Evolve or remain.

"You remind me of a train," a friend of mine said to me the other day, towards the end of one of those conversations I've only ever been able to have with her. You know, one of the ones that ended with me finally letting go of all of the frustration I'd been holding back- in the form of bitter, sad, angry, hopeless tears. Up until the moment I broke, we had been catching each other up on every aspect of our lives. College, jobs, worries, love interests, self-love techniques, new empowering music to listen to, where to buy the best Chai drinks and how to master grocery shopping in 15 minutes with nothing more than a $20 bill. "How in the hell do I remind you of a train?" I asked her, prompting her to smile at me and say a few of the most comforting words I've ever heard. "You know what you want and you stay on track until you get there," she told me. "You don't let anyone or anything stand in your way- the same way trains stop for...

The universe will never stop for me and that's okay. It won't even slow down. That's okay too. Who am I to expect or demand that it should? As a single brush stroke on a masterpiece of a world, I myself am not a make or break. I am a result of one hand motion of the artist who decided, for one reason or another- that the picture wasn't complete without my presence. None of that means or has ever meant, though, that the picture (or the world) could not exist without me. It could exist , but not the way that it does. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ My favorite compliment to get and the fastest way to melt my heart? "The world needs more people like you."  I say this because it is important to me that I take this minute to make note of the greatest lesson that I have ever or probably ever will learn. That I have power.  And the beautiful thing about my power is this: it is delicately balanced between...

This past Sunday, after accompanying my mama to the local art museum so we could visit my photographer/artist father as he worked, I dialed my grandma's phone number in the parking lot. My dad had told me her wi-fi wasn't working, so my mom and I decided we'd call to see if she wanted us to come help. "Hey, it's me," I said, as soon as she picked up. "How are you?" There was a pause for a moment, before she spoke. "Hey darlin'! It's so good to hear your voice!" Grandma's are great for that, aren't they? For making you feel loved. "Mom and I are downtown right now," I told her. "And dad said your wi-fi isn't working so we thought if you're up for it, we'd stop by and help. We're not far from your house." Silence for another few seconds. "That'd be great, honey," she said. "I'm sure it's something easy, and maybe I'm just not doing the right thi...

Don't worry. I'm not going to tell your story. But I will tell ours. Partly because I think it just demands to be told, but also because I've never had a fuller heart than now.  Image credit: Randy Tobias And forgive me please, because it is so hard to have such a full heart and to have so many things to say but to not have infinite time to say it all. And it is impossible to do our friendship justice in a single post, or two or twenty or ten thousand. I've tried to put the bond that we have into words. I've tried to explain to people how incredible it was to grow up right beside you, and in doing so I've watched them smile, nod and claim that they understand the things I'm saying- but all this time I've had to just accept that no matter how I tell our story, it'll never really make sense to anyone but us.  Which, without a doubt in my mind, is the most beautiful thing I've ever gotten to be a part of and a witness to at the same time...

I'm 99% certain I'm still finding sand here and there even after countless showers since my return home, and as annoying as it is I wouldn't trade it for the world. It's been about a week since my trip back to Kansas after spending a week in South Carolina, and it's taken me until now to write this because getting back into my everyday routine after a week of vacationing is just. so. draining. That said, it feels so great to be writing again and to be sharing it with you. It's so nice to finally be caught up on bills, to be done with enrollment for the upcoming semester, and to have an empty work email inbox after filtering through endless "here's what you missed" subject lines. The vacation time was much needed, and now that it's over I'm happy to have the chance to rewind it again. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Change was more or less the underlying theme of this trip, as much as it...

It's almost as if my being is made up of oil and water; I'm a skeptic and an optimist. That seems like it wouldn't work, right? They don't mix. Wrong. It has worked for nineteen years- and counting. I say that because it's true, it really has. But just because it has worked does not mean it has been easy. Of all the words I could use to describe how it has been, easy is my very last choice. And that's okay. Easy has never been what I've wanted. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ For my whole life, people have asked me how I grew to be so skeptical and cynical of the world. I've never had an answer, but the people who have known me from my earliest days can attest to this- I think I've just always been this way. On both this blog and my last one, I've shared stories with you about my episodic skepticism tantrums. I've told you about the substitute teacher I had in Kindergarten who asked the c...