Happy Interruptions

The sun woke me up this morning, and for the first time in a while, it held both light and warmth. After a satisfyingly resourceful breakfast, and truly abandoning tights for spring air, I tra-la-la-ed to my workspace all set to take in the sea of Siberian Squill that are blooming outside my workspace door!  I even planned to title today's post "True Blue Content-mint".  For real, that's what a cheeseball, joyful mood I was in.

Yep, I said was.

In hindsight, I'm glad my happy gait was interrupted.  Not because cheesy joy is bad (far from it, this girl needs to allow herself more), but because the realization that stalled mine was worthwhile.

Not long after my arrival, I went to check an Instagram notification only to see a new post by an inspiring person that I follow-- the post, and the little face pictured in it, were beautiful and heartbreaking.  Joy-giving and convicting.  Inspiring and frustrating, because I feel stuck where I am, and long for opportunities to walk alongside hurting people.  

The picture was of a little girl named Angali, at a school in Bangladesh-- brilliant, full of life, but held down by the socioeconomic plights of her reality.  The post went on to express the true, true thought that our belongings and money are really not our own, and that they exist merely to meet our needs and to overflow into those who are without.

It's reminders like these that help clear the fluff from my vision.  I war with myself on a pretty regular basis about my existence and involvement in the complacency of our culture. Day in and day out I'm shocked to see people around me content in (and distracted by) a life of the corporate rat race, entertainment and good food.  I love fresh produce and a mean burrito like the next person, but I've reached a point in my life where my hunger is really for purpose-- for these hands of mine to do work that lasts, and the only things that do are the hearts of people.

These thoughts have been ever before me lately, and with them opportunities to go.  It's unclear yet where I'll end up, but I have such peace in the process, and confidence that the Father will show me when it's time.  Australia, California, Colorado, or here in Chicago-- I'm praying over these places at the moment, and being as present as I can be where I am. 

I think that's the biggest challenge, at times: to know that whatever work we are currently doing (even if it feels not 110% full of purpose), that it does not go to waste if we do it in love.

Action > Escape

In many ways this winter has been a walk in the park, but I am still hankering for true, sunny-day-blooming-flowers-no-jacket Springtime.  Warm spurts have come and gone, settling mostly on a middle ground of gray drizzle, like today.

My head has been a little in a gray drizzle lately, as well.  

I suppose that glum feeling is really in reaction to a deep restlessness that I feel-- a desire to do something meaningful, but not hearing clear direction from God on what that might be.  Because of that, I've had moments of wanting to throw my hands up, and everything to the wind.  Moments where I kind of just want to raise my hand to every organization I know, and offer myself to be sent somewhere (anywhere) where I can use my hands and effort to do something of value in the grand scheme of things.

And as exciting and freeing as that sounds, I think I've also realized that (for me) it would be running away.

From what?  From the creative knot here in reality that I have to work through, from actually figuring out how best to use the gifts God has given me.  The idea seems like an experiential escape from specific opportunities that utilize my gifts, that I'm sick and tired of waiting on (though I think God might be asking me to).  Sometimes, it's easier and so much more fun to go off exploring instead.

Now, I'm not saying that if I chose to fly off the handle and go work for an organization in Costa Rica, or Afghanistan, that that would be a wrong choice.  It's not.  I'm a firm believer in the truth that God gave us free will for a reason, that he's overjoyed to use whatever we do within his will.  By that, I mean that it doesn't involve living in sin, and centers around our love for him and others.  Apart from that, I do believe the call on our lives is simply this: go do what you love, what lights you up and what builds other people up and points them to the love of God.

So we're left with a heck ton of options, overwhelming as that is.

Ha, so I guess I still might throw it all to the wind and board a plane soon.  So many variables change every day, even the awareness of the ability to choose literally anything right now, is weighty-- and also very light, for all it takes is a step, a yes, an ask. There many not be another season in my life like this one, and while I desperately want to choose wisely, that preoccupation often robs me of... (wait for it. Yep:) action.

My life always comes back to that, doesn't it?  Just DO something, even if it fails.  Unfortunately Escape and Action can look a lot alike, I suppose that's the distinction that matters.

Details

{top} - thrifted

{tights} - Target

{skirt} - vintage 70's, inherited

{sweater} - vintage 50's, thrifted

{necklace} - vintage 40's, inherited

{heels} - Chelsea Crew via ModCloth

Lately {March '16}

Lately I have been wrestling with myself. My purpose (or lack there of) and the many, many suffocating ideas in my head, all of the time. Will that ever resolve? Sometimes I don't know, it's been a theme in my life for as long as I can recall. From music + dance, to vintage style and teaching the Enneagram, there's just never enough bandwidth in my mind, it seems, to make steps forward-- it all just buries me. And believe it or not, those passion areas are the narrowed down (from about ten in total), prioritized three!

Aside from my introspective sparring, there has been some beautiful snow of late. ❄️

I got to return to one of my favorite buildings on Saturday afternoon, to see a musical that some friends were in. It's a Victorian (1889) opera house with the most beautiful decorative details, and rich history. I truly would love to own such a place one day, to run, to host events at, and to share with others.

I've been reading again, but gradually, as the pastime can be dangerously addictive for me.

Though it's ebbed and flowed, I'm still doing my vintage clothing thing, and finding new ways to share that with others.

I've realized of late, how fortunate I am to have so many lovely, interesting and good hearted people in my life-- those I pour my heart out to regularly, those I might see once a week, and those who's kindness, passion or kindred spirit bring them back to my mind from time to time. It's so easy to feel alone in our culture, in terms of deep understanding, but I'm reminded today of how truly blessed I am in that category. Friends near and far, new and old, close now or a season or two ago.  I'm still learning from and reflecting on each of those hearts, minds and the experiences I've shared with them. It's truly a wonder that I often forget or take for granted-- really, chances are that I'll be reading this post some rainy day, and be reminded anew.

I suppose that is the point. 😊

A Single Misconception

It's peculiar to me that I've never written here about my singleness. It's been part of my experience for the last six years, and has shaped me greatly. Honestly, I write about my singleness often, in private. But to bare that very broken part of myself, even in a semi-public way, is scary. 

I'm writing now because people around me have increasingly begun to assume that I don't desire a counterpart, and nothing could be further from the truth. My closest friends know my entire being longs for the right man in my life, but that I also struggle with shame over the very same desire. Which of course sends the message that I’m not interested in dating at all.  

Self-sabotage might be my middle name, but I wasn’t simply born that way. 

My 21st birthday came at the close of the seven year, darkest season of my life, including two abusive relationships. I entered a time of intentional singleness to re-center my life, and for three years, that was healing and good-- time God used to draw me close to him, and into close friendships with other women. My heart healed a lot in that time, but at 24 years old, I began to realize that I no longer had a reason to be single on purpose. 

Still, I was hesitant to date again. 

From 24 to 26 I often joked that I was "unintentionally single", and I was. The times that I was attracted to a specific person, fear of appearing too needy froze me in my tracks, causing me to close off entirely. This experience (time and time again) was like autopilot, feelings of chemistry triggering shame, fear and avoidance-- leaving me only to kick myself an hour later, wondering how I could become so paralyzed. At the core, the one thing that I did not want was to be that woman who finds her identity in romantic relationships; fear of repeating my past, really. I wanted to stand up in who God created me to be, as an individual, and I did. But in doing so, I also hid. Out of shame of being too much, and from opening myself up to rejection and hurt again.

I desire relational intimacy (platonic and non) more than anything on earth, and I always have. But somewhere along the line (including the aforementioned relationships), I was told in word and action, that this desire was silly, overbearing, or demanding. So I ran to the other end of the spectrum. My walls went up, not to keep others out, but to keep myself from desiring relationship with them-- because I'd learned that that was too much to ask.

I think the truth is this: at a young age, we openly ask for whatever it is that we most desire or need in life. As we grow, we often experience rejection, and wonder if our desire/need is too much, or not okay. This sometimes causes us to clam up. We hide that need, and we overcompensate, essentially trying to convince ourselves we don't want that thing we (really do) most want. That’s where I’m at in my desire for a counterpart. Allowing myself to feel romantic interest to the full extent that my heart really does, without feeling shame over that, because God has clearly sown it into me. What that essential need is for people varies, I'm sure, whether it's social involvement, to be heard, intellectual expression, security, intimate relationship (like me) or any number of other things.

So this is new: Talking about my current state of singleness, and the fact that, no, I'm not really fine with it. I'm actually pretty torn up over it and waste lots of notebook paper and thought on it. I've come a long way from the 18 year old who saw her value in relationships with men. Or from the 21-year old that could not even make eye contact with men she didn't know, much less speak to them coherently. My heart has healed immensely. 

I do desire to be married and have a family one of these days, and the more I acknowledge that, and step out in action, the less I feel shame associated with the desire. Dates have happened (much to the shock of my friends and family), self observation continues, and my trust is placed fully in the hands of my Creator. I may be single still for a few months, for a few years, or for the rest of my life-- but funny enough, because of my experience, I know I’ll be content as long as I can acknowledge the desire in my heart.  Yes, even if I never find him. I've found that contentment isn't about "getting what we desire", or willing ourselves to not need-- it's about being real about the struggle, and finding peace in it.

Truly, if a writer does not write about romantic relationships, there is most likely far too much to say. This is, at least, a start. ;)

Abandon

Believe it or not, I actually found these adorable slacks at Goodwill!  I was pretty shocked to find such 40's style pants wedged in between skinny jeans and 90's flairs, but you just don't ask questions about a find like that!  The missing button has since been remedied. ;)

I ditched my fiery locks a few weeks ago, so looking at these pictures (which are from before then) is a little funny in hindsight-- I didn't realize it was that bright! Haha, I'll chalk it up to experience.

As this year comes to a close, I've been expressing a lot-- I mean more than usual.  I wrote a long overdue letter to tie up some loose ends and get some closure.  I shared a poem that I wrote over six months ago with the person I wrote it about.  Funny, but I'm realizing that sometimes the craziest, most uncomfortable instincts are the ones you really ought to follow-- even if other people don't get it, and think you are silly.

You know, maybe I am silly.  So be it.

The only thing I really ever regret is not expressing myself, and giving voice to things that lay heavy on my heart.  It seems the heaviest of those are the first to be neglected, because they are usually inconvenient.  I'm kind of tired of that, or at least the aftermath of it.  

I'm not really a New Year's resolution person, but I'll say that 2016 is going to be a year of abandon for me.  Abandoning the remnants of my self doubt/consciousness, abandoning fear and clinging to the truth of my heavenly Father's provision and faithfulness, abandoning how I think things should be.  

I've tasted the freedom that comes from that in 2015, and really just want more.

All of the Shoulda-Coulda-Wouldas lyin' in the sun, 

talkin' about the things that they shoulda-coulda-woulda done.  

Then all of the Shoulda-Coulda-Wouldas ran away and hid, from one little Did.

-Shel Silverstien

Details

{blouse} - thrifted

{sweater} - Urban Outfitters

{jacket} - Michael Kors

{pants} - thrifted

{shoes} - Chelsea Crew

Standing Still

This Autumn feels different than the two or three before it, and I think I've realized it comes down to walking-- or really, lack there of.  

The last several Fall seasons of my life have come complete with new endeavors that, at some point, required a section of walking in my weekly commute-- including living a short 5 minute walk to the train for two years.  I didn't realize until the last couple of weeks, how much I dearly miss that little part of my morning and evening-- being out and about, seeing the leaves change week by week, passing people, exposed to chance encounters and happenstance.  Driving from home to my work studio each day has felt like being locked in a glass box, away from life.  Perhaps I'm melodramatic-- I probably am, but that little slice of time spent moving my feet from place to place, brought with it gratitude, a clear mind, and wonder about the world and faces around me.  I feel the lack of that this year, and have a marked memory of the wistful creativity that flowed freely from it.

I'm not quite sure how, but I may have to jimmy-rig a way to walk somewhere a couple of times during my week-- perhaps to meet a friend for coffee at a spot a couple blocks from my studio, or to the grocery around the corner?  It's amazing how such a small detail can affect the entire feel of one's life.

D e t a i l s

{dress} - vintage early 50's, via Sunday Girl Finds

{t-shirt} - thrifted

{oxfords} - Julianne Hough via Sole Society

{locket} - handmade, gift

The Threshold

The Fall has been beautiful this year, full of sunshine, new beginnings and circles made full. The pursuit of Action has continued (to some extent, I'm sure it always will for me) and with it have come both beautiful moments of flight, and crash landings. But even the crashes I've walked away from, and surviving somehow makes you realize that risk is very very worth it.

I've shut doors on myself for years, so that others could not close them on me. Yet all this time, God has been waiting to send people and callings and ideas through those doors to me. The past couple of years I started to realize this, and stopped closing doors on myself. 

Still, it was all I could do to stand before an open door and wait-- I could never cross the threshold. Paralyzed by shame and fear of rejection, I'd stand there and half make awkward eye contact with those people, ideas and callings...until they couldn't wait on the other side any longer. Self sabotage at it's best.

I've walked through plenty of doorways in my adult life, some even at a full and decisive run. Certain kinds of doorways are harder than others though.

At the end of August, I made a very formal decision to step fully into Action-- the simplicity of which, I don't think I had ever realized before (Love Does was the key for me, in case you are curious). My first timid steps through one of my more difficult doorways (completely laying myself open to vocational, creative and intellectual rejection) was overwhelmingly blessed by the end of the same day. God is so like that though, once we can lean fully into him (caring not for our fears, or selves) he can usher us in to the amazing plans he has for us-- plans that will delight our hearts, and put our hands to joyful work. We just have to run through the door! Don't measure it, don't check the time, just engage.

My steps through the more challenging doorways have grown more excited, more peace filled, even if some still give me pause. I guess I've realized that trusting humans means first trusting God-- that whatever they do, for good or evil, he can use or redeem. 

Details

{thermal} - thrifted

{wool skirt} - vintage 40's, via Comet Vintage

{shoes} - vintage 70's, thrifted

{bracelet} - gift

Timing + Balance

Lately (okay, forever) I have been thinking about the way things sometimes fall apart, and other times, fall together. 

Why he never spoke words, why I never asked for them, and why we ended up both confused. That, or how in the world I came down with a nasty case of poison ivy the day after being cast as a lead in a musical and renting a new workspace-- having to wait two weeks to do a thing with either. Lots of other things too, some on the positive side of that spectrum, like how I rented a house that just happened to have my favorite flower vining it's way up the front door, having just enough financial resources in a time of dire need, or randomly running into a good friend in a sea of people.

Both beautiful and tragic happenings, that can only be chalked up to this thing I have mixed feelings about: timing. Some people say it's everything, but lately I've kind of just felt like shaking it by the scruff of it's neck-- which, from experience, I know is like kicking a bee hive. The times in my life that I've felt the most free, have occurred when I've done the opposite: release all care or attempted control, and simply ride the wave. I've been able to find the peace that comes from knowing that, whatever the outcome of the timing in my life, it is with purpose and designed by a God who loves me.  Even poison ivy. Even mortality, and pain. Even seven formative years trapped in sleep.

The longer I live, the more I am pleasantly surprised when I choose to roll with the punches-- for you really must, to get to what's real. <---- Yes, enjoy that over-philosophizing of 80's rock lyrics.

In other news: I've finally been able to set up my work space this week, and despite being held back by bronchitis (apparently my body was just not ready to defend itself yet, after the poison ivy), I am so excited to resume work on my canvas goods! The whole 3 and a half week ordeal has left me desperate for action in a way I've never felt, which I think is somewhat the point God is making: I should always take full advantage of each day, opportunity, or experience because I could be benched at any moment.

It's strange to feel so run down and so blessed at the same time, but I do. If you've read here long at all, you'll know that I love juxtaposition-- I think I'm beginning to realize that the heart of that is really balance.

Complexity + Understanding

What is it about mixing hard and soft that just never, ever gets old for me? Not just in aesthetics (shooting polo + floral dress), but I've even noticed my favorite people, stories and music are that way.  Most things that come out of my brain through my hands or mouth fall into that category as well. Complexity is so beautiful.

So why then, does it seem that humans tend to make sweeping generalizations about each other? Assuming human beings can be summed up by what we see, put in one box or another-- though I've surely done it myself, isn't it silly? Why can't we remember that every person is complex, as is their hurt, joy and experiential record.

There's nothing like being on the receiving end of such, to make me examine myself. When am I guilty of that? When have I made someone feel summed up in a single negative statement? Or by silent negation? When have I arrived at a (likely misinformed) conclusion based only on observation and void of context?

Sometimes I think the best thing we can do when someone rubs us the wrong way, is to remember their complexity, and to seek to know them-- or at the very least, remind ourselves that we do not know their hearts or thoughts.

Here's to understanding.

Details

{shooting polo} Ralph Lauren

{dress} vintage 50's, via Sunday Girl Finds

{sandals} Seychelles

{twenty seven}

Life has felt so vivid and real lately. Maybe it's having three different birthday celebrations spread over one week, or perhaps it's the recent progress and clarity of vision I've experienced in the last couple of weeks.  Things are moving, sliding into place, and it is good. God, you are always so, so good.

When I use the words above to describe my recent life, I do not mean easy or simple or obvious.  I mean full of energy, action and life, which often means things are even more uncertain or risky. I've realized that's almost required for success and fullness of life, to step out in the line of fire.

I've been doing a good deal of that recently, so on Wednesday when I turned 27, I took to one of my favorite forested spots for a reminder of God's bigness-- that when I step into the line of fire, it's in his arms and not on my own merit (thank goodness).  Is there really anything like nature to put the size of our Creator into perspective?

{details}

Dress - handmade by Alfie Ruth

Lace Top - Everly via Modcloth

Necklace - handmade by Seven Finches

Sandals - Seychelles via Modcloth