Process.

It's always good to look back on life and remember where you came from.

I remember circumstances that have happened in my life and how I've dealt with them, always asking God to improve my character in some way or another. I've always wanted to be the best me I can be, no matter what happens. To handle situations that are difficult, or even the ones that are pleasant, with a grace that is otherworldly. To use every event to shape and mold me into this beautiful creature that I know I'm capable of being because God loves me and because I'm made in his image.

It's always in those times of looking back that I see just how God did that.



I never see it when it's happening.
Even in the midst of my confusion, pain, unhappiness, sadness...something is happening to me that I am not even aware of.
Simply because I asked for it.
I said, "God make me like this."

It never happens right away.
It's always a process.
I love processes.

But it happens.

You have to be willing to take on the process.
To accept the dirty, ugly things that can take place.
To barrel through the tears and questions.
To be certain that in the end, you will come out with something much greater.
To feel thankful for each little step.
To know that change is taking place somewhere deep inside you.

"I pray that the Lord will guide you to be as loving as God and as patient as Christ." 1 Timothy 3:5

The process isn't about getting what you want.
It's just about being. And becoming more.

Positive can be a verb.

I've been known to go through fits of wanting to never talk to a single person again.
In fact, one of my best friends and I have emergency days sometimes where a single text:

"I hate everyone."

is all we need to hear.

Half an hour later, we are sitting in our pj's, eating pizza, watching romance movies about tragic love stories from the 19th century and dramatically yelling out "Woe is me!" or some other ridiculous saying.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with this ritual.
These are some of my fondest memories.

I have just been thinking about that saying, "I hate everyone," and that feeling that goes along with it.

Lately, I've been trying to be much more positive about life and people.
I'm pushing the limits of my positiveness.

Every morning, I push the negative thoughts out of my head about what could go wrong or about doing things I don't like to do.
Instead I just say, "This will be a good day."
And it is.
I know that sounds cheesy, but it's true.
Attitude makes or breaks it.
And your attitude is always a choice.

So I've been thinking...why shouldn't the same concept work with people?

Let's get real here.
We all have those people that annoy us, or those people that push our buttons or simply people that we just don't like.
We all know those negative nancies, and even those positive pollies that are so positive it makes you want to puke.
And most likely we are that person to someone else.

If I really believe what I believe about people,
that they are
beautiful
unique
complex
intriguing
specimens,

that they hold a world inside of them much bigger than you or I could imagine,

that every one of them is capable of loving in great ways,

that they all carry interesting stories and deep feelings inside of them,

and that they can all teach me something...

why do I ignore them so often? Or get annoyed when they try to talk with me? Or get irritated when I hear them laughing? Or frustrated when they are mean to me?

Why am I not looking for something deeper?
Pulling out the positive and finding those stories, those feelings, those ideas, those thoughts that exist inside of them.

It almost seems trendy these days to be rude to people or to make fun of them. It's not actually cool if you are nice to people all the time and positive about all of your interactions.
I sure hope that's not what has been stopping me.

Negative surroundings have the ability to change you in that way, to make you lazy or bitter.
My challenge has always been to be a light in the room, a person that radiates goodness and somehow, whatever is inside of me will overcome all of the bad.
So I'm challenging myself again.

Run away.

All of my life I've dreamed of "better" places. Of running away.

I romanticized about Paris and Greece, wishing to be basking away in the sun by the sea and sipping coffee in a little bakery down the street from my apartment.

I played out scenarios of living in little villages in Africa and traveling all up and down Central America.

I've planned trips around the States in my mind, stopping wherever I pleased, never having a map or agenda. Working odds and ends jobs and being whoever I wanted to be.

All I have ever wanted is adventure.

Traveling at such a young age, I've acquired some wisdom and knowledge about the ways of the world. I've had cultural experiences I could never have imagined in my 11-year old brain. I've met beautiful people along my journey. Inspiring, creative, motivated, loving, wild, visionary kinds of people. Kids with big smiles and big hearts. Friends that have left a tremendous impact on my heart.

So every time I've come back to my small town, the same small town I spent 18 years of my life in, I get antsy. I get this rushing, overwhelming urge to run, to get out, to experience, to adventure, to be somewhere else. It's been like a thorn in my side. I never feel satisfied.

What am I doing wrong? What is the underlying problem here?
I want, need, have to be satisfied.

I honestly enjoy my life. I enjoy every minute, I look for all the positive and good. I cherish the people around me, my family, my beautiful friends, my coworkers, my classmates. I try as much as I can to experience new things around me and to point out the small, wonderful things happening in my life. And I'm happy.

So what's the problem?

I think the problem is me.

I'm not satisfied with me.

Open up.

There are so many things to see and think about in the world.

So many things to challenge us, to delight us, to frighten us.

So many wild, outrageous feelings.

So many upsetting, horrible things happening.

So many new, beautiful events unfolding.

So much of everything.

How can our brains ever get bored?

Disconnect.

I have a phone that can connect me to anything and anyone at any time I want it to.

If I need to know how to say "hello" in Welsh, it could tell me that.
If I need directions to San Francisco, I can pull them up in less than two minutes.
If I want to know where the closest McDonald's is, no problem.

I can talk to my friends every second of the day through miscellaneous texts or phone calls.

Somehow...in the midst of all this "connection," all I feel is a huge disconnect.

Lately, I find myself sitting around in some random coffee shops. I frequent one in particular because the people are friendly and the atmosphere makes it pretty easy to talk to others. I feel this enormous need to physically be around people. Their presence somehow reminds me I'm a human. That's one thing my phone can't do.

It will never replace a deep look into someone else's eyes. The smell of coffee and the goofy smile of the woman handing it to me. The sound of a hard, guttural laugh. It has nothing on a conversation that you can get lost in. Listening so intently that the world around you disappears. As your friend gets up to use the restroom, you are suddenly hit with the realness of another person's presence. The realness of your own presence. The connectivity of it all. Something in you is alive.

I just want to stop numbing myself with silly things that get me through the day. I want to feel alive with other people, to feel the full intensity of my being. I want to connect through smiles and hello's and good vibes. Through friendly waves and silly chit chat. Through hard questions and uncontrollable laughter. I want others to want to connect. I want them to know I'm listening. That I care. That their presence and being matter to me. Fully, 100%.

At this coffee shop, I've been learning a lot, not only about connection with others, but about myself. There is a man that frequents the place who has taught me a lot about connecting. He's a bit older and looks slightly homeless. I see him almost every time I go in and he always has a smile and a nice compliment for me. The first time I met him, I will shamefully admit that my first instinct was to ignore him. Instead, I decided to take the time to communicate with him. It's a bit harder, you see, because he doesn't talk. He only uses motions and it's like a confusing, laughter-filled game of charades trying to figure out what he's saying. But it's worth it. He's so kind and good. He has a very sweet soul and just wants to connect with people. He has to connect with people. He has no choice.

I need to stop taking the choice to connect for granted.
I want to commit to it, to listening, to encouraging, to reaching out and becoming a better connector, a better friend.
And that's my challenge right now...to get rid of the disconnect.