well, this is it. day five of the challenge. the final blog. it's been more challenging than i ever expected writing could be. so i'm glad to be ending it with this: a list of things that make me unbelievably happy. since day one, i've been making mental notes, scribbling on post-its, sending myself text messages of the little things throughout my day that surprised me with joy.
i was excited to see that most of these things happened day to day and that they really did make all the difference in the world.
i was also excited that i was forced to make this list because really, i'm stressed and overwhelmed and need to be reminded of the simple, beautiful things in my day that give me hope and keep me going.
i was also excited that libby gave me a topic that didn't require full sentences :)
here it is. twenty-five, because fifty felt impossible and thirty-six felt strange. incomplete, but a beginning :)
1. fresh flowers in my kitchen and/or bedroom*
2. unexpected phone calls/texts/emails/letters/visits from friends and family*
3. frozen bite-size fruit/ fresh, organic, locally grown fruit*
4. making the perfect caramel macchiato
5. getting As
6. inspired people/moments
7. waking up early, energized and excited
8. being read to*
9. wandering around book stores aimlessly for hours on end*
10. bike rides*
11. cooking dinner for the people that i love*
12. coming home to a clean room and clean laundry
13. jamaica and the thought of going back :)
14. love, affirmation, feeling valued and cuddling (duh)
15. drinking tea and telling stories on my couch
16. frozen waffles and m&ms
17. giraffes (or any thing that required a lot of creativity)
18. friendly customer service/people who are friendly to the customer service
19. reading other people's blogs (especially wedding blogs...)
20. new journal day
21. songs that leave you silent
22. freeze tag and other silly adventures
23. when moments with the Lord feel like peppermint in your soul*
24. vegetariansim*
25. laugh attacks and quirky people
*explanations to come soon
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
day four: art, or something like it
I don't really feel like writing right now. After three days of writing, four days of thinking, five days of living my normal life, I am exhausted. I just got back to my apartment, sopping wet and covered in sand, after a swim in the ocean. Now, I'm sitting on my couch in very worn in sweatpants, drinking tea, wondering if I have anything left to pour out.
Libs challenged me to five days of writing, and yes, it is exactly that: a challenge.
I've never been one to sit down and effortlessly create something beautiful. Who can explain the bounds of art? Certainly not me, though there are a few things that I do know. With art, whatever form it takes, is a constant pouring out and pouring in and it is rarely, if ever, effortless. In every work of art, you place a part of your heart, details of your life, fragments of your identity. You are creating something out of yourself.
You can find pieces of a musician in his songs, pieces of a painter in her portrait, pieces of a dancer in her choreography.
You can see pieces of a poet in his sonnet, pieces of a designer in his graphics, pieces of a chef in his menu.
You can find pieces of me in these words.
And knowing that, for the sake of art (however novice I may be), I cannot simply write for the sake of fulfilling today's "blog requirement," but that I have to give myself to what I'm writing, give myself, at least in part, to the reader, to my words.
It's never effortless for me. I always approach hesitantly, and tread lightly.
I want my words to be bold, compelling and authentic.
That is what art should be. I don't know that this blog, after five very long and very full days, can be art. It can be an attempt, but I'm afraid that I've given myself away to too much this week. There is room for little else but sleep.
I gave myself to an African drumming class in Balboa Park.
I gave myself to preparation for mural after mural.
I gave myself to days 1, 2, and 3, to books and cooking, to presentations and event planning and the capturing everyday moments.
I wish that I could say to myself, "create," and my mind and body and soul would unite to do exactly that. I wish that I had constant inspiration, constant energy to pour myself out, again and again, for the sake of creatively presenting my reality with boldness and authenticity. I was made in the image of a creative God, this I know for sure. I want to create art in His image, but I am only human. I want to create art, but I'm absolutely utterly terribly completely exhausted. I'm not sure that I can give any more of myself tonight. Good thing the challenge ends tomorrow.
Libs challenged me to five days of writing, and yes, it is exactly that: a challenge.
I've never been one to sit down and effortlessly create something beautiful. Who can explain the bounds of art? Certainly not me, though there are a few things that I do know. With art, whatever form it takes, is a constant pouring out and pouring in and it is rarely, if ever, effortless. In every work of art, you place a part of your heart, details of your life, fragments of your identity. You are creating something out of yourself.
You can find pieces of a musician in his songs, pieces of a painter in her portrait, pieces of a dancer in her choreography.
You can see pieces of a poet in his sonnet, pieces of a designer in his graphics, pieces of a chef in his menu.
You can find pieces of me in these words.
And knowing that, for the sake of art (however novice I may be), I cannot simply write for the sake of fulfilling today's "blog requirement," but that I have to give myself to what I'm writing, give myself, at least in part, to the reader, to my words.
It's never effortless for me. I always approach hesitantly, and tread lightly.
I want my words to be bold, compelling and authentic.
That is what art should be. I don't know that this blog, after five very long and very full days, can be art. It can be an attempt, but I'm afraid that I've given myself away to too much this week. There is room for little else but sleep.
I gave myself to an African drumming class in Balboa Park.
I gave myself to preparation for mural after mural.
I gave myself to days 1, 2, and 3, to books and cooking, to presentations and event planning and the capturing everyday moments.
I wish that I could say to myself, "create," and my mind and body and soul would unite to do exactly that. I wish that I had constant inspiration, constant energy to pour myself out, again and again, for the sake of creatively presenting my reality with boldness and authenticity. I was made in the image of a creative God, this I know for sure. I want to create art in His image, but I am only human. I want to create art, but I'm absolutely utterly terribly completely exhausted. I'm not sure that I can give any more of myself tonight. Good thing the challenge ends tomorrow.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
day three: the best day of my life
I noticed it first in the Spring. Something in my heart had changed. Instead of my obsession with to-do lists, pushing through events just to call them done, filling up my planner for the joy of calling myself busy, of feeling useful, feeling like my days mattered, there was a profound switch in the reality of my days. For reasons that I can only speculate, I found myself anxious to avoid shallow experiences, to invest myself in only what I thought was genuinely important. I was no longer filling my journal of a list of things that I had accomplished; instead, I found myself exploring the depths of my days, traveling through each moment, making sure that, without a doubt, that moment belonged to me. That moment, and every moment.
By Spring, I had shared enough of moments. I had shared months and months with a dark and oppressive anxiety; I'd shared them with insecurity. I'd shared them with comparisons and self-doubt, I'd shared them with striving. I'd shared them with so many things, except that I hadn't shared them with myself. At least not with the me that I wanted to be, the me that Jesus says I am.
I came to the heartbreaking realization that I was pushing through my days, anxious to get to their end and receive my "well done," when life is, in fact, meant to be enjoyed. Moment by moment, life is profound. Life, and every moment inside of it, deserves my full attention and all of my affection. My moments should belong to the Light, belong to my heart. My moments should dwell within the realm of joy and of creativity, of excitement and peace.
Maybe that was the best day of my life.
But even I disagree with that statement.
Maybe the best day of my life isn't really one day at all. Maybe it is a collection of my moments. Twenty-four hours worth of mysterious, consecrated, life-altering, belly-laugh inducing, heart-wrenching moments.
Maybe the best day of my life was the first day that I stepped out of my apartment with peace of mind and a quiet heart. Maybe it was the day that I sat outside on a blanket and read in the sunshine for hours, or when I realized the depths of my sin, my desperation for Jesus. It could have been the day that my heart broke over the beauty of ten Jamaican special education kids, or the day we celebrated my grandpa's eighty years of life with tango. Perhaps it was the day that I welcomed new freshman into their place at USD, or it was the day I cuddled up in my bed and slept for thirteen hours.
Maybe the best day of my life will come in the future, when I graduate from college, when I fall in love, when I start a family; maybe it will come tomorrow when I have a conversation with a friend, when I go to work, when I finish my book.
I have yet to experience one day without some engaging or sacred moment, one moment where I could not say, "this is the best day of my life."
By Spring, I had shared enough of moments. I had shared months and months with a dark and oppressive anxiety; I'd shared them with insecurity. I'd shared them with comparisons and self-doubt, I'd shared them with striving. I'd shared them with so many things, except that I hadn't shared them with myself. At least not with the me that I wanted to be, the me that Jesus says I am.
I came to the heartbreaking realization that I was pushing through my days, anxious to get to their end and receive my "well done," when life is, in fact, meant to be enjoyed. Moment by moment, life is profound. Life, and every moment inside of it, deserves my full attention and all of my affection. My moments should belong to the Light, belong to my heart. My moments should dwell within the realm of joy and of creativity, of excitement and peace.
Maybe that was the best day of my life.
But even I disagree with that statement.
Maybe the best day of my life isn't really one day at all. Maybe it is a collection of my moments. Twenty-four hours worth of mysterious, consecrated, life-altering, belly-laugh inducing, heart-wrenching moments.
Maybe the best day of my life was the first day that I stepped out of my apartment with peace of mind and a quiet heart. Maybe it was the day that I sat outside on a blanket and read in the sunshine for hours, or when I realized the depths of my sin, my desperation for Jesus. It could have been the day that my heart broke over the beauty of ten Jamaican special education kids, or the day we celebrated my grandpa's eighty years of life with tango. Perhaps it was the day that I welcomed new freshman into their place at USD, or it was the day I cuddled up in my bed and slept for thirteen hours.
Maybe the best day of my life will come in the future, when I graduate from college, when I fall in love, when I start a family; maybe it will come tomorrow when I have a conversation with a friend, when I go to work, when I finish my book.
I have yet to experience one day without some engaging or sacred moment, one moment where I could not say, "this is the best day of my life."
Monday, September 21, 2009
day two: fall
Our year, segmented into four distinct seasons, is full of change. None is more welcome than Fall. How fitting that today is its first day and big changes lay ahead. Changing seasons, changing colors, changing schedules, changing people. After months long and drawn out by the intensity of heat, the humidity draining us of all moisture, all energy, we anxiously await this time of great transition. We move our summer clothes and vacations to the back of our memory, only to pull out scarves and boots and coats, hot tea and sweatpants. We shed our summer skin and the freedom that brought it for what seems to be rigid scheduling, late nights reading textbooks, drinking tea and hoping for a chill in the air, breath visible, that is ushered in by the holidays. We set aside bikinis for Halloween costumes, popsicles for pumpkin pie, brown grass for rolling green hills. We think in the tones of nature--hues of red and orange, the palette of a wonderful Creator.
For my life thus far, Fall has been bound inextricably with the start of a new school year--new classes, notebooks, pens and pencils, routines...new opportunities awaiting, new relationships to be formed. The heart of Fall, it seems, beats with such physical beauty and such profound newness. The sun-scorched land begs for rain to quench its thirst for new life; we, too, beg for the newness that a new season ushers in.
Fall looks different in San Diego, as do most things in my life. Today, I woke to gloomy skies, a cool breeze blowing through my window. I dressed in a skirt over leggings, a sweater over a tank top, my French headband over my messy, air-dried hair. I looked forward to a raspberry steamer from Aromas. Today, this change in seasons could not make up its mind. I found myself, iced drink in hand, shivering one moment, sweating and frantically tearing out of my sweater the next.
Isn't change like that--pushing and pulling, unsure of where it should lead?
Isn't change like that--leaving us with both hopeful expectation and fragile hesitation?
Like fall with the weather, so it is with change and the heart.
Yes, that is the very nature of change. Altogether exciting and frustrating, necessary and uncomfortable. Some days, I move faster than the weather patterns--I dress prematurely cold on a hot day. My closet isn't quite ready for the change that the Fall requires.
Closet, no; heart, yes. My heart is ready for all that Fall will bring--the beauty of golden leaves dropping from cracked branches to the ground, the scent of the first rainfall, the challenge of a new humanity in a new semester, a process of visible growth as the world spins on. The seasons continue their cycle, and I, like the trees, am changed.
For my life thus far, Fall has been bound inextricably with the start of a new school year--new classes, notebooks, pens and pencils, routines...new opportunities awaiting, new relationships to be formed. The heart of Fall, it seems, beats with such physical beauty and such profound newness. The sun-scorched land begs for rain to quench its thirst for new life; we, too, beg for the newness that a new season ushers in.
Fall looks different in San Diego, as do most things in my life. Today, I woke to gloomy skies, a cool breeze blowing through my window. I dressed in a skirt over leggings, a sweater over a tank top, my French headband over my messy, air-dried hair. I looked forward to a raspberry steamer from Aromas. Today, this change in seasons could not make up its mind. I found myself, iced drink in hand, shivering one moment, sweating and frantically tearing out of my sweater the next.
Isn't change like that--pushing and pulling, unsure of where it should lead?
Isn't change like that--leaving us with both hopeful expectation and fragile hesitation?
Like fall with the weather, so it is with change and the heart.
Yes, that is the very nature of change. Altogether exciting and frustrating, necessary and uncomfortable. Some days, I move faster than the weather patterns--I dress prematurely cold on a hot day. My closet isn't quite ready for the change that the Fall requires.
Closet, no; heart, yes. My heart is ready for all that Fall will bring--the beauty of golden leaves dropping from cracked branches to the ground, the scent of the first rainfall, the challenge of a new humanity in a new semester, a process of visible growth as the world spins on. The seasons continue their cycle, and I, like the trees, am changed.
day one: bring it on
well, it's day one of the blog challenge. libby has yet to post her challenge, so i'm feeling a bit ahead of the game.
when libby told me that i would be writing a blog about the words "bring it on," she told me to run with that theme, to do whatever i want with it. i feel like it would be so easy to make this post all deep and introspective, about facing challenges and being brave and blah blah blah. that stuff is all important, i know. but i don't want to overlook something just as important, even if it does make me look shallow and stupid.
bring it on--the movie that changed the world.
of course, kirsten dunst and eliza dushku can't take all of the credit. they're two of many cheerleaders in this epic series. we can't forget about hayden panettiere and solange knowles in bring it on: all or nothing, or ashley tisdale in bring it on: in it to win it...and the latest addition, out this year, bring it on: fight to the finish, with the ever-talented christina milian playing a fiesty latina cheerleader from east la.
how could we have known, when production began in the late 90s, that director peyton reed had so much to offer the world of the thirteen year old girl? what girl didn't have the secret dream of joining an award winning cheerleading squad, sparkles in hair, televised on national television? (in case you think i'm being sarcastic...i'm not. this was/maybe still is my secret dream...) i mean, honestly, no wonder this film was voted #30 on Entertainment Weekly's 50 Best High School Movies. I couldn't agree more.
and nearly a decade later, we're still talking about it, watching it, quoting it. just the other day, i found myself singing "torrance, can't stand your cheerleading squad but i love your pom-poms, i'd feed you bon-bons all night..." (so romantic...) and i can't even remember the last time somebody used the word "burr," without an accompanying "it's cold in here!!" and sadly, sometimes, when i think of ethics or justice, of doing the right think, i imagine torrance in the living room of her house, pleading with her dad to donate money to the east compton clovers so that they can compete in the semi-finals...she storms off, saying, "do the right thing, dad." i'll never forget it. so powerful.
gosh, i wish i could write about having a "bring it on" attitude towards this year--towards challenges that will come up, towards struggles and exciting things, towards life--but i'll let the words of kirsten dunst speak for me: [to the clovers] "bring it on."
it's been brought, and we've never been the same.
when libby told me that i would be writing a blog about the words "bring it on," she told me to run with that theme, to do whatever i want with it. i feel like it would be so easy to make this post all deep and introspective, about facing challenges and being brave and blah blah blah. that stuff is all important, i know. but i don't want to overlook something just as important, even if it does make me look shallow and stupid.
bring it on--the movie that changed the world.
of course, kirsten dunst and eliza dushku can't take all of the credit. they're two of many cheerleaders in this epic series. we can't forget about hayden panettiere and solange knowles in bring it on: all or nothing, or ashley tisdale in bring it on: in it to win it...and the latest addition, out this year, bring it on: fight to the finish, with the ever-talented christina milian playing a fiesty latina cheerleader from east la.
how could we have known, when production began in the late 90s, that director peyton reed had so much to offer the world of the thirteen year old girl? what girl didn't have the secret dream of joining an award winning cheerleading squad, sparkles in hair, televised on national television? (in case you think i'm being sarcastic...i'm not. this was/maybe still is my secret dream...) i mean, honestly, no wonder this film was voted #30 on Entertainment Weekly's 50 Best High School Movies. I couldn't agree more.
and nearly a decade later, we're still talking about it, watching it, quoting it. just the other day, i found myself singing "torrance, can't stand your cheerleading squad but i love your pom-poms, i'd feed you bon-bons all night..." (so romantic...) and i can't even remember the last time somebody used the word "burr," without an accompanying "it's cold in here!!" and sadly, sometimes, when i think of ethics or justice, of doing the right think, i imagine torrance in the living room of her house, pleading with her dad to donate money to the east compton clovers so that they can compete in the semi-finals...she storms off, saying, "do the right thing, dad." i'll never forget it. so powerful.
gosh, i wish i could write about having a "bring it on" attitude towards this year--towards challenges that will come up, towards struggles and exciting things, towards life--but i'll let the words of kirsten dunst speak for me: [to the clovers] "bring it on."
it's been brought, and we've never been the same.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
it's your lucky week!
today, when i checked my facebook, i had a challenge awaiting me in my inbox
a friend, miss elizabeth senna, proposed a week-long blogging challenge--an idea that she got from another blogging friend (and it was pure genius).
she picked five topics for me to write about, i picked five topics for her to write about. one topic for each day of the week, in any order we decide. libby and i will eventually write a book together, so this is great practice :)
the topics i've chosen for her are as follows:
1. olive (color, food, name...)
2. rap music
3. pumpkin spice lattes
4. creativity
5. the last thing to make you belly laugh
the topics that libs chose for me:
1. the best day of my life (that one should be easy...really...?)
2. bring it on (so much freedom with this one!!)
3. Fall
4. Italian art (my expertise...)
5. 50 things that make me unbelievably happy
the challenge begins tomorrow!!
a friend, miss elizabeth senna, proposed a week-long blogging challenge--an idea that she got from another blogging friend (and it was pure genius).
she picked five topics for me to write about, i picked five topics for her to write about. one topic for each day of the week, in any order we decide. libby and i will eventually write a book together, so this is great practice :)
the topics i've chosen for her are as follows:
1. olive (color, food, name...)
2. rap music
3. pumpkin spice lattes
4. creativity
5. the last thing to make you belly laugh
the topics that libs chose for me:
1. the best day of my life (that one should be easy...really...?)
2. bring it on (so much freedom with this one!!)
3. Fall
4. Italian art (my expertise...)
5. 50 things that make me unbelievably happy
the challenge begins tomorrow!!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
i'll keep my heart hoping
i so look forward to the day,
coming so soon, a short eight months
when, diploma in hand,
i'll embark on a new adventure
i'll keep my heart hoping
for a different country
with my passport
and a map tucked under my arm
a suitcase full of books
a cup of tea in a cafe
and a heart ready to love
i'll let my heart fall open
fall open fall open keep hopin'
to see His face
or just a silhouette
chasing after me amongst the shadows
oh, to be chased
oh, to be desired
oh, to be known
for the first time
that you would request to learn me
that i could request to learn you
that i would catch you sneaking glances at me
that you would feel my affection,
that our gazes would meet, would lock us in time
goosebumps
yes, goosebumps is what i want
goosebumps is how i'll know
when you touch me
that i am yours
fleeting moments
brief exchanges
and i would let you count the freckles on my nose
steal sweet kisses
or read to me from my favorite anthology
while i sit quietly on the other line
letting the
ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum
of my heart
speak what i cannot say
that i'm freeing myself to love you
that i'm free enough to love you
so i'll keep my heart hoping
that you will come, and come soon,
so that i can love you
coming so soon, a short eight months
when, diploma in hand,
i'll embark on a new adventure
i'll keep my heart hoping
for a different country
with my passport
and a map tucked under my arm
a suitcase full of books
a cup of tea in a cafe
and a heart ready to love
i'll let my heart fall open
fall open fall open keep hopin'
to see His face
or just a silhouette
chasing after me amongst the shadows
oh, to be chased
oh, to be desired
oh, to be known
for the first time
that you would request to learn me
that i could request to learn you
that i would catch you sneaking glances at me
that you would feel my affection,
that our gazes would meet, would lock us in time
goosebumps
yes, goosebumps is what i want
goosebumps is how i'll know
when you touch me
that i am yours
fleeting moments
brief exchanges
and i would let you count the freckles on my nose
steal sweet kisses
or read to me from my favorite anthology
while i sit quietly on the other line
letting the
ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum
of my heart
speak what i cannot say
that i'm freeing myself to love you
that i'm free enough to love you
so i'll keep my heart hoping
that you will come, and come soon,
so that i can love you
Thursday, September 17, 2009
or...
scratch that. i need to spend some serious time in a bookstore. it's been far too long.
my book list for the semester (a work in progress)
1. love in the time of cholera (almost done, almost done, almost done!!)
2. a severe mercy (recommended and provided by a friend)
3. the remaining chronicles of narnia (because i love clive and aslan)
4. a million miles in a thousand years
5. the diving bell and the butterfly
6. the curious incident of the dog in the nighttime
7. ... (now accepting suggestions...)
my book list for the semester (a work in progress)
1. love in the time of cholera (almost done, almost done, almost done!!)
2. a severe mercy (recommended and provided by a friend)
3. the remaining chronicles of narnia (because i love clive and aslan)
4. a million miles in a thousand years
5. the diving bell and the butterfly
6. the curious incident of the dog in the nighttime
7. ... (now accepting suggestions...)
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
an ambitious senior year (a work in progress)
1. coordinate a CASA/Alcala Bazaar mural
2. coordinate a "Stop Child Traffiking" mural
3. invest my heart with Townspeople/murals with them
4. go to at least five concerts/shows
5. try at least ten new restaurants
6. read at least five personal books
7. make at least three trips to balboa park
8. go on a date
9. plan a camping trip (and do a massive sleepover in a ten person tent)
10. take a trip to the zoo to see my giraffe friends
11. go on a trip with outdoor adventures
12. find my heart again in Jamaica
13. take a recreation class (preferably dance...) (...hip hop...duh...)
14. make five new good friends
15. figure out the future (...should be easy, right?)
16. do something creative every day
17. find a home with the Flood college group
18. save $500
19. take care of my body by feeding it only good things
20. make my bed every morning
21. paint a personal mural
22. attend a play of some sort
23. pray often
24. sew my own outfit
25. live within my means
26. try one new recipe a week
27. embrace spontaneity
28. learn to live on four hours of sleep
29. enjoy every single moment of the next 8 months
updates to come.
2. coordinate a "Stop Child Traffiking" mural
3. invest my heart with Townspeople/murals with them
4. go to at least five concerts/shows
5. try at least ten new restaurants
6. read at least five personal books
7. make at least three trips to balboa park
8. go on a date
9. plan a camping trip (and do a massive sleepover in a ten person tent)
10. take a trip to the zoo to see my giraffe friends
11. go on a trip with outdoor adventures
12. find my heart again in Jamaica
13. take a recreation class (preferably dance...) (...hip hop...duh...)
14. make five new good friends
15. figure out the future (...should be easy, right?)
16. do something creative every day
17. find a home with the Flood college group
18. save $500
19. take care of my body by feeding it only good things
20. make my bed every morning
21. paint a personal mural
22. attend a play of some sort
23. pray often
24. sew my own outfit
25. live within my means
26. try one new recipe a week
27. embrace spontaneity
28. learn to live on four hours of sleep
29. enjoy every single moment of the next 8 months
updates to come.
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