Then and Now

Yours Truly, Nov. 2006

Yours Truly, Jan. 2015

Those orange glasses, such a risk so many years ago, have remained a steady favorite these eight years.  I still like coffee, and I have short hair again.  Oh, how much changes, and yet doesn't change!

In the enchanting archipelago

coffee moment outdoors, august 2014

A memory from the archives.  Childhood friends together in Finland.  It was a dream-come-true.

32

Today I am 32.  It's only a number, but we mortals like to observe the passage of time, some more meticulously than others.  Thirty-two is one of those ages that marks you as an adult, there's no "young" to go before it, it stands on its own.  But, then I had to disagree with it as I actually scrummaged for its official definition:
"having attained full size and strength; grown up; mature."

If 31 taught me anything--through burn out, heart break, slowing down, changes, deaths, community living, the realities of my own limits--it is that I have much maturing and growing up to do yet.  I do not consider that I failed in 31, but what I mean is, that I experienced things within and without me to a degree that I hadn't before.  I was faced with my own brokenness, fatigue, weakness.

And in the midst of it, I found grace.  The grace to say "no."  The grace to stop, to rest.  To accept the limits of myself and others.  To receive love and care when I didn't feel worthy of it.  Actually, love and care don't come because I am worthy, but because it is the nature of love to give itself, it must give itself.  And I am loved by the Eternal, by my family and by many around me.  It is humbling.

So, as I step into the first day of my 32nd year, I am thankful.  I look forward to moving toward "full size and strength" day by day.  I hope I have the maturity to laugh at myself and not take myself too seriously.  I hope to learn many new things.  I hope the friendship I have developed with "uncomfortableness and unanswered questions" will become a more peaceful one.  I hope the dimensions of my life uncover surprises.  I hope for beauty and delightful conversations.  Sunshine and music.  For a pursuit of God for his sake.  For my sake, too.

Here, crossing the threshold of 32, I rest, with all that I am and am not.  And in that same rest, I want to take steps and risks that open up the path marked for me to tread this year.

A necklace

It seems that life is intent on reminding me of the validity and ubiquitousness of my favorite word: juxtapose (to place side by side, especially for comparison or contrast, fyi).  The sorrows and joys of life are lined up side by side, one dark, one light, followed by another dark one, then perhaps a light one--like beads strung on a necklace.

It seems that there has been a fair share of dark in life recently, as pertains to those around me and their processes.  My aunt has cancer.  A friend has heartbreak.   My own thoughts and energy have been murky.

But on a brighter note, my parents will move back to Finland in two days.  They are returning to a land that has changed much since they lived here, and from a country that is the opposite in weather, temperament and location.  It will not be a painless change, but I trust it will be a good one.

Then, along with this wonderful news of family reunited, there is once again the shadow side of loss. My uncle passed away.  I don't grieve on his behalf because he went somewhere that I long to go, to the other side of finite time, to a joyous eternal life.  But on this side of time, I feel the loss.  I know my aunt and cousins and their spouses and children have to deal with a new reality that is missing an important piece.  My uncle and aunt had been married for over half their lives; they met when my aunt was 14. It's not just a hole in your life when such a person passes away, it's a part of yourself that goes, too.

So, I sit here at the kitchen table, staring out at a brilliant blue sky and sunlit apartment buildings, contemplating the intricacies of life to the rhythm of the wall clock and my own keyboard typing. Light. Dark. Light. Dark. Each bead of the necklace is carefully juxtaposed by the one beside it, adding luster, adding beauty, adding content.

May we wear it with hope, ever with hope.

Valentino

RIP, Valentino.
Thank you for your years of service and adventure.
In our long line of old cars, you were the oldest and most temperamental. You liked to crank with a choke and frequently pause mid-intersection.  It was always a risk on rainy days to take you for a spin, since it was impossible to know whether your wipers would have strength to keep swishing. You've received many a dent and a scratch, fewer washes than you needed, and extra spark cables to keep your juices going.  I will forever remember the time you decided to attract the ladies with a new scent: eau d'gasoline. However, we soon rid you of that fetish, as it was slightly detrimental to our wellbeing.  You contained many a friendly conversation, pick-ups and carry-homes, mökki trips and one last summer hurrah to the archipelago with our dearest friends.  You were the occasion of friendly inquiries from other mazda owners, who had nothing but nostalgic good things to say about your kind.
Consider this a well-earned retirement.
Merci.  Adieu.

Falling, falling

Fall is here again, or the beginnings of it.  I resisted by wearing a summer dress and flip flops.  Here's a fist at you, autumnal gloom.  I'm not ready for you yet!

On another note, as I glanced back at the entries of this year (yes, too few, I know), I noted the phases that have brought me to the red dot that now marks my location on the map of life, "you are here." Did you see the trajectory, too?  It started last fall with an identity breakdown, a reality check, and a new operating system that now contains the file marked "listen to yourself."  This new system is also missing the "performance control" button that I used to default to.  I still wonder where it is occasionally, but have realized that I'm doing quite well without it.  I'm falling apart, and it's wonderful (I have become fast friends with a state of being known as "vague discomfort due to work in progress.")

And on a further note, I had some dreams come true:
my friends Crystal and Stephanie visited
    We toured the Archipelago, had great talks and chilled at a cabin on the sea
I went to a new place: Denmark
     I fell in love with Copenhagen and the smiling Danes
I'm learning to not be afraid of mistakes
    I've made so many at my sales job that by now I don't fear them, but expect them

My list of dreams has plenty of unfulfilled ones loitering around.  I'm not sure they will come true, but I just wanted to take a moment to acknowledge that dreams do come true!  It has been somewhat of a dark season of life for many reasons, but in the midst of everything, there are flowers of thankfulness blooming in the garden of my heart.  And to face all that is yet to come, I hope the little sprouts of boldness will grow stronger.

midnight love letter

ever the gentleman,
you gave me your hand
and promised a journey
unlike any other, one
where you would never
leave my side, ever.

if i didn't have you to
hold on to, i don't know
where i would be--
pleasure bent and broken
by others that can't
fulfill the deepest thirst
that drives me, perhaps
despising myself and the
choices i made, too
caught up in my own
comfort to realize i could
live another way.

instead i am with you
here and now as i am
without many things
yet brimming with others
owning a deep-set hope
in your very essence and
breath moving in me;
you are beautiful, i am
enchanted and waiting
even as your voice tunes
my heart to a song of
incomparable longing.

and you say, ask, and
i'll give.  so i ask, for
your sake and your will,
my understanding limited
but fully trusting in your
perfection and timing.

Tune in for the next song...

To those of you who pass by to read this, let me give you a brief update on the lovely but time-consuming sleep-depriving upheavals of my life.

I have moved to a lovely (2 room + kitchen) flat with my sister.  I can tell it is going to be a great season of life.  I feel that way whenever I sit in my new living room or when I have coffee on the sofa in my kitchen where the morning sun warms me nicely. We are still missing many things, but ah, no worries. Like much else in life, settling in to a new home is a process.  It means letting go of what was (a lovely season of communal living), setting up shop (extremely tiring), and creating new routines.

In addition to the teaching I do, I got a part-time job as a salesperson in a ladies' unmentionables shop. I have a great boss, nice coworkers, beautiful products and much to learn about fittings and models. Successful encounters with customers, however, are certainly the highlights of the day!  With so much to learn and changing schedules, my mind is at once positively challenged as well as wearied.

The sun has also returned!  Many meetings with friends, church responsibilities, neighborhood explorations and the expectation of a great summer are also floating in the current framework of my life. I think I've also started to take myself more lightly, and that makes life more fun!  Anyway, this post isn't for deep ramblings, just more of a "hello" and "they're playing a new song the radio station!"

Going public

So, you may or may not know this, but I have been taking voice lessons.  Yes, I decided to challenge myself, because singing is something I love, but am not very good at.  I once ended up leading worship at a church service, and while I didn't get any bad feedback, it was just harrowing enough that I decided I didn't want to repeat that experience.  It has been slow going, but I have found my voice enough to join a workshop and choir this weekend.  Yep, singing in public.  Should you be around this neck of the woods on Saturday, and you happen to like gospel music, do come to our concert!

telltale signs

There's a bunch of delicate pink tulips on the table.  Today I also said hello to a wane sun hesitantly greeting me behind scudding clouds.  I walked on un-graveled sidewalk and noted that at six pm the sky was still tinted with blue.  The heart goes thump-thump, steps begin to bounce and the mind lifts a lazy eyebrow at the thought of seeking summer jobs.

Spring is in the air!