Grams

She was my Grams. Amazing. I honestly hope that I will be blessed with her soft way of loving, craziness and sense of adventure. If I could greet one day the way she greeted a stranger- I would live a changed life.

Come Home

Home is a place where music bounces like candle wicks and laughter flows out of tall bottles.

I feel like I am coming home to glimpses of myself when Joe Purdy reminds me to the love the rain the most when it stops, when Junik wine soaks into my tongue and a Volcano candle flickers shadows. It is the brief hour or two where I sink into the rhythm my mind and body have craved for a week. I come home, in my home as I make it a home.

It is no coincedience that my soul feels at home the most when I am relaxed in a home. The envirnoment reflects to the inside- the inside moves through the envirnoment. A reliant flow.

And yet I have in the back of my mind, in the depths of my heart a longing for a real home. For the place where generations sit at tables with beggars and kings. Where the feast does not end and the celebration is cleansing. The music is pure and breathtaking, legends will sing with buskers. Wine will be made from the perfect vineyard. I will be full, I will rest.

Until that day I will try to make a home and try to make a space that allows glimpses of rest and grace.

The Intentional Walk

I had an ongoing conversation with a friend in college about whether the intention or the result of any action mattered most. I always sided with intention, he always sided with result. We agreed we could live in harmony as long as we stayed on our own side, never holding each other accountable to the opposite side but always to our own.

Lately I have been holding the idea of intentionality with more depth than before. It seems to have become something that holds me in, keeps me safe and is a blessing. But what happens when the ropes become too tight, the thoughts too thought out, the event too planned? Where does that lifestyle let me heart roam and my creative side thrive?

And so I intentionally walk down an unknown road. The road might be called "graduate school" "living on my own" "marathon" or "self-actualization" it really doesn't matter. There is intentionality in all of these decisions in my life, now it comes to the humbling point of accepting that no matter how intentional I am as I head out- I have no idea what the result will be.

New Home

I have been so blessed to live in many types of homes with many types of people. Those memories are held firmly in my heart and have created a great foundation for what I believe a home is.

Now I am living in a different type of home, my own home. I moved back to Seattle and am now living on my own in a treehouse-ish studio. Everyone that I had talked to who has lived on their own says it is one of the most beneficial things they have done for themselves. It has only been a month, so I honestly cannot tell you it has changed my life but I can tell you it is the right place, the right time and the right frame of mind for this time in my life.

My hope for this place is that it would be my refuge. A place where I have space to move through life but also gain energy I can give to others. I want to practice the art of hospitality as described by Nouwen- the ability to provide a place where someone can utterly be themselves. I hope it is a refuge for others as well. That they find peace within this little place.

Welcome home:

Living area
(lesson- learning how to fill my time- I am doing somethings that really need to get done but for the most part I am reading and writing, picture making and picture drawing)

"The Nook"
(lesson- rest, rest, rest- go to bed early, fall asleep reading a book, rest)

The Porch
(lesson- trust fall, let yourself breathe before you come inside, trust that when you sit in the hammock it will hold you)

The Kitchen
(lesson- my dishes stay dirty, my pots and pans are well loved. I like to create)

Be Present

There was a time in my life that I wrote those two simple words on my hand everyday. It was there to remind me, to snap me back into reality, to focus on living into that day.

Lately it has been hard to be present. It is hard to fully live in the now when both the past and future are so uncertain. It is easier for me to untangle the messy past or solve the future question marks than to answer my mind and heart's question "where are you? how are you?"

In the past few months I have begun to learn how to slow down my wandering thoughts and let my true self speak. It has been painful to come to the reality that maybe I don't have a quick and honest answer to how I am and where I am. But as I slow down, as I practice moments of being present I get this unbelievable sense of relief- like I have met myself, if only for a moment.

Being present when...

I am reading a letter from a dear friend

at the most beautiful wedding

having dinner on the deck with just James, Dave, Jack, Mason and Nora

creating something that is so delicious

cutting into my own creation

Live A Little

Life Goal # 6: Tomatina:

Pure Joy

Life Goal # 20: Go Skydiving when I am 90; possibly with my grandkids.

Amazing

Company and Corn

This past Monday my dear friend came to the beach with me after work. It was a joy to share with her my daily routine since I have moved out here. Aly has continued to be one of those friends that slows my life down and lets me take life on from a different perspective.

My dad has also been here, spending his week off reading and resting to no end. I am very thankful I have someone who teaches me the art of resting and who celebrates in discovering new knowledge.

So I have been in great company this week, feeling supported and loved by those around me. It has also helped me adjust to the idea of entering back into community by moving back into the city at some point. It is becoming more clear to me that I am not meant to live in this form of isolation forever. But for now I am still here, still living out one of my dreams and eating an amazing corn salad while I am at it.

(I'm sorry I don't have a picture of the actual salad)

Fresh Corn Salad
from "the barefoot contessa cookbook" by Ina Garten
5 EARS corn, shucked
1/2 CUP small diced red onion
3 TABLESPOONS cider vinegar
3 TABLESPOONS good olive oil
1/2 TEASPOON kosher salt
1/2 TEASPOON fresh ground pepper
1/2 CUP chiffonade fresh basil leaves

Boil the corn and cut it off the cob. (I learned that you should run the cobs under really cold water right after you take them out of the pot. This keeps the color bright and stops the cooking process. Who would have known?... ok it is pretty obvious)
Toss everything together.
Serve.

This salad was accompanied by salmon and olive bread, white wine and champagne. It was amazing and made me believe in summer's little joys.

the classic

there are a few reasons why Dutch Babies are near and dear to my heart.

1) as a child we used to have them for dinner- it was like the heavens opened up and rained pure joy whenever Dutch Babies were served.

2) we would eat them at Beyond- the first morning I came down to the table and someone told me we were eating Dutch Babies I honestly felt like I had a new home.

3) they are cheap and easy- to this day I always know I can make a Dutch Baby because they don't take a lot of time and I always have the ingredients.

4) I think I can tell a lot about a person by what they put on their Dutch Baby. (I am a fan of lemon juice and powder sugar, some like peanut butter others like syrup).

Dutch Babies
preheat oven to 425
a glass pie baking dish or small square baking dish
put some butter in the dish & place in oven
1/2 cup milk
1/2 flour
2 eggs
combine all ingredients in medium bowl
take baking dish out of oven and distribute melted butter, set aside and let cool
with an electric mixer, mix ingredients for about 2 minutes
pour into dish, place in oven
bake for 15-17 minutes



Enjoy!

4 in a Picture

Heart Breaker

This week I was in Washington Dulles Airport in Washington D.C. trying to find my lost luggage when a man behind me stepped to the counter and tried to explain that he did not know where his bags where. The woman behind the counter was very rude and quickly dismissed him by saying "I can't help you, you came on an international flight".

It was so clear to me that this was an honest man who did not have a bad bone in him- I could see desperation written all over his face. I ran after him and asked if I could help. He explained to me that he was from Senegal and pointed to the customs doors. He did not know where his bag was and he pointed to another airline ticket for a departure to Texas in 2hrs.

I took him to the airlines he was scheduled to depart on and asked if they could help us locate his bag or at least check him in for his flight to Dallas. I wanted to make sure he got to where he was going even if his bags were days behind him. At that counter the woman explained to me that his ticket had been changed and he now owed $700 in change fees if he wanted to get on the flight to Dallas. This is the point where my throat tightened and the tears started to well up in my eyes. I grabbed my phone and typed in "$700" and through a complicated mess of hand gestures explained that his tickets was switched and now he had to pay. He opened his wallet and had $100 and that was all.

I was on the verge of tears but I could not cry because I had to speak for this man.

So I told the woman this is crazy, he lost his bags and now he also has to pay $700!! I don't think anyone should be treated with this much disrespect- sure I understand that the airlines cannot find his bag right away or wave a $700 fee, but you also don't let a helpless foreigner fend for himself while you look up at the sky!!

I figured out he had come to the United States to visit his cousin, he had his phone number written on a piece of paper in his wallet. So I gave him all the change I had and small bills, lead him to the phone and said your cousin will be able to help (I hoped and prayed).

I have been in this position before. I was 12 when I traveled to Switzerland and tried to cross over to Italy and a stranger had to pay for me. I remember getting off a train in France in January and realizing at it pulled away- that my family had not gotten off. A man in the train station made sure I was on the next train. I remember being told I had a missed a flight back to the states and the airlines representative got me onto the next one.

These are times my desperation reached across language and cultural barriers and were meet with helpful faces on the other side. I hope and pray I was one of those people for this man. That my small change and teary smile were a comfort for him. It was one of those moments were my heart broke open a bit and I was thankful to see what was inside.

Heal to be free

I feel like a fraud if I use someone's words to describe how I feel. Right now my words are not seasoned enough to describe where I am or how I feel.

The Slip
By Wendell Berry

The river takes the land, and leaves nothing.
Where the great slip gave way in the bank
and an acre disappeared, all human plans
dissolve. An awful clarification occurs
where a place was. Its memory breaks
from what is known now, begins to drift.
Where cattle grazed and trees stood, emptiness
widens the air for birdflight, wind, and rain.
As before the beginning, nothing is there.
Human wrong is in the cause, human
ruin in the effect–but no matter;
all will be lost, no matter the reason.
Nothing, having arrived, will stay.
The earth, even, is like a flower, so soon
passeth it away. And yet this nothing
is the seed of all–the clear eye
of Heaven, where all the worlds appear.
Where the imperfect has departed, the perfect
begins its struggle to return. The good gift
begins again its descent. The maker moves
in the unmade, stirring the water until
it clouds, dark beneath the surface,
stirring and darkening the soul until pain
perceives new possibility. There is nothing
to do but learn and wait, return to work
on what remains. Seed will sprout in the scar.
Though death is in the healing, it will heal.

Why I run

I made a promise to myself that I would either run a marathon or climb Rainier while my grandpa is alive. I picked the marathon...I know I can run.

But it is Sunday morning, early enough for the heat to not yet get started. I have nine miles ahead of me, enough to make my stomach hurt and doubt myself.

So I ask myself, why am I doing this? Why do I run?

Because I can. I think it is a huge blessing to have a healthy body that can be pushed, broken down and built again. I run because I need that time to process, to continually think about something, to run that matter into the road. I run because there is a strong desire to put distance between me and my past. I run because it feels so good when I am done.

In October I will run for grandpa. He was in the Marine Corps. during WWII and was during while serving. There is still something about Grandpa that is a Marine. He is tough, it runs in his blood. He has taught me how to toughen up, how to say "damn it, I am going to do it" he has taught me to believe in all outcomes. But he is also a tender man, one who cares for his kids and grandchildren, wants the best for them and will listen to your story.

And so even as I acknowledge right now that I normally run for myself, I run to get farther from something, I recognize that in October, I will run towards something, towards the person I am which has been greatly influenced by Grandpa.

Letting them in

This morning at 5:45 I heard a noise I could not place.
Not waves, not the coffee maker, not a knock at the door.
So I had to open my eyes.

There was bird in my room!
I little brown bird flying into the window over and over.
I quickly got up and closed the hallway door, grabbed a towel.

What happened next might have been a dream...it was 5:45am

I calmly and slowly approached the bird
telling it, "It's ok, it's ok" as if the bird was completely aware of what I was saying.
It began to stop flying into the window and then it sat on the sill calmly waiting.
I came closer and it jumped onto the towel and just sat there!
It was if the bird realized I was trying to help it. Once I got outside he flew away!

I know it is just a bird and I really did not do much but if you have ever tried to get a bird
out of your house it usually involves more than one person, a broom and some careful planning.

Later this morning on the ferry, I realized how much I am like that bird;
flying into the same window over and over
desperately trying to return to where I came from
trying to get out.

Grace, hope and strength come in the form of a towel
I just have to trust the One saying
"it's ok" enough to jump on.

She needs...

Wide open spaces

Space is a word that seems to have crept into my vocabulary these days.
I mean physical space but I really mean real space;
the type of space that tells my soul "come on let's go, let's run".

Journal entry-
"Fully let go-- make space in your mind and heart before desiring someone
to move in. There is no greater joy than to know the city buildings of your
heart have been leveled in order to make way for a beautiful field you can run in."

Mile High Weekend

She was gracefully blissful the whole weekend

I kept using the word "classic"

Those blues will forever be one of my favorite sights

Cerissa and Jordan got married too!

We finally got to meet Logan! He is precious, absolutely precious.

It was amazing for Lisa and I to finally meet him because it felt like yesterday we were talking to him in his mom's belly.

joy.

Logan eats a ton, I had to see it for myself.

The weekend was crazy but there was such joy all around. I am honored to have stood at Lauren and Aaron's wedding. Their love for each other is so honoring of God, their joy is peaceful and their courage is admirable. There is no telling where they will go or what they will do but I feel blessed to know I will be invited along.

Cerissa and Jordan have had the journey, I sat in a deep respect for them as we caught up on life. There are very few people who are as patient as Jordan and very few people who are as loveable as Cerissa. Logan is beautiful, I cannot wait to watch him grow and to watch his parents grow with him.

For Bethany- The Everyday

I am sorry it had taken me a really long time to post these pictures. You asked me to show you what my everyday looks like so here is a brief snapshot. I owe you beers or a book, you decide.

I wake up at 6:10, right now it is brilliantly bright at that time.
I love mornings.

I get to wear fun shoes and jeans to work. During the year that I have been working downtown, I have noticed you can tell a lot about a person by what shoes they wear to work. Sounds superficial but I think it is true.

I run when I can. There is something very therapeutic for me about running. I need to put miles between me and my day, sometimes miles between me and my life.

I try to get a bunch of flowers every so often at the market. I need beauty and freshness in my life. There are very few little joys that I enjoy most than carrying flowers on the bus ride home.

I love music, especially right now for some reason. Anyways, this is my play list, it is accompanied very well with a glass of wine and a sit on the porch around 7:30pm.

I have started to do more cooking, or just chopping veggies and considering it salsa. I have realized that it is very hard for me to come home from my day at work and do nothing, so creating and cooking has helped me transition into my home life. I wish I could do it more though.

So that it a typical day, wake up, work, workout, little joys, music and food.
I like my life.

(thanks for helping me see how I can capture it)

jazz/blues

my heart works in the ways of blues

my soul lives in the motion of jazz

it is hard to find my song, but I keep my toes tapping.

cheeseburger in paradise

I cannot tell you why, but cheeseburgers are one of my favorite "food groups".

Maybe it was the fact that my parents promised my brother and me Dick's cheeseburgers after church if we went to Sunday School. Maybe it is the memories of cheeseburgers by the bon fires or the fact that they are just plain good. They could possibly be my stomach's way of convincing me a Jimmy Buffet lifestyle is my true calling (my fondness for Margaritas would also support this calling).

My brother taught me the "art" of making a real burger. I like mine with garlic, onion, cilantro, lean beef, pepper jack cheese and Worcesterire sauce. Mix it all, leaving the onions in large chunks. Grill it, put the cheese on top and away you go to paradise.

There is something very good about making food, about cutting, chopping and cooking. It reminds me that food is delicate enough to be placed in almost any form but powerful enough to make me weak in my knees.

So as I sat on my front steps tonight, eating my cheeseburger, I accepted that I was simply happy. Who knew that the simplest pleasures would become some of my greatest joys!

Now about those Margaritas...

My Mountain is...

I have to start somewhere so I might as well start with what is inside (I mean, what else would you except from me?). Inside there is a mountain I am learning to climb.

I am taking with me...

a desire to understand what my mountain is made of
a willingness to acknowledge I am climbing,
have been climbing
and will continue to climb

My Mountain: Fear of acknowledge all that I am

The mountain project is my way of holding myself accountable to continuing to study psychology and practice photography while I take these years away from school. Every one has a mountain, a struggle and ultimately a hope that they will get to the top. My mountain that I am "case studying" is my fear of fully accepting myself, acknowledging who I was created to be. There is no doubt in my mind that this journey is steep and precious, harsh and breathtaking but I am hoping it will be worth it, I am hoping that this project will prove to some that their mountain is beautiful.

He knows

These days my journal entries are far better than anything I would come up with on a computer. I have started to let the ink flow once again, my soul has a voice, like I want to say out loud "damn soul, welcome home, you have been gone for far too long."

Devo at Cafe Darte, April 14th

Matthew 10:26-30

"Everything will be brought to the light, everything has a plan, everything is KNOWN.

What is of value is your soul and God guards your soul with his knowledge. He knows you. I cannot interpret this as he knows my life- he knows exactly what I will do and why I will do it simply b/c he has planned it. I don't believe God carries a day planner.

He knows my life because he knows me.

As if it is someone who can finish your sentences, tell others what you would decide or be able to pick out an outfit because they know what looks good on you. It is his intimacy with me that makes Him know what path I will take, not because he has created the specific path."

It has been times like these with paper and ink that have shaped my thoughts, let me breathe, stretch and grow.