currently

sitting in the way
watching my roommate hang her final pictures/posters
listening to the perfect mix of arcade fire, radiohead, bright eyes, feist, etc. etc. etc.
missing jamaica. a lot.
loving our cute new home ("the not-so blue/almost green door")
yawning
budgeting
daydreaming
processing
eating blueberries

happy saturday
happy almost february
happy living :)

wants.

i could stay in bed all day
lie under piles of fleece and cotton
ignore my mostly-green door
(a portal to an outside world, to which i owe a fragmented existence.
i am no longer fully here.)

i am struggling to stay afloat
in a sea of wealth and privilege
in a place i have chosen
a life i have chosen
a life that has been given to me

if i get out of bed:
i will begin my mental list of today's wants
words on lined paper, awaiting the strike of ink
to smother them into black
what i want:
a new journal
new toms (to replace my slippers. defeating the purpose. yet, the want remains)
a new book (but, to my right sits a bookshelf filled from edge to edge with ink filled pages so far unread)


so i can stay in bed all day
turning pages to wash me of the guilt
of even the luxury of books
fifteen books

and if i read, then maybe,
just maybe,
there will be no space in
my mind or
my heart or
my schedule for

the longing to hear kids singing michael jackson at the top of their lungs

or

the aching to sit and listen to the story of a heartbroken and forgotten girl.
and i could sit and offer ears for hours, until the sun hides behind blue mountains, not understanding the point of her suffering or my privilege.

and i won't have time to listen to our soundtrack--call on me, or a thousand miles away--i won't be able to think about the boys who taught us to dance, or the people we now call family.

or

maybe. i'll forget the moment, driving through pot-hole ridden streets in a place so green that new life is all i can see, and i'm sitting in a van, surrounded by beautiful people on every side, hearing pieces of wisdom, stories of Jamaican experience, with Bob Marley playing in the background.

because if i remember, my heart hurts all the more
and i start crying all over again
celebrating what is such a beautiful new home
grieving what feels like such a profound loss
but i don't want to forget the contentment of that moment,
even in discomfort.

discomfort as we drive past
tin-roof houses and
piles of corregated steel;
goats collecting trash in road-side ditches and
uniformed children begging for a meal
(a meal. i eat three of those a day.)

and all these images are flashing by
and the last week is replaying in my head
and all i hear is music drowning out the noise

redemption song. a song of freedom.
as it was in the beginning, so shall it be in the end.

but then there's the earthquake
and i can't make sense of it.
the news reports
and the thousands dead.
millions affected.
and jesus is suffering with them
while i stay bundled up in my cozy layers
in my cozy house on the beach
with the iPod that i should have left behind
in the country that i can't wait to escape

and my mom--she sponsors a haitian girl
so i guess that makes her my sister
and they're not sure if she is dead or alive
she could be burried under piles of rubble
or crying in the streets

and here i am, planning out the next three years
moving in a way that feels directed by God

and in the back of my mind comes that nagging voice:
"law school" "intellect" "use your brain"

i want to shut the voices down.
i want to hear utter silence.

what i want to do:
be in jamaica.
play with sanka.
dance with kids to michael jackson songs for hours.
listen to taxa talk.
play whatever games they want to play, for as long as they want to play them.
adopt. now.
hold orphans and cook dinner for the poor and
dig through piles of rubble to find that one.
that one dearly beloved child of God.
give away everything, without the want to gain it all back again.

and my wants can only be fulfilled because i swim in a sea of wealth and privilege.

so what am i to do?

eating in a meat-free house: classic tex-mex tacos

i have been back in america for less than two days and already, i have treated myself to some fine dining
del taco and taco bell
the epitome of americanized mexican food

fast food kind of goes against my new year's resolutions (1. avoid fast food, and 2. cook more) (alright, it's completely against...)

SO. in an attempt to prove that i can survive without taco bell
and that vegetarian food is yummy,
i leave you with this recipe.

ALL of the ingredients can be found at your local trader joes AND it's a two-person recipe (the perfect excuse to spend time with your roommate wearing matching aprons...)

it's the perfect amount of spicy and yummy.
you meat-eaters won't even know what hit you.

classic tex-mex tacos
serves 4


ingredients

1 onion
2 cloves garlic
1 tablespoon canola oil
1 package tofu
2 cups water
1 (6-oz) can tomato paste
2 tablespoons taco seasoning


toppings

taco shells
grated cheddar cheese
shredded lettuce
salsa
sour cream
olives
etc, etc, etc

Cut the onion in 1/2-inch pieces. Finely chop garlic.
Put oil in a large skillet, add the onion and let cook for 10-12 minutes.
Add the garlic and stir constantly for one minute.
Cut tofu into small squares. Mash if possible.
Add tofu, water, tomato paste and seasoning and cook for 10 to 12 minutes, or until all the liquid has been absorbed.

Spoon some filling into each taco shell and finish with the toppings of your choice.

Give thanks and eat with friends.
Make your non-vegetarian friends admit how much they love it :)

simon.

three years had shaped them by the soles of my feet
and had bound them to every journey
across state borders and through customs inspections
and they, my constant companions, had collected soil from four five six seven countries
across one two three oceans

shoes of privilege, they were: bound to feet of privilege, tied to a world of privilege

yet, with worn edges and paint stains, they remained what they were: slippers

but to watch him hesitantly slip his feet in and out
as they sat, vacant on the doorstep
to admire the perfect fit
with excited eyes, to imagine the adventures he could take and the games he could play


i would trade every pair
over and over and over and over
until kingdom come
for the sweetest hug and the simplest whisper:
"thank you, kara"
of the boy to whom they now belong




it was what i could do
and not nearly enough
but, what was required of me

as if these shoes, and these soles, and these feet
arms, hands and body
and everything it possesses
were mine to begin with

is it possible?
it must be possible
that these slippers,
given by God,
now find a home on the feet of Jesus

and now a simple question resounds in my ears and in my eyes and in my heart:
what else needs a new home?

coming and going

here i am, sitting, again, in the airport
waiting, again, for a plane to whisk me away to my next adventure
my life these days is full of comings and goings
i'm not complaining

this morning, on the way to my fourth of what will be six flights in one month,
my dad said: "i'm tired of this. thirty years of coming and going."

it began in the navy, setting out to sea
then it was bi-monthly trips from los angeles to san francisco during law school
then, moving and removing the kids from home A to home B every other week
now, as an almost-college graduate, he's tired of my comings and goings: four days for thanksgiving, five for christmas, three for easter, back and forth, back and forth, back back back and forth

BUT. i am not tired of it. i find it energizing and exhilarating and an accurate description of me.

i am not content to sit still and hope for the best.
i must explore every option, analyze every detail and discover who i am in the meantime.

what i have discovered so far:
i crave adventure.
i need to marry a man who gives me freedom--to wear headbands and boots, or jeans and a tee-shirt; to laugh uncontrollably; to explore God, to create, or to not. i'll need to adore his character--to be challenged, encouraged, comforted by him, to be proud of him. he'll need to be the best person i know. i'll keep exploring until i find him.
i will be the one to break generations of sin, to create a new future and a new legacy.
i love kids.
i want a cinnamon-sugar wetzels pretzel.
home ownership, i think, is not in the future, and i am intrigued by simplicity.
i am completely, absolutely, whole-heartedly taken by the story of Jesus. who He is is exactly who i need Him to be.
i have visions of speaking french...

...and, my flight is now boarding.
san diego, here i come :)