This is Gross

Oh bloggy world, how I have missed you! September went by in a whirlwind--I can't believe I didn't do any posts--but I'm back, and starting things off with a somewhat questionable post. I went on a walk a few weeks ago, and walked past a little sign that said in all caps: THIS IS GROSS. Obviously, I took notice. The sign was carefully placed (on a wooden pick) in a pile of dog poop. Lovely! Underneath it said--Pick up your poop. The sign made me laugh, gag, and think all at once (some might say I looked like a choking duck...). One a purely logical scale, I think the homeowners had every right to put up their little sign--it IS gross not to pick up after your dogs (honestly, how do they cope with the shame? don't they wonder if the people can see them through the windows??? I mean...(Rachel Zoe reference #1)) It was funny to me, though, that instead of just putting up a pick up after your dogs sign, they chose to leave the mess in their yard, and call attention to it with a sign. Somehow I doubt that the kind of person who would leave it there in the first place would be significantly shamed by the sign into becoming a person of character and considerate nature. Which brings about my deeper thought: Wouldn't it be nice if we could put up little "signs" like that in our lives. Like a big THIS IS GROSS in the middle of a friend's passive aggression or a in the face of some random guy-in-car cat call (seriously, what do they think is going to come of that? Bananas! (RZ #2)). That way, you don't have to pick up other people's messes and you are essentially calling them on their, well, poop! But in the end, as with the errant dog walker, if they are OK with leaving their ish on the sidewalk, is there any point to making a little sign, or should we just suck it up and pick it up? Ahhh, life's little quandaries!

Star Sighting

This weekend I went camping in Big Sur with some dear friends. I was really looking forward to seeing all the stars up there in the clear, non-city-lighted sky. The last time I was up there it was really clear and so majestic. Needless to say, this time the sky was overcast and not a star was in sight. Obviously I still had a great time, but I went to bed a little sad that I had missed out on the rare opportunity to see what I consider to be one of the most magical sights in nature. I'm thankful that my knowledge of exactly what those twinkly little lights are hasn't lessened the impact of just how glorious the night sky is! It makes me think of the conversation that Timon and Pumba have in the Lion King--are they fireflies stuck in the big black thing, or large balls of gas and fire millions of miles away? I find that the answer doesn't really matter to me. Just like staring at the endless ocean stretched in front of me, seeing the star-filled sky inspires me to think of what is beyond, what is out there, and what is possible. It reminds me of the knowledge that God "determines the number of stars, and calls them each by name" (Psalm 147:3) It takes me out of my tiny little world, and reminds me of the vastness of space--which simultaneously delights and terrifies me!

That night, I woke up and couldn't sleep. I was restless and longing for some fresh air, so after about 40 minutes of debating I ventured out of my safe little tent into the middle of the night, despite all the little rustlings I could hear outside and the knowledge that the skunk who had run towards our fire only a few hours earlier was still out there, desperate for vengeance from the evil flashlight wielding humans. On my way back from the bathrooms (don't worry, it still counts as camping!) I happened to look up. I didn't have on my contacts, but I could still see the BILLIONS of stars, shining overhead. It was like a little gift. I stood outside my tent for a few minutes, enjoying the solitude of being alone in the dark, the only witness to the brief moment of a clear middle of the night sky.

The next morning it was completely cloudy again, as if it had never happened. And I couldn't help but think that if I hadn't forced myself out of my safe, cozy tent into the "dangerous" night, I would have missed out on all those stars...

A few days ago my mom sent me this picture while she and my dad were sailing to Catalina. It's a picture of the dinghy that is mounted to the back of the boat. Can you see the teeny tiny little bird sitting on top?

I found this image really poignant. My mom titled the email "hitchhiker"--one tiny bird, in the middle of a vast ocean, finding a brief respite on whatever "island" she could find. Lover of metaphors as always, I couldn't help but feel like this bird is a kindred spirit. All too often I find myself out in the middle of an seemingly endless ocean with no land in sight. I start to despair, feeling the aching in my wings as I try to stay in flight. And then, out of the clouds I see a sailboat. Not what I expected, but a welcome landing place all the same. And honestly, oftentimes what I think to be a random landing place turns out to be better than what I would have planned. Would I rather sit in a tree, or on a 50ft sailboat, riding the waves and watching the dolphins chase the wake? Much like this bird, I am sitting pretty on an amazing ride. Not where I expected to be, or where I seemingly might belong, but I am resting and I am thankful.

Life Lessons from a Purse

My mom bought me an amazing surprise purse present (sounds like a weird my little pony name...) and on the inside it had this chic little paper booklet of information about the brand, the purse, etc. Part of what they wrote is the following, and I loved it because:

1. It is a genius way of saying "hey that expensive purse you just bought? when it starts to look beat up, don't worry, that just means you are even cooler than you were before"--very smart

and

2. You know how much I love a good metaphor--I think it is self explanatory how my new little purse reflects my life. Enjoy!

"The foil, originally glossy, becomes increasingly opaque with wear and time, providing the object with an appearance which is beautiful and unique. It may be said that leathers treated in this way offer low resistance to scuffs, scratches and repeated rubbing, losing their shine especially on the corners and parts subjected to wear. However these characteristics should be considered as the assets, rather than the defects of craft products. Appreciating the product in this light and experiencing its natural evolution makes for a product which is unique, authentic and personal."

Oh Babs, you teach me about life even when you aren't trying to...

There is a fine line

There is a fine line between

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder"

and

"Out of sight, out of mind"

and I think that difference is reciprocation of affection...

This week's musings...

This week I have been feeling extremely grateful for my 26.5 years. I'm in that really comfortable, exciting place in life where I am still young and have so much to hope for and dream about, but I've also passed by some years of awkwardness and insecurity that I don't miss at all! I think the mid-twenties bring a new feeling of peace and comfort in your own skin that early twenties in all it's glorious uncertainty and arrogance just can't compete with. Sure, I'm not just out of college, but I look better, feel better, and react more sanely to things at 26 than I did at 22. Ironically I haven't really answered any of those big life questions I was asking myself when I graduated college, but I've lived A LOT of life and learned even more about relationships and myself than I did in the self-indulgent years of college (not self-indulgent in a bad way, college is a great time to focus on figuring out who you are and what you are about). I think our current culture puts SO much emphasis on getting it together right when you leave college--what is your career, where are you going to live for the next 10 years, how much money will you have--and I know very few people who are still on the same path they were on at graduation day. Just like people tend to change their major a couple times in college as they settle in and the voice of their high school guidance counselor fades into the distance, so do the first few years of college bring a lot of changes and surprises to what you thought adult life was going to be about. I for one do not miss being 22 or 23, and I think that these next few years might just end up being the best I've had yet. Thank you Lord for growth, perspective, and the mercy of change!

What do you think?

I'm back! I had an amazing vacation in Cabo. I usually am really depressed at the end of vacations, but this time I was perfectly content to head back to "normal life" which is an indication of how content I am with my life right now. What a relief to be able to thoroughly enjoy a vacation without the sadness at the end! Although you know I love a good cry, especially if paired with a really depressing and poignant song on repeat.

***The following is in NO way some sort of passive aggressive shout out to anyone in my life. If I want to be passive aggressive I'll just say something really snotty in my facebook status :)

Ohhhh now you're all really interested, aren't you?

I've been thinking about opinions a lot this week. I have a lot of them, as we all know. And I love hearing other people's--in fact, I seek them out. Whenever I have a big decision in my life, or am conflicted about something, or even just because I love talking about myself and my life (sarcastically stated, startlingly true...) I am the first to ask my friends what they think. I am a verbal processor, and I often end up figuring out how I really feel about something after having a good chat about it with someone. The problem is, the more people you ask about something, the more conflicting opinions you are bound to hear. Unless it's a really black and white issue, it can often be more confusing then helpful to hear all the various opinions. And unless you are my mom (who is basically always right), you may in fact have an opinion that doesn't necessarily end up being best for me. All of this to say, that lately I have been sort of overwhelmed by all the different voices in my life. And that's when I realized that I was seeking out all this advice/commentary, but failing to ask the one person whose "opinion" I really need to hear--God's. This is not to say that I don't ENDLESSLY value my friends' advice. Like I said, I am the one who asks for it. And my friends happen to be extremely insightful and helpful (and pretty!). But sometimes I am so focused on asking everyone around me what to do that I forget to include God in the conversation. And it's only when I look to him that all the other voices fall in to their place--helpful, thought-provoking, and appreciated, but ultimately second place.