’s sound is (surprisingly) like nothing I have ever heard. even those tracks that have more than the basics – the ones with horn intros and overlapping vocals and percussion that sounds like someone threw a drum set across the room – only serve to enhance a sense of stripped down aloneness. and the cacophony of noise at some points is so overwhelming and comforting at the same time.

5. it reminds me that to be introverted and maybe a little isolated is okay. to be sad is okay. to be lonely is okay. because sometimes to be isolated does not paralyze, but inspires and comforts. and because in all of it, I am learning the intricacies of who I am.

Please go listen to the rest of the album. It may not change your life, but it sure is pretty.

your hand in mine

2010-11-28T22:26:00.003-05:00

because I can't really have a wordless weekend without some explosions.

winter in st. mortiz

2010-11-27T17:18:00.002-05:00

I love this song because it is raspy and pretty beautiful in its simplicity. and really, who doesn't love panda bear?

wild things

2010-11-26T17:55:00.004-05:00

for the most auspicious of holidays - black friday. when I miss home and its hiking and cross-country skiing and general lack of malls and traffic.

the peace of wild things - wendell berry

when despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.
I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light.
For a time I rest in the grace of the world,
and am free.

let me paint

2010-11-25T01:03:00.010-05:00

welcome morning - anne sexton

there is joy in all:
in the hair I brush each morning.
in the cannon towel, newly washed,
that I rub my body with each morning.
in the chapel of eggs I cook each morning,
in the outcry from the kettle
that heats my coffee each morning,
in the spoon and the chair that cry
"hello there, anne" each morning,
in the godhead of the table
that I set my silver plate, cup upon each morning.

all this is God,
right here in my pea-green house each morning
and I mean
though often forget,
to give thanks,
to faint down by the kitchen table
in a prayer of rejoicing
as the holy birds at the kitchen window
peck into their marriage of seeds.

so while I think of it,
let me paint a thank-you on my palm
for this God,
this laughter of the morning,
lest it go unspoken.

the joy that isn't shared, I've heard,
dies young.

whenever I think about being thankful I come back to this poem. it reminds me to be thankful for everything. every detail. and lately I have just been floored with how awesome and cool and amazing God is. and that reminds me to be thankful. because he works all things for good. and to his glory. and there are one in the same. and I cannot comprehend how he does it. so all I can be is thankful.

in my grand tradition of painting a thank-you on my palm here are five things I am thankful for - one for each of my fingers - with the hope that I can share my joy before it "dies young."

pinkie: I am thankful for details. I love seeing the little aspects of life that I miss if I don’t look hard enough. lately people watching has been a big thing for me. and dc has proved to be a very useful place to practice. watching the way people interact on the train. watching the way they walk down the street. watching the way the kids in youth group are a family. the way they hug each other and love each other in a way that truly mirrors how Christ loves us. watching the way the rainclouds move slowly in. and then watching the raindrops fall as people in umbrellas run through the rain looking for shelter.

ring: I am thankful for my morning walk to the train. let's be honest, most of the time I hate commuting. but on the mornings when it is nice enough weather (and I am not running late for work) the mile-long walk to the metro station is refreshing. it is such a nice way to wake up and be thankful for the day that has been given to me. to see the blue sky and feel the cold morning air mix with the rising sun on my skin. to walk in time with music and remind myself that God is good. all the time.

middle: I am thankful for people who smile for no reason. every once in a while I will catch someone smiling just because. sometimes, on the train, they're reading and find something funny that no one else can see. sometimes I think they just remember something and it reminds them that life is really great. sometimes - and this is always the best - they will smile at me for no apparent reason too. and that just makes me happy. because people around here don't smile too often. they are much too serious for that. but every once in a while - when they look up from the street or the newspaper or their phone and smile - well that just makes me so thankful to be a human being.

pointer: I am thankful for flowers. this is an easy one because, let's face it, flowers are a must in winter. when things are cold and dreary I try to have a continuous flow of flowers reminding me that life is just so very beautiful and worth all the hard stuff that we go through. reminding me that growth and sanctification are hard but always produce that which is beautiful to God.

thumb: I am thankful for friends. I know this seems cliche to say in the thanksgiving season, but lately it's been more true than ever. as I have begun to finally connect with people in dc and as I have had such wonderful friends visit me and call me and care for me well from 3,000 miles away, I have been astounded by how awesome community is. for a long time I used it as a crutch to rely on other people instead of God. but lately I have been learning how community is necessary not because it replaces God - but because it is a reflection of the perfect community we will one day have with him. and when I realized that everything about my friendships changed. the way I love people. the way I receive love from them. every aspect of my relationships should glorify God. and when I stop making my relationships about how they satisfy my desires and insecurities and start making sure they are pleasing to God - well that just makes me so much more thankful to know the amazing people that I do.

the joy that isn't shared, I've heard,
dies young.

lately.

2010-11-24T23:08:00.006-05:00

lately I have been learning and finding and seeing a lot of details that remind me of one thing: God is freaking awesome.

hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come.
you wait and watch and work; you don't give up.
- anne lamott

stories

2010-11-23T21:09:00.000-05:00

what is the story that you are writing with your life?
is your life a testimony of your faith?

lately I feel like questions regarding the kind of life I want to live have been popping up all over the place. and it has been more than the typical question of a recent college graduate of what I want to do with my life. it is more holistic. what is the story that I am writing with my life? in every situation. in every action. in every attitude.

I came to dc with an idealistic all you need is love approach to changing the world and quickly learned that often times, love is not nearly enough. you need truth. and strategy. and money doesn't hurt either. since then, the past year has been a lesson in standing firm in the truth. and it has been invaluable to learn how I can live in truth despite the relativistic world that surrounds me. but now, I find I have begun to forget what it looks like to love people. I have spent so much time and energy learning how to speak the truth, but in many ways, I have forgot that truth must always be spoken in love. yes, I need to stand firm and speak the truth. but what I know to be true should have no ultimate bearing on how well I love people. no ultimate bearing on how I am called to live in community with them.

and that line is so hard to walk. how do I speak the truth and yet not allow it to affect the fact that I am called to love people who may not know the truth? how do I love people no matter what? with no strings attached. and I mean really love people. it is easy to say, yes we must speak the truth in love. but I think a lot of the time we forget that saying it is not enough. we don't love people with our words. we love people with our actions. faith without deeds is dead. truth without love is nothing.

let no debt remain outstanding except the continuing debt to love one another, for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law. the commandments...are summed up in this one command: "love your neighbor as yourself."

especially in the last year, I think I have gotten used to living in a polarized, categorized, black-and-white world where it seems impossible to love someone with no strings attached while still speaking of the absolute Truth that is Christ. where we constantly say we must speak the truth in love but rarely remember what it looks like to love someone well. we forget that loving someone well is not about us. it is about them. it is about listening and understanding another point of view and not dismissing it (even if we know it is wrong). because to love someone well we need to understand how they best receive love. and the world is not black-and-white so much of the time. it is messy. and broken. and Jesus ate dinner with prostitutes and tax-collectors. he did not sit above them preaching the truth. he was truth. and he was love.

so I have to actually live my story, not just write it. I have to love people and I have to stand in the truth. and this principle seems simple enough. and it is easy to do this with my words. but just so much harder with my actions. I will let you know how it goes.

one art. elizabeth bishop.

2010-11-22T21:10:00.008-05:00

how much do I love this poem? a whole lot.

the art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

lose something every day. accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
the art of losing isn't hard to master.

then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. none of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. and look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
the art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. and, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. it's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (write it!) like disaster.

lo boob oscillator

2010-11-21T22:17:00.005-05:00

I know. technically this is not wordless. but the fact that I need a translator to understand the words makes it count. plus stereolab is just wonderful. and this song is just about perfect. it is for when I need air and sunlight and every good thing. and it reminds me of good friends. and today I realized that I have a lot of them. in california. and in portland. and even in virginia. and I am so very grateful.

crayon

2010-11-20T22:05:00.006-05:00

today is all about caribou. oh man, this song makes me feel like I am eight years old again. and I just love it.

this morning

2010-11-19T10:05:00.007-05:00

casual friday means jeans. brown boots. favorite jacket with the big brown buttons. chunky scarf the color of red wine. bangs pinned back leaving my face uncluttered. leaving my sight clear. feelings of confidence. grace. contentedness. knowing that no matter what happens today God will still know who I am.

deciding to miss the bus means a walk through this crisp fall air. just cold enough to see my breath. hands bunched in pockets. earbuds firmly in place. andrew bird fluttering through my mind like the trees above me. his voice like mint meltaways in my mouth. my steps fall in time with the beat. perfect polaroid blue sky. sun low enough to be blocked by the trees. slivers of light peeking through like shards of glass. the feeling of sunlight mixed with the bite of morning air as it gently slaps my cheeks.

the gray of the sidewalk suddenly gives way to fallen leaves yet to be raked and bagged and disposed of. piled high enough to cover the top of my feet. my steps slow down. dead leaves rustle around my steps and crunch under my feet. one of my most favorite non-musical sounds. the sound of a life at its end - content with the journey to this point. content knowing that a purpose has been fulfilled. a smile pulls at the corners of my mouth. this is the adult equivalent to the jumping of huge piles of raked leaves. moments of pure elation that punctuated my childhood. there is the house with the abandoned bird bath. no other lawn ornaments around it. just a solitary bird bath painted royal blue. a leaf floats in the discarded water that will soon freeze. maybe this one leaf will remain, crystallized until spring comes again.

a truck advertising lawn care and leaf removal pulls me back. cars speed past in their hurry to start the day. my pace quickens, no longer in time with the music. now keeping time with the people walking around and past in their hurry to catch the approaching train. but my mind stays back at the bird bath, with the fallen leaves underfoot. my heart stays at rest, knowing that despite how things change, my place as one who belongs to one so much greater will always remain.

fear and trembling

2010-11-18T21:49:00.007-05:00

I just finished reading fear and trembling by soren kierkegaard. full disclosure: I understood about half of it. maybe less. but one part I think I got was when he was talking about what a great life looks like and what it takes to make a great life happen. it takes a lot of effort to live in a way that is working with God to build an awesomely beautiful end scene. and I cannot skip to the end. I cannot steal the lesson or somehow buy greatness. if I really want to learn something and learn how to live, I must begin at the beginning. I cannot expect to know the outcome first, "for one knows the result only when the whole thing is over." God has saved me and bought me and, for no other reason than his grace, I will get to spend eternity with him. but I still have to do the work to make my story great while I am in this present reality. when everything is said and done, and God asks me what I did with this body and mind and heart that he entrusted to me for a little while, I want to have something interesting to tell him.

in his book, kierkegaard wrote that our lives become great, "not, by being relieved of the distress, the agony, and the paradox, but because of these." and I think I am starting to understand that part more and more. that the tests and the trials and the struggles that I live through only make my story better. that if I want to live a great story, I have to do the work to make it happen. that joy costs pain and greatness takes a lot of risk and a whole lot of work. I think I have finally come to a peace with this. but the part that has proven to be harder for me to grasp is how my actions must speak louder than my circumstances. kierkegaard wrote, "it is not what happens to me that makes me great, but what I do." put another way, in one of my most favorite books, donald miller says, "the only way to know the truth is to make choices under pressure, to take one action or another in the pursuit of desire…the idea that a character is what he does remains the hardest to actually live." it seems so simple. if I want my story - my life - to be great, it is not just that I need to be able to deal with hard things. I need to be able to act differently in the face of them. I need to be able to love people well despite how I feel. I need to be able to live so that my words are not void. that is a whole lot harder than it seems. and I don't have a lot of answers at the moment. maybe tomorrow.

today

2010-11-17T21:56:00.004-05:00

and this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ. philippians 1:9-10

(thanks for the picture, rach)

silver and gold

2010-11-16T22:17:00.011-05:00

what fun it is to have best friends who come and visit. what fun it is to make wonderful, genuine, amazingly cool new friends. what fun it is to see this city with fresh eyes and a much more positive attitude. what fun it is to laugh and talk and pray and peacefully sit with people who do not need more than for you to just be here now.

this weekend was full of:

eating lunch on the steps of the portrait gallery.

seeing old things with new eyes. I think this may be my new lunch spot.

exploring secret passage ways at the national cathedral.

wondering what is at the top of all those stairs.

eating cupcakes next to a hot pink bicycle.

taking illegal pictures. the whirring of the sx-70 is so not conducive to my picture thievery.

sitting on the floor of bartleby's reading vintage children's books.

how he loves

2010-11-15T21:14:00.000-05:00

saturday, november 13. the lamb center.

I think I will be processing this one for a long time. but here is the first attempt to understand how God continues to blow my expectations out of the water and show me his love and grace in the most unlikely of situations.

just as bible study was about to begin, her mother tapped me on the shoulder. "would you mind sliding over a little bit more? we like to sit on the end." as I stood up to make room at the table, I saw mia. a little girl so deformed it made me gasp for breath. her skull was folded in on itself, almost looking like an egg on its side. her hands and feet were curled into balls. her body was shrunken to half its size. she had her name written in sharpie on each of her socks. her mother, a petite woman not older than 40, slowly lifted mia out of her wheelchair and placed her in her lap. "well good morning, miss mia." the table echoed with greetings from old friends. a most unlikely community surrounding this little girl and her mother. "you are looking so beautiful this morning!"

bible study moved forward. we spoke of the gospel of luke and the grace of our Creator who enters into the mess of life with us. who walks alongside us and somehow works all things for good. and these people believe this with all their heart. in their homelessness and in their struggles beyond anything I can ever imagine. they believe that God works all things for good. and mia's mother believes this. she sleeps in her car and she has a daughter who needs constant and meticulous care. and she loves her so beautifully. as I listened to the people around me talk of God's grace and his love for us as we are broken and beyond repair, I watched mia's mother stroke her hair and kiss her protruding forehead. her love for her daughter was beyond any words I can think of except to say that it was the most perfect picture of unconditional love that I have ever seen. or will ever see. and in her love for mia I saw God and how he loves us. how he picks up our broken bodies and places us in his lap. how he kisses our deformities and our scars and covers us with his perfect and unfailing love. and although mia could not smile or even move on her own I knew that she feels that love. she knows it is there. she has a peace and a joy that shines through her brokenness.

and here's the thing. my life is easy compared to 99% of the people in the room that day. even though my house is a little bit old, I don't sleep in my car. even though my job is a little bit frustrating, I have found work that not only provides for my life, but is actually satisfying. even though my budget is a little bit tight, I can still spend money on polaroid film and vintage children's books in georgetown. but so much of the time, I live in a way that takes for granted the life God has given me. in one of my most favorite books, donald miller writes "life is staggering and we're just used to it. we are like spoiled children no longer impressed with the gifts we're given." and I think that's true. I take the beauty of life for granted. I take God's unconditional love for granted. but mia doesn't. and her mom doesn't. and the people I talked to on saturday don't. they could be real angry at God. they could choose to hate him. or not belive in him. instead, they live in the truth that their life is a gift. and they live in the truth that God is good. all the time. no matter what.

la redécouverte

2010-11-14T08:25:00.000-05:00

this is what I wish my childhood sounded like. and why I love accordions.

comptine d'un autre été: l'après-midi

2010-11-13T21:44:00.001-05:00

it's a wordless weekend again. and I am still processing this day I just had (details to come). today I am exhausted and a little bit burnt out. but also grateful. and thankful. and so blessed.

given that the world sometimes knocks me off my feet with how it overflows with beauty and grace I thought this song - my most favorite song - was only fitting.

impeccable timing

2010-11-12T23:43:00.010-05:00

I am often amazed with the impeccable timing of God. how his hand is in every single situation and thought and action. how he guides me even when I think I am walking my own way. how he gives me exactly what I need when I need it - without me asking for it - or even knowing I need it. how he is good. always. and until the end.

but I am like the olive tree flourishing in the house of God;
I trust in God's unfailing love for ever and ever.
I will praise you for what you have done;
in your name I will hope, for your name is good.
- psalm 52:8-9

for now...

2010-11-11T18:23:00.008-05:00

there's a lot to say about the past two days of rachel and stacy and all the fun we had. but for now I leave you with some mumford and sons. because let's be honest it's pretty hard to get tired of them.

transformation

2010-11-10T21:21:00.006-05:00

transformation: to make a thorough or dramatic change in the form or character of. more intense than change, transformation is to not only a change in appearance or outward image, it is an entire shift from one nature and character to a new perspective of how the world works and how we function within it. we change everyday: from our clothes to our appearance to our opinion. but transformation is much more rare. change may be inevitable, but transformation is based on how much we allow ourselves to be altered from the inside, out. and when we let this happen, transformation can be explosive and life altering.

when we stop trying to figure out who we are within the context of the world, and we begin to live with an understanding of who we are in relation to the kingdom of God instead, we begin to slowly be transformed. and when we decide to let God transform our lives, he doesn't just change our mindset, he answers the deepest questions of our soul and the strongest desires of our heart. through this transformation alone, will we truly learn how to live authentically in the calling he has placed upon our lives.

but when God transforms us and reveals his vision and purpose to us, it is not only meant to affect our own lives. just as an electrical transformer transfers energy from one circuit to another, when god transforms us, he is transferring his purpose and love through us, so we can begin to transform a broken world.

rachel

2010-11-09T17:33:00.003-05:00

rachel is here and I am so happy. I feel like I can breathe. I feel like I myself. our talking has not stopped since she got here and I cannot believe I have even made it this long without her. she is just good for my soul on so many levels.

light and space.

2010-11-08T22:49:00.007-05:00

I drive through neighborhoods of houses that are so big I wonder if they house the von trapp family. I drive through neighborhoods with gated entrances that give way to circular driveways. I drive through houses that look like castles but are really only part-time homes for diplomats or politicians. I drive until the houses give way to the natural world I am winding through roads that are lined with trees the color of fire and light. the sun is setting and I am blinded by the light that will soon turn to dusk and then to darkness. the leaves grasp unto the branches that have been their home and then finally give up, falling down to earth, spiraling and floating as they try to decide where to land. they fall like confetti out of the cards my grandmother used to send me for birthdays and just to say hello. the weather is quickly turning cold, but I roll my window down. crisp air hits my face and I feel my cheeks turn pink. the album leaf plays soft and slow, willing me to slow down and remember that even in the midst of the busiest place in america, there can always be moments of light and stillness and peace.

I drive under the canopy of trees and try to catch a leaf as it floats down. they rejoice in the crisp air just as much as I do. my car creeps up a hill, trying to keep up with the sun that is setting quickly. up. up. up I go like a roller coaster that continues its ascent long after you are sure is safe. I reach the top of hill and for a split second I am convinced that I will not stop going. that I will simply keep moving through the sky and into the clouds. for that fleeting moment at the top of that hill all I see is light and space. and then I dip back down and my stomach lunges a bit trying to stay in the light - where it knows it cannot. I am covered in dusk and shadow. but the shadow only reminds me of the sunlight. and I do not forget the light and stillness and peace.

3055

2010-11-07T15:04:00.001-05:00

wordless weekends are good for my soul. here's one reason why.

ljósið

2010-11-06T20:24:00.020-04:00

thank goodness for wordless weekends over at nablopomo. this weekend (and every other day) I am obsessed with ólafur arnalds.

rahab.

2010-11-05T20:39:00.005-04:00

joshua 2; hebrews 11; matthew 1

in my faithfulness, God is beginning to teach me how faithful he is. he is faithful to use me despite my circumstances, my mistakes, and my lack of understanding. he does not need me and yet he uses my weakness to affect the world. he chooses me for the same reason he chose the israelites; not because they were particularly strong or smart or great, but simply because through them (and me), he is able to reveal his glory and his love for a broken world. (in fact, the israelites were slaves who were broken and beaten and weak.) it is not my qualifications or skills or talents that earn me the right to be used by him…it is simply the faithfulness I am able to have by his grace. just as rahab was rewarded for her faith, so God will rejoice in my broken, messed-up life calling out to him. rahab was the lowest of the low. she was a woman, she was canaanite, and she was a prostitute. but she was faithful despite her status and God not only rescued her when the wall of jericho fell, he rejoiced in her. he celebrated her life as part of the genealogy of king david, and later, jesus. he rejoiced in her faithfulness in hebrews 11 when it talks of the most faithful people unto God.

I am learning the magnitude of what it means to love a God who allows me to co-author the story of creation with him. the God of heaven, creator of the universe, allows me to stumble alongside him and change the world. he walks beside me and he carries me when I am weak…all so I have the chance to be a pivotal part of his plan for the world. through my faith that seems so insignificant in the scheme of the world, he does amazing, awesome things.

I will step out beyond what I can see and I will believe that he will use me in some ridiculous, miraculous way.

views from the road

2010-11-04T20:49:00.006-04:00

in the past 2 days I have traveled through half the country, spent about 6 hours in one airport or another, and slept approximately 4 hours. so in order to stay true to this whole nablopomo thing I am posting. but I must admit, it is wholly half-hearted and half-asleep.

two good things about spending over 14 hours of the past 36 in the sky or somewhere near it:

catching up on reading (everything from the times to in style to fear and trembling)

marveling at the wonder of flight and God's grace to let us do it

houston we have a problem.

2010-11-03T23:59:00.002-04:00

it is 11:41 in houston, texas. which means although I would have missed my daily blogging deadline if I were an hour ahead in dc, I still have 19 minutes here. so in honor of the 19 (well, now 17) minutes left here is what my day has consisted of (and what many days in the coming months will consist of - with a few changes in location, of course):

7:00 am - flight out of national at 7:00am (which meant airport arrival of 6:00. which meant metro arrival at 5:15.)
8:30 am - land in charlotte, nc at 8:30. walk by awesome white rocking chairs on my way to next flight (completely forfeiting actual breakfast)
11:11 am - land in houston, tx. drink pumpkin spice soy latte and answer work emails while waiting for coworkers to arrive and 1:12.
1:30 pm - pick up rental car. get lost on the way back to terminal. get lost on the way to hotel.
2:00 pm - check in at hotel. go directly to lunch - making my first meal at 2:30 pm.
3:30 pm - run back to hotel. throw on gray dress, black cardigan, and (to my horror) black nylons. grab heels but refuse to put them on until absolutely necessary.
4:15 pm - arrive at venue. set up registration table/book table. give instructions to catering people/audio people/myself. rest for five minutes in the calm before the storm.
6:00 pm - check in and meet 110 people. spend no time lamenting the fact that I do not get to touch the wine and fancy hors d'oeuvres I excitedly picked two weeks ago.
7:00 pm - listen to tidbits of the most amazing speaker and scholar of dietrich bonhoeffer (and chief author of veggie tales) I have ever heard.
8:30 pm - try to keep breathing while selling books, organizing an author signing, managing new membership sign-ups, and wrangling one president, three hosts and one speaker.
10:30 pm - impromptu (but somehow mandatory) dinner. actively forgoing my "no food after 8 pm" rule - with mexican food.
11:37 - arrive back at hotel. bust out a blog.

on the plus side, I successfully planned and executed an event with 113 people and raised over $1000 dollars.

on the plus side, I get to fly back to dc tomorrow.

on the plus side, I am getting this blog done at 11:58 pm. mission accomplished.

it's hard to do

2010-11-02T22:47:00.002-04:00

here's the thing: community is hard. it combines all the things we are bad at – all the things that don’t come naturally – and it forces us to try those things out. vulnerability. trust. honesty. lack of judgment. accountability. all these words I say that I want to practice, but when it comes down to it – well, it’s just really freaking hard. and it’s so much work. if I could have anything it would be a small group of friends who are fiercely committed to practicing authentic community together. but then again. that takes a whole lot of effort.

here’s another thing: this place is notoriously bad at community. we have networks. we have business lunches that we plan four weeks in advance. we know lots of people. but not in a way that translates into actually living life with one another. we work tirelessly to make the world a better place, but sometimes we forget to stop working and actually spend unadulterated time making each other better too.

here’s one more thing: community is absolutely necessary. without it we go through life having no idea who we are. having no idea who God is. because let’s face it – everything we have that is good is simply a reflection of the gospel. the love we have for one another reflects the love of a creator who made us perfect and still loves us after we have messed ourselves up. the promises and business deals we hold one another accountable to reflect an absolutely perfect covenant that we often fail to meet but that God never does. and the community we practice (however imperfectly) reflects – in the smallest way – the perfect community we will one day have with him again.

so to recap: community is seriously hard. this place is notoriously bad at community. community is absolutely necessary. how is this supposed to work? I learn how to find community with my creator first. I learn to see others (and myself) through his eyes. I learn to love what he loves. I learn to force myself to rest in him (paradox?) when I am lonely. or self-conscious. or doubting. I practice peace and patience. and I learn how to be present in every scene of my life, remembering that it is only by his grace that I am able to live it. and then I live.

october. apple picking playlist.

2010-11-01T22:48:00.006-04:00

this time last year I was frantically trying to keep pace with my second month in DC and completely forgot to notice how awesome fall on the east coast is. but not this year. this year I am drinking pumpkin spice lattes and hiking through fallen leaves and carving pumpkins and eating butternut squash soup like it is going out of style. this year I am going to rejoice in the best season of all the seasons, in, what very well could be, the best month of all the months. and I am going to construct my perfect apple picking (among other fall festivities) playlist. october is tragically under rated.

(also, the theme over at nablopomo for november is...nothing! this lack of theme means that I might actually have a shot at posting once a day for a full month. here's hoping.)

1. myriad harbour - the new pornographers (for when things need to be loud)

2. vito's ordination song - sufjan stevens (for when things need to be quiet)

3. brother sport - animal collective (for when I am steeped in wonder)

4. portland is leaving - rocky votolato (for when I am steeped in melancholy)

5. one of these things first - nick drake (for tree climbing)

6. heartbeats - josé gonzález (for leaves falling and crunching)

7. changing colours - great lake swimmers (for when everything is changing)

8. service bell - grizzly bear and feist (for when everything is staying the same)

9. always like this - bombay bicycle club (for traveling)

10. all my days - alexi murdoch (for staying home)

welcome fall.

2010-10-24T00:23:00.016-04:00

how I've missed you. you are the best season of all the seasons.

we will celebrate your crisp air free of summer humidity. we will frolic in orchards and climb trees and eat apples until we get sick. we will wear scarves and boots and hats and we will listen to perfect fall music like nickel creek and iron and wine and nick drake. maybe also some great lake swimmers and of course josé gonzález.

today was a day full of:

fall trees.

freshly picked apples.

beautiful friends.

and also - a donkey.

september.

2010-10-03T08:39:00.002-04:00

1. times like these - foo fighters (for a brand new sky)

2. my rights versus yours - the new pornographers (for a new day rising)

3. garden - needtobreathe (for knowing the one who takes my fear)

4. river constintine - jars of clay (for knowing the one who knows me)

5. fierce flawless - ani difranco (for courage and confidence)

6. I believe in symmetry - bright eyes (for the end of summer)

7. blue turning gray - clap your hands say yeah (for the beginning of fall)

8. career opportunities - the clash (for working!)

9. elevator love letter - stars (for working too much)

10. dance anthem of the 80s - regina spektor (for dance parties. what else?)

painting.

2010-09-23T23:56:00.006-04:00

I feel like painting my desk.
but I cannot choose a color.
I am too indecisive and too noncommittal.
what does this say about me?
I am a little worried that my inability to choose a paint color is just the beginning.

I need to make a decision.
I need to paint my desk.

oh dear.

the metro.

2010-09-14T19:42:00.006-04:00

for a girl from the west who only rode public transportation when she was headed to saturday market and didn't want to drive over the fremont bridge, riding DC's underground transit system was an exciting prospect when I first moved to the city. now I ride the metro to work everyday. sounds fun, right? yeah, not always.

my roommate just showed me this video, which is becoming quite popular on youTube at the moment. so for all my friends out west (the 5 that read this, at least) who want to know what the metro is like, please watch this. it is terribly funny. and also totally true. every word. I promise.

also, if you combine this video with a post I wrote back when I first moved here you will get a pretty accurate picture of my life as of late. just make sure you add point #7 - working 10 hour days does not make you a workaholic - it makes you normal.

august.

2010-08-08T18:42:00.023-04:00

so much happened this month. new jobs. new roommates. new everything. but then I went to montana for this spunky girl's wedding and I was reminded of one thing that remains constant. when everything around me is spinning, it is this small group of people who always give me peace. they bring me back to myself. they remind me that I am loved and they remind me who I am. it sounds terrifically cliché. but if you can't be cliché with people who are more like soul mates than friends when can you be?

so in a time when I don't know which way is up. here is a list dedicated to the one weekend in august that helped everything make sense again.

1. yankee bayonet (I will be home then) - the decemberists (for the pangs of melancholy watching hellos and goodbyes at the airport)

2. sprawl II (mountains beyond mountains) - arcade fire (for the relief of getting out of the sprawl and into that fresh mountain air)

3. passenger seat - death cab for cutie (for the peace of driving through the night and being able to see the stars)

4. fresh feeling - the eels (for the love that is josh and angela)

5. sweet disposition - the temper trap (for the pure sense of elation and possibility of driving with the windows down)

6. the perpetual self, or "what would saul alinsky do?" - sufjan stevens (for the unbridled joy of jumping on hotel beds)

july.

2010-08-01T17:37:00.007-04:00

july was a sprint. so much change stuffed into 31 short days, with what feels like a completely new life spilling over the edges. now summer is fading away and I am running on empty. I am a bit overwhelmed and a bit shell-shocked. but I am full of joy. and I am grateful that God's plan always blows my own out of the water. and I am surprisingly peaceful. because, of everything that happened in july, the best part was learning how to make peace with all the things I can't control.

1. the district sleeps alone tonight - the postal service (for making peace with staying right where I am)

2. high and dry - radiohead (for making peace with being left)

3. song for myla goldberg - the decemberists (for making peace with growing up - but not feeling grown up.

4. bombs bombs away - the sounds (for making peace with being overwhelmed so much of the time)

5. road to joy - bright eyes (for making peace with my complete lack of control)

6. raksit leila - mashrou' leila (for making peace with feeling lost in translation)

7. the skin of my yellow country teeth - clap your hands say yeah (for making peace with change)

in between.

2010-07-18T18:24:00.025-04:00

I apologize in advance for the length of this post. it was never my intention to have a blog that is a chore to read. and I truly hope this post is not that way. it’s just that so much has happened. so much that I wish I could sit down with you over coffee and talk about. but this will have to suffice. so read as long as you are willing. hopefully the distance between us – whether it be 2800 miles or 20 – will seem a little less consequential. I promise the next post will be short and sweet. knowing me, it will probably be some sort of list.

the past month of my life has seemed to be this surreal dream that I have moved far too quickly through. and yet, with everything that has happened – with all the waiting – so much of it seemed to pass painfully slow.

one month ago life was one seemingly unanswerable question mark. 31 days later, the next two years seem decided. it is as if I have stepped into a completely different life – one I had much less control in choosing than I ever thought I would. good thing I am learning how to let go of things. it has been a month of doubt and faith and waiting. so much waiting. and what I found out is that God is ironic in a beautiful sort of way.

exactly one month ago – seriously, I checked my calendar – I sent in an application to be the events and development coordinator at the trinity forum. without going into all the details, I knew that although the organization did not meet the exact criteria in regards to what I am passionate about, the job would be a perfect fit. and although I was somewhat lacking on the experience side I knew that, if given the chance, I could do the job well. I sent in my application on a friday and interviewed the following tuesday. then I waited. and I tried to be patient. and I prayed. a lot. I prayed that God would teach me to remain steadfast in joy. I prayed that he would grant me strength to trust in his timing and not my own. I prayed for peace in knowing that he is enough for me and that he is good. all the time. and then becca came to visit.

becca. my soul-mate and sister and best friend. my link to a community that loves me in a way that is honest and authentic and selfless. even though they are 3,000 miles away. I wish I could express to this community – I truly hope I have loved you well enough for you to know who you are – how important you are. you have protected me from fire – literally and figuratively. you have not abandoned me. you have kept my in your prayers and your hearts. without you I would not have survived so much of my life. without you, life would not be beautiful. words cannot express how you have saved me and built the foundation of who I am. but if you were here – in the middle of this starbucks across the country – you would see the tears I am shamelessly crying and hopefully you would know.

so there we were. becca was here. and I was waiting. and thinking to myself that moving back to portland seemed like the best idea ever. after one week of feeling loved and accepted and beginning to re-learn myself, she left and I decided that when my internship ended in october I was leaving. after all the fighting I had done with myself – not wanting to give up on this dream that had not turned out quite as I’d planned – I made peace with the fact that I just needed to be back where I belonged. plus, after almost two weeks since my interview without hearing a word, I was about 99% sure I would not be getting the job at the trinity forum. I told you God was ironic.

two days after becca left I got the job. in the middle of reveling in my decision to move back to Portland, God’s plan came through loud and clear. the perfect job was mine and I was in shock. in between ecstasy and despair. I called my family and two of my closest friends. and then I cried. I had been praying that God would open a door one way or another and that he would give me the strength to walk through whichever one it was. now the door was not only open, it was surrounded in flashing lights with a yellow-brick road leading toward it. I spent the next two days praying that this was the right step, even though I knew it was. I made peace – again – with the fact that I was right where God wanted me. I got the call on Friday. I accepted on Monday. my first day will be July 26th, five days before I turn 23. I am so excited to take this next step and after two days of training I know this job will change my life in more ways than one.

needless to say, this month has been one of transition into stability. suddenly, I have a real-life, job. and I am looking for an apartment. and I am paying bills. and I am an adult – kind of. but I still feel like I am in transition. and really, the past year has felt this way. I feel in between. in between college and career. in between passions and obligations. in between portland and dc. in between authentic community and a feeling of being so very alone. in between knowing myself and losing myself. I am in transition, always waiting for something to start or change. always waiting for the other shoe to drop. but won’t it always be this way? I guess so. until I get to heaven, of course.

it is weird to realize how much I have learned in just a few short weeks. I could make this post unbearably long and tell you every single detail. or I can just mention the most important one. I learned how to rest in God. I realized that so much of my life has been spent relying on the people God has placed in my life. he put them there to teach me how to trust in him through trusting in them. but somewhere along in the process I stalled. this community that I love more than my own life – sometimes it is my crutch. instead of relying on the only one who is deserving of my trust, I depend on others or on myself. but the past year has proven this assumption utterly flawed. I have not been able rely on others, and most of the time I have not been able to rely on myself. I have felt alone and bewildered and insignificant. I have felt so lonely as I longed for friends so far away. but now I realize that of course I am lonely. I will always be lonely until I leave this fallen world. I could have one million friends and the love of my life and I would still be lonely. my heart will only feel at home and at peace when I am with the one who created me. and once I gave myself permission to be lonely I felt the weight of it leave me. finally, after a year of searching, I have found myself. of course, I was in the last place I looked and in the only place I could be.

but I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God;
I trust in God's unfailing love for ever and ever.
I will praise you forever for what you have done;
in your name I will hope,
for your name is good.
psalm 52:8-9

june.

2010-07-16T00:33:00.001-04:00

let's not talk about how late this is. I promise the next one will be on time. maybe.

1. automatique - blackalicious and floetry (for when all the things I take for granted suddenly seem so precious)

2. the bagman's gambit - the decemberists (for when I wish my washington d.c. was more exciting than crowded, smelly metro rides)
*seriously. these are some of the best lyrics ever. seriously. and the cacophony of music towards the end? brilliant if you ask me.

3. waiting - shiny toy guns (for waiting. and waiting. and waiting.)

4. the cure for pain - jon foreman (for when I am steeped in melancholy)

5. her morning elegance - oren lavie (for when I am steeped in daydreams)
**lovely lovely music video.

6. tisbury lane - mae (for when I suddenly feel like I am back in high school)

7. the chain - ingrid michaleson (for when "row row row your boat" just doesn't cut it)

8. hello, I love you - the doors (for remembering jim morrison)

orange line to vienna.

2010-07-15T21:05:00.006-04:00

I have just had dinner with a friend in town from Portland and I have been bemoaning the nature of DC citizens. this friend of mine - from the great city of urban parks and microbrews and the friendliest people you will ever meet - asks me why I am so adverse to the city I live in. I sigh and spout off a short list. no one smiles. they drive like maniacs and honk for no reason. they will run you over if you stop on the escalator. he asks me if I am turning into a local. a look of horror crosses my face. are you kidding me? their lack of common decency astounds me. the very last thing I would want to be known as is a DC local. harsh I know. and a vast generalization. it's funny how God proves you wrong sometimes.

after saying goodbye to my friend, I walk down to the metro. my head down. my headphones in. my smile gone. I look up at the schedule and see that my train is not coming for another 7 minutes. my exasperation continues as an inner monologue. what am I doing here? sweat begins to run down my spine. 95 degrees and so freaking humid. I didn't realize I moved into the middle of a swamp. the train finally arrives. I step into the car and the air-conditioning is on. for once. I have to squeeze in next to a girl in a white dress belted with a black belt I almost bought the other day. she makes no movement to create more room for me. across from her is another girl with large sunglasses loosely holding her hair out of her face. our eyes connect but she does not smile. typical I guess. next to her is a man in a wheelchair that seems much to big for him. his shriveled body is swallowed by it, but as he strains to hold onto the pole in front of him I notice the strength in his arms. his muscles surprise me until I realize they are his main form of transportation.

the train begins to move and the two girls rest their hands on the back of the man's wheelchair to steady themselves. well that's rude. the train jerks slightly and the muscles on his arms tighten as he grips the pole. oddly enough, so do the muscles on the arms of the girls. he slowly turns to the one with the sunglasses and smiles sheepishly. she does not look him but focuses on holding on to the chair. suddenly I realize what is going on. the old wheelchair does not have breaks. they are not holding onto it to steady themselves, but to keep it from moving. this must be their job. there is no way they're doing it just to be nice. and yet. my head turns up from the book I'm reading. I pause my ipod and tuck my headphones into my purse. the corners of my mouth threaten to smile.

the train lumbers on and in between each jolt and shudder, the girls quickly stretch their fingers and shake off their hands that are cramping from gripping his chair so tightly. the man holds onto the pole, his muslces twitching. the three of them are not touching. they do not know each other from a stranger on the street. they do not make eye contact and they do not talk. ignoring their good deed and the reception of it. they are connected in silence by pole and chair and general humanity.

we begin to pull into the ballston station. the girl in the white dress holds onto the pole and holds onto the chair and leans down so she is at eye level with the man. you said you were getting off at ballston, right? he nods. the doors open and the girls struggle to qucikly turn his laborious wheelchair and push it out the doors. there is no way that chair will get off the train in time. I dart in front of one of the doors. a skinny man in his sixties jumps up and pushes the chair from the side, dislodging it from behind one of the poles. the black belt I almost bought falls off the girl in the white dress and lands on the floor. the handful of younger, stronger men sitting down reading john grisham novels make no move to help.

suddenly the chair takes a leap off the car. I reach back and pick up the belt I almost bought. the girl in the white dress takes it from me and we smile triumphantly. somehow the girl with the sunglasses ends up behind the wheelchair instead of on the train. I am pretty sure this is not her stop. the doors begin to close. resigning herself to the next train, she braces herself behind the wheelchair and begins to push as people stream past her, annoyed that she is blocking part of the platform. her voice is the last thing I hear before the doors seal shut and the car lurches forward. now let's find that elevator. the girl in the white dress and I look at each other and smile.

the train arrives at my stop. I step off into the sweltering night air and dial the number of my Portland friend. okay, maybe becoming a DC local wouldn't be SO bad. this city is starting to grow on me.

peace out.

2010-06-22T21:02:00.009-04:00

this week. well, this week has been one for the books. more on that later but for now here's a nice little list to straighten things out a bit.

peaceful moments for a week like this one:

1. laying in the grass. drifting in and out of sleep as the sun shines on my face. letting go of all my fear of uv rays and knowing that vitamin d is a beautiful thing. it's true and you know it.

2. water. in any form, really. sitting by a big body of it. drinking it. watching it fall. water is just pretty great.

3. being hugged by rachel, my peter pan soulmate.

4. being hugged by becca, my never-been-kissed soulmate. she may have a husband who kisses her all the time now. it doesn't matter. she's still my soulmate.

5. drinking a soy white chocolate mocha at my favorite portland coffee house. I'm telling you. if heaven has a signature drink, this is it.

6. listening to erik satie's gymnopédies. especially no. 1. utterly beautiful. in the way that something can be so stunning you almost can't function.

7. reading the history of love for what seems like the hundredth time. and still loving it just as much.

8. listening to a really great episode of this american life. like this one. or this one. or especially this one.

9. daffodils in a mason jar in my room.

10. walking. slowly and without destination. taking it all in.

11. talking to mindy on the phone. just hearing her voice calms me down.

12. praying like I mean it. and finally learning to trust that God is good. all the time.

may.

2010-06-08T20:51:00.004-04:00

okay. I know this is late. terribly terribly late. but may was such a crazy month, especially the last part. visiting with good friends. finishing up with fellows. vacationing on the coast. touristing with the parents. so many great things to be thankful for.

and now it's time to be an adult. suddenly, I am worrying about bills and health insurance and everything in between. and all I can keep thinking is when did I decide to grow up? I don't remember ever agreeing to this.

1. to be young (is to be sad, is to be high) - ryan adams (for when growing up seems to be suddenly upon me)
*this is an amazing recording but the first few minutes are talking. skip to 2:50 and enjoy.

2. the world at large - modest mouse (for feeling the current of the atlantic ocean pull at my feet like gravity)

3. roll on - dntel (for when everything is changing)

4. sweet thing - van morrison (for the bittersweet end)

5. 32 flavors - ani difranco (for when I feel like a poster girl with no poster)

6. goods (all in your head) - mates of state (for dancing with unadulterated and purely joyful abandon)

7. say hello - rosie thomas (for the sweetness of smiling)

8. airplanes - local natives (for remembering what I love. and loving it even more.)

9. her morning elegance - oren lavie (for waking up to sunlight and the smell of blueberry waffles)

10. jacksonville - sufjan stevens (for driving with the windows down and the wind rushing up my arm and down my neck. summer has officially arrived.)

things i've broken

2010-05-19T00:26:00.008-04:00

(idea thanks to this lovely little listing site)

1. the chain on my favorite circle necklace. given to me by my favorite adriana.
2. way too many promises than I'd care to admit.
3. my wrist. in fourth grade. while recklessly racing around Lookout Point Circle on my bicycle.
4. my other wrist. in sixth grade. while skiing down West Bowl and almost being run over by a snowboarder. his board went over my skis. so lucky it was only a wrist.
5. my heart.
6. two nalgene bottles. they say they are indestructible. not true.
7. the one remaining porcelain teacup from my childhood tea set. it had pretty pink roses on it. it survived a fire. but not my fumbling hands.
8. my mom's favorite christmas ornament when I was nine. we got in a fight. I was mad. so I threw it.
9. 4 phones, 3 iPods, and a computer. sometimes technology and i don't get along too well.
10. trust. and faith a few times too.
11. my favorite little mirror from my dress-up days. I was convinced I would have bad-luck for 7 long years. lots of tears were shed.
12. countless fortune cookies. probably one of the only things I really like to break apart.

if I'm being honest.

2010-05-18T20:44:00.018-04:00

okay. it's time for full disclosure. even if it's only with the handful of people who actually read this.

jyndia just left. after a two-day whirlwind of adventures, in the end, it feels like she was only here for an afternoon. it’s weird to have an old friend visit you in a new place. all of a sudden, your two worlds merge together and at first, you are a bit shell shocked. everything feels a bit surreal. but it’s even more odd to feel like even with this great friend, you cannot find yourself. I thought she would get here and I would immediately fall back into my old self – the one I used to know so well. but now she is gone, and I feel just as lost as I ever did. she noticed it. of course she noticed it. I was holding back. trying to figure out how to mesh these two lives together, just for a few days. because, if I’m being honest, the girl I am now is so much different than the girl I was nine months ago. and if I’m being even more honest, this new girl is not one I like too well. I am selfish and sad and argumentative. I have always been stubborn, but now, sometimes I am just plain mean. I am more insecure than ever. I have hit creative roadblocks everywhere and I have become numb to them. I have been so worried about what others think of me that it has made it hard not to judge others for judging me. I have been so preoccupied with fitting in (or not fitting in) that I completely forgot how to be who I am. I have completely lost the girl I once was. and I kind of liked her.

and as much as I would like to blame it on other people or this new place, I can’t. I have to accept that my life is changing. I am entering something new, and I have to embrace it. like a dog that pulls at its leash, fighting to get somewhere it is not meant to go, I have to accept that all my straining is useless and will only end up making me lose my breath. for so long I have been fighting to get back to some semblance of the joy I once had – in Portland, with my closest friends, being known by people who love me and know how to love me well – all the while fighting against what I might be able to love if I let myself. but how do I do it? how do I start all over again?

for better or worse, I am learning. and it is so hard so much of the time. all I can do is pray. pray that God reminds me to be content. pray that He reminds me to be thankful. pray that He teaches me to trust people when it is seems impossibly impossible. pray that He knows what He’s doing – especially when I have no idea.

april. hip to the hop.

2010-05-11T23:06:00.015-04:00

this month was in a word, fresh. the sun was shining like crazy. and thanks, in large part to the lovely stephen michael metzger, my inner hip-hop nerd came out in full-force. maybe you've never met her. most people haven't. I keep her hidden most of the time, because let's be honest, she can't handle some of the stuff that's on the radio today.

but then, thanks (as usual) to my friend with the best blog ever I found this boombastic guy, and all of a sudden, my world was swirling with lyrics on top of beats so beautiful I almost couldn't function. and all of a sudden, this girl who has been gone for so long came back. and she peeks out so rarely, I thought I would give her an entire month to work with. plus, the earth is turning green again which always puts her a bit more at ease. so in honor of steve, and in great appreciation of warm weather: carrie's quintessential hip-hop playlist.

1. from the outside - deepspace 5 (for when I need fresh air)

2. love - mos def (for when I need light)

3. go ahead in the rain - a tribe called quest (for when the possibilities are endless)

4. know this - the remnant (for when everything seems wrong)

5. feel that way - gift of gab (for when everything seems right)

6. blazing arrow - blackalicious (for when I miss the town I grew up in)

7. will not be sold - poems and dust (for when I am full of uncertainty)

8. eye know - de la soul (for when I am full of joy)

9. the seed (2.0) - the roots (for when I can't help but dance)

10. everything is everything - lauryn hill (for when I can't help but wonder)

11. take a minute - k'naan (for when I need perspective)

habit.

2010-05-10T23:09:00.002-04:00

there's this lovely little blog I've been visiting everyday for the past few months. it teaches me how to celebrate little bits of my life. it's been over there on my side bar for quite some time, but I don't think I am giving it its proper due. I sort of feel like I am cheating you out of some incredible joy. so go check out habit. right now. everyday. I promise you won't regret it.