life: in progress

One of the most defining parts of a city is the proximity of shared spaces. There have been times when I've been so grateful for it, like when I start making a batch of cookies before checking to see if I have any eggs, and I can walk to the corner market and get a dozen and be home in five minutes. There have also been times when I've been less grateful, like when I lived next door to a makeshift mariachi band with regular late night jam sessions. But maybe the most poignant moment I've felt this so far in my life has been tonight. Last night, I stood on the balcony of my little two bedroom apartment and looked out past Lake Union up into the sky at the first full moon of 2019 and a total lunar eclipse. It was a miraculously crisp and clear night in Seattle, allowing me to carve out time with friends and companions and watch the whole eclipse, lasting a few hours from start to finish. I marveled at the universe and my small and so insignificantly significant place in ...

One of the great things about being new to an area is there is so much to explore, do, and see! It's fantastic, right? Right. Unless you suffer from decision paralysis. Let me tell you, this is a new phenomenon in my life, and it is no joke. I don't have many weekend commitments right now, so my typical Thursday-Sunday will go something like this: Thursday: Oh yes! It's almost the weekend! What should I do this weekend? Maybe I'll go for a hike. Maybe I'll rent a kayak and get out on the sound. Oooh maybe I could go skiing! Snowshoeing! Ah I've got it, I'll head to the Olympic coast, watch the waves, be moody. OR I could go to Portland. Everyone is going to Portland it's such a hip thing to do. I could get an Airbnb for the night. There's also this music venue I could go to. Really cool. I love live music, and this singer/songwriter's Instagram feed is on point.   Friday: Ok, I've narrowed it down. I'm either going to Portlan...

I'm afraid of living a boring life. More specifically, a life that other people think is boring. I rarely ever get bored with my own life, at least in the short term. I make plans, think of things to do, go on a bike ride, experiment with new recipes, read books, write down my thoughts. Sometimes I want to get out and see new places and sometimes I just want to wear my soft moccasins in a space that feels comfortable and familiar. It's a balance for sure, and I think it's different for everyone, but for me, the days of wanting to feel cozy and comfortable outnumber the days I want to be on the move and experiencing new things. At least that's what I thought up until recently. I've been revisiting this assumption because, this past year, I sincerely felt the need to uproot myself from the things I defined as secure and steady and reliable and to deliberately enter into a season of change, risk, instability, movement, freedom, and growth. I've been trying to art...

[Note: I talk about God in this post. (S)he is a very real and active force in my life and I didn't feel that I could write this post without discussing that. However, I want to acknowledge that it may be alienating and painful for some, especially those who have been hurt by the church or anyone who professes the name of God without professing the love of God.] There’s a book study out there called The Eight Feelings , written by Chip Dodd. In the book, the eight core feelings (from which all other feelings branch out) are hurt, lonely, sad, anger, fear, shame, guilt, and glad. I went through this study with a small group of friends and can assure you that, although naming and discussing feelings felt like marriage counseling 60% of the time, it was actually so helpful in expressing and understanding my own emotions. I don’t think the idea is flawless, primarily because I refuse to accept that all my emotions are variations on these eight, although I have yet to come across on...