Thursday, January 30, 2014

...the lost art of letter writing...

The light of day has eluded me for 48 hours now, and though I'm on the upswing, I still wasn't ready to venture back into the world. So, in between sleeping, doing laundry, and scouring every hard surface in our home with disinfectant, I took time to write a few letters.

My letter writing days began when I was fresh out of college and had formed a new pen pal – my grandpa! He was a faithful writer, honed throughout four long years away from his high school sweetheart during WWII. At the close of the war, he returned home and married said sweetheart, my grandma. This year will mark their 69th wedding anniversary. So my first letter was to my grandparents.

My second letter was to a girl that we sponsor through an international organization. She is a beautiful young woman, who, at 16, takes care of her family and works hard to succeed in the 8th grade. One of her recent accomplishments: learning to bake a cake! I hope my letters can inspire and encourage her as much as her life inspires and encourages me.

My third letter was to someone I will never know.

It has been estimated that there are between 20 – 30 million slaves worldwide. Yes, slaves. Some are forced into servitude, others into prostitution. It is both heart wrenching and horrifying that slavery persists in our modern day. Thankfully, there are organizations like the A21 Campaign, a movement that seeks to abolish slavery in the 21st century. You can read more about them here. They offer many ways for someone like me to get involved, and today I chose to write a letter to a survivor.

In our digital age, we can lose the significance of a hand written word. There is a bond that happens when we touch the same page that our loved ones hands have grazed. Each word is carefully chosen and each phrase painstakingly composed for the reader's eyes only. Hand written notes take time, and this makes them all the more precious. They are something that we can touch and treasure for years to come.

I've saved the letters my grandfather and I exchanged, and I still read them from time to time. Even now, they are desperately dear to me, because they are tangible reminders of his great love for me.

Perhaps you have someone for whom you can compose a handwritten note. Don't wait. Do it today.

Would you like to see slavery abolished in this century? Here are 21 ways that you can get involved.

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

...when life makes other plans...

Today's post brought to you by water, blue Gatorade, and a pretzel...because they have yet to make a reappearance. 

Almost as soon as I had published yesterday's post, my stomach began to knot itself in ways I don't remember experiencing before. I rested my head on the pillow and tried to convince myself that it would go away if I just fell asleep. Forty-five minutes later, my "day" began. 

I'm sure you can imagine the gory details, so I won't go into them, but I will admit that my face became close friends with our dirty bathroom floor. (Please don't judge me...it was just so cool.) Thinking it was food poisoning, I tried to go back to sleep after what I thought was the worst of it, only to wake up a few hours later to go through the same routine. 

Today's adventure was intended to be drastically different. This was not the "adventure" I wanted to be on. But in my semi-lucid moments between waking and sleeping-of which, this is one-I had time to consider how these microcosmic moments reflected my life as a whole. I had made plans for x, and life had handed me y

When life rearranges all that you have planned, how do you respond? Do you make other plans? Do you find another route to your destination? Do you bust your way through, regardless of any and all obstacles?  Most likely, we've chosen all three at one time or another in our lives. 

Still, no matter what life hands us, we have the ability to choose what we will make of it. 

"When life hands you lemonade, make lemons. Life will be all like, "What?" - brought to you by Phil Dunphy, Modern Family


Tuesday, January 28, 2014

...hug-onomics...


There are moments when I think I might be the most loved person on the planet...

My work days customarily consist of making music, playing instruments, dancing, laughing, and most importantly, hugging. I spend my mornings surrounded by 0 – 4 year olds and their caregivers, be it mom, dad, grandma or nanny. In a mere 45 minutes, we jump and spin and march and fly and jump and sing and dance and wiggle and jump and wave and crawl and play instruments and...did I say jump? (We do a lot of jumping. You can't even begin to imagine how thrilling it is for a young child to learn that he/she can defy gravity.)

It's a great way to begin any day.

I get to rejoice over first steps, singing in tune, keeping a beat, sharing an instrument, helping to clean up – priceless little moments that might be missed if I weren't pointing them out. Then, at the end of the class, during the goodbye song, I open my arms, and welcome any and all who long for a squeeze.

And today, it happened.

There was a mad rush for Ms. Sharon! A sort of stampede of living weeble wobbles! Twelve little bodies all walking, crawling, running, and jumping into my lap. It was utter chaos of the best kind! The pushing, the shoving, the dirty stare downs, the passive-aggressively blocking all others until you get hugged for the third time. It was wonderful!

And kids give the best kinds of hugs!

Unhindered by what is socially acceptable, they simply hold out their arms and fall into you, giving themselves over to your embrace. The kind where they lean into you so completely that you have to stand them back up on their feet. The kind where they squeeze you so tightly around the neck you might choke. The kind where they rest their head on your shoulder and sigh. The kind where you don't want to be the first to let go...and I didn't.

Though I regularly receive many hugs over the course of day, this sudden outburst from the entire class was an unexpected surprise. All day my thoughts have been swirling down a rabbit hole of how loved I am, how blessed I am.

Have you hugged today?

If not, do I need to come over? Hugs have been shown to aid in the healing of loneliness, sickness, depression, anxiety and stress. And the great thing about hugs, is that while you're giving one, you're also getting one! It's amazing! It's incredible! It's marvelous! It's hug-onomics!

Go get you some!

To help you on your quest for more hugs, check out this website on advanced hugging techniques! (Yep, it's an actual website...and it's awesome!)

Monday, January 27, 2014

...the lies we tell ourselves...

I tend to create my own versions of the truth. I think we all do. Our eyes see what they want to see. Our minds believe what they want to believe. And while there used to be little to no information available, there is now a general onslaught of information which makes the truth much more difficult to recognize.

In times like these, it's good to have faithful friends who can dispel the myth and speak the truth. Particularly when we're speaking those lies over ourselves. Sarah is one of those people. If I begin to plunge into my imaginary world, she pushes back with a sort of tender candor that never leaves me feeling judged, but always gives me pause to reconsider. She is practiced in the art of speaking the truth in love.

Today we met up for lunch at Crushed Red, an urban chophouse in Clayton, for some much needed catch up time. She and I can immediately enter into a deep conversation and get lost for an hour before pulling ourselves back into reality. I expect she brings this out in many people. I had never been to Crushed Red before, so she decided to introduce me to the chopped salad. Umm...amazing!! It might be my new fav! It's like Stone Cold Creamery, but with salad! Some of you just cringed, but I dare you to give it a try. Imagine savoring every ingredient in your salad with each bite. It was like salad heaven.

I am a dreamer, but my dreams can take dark turns. I am a believer, but I am also desperately naïve. I've resigned myself to the fact that these will never change. In fact, I sort of think they're part of what's wonderful about me. But they also make me ever more thankful to have people like Sarah in my life.

Who's been speaking truth into you lately?

Sunday, January 26, 2014

...lost for words...

If everyone is different, and everyone experiences situations through a different life perspective, can we truly discern another's heart, feelings or motives regarding any topic?

Today's adventure was time spent with the Wehrles. Some people might wonder if that's actually an adventure. I would say that you don't know the Wehrles. Their friendship is a welcomed respite in a ruptured world. We are so thankful that, though they have crossed into a new stage of life, “the baby stage,” they still choose to spend time with their kid-less friends. It seems silly, but it matters. A lot. And John and Megan are people that know how to live an adventurous life, which makes being around them all that much more fun. They inspire and encourage me to keep living my own adventures each day.

Megan crushing us all at #Qwirkle
As we introduced them to Qwirkle, our conversation topics flew about the room like rolls at Lambert's! (Some of you won't get that. Come to Missouri! We'd love to introduce you to the “home of the tossed roll!”) Some discussions were about past experiences, others were about future adventures, and still others were about current heartaches. And as we chatted, I began to recognize a few of their traits that have become so meaningful to me.

One, it's never seemed that they thought they had the market cornered on our hearts. They recognize that our experiences are singular to us, and they're careful to listen to those experiences as seen through our eyes. Two, they don't try to fix us, they only try to love us. When something sucks, it's just nice to hear someone else say that it sucks. Three, they remain hopeful for us. It's important to be reminded of hope, especially when you want to give up hoping.

We are all flailing through a world of messy relationships, sometimes knowing what to say and do in any given moment or situation, other times stumbling through typical phrases and verses in an attempt to offer some form of comfort. We are so desperate to love our hurting friend, we forget that sometimes quietly standing beside them is what they truly need. More often than not, I am the one searching for the right words. I'm sure that I have hurt many dear friends due to my desperate need to speak into the silence. I'm blessed to know people, like the Wehrles, who can show me what love can look like in difficult situations.

I need to be reminded that those “lost for words” moments may actually be a gift.

Saturday, January 25, 2014

...finger lickin' good...

I might be putting too much pressure on myself to come up with wild and crazy feats to entertain you. Though I long for a life of excitement, I'm an introvert, and quiet time spent thinking and daydreaming is essential for my overall well being.

So, aided by my sore body (yesterday's post) and a brisk winter wind, I decided that my adventure should be to find one Pinterest pin to conquer. After quite some time spent searching through my boards, and making phone calls regarding needed materials, I saw it: the Macaroni Grill inspired rosemary bread. Reading through the recipe, I realized I had all the ingredients. This was the one.

If you've never had the rosemary bread at Macaroni Grill, I'm just so sorry for you. Andy and I love that bread! So warm and fragrant with just the right amount of melt in your mouth goodness. I set to work, pulling out the teeny tiny prep bowls for which I registered that had never been used, and filling them with yeast, sugar, flour, rosemary, butter, and salt. Then, I read and reread those directions until I felt ready to begin.

Baking scares me. Particularly baking with yeast. I've tried countless times in the past and have never had dough that would rise. Dense, inedible, chewy dough loaves were usually what I'd end up throwing away. Thanks to my friend, Laura Falls, who taught me how to bake a cheesecake this past December, I'm feeling a bit more confident in my abilities.

You should have seen me go! I googled things like “which number is the knead setting on my kitchen aid mixer?” and “what is the ratio of fresh herbs to dry herbs?” (I only checked because using ¾ of a jar of rosemary for two loaves of bread seemed excessive.) And it all came together. The yeasty sugar water bubbled, my trusty mixer tossed the ingredient to and fro until they began to look glued together like, umm, paste. Unsure as to what to do I dumped more and more flour into bowl to try to get it less sticky. It ended up being less sticky, but still sticky enough that a good portion of the dough remained cemented to my hands after scraping it into the well oiled bowl. Then, I rested said bowl, covered with a towel, atop the stove to rise.

While the dough was rising I cleaned the counters, swept the floors, wiped out the microwave and wiped down the cabinets, all while catching up on a TV show. Of course, as impatient as I am, I kept lifting up the towel to check if the little lump of dough had doubled...10 minutes...20 minutes...30 minutes...and suddenly it was filling up the bottom of the bowl and climbing up the sides. It was thrilling! But not nearly as wonderful as the wisps of baking bread that flooded the house with the fragrant scent of rosemary.

It was delicious and Andy said I did such a great job! Good thing because we gave the second loaf to our neighbors before trying it. I meant to take a picture, but I was so excited (and hungry) I forgot.


If you want the recipe, I've repinned it to my Pinterest page: An Adventure a Day.

...fear's stranglehold...

Things I learned about myself while pushing my limits at Upper Limits Rock Climbing gym:

One, I might be a tinge terrified of heights. This first became evident when Andy took me skiing for the first time earlier this month and I wept openly on the lift. As tears streamed down my face, my sweet husband rolled his eyes and told me that it (and I) would be fine. I had to insist that he comfort me. He's learned to be much more patient and supportive with his mousy wife. Today, I wasn't able to convince myself to go any further than halfway up the wall. But we'll go again, and I'll set my goal just a little bit higher.

Two, for all the working out I do, I'm super weak! Rock climbing is difficult, folks! If you are an avid rock climber, my spaghetti arms salute you!

Three, my perspective on failure has drastically changed in the last few months. “Bouldering” is basically rock climbing without the ropes. While that might sound scarier, it's not nearly as high, so it's a great place for minor acrophobics to accrue a little courage. Here is the video that Andy took during one of my climbs. Watching this, you might roll your eyes at it's easiness, but it's more challenging than it looks. If you listen carefully, you can hear me say near the top that I can't do it. I was convinced I would fall, and in my yellow mind, the way down was endless. As my arms trembled and my heart doubted, a decision needed to be made. I could begin to climb down until I felt safe enough to jump, or I could push myself further and harder, reaching and risking it all.

Suddenly, the thought of not trying became scarier than the thought of falling.

So I seized anything within my grasp, secured my footing as best as I could, and strong-armed myself over the top of that boulder. Even now as I watch my legs try to stand at the top, tears fill my eyes. Not because I'm so proud of my accomplishment, but because I remember the feeling of fear, and it still overwhelms me.

I suppose we all need to make that decision at some point. I suspect it's a decision that needs to be made more than once over the course of a lifetime. And I sense there will be times when the stakes are much, much higher. There will be moments when the risks will seem too great...but great risks can lead to greater rewards. You must decide.

And you shouldn't expect to walk away unscathed. My battle scars include many sore muscles, a few callouses, and a place on my thumb where I ripped off my skin. But I'm also just a little bit braver, and I believe in myself just a little bit more.

When was the last time you did something that scared you?

Thursday, January 23, 2014

...to the guy at the gym who may (or may not) have laughed at my husband...

Hello. My name is Sharon Kuhn. You laughed at my husband. Prepare to die.

Warning: If you love someone who is committed to making each day of their life an adventure, brace yourself for adventure, because you will inevitably be dragged along. Such is the case with my husband, Andy, who attended his first boot camp class with yours truly today.

I had been encouraging (aka pestering) him to join for sometime, when he suddenly said yes last weekend. I'm so thankful that this is an adventure we'll take together, and I'm fully aware of the sacrifices he has made. Imagine how irritated I became when Andy told me that one of the guys in the gym was staring at him and laughing. At first, I reassured him and encouraged him to brush it off. But as I ruminated on it, I began nonchalantly asking Andy questions, like, if the guy was still in the gym, and would he point him out. He refused to answer – probably for the best.


To that guy:
Why was Andy taking a boot camp class? Because he's a wonderful husband! Because when his wife received bad news he wanted to love her by spending time with her in her way. The man you were laughing at set aside his pride and did squats and pushups and weird stepper exercises (some that he hilariously couldn't follow!) and so much more with a bunch of ladies simply because he loves his wife. Make no mistake: he wasn't showing his weakness, he was showing his strength.

When we venture our feet onto a new path, others will voice countless concerns and try to convince us to go in another direction. They may laugh, they may stare, they may scoff, but don't let that deter you. You keep pressing on. And don't let your heart be hardened. 

Back to that guy:
Of course, there's always the chance that you were laughing because you saw how much I adored my husband for putting me before his ego. Or you might have been laughing at the goofy grin plastered on my face every time I looked at him. Maybe you were laughing because you, too, love someone so much that you would go to great lengths to show your love. I choose to believe this, because that's the kind of person I choose to be. But if I'm wrong, watch out! There's a group of boot camp ladies that will gladly leave class to give you a piece of their minds. Remember, there's ten of us and one of you...

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

...who am i...

...without a knowledge of our history, can we ever know ourselves?

As St. Louis celebrates it's 250th birthday this year, I resolved to make the Missouri History Museum one of my many adventures. It's sad that after all my time as a resident, I have never been. So, armed with only an hour, and a determined spirit, I apprehensively entered the building.

Immediately unsure and uncomfortable, I blurted my virgin status to a small elderly woman seated behind an oversized counter. She peered over her glasses, slipped me a map, and told me that most people started in the World's Fair exhibit. (For those of you that don't know, St. Louis hosted the 1904 World's Fair, also known as the Louisiana Purchase Exposition.) I quietly toured the halls, audio guide in hand, and gazed at the old relics pristinely preserved in glass. And as I peered into our past, I giggled, and grimaced, at our similarities.

Move over North and Hashtag! The first baby born on the grounds of the St. Louis fair was christened “Louisiana Purchase O'Leary.” Her father, a construction worker for the fair, wanted her to have a unique and meaningful name. Yes, Louisiana lived to be over 100 years old, and is said to have been very proud of her name.

Performance enhancer, anyone? St. Louis hosted the first Olympic Games held in the United States during the World's Fair. This marathon race is said to be one of the most notorious in race history. Runners suffered through sweltering heat as they were chased by dogs down dusty and difficult roads with little water to quench their thirst. They used drugs and alcohol to endure the course and cheating was common. (The winner of the race was aided to the finish line by strychnine and brandy.) Of the 31 participants, only 14 finished.

Throughout history, we see these enduring patterns of human nature. At our core, we are very much the same. And when we understand who we are, we are more apt to offer grace to those journeying alongside us, no matter what stage of the journey they might be in.

(Did you know they still have World Fairs? The next one will be held in Italy in 2015! Shall we all meet up there?)  

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

...preparations...

I ran five miles today... (mmm hmm)
Without stopping... (yep)
Pretty fast... (oh yeah)
Okay, sorta fast... (sigh)

Running isn't new to me. I'm the girl that runs because she loves cakes, cookies, and other sweets, and you know what, that's a completely valid reason to run. Several years ago I stopped running due to some unforeseen health issues that presented themselves during a cool down, of all things. But, after a surgery last winter, I'm back on track, and I have big plans!

Each day presents itself with many opportunities to go out on “mini” adventures. These tiny triumphs become the stepping stones toward even greater ventures! They mold and prepare us, embolden and ignite us...sometimes they discourage and destroy us, blister and bruise us...but they give us the freedom to determine our own destiny and shape our story. Stepping out into a mini adventure can seem obnoxiously obtuse, in part because it feels more like obligatory work and not like an adventure at all. But they are necessary requirements for any amazing journey!

What mini adventures shaped your day today?

...to be continued...

Monday, January 20, 2014

...the mountaintop...

Sometimes kids just say it best...

I have been listening to and reflecting on the speeches of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. today. Honestly, I don't remember ever hearing them before. Even if I had heard him in my youth, my child's mind could hardly have comprehended the gravity of his words. And while I Have a Dream is his most famous speech, I am most moved by I Have Been to the Mountaintop. You can find the full speech here.

In this particular speech, MLK, Jr. muses about standing with God at the beginning of all time, when God poses this question: “Martin Luther King, which age would you like to live in?” Dr. King eloquently describes numerous times and places throughout history, Egypt and the exodus, the great minds of Greece, the Roman Empire, the Renaissance, the church of Wittenberg, and the Emancipation Proclamation, until finally settling on the 2nd half of the 20th century, the exact time and place that God had reserved for him.

Dr. King understood that he was born into that time and place for a reason. He knew he had a purpose and he was faithful to that call. He worked tirelessly to convince the American people to live up to the principles on which their nation was founded. He was stabbed, arrested, hosed, imprisoned, had his house bombed, and yet continued to preach non violence. Dr. King closed his speech by saying that he had been to the mountaintop, looked over the mountain and seen the Promised Land.

I long for a mountaintop moment...

Too frequently I feel like my life is shrouded in a thick fog. As I step and stumble, I question whether I'm getting closer or further away from my destination...somedays, I'm not even sure where I'm going. But I'm beginning to understand that there are many long days, weeks, months, even years, when one can only see just in front of us.  The struggle of walking by faith, trudging one foot in front of the other, trusting that there will be solid ground beneath your feet, is a necessary part of the journey. Without it, would we fully recognize and appreciate our Promised Land?

The day after giving this speech, Dr. King was murdered on a hotel balcony. He was 39 years old.

As I listened to his words, I wondered...do I believe anything so dearly, so passionately, that I have given myself, both my living and my dying, up for it?

If it's been a while since you've listened to a MLK, Jr. speech, let me encourage you listen to a few this week. I promise it will be worth your time.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

...the problem of evil...

If God is good, why is there evil and suffering in the world? This question has plagued us for centuries. I tend to wonder about this myself whenever I hear of young children who are suffering from terminal diseases. Meet Margot Martini.

I was recently introduced to Margot's story through another online blog. This 17 month old little girl is suffering from a rare combination of cancers and is in need of a bone marrow transplant. Her parents embarked on a donor appeal with thisYouTube video on Christmas Eve, and many people in the UK have been coming forward to register and be swabbed, but they are still unable to find a match for Margot.

So I registered today. I registered for Margot. I registered for a family friend, Alex, who is not yet three and suffers from leukemia. And I registered for people I may never know. Soon I will get my swab kit. In fact, they'll send me two kits, so if anyone in the STL area wants to have a swab party with me, first one to respond gets the second swab. Who knows if I'll be a match for anyone, but it's worth opening myself up to. You, too, can register, be swabbed and save a life. Maybe you will be the one to save Margot's life. You'll never know until you try.

How you choose to answer the problem of evil is up to you. There are some wrestling matches that take us a lifetime, and even if we collect all the best answers, only we can make a final decision on what we believe is correct. Whatever the case, it seems as if, at least in this instance, we have been given the opportunity to counteract evil with good. We can make a difference. We can save a life.

How will you respond?

Follow Margot's story here on Facebook, or here on Twitter.

You can find out more about how to register and donate here.

UPDATE: After 7 weeks, and 50,000 new registrants, a bone marrow donor was found for Margot. Yay!!! While it's not a perfect match, the doctors are extremely hopeful.  Stay up-to-date on her story via the Facebook or Twitter links above.

...and then her hair caught on fire...

Initially I was drawn to this particular activity because I had misread the flyer. I thought it said: The Ice CREAM Festival. Imagine my disappointment at discovering it actually read: The ICE Festival. Upon realizing my error, I considered finding some other adventure for the day, but when Andy agreed to go with me, I decided we could brace ourselves against the blustery winter day and appreciate the impressive art of ice sculpting together.

Held annually in the fabled Delmar Loop, the Ice Festival features human dog sled races, ice slides, the putt putt pub crawl, tattoo scavenger hunts, game booths, and, of course, ice carving demonstrations. But I was only interested in watching two skydivers from the Red Bull Air Force Dive Team descend from the sky and land gingerly in front of the iconic Moonrise Hotel.

As we congregated with other onlookers and turned our gaze to the skies, three young hula dancers began their performance right where the skydivers were set to drop. Not yet masters of their craft, they still put on an impressive show. Midway through their act, they laid aside their hula hoops, and took up fire fans. This was when one of the dancers, probably just a teenager, first caught my eye.

Her smile was like sunshine, and she smiled with her eyes, not just her lips. As she waved the flaming fans about, I was astonished at how closely she brought them to her body. Then, without warning, flames began to lick her bushy side bun. Desperate to alert her to the danger, members of the audience frantically called out “Your hair's on fire!!” She responded by shaking her head, patting out the flame, and finishing the dance...with a smile on her face! (Makes one wonder how many times that's happened.) *scratches fire fan dancing off the adventure list* A moment later, ladies dressed as penguins informed us that, due to weather, the skydiving had been cancelled. I didn't mind...I had just seen a girl on fire.

We can make many plans, but true adventures tend to have a story of their own to share. If we only open ourselves to what we can know or expect or control, we could very easily miss out on some of the greatest adventures of our lives.   

Friday, January 17, 2014

...Frozen spoiler alert...

Some adventures don't go as planned. On this particular day I envisioned a positive outcome to our adventure, that I would regale you with hopeful stories of our future, but that simply isn't the case. In fact, I walked away reminded that this isn't a story I ever wanted to be living. It's not been a great day...

As we drove away from the office, Andy asked me if I wanted to see a movie. I asked him to decide as I was unable, unwilling, uninterested. He is a good companion. Faithful, courageous, stoic, unchanging in the face of misfortune. He is my Samwise. Should I fall, I am convinced he would pick me up and carry me to our destination. So he decided that we should buy two slices of cheesecake and sneak them into an afternoon showing of Disney's Frozen.

If you have not seen Frozen, one, go see it right away! Completely worth the time and cost. Two, do not read on any further...I mean it...don't you do it! If you have seen Frozen, please read on.

In every way, this animated film was just a pleasure to watch.  My husband and I both loved it, and we're both pretty picky about movies. The actors were superb in their characterizations, and the story was moving. I cried through most of it, though I'm not sure if that was because of the movie or because of the news we had received.

*SPOILER* When Anna receives a blow of ice to her heart, from none other than her sister, she and her companions are told that only an act of true love can thaw her heart and save her life. Her friends (one of whom is a hilarious snowman played by Josh Gad) seek to get her to the one who will give her true love's kiss and break the spell. At the climax, Anna chooses to sacrifice herself so her sister won't be killed, and this is the act of true love that breaks the curse.

It was a wonderful twist, and I was struck that she broke the spell by performing an act of true love, not receiving an act of true love. It made me consider how unfulfilling my journey will be if it's only to please myself. Now I'm asking, how will I sacrifice myself and my desires this year? Who can I bless on this journey?


The hardest part about committing yourself to an adventure a day? Finding new and exciting adventures! If you have any ideas for adventures I can go on this year, I'd appreciate your input!   

Thursday, January 16, 2014

...traveling companions...


Today, Kate and I hiked through Powder Valley. Though I've lived here for many years, I had never sought to explore Powder Valley, preferring to stick to familiar parks and trails. We bundled ourselves up against the crisp, cold air, and beat the chill with a fierce stride through the hills and valleys of the small nature reserve. Chattering on and on, we barely noticed the stark trees, the faint murmur of the stream, the ominous sky. We were so entrenched in our conversation that it surprised us to arrive back at our starting point, and we might have missed it had not been for this doe. Unfazed by and unafraid of our presence, she continued to search for food among the dead leaves. We quietly passed her to take the loop a second time, not feeling that our time was finished.



Kate is living her grand adventure. She left the comfort and security of a successful music teaching gig and went to grad school in hopes of pursuing a singing career. She has been a soloist with the St. Louis Symphony, has been in numerous operas, and has been the featured guest for many concerts. You can find out more about her here. She works hard to make her dream a reality, and she does it with immeasurable grace. She is sweet, kind, quiet, and thoughtful and she chooses each word carefully, as if to get the most out of it.

As we walked I thought that, while I loved this new adventure, I loved the company more...

Some adventures were made to be taken with others. With whom will you journey this year? I'd love to hear about it.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

...and so it begins...

Isn't that the truth?

We tend to believe that our lives should look a certain way because of what we see in the lives of others, or what we're told our lives should look like by (mostly) well meaning people, or what we've placed on ourselves. But if the breadth and depth of our lives resembled the lives of others, wouldn't we be living carbon copies, unoriginal, undistinguished, inconsequential? Without a doubt, that is the safer route, but is that really what we want?

I had a picture in my mind of how it was supposed to be at this point, and every major life decision I made reflected that picture. But as days go by, and fantasy and reality pull themselves further apart, I'm beginning to realize that I may need to re-examine what is possible for me, and re-imagine what my life could be.

Life doesn't come to us neatly packaged and prepared, ready to be unwrapped and enjoyed. It is much more like the metamorphosis of a butterfly (or like the “birthing” of the orcs in Lord of the Rings.) It's scary, gross, messy, slimy, slippery with many falls and failures, broken dreams and bruised hearts. But mostly, the journey is unknown, and this is the scariest of all...

...but these are also the ingredients found in the very best stories. And I'm beginning to realize that I cannot be happy with anything less than a great adventure...

So maybe this blog is just for me, a personal journal that will keep me accountable to writing my life's story. But maybe it can be for you, too. Maybe you can be encouraged, or inspired, or comforted. So come along with me. I could use the company.

Are you ready?