Our Well Is Full | Our Roots Are Deep

We dedicated Marin last night, surrounded by many people, family and friends. The evening began with chili and soup, the breaking of bread and cornbread muffins, wine and beer. The sound of little children and adults filled the home and the chaos seemed fitting. We talked about what Marin's name means, "Little Queen of the Sea." Words were spoken over her life of "strength" and "authority." We ate good food, drank good wine, and managed to have Marin asleep in bed only a hour and half later than usual. 

Sometimes it hits me that our little baby will be an adult someday with her own hopes and dreams. She will fall in love. She may get her heartbroken once or twice. She will figure out her path one trial and triumph at a time. I already see so much of myself in her, which is thrilling and terrifying all at the same time. The words spoken over her last night are very similar to the ones that have been spoken over me, time and time again. As long as she grows up knowing and loving Jesus and the church, her strength and spunk will be directed in the right places. 

I made some poor decisions in my college days and I know many people tend to rebel at some point in their life. I just want to protect and guide her forever but also allow her to make her own decisions and learn through the seasons of life. I guess that's what parenting is supposed to look like in some ways, right?

It's so weird to think of her out in the world. Driving a car, heading off to college, dating boys, and working at a job. It seems so far off but I know it's really not. By that point, I will be around 46 years old. That's a strange thing to think about. What will be we be doing with our lives? Where will we be living? How many kids will we have? What dreams will have died and which will have survived all of those years of living? 

Such a strange thing to wrap my mind around. You only get just one life. It seems so small and fast in the grand scheme of things. The insatiable need to make it worthwhile and full of life is needed. I want to live a full, full life. I don't want to look back and see that I worked too much, lived too little, and didn't help my kids discover who they are and what they are meant for. 

Even as I journey through this year of "LESS," I still want to make sure that my well is full and my roots are deep. I only get to live this year once. I better make it worthwhile. I don't want to miss a single thing. 

Reunions & Reminiscing

The oldest photo I could find close to high school. Summer '04. I only went to school with 2 girls pictured here. 

My ten year high school reunion was last night. I didn't go. I stayed home, still in the yoga pants I had worn all day around the house, and I cared for my child. Later I made a delicious, new, paleo meal and hung out with my husband. That's how I needed yesterday to be. The baby had been fussy most of the day, I had accomplished some things (I finished editing the wedding) and didn't accomplish others. As I sit and write this, I am surrounded by piles of our things that I either need to sell, donate, or throw away.

I kept thinking though about high school and about all that has occurred in the last TEN years. Ten years. How did that happen? In the past ten years I painstakingly made my way to graduation, went to a satellite Bible college taught at my own church, didn't sign a record deal, went to actual Bible college, saw so many bands come and go, wrote a few records, made a few mistakes, felt the ocean on my face, saw a lot of good concerts, fell in what I thought was love at the time and had my heart broken twice, graduated from college, moved back home. In the past ten years I made it back to Colorado, days later met the love of my life, starting working at my grown up job that I still am at, got married, bought a house, played more music, took some photos, and had a baby.

Goodness. That's a lot of living in ten years of life and I am totally fine with the realization. Honestly, I didn't want to go to my high school reunion. High school for me was simply a launching pad into the life I live now. I went to my classes, got decent grades, went to work, and then went and played music late into the night. I really wasn't all there. I was everywhere else that I needed and wanted to be.

Would it have been cool to see people? Sure. I probably only communicate with about 3 people from high school and most of my close friends went to the high school across town. I just didn't want to deal with yesterday, if I'm being honest. My jeans don't fit the way I want, I would have to try and remember all of the faces, I would leave my kid and my husband for an evening to take a trip down memory lane that I don't really need.

The only thing I need today is what I already have: the realization that I have truly lived the past ten years. That's the only reminiscing I really need today.

Nostalgia & Thank Yous

Nostalgia usually begins to set in around this time of year, deep into my bones, always present and always waiting. So many of moments from my past sneak their way in to my life, my dreams, my thoughts. In the past, a lot has happened in the month of May. I have become the person I am today in the month of May. I have lost much and gained much in the month of May.

Nearly 6 years ago (six years!!!), I wrote these words on a now forgotten blog...

I am traveling in between two separate worlds, two worlds that hold pieces of my heart, mind, and soul. My body only rests in the in between of my past 3 years and my very beginning, which now is my soon to be my future once again. Every line on the road takes me further away from the northwest. I am a wash of emotions, some of sadness, some of joy, some of wishing I had more time, yet some of knowing I’m listening to the will of God and going where I need to go, at least for this season. Everything within me wants to turn back, to go back to my life in Longview, to the teary-eyed friends I left in the parking lot a short 24 hours. 

For as long as I shall live, I will never forget the last day I had in Longview. That town built me up, tore me down, and somehow directed me home to the new life that I was supposed to have, even though I fought that for quite a while. The last day will forever be cemented in my soul. I can still feel the ocean mist on my face, the salt inhabiting the curls in my hair. Everything was damp but no one seemed to mind. We were together. We were hopeful, yet we were sad. We knew that, whether we liked it or not, my era in that small town was coming to an end and I would never be the same. Aside from my husband, the friendships I had back in the northwest are ones that I feel cannot be replaced or replicated. There is something so intense and special about it. It’s not meant to be repeated. 

My dear friend couldn’t have said it any better: 

It was a simpler time, I laugh because I find myself saying that too often lately. Though, I'm starting to believe "simpler times" really only manifest themselves in hindsight. Either way, in hindsight or in reality,life was simpler then. It was before the reality of life had really set in, before any of my major mistakes were made and before I had any understanding of the consequences that those mistakes brought. The pressures of getting a degree, finding a career, settling down, what have you, didn't seem so daunting or at least not as imminent, and music was solely art. Back then we were all far more concerned with when the next show would be, or when our favorite indie artists would release their next record. We all had our own set of dreams, and strangely enough, we all seemed to end up in far different areas than where we were dreaming of at the time. I guess that's how it always works though. It was a time period which saw moments of triumph, defeat, joy, pain,surprise, disappointment, exciting hello's and some heartbreaking goodbye's. It was back when, to my recollection, none of us had ever heard of a flight that occurred at any sort of decent hour. Any time spent at the airport usually resulted in an all-nighter, or at very least, struggling to stay awake in the pew the next day. It was a time period where somehow, church, a trip to ikea, Cap'n Yoby's halibut, and a Fat Tire could cure a day which saw the death of a family member, and even the mightiest fall. It was a time that worked wonders for me as a musician, but not as much can probably be said for my lungs.  I’m an olfactory memory type though, so I guess it just adds another dimension to the memory.  I was one of the the uncool kids that didn't smoke (and on top of that I wore baggy jeans), but I'm pretty sure the second hand smoke got to me at some point. The apartment that we all spent so much time hanging out in, in so many ways seemed to change us from just friends to family. We had each others backs, but when we fought, we fought like siblings it seemed. It was an amazing couple years, but like any season, it wouldn't last forever, but he simple quote of "change is good" keeps resounding in my head tonight.

The day I left was a tough one. It seems too far away to me now and I feel the need around this time of year to hold onto it tight, to not let it go. The years between then and now are becoming longer. The tears I cried in my car as I drove away from my friends in the parking lot feel distant to me now but I still want to remember them, to feel their warmth on my cheeks. Now my life is consumed by an office job, being a mom, being a wife. I live a life of deadlines, diapers, and trying to fit back into my jeans. I don’t take any of those lightly, but sometimes I look back to remember where we all came from, those fateful days full of rain and creating. Those sleepless nights, not due to having an infant in the house, but because we wanted to create some art that was worth something or at least meant something to us. We awoke every day just to keep going. 

Little did I know that I would meet my husband a few days later. But, that’s a whole other ramble and blessing within itself. 

So, if you were there all those years ago, thank you. Change is good, change is hard. But, I think we all find ourselves in good places even now, far away from the years before, far away from the ocean shore and the late nights. 

Just, thank you. 

Seattle Bound: Day 1

We are bound for the northwest. We are bound for the very place in which I discovered who I was and the place I am to hold in this world. Many days were spent learning, loosing, and learning how to love my surroundings and the people that inhabited them.

Currently we drive through Wyoming; a barren stretch of wind forsaken land and little gas stations that are just simple little dots on a map. As we get further and further away from Fort Collins, I am a swell of emotions. Much of my mind is directed back to my to do lists back home, all of my work responsibilities that will quickly show themselves the second my suitcase hits our doorstep at home. Every mile marker is an omen of the fact that I can let go of all of those things for ten days; ten glorious days.

When you travel, you have a destination in mind. Yet, part of the journey is letting go of your everyday with every mile and just allowing yourself to live and take in all of your surroundings. That is my goal for this trip. Life has taken us on a wild ride in these past few weeks. I had a medical scare that reared its ugly head into our lives. My beloved neon completely broke down and now Firestone has just given a hefty amount of money to get the poor little thing working again. Work has been crazy, each of us logging too many hours.

But, here I sit facing vacation. Finally. It felt like this day would never come and that I would constantly be glued to my office chair staring at spreadsheets and dealing with employees; that the dishes would continue to pile up and the laundry basket would just continue to overthrow.

This is a swift journey now into my past, which always has its own worries and surprises with it. I welcome the stretching. I ached through that long gone season of my life and now that I dwell on the other side, I find that I have a much greater appreciation for all of the breaking and learning. Truthfully, I wouldn’t be sitting in a car with the amazing man I love, if I hadn’t gone through that season. Those seasons are the ones that shape us, even through the hurt and poor decision making. That season birthed in me so many things I didn’t even know existed.

So, without further adue, Hello Wyoming. As much as I’m surprised to say this, it’s good to see you.