The Last Crusade

The age old question asked of children is what they want to be when they grow up.

My answer to that question changed a multitude of times over the years....for a very long time I would say Indiana Jones....no , not one of the girls that came in and out of his adventures...no, I wanted to be him. I mean, seriously, he had the life: travel and adventure, that allowed him to walk with an air of unassuming bad-assness.

Now in my world of meetings and appointments and corporate calendars, I wish someone would ask me now what I want to be when I grow up. What would my answer be? Free, I want to be free. Free to live life fully, to have the travel and adventure I long for, to be in control of my time and my future, to pursue things I love, to surround myself with those that mean so much to me and invest in them to the degree I long to. I want to wake up each day with a heart full of passion to embrace the day ahead. But I find that the pressure of a job even if you love it (which I usually do), the burden of financial responsibility and the deadlines that we are held to by the various people in authority in our lives, keep us from knowing true freedom.

So the question remains of how to get there: how do you create a life in which you can experience complete freedom. When the life you lead is the life you desire. I'm not sure yet. But I intend on making it my grown-up goal to find out. And you will know I found it if you see me walking with that unassuming air of bad-assness....

Snow Days

Growing up in Pittsburgh meant growing up with snow. In that part of the world, it was as common as Steelers memorabilia, Heinz ketchup or people referring to groups as 'yinz' (if you are from Pittsburgh, you can appreciate the references). In my youth I loved it because it could mean days off from school, snowball fights, and sled ridding. Yet as I grew older and found that no one gives grown-ups snow days, my feelings towards the cold winter months were not nearly as cheery. And so I moved south to live in what I believed to be the land of constant sunshine and Indian summers. Unfortunately my time in Tennessee has not been nearly as temperate as I would have hoped. Although we certainly don't see much snow and the extreme cold days never hit, it is often just very gray. And I think I've realized how much my heart is impacted by the weather. Cold months force you indoors and my heart is not nearly as happy there. And so I write this entry on what Tennesseans may consider a snow day, meaning there were flurries that fell within the last twenty four hours though they didn't stick, and I am longing for spring. Longing to throw open the windows and feel the sun. To spend Saturdays in a park or on a hike or by a pool. To join friends at restaurant patios for margaritas. To see life growing everywhere around me and to feel fully alive again.

“The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created spring.” ~Bern Williams

You are the Potter

The Bible often uses references of God being the potter and us, the clay. I always thought that was a sweet reference, implying that God makes something beautiful from our empty form. And, as a Christian, it does leave a warm feeling to think that God is shaping us into a beautiful work of art, that we are being sculpted and molded into something that He will stand back and call good. Yet, I have learned recently that this interpretation is only a glimpse into the depth of that text.

I started taking a pottery class several weeks ago and have learned quite a bit about the nature of clay. I have learned that clay is stubborn and difficult to shape. I have learned the intense amount of determination and focus it takes to sculpt a piece of clay. I have learned that in order to have a fighting chance at getting the clay to a pleasing point, you must first prepare it and that each careful step gets you closer to achieving the goal. And sometimes in spite of your best efforts, the clay refuses to comply with the direction that you are trying to take it. And there are moments that, regardless of your effort and focus, you need to just stop what you are doing and begin anew. That process is comprised of removing the class from the wheel, placing it aside and allowing a week for the clay to dry to a point that it is workable again, then you wash over it with a sponge and start again.

Obviously, the sermon illustrations could go on for days....

So now, I laugh at the reference of the Potter and the clay. Although it still reflects God's desire to take our empty form and create a beautiful work of art, it also points out that we are stubborn and sometimes fight the best intentions of the Potter to mold us well. And there are points that we fight so hard that there is nothing to do but take a moment, regroup and allow that cleansing water to pour over us so the Potter's work can begin again.

Lyrics and Life

I heard this Patty Griffin song yesterday and remarked how every girl I know falls into this song somewhere, as if each girl has a line that highlights her. I was always, "all the girls working overtime, telling you everything is fine." And I'm not that girl anymore. Life and heartache and a boyfriend who doesn't let me play the martyr has brought me out of that world. So the question was asked of where I am in that song now...and I'm not sure. I'm in a fairly new place and I think it is a "great for now" sort of place. Though it still feels in the middle...somewhere between where I was to where I want to be, which in all of it's "great for now-ness", can still on some days feel a bit like purgatory. I long for various moments of arriving though I'm not sure how or when those moments will come. So until then, I will try to find myself in these lyrics and in this life.

Be Careful
~Patty Griffin

All the girls in the Paris night
All the girls in the pale moonlight
All the girls with the shopping bags
All the girls with the washing rags
All the girls on the telephone
All the girls standing all alone
All the girls sitting on the wire
One by one fly into the fire

Be careful how you bend me
Be careful where you send me
Careful how you end me
Be careful with me

All the girls standing by your beds
All the girls standing on their heads
All the girls with the broken arms
All the girls with the deadly charms
All the girls in the restaurant
Pretending to be nonchalant
Funny girls on the TV shows
Close your eyes and they turn to snow

Be careful how you bend me
Be careful where you send me
Careful how you end me
Be careful with me

All the girls working overtime
Telling you everything is fine
All the girls in the beauty shops
Girls' tongues catching the raindrops
All the girls that you'll never see
Forever a mystery
All the girls with their secret ways
All the girls who have gone astray

Be careful how you bend me
Be careful where you send me
Careful how you end me
Be careful with me
Be careful how you bend me
Be careful with me

TYPECAST

Definition: 1. cast somebody repeatedly in similar roles: to give an actor a series of parts of the same type, to the extent that the performer becomes associated with that kind of role and is overlooked for others.

I'm a performer. And I'm damn good at it. So much so that most people in my life don't even realize when I am acting. I can convince everyone, including myself, that this character I play is me. And, for the most part, it is. But there are those places in my heart that I am afraid to uncover because I fear that I will no longer be accepted by the watching world.

So if all of the world is a stage, I would say that most of us choose the parts that are safe: they require little of our true self and allow us to act in a role without giving all of our self to it. It requires little investment or vulnerability. Yet, the problem with this safe dance is that it prohibits us from playing our part: the role for which we were created.

And so I am starting this blog to delve into those places in my heart that are genuine and real and are sometimes terrifying, because in vulnerability, there is the risk of rejection or judgement. But in order to play my part and play it well, I must delve into the deep recesses of my heart: the places I have come to fear the most. This is my first step of moving off the stage and into life. And so it begins...