cynic.

I guess mostly I am tired of trying to be relevant and cool and unusual in a world where I don't necessarily agree with every thing that happens most of the time. I don't want to have a kick-ass wedding where all the guests take home incredible souvenirs and we go on this amazing vacation and move to a beautiful city and I walk my dog down (mostly) safe streets to meet my new friends at some hidden, delicious coffee shop that turns into a bar after 8pm.
I want to live near my nieces or my mom and dad or my cool soon to be in-laws. I don't want Brian and I to have the same smile. Or clothes. I want to feel like I'm the most fashionable one in our trio. I can try.
I don't want to go to the opera or a movie or a play or a concert and pretend that I enjoyed it if I didn't. I don't really want to sit around and talk about your compost pile or sustainably sourced flooring or how your neighbor moved his entire apartment with only "bike power" either.

I still really like Starbucks chai tea lattes. I'm trying to not be embarrassed about this.

I am a normal, simple, ice water and beach-mornings kind of person. I have no intention of occupying wall street or anything else for that matter. I can't guarantee we'll have much to talk about or that you'll even find me a walk's-worh of interesting. But let's meet up and take one anyway. Unless you'd rather jog? Which, in that case, never mind.

This year

I want to be a good steward.

The Quiet

Confession.
For most of my life I have been shy. There may have been approx. 3 weeks of my entire existence where I pretended to be an extrovert (probably around the time I started college), but deep down I knew my heart couldn't take it for long. This is truth: I am shy; I am quiet; I am oftentimes (I hope unbeknownst to others) terribly worrisome and may be guilty of thinking too much. Okay, okay, I think too much. It still makes me a little sad when I finish a good book, because I invest in the characters and feel like I'm losing a group of really cool friends. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing; but you see what I mean.
So I find it interesting that I gravitate towards those who are not as quiet as I have been. Many of my friends are and can be (for lack of a more graceful description) loud. They are boisterous and in charge and have fun and reap the benefits of being known. And for that I am grateful. Maybe if I had too many friend who were just like me we'd all sit around and say nice things about each other. Which sounds cute, but could become terribly boring after about 20 minutes.

I guess what I am saying is this: I have grown up in the boisterous and in charge and have fun, but instead have become the gentle, deferential, and speak softly. It is not so much an ultimatum as an internal observation, and as for this time of year, I think it's a pretty good place for me to be.

on being happy. and forever.

I used to think when I was younger that one day I would be engaged and get married. I didn't think much beyond that. (i.e. dress, flowers, location, food, music, etc.?) I did think about who my husband would be, and sometimes, in my more enlightened moments, would send up a little prayer for him to the Clouds asking Jesus to keep him safe, and not kiss too many other girls, and other important things like that. Now that I am engaged, I still think about my future husband, except now he is very real, and very much a human, and all those other things that another being should be.
There have been so many times where I find myself in flustered frustration, wishing that this God that I follow and love and try to emulate was present in flesh and bone. If only I could see Him or hug Him or touch the edge of His robe!
And I am reminded that a wise man once said, "I was hungry and you fed me, I was thirsty and you gave me a drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you bailed me out." And the righteous replied, " When did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you a drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?" And the King answered them, "This is truth: whatever you have done to the least of these, you have done to me."
I am finding that the least of these aren't necessarily the "least." They could be the most, or the smartest, or have really nice things, or just a shit ton of money. And that bothers me, why, again? Maybe my leasts aren't your leasts, or maybe they are, but here is a truth: Jesus is here in flesh and bone and he has been ever since he went back up to the Clouds to hang out with his Father. And so I need to be reminded. In not complaining when Brian wants to listen to sports on the radio, or not freaking out when my mother calls and wants to talk about the "wedding plans." Hey! These are little things! And in the grand scheme of things, they are probably even that much littler. But they are a constant reminder that whatever I do to others, I do to that Being I claim to follow and love. If followers of the way treated others as though they were meeting with Jesus, I'm pretty sure there would be a lot of others followers just itching to join in on the journey. Maybe a lot less cynicism about this particular faith, in general.
Oh, just something to think about.

all right?

I may have forgotten what it feels like to simply exist without an agenda beyond waking up, exercising, working, playing with Goose, and falling asleep.
It is a humbling process.

on investing your love.

A friend of mine recently lamented? exclaimed? that I had "everything" I wanted. And even though I couldn't tell if it was unmet longing or cryptic relief on their part, I couldn't help but think that everything I have now could very well be all I ever need. Forever? Perhaps. It seems idealistic of me to confess that at 24 years old, I can't possibly imagine anything else that I need to be content. It is only a feeling you know if you have it, but also a feeling you know if you don't.
At church today, we prayed a lot of peace prayers, lighting little tealights around the unity candle, and I couldn't deny the overwhelming sense of peace that passes my ideas of self and others and the world. I also couldn't deny the realization that I have stopped comparing myself to others, or, at least, have not dwelt on it as strongly as before.
I think it's a freedom that's just as real as what most Americans are honoring today.

on taking the time.

It's hard to follow up my last entry with something worthwhile, but this is important, so I thought it best to share.

I was talking with my partner (Brian, my fiance(!), ex-boyfriend,etc.) the other day about the state of my finances. Oh, wait, i mean the state of my lack of fiances, and maybe starting to complain a little bit about how I have barely enough to "get by" without any unexpected circumstances dropping in along the way. And he humored me for a little while, but at one point he said, "Hey, I get it, I do. I live at home with my parents. I probably won't be making any money till next summer. (yikes) But there comes a point where obsessing so much over money, well, it just becomes wrong. Sinful, even."

And I was somewhat caught off-guard by his bluntness, but also the truth in his observation. I have spent many hours, let's say, finagling my budget to a 30 hour work week. It's tough. But, I have spent even more hours worrying about how aforementioned budget will actually work if my insurance goes up or gas gets more expensive or how I will have a social life outside of the 93012. I have also relinquished my gold card status at Starbucks. I didn't think it would be so hard. But, habits are habits, and something about those is tough to let go of.

All that to say, I still have a pretty sparkly ring on the appropriate finger, a very dear friend to be with for a long time, one of "the cutest puppies...ever" (per passerby's comments), a good car, and even better people surrounding my often worrisome, but always hopeful heart.

And for right now (for forever?), this is enough.