blessed, life lesson, little reminders of life, love, thanksgiving 2013


Thanksgiving 2013.

And thanks will never be strong enough a word to convey what I feel. All I know is that I believe in my story, and I believe in yours. The fact it’s a story in motion, a story of healing and change, a story for which I am forever thankful.


If you’re reading this, if there’s air in your lungs on this November day, then there is still hope for you. Your story is still going. And maybe some things are true for all of us. Perhaps we all relate to pain. Perhaps we all relate to fear and loss and questions. And perhaps we all deserve to be honest, we all deserve whatever help we need. Our stories are all so many things: Heavy and light. Beautiful and difficult. Hopeful and uncertain. But our stories aren’t finished yet. There is still time, for things to heal, change, and grow. There is still time to be surprised. We are stories still going, you and I. We are stories still going. – Jamie Tworkowski 

a list of sorts, growing up, joy that little things bring, life lesson, missing you, my life, november 2013, poetry, write it out, writing from the heart

A cure for restlessness.

November 1, 2013. Kansas City.

I fear I’ve no proper title for this post. “Cure” is a bit too promising. Maybe “ways to help” would be more fitting. But I like it. And so there’s that.

Getting on with it…

Of course, as expected, coming back from Munich has left me with a sense of restlessness. It’s hard to go from everyday being an absolute adventure, full of new words and people, to something a little bit more routine. But it’s all about perspective. Because a few weeks ago I found myself lost in downtown Kansas City and I could have very well been in a foreign city, I was so lost. But it was beautiful, and I stopped and took a picture. Because this was the Kansas City I grew up in. There’s so much of it I have yet to see. Isn’t that kind of amazing? My whole life, and yet, this little block I’d never registered in my memory. Or maybe, living abroad for two years is what it took for me to notice these things. It’s as if you have to leave in order to come home and see what’s really there.

But, as per usual, I have a soul that’s always longing to wander. One of my very favorite songs — Anchor by Mindy Gledhill — has a line that says “I am nearly world renowned / As a restless soul who always skips town” and the first time I heard that line it struck a chord deep within my heart. It definitely spoke to me. As cheesy, and pun-ny as it sounds. I am a restless soul. That’s the truth.

I am, however, in a Season of transition, a time of learning and growing and preparation. I’m not sure what for exactly, but I just know that this is a vital time during which is so important for me to be patient and learn what fuels my soul.

So far I have learned the following:

A “cure for restlessness”
if you will:

Tea. Even if you have to microwave the water because you don’t have a kettle nor the desire to buy one… yet. 

Books. All kinds. All topics. All the books. 

Frasier. Or whatever happens to be your TV fix as of late. On repeat. Every night as you fall asleep. 

Gratitude. And expressing it. 

Writing letters. The good, old-fashioned, stick a stamp on it, push it through the mail slot kind. 

Water. Lots. I prefer sparkly now because Germany was bound to get me hooked, and that it did. 

Music. As often as you can. As loud as plausible. Singing along. (This mix is wonderful.)

(And: I’m trying to memorize my favorite poems. This is one.) 

by Mary Oliver

May I never not be frisky,
May I never not be risque,

May my ashes, when you have them, friend,
and give them to the ocean,

leap and froth of the waves,
still loving movement,

still ready, beyond all else,
to dance for the world.

“The only way that we can live, is if we grow. The only way that we can grow is if we change. The only way that we can change is if we learn. The only way we can learn is if we are exposed. And the only way that we can become exposed is if we throw ourselves out into the open. Do it. Throw yourself.” ― C. JoyBell C.

quote of the week

{Quote of the Week.}

“…Some moment happens in your life that you say yes right up to the roots of your hair, that makes it worth having been born just to have happen. Laughing with somebody till the tears run down your cheeks. Waking up to the first snow. Being in bed with somebody you love… whether you thank god for such a moment or thank your lucky stars, it is a moment that is trying to open up your whole life. If you turn your back on such a moment and hurry along to business as usual, it may lose you the ball game. If you throw your arms around such a moment and hug it like crazy, it may save your soul.”  ― Frederick Buechner

anxiety, hope, lists, little reminders of life, november 2013, wisdom, words from my heart, write it out

You Deserve To Be Happy.

After writing all day at work, once I get home I long to have a delicious dinner, catch up with friends, and unwind while watching Frasier (my go-to show as of late). I’m sorry I have yet to create a proper schedule wherein I plan for work-related writing and blog/self-related writing.

And, to be honest, I have also been having a rather hard time with my anxiety and depression, which makes doing the slightest of tasks feel impossible. But, with my new lamp for some extra Vitamin D, time asking for help, learning to have more Faith, and taking myself off the hook**, day by day old joy comes back to me. (I love that line.) 

In the meantime, I have been referring to this list, most often opting for No.1–however, sending the notes I write. There’s something about putting down your words in your handwriting, and knowing the letter will be found by the ones you love, their hands holding the same paper you held only a few days prior. However, I have done many of the other ideas listed, and they have helped immensely (as has that lamp!).

When you’re sad:
by thewastedgeneration

1. Write letters to the people you love. Don’t seal them; don’t send them. Instead, stick them between the pages of library books.

2. Eat raspberries off your fingertips.

3. Venture outside and observe natural life. Watch a honey bee suck the nectar from lavender plants. Watch a snail slowly make its way towards the shade of a tree. Watch a hummingbird innocently fly above your head. Realize how insignificant you are.
4. Smile at strangers; say hello. It will improve their day and your own.
5. Write lists. They can be about anything.
6. Read several pages of the dictionary. Learn new words. Write down the ones you wish to remember.
7. Never feel compelled to apologize when you don’t feel sorry. It’s okay that you’re honest. It’s okay that you have a different opinion from someone else.
8. Read books and watch movies from your childhood. A healthy dose of nostalgia is okay. Immerse yourself in your past innocence.
9. Walk to a park and get on a swing. Go as high as you can; feel limitless. The world is yours.
10. Eat if you’re hungry. Food is not the enemy. You are a human and need food to survive. You deserve to eat. Put those raspberries on your fingers and sprinkle sugar on your tongue. Taste the summer breeze and sweet aroma of jasmine flowers.
11. Don’t marinate in your sadness. You are not a steak. You are a person; you’re irreplaceable. Open yourself up to contentment. Bathe in the rivers of Glee. Go for hikes with Satisfaction. Sleep in a warm cocoon of blankets with Bliss. Let endless happiness overcome your hopeless sadness. You deserve to be happy. If life is a game and you are the referee, be biased for once and let happiness win.


**I just finished Help Thanks Wow, and it was a much-needed boost. This quote really stood out to me: My priest friend Bill Rankin said that through prayer, we take ourselves off the hook and put God on the hook, where God belongs. When you’re on the hook, you’re thrashing, helpless, furious, like a smaller kid lifted by the seat of his pants by a mean big kid. Jesus, on the literal hook of the cross, says to God, “Help,” and God enters into every second of the Passion like a labor nurse.

little reminders of life, poetry, read it love it, wise words


One day I’ll give birth to a tiny baby girl
and when she’s born she’ll scream
and I’ll tell her to never stop.

I will kiss her before I lay her down at night
and will tell her a story so she knows
how it is and how it must be for her to survive.

I’ll tell her to set things on fire
and keep them burning
I’ll teach her that fire will not consume her
that she must use it.

Nicole Blackman, excerpt from “Daughter”
quote of the week

{Quote of the Week.}


“Some periods of our growth are so confusing that we don’t even recognize that growth is happening. We may feel hostile or angry or weepy and hysterical, or we may feel depressed. It would never occur to us, unless we stumbled on a book or a person who explained to us, that we were in fact in the process of change, of actually becoming larger, spiritually, than we were before. Whenever we grow, we tend to feel it, as a young seed must feel the weight and inertia of the earth as it seeks to break out of its shell on its way to becoming a plant. Often the feeling is anything but pleasant. But what is most unpleasant is the not knowing what is happening. Those long periods when something inside ourselves seems to be waiting, holding its breath, unsure about what the next step should be, eventually become the periods we wait for, for it is in those periods that we realize that we are being prepared for the next phase of our life and that, in all probability, a new level of the personality is about to be revealed.”Alice Walker, Living by the Word