The Jason Mraz Manifesto

If you're friends with me, be it in person or on Facebook, you know something about me.

If you work with me, you also know this fact about me, because you hear it what must seem like daily on my office Pandora station.

I love the music of Jason Mraz.  I love it with my whole heart.

I can't pinpoint the exact reason for why his music speaks to me on such a mind blowing scale, it just does. His music has a spirit of joy, adventure, contentment and, well, sunshine that is absolutely contagious to me.  I think if I could live in the songwriting style of any performing artist, I would live in the crux of Jason Mraz's inspiration. There's laughter, wordplay, sarcasm, wisdom, God, stars, rainstorms, sweet lovin's, beautiful ocean waves, a lack of hesitation, an abundance of happiness, co-dependence on real people, and a thirst for living in the moment.

I want all of these things in the everyday routine of my life. 

I want to live my life like it's a Jason Mraz melody.  What does that look like?

How do I make that happen? Where do I start?

Well lovers, allow me to expand.

It looks like a manifesto;  a manifesto that I started working on tonight, amidst piles of forgotten memories and favorite books as I took a little trip down memory lane, through my library, and compiled a list of near-and-dears to my heart; a collection of contented sighs and quiet wishes that I can actively participate in every single day. 

Yes, for the past two hours, I've been sitting on my bed, after a thorough gutting of my most hallowed literary library.  I pulled out every book that has monumentally altered my personhood, and threw them all over my bed, pages falling open and underlinings popcorning out at me from between chapters.  I picked each one up, felt it in my hands, opened up to a random page and let time take its natural course through a reliving of the relationship I once had with the exact book between my fingers. 

All the while, I listened to "Love Is A Four Letter Word" and realized the album in question seems to have been written precisely for this exact role, to become my bold, red-letter undertaking.

Particularly, this song.

In fact, "Living in the Moment" has become the title track to this little project, nestled lovingly in my black moleskine notebook.  I even took the liberty of putting into practice one of life's newest old lessons that I'm learning this year:  I wrote the entire thing in pencil, in place of ink.

So below, my dears, I'm going to share with you my goals for the upcoming future. 

Keep in mind that there are many things I want out of life which I have chosen to exclude from this list, because this little beauty is not all-inclusive.  It's rather exclusive, actually.  Mostly because it's themed to a particular man's particular style of musical creativity. 

Themes are good, though, every now and then- particularly when they're strong enough to stand alone.

So here you go:  The Jason Mraz Manifesto, inspired by the album: Love Is A Four Letter Word.

• Before reading further, I must place the direct lyrics which started this project here.  Taken from the song, "Living in the Moment." 
  
  And if I fall asleep, I know you'll be the one
  Who'll always remind me to live in the moment.
  To live my life easy and breezy with peace in my mind
  Peace in my heart, peace in my soul
  Wherever I'm going, I'm already home. 

• I will eat more lettuces, french beans, and radishes, but I will not steal them as little Peter Rabbit did, stealing his vegetables from the fearsome Mr. McGregor's garden.
  
•  I will remember the lesson Dr. Seuss taught me when I was very young: every day is a great day for Up.
  
• I will spend more time admiring the stars and learning the names of the constellations, like I did as a little girl.
  
• Peter Pan's last words to Wendy were, "Just always be waiting for me, and then some night you will hear me crowing."  -  I will practice Wendy's patience, and I will always be waiting to hear the sound of your rooster crow one last time.
  
• "Tell me, Muse, of the man of many ways who was driven
  far journeys, after he had sacked Troy's sacred citadel.
  Many were they whose cities he saw, whose minds he learned of,
  Many the pains he suffered in his spirit on the wide sea." - Opening of Homer's Odyssey.  I will strive to remember these words as often as I can, so that I, too, may be a person of "many ways."
  
• I will try to help people often. And in these acts of service to other human beings, I will remember Annie Dillard's words as a beacon to always practice kindness and gentleness, "Cruelty is a mystery, and the waste of pain." (from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.)
  
• I will find my Walden.  I will live deliberately.  (I must take this moment to bless Henry David Thoreau for writing one of the most important books I have ever read.)
  
• I will continue my love affair with Holden Caulfield.
  
• I will capture my own castle. ( I will also share this Dodie Smith masterpiece with another living soul, so they, too, can capture their own castle.)
  
• I'll work really friggin' hard for a shot at a Silver Lining. (Excelsior!)
  
• To rekindle in my heart the aggressive, compassionate drive that Annie Sullivan possessed, to channel the deep love that she felt for Helen Keller, "To know with one word, and I can put the world in your hand!" - This will be my future, to work a miracle in someone else's life.
  
• To pray every single night that I will grow a heart as big as Mamma T's.
  "God has created us so we do small things with great love.  I believe in that great love, that comes, or should come, from our heart, should start at home with my family, my neighbors across the street, these right next door.  And this love should then reach everyone." -Mother Theresa.
  
• I will continually re-read my battleworn copy of Passion and Purity, and take sweet Elisabeth Elliott's word to heart about falling in love with a man who's future belongs solely to the work of God.  "The things that we feel most deeply we ought to learn to be silent about, at least until we have talked them over thoroughly with God."
  
• I'll actually read that cheesy marriage book I got at a white elephant Christmas party two years ago, instead of gripe about its very existence.  (Funny memory, at that same white elephant party, I also won a kneeboard.)
  
• Every damn day: "Smile, Liz, from your liver" will be my mantra.  Thanks, Ketut.  (From Eat, Pray, Love.)
  
• "As I once became part of them, all these creatures of the sea are now a part of me, in my mind, in my soul, in my dreams." -Chris Newbert. I feel this speaks for itself.
  
• Researching ancient shark folklore will be a "happy soul" past-time.
  
• I'm going to spend some of my tax return on supporting my favorite photographer, because his work captures all of the joy in my heart. (Shout out to Chris Burkard and his California Surf Project, which has been lovingly tucked under my arm and close to my heart for almost three years now. Below is just a fleeting example of his soul-wrenching gift.)

• I will study long and hard how to attain a spirit as elegant as the spirit which belongs to the lovely Audrey Hepburn.
  
• I will love my puppy.
  
• I will pray for the soul of the little boy my family is now sponsoring in Ethiopia, and I will write him letters and send him cards with candy inside of them.
  
• "One day you'll find that I have gone, for tomorrow may rain, so I'll follow the sun", will be the new song of my heart.  Thanks, John, Paul, George and Ringo.
  
• I will follow more writing prompts.  (Now accepting applications!)
  
• In closing, I'll try to remember daily a few of Albus Dumbledore's precious words on love: 
  "To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever.  It is in your very skin."  I will remember this on days when I need to recall that Christ's self-sacrificial heart, and the beloved books of my youth, are all of the same genre.  For which, I am eternally thankful.

So there you have it, friends, lovers, dears.  This is my Jason Mraz Manifesto. 

Cheers to pursuing peace, and finding it in the most beloved corners of your daily life.

May the absolute sweetest dreams find their way to you, tonight!

All my love,

Hannah

This Is Not A New Year's Post

I've been struggling for the past 24 days with whether or not to write a New Year's post.

If anything, I've really decided against doing it.  The newness of this year is something I don't really feel like discussing.

If I'm going to be honest, the past 24 days of 2014 have really just firmed up the tidy little ending to a chaotic year, and the only thoughts the New Year has brought me are of its predecessor and all the many things that happened during 2013.

And so, in place of heralding in the current Ano Nuevo, I'd like to give a little salute'n'boot to 2013, and to tip my hat in honor of some things I learned along the way.

This isn't a re-cap, it's not a summation of events, it's not even going to be all that descriptive.  If you're looking to know exactly what's going on in my life, you're not going to find it here.  Nor are you going to discover what I've been up to since the last time I posted, which was the day before Thanksgiving.  If you want to know those things, call me.  It may be the age of technology and all, but hey, I'll tell you one thing: if you really want to make an impression on someone, call them.   Ask them how their life is going.  Be present.

(I digress.)

If, however, you enjoy my vaguely perilous dogmatic excerpts, and are no stranger to indistinct commentaries on the nuances of average, please, be my guest to continue reading.

THINGS I LEARNED IN 2013:

• I learned how to parallel park an all-wheel-drive wagon. (No small feat, I assure you.)
• I learned more about piano servicing than the average non-musical, non-technical person should ever know.
• I learned the difficult truth that when someone tells you they want to accompany you "always and forever" no matter where you go, the proper response is not to blurt out, "Well, that's just not realistic."
• I learned about the precious gift which is the type of smile you can hear in someone's voice. 
• I learned that the internet is capable of changing people in unexpected ways.
• I learned my identity in Christ.
• I learned that whenever a cute guy driving a huge RV towing a dune buggy and full to the brim of laughing twenty-somethings leans out of his window to yell, "Hiiii!  You're really pretty!!!!" In the middle of Sunday evening traffic in Santa Barbara, CA, you should accept the fact that you're beautiful, whether or not you agree. 
• I learned that some people have mermaid blood.
• I learned the difference between "I love you," and "I miss you."
• I learned that sharks have very similarly structured eyes to humans, and unlike most in the animal kingdom, they can see vividly in color.
• I learned that loneliness is not a curse, although it is a struggle to navigate.
• I learned that saying goodbye is the hardest possible thing to do.
• I learned that you are never too old to ride the teacups at Disneyland.
• I learned that I am surprisingly good at office administration.
• I learned that loved ones can hurt you.  Deeply.
• I learned that people cannot be navigated.
• I learned the fondness I have for the diversity of a certain four-lettered word.
• I learned that tragedy strikes in the most raw, intimate, and devastating manners possible.
• I learned the power of a good voicemail.
• I learned that sometimes, the only proper response is to scream out, "ONE MORE TIME WITH FEELING!" at the top of your lungs.
• I learned how lost you feel when you compromise one of the most beautiful, priceless relationships in your life.
• I learned that Michigan is known as the "mitten state."
• I learned that it is one-hundred percent possible to miss someone you've only met once, and are likely to never meet again.
• I learned that God walks on the Ocean floor.
• Finally, I learned that no matter how old you keep getting, you never stop learning new things.

2013 was a riotous stampede of rust and wreckage.

Thanks for the memories.

XoXo,

Hannah

The Day Before Thanksgiving

T-minus one hour and 13 minutes until Thanksgiving 2013, lovers.

I've been busy today, as is the rest of America.

Unconventionally busy, though.  This year is decidedly different from years before.  My family, for instance, is spending the holiday at the beach, and going out to eat to a nice restaurant instead of doing the big schabang with all of our extended relatives.

To be honest, folks, my family tree has seen its fair share of storms over the last 5 or 6 years.

Holding absolutely zero feet to the fire, let me just quickly (and honestly) say time has increasingly dwindled our numbers, there are few left to gather together.

My parents are tired of 40 years of large scale Thanksgiving dinners.  I can't say that I blame them.  The four of us (Moseby has adjusted nicely and is now a fully indoctrinated addition to our family) are headed to the coast for the holiday weekend, and I couldn't be more excited.

There's been a lot to reflect over, the past few weeks.

Particularly in the past few days, I've been pondering the meaning of the word 'unity', and probably for a myriad of different reasons. The word strikes me as suddenly beautiful, as though I've never heard it before.  It rolls off my tongue as I sound it out phonetically on my way to work in the mornings.

The past year, as was the forecast, was indeed a year of solitude.  Conversely, I'm beginning to hope and pray that the theme for next year will instead be one of unity, as I feel for some strange reason that God is laying this word on my heart in a touching, impacting manner.

Perhaps that's why I'm so excited to celebrate Thanksgiving away from home this year.  There is a lonely sort of solitude in sharing someone's memories, but there is a deep unity that accompanies sharing new experiences, and that is what I'm looking forward to over the next few days.

New experiences.

Today I came home from work and I cleaned out my car, bathed the pup, watched Love Actually, packed the pup, packed myself, ironed some clothes, and ignored the paper I have due on Sunday that I haven't really started on yet. Papers are important, yes, but tonight was made for something different.  This is a special night, the night before Thanksgiving.  This is easily one of my favorite nights of the year, although emotional in many ways.

While I was increasingly busy tonight, and getting lots of intermittent lovins' from my pup, I couldn't help but think about the few things that are always on my mind on nights like this.  My grandmother, thoughts of her are always near during the holidays; I feel her moving through my family with warmth and love. I thought back to Thanksgivings past.

Last year, I spent it with a beautiful family of co-workers as we weathered the rush-time shift between the hours of 6pm Thanksgiving evening and 2pm Black Friday morning.  That was one hell of a night to be a barista at the top-grossing Starbucks in the entire state, but it is one of my most favorite holiday memories to date.

Also last year, I spent the Friday after Thanksgiving, celebrating the large meal with my family, circled around the dinner table, holding my 1-month old sleeping niece in my arms and daydreaming about the boy I loved at the time.  It's funny now, how much my niece has grown in one year, and how that love has disintegrated into nothing but happy, distant memories. It's funny how things change.

The year before that my parents and I went out to dinner and came home to decorate the house for Christmas, while watching a campy horror movie my funny, lovely aunt got my dad for his birthday.  I believe it was called "Motel Hell." I was emotional at the thought that in a few short weeks, just after New Year's, I would be starting a new adventure and moving to the beach to attend Ecola.  I had no idea what God had in store for me.

Two years before that, my entire family was together.  There were so many bodies, we needed three tables. I remember smiling until my mouth hurt. I remember hugs, and laughter, and such deep, everlasting warmth.  A sheltering, comforting unity.

A unity that has since been put aside.

A unity that only God in his miraculous grace can restore.

A unity which sometimes, in moments of nostalgic remembrance, I deeply ache for.

Sometimes things happen in life that are neither expected or well-received.  They are not desired, not intended, not understood, not accepted.

And the shame, the guilt, the anger, the frustration, the trenches of hurt and miles of regret are impossible to navigate.

But tonight, I am reminded that while the past breeds disunity, the future demands unity, a perfect unity comprised in the ultimate reign of our God and King.

The future demands unity.  Unity is what this world is predestined for.  As long as we have Christ, we are steeped in unity, and while the past may be painful or impossible to forget, we must remember that there is hope shining at the end of the tunnel, like a bright beacon, guiding us into that perfect unity with Christ. Let us look to the future, and live in the momentous blessing which is every minute of our lives.

These are the special times, lovers.  Right now.  Right in the midst of pain, entrenched in the heart of suffering, battered by the blows of age and regret, we are united in Christ.

These are the special times.

Happy Thanksgiving, one and all.

Tell somebody that you love them, tomorrow.  Tell somebody that they are special to you.

I love you, and you, and you.

Goodnight.

Xx










 

Awake, O Sleeper

"Awake, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." -Ephesians 5:14

Well, lovers- I'm no longer dead.

I've alluded to an emotionally turbulent past few months in my recent posts, and I reaffirm that allusion here today.

I confess to you, lovers, that I have not been a shining example of that glorious, elusive Proverbs 31 woman as of late.  I have not been clothed with "dignity, and righteousness,"  nor have I been "laughing without fear of my future."

I have lived the past few months trembling, in constant fear and distress, and wallowing in a sick ball of my own debilitating self-absorption. I have lost sleep and sanity over simple matters of the heart which I am not proud to say have unmasked the depth of my weaknesses. My heart found itself in a place it was not ready to be, and I have spent quite a few sleepless nights crying my hurt out to God. 

But you see, I thought throughout all of my distress, that I was doing the right thing by leaning so heavily in the comforting arms of my Savior.  I thought that constantly complaining to God during my morning and evening commutes, throughout lulls in my work day, and every night before bed was healthy.  I thought that masking my discontent through prayers meant I was trusting in God to deliver me from my heartache.

Lovers, I was wrong.

Please don't misunderstand me.  When we go through trials, and suffer losses or unexpected hurts, we are to lean solely on Jesus Christ as our one, everlasting comforter.  This is an absolute truth.  I cannot, and will not deny this.

However, there's a fine line between grieving and wallowing.  My vulnerability in the eyes of my Lord gave way to crumbling selfishness and self-obsession, and I completely lost sight of my life, my purpose.

I forgot to focus on what brings joy in life.  I forgot to focus on the care of and attention to others.  I forgot to busy my mind with other things, good things- I forgot to strive to be a blessing to others and to be thankful for my current heart condition.

I forgot how to laugh.  I forgot to "count it all joy."

The worst part of this, is the fact that I only just realized my predicament last night.

It might seem stupid to say, but I realized it while I was sitting in my local theater by myself, watching an early evening showing of Thor 2: The Dark World.

A simple line delivered from the ridiculously attractive (Seriously, it's not fair) Tom Hiddleston  (cloaked as Loki in green with disgustingly suave greased hair... Yeah, okay, I'm not really sure I get my attraction to this character either... You learn something new about yourself everyday. I digress.)
anyway, this line was delivered during a heated argument with his brother, Thor, and it figuratively brought me before my knees as it drifted through my ears.

"Satisfaction is not in my nature."

Lovers, do you know what hasn't been in my nature over the past few months?

Satisfaction.

I have not been satisfied with the current situation in life that God has set before me.

I have been acting like a spoiled child, rolling around in their own ungrateful filth, upset that their desires have been refused, or postponed.

God, forgive my dissatisfaction.  Forgive my selfishness. You are enough.  You are enough.

The truth is, lovers, I have struggled with depressive anxiety for most of my post-adolescent life.

I go through good spells, and I go through bad spells.

Each bad spell gets progressively easier to go through, and my hope and prayer is that someday, I will no longer experience tailspins when things go awry as they tend to do every-so-often.  It's a work in progress, and it's a process that humbles me before Christ in more ways than I can count, so perhaps my anxiety is actually one of my greatest blessings.  Not sure I can let myself see it that way, yet, but who knows what the future will bring?

What I almost never seem to remember, however, through these bad spells, is that constant introspection is extremely unhealthy.

What I mean by that, is things are always at their absolute worst, when I spend most of my waking hours thinking about whatever it is I'm going through.  Financial stress, emotional stress, relational stress.  I tend to live my life constantly worrying about each of these areas, even when I am laughing, or seem happy.

I mask my stress extremely well, and thus most of those closest to me rarely know I'm on the brink of a break-down because I have auto-trained myself to be ridiculously self-sufficient and I turn people away when they try to get close.

This is horrendously wrong, and so is allowing myself to spend all of my internal thoughts on these forms of anxiety.  To be constantly introverted and constantly thinking about myself and my hurts, my losses, my sufferings, my misfortunes, my predicaments is repulsive.  It's absolutely repulsive and unfortunately it is one of my biggest tendencies and temptations in this life.

This pattern has caused me to be on various medications (albeit few prescription medications, mostly all-natural supplements in a variety of colors, size and lengthily-worded ingredients) over the past several years.  This in and of itself is something else I tend to struggle with, as I dislike feeling reliant on pills.  I feel weak as though I can't handle my own life, which in hindsight, isn't actually bad, thus being on pills for a relatively harmless life tends to make me feel like the worst sort of failure.

During the last bout I had with this depressive anxiety, I went to see my naturopathic doctor and she prescribed another series of supplements and vitamins.  I took them for a few weeks until the world felt less dark, and my stomach bloat went away, and then I shoved them far back in my bathroom drawer, trying to forget my dependence on them and to guide myself into the ways of being strong and self-sufficient instead.

Well, you know what lovers?  I can be real stupid sometimes.

Sure enough, a few months went by without the natural aids and as soon as the going got tough, my world went very dark and consequently I found myself in another tailspin, as I realized again last night while watching Thor 2. 

This dep-anx bout has been going on (amazingly, it's escaped my knowledge until now) for the past several months. I have been completely absorbed in unimportant matters; real matters, which have caused real pain within my body, and heart, I grant that, but unimportant all the same.

The cycle always looks the same: I start to sleep restlessly, soon I begin waking up for hours in the middle of the night.  I crave foods high in carb content and cut out natural proteins almost entirely (for the record, I almost never notice that I'm doing this). I become exhausted 24/7 and therefore have extremely low energy levels. I cease all forms of activity.  I start to put on weight and my face begins to break out. I get nauseating headaches from a starving, yet always full, stomach and I tend to find 3 good reasons to cry daily.

I am a walking nightmare to be around, and the oddity of it all is I rarely notice it's happening to me, until I have one of those epiphanies (such as the one I had last night) and then things slowly start to fall back into their proper places.

I started taking my supplements again about five days ago.  Already, the dark, suppressive cloud I've been living in seems to have lightened considerably. At some point, I've got to realize that my body needs these supplements.  There's nothing I can do about it, and there's nothing wrong with it, either.  Acceptance.  Acceptance.  Acceptance.

I'm sleeping through the night, and sleeping well.

I confess my sins of pride and overwhelming selfishness to God before you all as witnesses, and I deeply apologize to anyone who has been caught in the crossfire of my vicious cycle lately, particularly my family.  I am sorry I am not easy to live with.

Christ is shining on me today, lovers- just like He's shining on all of you, as well.

Don't loose touch with yourself, the way I have the past few months.

It's just not worth it.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

(Also, go see the new Thor movie.  It's eye-opening. ;) )

It's A Monday.

Happy Monday evening to you, lovers.

For some of us, this Monday evening looks like blaring Billy Talent and Sum 41 while cleaning the bathroom after enjoying a bowl-full of homemade risotto (thanks, dad) and  some red wine.

The Italians know how to relieve stress, no?

The following phrases have, admittedly, been uttered tonight by yours truly due to such Italian stress relievers.

"I'mma eat all these damn cookies."  (Spoken to no-one in particular.)

"I deserve this, man." (.... Also spoken to no-one in particular.)

And my personal favorite ".... Stoppppp, you're being rude." (Spoken to my computer's automatic update task manager).

What can I say?

Risotto, Coppola and circus animal cookies make me feel pretty talkative.

As I'm sitting here, waiting for the bathroom cleaners to get nice and sudsy on all my bathroom surfaces, I decided to take a few moments to focus on thankfulness.

'Tis the season after all, right?

1. I am thankful, tonight, for the healthy sounds of punk rock streaming out of my laptop speakers. (Some things never change.)

2. I am thankful for the cool bathroom floor on which I am currently laying as I wait for the cleaners to perform their chemical magic. (I promise, this is merely because I am lazy. It has nothing to do with the wine. What kind of person do you think I am? It's a Monday, for crying out loud.)

3. Strange to say, I'm thankful for bathrooms which need cleaning.

4. I'm thankful for Italy.

5. I'm thankful for gym shorts and My Chemical Romance t-shirts and best friend group texts.

6. I'm thankful, tonight, that I'm single. (Take note of that, because I may never say that again.)

Life is always good, even when it seems really hard.

Wouldn't you agree, lovers?

I love you all.

Goodnight.

Morning Song

Good morning, lovers.

I'm sitting at my kitchen table, sipping on a hot mug of Ethiopian blend from Water Avenue (There's that word 'Yirgacheffe' again)... Listening to the sounds of my father frying sausage and potatoes in a pan on the stove and the morning-banjo strums of the Avett Brothers singing us both into a fluid sort of calm.

It's currently 8:20am, even though my mind is certain it's really 9:20am, and I keep having miniature freak-outs every time I glance at the clock.  Daylight Savings Time has never been a close friend of mine.

I don't actually have a lot to say on this lazy Sunday early morning, except I do want to keep up the tradition of thankfulness as best that I can.

So here we go.

1.  Today I am thankful for the beautiful moments God sends our way, even though life is hard.

2. Today I am thankful for my orange coffee mug which recites Luke 1:47 "My spirit rejoices in God my Savior!"  

3.  Today I am thankful for the strength and grace of women like my mother.

4. Today I am thankful for mornings.

5. Today I am thankful for my church, which at the end of every week really does feel like a haven in a storm, which really reminds me of my purpose on earth as one of God's warriors and messengers.

6. Today I am thankful for the things which hurt our hearts, even if their sole purpose is just to remind us that we're human beings, not robots.

Finally, there are a few things that I'm 100% not thankful for, that I absolutely should be. I'm going to list them here as things you might consider praying about for me, on the off chance that I ever cross your mind. I can't tell you how much I would appreciate it, if you do.

1.  I am not thankful for cancer.

2. I am not thankful for distance.

3. I am not thankful for math.

4. I am not thankful, sometimes, for the plan God currently has for my life.  (This is another reason why I AM thankful for my church, because my convictions rise and my sins are forgiven every Sunday and throughout the week as well.)

5. I am not thankful for the way friendships change.

Alright, lovers.

That's all for today.

Thanks for reading, thanks for considering prayers, and enjoy your extra hour of worship.  Whether that be used for sleeping, praying, reading your bible, kissing your babies, or cooking breakfast for a loved one.

November Blue

Lovers,

The first day of a new month is always minty-fresh, isn't it?

Winter is coming, and I'm excited for the stark newness it always seems to bring with it.  The past three months have been rough, to say the least.  I can't help but remember late last year, when I forecasted 2013's theme as being one of "Solitude."

Over the past few months, I've felt the reality of that word in a maddening sense.  Solitude wasn't intended to mean isolation, but rarely do predicted emotions work out the way you intend them too.  "So it goes, so it goes. "

October is over.  It is done, it won't come around for another 12 months.  With it, I also say goodbye to the crisp tear-stained nights spent hugging my pillowcase in quiet moments of frustration, and I say goodbye to the crinkly sounds of Nat King Cole teasing my tired heart to sleep only to wake suddenly a few hours later in the deadest hours of night, worrying about things I cannot control. 

Goodbye, tiny hurts.  November marks the beginning of a new season in which I plan to practice thankfulness and exaggerated amounts of prayer. 

"Just a closer walk with thee, granted Jesus is my plea. Daily walking close to thee, let it be, dear Lord, let it be."

Life is spurring us all onward, lovers. 

For me, this looks like new papers to write and new classes to enroll in and Christmas holidays to be spent in warm places.  It looks like falling in love with my new puppy, Moseby.  (Photographs to come soon after his arrival into my arms next weekend.)  It looks like a few excruciatingly difficult conversations which God is prepping me daily for, despite my fears and hesitations on the changes those conversations might bring. It looks like unforeseen, exciting expansion at work, it looks like saying goodbye to life as I've known it over the past two years, and holding my own hands as I toddle carefully into the future. ( I can't hold your hand anymore, dearest, to keep me strong.  I have to hold my own now. I am sorry. )

It looks like singing hymns in the shower.  It looks like laughing again, really laughing.  It looks like new journeys, previously known as adventures. It looks like dressing up my puppy in sunglasses and capes and driving with him to new places. It looks like making the distinctive shift from freely sharing to carefully guarding my precious heart. It looks like sipping Water Avenue coffee in my pajamas while perusing Pinterest and setting new personal goals for my life.  (Such as: get a French Bulldog, marry a man with an impressive bearding ability, convince that man to build me my very own tree-house. For those of you wondering, I am 1/3 of the way there.  Or I will be as soon as Moseby comes home next weekend.)

It looks like letting go completely of the past two years and all their overwhelming significance on my life.  Yes, the past two years have changed me completely- I have come a strangely full 360 degrees since I left for Ecola two years ago.  Those years were beautiful, and life-changing, and they swelled and surged as powerfully as the stormy ocean they were set by....   But they're over.  They're over, just like the month of October is finally over, and I cannot cling to them as my buoy anymore. 

I must stand on my own two feet from now on.  My eyes cannot be turned over my shoulder, yearning for that one summer filled with those heartbreaking people anymore.  My eyes are upward, forward.  "My chains fell off, my heart is free- I rose, went forth and followed thee. "

It's freeing, and sharp, and scary, and sometimes I feel throttled by fear, but I know it is right.  It is good.  I am trusting the Lord, and that is all-consuming, as it should be.

Today I am thankful for the first day of a new month.

I am thankful for the emotional roller coaster this year has been.

I am thankful for hymns.

I am thankful for the word "yirgacheffe" even though I have no idea what it means.

I am thankful for this space and the words I choose to fill it with, words you are so loving and caring to receive.

Happy November, lovers.