2014

Post Office Boxes

Such potential these little boxes hold

I’ve found a new love for post office boxes. Not the boring rows of metal doors at the more contemporary post office locations in town, but rather the old, glamorous, gilded metal boxes that take up hallways of space in our downtown post office. This building has been around since who knows when – I’d like to think it has history – I suppose it could have been built 20 years ago, but my goodness I just think I’m falling in love with that post office. What potential those boxes have – little doors full of secrets, and love letters, and handwritten notes that get flown across the country with a stamp. Maybe some magazines you look forward to every week, or perhaps too, these boxes contain boring things like bills and reminders to vote.

It doesn’t really matter what is actually in the box, but to me, they are starting to represent the ordinary in a beautiful package. We wait for this correspondence, and open the door, and peek with our big eyes and cram our little hands into mail boxes hoping for some connection with the world – that someone, somewhere, was intentionally trying to get a hold of me. Call me nostalgic, but I love snail mail, and I love connection with others – something that I feel is drastically missing for me right now. I guess I’m growing, my friends are moving, I’m getting married, and my tethers to things once so comfortable and familiar are changing. I’m being encouraged to make new connections, seek new sources, and tap into my own little golden box of secrets and waiting and promise of new, good things to come.

Why, you may ask, am I spending so much time at the post office? Well part of my job is to check our PO box for work – a small task that takes 2 to 3 minutes a week. But what is beautiful about this new ritual, is I get to conveniently take the walk 3 blocks down to the main building which takes me through the center of downtown and I get to interact with my community in a different way. Walk! You see so much more of this world. So this week, my beautiful things involve the post office. I set out today at about 3 pm.

Block number one – I pass a thrift shop which quite often displays its wares on the sidewalk – today a red velvet couch, a stroller from the 1980’s with a bright colorful pattern, and a sign that says “Hippies Use the Back Door” were going for a bargain. I have an odd fascination with other people’s stuff – someone, once upon a time loved that sign. What changed in their lives that made them want to give it up?

Block number two – I pass by the Catholic Elementary School just as school is being released. The bus is waiting, parents patiently make eye contact with their eager little ones, and five and six year olds in plaid skirts and polos rushed out of the doors while the church bells rang. I was not raised Catholic, but I do have a great respect for their traditions, and those chiming bells were beautiful noises as they mixed with the laughter of little ones almost ready to embrace summer in full. The beautiful brick building and stain glass windows gleamed in the afternoon heat.

Block number three – I passed the walking post woman on the way to the office – her basket on wheels full of other people’s lives. She smiled, I nodded, and we agreed that 84 degrees is a little bit warm for the end of May. A small interaction, so much potential.

As I walked through the doors of the main building to seek out our own PO box I was taken aback by the new security guard at the front entrance. He was checking ids, and names on packages, and seeing who you are before you get in line at a federal facility. A quick, abrupt reality check that the world we live in can be scary and dangerous and disheartening.

We saw the movie, “Noah” this weekend, which I highly recommend. I could go on and on about the movie – but that would take this post in a whole different direction. Instead, I really liked the message that the movie sends. The character Noah says, and I’m paraphrasing here, that we are given the choice to “focus our energies on the temptation of darkness” or we can pay attention to the hope and “the blessing of light”. Each day the world’s negativity, the threats, the inequality, the terror tempts me to dwell in darkness. Instead I want to choose the blessing of light – celebrate the ordinary, say thank you for routine, my afternoon walk, and the mystery of human connection. I set my eyes on the little golden boxes, got our mail, and headed back to work.

Heart Balm

Have you read the book “The Secret Life of Bees” by Sue Monk Kidd? You should. They recently made it into a movie, maybe a few years ago, but as always, the book is better.

In the book there is a character that is so compassionate she is haunted by the suffering of others. Her sisters have found a solution, and built her her own version of the biblical “wailing wall” in which this character writes down things she is distraught over. She spends a large amount of time processing and tucks the slips of papers into the little cracks to give them up to God, to the universe, to release herself from the incomprehensible amounts of pain that are in this world. Read the book to learn more about how her character copes with those questions we all brush over on a daily basis.

Sometimes, I can relate to that character. I’ve always had an emotional heart – a compassionate one that tugs and pulls and is pierced by things that don’t seem to bother others. I get frustrated at inequality, mad at injustice, and throw up huge, fist wailing questions to God and grapple with why such suffering is permissible. This questioning suffering, expansive compassion, and intuitiveness brings me closer to my creator – especially at times that don’t make sense. It’s led me to where I am in work, in relationship, and in life.

My heart, my friends, is an immense blessing, and an at times a curse as well. I am growing to nurture it, this hurting heart, to learn to apply metaphorical healing ointment, and expand my awareness to send light and love to those who are in pain at the moment. But today, I feel just like that character in the book. I found out someone I know – an acquaintance of someone I work with – lost their daughter this weekend, as she took her own life. Too, our neighbor lost his wife in one week, when a returning cervical cancer ravaged her body and took her home to heaven in seven days. It was a sad morning, and my heart hurts, and I don’t even know these people.

We think we are invincible, and at times we may be protected by shells of our own happiness, or carry a shield of “thank goodness that’s not my life.” But what happens when it does become you – when the phone rings, and you are the one scared, and you hurt, a little bit more than you imagine? I hope you turn to God, and start applying that heart salve.

Here are some things that I apply when my heart is hurting. Beauty among the mist, protection and soothing in confusion.

Coffee and biscotti – it fixes a lot of things – who doesn’t love a good cup of coffee. This, I think, goes back to my days of living in Tacoma, WA when the rain and the distance from home led me into a bit of a depression. But I lived for Biscotti day at the college cafe. It got me through.
Laughter – sometimes it feels unimaginable to turn that frown upside down, like it just isn’t possible. But turn on Jimmy Fallon, or watch Marcel the Shell, or find things that tickle your heart into a smile. Marcel always works for me.

Baby animals – humans included. The world seems pretty frustrating a lot of times, but there is something about a fresh start that just is refreshing. All of that unblemished potential. Don’t let pain make you hard, let it soften your heart to the potential in others, the potential in healing. My brother got a puppy this week. Seriously some heart salve in puppies. Just don’t let them bite your fingers.

They say there are lessons to be taught in suffering, and I believe in that truth. I’m working on releasing others to let them live their journey, live the lessons that God intended for them, and to come to a place that makes sense for them. I don’t like it, and it isn’t fair, and I’m going to spend my life doing what I can to alleviate that pain in tiny ways for my friends, my family, humanity, in itty bitty ways that I can. That’s what today is for me, and heck, that’s what this blog is about.

How do you soothe your heart?

That Snow White Dress

After reading yesterday’s post my dad found the picture I was referencing. I’m on the right, in the Snow White Dress. Look at our style.

This too shall pass.

Proverbs 31:10

Charm is deceitful and beauty is fleeting, But a woman who fears the LORD, she shall be praised.

For some reason or another, Proverbs 31:10 came into my mind a lot this week. Now I do not want to get into an argument about what a woman of God looks like, or a discussion of what is honorable above other things, or even about fearing the LORD. I’m all for having that conversation, but not here, not in this space. I guess what kept resonating through my mind this week was that word fleeting.

fleet·ing

ˈflētiNG/

adjective

lasting for a very short time.

“hoping to get a fleeting glimpse of a whale underwater”

synonyms: brief, short, short-lived, quick, momentary, cursory, transient, ephemeral,fugitive, passing, transitory; More

Lasting for a very short time….. isn’t that a bummer? When I think about the purpose of this blog and my intention to find beauty, I never really thought about for how long those beautiful things would last. And yet, this verse, it’s so true. The beautiful things I have written about up to this point have come and gone, for the most part, or are moments, memories, nostalgic things that make my heart warm. But they haven’t necessarily been lasting things that I can keep forever, and that makes me feel a little bit sad.

There are certainly things that I wouldn’t want to keep forever, and maybe that is where the beauty lives as well. I really don’t want to keep anxiety forever – unemployment, insecurity, losing a loved one, watching friends move, or ‘unnamed situation I’m worrying about that hasn’t even happened yet’ – these things I am happy to move through and let go. I had a conversation with my mom this weekend about how I am a little afraid to feel ok again – that my anxiety is up, and I’m waiting for the next “bad thing” to happen. She reminded me that yes, there likely will be more “bad things” to come, but waiting for them, and anticipating their arrival is a horrible way to live. I’m going to miss out on what’s going on right here, right now. And I can take the lessons I’ve learned in the past storms and bring them to whatever next storms may come our way.

Really, I had a great week – Dylan is enjoying his new job, it finally stopped being windy, the weather is warming up, my tomato plants are growing! I’ve felt content, and proud of us for getting through a season that tested us in many, many ways. And…. materialistic drum roll please…..we got to register for our wedding. That was one of the oddest things I think I have ever really done. Its weird to think about asking people to buy you things, a lot of things, for your future. How am I supposed to know what china pattern I want (where, ps, do you buy china because this is missing from our registry) when we don’t even have a formal dining table? Are napkin rings necessary? Which items are sure to make a marriage last – it’s a little ridiculous. The sociologist in me was asking SO many questions about the way our society tells us to celebrate commitment. I have a hard time spending money, and asking for things, so it was really out of my comfort zone.

Look at that supposed bliss

Those little scanners, though, those are pretty fun. Beep – I’d like that. Beep – sure that could go somewhere. Beep – but isn’t that CUTE! Who knows what we will end up receiving, and I am thankful for those who love us and want to wish us well, and shower us with items that will bring us into this new stage of life. As we were standing in the towel isle at Target I kinda had a mini melt down. “How am I supposed to know what color I want my bathroom to be? I can’t decide this now! I don’t even know!!!!” Dylan gently took my arm and said, “this is not about the towels. We don’t have to have these forever, we just get to be together forever.” His words brought me back to reality, and we finished scanning away.

He’s exactly right isn’t he – this process of wedding planning isn’t going to last forever. However much I don’t like wedding planning, or get overwhelmed in picking out towels, or kitchen utensils, I am only going to be standing in those isles with that scanner once. This is it, this is my life, and I want to find the beauty and enjoyment in our process rather than rush through. Because this process is going to be pretty darn fleeting. I don’t want to stand here on September 7th and tell you whew, we made it through that one.

In an effort to make me laugh Dylan scanned one or two quirky things on the registry just to see if people are paying attention. It re-grounded me and made me smile. This little guy ended up on the list. I really, really, hope he finds his way into our lives. If you are feeling led to check out our wedding registries, make it a game to see what other items that touched our odd personalities.

Don’t worry – it’s just a gnome candle. If I get him I will name him

This week maybe my thoughts are what are beautiful. Maybe they are drawing on cliches, but I don’t really think so. I got the beautiful reminder to slow down, enjoy the process, ask questions, and find things to laugh about. And this, perhaps, is my approach to life. Because, good or bad, this too shall pass.

Lesson from a Talent Show

The heavy green door opens, and I walk through the space created by squeaking hinges and into a hallway. Old carpet, matted down by hundreds of kids, scratches underneath my feet. I want to reach out and drag my hand along the brick wall as I head towards the gym. Do all of these buildings smell the same? It’s got to be something they pump through those public school vents mixed with smelly adolescent boy, and girls still trying to figure out just how much Clinique Happy they can get away with.

This week, I got invited to a junior high talent show. Part of the organization I work for has a homework helpers tutoring program, and one of the young men who participates tried out for the 6th grade talent show, and was selected to perform. I don’t have a relationship with this kid – working on the administrative team, keeps me somewhat removed from the face to face interaction with those we serve. However, my co-worker was so excited for this little guy’s performance and she invited me to go with her and watch. He had been practicing all week – taking any opportunity to share with anyone who would listen, the song he was going to play. And so, on Friday afternoon, we stepped away from the office and got to go back to junior high – just for a few moments.

Now I don’t know about you, but for most people, I think junior high was some sort of version of well, hell. Too many hormones, braces, boys, dances, and popular kids. I survived junior high ok, skating through in the “just popular enough” clique, but as I sat in that gym I could not help think that this school was very different than the one I attended. And it is just across town. This school faced many more challenges than the school I spent my days at – more diversity, the highest poverty rate in the district, the most ESL students (and not just Spanish speakers), and the lowest test scores. As someone who has a sociology degree, these things fascinate me. I do not know much about the interactions of what goes on at this school beyond the demographics captured in statistics.

What I do know, however, is that the way these 12 and 13 year olds came together for just an hour was special. Students danced, read poetry, played piano, sang loudly, and nervously poured their hearts out into their special talents. When it came time for our kiddo to perform, he was so nervous, but timidly played his guitar and sang and students applauded. Standing ovation. When, along the line, do we become so obsessed with ourselves that we stop applauding each others talents? You don’t typically see adults coming together to do talent shows – at least not formally. I sheepishly admit some of my interests and capabilities. Again, I fail to celebrate my talents on a regular basis. Maybe I’m dealing with some insecurity here, and I can certainly appreciate fantastic people, but I have a hard time appreciating the ordinary about others. Ordinary or not, I was inspired for genuine appreciation for talent demonstrated by a bunch of sixth graders. They taught me that I need to appreciate the talents of those I love, of those I admire, of those I’d like to learn a little bit more about, those that I would like to learn from.

I want to reclaim an appreciation for my talents, my hobbies, and the things I bring to the world. So, tonight, I invited a friend over, had some wine and created a collage. I haven’t done this in ages. When I was 12 and 13 my bedroom walls were literally covered with homemade collages – teen icons, faces of cute boys, and Lisa Frank, and inspirational quotes – I would spend hours creating these snapshots of life. I think, and my parents can correct me here, I had three collages – a triptych if you will – of one poster board of just eyes, one of noses, one of mouths. It hung on my wall as a weird homage to beauty magazines – my first stand against what the world tells us we should look like. I have dabbled in this method of capturing myself for years – but for one reason or another have taken a hiatus. Maybe too much else was going on in my head and my heart – it was difficult to put it on paper. But tonight I did. I set an intention, and sat down to appreciate a talent of mine that I was missing. Here’s what I created. Be kind please.

What do you appreciate about yourselves? About others? Have you had any touching moments this week?

Tenacity

te·nac·i·ty

təˈnasitē/

noun

the quality or fact of being able to grip something firmly; grip.

When I looked up the definition of tenacity, I was surprised. I knew its connotations with perseverance, determination, and the unwillingness to give up. But I was surprised but the formal definition. How does one have a quality of gripping? My hands possess that quality, I suppose, and maybe, so does my heart. I think I was struck, however, by the positive connection to gripping here. It seems like something to strive for, right? You want to grip on tightly to all that is good, and has promise. Doesn’t our society send conflicting messages here too? We are told repeatedly, to let go, have peace, unburden yourself…..loosen that grip on all those things that are not serving you. And then, we turn around and respect and praise someone for having such strength, and the ability to hold onto hope with a gripping force.

I suppose I should back up and explain why I looked up the definition in the first place. Dylan got a full time job offer this week – hallelujah! A full time position, in his industry, moving him in a direction he wants to pursue. He has to commute, and the situation is once again, not perfect. But we move forward joyfully in this answer to prayers. I was going to praise him for his tenacity – determination, perseverance, and the grace to wait for the right position, rather than pounce on anything that could have come his way. It is nice to know God has opened a new door for him, and that we made it through this time. Thank you universe! But I found myself immediately rushing into new what ifs. WHY DO I DO THIS? What if we have to move back to Boulder and I can’t find a new job ( I do not, at this point, want a new job). What if Dylan struggles in this new position? (There are no indicators…. Katie, it’s day two). What if the commute is exhausting and the price of gas gets too high? (likely… but doesn’t God provide as exhibited by what you JUST went through?) I was annoyed at myself and my ability to quickly say, “whew, Thanks God for helping us with this one, but what about all of the other possibilities of things that could potentially be problematic”. Tell me this is human nature, help me remember to, perhaps, loosen my grip.

And so, this week, I also posted a Facebook status about my impending frustration. I posed a simple question, and got some great responses.

My status said this, ” Feeling Frustrated – tell me good things about the world, ready go!”

The responses are beautiful, and I want to share:

Community Cat Coordinator – a position for a non-profit here in town that works with feral cats – I hate cats, so this made me laugh and my friend knew that it would bring a smile to my face.
The Elephant and the Dog that are friends
Easter!
5 Thoughts that will make you instantly happier – Click on the link for the article
Sunshine and a light breeze off of a river
Summer – it’s coming
A friend reminded me I’m getting married in September
Jazz for Cows – this is a thing

Shamwow!
Double Cheese Doodles – click this link to listen to an excellent story about simple pleasures!

So thank you to my friends who can encourage me, and remind me that the world is good. I am learning, that this beauty thing, it’s a choice. Every day we can turn on the news, talk to friends, and be aware of tough, heavy situations. But too, I can ask for help, and get pleasantly reminded, that gratitude is where my roots are going to thrive. Thank you for helping me remember what it is important to hold onto, what I should be gripping on to with a force greater than myself, and what I can brush off, and let go, and rid myself of to lighten my load.

I had another conversation with a friend this week who is going through some big, exciting, maybe terrifyingly wonderful changes in her life. We were talking about our blogs, and she shared with me her own definition of beauty that she is zoning in on these days. She left me this image, a quote by Keats, and since I love books, and quotes, and tattered pages, I leave you with this image for the week.

“What the imagination seizes as beauty must be truth”

What are you gripping on to these days? What are you imagining as beautiful? How are you sharing your joys with others?

Spring Blossoms

Aren’t these blossoms beautiful? Pleasing to the senses? The internet is blowing up with pictures of blossoms, and people asking us to stop and appreciate these delicate, short lived pops of beauty. I am loving all of the flowering trees that are coming up around town, even if they are making me sneeze and the Zyrtec come out in full force. What I love about this picture too, is that if you look into the background you can see parents waiting and watching as kids play soccer. What you can’t see are the sounds those parents are making. The house I grew up in backs right up to a small neighborhood park, and the cheering voices of soccer games drifted into my family’s life to become the sound track of Saturday mornings in both the spring and fall. It is comforting to know those games are still happening, and even more comforting to know that I sometimes get to hear that soundtrack again. Can you tell I’m balancing between growing up and finding comfort in my roots? Maybe that’s an underlying theme here that I didn’t anticipate noticing about myself.

Anyways, I love these blossoms. The day after I took this picture we got a spring snow. Welcome to Colorado, right? Where you never know when you can put away those boots and settle into the next season. The snow flakes were thick, and cold, and slushy, and they covered up all of the brave, budding little plants that are trying their hardest to push their way into this earth. I noticed that these blossoms turned inward, protecting themselves from the cold and they drooped a little, shivering as the wind whispered between them, threatening their existence. Sometimes, that’s kinda how I feel on this journey of looking for beauty. Sometimes in life things are feeling really good, positive, like change is being made and things are being accomplished. And then a cold wind blows – an uncomfortable experience, or a harsh word said by a co-worker, and I want to turn inwards, away from the wind, and away from those experiences that make me question my own place in this world. Because goodness, sometimes doesn’t it seem like the world works pretty hard at making us feel small, and unworthy of showing our true beauty.

Maybe this journey of exploring beautiful things isn’t always going to feel %100 beautiful – is that paradoxical? I’m not sure I’m communicating exactly what’s swirling around in my head this week. But I know that I am trying my hardest to blossom, to break out of that little protective shell, and stand against the elements and say, “here I am, please appreciate me.” But a part of me knows too, that this beauty comes in seasons; we shrink, petals fall, and then we get the courage and the time and the opportunity to grow and try again and resurface and say, “here I am, beautiful like last time, just a little different.” Oh the lessons nature can teach me. I’m kinda into it. I started some tomato plants this week, and basil, and flowers in a pot. We will see how I do – I’ve never really gardened before.

I also got the chance to have fun and be creative with Easter eggs. This is a tradition I’ll never be too old for. This year we just felt a little bit more sophisticated in our design. Thank goodness for Pinterest, and my mom who will still blow out the yokes of the eggs into a bowl so I can decorate the hollow, fragile shell. Again, beauty in the delicate nature of life. And beauty that I didn’t have to get egg goop in my mouth (still a child here… what can I say?) My mom said I should practice for motherhood and start doing these messy things – let’s put the breaks on that one please. Tonight, there is supposed to be a lunar eclipse. I’m not sure I will be able to stay up until midnight to watch it. I’m getting kinda old. Maybe Jimmy Fallon can help. We’ve been watching on Hulu, and that man is funny! I think when I look back on this time of uncertainty, or this stage of life, I will be able to say that this search for beauty and Jimmy Fallon helped to keep me grounded. You never know what is going to come your way. What areas are you growing in? What is threatening your beauty or your place on this earth? What is helping you stay grounded?

Also, for a throw back laugh, I thought I’d share this really bizarre picture. These are my Barney slippers from when I was little.I can’t believe my parents kept them, but they certainly make me laugh. Apparently, I’d never take them off and I had a nightgown to match. Commercialism at it’s finest. Aren’t those little lizards creepy?

Roots

It was 75 degrees today! You know what that calls for? A shandy! I think my new summer go-to drink is going to be mixing Sunshine Wheat Beer (my favorite New Belgium brew) with Lemonade. When I asked Dylan what mix he used he suggested 56% lemonade, 44% beer. No joke. Good luck figuring those measurements out. Anyway, I highly recommend the drink. We had burgers for dinner, and my little summer drink, and the weather promised a bit of a spring teaser that makes me so excited that Spring and Summer are coming. Its been a long, cold winter.

Don’t worry. Just one is mine.

And…… today was Free Cone Day at Ben and Jerry’s. Who doesn’t love ice cream? And FREE ice cream at that. If that’s not a beautiful thing, I’m not quite sure what is. I really enjoyed my free cone of Coconut Seven Layer Bar. If you didn’t take advantage of Free Cone Day, you missed out. What was more enjoyable, though, was the waiting in line for 30 minutes. No, I’m not being sarcastic, I really liked it. It was nice to stand outside in shorts and chat with my parents, and Dylan and the little boy behind us in line. It was fun to people watch and see how a community comes out when the weather warms up and a free treat is waiting. Musicians were playing, the sun was setting; this was the place to be.

In my people watching, I saw a group of high school girls wearing Poudre Tennis gear and my heart swelled. Now the reason behind this excitement requires a little bit of back story. I am one of those girls who obnoxiously loved high school. I loved studying, I loved being at school, I loved doing sports, and being in choir, and when I wasn’t doing those things I was with the same 15 kids pretty much all the time. Thinking back retrospectively, I often wonder if I was so happy because I was in the right clique, and sometimes I wonder if I was mean to those I went to high school with. I hope not. But you know what they say, “If you think cliques didn’t exist, you probably were in one.” If I was mean to you, I’d like to apologize.

Part of what made my high school experience so wonderful though, was that tennis team. I was one of those giggly, seemingly annoying girls who was SO proud to wear my blue tennis skirt and home made puff painted t-shirts with the silly nicknames on the back. I was lucky enough to play on the team with the same girls for three years. We did EVERYTHING together – we had sleepovers, study parties at Starbucks, the staff at Chipotle probably hated us, and my coach was a wonderful, tough love kind of woman whom I still respect.

My best friends and I after we won the Regional Title in 2007. I’m in the center.

Aren’t those shirts embarrassing? That year, our Science Bowl team won the National Competition. Ok, we were also nerds. Big Nerds. It is neat to still live in the same town where I grew up, and I’m thankful I can have a little bit of alumni pride. We are the only Impalas in the nation you know. So where does the beauty in this nostalgia lie? My heart strings were tugged tonight because I sometimes miss that time of my life, where success came as easy as an A on a paper, a sweet tennis serve, a high five in the hallway on the way to class.

What is even better than feeling nostalgic tonight is knowing that these girls are still some of my very best friends. Yes, we went to college in different states, dated different boys, and made some of our own choices. Yes, now we have scattered and distance and life experience have changed each of us in different ways- two are in Africa serving in the Peace Corps, one is married and owns a home, one is living in Fort Collins and one in Denver. Our communication comes less frequently, sometimes every few months, sometimes more than that. But this week, I also get the pleasure of inviting each of them to my wedding. One of them is standing up as my bridesmaid, and one will be returning from Sierra Leone for my special day. Those days of tennis skirts, and prom dates have passed us by, but those roots are so important to me. This group is so foundational to who I have become and my perspective on this planet.

Here are some of us on Wedding Day number one

Sometimes, I feel a little bit insecure because I am entirely happy living in the town that I grew up in. I’m a little afraid you are reading this and thinking, “sheesh, – she still hangs out with those girls?” Maybe I should be out exploring the world, traveling, testing my boundaries. But the beauty in “being Katie” as author Gretchen Rubin would put it, is that I know that what makes other people happy doesn’t necessarily have to make me happy. And tonight, I am thankful for friends who, against the odds, still remain a significant part of my life. I am thankful I live in a beautiful, wonderful town that I continue to enjoy. I am thankful for roots. And thankful for the beauty in free ice cream.

Little Luxuries

I’m having a bit of a fearful day today. But, progress has been made, because my little bit of fear seems to be floating on the surface of a lot of good things that are happening. I’m thinking about that paper marbling technique I used to do with my mom when I was little – you put the drops of paint that float on water, watch it swirl around, and dip paper into the pretty patterns to capture something more unique; the pattern is different every time.

When I googled the term “marble painting” most of the hits came back with tips and techniques for pre-schoolers. Channel my inner child. Ok. I’ll take the term and turn it into an extended metaphor. My favorite exercise. In my life right now there seems to be quite a bit swirling around. If I’m creating a marble painting of myself I think these are the things that I would be dropping onto that watery surface.

Drop one – Wedding planning is a beast – no wonder people elope. There are so many decisions to be made, and I’m being taught again and again that my tendency to want to cross things off my list, and do it NOW, is maybe more of a character flaw than an asset. This is a process, not something to check off my list. Drop two – my job is pleasant, but days are always full, and I continue to balance a multitude of tasks and responsibilities. I am happy here, though, because I’d rather to have too much to do then sit at a desk twiddling my thumbs. We are preparing for the biggest fundraiser of the year and are pushing relationships and promoting ourselves in good ways. Drop three – I am continuing to trust in God’s promise of provision. This is a huge area of struggle for me – maybe this drop of color would be darker, black or grey, or something not so glamorous because trusting God is hard work. I don’t like spending money, and I don’t like asking for help, and I don’t like admitting imperfection or mess – but here I am doing all of those things as I walk towards this next chapter of my life. So, I imagine that all of those swirling things are in the process of creating some beauty – a unique pattern that reflects this time in my life.

In the meantime, as I reflected back about this week, nothing stood out to me as extremely beautiful. However, there were a few ordinary moments that I am thankful for. Here are my little luxuries of the week:

1) Gumballs

I have a mason jar filled with gum balls on my desk. These little sugary bursts of color bring a lot to the interactions I have during my day. First of all, I love the way they look in that small little mason jar. Their presence is comforting aesthetically; the way those colors interact with each other bring some fun to my workspace. Too, when people come to my desk I offer one up to share – it’s a conversation starter, a reason to smile, and a little breather for those who I work with. Because let’s be honest. Who doesn’t love gum balls?

2) The Mountains

Again, I am a Colorado girl, so forgive the gushing mountain comments – but can you please appreciate that view?? It is really an amazing privilege that I can drive two hours and sit on a little chair and be at the top of a mountain with two pieces of wood strapped to my feet. It was a windy day, but I was in awe by the view at the top of A-Basin where you can see all three ski resorts in the area, and really felt “On Top of The World” – even if it was just for a minute.

3) Comforting Quotes

I surround myself with phrases and quotes and inspirational sayings. These were a few I came across this week that made me feel more grounded, and reminded myself that I am my own biggest critic.

“Always remember YOU are NOT what you DO, you are YOU….”
“The option to leap into the unknown is always present. We are never at a lack of options. It is courage we sometimes lack…. It is a battle cry before I ride into the siege of possibility, the storm of uncertainty and the dark night of transformation. I write knowing that on the other side, beyond the struggle and the stomach churning fear is everything that every one of us has been waiting for–miraculous Truth, peace, contentment, freedom. Who wants to ride with me?” – Katrina Nilsson – Gorman
Matthew 6:34 – my daily mantra because I’m a pretty good worrier.

What would the drops be that contribute to your swirling beautiful marble painting this week? What little luxuries crossed your path?

That Rickety Kitchen Table

I have a bruise. A really glamorous purply, blue bruise. It’s on my left wrist, and it’s just about the size of a softball. That makes sense, because its from playing on a rec softball league, and I stopped a ball at second base and it hit my hand instead of my glove. ” Trust the glove,” a friend said. Well I tried, but it still hit me in the hand. I’ve got some learning to do when it comes to softball. “Room for improvement,” they might say.

My bruise, however, is nothing compared to what my brother has got going on. This week he had an accident on his scooter, where he got cut off by a truck, and slid on some gravel and turned the thing over on its side. Luckily he escaped with just some scrapes and bruises. Some serious bruises. Boy are those colors beautiful – yellow to red to purple – there is a rainbow in there. That’s got to hurt when he lays on his side. We are all thankful that he wasn’t hurt more seriously, and that his injuries resulted in some pain, inconvenience, and time off from work to heal. We got lucky with this one.

What was more beautiful, in fact, was what came from his injury, and I am thankful for it. Because Sam got in an accident he was staying at home; my parents taking care of him. Dylan was with friends, so I asked to come over for a free meal. This week, for the first time in many, many years we had a family dinner with just me, my brother, my mom and my dad. Now we have quite frequently sat down to share a meal recently, but there was always a welcomed addition – a grandmother, a friend, a fiancé. On Friday night, for whatever reasons, it was just us original four. We all sat at our customary places from when we were growing up – I had my back to the big glass door, Sam sits across from me next to the counter. My parents hold strong at opposite ends of the creaky kitchen table with the chairs my dad built himself and we sit on itchy cushions my mom knit years ago. It wasn’t a fancy meal, and the conversation wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but this ordinary moment felt incredibly beautiful to me.

We’ve been through a lot over the past few years, and to be honest, being all together did not always feel good. It is hard to watch those you love suffer, and we’ve all been working on so much personal growth. At times, this growth pulls us in different directions, to perhaps separate corners of the house, or separate towns or school or work while we figure out who we are going to be as individuals in the world.

We used to make fun of my mom because while I was in college she used to get teary when we could all sit down together for dinner. This time, it was me. So much of family life happens around that square little table. It’s a routine I treasure, and I am so thankful my parents made an effort to gather us each night for a meal. Even if that meal was popcorn, and cheese, and apples on Sunday evenings (Grocery day was Monday don’t ya know). It is a tradition and a value I hope to instill with my own family some day. And as I continue to grow and change and prepare to leave my family in the traditional sense, and my brother starts out his own life on his own terms, and my parents embrace that term “empty nesters” I know that I can always return to sit at that table. New memories will be made, and maybe other additions brought in, but the power of the “original four” melts my heart. I’m thankful we keep fighting for each other, and that we keep returning to our spots at the table. I hope they continue to sit by me, and bless the food, and bless each other in ways we never could have imagined.

52 Beautiful Things

An imperfect attempt to find some beauty the world has to offer. One week at a time.