frost

i want to be a kind of magic you never knew existed

a secret world that only exists
in the spaces between you and i

i want to make you feel something
a feeling that never existed
until we met eyes
locked souls

exchanged thoughts we couldn't murmur if we tried

i want to be your deepest sighs
and your longest smiles
your bursts of laughter
and your toughest trials

i want
i want to be


but what i am:

i am
a frost that forms around your heart
small crystals forming
pulling on what's exposed
destroying what remains
beautiful at first
lethal at the end


but i want
i want something
something maybe
that doesn't exist

but maybe

"What's wrong with these?"

Walking down the aisles of Portland's Saturday Market, I spotted some interesting pottery and stopped to have a look. There was a shelf behind all of the displayed pottery that my eye was immediately drawn to. It was hidden in the back, out of view from the main aisle.

I began picking up the pieces, thinking they were some of the most beautiful and unique jars and mugs and bowls I had ever seen. Then I noticed the clearance sticker. Uh-oh. Something must be wrong with them.

"What's wrong with these?"

"Oh these are the imperfects," he told me. "The color didn't turn out the way it was supposed to after being fired in the kiln. They were supposed to turn these blues and greens, but instead turned red and gray."

"But there is nothing wrong with them?"

"No, they just didn't turn out the way they were supposed to."

Thinking back on this small interaction, this moment was kind of defining for me.

I identify with that pottery.

I've always strived to be perfect. It's something I write about often, because for many years it's what I thought defined me. The perfect girl, the perfect piece of pottery. No flaws. Just the right colors. Just the right design. That's what I wanted.

Looking back now, I realize that there was something deeper drawing me to that pottery.

I'm not perfect. I'm flawed.
Through this journey called life, my colors have changed.
They didn't turn out the way I thought they should, or would, or could have.
The colors aren't wrong though.
In the eyes of the right person, they could be the most beautiful or the most unique.
In the eyes of the right person, they have more value than all of the "perfect" pieces.

The piece of pottery went through the fire.
It didn't come out as expected.
It didn't live up to the "perfect" expectations.
But in my eyes, it came out better.

The colors may have changed...
But the colors are me and that's all that matters.

missing, missing, missing.

i've been missing a lot of things lately.

people, places, memories.

now don't get me wrong.
i'm not missing things because i'm unhappy.

quite the opposite actually.

lately i've been thinking mostly about how freaking blessed i am to have lived the life i've lived so far.
i've literally met some of the most beautiful, talented, loving, adventurous souls in the world.
i've walked along the most gorgeous beaches and hiked up some breathtaking mountains.
i've gotten lost and played in the dirt and eaten things i wish to never remember.

anyways, in appreciation of just how wonderful my life has been thus far, i thought i would just share some things i miss...

i miss lying in a hammock and watching it pour down rain.

i miss hearing children shout in a foreign language and run towards me and then spring into my arms.

i miss walking into a room at any moment and seeing all of my closest friends.

i miss taking long walks with friends through dirt roads in africa and talking about hearts and God and life.

i miss living in a room with ten other crazy, wonderful women and feeling like i've known them for years.

i miss late night braais and swimming adventures.

i miss bus excursions and never knowing where you'll end up.

i miss coffee on the beach with deep friend talks.

i miss walking to the mall barefoot, just because you can.

i miss beanbags in the middle of basketball courts and discussing why God made men.

i miss waking up every morning to a deflated air mattress.

i miss biking to church in a dress.

i miss finding ants in my coffee.

i miss hearing the dinner bell and never knowing what to expect, like cow tongue or pap and spinach.

i miss being in one room with people from twelve different countries.

i miss having movie nights and carrying ten million mattresses into the glory hall.

i miss buying milky ways and coca cola all the time to remind myself of home.

i miss eating oreos and watching so you think you can dance.

i miss boiling water and it STILL tasting like gasoline.

i miss sharing the smallest bed in the world and a mosquito net with one of my best friends.

i miss day-long trips to the coast just to eat clam chowder.

i miss taking two-second showers because the water was so freezing cold.

i miss singing really silly children's songs with hand motions.

i miss sneaking out and climbing water towers at two in the morning.

i miss playing phase ten on the beach by the moonlight.

i miss big a$$ smoothies from los amigos.

i miss biking to my outreach leaders house for spur of the moment tacos and laughter.

i miss never knowing what was going to happen in a day.

i miss having silly girls knocking on our door at all hours and feeding them from our mango tree.

i miss spanish lessons and impromptu beach explorations.

i miss saying "don't you do that" and laughing every ten seconds.

i miss spending the night on a trampoline and drinking an entire two litre of mountain dew.

i miss standing up on a bus for six hours.

i miss getting lost in the costa rican rainforest and ending up in an amish families retreat home.

i miss living out of a suitcase.

i miss so many things.
i can't even count all the beautiful memories i have of people and places i've been.
or memories from growing up.
it's really overwhelming.

i have such a beautiful life.
and everyone that's been in it,
and everyone that's in it currently,
and everyone that will be there in the future...
i just couldn't be more thankful for.

the only reason my life has been so beautiful is because i have had such beautiful people to share it with.



i'm such a cheeseball.

What I'm learning...

this week is that scars are important.

"In a futile attempt to erase our past, we deprive the community of our healing gift. If we conceal our wounds out of fear and shame, our inner darkness can neither be illuminated nor become a light for others." --Brennan Manning

Lately, I've really been trying to simplify.

To get back to the basics.

To discover myself and forgive myself

without a bunch of junk in the way.

I'm finally taking the time to work through things that I've pushed under the rug for awhile.

Feelings I've had about myself, feelings I've had about others.

Pain from past situations and pain from how I feel about myself.

I'm learning that loving yourself is maybe one of the hardest things.

And that dealing with all those things that you have quietly ignored can really exhaust you.

But at the end of the day, I would rather be able to understand the darkness inside of me than to avoid it.

While I certainly always wish I didn't have to experience painful situations or have my heart broken or get hurt, it allows me to relate to others in a way that isn't possible without that pain.

At the moment, I'm healing on my own, but maybe I can share this healing with someone later.

I've been realizing how much anger and bitterness I've been feeling the past few years.

Emotions that never used to be a part of my vocabulary.

I think they've been important emotions to experience, but not a place that I want to stay in.

I can't keep holding onto the anger towards others and the anger towards myself for not being perfect.

I can't keep being bitter about things that are out of my control.

I can see now how deeply this has affected many of my relationships, friendships and feelings about who I am. 

At this point, there is nothing more I can do but move forward.

Not forgetting the scars and not trying to erase them.

But realizing that they will bring me to a better place.

They have made me a wiser, kinder, gentler human being.

They've allowed me to connect with others on a deeper level.

They remind me that I am not perfect and finally, I think that is okay.

I feel like I've been saying for the past few years, 

"This isn't me. This isn't normally how I act or what I think or how I feel." 

But I've come to terms that it was me.

It was not the "me" I wanted.

It was a hard kind of "me" to be.

It wasn't very pretty sometimes.

And I wasn't very happy with myself.

But it made me more "me" than I have ever been.

So, while this post may seem very vague,

I hope in some sense you can connect with it.

I just know now that the scars don't define me, but they've made me.

What I'm aiming for.

Resolution: A firm decision to do or not to do something.
Goal: The end toward which effort is directed.

I don't know why, but I have always disliked the whole "New Years Resolutions" thing.
Maybe because after a month, no one really remembers them or keeps them.

I guess I like goals more instead.
They are directed towards something.
It includes a process.
And like I've said before, I really like processes.


I have a really good feeling about this year.
A lot of exciting things will be happening.

I'll be graduating from Culinary school.
Potentially moving out.
Potentially moving all together.
I will probably be visiting many of my closest friends.
Seeing new sights.
I'll be working two jobs that I absolutely adore.
I'll be creating more art.

On top of all that, I'm hoping this year holds more things as well.

I'm hoping to meet more people
and to build on the friendships I already have.

I'm hoping that by the end of the year, I will be more myself than I am right now.

I'm hoping I will forgive myself.

I'm hoping I will be kinder to people.

I'm hoping I'll speak more Spanish.

I'm hoping I'll speak more, period.

I'm hoping I will be more aware of what's happening in the world.

I'm hoping I will begin taking steps again to make the world a better place.

I'm hoping I'll learn to stand up for myself
and in turn to stand up for others.

I'm hoping to read more books
and paint more pictures
and drink more coffee.

I'm hoping to love myself.

I'm hoping to find someone to love.

I'm hoping for more spontaneity and adventure
to go after life so hard that I don't forget for a second that I'm living.

I'm hoping to walk barefoot more often.
And to have a dinner party.
And to make meals for people, often.

I'm hoping to stop being so selfish.
To remember at all moments that other people are living stories.

I'm hoping to listen to more people's stories: the good, the bad, the ugly, the uncomfortable, the joyful.
Every story is important.

I'm hoping to do more things to surprise people.


Anyway, goals...I have them. Nothing exactly that I can just "quit," but I've decided it's going to be a process of becoming more myself.

I'm not going to get down on myself if I slip out of line.
It seems like with resolutions, once they are broken, people normally give up.
But not with goals.
With goals, it's just an obstacle, a stumbling block.

2013. It's going to be a good year.

Torn.

I've never been able to identify myself as an introvert or extrovert.
I always seem to find myself torn between introspection and wild adventure.

I can't decide which one I want and when I want it.

When I want to be introspective, I think:

"I must be missing out on something beautiful happening in the world."

and when I want to be a wild adventurer, I think:

"I could be learning and growing in some very important ways right now."

You might say:

"Why don't you just put the two together?"

If only my brain worked in the way where everything was one and I processed things easily and deeply while other things were happening and conversations were spinning and cars were driving and music was blaring and drinks were being passed around.

But it doesn't work like that and so I have to choose between the two and risk the idea of the other maybe never happening.
I don't want to miss out on life, but I don't want to miss out on myself.

As the new year approaches, I think I'm going to take a little time for both.
A little time to look back.
A little time to look forward.
And then a little time for the present, to wander and find something exciting to start the year with.

Slow Motion

I just found this poem that I wrote back in high school. I like it, so I'm sharing it.


Slow Motion

Another long day ends
With a rush to get home;
Slamming the car door
And running up the steps,

I stop.

What's that smell?
Warm air travels over my skin
And I breathe in
The sweet smell of summertime.

I pause.

The stars are glimmering and
The moon is bright.
It lights up the night
Full of life
And I surrender to the beauty.

I run.

The grass is cold under my bare feet;
The world is spinning
And the night embraces my
Small, pale figure.

I fall.

The grass becomes my pillow.
The trees shake with laughter.
The sky feels my contentment.

I glow.

How did I miss all of this?