For the last year I helped run the social media accounts for the dessert shop I worked for. And I freaking loved it. Jess gave me a bunch of photography tips he picked up during his hipster photographer phase (thick rimmed glasses, red flannel, black nikon camera, and mason jar used as a water glass). Ah, to be young and hip in the yester-year of 2011. And I got paid to take pictures of delicious cake, Continue reading
Usually by the time I write a blog post about a certain topic, the feeling and energy behind it is no longer raw. Writing completes and smooths over weeks of thoughts, feelings, and unsolved riddles. Writing is in and of itself a solution. Have a problem? Write about it for a while and you’ll find that the act of writing is in and of itself a form of action. By the time you put pen to paper or keyboard clicks to screen you’ve come to place where you can put words to your ideas, and that’s a powerful statement. I know that if I skirt around a certain topic, that I’m not ready to write about it. I’m still wrestling with it. and that’s ok. It’s alright to be a little raw.
I blame cancer for messing up my social life.
Yep, that’s completely rational. I hate that I had to move up my wedding. I hate that I had to move out of my house with my roommates with no time to say goodbye. I hate that I didn’t have the energy to hang out with with anybody for months and months. I planned a girl’s night at the place I was currently staying as an attempt to bring normalcy to a season of turbulence. Then we got the news that she had to stop chemotherapy and it was almost over. The flight was still in the air, and I just wanted to be grounded. I just wanted to land in a place that looked like home.
I still sometimes operate under the false reality that no friend will truly want to let me in, because they’re afraid of my pain. I know I’m not the only one who feels like this sometimes.
I don’t want to pray out loud in small groups. I used to prophesy in front of a hundred people.
I now avoid the medical aisle of the supermarket. I also used to avoid the medical aisle of the supermarket, because I didn’t need anything from that section. So I guess that’s the same, right?
I blame cancer. But the cancer is gone now. And I’m still here. And I have the agency to change. We all do. We can carry our scars like baggage or let them sink into our skin and accept they are woven into our story.
Just when you have collected the pieces and decided you like what you’ve created. It’s time to move again. It’s time to leave. Just when you’ve become comfortable and accepted the ways things are it’s time to move on again. Kicking and screaming. Or like a kid who sticks their head out the window of the U-Haul on a cross country moving trip. You just need some air to breathe. It’s time to get going again. It’s time to start planting seeds and harvest. It’s time to cry and it’s time to laugh.
It’s time to move on.
It’s time to take your broken heart and keep walking.
It’s time to start again.
The past is finished. Jesus died on the cross, and he said it’s finished.
Every once in a while, if I have a really busy shift at work where the line goes out the door for hours on end, I’ll continue to dream that I still need to slice cake the following night. I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and be convinced that I have a whole Belgian chocolate torte in my hands and that there’s a customer waiting for me to deliver it. The only way I can fall back asleep is if I tell myself “We’re closed! The shop is closed!” The shift is finished. The work is done. Now it’s time to rest. It’s finished.
The suffering has, for now, stopped. But life continues on.
Who do you walk through this life through? Who supports you and looks up to you? With people can call you without hesitation? Who will willingly take shoe selfies with you for your “blerrrg” (blog)?
I recently signed myself up for a Whatcom SmartTrips account, which means if I bus, ride, or walk someplace (like work),instead of using a car I can log my miles and be entered for fun prizes. I logged a few days of walking in this sunny sunshine week, and it informed me that over the last month I’ve burned 1,100 calories walking/biking. Which is basically equivalent to how many cake calories I’ve eaten at work, so it works out, you know? Hahaha. It’s crazy to use such a simple tool that tracks the steps, pedals, or bus rides you take and then gives you the larger picture: miles, calories burned, gas money saved.
What if we could see the same larger picture with the people we spend time with? You’ve spent two years as roommates and spent approximately 340 hours belly laughing” or “you were the first to congratulate them in their new job.XP 400.” Obviously a point system with gift card rewards would break down the beauty of friendships and relationships inherent giving and sometimes selfless nature, but it’s a funny idea to think how the small choices we make inevitably effect other people’s lives. More than I want to admit.
Carpooling, walking, and taking the bus are all fundamentally more social than driving solo in your car. When driving by yourself, there is a large metal barrier between you and everyone else. You can barely make out faces of people driving next to you. You talk to no one except yourself, even if you’re yelling at the other cars. Is it anti-social to drive a car by yourself? Or is it just more convenient? Are people inconvenient? Most of the time, they get in the way of a lot of things you would like to accomplish within a timeframe. Especially the chatty ones. Apparently, I can be one of those people if you get to know me well enough and supply enough caffeine.
what about trains, man?
I don’t want to follow a God who grows weary of my chattiness. Who views my feelings and thoughts and time as a waste of, well, time. I read an article the other day about how small talk gets a bad rap because it seems meaningless, when in reality, it can serve as a connecting point between two people even if it’s brief and nothing substantial is talked about. It simply sends the message of: “Hey! I see you as a person and I’m willing to briefly converse to show that I acknowledge we are both individuals with worth (pharasing a lot here). Which gives me hope for the many seemingly insignificant conversations I have when handing over slices of cake to people at work. I asked a lady last week, “Are you celebrating anything today?” And she told me that she was marking the anniversary of the day her son had entered hospice. And my heart broke a little bit. I told her I also had anniversaries like that and she said, “So you understand” and I replied, “As much as I can.” I think that was a God moment (most moments are) because it was a time where small talk turned into an opportunity where two people could say that they understood each other as much as is possible in this life. Wouldn’t our relationships shift dramatically if we were able to understand each other’s experiences and emotions, or at least admit we were trying our best? I wish I could say that was true every time I interact with another human being.
Sometimes you just get tired. Or you try a new exercise routine and don’t drink enough water and end up with a splitting headache (true story). But the moments when you are able to be present and connect with people still matter, and the days when you’re tired or sick or whatever don’t cancel out the days you’re “on top of things.” It’s not a reward system, remember? Nobody is following you or asking you to keep a log. But maybe there are times when it seems like a friendship mastermind has put you in a conversation or time with a person you never expected or could’ve orchestrated, and somehow you are able to say, “Hey! You matter. You have worth.” Be brave and maybe a little caffeinated and try it out.
Got to go. Laundry is done.
Katrina