Anticipating Summer’s End

Can you feel it?

The air shifts as the light of the morning sun softens to a honey-yellow, the early temperatures hinting at a release from the grips of summer’s stifling embrace. The seasons are changing once again; autumn is on its way.

In Gaelic tradition this shift is commemorated by the holiday Lughnasadh; in Christianity, Lammas Day; in astrology, the Lion’s Gate portal. Regardless of what we name it, this period of time is sacred, inviting change, anticipating something different from our current reality.

As with each shift and transition in life, it is during these days I feel drawn to look inward, to reflect on where I’ve been and where I’m going. I am not the person I was at the year’s inception, nor will I likely be the same at the year’s end as I am today. I am ever-evolving, stretching upward, yearning to grow.

I look to my inner child as a guide: What do you need to feel safe? How can I best provide for you? These seemingly simple questions have been the cause of much agony, forcing me to face my insecurities and past traumas in attempt to heal, to move on. Just when I think I’m “over” an issue, I find myself in the darkness once again, peeling back even more layers of myself that are asking to be seen, to be acknowledged, to be let go.

In the garden of my soul I uproot only what is needed to make room for what is to come, yet the uprooting process is excruciating. Still I tend to it, knowing that in due time my work will bear fruit.

I find this inner journey manifesting itself in external ways as well: the purging of my closet, the washing of windows; cleaning house to make room for the next chapter, whatever that may entail. Change is coming; can you feel it?

2016 Reading Challenge

If you know me well, you know I love to read. That’s why when I found out about the Goodreads app, I was all over it. One of its features is the ability to set annual challenges for yourself to read a certain number of books. While I wouldn’t say I read large amounts at a time, I do try to be consistent in taking time to read regularly. This year I resolved to read 15 books. Here is some of what I’ve read so far:

The Opposite of Loneliness: Essays and Stories
A collection of writings by a woman who died young, it was both thought-provoking and entertaining. Since the essays and stories were relatively short, it made for a quick, easy read. Sometimes I would have to pause at the end of a story to process what I had just read, and I pondered with awe how this girl came up with so many creative ideas and put them onto paper so beautifully.

Released from Shame: Moving Beyond the Pain of the Past
I bought this book for under a dollar, and I loved it. Right now I’m going through a phase of being fascinated by nonfiction that focuses on psychology, emotional health, personal growth, etc. This definitely beckons you to face the darkness of your past, or it teaches you how to better relate to those who have had a challenging past. While full of sadness, it also offers hope and healing to weary souls.

Women Who Run with the Wolves
This one took me months to read. I started it sometime last year and didn’t finish it until just a couple months ago. But I mean that in a good way. This was a long, dense, but amazing read. It explores ancient folklore and reveals psychological lessons we can learn from various stories. Written primarily for a female audience, it challenges women to embrace their femininity to the fullest. If you decide to read this book, take your time and savor it. Don’t pressure yourself to rush through it or it may become overwhelming.

Sunny Side Up
I guess this is technically a graphic novel. I haven’t read much in this genre, but I really enjoyed it. I was able to breeze through it in a day, and it provided somewhat of a mental break after the other longer books I had been reading. I actually was able to get a galley free from a library sale. Set in the ’70s, the story follows a girl who travels to Florida for summer vacation. It was seemingly light-hearted at first, but I soon realized it included a more somber twist. Thought-provoking, yet tender as well.

Dreamtreaders
The first book in the Dreamtreaders’ series, this adventure novel explores the world beyond waking reality. It brings the dream world to life in a way I hadn’t thought about before. This was a great book to read before my bedtime to help me wind down at the end of the day. It was exciting and fun, and I can’t wait to read the next book in the series.

Blue Like Jazz: Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality
Spirituality is another subject I love reading about. The author is irreverent but genuine, and he brings up some excellent points and questions about the Christian faith. The book follows his journey between his fundamentalist Christian upbringing and his explorations of less conservative, more “worldly” lifestyles. The author’s relatability and honesty about his doubts makes the Christian faith seem less intimidating. An enjoyable read that made me think.

I have other books that I’m reading or have read, but the above list is a handful of the ones that have really stuck with me. Share in the comments what you’re reading this year!

Stir-fry and Sunshine

Summer 2013

The great thing about working in a farm market is that I get to meet a lot of interesting people. We get all sorts of customers – old, young, travelers, locals, people whose accents I struggle to understand.

The other day there came in a woman with her son, who was probably about 12 or 13 years old. But let me say, he was one of the most respectful and sociable 12 or 13 year old boys I’ve met. He took the lead in picking out peppers and squash, and he told me about the stir-fry he was planning to make for dinner that night before he going to a scouts meeting.

I almost thought he was home-schooled because of the ease with which he interacted with me as well as the other adults in the market (I mean that as a compliment; sometimes home-schoolers are known for interacting well with adults). But then I realized he wore a shirt bearing the name of the local school.

I meet a lot of different customers, but that young boy made my day. Lord bless him and the beautiful mother raising him.

The Irish Harp

Summer 2012

It was my dream to play a harp in Ireland. I had spent years learning how to play the Irish harp, but only in America. Now that I was in Ireland, I thought it would be fun to play a “real” Irish harp. To my surprise, it was more difficult to find a harp to play than I thought it would be. I explored the streets of Dublin, but I never found the harp store. I visited a music store in Limerick, but all they had were ornamental harps, having no more than 4-10 strings. I became discouraged, but I did not give up hope. I knew I would have one more chance to find a harp during the evening of music at Newport.

When we arrived at the school house which held the event, I stepped inside and eagerly scanned the room. I saw a multitude of children playing violins, accordions, whistles, and drums. Then it caught my eye. Standing off-center in the midst of the children’s ensemble was the instrument I had been looking for: the Irish harp. My body shook, partly from the chilly air and partly out of excitement. I desperately hoped for an opportunity to play before the night ended, but I was nervous too. What would everyone think of me, an American, playing Irish music on an Irish instrument? I hoped that I would do it justice.

When my name was called and I was asked if I wanted to play the harp, I nodded eagerly. Rising from my seat, I stepped toward the front of the room, where the harper from the ensemble set the instrument next to an empty chair. I sat down to get familiar with the harp while Denis Carey introduced the piece I was about to play, which was an original composition of his. I am glad he did the talking; I couldn’t have spoken if I wanted to, my voice being scratchy from my cold. While he spoke, I ran my fingers over the strings, feeling the sound. The tuning was slightly different from what I was used to, so I decided it would be easier to transpose the piece from its original key to the harp’s current tuning so I wouldn’t have to change it. The harp itself stood probably less than 4 1/2 feet tall –– shorter than my harp back home. It rested just beneath my right shoulder as I stretched my arms over the soundboard, ready to play. In a matter of seconds, the introduction was over; it was time to play.

I began to play the first chords of a sad, sweet farewell tune, and the magic melody resonated off the soundboard, reminding me of my harp back home. My fingers glided over the unfamiliar strings –– rougher than nylon, but smoother than gut –– I’m not sure what they were made of, but I enjoyed their timbre. In those few moments, my nervousness, the cold, and the people listening all disappeared as I became absorbed in playing. In those moments, nothing existed but the music and me. I played a few wrong notes, which I hoped I covered up smoothly enough, but it almost didn’t matter. The harp was playing itself, and I was along for an enchanting ride.

As the notes of the final chord drifted away into the air, the room erupted with applause. I stood, smiling, and began to walk back to my seat. I received several compliments on my playing from people on the way, but there was no greater compliment than the praise from the composer himself, Denis Carey. I hoped he hadn’t noticed the wrong notes I had struck, and he didn’t appear to. His smile was almost as wide as mine as he told me how much he enjoyed my playing.

I sank back into my seat, filled with a joy deeper than words. My dream had come true.

Phones and Fireworks

The temperature was perfect that night, but I had forgotten how cool it was with so many bodies pressed up against me. There really is no such thing as personal space in a crowd. How anyone was enjoying themselves and the loud music, I have no idea.

The scene I mentioned above was not of a club, but of downtown Nashville on the 4th of July. Some friends and I braved the thousands of bodies to get a good view of the fireworks show. One person in our group said, “I would love to get on that rooftop over there,” and he indicated a bar nearby with a rooftop patio, where the crowd was less dense. I readily agreed, and we snaked our way to the door, where we had to wait in line.

Somehow we managed to get in, and finally I felt like I could shift my weight comfortably without the fear of being accused of copping a feel of whoever was closest to me. It was still crowded on the roof, but much less stressful.

Eventually the orchestra played their first notes, and sparks flew into the air. Right in the middle of our view was a pole flying the American flag, which was really neat, because, America! (or as the more obnoxious people put it, U S A! U S A!)

I couldn’t help smiling in excitement at the colorful explosions that showered us with ash and drowned out almost any other sound. As I enjoyed the display, I noticed people pulling out their phones and taking pictures of both the fireworks and the flag. It saddened me a little, as I saw the phone of the man in front of me, because the pictures it took were dark and grainy, nothing like the grandeur of the real thing.

I wondered, why are people diminishing this experience by viewing it through a camera lens? Surely the technology with which they are capturing this moment doesn’t compare to being able to see it with their own eyes?

I get that people want a token of that memory, something to look back on, something to show their friends. But in my opinion, sometimes people are so caught up in capturing a memory that they forget to create a memory. So what if you can’t show a grainy picture to your friends later? You still had the experience, and can relish the memory. And sometimes memories that you can’t share with people are more special than the ones you can.

I’m not against taking pictures – I take pictures. But many times I would rather just get lost in the moment, and enjoy the here and now before it slips away.

Summer Adventures: Don’t Drown!

I didn’t think of myself as much of a control freak until I stepped into water.

Yes, it’s true. I didn’t learn how to swim when I was younger. And people are shocked when I tell them that. But I decided it was time to change that. It was time I learn how to prolong my life for another five minutes in case I was stuck in deep water, since that’s a pretty useful skill.

I went to my friends’ house a couple times, where I learned in their four-foot deep pool how to doggy paddle and float on my back.

And it was awesome.

The hardest part for me was being able to relax. I felt a need to keep my head completely above water and my feet on the ground; otherwise I felt like I lost control. But when you’re swimming you have to give up control. You have to trust the water to carry your body, and you have to trust yourself to stay afloat.

My friend Joanie told me repeatedly, “You need to relax. Once you can relax, everything will become so much easier.” And it did. And it felt amazing. Yes, I felt out of control. But being able to accept that I wasn’t in complete control helped me to enjoy the experience more. Now I can’t wait to get back in the pool and learn more!

Relax. Enjoy life.

Summer Adventures: Zip Lining

I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this many bruises on my legs, but it was worth it.

Recently I went zip-lining with some new friends made this summer, and it was awesome. That combined with the rock wall, vertical playpen, and flying squirrel swing was enough to get me pretty beaten up, but it was a great workout and a great rush of adrenaline.

One of the things I loved about an activity course like that was the people who helped me through it. I’m talking mainly about the workers who held the end of the rope so I wouldn’t fall while I was climbing. And the people who encouraged me to make it to the top of the wall/course. Sometimes all it took was a single person telling me, “You can do it!” to motivate me (or maybe even, “I bet you can’t do it!” in which case I was determined to prove them wrong). Something about encouragement while climbing is more instantly gratifying to me than in other situations.

Of course, there was nothing like concluding the day with my final ride on the zip line. I was tired, I was sweaty, and I got to just sit back and relax as I flew through the air.

Summer Adventures: Hiking

Trees are good at keeping secrets. The ones in this forest have years of experience, and years of memories, especially the ones with carvings of people’s initials to mark a special sweetheart spot.

Well, my friend and I aren’t sweethearts, but suffice it to say we are more or less co-adventurers for the summer. She and I went hiking in the Brandywine Creek State Park, where the woods provided a private haven and time stood still. We walked along about a 2-mile long trail, which wound up, down, around, and everywhere through the woods. Rocky, muddy, hilly, smooth. The trail led us next to the creek, where we stopped to eat a picnic lunch. We sat on a huge boulder on the water’s edge, shaded by a canopy of leaves. For a long time we sat in silence, allowing the current of the water to carry our minds away from everyday life.

Something about the shelter of the trees made it feel okay to talk about whatever we wanted. Okay, so maybe we didn’t solve the world’s problems, but we did talk about why we enjoyed certain books. And we talked about various happenings at a faraway place called school. And we talked about things that confuse us about life, things that make us happy, and things that hurt. Things that maybe we don’t talk about on a daily basis, but things that make an adventure all the more memorable.

And then of course after the hike we ate ice cream, because what adventure is complete without ice cream?

Summer Adventures: City Boardwalk

I didn’t know water could dance until I went to Atlantic City. The Pier Mall has a water fountain that leaps and lights up to music – a show that lasts not even 10 minutes but it runs every hour. And it’s free.

(image from nj.com)

A lot of times my most favorite adventures involve free stuff. I loved walking along the boardwalk that night – watching a light show, talking to strangers, and stepping out onto the beach to howl at the moon shining down on the water. Because sometimes the adventures that don’t cost a lot of money can be the richest experiences of all.

Summer Storage

I get home from school and BAM. My bedroom is now a storage room because we’re renovating the house. I’m cool with that, but it makes me want to get rid of more stuff.

Yup. It’s time for a bit of summer cleaning. I was so proud of myself for being able to fit almost everything from college into 2 boxes, 2 suitcases, and a book bag. Exceptions would be items like a printer and a trash can. For the most part, I thought I’d condensed everything pretty well.

I follow a blog made by these two guys who call themselves The Minimalists. The title pretty much says it all, and I’m inspired to live more simply because of their minimalistic lifestyle.

I’m the kind of person who would love to pack up everything and be able to go anywhere, anytime. I don’t like to be bogged down with stuff. It wears me out.

So it’s time to clean out this summer storage room. I hope my Dad isn’t reading this because he’ll probably want me to start cleaning the basement and the garage as well.

Oh, hi Dad.