You’ll Shoot Your Eye Out

I‘ve decided to act like a grownup for Christmas this year. I should have done this long before age 39, but you must understand that I didn’t realize I’ve been acting like a child until some time in the mid morning of today.

When you’re a kid, your parents make holidays- from scratch out of love, and special parent magic. When you leave the house, you transition through stages: holidays with friend’s families, holidays with just friends, one horrible New Years Eve spent alone, several happily solitary Thanksgivings. And you enjoy the freedom, thinking that one year, not long from now, you will begin your own family; you will start your own traditions. You will tap into the parent magic for yourself and start building holidays as a gift to your own children.  Your heart will be made of chocolate and your spouse will know just where (and how) to hang the stockings.

That is, unless you remain (mostly) single and (mostly) childless. If this happens,  you will one day get an email from your boss asking you to work more in December, you may briefly compare yourself to Lucy Eleanor Moderatz from While You Were Sleeping, and then start sobbing in the middle of some house you are cleaning in Bellevue…

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The Frenzied Feast

I find the most age confusion these days when I try to decide on which book to read. A good 8 years has been stolen by busyness, transition and social media. I was not yet 30yrs old when I could last honestly call myself a Reader, and therefore as I approach 40 at a moderate gallop I realize I have missed a few things.

In my teens I was all sensation; horror novels, trashy romance, decadent fantasy mixed with science fiction. In my twenties I turned suddenly quite serious and read gobs of books on spiritual topics, some that would now put me to sleep.

When I should have spent my early thirties steeped in history and biography, instead I moved several times, got married and then divorced and hit refresh on my facebook home page one billion times. It was only recently that I recognized how drastically these occupations atrophied my thought life.

And so I have begun to read books again but it is much like feeding a person who has been starving for years. There must be many broth meals before anything like steak will digest. I imagine at some point the Eater begins to have more mental and emotional hunger for food than her body can support. She finds herself writing elaborate menus that will take her years to fulfill, even while what she actually eats are bizarre little half meals. Homemade banana pudding and soft pretzels for breakfast, pickles and black tea with cream at 10, pot roast and raspberry sherbet for lunch. She institutes a tea time, though she’s American, and she buys short bread and can’t decide between a dark beer or a mug of hot chocolate…

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Splendid Spinsterhood

A year ago I was keenly longing for my own place- a kitchen in which to bake, a living room to invite people into,  wall space to hang my prints.

Three months ago I was making detailed plans for getting an RV to live in so that I could have my own home while still being able to travel.

I’m pretty happy staying in guest rooms and sleeping on couches, but at the same time, I find myself mentally decorating some imaginary home of my own. I spend a little time here and there “shopping” for things like area rugs and arm chairs. My dream house is the coolest thing you’ve never seen.

Maybe I talk about this a lot?

If it seems like I’m repeating myself, it’s probably because I’ve been in this flexible state for the last 4 years- not at all what I expected from life so near to 40. While I’m waiting and waiting to find out where “home” is, I learn more and more deeply how comfortable it can be to be homeless…

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The Wild Quiet

Going for walks in the morning is like stepping into a fairytale as some sick, old creature. The woods are glittery and towering, decorated with a million invisible strands of web, still drenched by the rainstorm from several days ago. Naturally I listen to music while I walk, and this just adds to the beauty and romance of the trail.

I didn’t appreciate Robert Frost’s poetry until I moved to Warm Beach Camp, but walking through the woods every day from my apartment to the bakeshop, I got to know nature in a much more personal way than I ever had before…

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Old Acquaintance

I‘m that lady who alternately weeps and cracks jokes. It looks like insanity, but it is actually exactly how to stay sane.

Today I met a 70yr old version of myself.

Every week, some of our students and one of our staff go next door to an assisted living home to lead a Bible study. Every week, whoever goes comes back with full hearts and good stories. Those people are amazing. Sometimes only of a few of them show up, sometimes more than 5. Sometimes several people leave in the middle. It’s not just a place for old people, it’s for anyone who needs assistance in living, so there are people as young as 18 and one lady who is 97 and many of them are noticeably “different.”

Today the 97yr old woman came (I’ll call her Beth), as well as two other women (I will call them Cindy and Lily). Cindy left early because her bipolar disorder was making it hard for her to sit with a group of people. She apologized profusely, but exited quickly. Lily was the old version of me and she spent part of the time cracking jokes, noticing random things (“Look out that window! There’s a plane that just flew over the peak!”), and the other part of the time, she wept openly….

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Level Up?

Today I advance one year in the age game. I’m not bothered by the number, although since I spend most of my time with people a decade younger, I joke that I’ll be turning 29 again.

The day did not start out so good. I woke up a little after 5 to work out…

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otherwise known as walking to Starbucks. The weather report had predicted snow, but this wasn’t as much snow as tiny shards of sharp ice – all flying at my face, regardless of wind direction. About a block and a half from home I slipped on the ice just in the way you see a person encounter a banana peal in the cartoons. Yes, I did laugh at myself, but I also landed in daintiness square on my right hip. If there were a movie of my life, it should start with that moment. It also may end with a  similar moment in fifty years.

Because I’ve been watching this tv show lately about spies, I actually considered the rest of the walk as a stealth challenge.

For a second.

Then I considered what it could feel like to fall on my throbbing hip again and I decided that studying today is quite enough of a challenge.

No other incidents in the last three hours since The Fall, but I’ll keep you updated. In the mean time I’ll be here with a mocha my roommate bought me and my nose in this commentary on Philippians.

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Errant Errands

I don’t get out much.

Today all of the necessary things came together for me to mail a package and it was amazing. Here are the laborious steps to such a feat: Find a box. Have an address. Have the money on the same day that I have the ability to borrow a friend’s car, on the same day that I have some free minutes during business hours. Today was just such a  magical day.

I told a friend in July that I wanted to send them something specific in the mail. Near the end of August I thought to buy the right box while I was at Target (cheers and high fives!). I already had packing tape because I’m the girl who always forgets about tape when she believes that buying the box at the post office will work fine and now has 3 rolls of packing tape. So the box was ready to be sent sometime in September and today it finally left my possession (high fives and cheers!).

Here’s what else happened. I wanted to check several things off my list, so I brought some photo CDs to send to another friend. I have their address memorized. Check. I had just deposited enough money to send plenty of things. Great. In my minds eye, I felt sure I could buy one of those padded mailers at the post office and THOSE don’t need tape. Good plan….

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The Un-Adult Truth

The house is napping and I am in the basement with the books. It’s a daylight basement, which is really more of a rainlight basement.

Although I grew up in the great Northwet of

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Washington, I have spent just enough time away to gain a nostalgic perspective.
In small towns like Carnation (where I am today) I look outside and immediately remember movies like The Journey of Natty Gann, which then make me think of logging trucks, and big men wearing plaid and big beards.
Or I remember walking  from school like a pencil line connecting the dots of puddles the whole way home….

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Wherever You Go

Great change is required inside me for there to be great change on the outside.

I don’t think that is an exact quote, but I heard something like this on Sunday and it just came back to me as I was sitting here. I had a photo shoot yesterday with some friends and I was here at the computer to edit them.  I also needed to call someone with YWAM in Colorado to tell them that I will not be coming as soon as I had previously estimated, partially because I am broke.

Confused is a good word to describe how I feel. How much detail should I go into here on the internet?
I think, for one, that it fits with my personality to wrestle with decisions, directions and changes. I just do that. Sometimes I wonder if I overdue this part of the process. On the other hand it’s possible that I need the struggle to somehow prepare me for the eventual change….

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Thank you, more please

After a day of busyness and celebration I feel reflective and, out of step with all of the sweetness and joy, I feel a bit sad.

No expectations were disappointed. In fact, I was surprised several times today by gifts, kindness, phone calls, attention. At the dinner table

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tonight there was a distinct family feeling. I asked everyone who knew birthday songs in other languages to sing them. We got Norwegian, Russian, Dutch, Thai, an African language… and… I feel like I’m missing one. I wish I could have recorded this to share with you.

There was a birthday cake, cinnamon rolls, chips… and then at dinner a dear friend, Susie brought me these marshmallow filled brownies!! I love marshmallows!
We went to Starbucks after dinner clean up was over and people bought me coffee, a mug, a gift card…

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