Alleyways seem so dramatic; in a city that manifests the essence of hustle and bustle, such a space seems so curious... It's narrow and lingering, unknown, hidden from everything. They're by themselves. A little menacing yes, but the thought of it, to me, is a nice break from the boisterousness of this piece of earth. A place of solitude maybe? No. A place of quietness paired with harrowing suspense is more truthful. The contrast and harmony between restlessness and then stillness within the same context is really what I'm trying to get at! That. That is what I enjoy.

I passed by several alleyways this weekend as I ventured to the city of Richmond.

Conversations danced around: the transitions of life, & the worthiness of our pursuits

While we ate: gyros and fried oreos

Having: tea on hand as we thrifted good finds

Enjoying: street art and deserted train stations

Ryan rehashed what words of wisdom he shared with another and recalled it to me, saying, "You might think it's a step backwards, but it's not. It never could be, it's only a step forward from where you are. You're learning..."

I am learning to adjourn from life a little. Sometimes interruptions are necessary to become more present don't you think?

"cherish your solitude. take trains by yourself

to places you have never been. sleep out alone

under the stars. learn how to drive a stick shift.

go so far away that you stop being afraid of not

coming back. say no when you don't want to do

something. say yes if your instincts are strong, even

if everyone around you disagrees, decide whether

you want to be like or admired. decide if fitting in

is more important than finding out what you're doing here.

believe in kissing." | eve ensler

what good comes from failure

A beautiful essayist by the name of Brian Doyle described writing as a form of contemplation and a form of prayer. These words, taken from the tip of my tongue, couldn't be any more true. For me, at least. It helps me unburden myself. It's a house whose walls are made of words, of which, I feel a certain privacy to them, and then it is also a way of announcing to the world (a small world yes, but my world anyhow). It's my retreat, my wilderness, where my imaginations and my thoughts are free to run wild without the feeling that someone may not enjoy them as much as I do.

Nevertheless, it's becoming extremely important for me to write,

and more importantly, to chronicle my thoughts. Indulge me as I chronicle my stories, and what happens thereafter, will you?...

This past weekend my friends and I went to see this gift of a musician, David Bazan. It was such a good show with such good people, where the evening was filled with honest music and good conversations, where listening, if it was ever a chore for you, became something more of a pleasure and a rest. It was beautiful, a kiss of blessing I'd been needing, complete with a sweet pause, framed by these rich rich rich words: stability is a myth.

From there, whatever might have followed after, my mind couldn't stop tossing these four simple words. And even in the middle of the set, when an open forum was made out of a five minute break between songs, the conversation between audience and beloved artist echoed again those four words.

One question that was thrown out was, "Do you have any regrets within your career as a musician?" Such a weighty question that pulled and gathered much anticipation over his response. We wanted to know his journey, to be told that this gig is hard shit, but it's worth the labor. We wanted to be told that what desires, coupled with what is hard, is what gives the greatest satisfaction. Or maybe, quite possibly, what desires that are pursued wholeheartedly is what gives the greatest satisfaction, irrelevant of what hardships might come.

True. Stability, such is a myth. No life is safe from sorrow nor trial, or pain. And as a result of a year of being in a relationship, and it coming to an end, I'm understanding this a little more. (yes. I said it. and i'm making it public. I am no longer in a relationship. oh twenty-two years of always understanding a little more than just before, but never will I ever arrive at Understanding. Making sense of what is is a mystery unveiling ). I've been grieving, yes, and then I've been beholding some crazy silver line of a revelation. One that is completely freeing.

As a resolution to this failed relationship*, I am allowing myself one year to fail.

You heard me. I'm taking one year to fail. To fail miserably- of putting into action what dreams and concepts and ideals I've piled up for myself. I'm giving myself one year to be brave. There is much to be had in this world, and I want to be apart of it.

A muslim poet wrote, "Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground." I heard a sermon once on the posture of worship that parrots this verse and leads me in a chorus. The man described worship as bowing low, kissing the dust, returning to the place from which we came from, dust. Because that place is where the origin of our intention was knit together. This is my exploit: returning to my origin as I let the beauty I love be what I do. This will be me, bowing low, and leading a life that no longer suppresses the woman I was made to be. No more suppressing my secret desires and dreams. No more. And if it takes a year to fail, then failing I will.

So as a start, I'm going on this journey of religiously chronicling and blogging every story that comes my way, most especially my failures, because friends, I'm living one hell of an adventure. Here's to vulnerability and confession! Here's to practicing a kind of honesty I hardly practice for fear of being found out!

Join me, please! And pray for me too! hahah I am walking into a season of experiential knowing. And I will be living to tell of it. Believe you me. It will be a long-winded, if not unending, thrill of experientially knowing the goodness and wildness of my God, who orchestrates and orders every chaos into a heap of ashes from which beauty is surely to sprout from. How does a good God do that?!

Jesus, hold me to this.

*I want to clarify: I wouldn't qualify my past relationship as a failure. It's been a thing of grace and mercy. I have been allowed to see more clearly where I am, and where I'm supposed to be, and likewise, he too sees this for himself incaseyouwerewondering

ps. Friends, logistically, I realize I've been a bit obscure as to how this year will pan out. And that's half the fun really. Details on the plans I'm scheming will be disclosed in up-coming posts!

please press play.

"the new day dawns

and i am practicing my purpose once again

it is fresh and it is fruitful if i win but if i lose

oh i don't know

i will be tired but i will turn and i will go

only guessing 'til i get there then i'll know

oh i will know

all the children walking home past the factories

could see the light that's shining in my window as i write this song to you

all the cars running fast along the interstate

can feel the love that radiates

illuminating what i know is true

all will be well

even after all the promises you've broken to yourself

all will be well

you can ask me how but only time will tell

...keep it up and don't give up

and chase your dreams and you will find

all in time"

-All Will Be Well | Gabe Dixon Band

I woke up before the sun this morning and biked through gusts of wind and cold for almost an hour, inviting the Father of Lights to come shine on little me. Oh Amen and Amen, come closer still.

I decidedly took this bike ride for more reasons besides my inability to sleep in past six o'clock a.m. this morning. (and this may turn into a ritual. because yes, it was so good for my soul. my red stinging ears might tell you otherwise, but that is why ear muffs maybe on my shopping list this month)

Two days ago I found my head drawn into the toilet seat, mouth hanging open, throwing up chinese take-out my sister and I ate earlier. I don't know whether this may have been a result of a stomach bug, or if it was due to the weight of emotions I was bearing that day, but whatever it was, I felt horrible.

But this morning, despite a hard week, a smile is drawn on my face. gratitude. I feel grateful. Beyond my words, so very thankful. I feel aglow, the Lord is inexplicably good. I feel both a peace and an excitement amidst all the uncertainties of my life presently. And I don't know how, or when, but biking this morning did something to me that released me into that somehow. Maybe it was the fact that everyone was still in slumber when I tip-toed out of my garage, or the fact that I rode streets with absent cars, or the fact I could hear the roar of the wind flickering falling leaves all about. "All creation groans," and there I was joining with it. Maybe it was because while biking, I was "practicing my purpose once again," of simply being and breathing with Him, of coming into myself by leaning into my God. Maybe it was because I felt more present and fully awake to the things the Lord is calling me to. Maybe it was because I was understanding more profoundly the words of Paul when he says, "For this light and momentary affliction, is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison."

An eternal weight of glory. of glory. of wonder, of marvel, of beauty, of all that is good. Don't you love the juxtaposition Paul just used? Light affliction, weight of glory. Today I feel this weight shifting and moving all about in my soul. I have become keenly aware of the Lord's work in me, being transformed in His likeness, learning His ways, seeing more clearly, but still so dimly, His plans for my life.

So here I am, stretching out my open hands for the Good Lord to gift me with raisin cakes of grace. So that this grace can sustain me in the fight to live my life worthy of the One who has called me into His marvelous light. Again, I shall pray, Father of Lights, set Your face to shine upon me.

All will be well

You can ask me how but only time will tell.