Sunday, December 16, 2012

let your heart be light

sinatra's singing, christmas goodies for our near and dear are slowly melting into form in the oven. my love is in the kitchen sneaking a taste. somewhere; there's a candle burning. i've always loved the lyric "let your heart be light" -- just the idea that we as humans have some control over the weight of our hearts. it's hard to remember, but i think we do. at christmas, a lot of times i'll let out a sigh (or a secret huff inside my head) and lament that it's all passing by so quickly and i've yet to feel it. do you ever have that? like i could be sitting on santa's lap with an eggnog in hand and somehow...i just can't feel christmas. i've got to stop doing that. christmas is a lightness. a beauty. something tangible. and as an adult, it doesn't come as easy to me. but when i catch a glimpse of a tree lit up in a bay window, or snuggle in under some blankets to watch the same movie we watch every year...the magic finds it's way in and settles under my ribs; warms my cheeks. maybe the lightness comes when we're doing other things. like an old friend showing up on your doorstep.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

wedding feature

Of all the things about these past few months that feel surreal, I'd say waking up the morning after Christmas to see our day on Style Me Pretty has to top the list. After admiring this blog for years, our love (as captured by a great friend) was featured on it.

Kind of like how, after dreaming of these days for so long, I finally get to go through life with my favorite man. I'm such a lucky girl. I just have to remember to keep opening my eyes, and to give thanks.

You can find the feature here.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

west elm; kind of like growing up.

i started crying almost immediately, which surprised me. i almost never cry. upon getting off the phone with my sister tonight, it was clear i would be going to this event alone.

boo hoo, right? god. you may be a yuppie cry about going to craft workshops at home stores alone. the logical answer (for me) would be to not go, if i was so worried about it. (i'll be real with you. i had visions of walking into a store packed with very lovely and very mean ladies in striped shirts and top knots, all falling silent when i dared to step across the threshold.) but something about me wanted this evening.

had i woken up today as a normal, well-adjusted, recent college grad, i'd call someone else after my sister declined. but you know what? my other friend was working. (just so you know, that last sentence is the most honest portrayal of my life at this very moment. i've been blessed with these beautiful, incredible friends...and none of them live within three hours of me.)

so you know who i called? the most random person ever. i mean really, this person is exceptionally random in a room of random people. not because we don't have that strong acquaintance connection thing going, but because we're really just totally different people. and i can only say this because i know she agrees. in conversation, we'd probably refer to each other as "sweet," and that's about as far as it would go.

i texted her, held my breath, and she responded. "sure. sounds fun." and off we were, speeding towards the glowing beacon of the unknown universe that was this event at west elm.

here's a shocker: me and the rando had fun. actually, the whole night was great. it felt very anonymous, do you know what i mean? like walking around as a comfortable chicken with your head cut off, experiencing the world, and knowing very soon it will all be over.

i dropped rando off at her apartment, and then i read books at barnes and noble. as i flipped through the first few pages of five different books, i felt thoroughly pleased with myself for pushing through the sadness and awkwardness that usually accompanies unknown situations for me. instead of giving up, i drove to west elm with a girl i hardly knew and i had a really nice night. and to top it all off, when i walked to my car, the air smelled like vanilla powdered donuts.

all of this is to say: tonight, i surprised myself. and maybe my world (which ended up looking a teensy bit more like a grown up world) surprised me too.

and that's the story of how i grew up a little bit at west elm.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

on my way back to where i started.

feelings come to me in the form of lyrics, sometimes. do you feel the same way? songs that sing like poems are the best ones.

i woke up this morning, my eyes sticky from tears. i don't dream much, but when i do, they're nightmares. what does that say about me? probably nothing i don't already know. i'm a happy girl that's got a lot of underlying fears. mostly of things that could happen. i've always viewed it as the happier you are, the more you have to lose. maybe that's pessimistic. i see it as a law of gravity.

i digress, kind of.

i've said it before. never have i felt so many highs and lows in one 365 day period. the highs have been life changing, but the lows have been too long and too frequent. and ever since i've moved back home, this lyric has struck at my heart. not until today did i realize why. (isn't that beautiful? we know ourselves, underneath it all, better than we realize. perhaps our subconscious has got it all figured out. maybe that's why things work out in the end.)

i moved back to the place i grew up, slept across the hall from where i grew up, and dated (then married) the boy i grew up with. returning home should have been the easiest thing in the world. like breathing.

"life" hit. or the things people like to refer to as life but which actually mean heartache. i was sad. sad from too much change, from growing up. sad from being in the same place but everything feeling different. sad at the way things happened and what i saw and how things happened. sad for everything i lost. sad from stress. sad at the fact that i didn't recognize myself anymore. (who am i if i can't wake up and walk to class? drink hot tea after my shift at starbucks? play in the rain at two-o-clock on a wednesday afternoon?)

and suddenly, this place called home couldn't have felt more like death. like a slow, painful, caught under a rock death. but slowly, slowly...something changed. perhaps weight shifted. maybe chemicals flooded back into my brain. but i felt this real and lovely shift and then it was like, oh hello lungs, there you are! somehow you've been pumping away all along.

and now, days and weeks and months away from the heartache, i can see it for what it was. i've been on my way back to where i started. i moved one hundred miles back to my childhood home six months ago and i've just finally arrived. where i can see, feel, taste and touch comfort. things aren't perfect, they're not the same, but they're mine; and life is actually better. i'm better.

sometimes i wonder if it's all worth it. kind of like one of my favorite movies, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. if you could erase it all, the good and the bad, everything that caused your heart to burst to pieces, would you? i don't think i would.

but, i suppose that's what all good romances are about. loving til it (because?) it hurts. and that's what i'm going to keep doing, every single day.

five (or something like that) things

1. i arrived home yesterday to this guy setting up our new table. shortly after, my sister and brother in law came over with their family to break it in. something about sharing dinner on our new table in our new house felt very real. you know those moments? this is our life. i have to peel open my eyes sometimes and look.

2. just made it home from work (and it's still light out! hooooray), listening to this, about to make these, and these and drink them with some cheap red. (is there any other type? perhaps, but you'd never know it from my pantry.) such a lovely winter evening.

3. not sure what it is about this song that completely undoes me. probably something about 1:47 in.

4. just compiled our christmas wishes. looks like it's going to a bookish affair.

5. as i sit here, i can't think of anything that says it better than this:

Sunday, November 13, 2011

a return

good evening, friends.

i've found my way back to this little world. i've been looking forward to this moment--when life would slow down enough for me to sit down and reflect, share the good things, remember and rejoice. it's such a luxury to write down thoughts, to preserve them and share them, don't you think?

i've walked a long way since that last blog post...i've thrown my cap, i've said the type of goodbyes that still make me cry. i've received my first "big" girl paychecks, i've married my sweetheart, i've moved too many times...and all the while i felt this little journal calling me back.

it's been a long, long road through probably one of the most noteworthy years of my life. but as anyone who has lived many years knows, the memorable years are often the hardest. they're sweet, but they come with sting. the sting of change, of endings, and of loss.

but, then i think about all the lovely, beautiful things i've experienced this year. the moments that take my breath away with just how perfect and how fleeting they are. and my god, has it been worth it.

in returning to this little neglected blog, i'm returning to consciousness, to thoughtfulness, and to myself. i can't wait to see where it takes me.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

in the end.

the end is approaching--the end of life as i know it.

so many things to be scared of. so many things to question. so many things i could try to hold onto but will have to let go.

and as i let my mind wander, my sweet fiance dreams of our life from the other side--
his life has already started, and he's just waiting for me, more excited by the day.

as i complain about the sweat inducing heat in columbia today:
(in relation to a city we're talking about moving to with even hotter weather)
me: "but i'm already sweating. i don't think i could stand it to be any hotter. can i just wear dresses all the time?"
bub: "of course, i think you look beautiful in dresses. and we'll have the windows open and fans blowing and we'll be happy living in our tree house. we don't need anything else."

swoon. how did i get so lucky as to find the one man that is happy with me and only me?
and will listen to me groan about really stupid crap all day.

as everything gets a little crazier around here, i definitely could stand to focus on these silly, happy things a little more.

happy spring, lovebirds.