Tuesday, June 30, 2009

story.

"Everybody has to leave, everybody has to leave their home and come back so they can love it again for all new reasons." - Donald Miller, Through Painted Deserts


I agree with Miller, in general.  I do think it is vital for everyone to leave home, at least for a little while.  Leaving creates character and depth and puts things into perspective.  There is a whole huge world out there with tons of incredible people just waiting to be discovered!  If you never leave...how will you find it all?  And I also agree that coming back after absence, no matter how long, opens one's eyes to new and wonderful things about the place where they have been all along.  Simple things that once went unnoticed become the most important - the sound of a laugh, the smell of a certain laundry detergent, the way the evening light slants in through the kitchen window.  However, I think that perhaps, the things you might love the most when you come back are the very things that you loved to start with - your family, the colors, the way your bed feels after a really long day.  

At least...this is how it has been for me.

I've spent the last few years living in Santa Barbara (with the exception of summers, a couple of weeks at Christmases, and a wonderful semester in Europe) and I have loved every  single minute of it.  I love this town, I love the people I've met here, I love the way the wind blows through the palm trees, and I love the sunset light spilling across the ocean.  And most of all, I love the challenges I've experienced, the ways in which I've grown and the person that I've become here.  However, my season here has ended.  I find myself looking at Santa Barbara, the place I've come to know as home, through the eyes of one who is preparing for goodbye.   

I'm not sad, though.  I'm SO ready.  
I'm ready to end this chapter of my life, and start a new one.  One that is new and scary and unknown, but familiar in it's foundation.  Familiar in the colors of the leaves and the ones I love and the mountains which speak to my heart in a way the ocean just never could.

I've decided to return to my roots - I'm moving back to Colorado.

I'm going back at the end of the September - currently without plans for living situation, roommates, or a job.  I'm going, though, whether those plans fall into place or not.  The thought of being back for a Colorado fall is just too enticing.  I've been playing with the idea of moving for a while now, but ever since I have committed to myself (and my parents!) that I'll be back at the end of September, I've allowed myself to think about all of the things that I love and have missed about Colorado (listed below in no particular order):
- socially accepted country music
- necessary fleece jackets
- MY PARENTS
- the colors (there's a reason it's called "Colorful Colorado")
- four distinct seasons
- snow in the winter
- Qdoba
- open spaces
- leaves that change color
- my best friend
- cold weather clothes
- camping
- chick-fil-a
- wearing baseball caps
- sunshine all the time
- Texas Roadhouse
- Noodles & Co.
- my pets
- crisp air
- pine trees
- fall weather
- and so, so much more

But most of all, the thing that I've missed about Colorado is that it's a place where I see my own future taking place.  I can't wait.

Of COURSE I'll miss Santa Barbara.  I'll miss this place dearly, and even more, I'll miss the people here.  But I know that those dear ones, the ones I love, will be in my life whether or not we are residents of the same area code.  So this is the time for moving on and starting this next phase of my life.


This quote, from Through Painted Deserts by Donald Miller, has always been one of my favorites.  However, as I've revisited this book in the past week, it has had new life breathed into it, and I find it more relevant than ever:

"And so my prayer is that your story will have involved some leaving and some coming home, some summer and some winter, some roses blooming out like children in a play.  My hope is your story will be about changing, about getting something beautiful born inside of you, about learning to love a woman or a man, about learning to love a child, about moving yourself around water, around mountains, around friends, about learning to love others more than we love ourselves, about learning oneness as a way of understanding God.  We get one story, you and I, and one story alone."


And so, here I go.  Into the next chapter of my one single story, trusting in my dear Father to give me the feet for this newest path He has set before me, and confident that His love will surround me always, no matter where I may be.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

michele.

So I'm writing in my little bloggy-blog per Michele's instructions.  I told her that I actually did need to blog about something, but the time wasn't right, and her response was, "can't you blog about something else?"  And I thought...."oh yeah.  It's my blog.  I can write about whatever I want, whenever I want."

So here it is, Michele - the blog you wanted.

And I think, due to her inspiration for this entry (plus the fact that she's maybe the coolest person I know),  I will write about Michele.  Michele is amazing.  She's the kind of person that draws out the best in the people around her.  I've seen it happen in all those she interacts with, and I know it happens with me.  I feel more capable, more competent, and more confident when I'm around her, because she believes that I can do great things.  And if she believes it, why shouldn't I?!  Michele is fun, warm, engaging, honest, and incredibly intelligent.  She's supportive, but she doesn't pacify or sugarcoat - she expects the best out of me and encourages me to become the best version of myself that I can be.  She has a wonderful relationship with her husband, is an awesome mom to her two great sons, and has a deep and vibrant relationship with Christ.  Plus, as an added bonus, she's one of the funniest people I know.  I feel so blessed to even know her!  

Working for her has been an incredible experience thus far, and I actually hate to leave work at the end of every (very short) day in the office.  I had nearly forgotten what it was like to have have a job I enjoyed, and working as Michele's assistant is a more than welcome reminder of the fact that work can be FUN!

So thanks, Michele, for everything here and more.  You are, simply put, the best.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

100.

It's 10:15, and I've already been up for hours.  I'm already halfway done with my work for the day.  I'm already living.

I'm growing accustomed to the stillness of the morning, the hours before the world awakens and the noise begins.  I love the cool air and the soft light that precedes the sun.  I find great pleasure in the simple fact that I get to see the sun every day, soaking in the small amount of light and warmth it is allowed to release before the clouds roll in and veil it once again before the rest of the city has even opened their eyes.  And most of all, I love that, for perhaps the first time ever, I feel like an adult.  Living on my own, paying my own bills, graduating from college - none of that turned me into an adult, but waking up early every morning, settling into my working world routine, limiting my social activities to the weekends unless they can be finished before 9:00 pm...how very adult of me.  And while there is a significant part of me that already longs for the freedom and unpredictability of my childhood, I am enjoying this new adventure.

In other news, this is my 100th post on this little blog of mine.  I just looked back to see what I was writing a year ago today, and this is what I found.  Funny, isn't it, how much things stay the same, even in the midst of so much change.  And, in light of these things that remain the same in my life, even with the passage of so much time, I'll end with a quote from one of my favorite books:

"it's not love to be static like the desert, nor is it love to roam the world like the wind.  And it's not love to see everything from a distance...Love is the force that transforms and improves the soul." - Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

summer.

I often find myself intimidated by this blank screen.  I put pressure on myself to be brilliant or profound or bare my soul in a way that has never been seen before.

How silly.

Today, I just want to write.  I don't have anything particularly important to say.  But that's okay.  Because today wasn't particularly profound, but it was pleasant.  Pleasant in the way that finds me here, at the end of the day, with a smile gracing my lips and a peaceful quiet in my soul.

I made a new playlist on my iTunes today.  I sat and stared at "untitled playlist" for way too long, waiting for inspiration to strike, needing a brilliant, yet brief, description for that particular collection of tunes.  And then it hit me: "summer."  Because, guess what - it's summer!  It doesn't really feel like summer - the sky is grey, the sun hasn't shown it's face in weeks, the carefree feeling of burden free months off from school doesn't exist anymore.  But summer it is.  And even in it's most dull state, there's still something special about summer.  The days are longer, the air is filled with flower fragrance dancing on the breeze, and everyone seems to smile a little bit more.

So, today I celebrate summer.  May it always bring this pleasant quiet to my soul.