Baptism

From the time I was a very small girl, I would often take long walks in the forest behind my grandparents’ house. There I explored and prodded the natural world – the way sodden, downed tree branches eroded within the earth and housed centipedes in their hollows, the way the thin sound of creek water skimmed the shale rock beneath it, and the way the sunlight exposed the quilted pattern of the leaves.

Such walks were quiet times, often taken alone. As a respite from my social world, I took these opportunities to look both inward and outward all at once. I remember in those woods first feeling a sense of other worldliness – that above the chaos and decay of the natural order was a wholeness binding me, my thoughts, feelings, and the life coursing through me, with all else that was created.

It makes sense then, if only looking back on it now, in an all-too-rare moment of grateful introspection, that I first came to know God through nature – standing on a balcony in Ahmedabad, India, a lost 16-year-old on my first international trip – unable to sleep during a rainstorm. I was struggling with my dislocation from country and family, agnosticism, and an immense fear of the future. I did not see the purpose of my life, juxtaposed with the lives of so many suffering souls I saw on the streets of India every day that summer. The economics, politics, and other broken systems of the world had clouded what I first saw in the woods as a child – the wholeness in the backdrop, the wholeness keeping us together in spite of ourselves. An insomniac, yearning teenager, I watched a deluge of God’s rain from the balcony, and I heard the words I would later read and believe in more than any others, the ascended Christ’s message to his children, “I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

Returning home from India, I attended church with a friend. I watched the Discovery Channel, read apologetics and meditated over the bible. I fought myself, and plenty of others, trying to intellectually assent to miracles and mysteries that are not meant for my human understanding. And in eight years of time, on August 1, 2009, I came to believe that the patient and perfect Jesus Christ was the risen Son of God, and that through him – the greatest manifestation of love that I have ever experienced – all my failings, faults and brokenness are redeemed. Less than a month later, I moved to Massachusetts and started my adult life.

Jesus has walked with me through so much. His love and beauty chase me every day of my life. I am so grateful for his grace and mercy, his justice and his hope. I am so thankful for my relationship with him, and alongside his creation, the coming kingdom of God that we joyfully celebrate together today and always.

Thanks for letting me play outside, Mom!

http://www.psmag.com/navigation/books-and-culture/value-unstructured-play-time-kids-81177/

(even when I would have over-scheduled myself.)

Starting early

How does institutionalized sexism start? How are we going to end it?

http://www.adweek.com/news/advertising-branding/sheryl-sandberg-rethinking-marketing-women-158194

KD

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AKk-yJ4cRDM

It can get really easy to get stuck sometimes. Yesterday I was anxious. I told myself it would be okay, even though I felt like I had too much on my plate, and not enough time or drive to do it all.

And sometimes, often times, I feel guilt for not appreciating all that I have. It would be easy to stay stuck. It would be easy to fall into a pattern of self-focus and worrying about the small things and not appreciating that I have been giving more than I ever deserve, so much so that even my worries are offshoots of blessings.

That's why it's so wonderful that other, wiser people exist in the world as an encouragement. Apparently, Kevin Durant is one such encourager. I hope I can be more like him, develop and encourage my children to be like him one day, and remember his perspective when I make my life unnecessarily sticky.

Good, bad, or indifferent?

 http://www.newswise.com/articles/view/618320/?sc=dwhn

My jury is still out.

Things Matt Says about Food

"Grilling dinner, because I'm an independent 20 year old."

Grilling. It's what independent 20 year olds do.

I knew we were all Martians

http://www.newswise.com/articles/view/618097/?sc=dwhn

"The label doesn't have to mean either perfection or rigidity, so don't be afraid to embrace it."

Good article, better title, applicable to the whole of life, if we could just go with it, equipping our imperfections and our discipline to improve ourselves to become friends with one another.

http://time.com/103243/if-youre-a-modern-dad-you-might-just-be-a-feminist/

Monday morning elucidations

“A smart person is not one that knows the answers, but one who knows where to find them...”

 

- William Petersen 

Things Matt Says About Food

"My mom said we have apple dumplings in the freezer..."

In related news, I have four World Swing Dance Council points!

That connection. And timing. And the cheese.

Still one of my favorites.

"I enjoy having a lot of cereal bars in the same way squirrels like having a lot of acorns for winter."

Please let me introduce you to my better half:

After serious consideration, I have decided that, for everyone's benefit, he will be making occasional guest appearances on the blog to highlight our culinary prowess as a couple.

Be ready to be wowed by our joint domesticity and refined taste in all things munchable.

For instance:

Or Perhaps:

 

But usually more like:

 Weekly archives will be posted under Sunrises, Sunsets and then "Things Matt Says About Food (2014)."

Thank you and good weekend!

Religion will make God a stranger to you

It's refreshing to get back to the root of intimacy with God, and others, via the indomitable Andy Stanley and his ability to convey truth.

Intimacy requires:

1) Time - un-rushed, unstructured, "I'm just hanging out, sitting with you" time.

2) Transparency - quit being so polite; be honest. You get all of me - the good and the bad.

3) Mutual Submission - the most powerful relational dynamic in the world. I'm going to harness all of my best talents and abilities for your best interest, and you will do the same for me. You have my best interests at heart, I have have yours too.

Ritual and religion are a caricature of what we really want, which is relationship.

While I think I do okay with this most of the time, it's a lifelong thing, and the people I know and the God I trust are so worth it.

For anyone who's suggested that Tina Fey resonates with me

 

You would be correct.

Maybe this is a next decade thing?

An encouragement for the day

"Be gracious in your speech. The goal is to bring out the best in others in a conversation, not put them down, not cut them out."

Colossians 4:6

"I can cook, provided you like pasta with any of a number of jarred sauces."

File this under little things that make my day.

"It takes a lot of effort to look like a normal/chubby woman."

This is worth a high-five.

Never be afraid

“An artist must be free to choose what he does, certainly, but he must also never be afraid to do what he must choose.” - Langston Hughes, 1926, “The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain.”

Hughes wrote poems about ordinary people leading ordinary lives, and about a world that few could rightly call beautiful, but that was worth loving and changing. 

-

What must you choose?

To an artist.

When Langston wrote to me, I was nine. Hold fast to dreams, for if they die, life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams, for if they go, life is a barren field frozen with snow.

College was a distant landscape of opportunity. Out of reach. Impossible. Langston wrote to me in bold magic marker print on a cardstock poster on Mrs. Lynch’s classroom wall. You may carve a dream with an humble tool.

There were sacrifices, sleepless nights, cold sweats before the SATs, financial aid applications. These were my hopes on the cusp of hopelessness, accompanied unfailingly by countless moments of quiet terror playing out a life that ended up outside of my way out, my alternative.

Into that silence, Langston spoke.

What happens to a dream deferred?

I was certain it went somewhere, whether dried, festering or sweet. He was not my father, but I listened to his voice as dear counsel. The dream deferred explodes, he said, press on, press on.

He was not my mother, but he nurtured me up stairs with tacks and splinters and boards torn up. He told me that there were others still going, still climbing, when I was alone with a text book, a desk lamp, and my insecurities.

When Langston wrote to me, I was nine. Now I’m grown, and The Collected Poems, a gift from a graduate school mentor, often call to me from my bookshelf.

He's written them all, The Panther and the Lash, Shakespeare in Harlem, Fine Clothes to the Jew, but it's my letter that's dogeared. When the realities of childhood or the turning points of  adolescence would have claimed me, I go back to the simple rhythms first implanted in my soul.

Hold fast to dreams. The pulses that revived me when I might’ve given in.

Instead, I stood there and hollered, and I often stood there and cried, but I’ll be dogged, sweet baby, if he was gonna see me die.

When Langston wrote to me, I was nine. My life wasn't always beautiful, but it was worth loving and changing.

So thank you, Langston, who adopted his people's heartbreak to birth them blues, who adopted a little girl’s sacred wishes and, in so doing, lifted them away from the too-rough fingers of the world.

Thank you to anyone who’s ever taught a child something that couldn’t be quantified.

Because when she’s grown, it may be an artist, never afraid to do what he must choose,
to whom she's writing back.

Thank you, family.

I stayed with a family led by a doctor and a nurse. I had lunch with their teenage daughter at a mall, and we talked about sororities. A decade prior, they had been in Uganda, exiled while their countrymen and women were exterminated in one of the worst human rights atrocities and social failings of the 20th century. They survived and served their people. I want to thank them, Global Youth Connect, my beloved friends made in Kigali, and the people of Rwanda for helping me to never forget that we are connected, we are here to love one another, and we will never let this happen again.

As I pretend to endeavor to get back into running

All of these resonate during my most literal trips down memory lane.

Just for one day

"I'll never forget that. It was one of the most emotional performances I've ever done. I was in tears. They'd backed up the stage to the wall itself so that the wall was acting as our backdrop. We kind of heard that a few of the East Berliners might actually get the chance to hear the thing, but we didn't realize in what numbers they would. And there were thousands on the other side that had come close to the wall. So it was like a double concert where the wall was the division. And we would hear them cheering and singing along from the other side. God, even now I get choked up. It was breaking my heart. I'd never done anything like that in my life, and I guess I never will again. When we did 'Heroes' it really felt anthemic, almost like a prayer. However well we do it these days, it's almost like walking through it compared to that night, because it meant so much more. That's the town where it was written, and that's the particular situation that it was written about. It was just extraordinary. We did it in Berlin last year as well – 'Heroes' – and there's no other city I can do that song in now that comes close to how it's received. This time, what was so fantastic is that the audience – it was the Max Schmeling Hall, which holds about 10-15,000 – half the audience had been in East Berlin that time way before. So now I was face-to-face with the people I had been singing it to all those years ago. And we were all singing it together. Again, it was powerful. Things like that really give you a sense of what performance can do. They happen so rarely at that kind of magnitude. Most nights I find very enjoyable. These days, I really enjoy performing. But something like that doesn't come along very often, and when it does, you kind of think, 'Well, if I never do anything again, it won't matter.'"

- David Bowie, on Heroes

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tgcc5V9Hu3g

Happy first day of the Boston Tea Party!

Despite the fact that I am rigorously preparing for competition, all I can think of when I anticipate dancing for another whole weekend straight is something that can be translated from my mind to yours as this:

http://www.superstarmagazine.com/this-guy-decided-to-dance-with-someone-on-the-street-what-happened-next-will-make-your-day/

No matter what you're doing in life, remember why you're doing it. In this guy's case, to interact with people, to see the city, and to dance.

What is it in your case? Why do the day to day things we all start to see as mundane? Why are we living life as we are, and can we take more joy in it than we have been?

Here's to a weekend of dance trials, memories, and spontaneous fun.

One more day until the Boston Tea Party

One more day until so much of this.

http://teapartyswings.com/

Look everywhere

Equilibration

Silence and sound - did they ever hold each other tight like us?

Nicest Thing

I wish you couldn't figure me out
But you always wanna know what I was about
I wish you'd hold my hand
When I was upset
I wish you'd never forget
The look on my face when we first met.

The dance for its people

http://vimeo.com/50544573

http://stuckonswing.com/

Which is yes

This makes me happy for undefinable reasons

Working List

http://www.marcandangel.com/2012/01/08/28-ways-to-stop-complicating-your-life/

I am going on vacation tomorrow, so perhaps this list is a little heavy handed to start pursuing more ardently during a time of leisure, but wow is it a good one to chip away at in general.

The dancer in me really resonates with 1, 21, 22. And with 1, 2, 3&4, 5&6. Okay, that second part was a joke.

But for real, as my competition season 2014 gears up, when it comes to dancing, I chose:

Quote hijacking for the season

"Allegedly, your situation — for you — would be concurrently improved if I had a hot chocolate in my hands right now."

- Good Will Hunting and DMV, with our powers combined

Eagerness

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/susan-rosenzweig/learning-to-wait-how-west_b_4129983.html

One of my dance instructors said I was a little eager. That's really a kiss of death, but I don't take it too personally, because 1) he's right, and 2) I am learning to be comfortable in my own dance shoes.

Being comfortable with dance is something I wrestle with - I ask, is this a waste of my money? Is it a waste of my time? Why do I feel this intense passion for something I, seven months ago, would have vehemently denied I could have ever entertained, much less dared to think I could master?

It's those doubting, questioning voices in my head that most convince me I need to keep going. See, those voices and the insecurities they stem from want to keep me small and fearful. They'd like for my eagerness to remain something I justify or refuse to look at in the mirror.

Instead, I see myself for all that I am when I dance - the people pleasing, the control issues, the skittishness - and I express that in a partnership of 2 to 5 minutes at a time. It's raw, and gut wrenching, like meeting someone's eyes and realizing they can read my mind. It's an exposure that comes with a price and goes hand-in-hand with one of the greatest gifts I've ever experienced.

In those 300 seconds or so, I'm also likely to exude warmth, humor, intensity, generosity, and joy.

I'm being me, and every bit of me, out in the open for the first time in my life.

“Sleep my little baby-oh
Sleep until you waken
When you wake you'll see the world
If I'm not mistaken...

Kiss a lover
Dance a measure,
Find your name
And buried treasure...

Face your life
Its pain,
Its pleasure,
Leave no path untaken.”- Neil Gaiman

This is genius and true

https://ooomf.com/blog/the-1-trick-i-use-to-build-every-habit/

A note note on not knowing

A lot has happened in the past three months. I finished up my 500th mile of the year. It became a new year, and I watched my friends, family and beloved colleagues embrace that new time and the change coming with it. I made the following New Years Resolutions:

1) To run 1000 miles this year.

2) To become a competitive dancer.

3) To root into life callings, and the relationships that spring from them.

To say the least about where my commitment to these resolutions has taken me so far, I've never been so exhausted, and I've never been so full of joy.

I may not be as active on the blog as I would like to be this year, but I will try to maintain a presence.

In doing so, I hope to catalog and chronicle whatever transformations I feel are imminent in my life. I hope to challenge myself with harder questions than ever before, and to write with more authenticity than I have dared to in the past.

I want you to know that I have never been so scared of losing myself and finding myself at the same time. And I want you to know I feel blessed beyond belief to have this time in my life to sink into to that uncertainty.

If.

Yes, except...

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2012/11/21-non-spiritual-things-that-make-us-happy/

...all these things are totally spiritual to me.

Happy 2014!