eye on the (grand)prize

"You're never too old to become younger."
-Mae West

I have a question. Why do we grow up in regard to almost everything but prizes? My dad thinks it's really weird that I refuse to go to a local Chevron station that has better gasoline, all because I have to get my Speedway rewards points. He has said "so you're putting less quality gas in your car which will end up being bad for your car, costing you money eventually..all because you want to get a $100 gift card from Speedway that took you 3 years to obtain?" My answer "yes, you got it."

My friends and I went out for a drink last night and here was the conversation:
me: I have a confession. You know how the gas pumps at that one speedway have been broken down for awhile. well i've been going to another gas station every few days putting just $10 in because i don't want to fill up and then the speedway reopen!
c: I don't think there's anything weird about that.
b: I love points.
c: remember gattiland? all that money spent playing those games, getting those points, all to get a slinky?
me: i bet i still have points at gattiland from back in the day.
c: let's go there for supper club thursday next week.
b: cool. good idea.

(me is obviously me. c and b are a girl and guy that i meet on thursdays for supper club. using c and b instead of their names because , who knows, i could leak their names, and i could suddenly get so much blog traffic that they become famous. and maybe they don't want to become famous? baha)

So in the next week you can find me filling up my gas tank just a fourth of the way in hopes that when I'm low again, speedway will be open again so i can go back to getting my points. And when you see me next ask me how much I had to spend to get the grand prize of a slap bracelet or a ruler at gattiland.

yes my friends yes. i'm going places.

"It takes a long time to become young." -Pablo Picasso

the ones that have mattered, so far.

I am borderline obsessed with love. Ok, that's a lie. I crossed the border years ago. I am in love with love. I love talking about it, feeling it, and reading about it. But deepdown, who isn't?

Recently I was talking to a 16 year old and it dawned on me that she was a decade younger than me! A decade! Suddenly I knew why I felt so removed from her high school mentality , it was because I hadn't been there in 10 years! Ten. Wow. As she talked about her infatuation with a boy, I sat back and listened. It was like taking a walk down memory lane, listening to her describe the highs and lows of her summer of love. It hit me how many times I've been in her shoes. Truly caring about someone, without weighing the consequences or cost of putting my heart on the line.

Three names came to mind as I listened. Three names of boys that reminded me that I too had once fallen head over heels when I was young (i know, i know, i'm still young. But i'm talking YOUNG, as in a kid). I say boys because when I knew them, none of them were men yet. It was so intriguing to revisit the years, the decade she was just entering, between the ages of 15 and 25, and look at my younger self. Because in the past year, I have really grown. I still live to the hilt, but I don't serve my heart on a silver platter to someone that hasn't shown that he will attempt not to crush it. I also try not to crush hearts either. Because it's not fun being broken hearted and it's not fun hurting another. So here I go. The ones during the decade of learning for the sake of learning...

First...the one that I wanted to surf with, even though I can't surf--this was my naïve love. the person that could have dyed his hair green, gained 6359 pounds, and could have asked me to move to Tokyo and I would in turn dyed my hair a color that complimented his hair color, eaten all those meals with him if he wanted to stay fat, and fled the country for the land of Tokyo. Looking back I know now why he once said "we don't have much in common", but at the time I just kept thinking "but we both have the same kind of car that are so old they must have come over on noahs ark, together, and isn't that ENOUGH?!" No it wasn't enough. In fact, opposites attract, and then they aggravate. And boy, do they ever aggravate. But now, years later, when I think back and look at that young girl, a girl who was so innocent and thought she could change the world, taming one wild boy at a time, I can't help but smile and shake my head. I want to go back to that girl and say to her "you'll be ok. I know this feels like the end of the world. But I promise you, you'll be ok."

the one who took a lot of pictures, no really A LOT of pictures -- this one ignited a part of me that still remains. He sparked my intense love affair with photography and even though he's not a part of my life, the photography remains. I took one look at a picture this boy took and knew I had to meet him. Conveniently enough, we had a class together. We would sit in the hallway outside the photography lab and talk for hours. I almost considered changing my major to photography for this boy. I almost considered spending an entire summer in a far off place to impress him. But I didn't change my major and I didn't go to that camp. Why? Because that would have been crazy. No really, its because I knew I wasn't the girl who lived in the shadow of someone else's dream. I wasn't one to follow, on the heels, and coming in 2nd to his first love- the camera and the subjects. I'll never forget the moment this one told me he was engaged. I started crying but never let my voice change, only gushed about how happy I was. I knew he'd found the girl who loved the camera like he did. Who didn't ever want to put it down. And I now breathe a sigh of relief because even though I love my camera too, sometimes I want to put it down and live in the moment completely. But every now and then, his name will pop into my mind, and I'll google (yes google) his name. And every time, more results come up than before. Of the events he's documented, places he's been, and awards he's won. And instead of regret or sadness, I feel so proud of him. And hope one day he'll remember me and come back to the little town where he spent a few years, to document something for me.

The one who wrote letters, real letters--it was the words. Seeing the words on the screen and on paper. Nevermind the fact that his words were usually empty promises. I never lost hope that one day all the pieces would fit and it would work. Until about a year ago, I stopped ignoring all the signs from the Lord that this was not in His grand plan for my life. I loved this boy more than any other and this was hard to accept. This one is the kind that I've decided its all but impossible to make into a friend. The magic is just gone. And at the end of the day, all I can say is he's the what could have been guy. What could have been and thankfully didn't. But still, we had dreams and nothing creates silence between two people quite like broken dreams. He didn't follow through, but neither did I. I still see him a lot and what do you know, he's engaged too. I hope one day we'll have an interesting, fascinating, awe-inspiring conversation again, but that is a long-shot hope. Its the definition of awkward when we come face to face. Perhaps because he knows so much about me, which makes me nervous, and I know his secrets, which makes him uneasy. Maybe in a perfect world I could look at him and he could look at me and we'd say in unison "your secrets will always be safe with me." But its not a perfect world. And it is doubtful this scene will play out. It is what it is. I accept that wholeheartedly, heavy hearted, but wholeheartedly nonetheless. My only wish regarding him is that he'll grow up one day to be a fully realized man. I used to want that for my own benefit but now I want it just for him. Expecting nothing in return. I want him to find happiness, preferably in Jesus Christ.

I'm reflecting on this because it seems that now, I don't have the patience, desire, or tolerance for "projects". I want an already assembled man. That may sound funny, but it's the truth. I don't want to go into something expecting change and I don't want them to want to change me. I realized recently that in the past year I have had friends that I was on the brink of seeing as more. Somehow now, I can stop myself and say "are you compatible? Does this person love the Lord? Wouldn't you rather love them as a friend forever than eventually despise them at the end of a failed relationship doomed to fail from the start? Do you really want them to have the bitterness toward you or you toward them?" I think this is wisdom and being able to see inevitable future hurt. Still, I kind of miss that girl hell bent on proving everyone wrong. Not enough to become the girl again, let me assure you, but I'm so glad I was once this person. You see, a lot of people don't take the risk. And a lot of people settle. But me, I've done neither. I'm taken the risk and given people a chance. But I've also tried to exit as gracefully as possible when it's time to go. And I'm truly thankful that I've taken the leap but then known when it was time to call out to the Lord for self control. May seem like I'm looking for closure. Nah. You never get closure fully. You never say goodbye to what you once really loved. You just learn to live side by side with the pain and you keep dancing through life. Its simply enjoyable to discover I'm not there yet, at the peak of maturity and knowledge, but I'm getting there. And that's feels so wonderful. Knowing that I'm closer than I was before. And I hope a certain friend of mine knows I'm writing this to her. That she finds solace and comfort in knowing that she's closer than she was before.

*and note, i left out names, because well, it would have been stupid for me to include them. I'm not sure that my past people see the past like I did. It's all about perspective and I'm sure their perspective/memory of the past is different from mine. And just a word of caution, if you ever create a blog and reflect on your past, leave out the names. Because if one happens to call you up and say "is this about me?" you can laugh and say "no! of course not! that was totally somebody else."...even if it was really about them:)

a contender for my favorite

"I cannot live without books." - Thomas Jefferson

On my birthday this year (which I share with my daddio), I got a simple gift. I went out to my car the morning of my birthday and my dad had laid a card on the rearview mirror. I opened it and a piece of paper fell out. It was a little receipt that had "donation" written in the memo section and a lady's signature. That was it.

I immmediately called my dad.
"Thanks dad! Happy Birthday to you too!
You definitely beat me in the birthday exchange.
Where did you donate?"
Dad's response:
"You're welcome. You'll have to figure it out."
Me:
"You're kidding me, right?"
Dad:
"Nope. I will say it's something tangible you walk on. That's all I'll say. Good luck. You're a smart girl."

Vague and weirdo were the words I muttered back at him.
Every dad dreams to have a daughter like me,
always kind, never a name caller. bahaha.
So I sighed, grabbed my crackberry and googled the name that signed the receipt.
Nothing.

Then I called my friend Sarah and we brainstormed.
This is what we came up with.
"It's for a brick, it's gotta be for a brick."

So I called dad back:
"I figured out the riddle, it's for a brick, isn't it? Now tell me where."
Dad:
"nope."
So after me guessing WKU, Capitol Arts, Mountain Lake, ADPi, I gave up. And admittedly I forgot about the brick riddle. For over a month.
But dad did not.

On Mothers Day he called me and said "can I stop by your house? Do you have time to go for a drive?" So we drove til we got downtown and pulled into the public library parking lot. We walked over to the courtyard, which honestly I didn't know existed. It was a courtyard with bricks along the pathway, about 1/3 of the bricks having inscriptions. Some only names, some in memory of, some names of organizations.

And in the center was a metal chair, a piece of art I assume, with this inscription along the back of the chair:
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray!
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.

I immediately exclaimed: "Dad, that's from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory dad! One of my favorite quotes in the world! Isn't that the coolest quote ever? Why do people watch so much tv?!"
Dad smiled and said "I'm glad you knew what book that was from. That was the final test to get the prize. I made a donation to the public library in your name. Now all you have to do is figure out where you want the brick."

When I asked "why? what made you decide to buy this for me?"
His reply: "Because I've always been so proud of your love of reading,
of your fascination with all books. And I wanted a lasting testament to that pride."

I don't know what about this act that was so moving. It was a 26 year old girl with her 66 year old dad standing in a simple library courtyard on a Sunday afternoon. It was the simplicity of the moment I guess.

I am quite sure that was one of the happiest days of my life.

"dear me, i love a library! Because we are in Rome, this library is a beautiful old thing, and within it there is a courtyard garden which you'd never have guessed existed if you'd only looked at the place from the street. The garden is a perfect square, dotted with orange tress, and in the center, a fountain. This fountain was going to be a contender for my favorite in Rome, I could tell immediately, though it was unlike any I'd seen so far. It was not carved of imperial marble, for starters. This was a small green, mossy, organic fountain. It was like a shaggy leaking bush of ferns. (It looked, actually, exactly like the wild foliage growing out of the heard of that praying figure which the old medicine man in Indonesia had drawn for me.) The water shot up out of the center of this flowering shrub, then rained back down on the leaves, making a melancholy, lovely sound throughout the whole courtyard.
I found a seat under an orange tree and opened one of the poetry books I'd purchased yesterday. Louise Gluck. I read the first poem in Italian, then in English, and stopped short at this line:
"Dal centro della mia vita venne una grande fontana..."
"From the center of my life, there came a great fountain..."
I set the book down in my lap, shaking with relief.
-Elizabeth Elliot, "Eat Pray Love"

the journey to the view.

Yesterday I went with two of my favorite guys to Climb Nashville. It's a gym where you can climb walls. I kept saying to one of them leading up to going "I don't think I'm going to like this. I don't understand the point? Why do you climb if you're not climbing outside for a beautiful view at the top?" He just kept saying "you'll like it, I promise you you'll like it." Being combative me, I went on to say "I just don't get it. I mean I get climbing to see a sunset, but climbing to see concrete on the floor of a building? Whatever floats your boat though. I mean I'll go, but don't expect me to like it."

So I climbed. And I didn't just like it. I loveloveLOVEDit! And this is what I discovered. You don't climb solely for the view. You climb for the journey to the top. It's the journey that counts.

How many of us have received some recognition, award, diploma and were flooded with memories the moment we received it? That's because everything that led up to that moment was just as important, if not more important than that moment. When I ran a marathon a year and a half ago, I didn't go on and on about what the finish line looked like. Of course to finish was the goal. But I talked about the journey. I talked about the people I ran with along the way, the pain I felt, the monuments I saw in DC, the pain I experienced, what ran through my mind, the pain that lingered, what people said to me as I ran by, have I mentioned the pain yet? :)

Now don't get me wrong, of course I was thrilled to finish. Finishing anything in life is a beautiful thing. Following through on commitments is so underrated. I'm learning that slowly but surely. You start anything with the anticipation of finishing. But what I'm saying is, it was the pictures I took along the way I treasured, not the medal I got at the end.

My mom read me a poem a long long long time ago about how people view life. The poem was about this person on a train ride, with a lot of stops before the final one. It was basically about how we are always anticipating the next stop, thinking that the next stop will surely bring us bliss, happiness, contentment. Examples of these stops are getting to college, starting a career, starting a family, becoming a grandparent. Instead of enjoying the scenery, we strain to get to the next phase in life, attain the next materialistic thing, or achieve level a higher level of social or professional status. Then we get to that, and we are disappointed. Yes, it's good for awhile, but then we start straining for the next stop. So the cycle starts all over again. The final stop is of course the point when life ends. Her point wasn't that I shouldn't look forward to things or want things, but not to be so consumed with those desires that I miss the ride entirely. As a child listening to her, I kind of furrowed my brow, nodded, and smiled when she read the poem to me. Now I get it. I get the poem. I want to enjoy the ride.

And can I add that I actually did have a view yesterday? My friends smiling up at me. Honestly that's the best view I can think of. Seeing your friends proud of you trumps all other views. Even a sunset.

"When you set out on your journey to Ithaca, pray that the road is long, full of adventure, full of knowledge." -Constantine Peter Cavafy

circle of life

"From the day we arrive on the planet; and, blinking, step into the sun; there's more to see than can ever be seen; more to do than can ever be done; there's far too much to take in here; more to find than can ever be found; but the sun rolling high; through the sapphire sky; keeps great and small on the endless round"
-Elton John, The Circle of Life lyrics for the movie The Lion King

When I was young a movie came out called The Lion King. Not that I'm old enough to talk about the good ole days, but let's pretend I am. Because in the days I was young, Disney movie releases were a big deal. I'm talking huge. Elementary school classrooms were always buzzing with chatter about the latest characters, from Beauty to Jasmine to Simba. I remember sporting my Little Mermaid backpack in the first grade. I thought I'd surely be the hottest commodity in my class when I showed up with that thing adorning my back. What girls will do to get noticed, even at the age of 6. As a child, the one movie that I couldn't get enough of though was Cinderella. The whole notion that one shoe could change your life captivated me. Let's be honest, it still does or I wouldn't have an embarrassing amount of gold ballet flats. But as I've grown up, the Disney flick that I've grown fond of is The Lion King. I think so many principles in that film can apply to our lives. The lessons about unwavering friendship, loyalty to family, intrinsic need for purpose, desire to serve your community, and belief that true love always finds a way.

So imagine how I filled with joy when I realized that I had stumbled upon the perfect example of the circle of life. Yesterday I went to the funeral of Dr. Wright aka Buck Wright. I was so grateful that my parents had called to let me know of Dr. Wright's passing. I'd like to really make the story of him delivering of me 26 years ago a unique one (and according to my parents, it is) but this man delivered half of Bowling Green. I am one of thousands. What makes this man unique among thousands of obstetricians? The pastor did a wonderful job explaining how he really was an extraordinary man, and most importantly, incredibly Christ-like. Just as Christ died and delivered us from our sins, Dr. Wright also had a theme of deliverance in his life. He delivered babies, yes. This doesn't need explanation for why it is a truly special gift. But what a lot of people didn't know was that he was very active in the ministry of Alcoholics Anonymous. Through his own personal battle that he had overcome, he was able to save countless people from a lifetime of addiction to alcohol. Some one may know how many babies he delivered into the world, but no one will ever know how many people he kept alive through his ministry with AA. It stuns me to think of the impact he had on people in my community during his lifetime.

I feel so blessed to have been able to say farewell. How amazing that I saw him out of the world he saw me into. The circle of life indeed. The Elton John lyrics "and it moves us all, through despair and hope, through faith and love, till we find our place, on the path unwinding, in the Circle of Life" have never been truer in my life. I was moved to tears in that moment- reciting the Lord's prayer at a service honoring the person who helped me take my first breath. The meaning of life never made more sense. It was a wonderful reminder of how much I admire my elders, of how I really believe everything comes full circle, and how I know that my heavenly Father surely does work in mysterious ways.
"to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived; this is to have succeeded." -ralph waldo emerson

the beach into a jar...

excerpt from a book i just finished (in 3 hours). i couldn't put it down, obviously i liked it :)

"And I told you, Jenny, that living life was like putting the beach into a jar. The point wasn't to fit everything in; it was to attend to the most important things first--the big, beautiful rocks--the most valuable people and experiences--and fit the lesser things in around them. Otherwise the best things might get left out. " -from Sam's Letters to Jennifer by James Patterson