(And At Christmas You Tell the Truth)

The truth is I gave my heart away some time ago. Years have passed and I'm still trying to put all the pieces back together. My wounds have healed but some unanswered questions remain. Maybe they always will. Among other things, I've learned that sometimes you have to live without your ideal form of closure.

Reflecting on the past in an attempt to understand the present and move forward towards the future, I often wonder: What emotions or memories has time blurred? How much of what I remember or think about is based in reality? I know that at 22 I was as hopeful and foolish as a Taylor Swift love song. Desperate to make sense of impending post-college life and feeling completely alone, I clutched at everything I thought would bring me closer to the picture I had in my mind of what my life was supposed to look like. That approach didn't work very well. Happily, I've survived and become a better person for it.

For awhile I was so hurt and confused I didn't know how to get my heart back. To be honest, I don't think I really wanted it back. It was mine to give and I wanted nothing more than to start a life with someone I loved by my side. The dream had become tangible for the first time and yet, it still eluded my grasp.

Last Christmas my little sister got married. This summer my three closest college roommates, including my best friend, said "I do". My brother also tied the knot. Here in Chicago the majority of my friends and coworkers are either married or in serious relationships. It's no exaggeration that I'm often the only "single" person.

Maturity and time have provided me with much needed insight and perspective. I'm surrounded by couples and I can truthfully say I'm genuinely happy for them. Do I wish I had the relationship portion of my life figured out already? Absolutely. Do I want to be married and have a family? More than anything. Am I learning to embrace who I am and the life I'm living? Every day.

The truth is I'm still trying to figure myself and love out. That's ok. Love is actually all around.

Flying

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Humanity is on display at an airport. Tearful goodbyes. Joyous reunions. Nervous explorers. Whatever emotion or scenario you're looking for, you can find it between arrivals and departures.

There's something about the airport and flying that put me in a hyper-reflective state. Maybe it's the long train ride on the L or anticipation for the impending trip. Whatever the reason, I usually become emotional and suddenly develop a strong urge to write.

I think about my relationships with individual people in my life and where they're headed--literally and figuratively. My melancholy mind becomes misty as I recall prior journeys with fondness. Senses are heightened and my memory enhanced.

When I'm up in the air, thousands of feet above ground, life is temporarily suspended. No phone calls can be made or texts sent. My wifi doesn't connect unless I fork over eight dollars. It is a period where I am truly alone with only music or reading materials to keep me company. Inevitably, my thoughts usually take over.

Flying is a chance to get away from the world.

The Pain of Writing

photo by paper pastries

Ernest Hemingway said, "There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." Today we sit in front of computers but Hemingway's sentiment still rings true. The act of writing is fulfilling yet painful.

Between undergrad and grad school, I've spent an infinite number of hours typing stories and papers on my laptop. Afternoons and all-nighters filled with despair, Coca-Cola, and fervency. Fulfilling a writing assignment usually feels as physically and mentally exhausting as running a marathon.

When I have a story deadline, I typically procrastinate because the blank page is a wall that appears too tall to climb. So I sit at the bottom and look up in dismay. Hours before my story is due I begin scaling the wall while the clock steadily dwindles. I need the fever of a deadline to spur me into action.

This dysfunctional writing cycle produces unnecessary pain and stress. Once I finish my story, with only a few minutes to spare, I sit and wonder why I didn't start sooner. Inevitably, the wall is easier to scale once I start climbing. Next time, I tell myself, it'll be different. The process doesn't have to be this way and yet, it's a habit I can't break.

I haven't written on my blog for almost two months because I either haven't felt like I've had anything worthwhile to say or the simple act of writing my feelings/thoughts down has felt too hard. The tricky thing about any creative endeavor is that you only get better with practice. How will I know what I want to say if I don't try?

So this is me, once again, trying to write. Make it hurt so good.

One more day!

One more day and my mom will be here! I'm just a little bit excited that she's coming to Chicago for a visit. I'm taking Thursday afternoon and Friday off work so we can play until Sunday when she heads back home to Utah.

Lately, I've really been missing my family and having a hard time being so far away from everyone. Don't get me wrong, Chicago is great, but sometimes I wish I was just a little bit closer to the ones I love. I need a mom visit. Bad.

While my mom's here we plan on going to her favorite Chicago pie shop, Hoosier Mama, taking a trip up north to the Chicago Botanic Garden, and doing a little crafting. I'm also super excited for her to see my new apartment and get her decorating advice. My loveseat and chair arrived over the weekend and I'm at a complete loss as to how to arrange my place. Mom to the rescue.

Aren't moms the greatest?!

diet coke insomnia

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I really should be sleeping but I have a lot on my mind and I think I drank a little too much diet coke close to bedtime.

Do you ever just feel like a total fraud? Like you're not even good at liking the things you like? Take reading for example. I love to read---books, magazines, newspapers etc. I'm a journalism grad student who doesn't read enough. I get the Wall Street Journal but admit I don't always make it past the headlines and front page. Time magazine comes in my mailbox every week but I don't always get around to reading it. I haven't read a novel in months.

Reading is just one, albeit very small, area I'm feeling inadequate in right now. Bigger ticket items include working out, eating healthy, my spirituality, and managing my finances. The list goes on.

My favorite journalism professor keeps encouraging and urging me to get my pieces published. What good is my work if no one ever sees it? You need clips to have credibility. Working full-time pulls my attention away from being a grad student. Combine that with the fact that my career goals don't necessarily match my journalism studies and the struggle to put forth the extra effort to get my pieces out there increases.

Time is such a precious commodity and yet it is so easy to waste. It's so much easier to consume episode upon episode of Friends in the background and pin things on Pinterest. Those activities require small ounces of engagement in the big picture. The big picture can be a lot to choke down every day.

So how do you balance goals, leisure time, and responsibilities? I don't think there is a solid answer but rather approaches and methods to try out. There are definitely times when I'm better at managing life than others.

Maybe the curse of living during this time is the constant competition for our attention. I keep thinking if I just had one day where I could get organized and find my center then I could change my everyday less than desirable habits. I think I may be wishing for a "day" that doesn't exist. Tomorrow always comes whether I'm ready or not.

Right now I just feel tired and inadequate. Where's the flipping reset button? It's a really, really good thing my mom is coming to visit in a few weeks because I need a hug. Like right now.

stop the glorification of busy

image by A Pair of Pears

True confession time--balancing everything life has to offer is hard. Grad school is hard. Eating healthy and exercising is hard. Keeping my studio apartment clean is hard. Waking up on time is hard. You get the idea.

I detest the glorification of busy that consumes our society. Like somehow busyness equates worth. I used to buy into that idea, in fact I whole-heartedly believed it to be true. Then I had a complete mental, emotional, and physical breakdown my freshman year of college. I've been on the path to rebuilding myself and my expectations ever since.

Lately I've found myself falling victim to the catchall phrase: "I'm so busy..." The combination of grad school staring again and my efforts to be more social have sometimes left me feeling like I'm on a merry-go-round I can't get off.

So what do you do when you feel overwhelmed? It's easy to tell yourself to just suck it up and that other people do so much more than you do--you should be able to handle this. Don't listen to those lies. If you're feeling overwhelmed, acknolwedge those feelings and figure out the different choices you can make so you feel more centered.

For me this past week, those different choices included saying no to an event I wanted to attend so I could get caught up on homework and clean my apartment. I also went to yoga Friday night with a friend.

Too often being "busy" means feeling out of control and frazzled. I want to be actively engaged in my life and the the activities I enjoy. Part of that process is figuring out when to push yourself and say yes and when to allow yourself to say no.

Finding life balance is a life long endeavor. I'd love to know how all of you manage the stresses of life. What do you do when you feel overwhelmed? How do keep yourself from falling into the "busy" trap?

True Love

photo by Lou Lou Photography

My parents met in high school at an early morning church class called seminary. It took awhile for my dad to ask my mom on a date but eventually he did. Not long after their first date my parents knew they were meant to be together.

After high school my dad served a church mission in Texas for two years and my mom went off to BYU. Three months after my dad returned home from his mission they were married in the Seattle temple. A year later they had me. A few years after that my brother came into the picture. A couple more years passed and my little sister was born.

Today my parents celebrated their 27th wedding anniversary. I feel honored and blessed to see first hand the loving, tender relationship my parents share. Both my mom and dad had difficult childhoods. It is truly a miracle that they found each other and were able to create such a loving, wonderful home environment for me and my siblings. 

My parents--that is what true love looks like. Because of their example, I have hope and faith that one day I too can have a strong, enduring marriage. Alone and together, life for my parents has rarely been easy. But no matter the obstacles they've faced individually and as a couple, my parents have always clung to each other and the Lord for support. Neither one of them is perfect, but together my parents continue to beat the odds.

Thank you mom and dad for loving each other so purely and unconditionally. Happy Anniversary!