I don't think I have genuinely and truly obsessed over something since the start of college.  I mean, I've hit ruts here and there, I've felt pain and struggled through it. But really truly found my self falling into the same dangerous, painful mental cycles over and over and over - it's been a long time since then.  But lately, I find myself there.  I find my mind gets literally stuck, and while I pray, read, recite, read, listen to music and try to force myself to sing along with the lyrics - still, I get stuck. It's a rough patch and probably serving me a good reminder that it is not as simple as I'd come to remember it - "just replace your thoughts."

I think I'm going to tell myself I'm allowed to think those thoughts all I want - that's the science of it right? So I've been told. Telling yourself you can't think those thoughts, makes your mind immediately run off to find those forbidden fields. So yes, brain, mind, you can think them all you want... until 2015.  Then we're done.  Then, we'll be done talking about them.  We can journal them perhaps, maybe sort out final, actual meaningful ends, but besides that, we're done muddying our mental waters.

And with that resolution, I've had another I've been playing around with - deleting Instagram from my phone. I already deleted Facebook from there and find I'm much happier and present already, but I think I could say farewell to Instagram for a month, or maybe a year, and be all the better for it.  I love it.  I love the beautiful shots, and the glimpses into the lives of loved ones, but, I think I'd be a bit more free to just live without them for a little while.  Just be me.  Take in inspiration in intentional handfuls throughout my day when sought, not when my hands nervously find my iPhone and turn me into an insta-zombie, mindlessly scrolling without even realizing what I've done.

I don't like being bad at things.  Maybe you've learned this from (um), any time you've ever hung out with me.  But recently I've had opportunities to be bad at things, or feel bad at things, or be told I'm bad at things - in fact, enough that I feel like I'm starting to lose my mind, and maybe my self. It's the grace of God I think that I also recently gained a life time partner who tells me regularly that I'm capable, talented, effective as he calls it. There are just so bloody many voices out in the world ready to tell you how you should have done something, anything. From making the wreath on your door to selecting your degree - so many voices! And, I think I'm ready for a few less of them.

One of my goals for 2015 is more quiet time.  Rest from the assailment of my own dangerous thoughts and the world full of voices that feed them.

If you're still working on your own new years resolutions here's a great article of 15 Things to Stop Doing in 2015. :)

I'm so happy about Christmas I want to start CRYING.

I'll let you ponder that one on your own.  But despite the obvious - I am just so stinking happy.  Which is crazy, since my family won't be together this year... and more than ever.  But things feel right despite that.  Even though our holiday airfare required an elaborate coordination and calendar this year -- I'm so happy!! I'm happy that we're all darting here and there to be with those we love in unique and exciting new ways.  Kristin flew home from Berkeley yesterday and I got to spend her birthday with her, a fun tradition we got the pleasure of repeating this year.  Jason returned home from Israel on Tuesday, and while in one regard that means little to us here in Seattle, it means everything to my sister Kimberly, which translates to meaning everything to us here as well. (To clarify, his safety back home from an amazing trip means quite a lot to me - but in one regard he is either away, or away from us, so his nearness or farness means less in the day to day - but for Kimberly... ) I can imagine her holiday happiness from across the country and it just ignites mine too! It felt like too much - having one sister return home and a brother-in-law return safely to the states and home to his wifey - it feels like Christmas!  And now, I have one more day of work and a few hours and then John and I get to start packing for our own trip - a flight to Boise for our first married Christmas!  And hours after we hit those long-holiday-security lines, my parents will follow on their own adventure - off to Georgia and then to Christmas with Kim & Jason in their own sweet home!

And that is where I get all teary.  There has been so many exciting things in our family these past couple years - law school, a life-dream trip, home renovations, marriage, Berkeley! All of them have had their trials and troubles at moments, but they are all remarkable feats to look back on and celebrate, and I love the newness of this Christmas.  That is what I am choosing to celebrate this year - the hope of continual newness and the celebration of change.  As the 'tradition' nazi - I am of course also hoping to discover opportunities to cherish all we hold dear and do not want to lose. Little things. Old things. Special things.

I live life a little overwhelmed most days - have for almost two years - but right now, I'm doing my best to just let it all melt into gratefulness and thoughtful appreciation. Which of course - kind of makes me want to cry.

Merry Christmas you guys!!  Celebrate the new - cherish the old! Choose to be okay with things being different than they've always been - it's hope that life isn't locked - it is still being created, day by day. You won't lose what you love, but you will gain more of what you take time to appreciate.

I still need to finish nine books before the end of the year.  Yeah, that's N-I-N-E in the next 22 days. And yes, that means I have finished a total of zero books since last I posted about this.  Gah.  Shut it.  But I have been reading.  In fact I am over half way done with this really dreary novel about a dead woman, that I'd love to be done with, but won't let myself quit.  Partially because I don't quit books.  Mostly because I need NINE more books and I've already invested a week into this thing. We don't have much free time this weekend, but I'm hoping to buckle down and power through this horrible book.

Oh, and while I'm at it, I've also been toiling through Wuthering Heights.  For some reason I was expecting something a bit more like Jane Eyre.  But this book is painful. Combine it with the ghostly novel and I feel there's a draft in the room and far too many dead people making small talk in my subconscious.

Boo!



PS - If you're wondering why I've been silent, please consult the post directly below.  But guess what - I just sent out my second interview team of the week. Boom. :)

I just requested to own another project.  I walked up to my boss and explained that it made more sense for me to run both of our major pursuits right now, because they have the same leadership team, not to mention I ran the first part of this other pursuit and would do well to stay on it.  She asked what projects I could trade to the other coordinator if I took it on. I didn't have one, I'd be wrapping one project up today, the other would wrap up just in time to take on the one I was requesting, and then I'd circle back with the same leadership team for a final two days on the second project. It would be a whirwind couple of weeks, but it would run smoother with one coordinator across both projects. It did make sense actually.  But just as I saw her starting to agree - I realized what I'd just done. Why? Why Katrina? So I'm considering how to clear my weekends again.

Not this weekend, but likely next, I'll be here. And I think I just realized, that is Thanksgiving.  So wooo!  Nice job!

This weekend, I'm sure we'll want to just sleep in, relax, read books.  It's amazing - we've been having those moments lately!  We both teared up one evening when we found ourselves sitting next to each other at the kitchen counter happily working on our own projects. Just simple little things - I was painting my nails. It was sweet and perfect.  A little dream.

I hope we do find time for that this coming weekend, but like last, we'll also no doubt work on getting all moved out of upstairs.  We are so incredibly close!!  Just a handful of furniture to sell, boxes of clothes, extra dishes, mix-matched towels to donate and a lot of electronics. ;) We also have to figure out how to fit a pantry in our tiny new home so we can empty out the cupboards - and the bar.  The bar is a real conundrum.

It has been work.  It would be so much easier to just stay upstairs in the beautiful 3 bedroom apartment with more than enough space for us, granite counter-tops, (A BATHTUB!), fireplace and tons of windows.  Each time I walk in there I hear that in my head, this would be so easy. But we don't really want easy.  We don't want to be owned by our mortgage. We don't want to get used to living off so much more than we need. And we don't need three bedrooms. It's excessive. So while selling our old couches, donating half my wardrobe (actually, more), parting with some good old friends (my sweet shoes), and always having a little space heater running is not easy - it is freeing. It is doing the work now to free us from the stuff that has been drowning and distracting us. It will free us to take risks. And hopefully it will train us in our habits, behaviors, tastes and expectations.

The peptalk to myself being complete, I'm really hoping this is the weekend we are finished with moving out, if not completely finished with moving in. I'm excited about this new season and our new home. I'm excited to find new renters/neighbors to share our home. I'm excited for more evenings at the kitchen counter.

In order to accomplish my book goal for the year, I need to read 9 more.  That is approximately a book every 5 days.  I'm not too sure. But I'm certainly going to try. :)

Last year John and I practiced a little thing called "No-Plans-November."  It felt both painful and amazing.  I don't know why we all feel like we have to say yes to things.  So many things.  But setting an imaginary rule that said we actually had to say "No" to everything was unbelievably freeing.  It was funny how many friends responded "I'm jealous" or "I wish I could do that" when we politely declined their invitations and explained our pact.  My response became, "you can."

We haven't even talked about repeating it this year.  In fact, I don't think either of us realized that November is this weekend.  But then a friend told me they couldn't make a show because they were going to be practicing "No-Plans-November."  And I got jealous.  

I'm sure you're all sick of hearing me complain about how much there is to do and how overwhelmed I am by this and by that.  You're probably thinking "Just wait until... [insert your life standing right now]..."  But for real folks, we are so done.  So very, very done.  We've been feeling past our limits for so very incredibly long.  And I know that's how we grow.  And I know that's how God stretches us.  And I know that's how He increases our capacity. But we're sooo past our capacity. And I think we're learning we need to say No. 

I like that we say yes.  In fact, it's one of my favorite things about John in particular.  And we have so much fun saying yes. We just are realizing that we have to change somehow, something, for this life to be sustainable.  We need rest. We need time to get to have fun and refuel together.  And we need to be able to feel we have accomplished and completed all that we've committed to - that our home is in order, cared for and being well-utilized; that we are being helpful, healthy employees; that we are stewarding our bodies with less stress and more exercise; that we're enjoying life and not going to look back and wonder what happened to our first couple years of marriage; that we have time for our family and close friends when they need us or just miss us; that we can share a meal and take the time to prepare it, rather than ordering take-out because it's already 9:30 by the time we get to think about dinner; that our time and energy are moving us toward our life-goals, and not just around in busy frantic circles. 

What I want to do this fall:  In October (what remains), I want to watch Doctor Who episodes, eat popcorn, drink lots of chai, and read books. I want to watch movies. In November, I want to write thank you cards and drink spiked eggnog while we hide inside our fort we call a house. December, I know fall is over, and I want to try to enjoy time as it goes, try to soak in each moment and make my feet and clothes so heavy with memories that the holidays won't be able to rush as they always do. I want to take time to celebrate our birthdays in January. Plan surprises. Put paper and bows on boxes and write each other birthday cards. And after that, I'll start to get antsy.  I'll start watching for green peaking up from the ground.  I'll monitor temperatures and note every decimal as it goes up.  I'll wear warm cozy socks, hate leaving for work, and return while it's dark again.  I'll still be finishing up my 'Goals list' for the year. And while we hide inside in our warm, safe place, observing and collecting data, we'll be plotting our escape - our next escapade - another adventure - another spring.

That is what I want to do this fall.

I'm married!!

It has been wonderful.  A lot of changes, a lot of adjustments, a whole lot of emotions and a little bit of journaling even.  A lot of wonderful times with my love and now, husband.  A lot of tissue paper and presents.  A lot of laughing.  A lot of sunshine.  A lot of driving.  And now, I find myself back in the office, wiping away a lot of dust that has settled on my keyboard (literally).

Becoming someone else - losing my name - it has been frightening to me at most of the moments.  But right now it feels like a blessing, an opportunity to shed and transform yet again. I hope to make the most of this opportunity to become someone new, even as I carry about my marriage license, proving to office and bureau and agency that I am now someone new. I hope to prove it to myself too - walk into this empty new room and feel peace at all the opportunity.

We almost didn't register for wedding gifts, because we didn't want to buy into the materialism surrounding weddings.  We didn't want to invite guests as an implied exchange for gifts.

In the end, we did register. Because, we can't make it all on our own, and we didn't want our friends and family to feel it was our aim.

And can I just tell you - we are so glad we did.  Planning becomes overwhelming, and you can easily start to feel you are doing a terrible job, especially if you are two perfectionists who really love so many people and hate hurting other's feelings.  A midst those cycles of thoughts, conversations and feelings, we'll often open the door to find some box sitting on the front steps, or the chair next to the door, or right out in the middle of the front walkway like it snuck inside the gate all on its own.  It feels magical.  It feels frivolous.  Gifts just appearing at your door from all sorts of friends who have never bought you a birthday gift or a Christmas present.  And you've never before received a gift "with someone".  But here we are, us two, getting all sorts of fun surprises from all these fun people, like a three-week long scavenger hunt constantly lifting our spirits, making us laugh and dance and celebrate getting married and building a home together, and all the special people we will get to see on that life-altering day.  It's exciting.  I'm so glad we didn't skip this part of the lead-up.  We would be just fine without all the amazing serving trays and copper bar wear.  We'd still get married.  And we'd still have dishes and forks and glasses like we do now.  But this process and lead up - we wouldn't have that - this increasing excitement, ongoing celebration of not just our decision, but our community, we might have missed.  It's such a blessing you guys.

And it isn't only the gifts - last night, our friend Erik brought over his amazing new girlfriend, and they helped us with house chores for an evening and ate pizza and drinks with us around a messy table. This girl I've spoken two twice before, grabbed a paint brush and sat beside me for hours laboring on my new home.

Last week, my life-long best friend Elise picked me up at my house at 5something AM, with a homemade latte and drove me to the floral shop, where I wandered and strove to make decisions for hours.  She then dropped me off at work and invited herself back over to the house to help in a few more nights.  She helped cut runners, make decisions, sort through the missing details, and encourage me.

Two mornings ago I had a voicemail.  Aunt Linda, my neighbor for the past 20 some years, my elementary teacher at times, one of my best friend's mom's, eventually one of my friends had just called to tell me how she felt about me, to express her excitement and encouragement, and to let me know she was praying.  "No need to call back."  The voicemail lifted me up that day as I worked through another painful day in the office.

Esther dropped me a beautiful card in the mail that I love! My sisters have both written cards, sent emails, texts and calls. Elsa spent a morning with me touring the venue and dreaming about decor.  Her and Ty threw us an amazing party along with my parents, and the whole neighborhood it seemed. My parents painted for hours, unbeknownst to John and I at premarriage.

My mom has come back many times, laboring for hours and hours on our home and yard, running errands trying to get everything ready for the wedding and family visitors.

Today, I feel incredibly blessed by these people. I'm so happy they will be with us on our wedding day. I'm just so blessed by each of their gifts.

Thank you.

8/25

7/25

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley.  Inspired and Sad.  Not sure if there is much more for me to say about this book.  It didn't light me up like Fahrenheit 451 did a few years back,  but it definitely made me uncomfortable.  Primarily, it has me evaluating the role of beauty and truth - which I have always put at the top of every priority.  And Science - which Beau places very high if not at the top, which I've thereby begun to value more and more as well through our conversations and debates. Here, in this futuristic world, they find that beauty and truth are enemies of happiness and comfort.  I can't help but think of Byron and Keats - would they perhaps agree and choose the pursuit all the more for the danger and pain that is implicit and required?  I think perhaps so.

If you have not yet read it, you like classics and books that discuss topics such as above - then yes, read it.  After all, it is a short book. 

I'll be honest, I'm avoiding writing the next part of "our story".  I like it and I'd love to share it.  But I've been thinking so much on conversation lately and working intentionally to improve mine and what I post here is an extension of that - this is part of my contribution to the written conversations happening between us all. And I'm tired of the conversation  - so tired, that I'm willing to bite my tongue about John and I's story for a bit longer.

Instead, I'll tell you this.  There's seasons of life where you feel under water.  Not like you're drowning, just like all your movements are fluid and slow, not quiet obstructed but resisted.  You see the other end of the pool and you'd like to get there, but walking feels ridiculous, nearly humorous.  And so you dive under water to swim, but then you can't see where you're going, it's either pitch black or blurry shapes at best - you have to just point yourself in the right direction and hope to get there - bumping into all sorts of people and weird objects that have sunk along your way.  And if you're lucky, you'll get there.  And your shorts will still be on.

I'm in the pool. And swimming itself seems a bit silly right now, because I don't think getting out of the pool is the point.  And I don't know what "end" of the pool is really the best anyways.  But all my movements are so damn slow. I kind of just want to thrash around like a child, cut my arms along the surface and splash.  See if John will let me climb up on his shoulders and jump off.

It's hard to write when you're in a pool.  

Nebula

She is the center of her own world.  Ruling those around her with quick words, frenzied comments and an unbeatable drive to be first.  To conquer others through the sheer rush of finishing first. She imagines others spinning round her, colliding into the literature she consumes at the core and tosses out into her system as if she were their sun, leaving bright zodiacal light all around to be called dust.  But that dust was once stars.  And those stars are held together only by their own gravity.  They don’t need her to feed them light. In truth, it is her pull that would try to consume them.  Devour them.  Her fire burns the brightest on the surface as her core has already begun to shrink, so soon she’ll collapse and leave nothing more than a black hole. 

6/25

Insurgent by Veronica Roth.  It was okay.  I'm angry about the end.  Maybe talk to me about it again in a few weeks.  I liked Divergent a great deal, Insurgent a little less, and Allegiant the least of them all.  At moments, I found myself annoyed with the characters decisions and inability to learn through THREE books. I didn't gain the same incredible attachment to them as one does in the Hunger Games.  I did tear through each of them fairly quickly, and that says something perhaps.  But again, now that I have finished the series, I would rate them only "okay." 

A Tribute

It's only been a few years since my dad plopped an old 33 on his turn table and we sipped coffees to the melodies of Peter, Paul and Mary.  I fell in love.  That same vinyl spun around and around and around for months.  When I was cleaning.  When I was reading.  Always.  I started treating myself to album after album - though I think my dad had their best from the start.  Last weekend we took my dad's old turntable to Hawthorne Stereo for a diagnosis.  Within the hour we were back at John's, the voice of Karen Carpenter streaming through the living room speakers.  The Carpenters were a feature in both of our childhoods - my parents played "We've Only Just Begun" at their wedding, us girls selected it for the renewal of their vows 25 years later.  John's family danced to their Christmas albums each December.  It seemed only fitting to be our first album on this record player that had now become "ours" - one of the many things we've taken from the lives of our parents.

But the second album?  It had to be Peter, Paul and Mary.  Because while I love the Carpenters, because it is "theirs" - well, Peter, Paul and Mary - they are mine.  And after Saturday, I think perhaps they could be "ours".  Grateful to have the man I do, one who'd fiddle for hours with wires and cords and nobs, just to make voices that have been singing worthwhile words for 50 years, a little clearer.  

The Rolling Stone Encyclopedia of Rock and Roll called Peter, Paul and Mary "the most popular acoustic folk music group of the 1960's." During that decade they produced 11 albums, 5 of which became million sellers. And they scored 12 hit singles, including the classic children's song, "Puff, the Magic Dragon" and "Leaving on a Jet Plane," a ballad written by John Denver. The group brought folk music to a new prominence in the post-McCarthy era, putting songs about politics and morality on the radio amid the syrupy boy-girl love songs that dominated when they began playing together in the early 1960s. 

 Peter Yarrow, Noel Paul Stookey and Mary Travers made their debut in 1961 at the Bitter End in Greenwich Village. On the strength of this performance, they were signed to a recording contract with Warner Brothers. Released in May 1962, their first eponymously titled album included their rendition of Pete Seeger's song, "If I Had a Hammer," a hit that was the first record to bring protest music to a mainstream audience. Eighteen months later their version of "Blowin' in the Wind" became a hit, and the first commercially successful recording of a song written by Bob Dylan.

As their fame grew, Peter, Paul and Mary mixed music with political and social activism. In 1963 the trio marched with the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in Selma, Ala., and Washington, D.C. The three participated in countless demonstrations against the war in Vietnam. And they sang at the 1969 March on Washington, which Mr. Yarrow helped to organize. 

Exhausted by nearly 10 years of nonstop touring and recording, Mr. Yarrow, Mr. Stookey and Ms. Travers disbanded in 1970. But it proved to be only an intermission. They reunited on a part-time basis in 1978, and continued to perform together for decades. They have five Grammy Awards and a handful of gold and platinum albums. Ms. Travers died on Sept. 16, 2009, at 72. 

The New York Times.

5/25

1000 Gifts by Ann Voskamp

READ:  Several friends had recommended this book to me because of Ann's style of writing.  They felt I'd enjoy her poetic flow.  I enjoyed the book, but I must say it wasn't her style that won me.  I found it sometimes too flowery and distracting.  It was hard to follow what she was even talking about at moments, or why she'd gone there.  Over the top almost.  [Funny, since I've heard the same complaint about my own style.] However, her content was all too timely.  Inside the pretty pastel cover that nearly scared me away, wrapped in all that flowery language, is a woman talking about the reality of death and loss, despair and depression, numbness and carrying on. She gave me some answers no one else seemed to be able to - or said what others weren't willing in a time I was desperate for that truth.  When death seems to be always in the back of my mind, if not the forefront, how do I keep living this life?  And why?  Why marry when I'll lose him anyways? How can I hold on to my parents? My sisters?  Why have children when I'll just be abandoning them one day?  I'm plagued.  And I don't want cheap answers or hugs or pats on the back. About 2/3rds in to the book, I think Ann finally started giving me an answer I could accept. I'm still not sure, but I'm willing to give it a try. 

I can't guarantee you'll pick this book up at exactly that right time in your life, nor know how it will affect you as you digest its pink pages. But because it hit me so right (though I admit I took it in doses), I have to mark this one a "read". 

4/25 

The Longest Ride by Nicholas Sparks



READ: I was supposed to be meeting a friend, but I had 35 pages left. Need I tell you I was late?  I finished the final pages and launched into the complete retelling of the tale to John.  Sophia and Luke add a level of suspense and "cuteness".  I can't help but imagine that Sparks needed to write in a couple young good looking parts for the screenplay.  But it's Ira and Ruth who will make me return my library book and buy a copy for my own shelf.  There's is a beautiful story that had me in tears and longing not for some other love, but to be better myself at loving. A sign of a great story.  My only real complaint, and it's really more the thought of an egotistical girl who has yet to write her own book but feels entitled to advise on the books of others:  The book could have ended a chapter or two earlier.  When it comes to fiction, I prefer a few loose ends. 

3/25 

 The Fault in our Stars by John Green. Incredible book. Poorly timed.

2/25

Forgot to post this last week.  

Insurgent by Veronica Roth.

Woa Woa Woa - Are we really only 22 days in to 2014?!  It has felt like so much more time has passed already. I think this year is going to hold a lot, without feeling too busy.

Full without Frenzy, that will be my 2014. I think it could be yours too.


PS - My sister has one more semester to complete before she is a Third Year Law Student.  Hells yeah!!