"Let all your things be done with charity." {1 Corinthians 16:14}

i've been thinking a lot about understanding people.

and how it takes knowing someone for longer than a day, or a month, or a year, or even a lifetime, to really understand the ins and outs of who they are and why they are who they are.

there is always more to learn about someone.

new ways to love them.

better perspective.

i've been thinking a bit about how everyone is different.

and everyone has different struggles.

and i've realized that the things that come naturally for me, don't always come naturally for others.

honestly, i hadn't really thought about that before.

and i've been feeling pretty grateful.

for all i have been blessed with.

which is a lot.

and i think this understanding that people are different only increases my love for them.

because it's nice to remember that i'm not the only one who isn't perfect.

and that we're all trying.

and fighting our different battles.

and that, in the end, it's not about winners or losers.

it's about who is still standing on the battle field, when the war is finally over,

and there is finally peace on earth.

"Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth..."

1 Corinthians 13:4-8

image via deviantart

i don't wanna sit on the pavement while you fly, but I will*

Sometimes you just have to throw your hair up into a messy bun,
and shrug off the world,

and realize that no matter what is driving you absolutely mad right now,

There is always new air to breathe tomorrow.

image via sabino

*ingrid, you rock. that's all.

long time coming

" She leaned over to him and said, 'we've been in love for so long.'
He said, 'you're the only girl I've ever loved, and I've loved you since I was 15.' "

Congratulations to my friends Kortney and Clayton!
(they got married on Friday)

If you ask me, they've been made for each other since they were in high school, and I'm so happy for them.

nothing wrong with a little change

Love-to-be:

Please choose your occupation because it's something you love, not simply because it will make you loads of money.

I've told you before, it's not about the money.

I will love you just as much for your passion for what you do as for the inventive ways we will stretch our dollars.

Love it enough to do it for 20, 30 or 40 years, but love me enough to let it mellow into a conversation topic when you come home.

Let it be your profession, your passion, but not your life.

I always admire men who choose a career that may not be the most financially cushy, but that is something they truly enjoy.

So. Whatever you choose to do, do it with passion.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with being a doctor or a lawyer or even an advertising man. There is no reason you should feel guilty for making six figures. That would just give us more opportunities to do good, and I would love that.

All of this is just to say that if what acts as your figurative cup of coffee in the morning is the thought of teaching 17-year olds about The Cold War or mitosis or Shakespeare, we will be just fine.

We'll live in a small*, older house, with chipped paint and a kitchen table we'll refinish ourselves.

We'll find adventures in weekend camping trips and coveted nights out, but mostly in good conversation and great food.

Made by yours truly, of course.

We'll learn to save our pennies and nickels and dimes and when we finally have enough to take that big trip to Europe or South America or Africa that we've always wanted to take, we'll appreciate it that much more.

So, dear, do what you love, love what you do, and love me too.

*I don't much care for housework, anyway. So, in my opinion, the less house to clean, the better.

image via deviantart

Some Kind of Story, Part Four

She remembered a time when all it took to make her swoon was an acoustic guitar and letting a boy teach her how to play the first few bars of "Smoke on the Water."

A time before drum sets and the boys that sat behind them.

A time when butterflies were triggered by rainy day love songs and that spunk and confidence that always seems to come with being a musician.

She remembered a time when unpredictable was exciting and returned affection was maybe too much to take.

But now she dreams of bare feet on hardwood floors and mortgage payments and disagreements over paint colors.

A life that, though imperfect, will be perfect for her.

And butterflies that never get old.

solitary soul

Things I love doing by myself*:

-watching movies

-shopping...because I can take my time

-getting lost in a used bookstore

-reading one of those used books, while drinking hot cocoa with a shot of hazelnut at a quaint little coffee shop.
-learning about the wonders (and not so pretty aspects) of mass transit

Next week I am going home for my friends' wedding (two friends from high school who are getting married to each other), and I get to explore the wonderful city of Portland.

I'm getting into the city in the morning, but I'm not meeting up with friends until afternoon or evening.

But, you see, I planned this.

I love exploring new places, and don't mind doing that by myself at all.
I fully plan on getting lost in Powell's City of Books for at least two hours.

After which, I will probably meander over to Mio Gelato for a bambino of donatella gelato.

I want to find a great place for lunch. I'm thinking maybe Indian food.

I'll probably spend some time at Oblation Papers & Press and Everyday Music.

But, most of all, I hope to find a new favorite place to visit when I go to Portland. A bakery, or restaurant, or record store.

And I hope to feel a bit more like a city girl, and a little bit more like a more grown up.

image via google

*this is not to say that I don't enjoy doing these things with other people.

I only wanna break break oh break break breakdown.

To do list for this week:

Stay alive.

Keep breathing.

Learn to juggle.

image via deviantart

I sing the songs of the glory of you

{I am always a little awestruck at beautiful pictures of "old love." love that has never let the butterflies die. love that has tired hands and feet, no longer tired from the searching, but from continuously walking and reaching toward that same love they spent so long searching for. from carrying a load that was too much for one pair of hands. from working together to cultivate that kind of love. the kind that lasts forever.}

..........................................................
"Whoever you are, I fear you are walking the walks of
dreams,
I fear these supposed realities are to melt from under your
feet and hands, Even now your features, joys, speech, house, trade, manners,
troubles, follies, costume, crimes, dissipate away from you,

Your true soul and body appear before me,
They stand forth out of affairs, out of commerce, shops,
work, farms, clothes, the house, buying, selling, eating,
drinking, suffering, dying.

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you
be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your ear,
I have loved many women and men, but I love none better
than you.

O I have been dilatory and dumb, I should have made my way straight to you long ago,
I should have blabb'd nothing but you, I should have chanted
nothing but you.

I will leave all and come and make the hymns of you,
None has understood you, but I understand you,
None has done justice to you, you have not done justice to
yourself
...
O I could sing such grandeurs and glories about you!
You have not known what you are, you have slumber'd upon
yourself all your life, Your eyelids have been the same as closed most of the time,

What you have done returns already in mockeries, (Your thrift, knowledge, prayers,
if they do not return in
mockeries, what is their return?)
...
There is no virtue, no beauty in man or woman, but as good
is in you, No pluck, no endurance in others, but as good is in you,
No pleasure waiting for others, but an equal pleasure waits
for you.
...
I sing the songs of the glory of you.
…
Through angers, losses, ambition, ignorance, ennui, what
you are picks its way."

-Walt Whitman, To You

(full version here)
image via vi.sualize.us

the beautiful world

"If there is a sin against life, it consists perhaps not so much in despairing of life as in hoping for another life and in eluding the implacable grandeur of this life."

-Albert Camus

This day I pledge to stop taking the beauty of this life for granted.
To enjoy the hot and the cold
To ride rough tides and relax in smooth waters
To climb hills and fall into valleys
To appreciate haves and learn from the have nots

This day I pledge to fall in love every day with a new aspect of this existence
And to give thanks
Because love is only alive when it's recreated every day


This day I pledge to bask in the grace and the goodness of God
And to renew that childlike wonder
And to give love to all
Even those who don't seem to deserve it
Especially those who don't seem to deserve it

Because this life is what I make of it, so I'll make it wonderful.

image via vi.sualize.us

pitter pat

{Colby posted this image on Pray Hard. Live Easy today. She always has the most perfect quotes and such beautiful pictures.}

All I have to say is, frankly, I don't mind being barefoot in the kitchen.

image seen at prayhard.liveeasy

He was never one to sit and watch television.

He would sit cross-legged on top of the tube, look out the window and watch the world outside.

He saw people mulling around, in their various costumes, walking to work, to play, to eat.

Dressed to impress, dressed for success, dressed with distress.

He would imagine their lives and write their stories on the invisible pages of the future. Not the story that everyone knew; the obvious, surface-level travelogue of day-to-day happenings.

But the story that was waiting, wanting to be told. The story they wanted desperately to tell, but did not know where to begin.

Or who would listen.

Because maybe the story didn't have a happy ending.

Or maybe it didn't have an ending at all...

image via deviantart

The massive, annual, hopeful, probably too long, list of summer goals:

Books I want to read/finish (at least a few of them this summer...):

-Finish Zorro

-Finish Deep Economy

-Michael Pollan's Food Rules

-Let the Great World Spin

-Finish the Alchemist

-Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Concerts I want to go to:

-Ryan Star...it's this Saturday, so...not likely, but it would be awesome

-Carbon Leaf..next Monday!

-Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers (in September)

-Twilight Series (concerts, not vampires)? Beirut?

Movies I want to watch:

-Karate Kid

-He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not (for like the 4th time...but oh well)

-Letters to Juliet

-Adam

-The September Issue

-Coco avant Chanel

And...

-make enough money to pay tuition in the fall (car wash? bake sale? garage sale?

-continue to work in the adlab

-go to the farmers market

-eat all the bing cherries I want

-make a batch of freezer jam

-make a loaf or two of semolina bread with basil butter

-really improve my rumba, so when gold latin auditions come around...

-eat less cheese

-learn a few more phrases in French or Italian (besides "Je ne comprends pas" or "Parlo un po' d'italiano")

I'm making a goal to read something every day. The newspaper, a book, Ad Age. Anything.

And you can hold me to it. In fact, please do.

image via vi.sualize.us


"what you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, will affect everything. it will decide what gets you out of bed in the mornings, what you do with your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you. fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything."

- pedro arrupe

Born in the 80s

So what if I'm too young to really remember this song?

But I'm loving it.

Not sure why.

And maybe I wouldn't have followed John Waite's tour bus all over the country.

Or had posters of him all over my walls.

Or listened to his music nonstop on my walkman.

But I do like this song.

And the oh-so-80s sense of the music video.

Some Kind of Story, Part Three

And though playing it safe was comfortable.

And easy.

Most of the time,

She still craved that sense of recklessness.

The unexpected, the spontaneous.

The untested waters.

And though new things made her a bit uneasy,

the uneasiness was not always a bad thing.

Some Kind of Story, Part Two

She'd always played it pretty safe.

She could be spontaneous about the little things.

The midnight food runs, the impulse buys, the making of friends and the trusting of those friends.

But love?

Love was not something she ever did without thinking.

In fact, she thought about it a lot.

And she wondered if maybe she did a little too much wondering and dreaming and writing.

And not enough leaping.

Some Kind of Story, Part One

She was never one to go for the lead singer.

She liked drummers.

Almost hidden behind shaggy hair and a stack of hi-hats.

Keeping the beat.

They seemed steady, but reckless at the same time.

And always so much about the music.

And not so much the spotlight.

No band is complete without one.

And neither was she.

I've started so many posts in the last week. Finished a few. Saved others half-finished.

But none were ready to post. Some may be too personal. Some may take knowing me for years to really understand. Maybe I'll post those another day.
But for now, I think a simple list will suffice.

Because, after all, it's sunny outside. So why not make one of those random, out-of-order, I-love-life kind of lists?

I love...
-barefeet on hardwood floors
-new clothes
-letting my hair air dry
-hearing how happy my sister sounds
-feeling missed and needed
-when people tell me that I look like my mom
-greek food, especially when I get to enjoy it with my dad.
-phone calls, just to chat
-nutella
-waking up and feeling rested
-having a wee bit more time, now that I'm not in classes
-just feeling genuinely happy and content with life.

image via deviantart

I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop I love so much

I've always loved coffee shops.

Not for the coffee, because I don't drink coffee. (though they generally have killer hot cocoa)

But because of the atmosphere and the energy.

They just seem like creative spaces.

And I love that.

There's something really endearing about the boy in this video. Maybe it's that he seems like more of a boy getting into mischief than a man looking for his soulmate.

Maybe he's both.

Either way, I'm digging the video.

ps: I just checked out a couple of his other songs, and love love love this one.

cannonball into the water

My natural reaction, when it comes to with those things called men, is to let the other girl win, (assuming there is another girl).

I don't like head-to-head competition. Maybe it's that I'm scared to lose. Or maybe it's that I think it's petty and pointless.

Either way, I tend to take the route of becoming really good friends with that guy, figuring that he'll only ever see me as that, but hoping that someday, when the other girl breaks his heart, he'll realize that I'm better for him than she ever was.

Because I was there.

Because I knew him better.

Because I never took him for granted.

And maybe he'll start to see me as the kind of friend that lasts forever.

{ Now, I could end this post right now. But you would all think that I haven't learned anything from this way of thinking, or from the past few almost loves I've had. }

But that way of thinking is a dream.

It's the exception, not the rule (to quote "He's Just Not That Into You.")

It's selling myself short because I'm too scared of what might not be.

I think I've been too passive, in an attempt to not be overbearing, when it comes to those things called men. I see girls that are like that, and wonder why they just don't get that the guy they want is, well, just not that into them.

I never thought that maybe they look at me and wonder why I never go after what I want.

I have to remind myself that I don't just deserve to be fought for, but that I owe it to myself to fight at least a little bit for who I want.

Because he's worth fighting for, or even fighting over.

And how is anyone supposed to know who I am or what I have to offer, if I never show them or tell them or give them a little bit of myself?

I'm really good at being "the friend." I know that.

But it's comfortable. Maybe too comfortable.

Maybe it's time to start giving myself credit.

It's a little exercise in confidence.

It's a little exercise in trusting my heart.

It's a little exercise in hoping for the best.

Throwing away the safety net.

Forgetting about Plan B.

And leaping into the unknown,

heart pounding,

fingers shaking,

but with gusto and faith.

image via sabino

{Thoughts? I'm interested to see what people think about this whole "fighting for what you want" thing. So comment. Because who doesn't love comments?)

Much Ado

I found out from one of my favorite New Yorkers, Miss Meg Fee, that Provo is doing Much Ado About Nothing.

June 11th and 12th.

Outside.

FREE.

My favorite kind of theatre.

Who'll go with me?