In the Night

I was laying around, unable to sleep last night thinking about possible blog topics. Now, on this beautiful Saturday morning, I can't remember them. I am sure they were amazing and insightful and full of passion, but the lazy, perfect-weather weekend I am currently a part of is stealing all that from me, and I gladly give it over.

The house I stay in right now has an amazing view of Pikes Peak. Tall and majestic in the distance, it is this peak that often triggers the deep feeling of history that comes from living here in Colorado for the majority of my life. Excursions to the four corners of the earth have not taken the streets that I know and the memories that I have from this place.

Yesterday, however, I realized that I have not been around as much as I imagine. Things have changed that I haven't witnessed. New buildings. New roads. New houses. New couples. New families. New traditions. While the familiar weights me in comfort, the unfamiliar reminds me of my pilgrammage and the fact that I will never be "home" until I am Home.

I find it interesting that every few months I re-evaluate what I am doing with my life in order to commit to it again at another level. I consider the "pros" and "cons" - which, truthfully, have very little effect in the decisions I make. I consider the possibilities and opportunities, which weigh slightly more heavily. Then I come to the same conclusion I always do - that I can stand behind every decision I have made, good and bad, and that I am not going to stop pursueing that which I can't understand in exchange for what so many believe is the only way. The Great Mystery woos me again.

Smells like Primate

I am creating a phrase.

You know when you do something really silly, simplistic and overall (let's just say it even though our mommies told us not to) really, really dumb? And, in this moment of ridiculous behavior, your friends need to call you out on it? I suggest using the phrase: Smells like primate! Referring, of course, to the the fact that the stupid behavior (the one you are thinking about right now) is a witness to a regressing evolutionary cycle that sometimes, and unfortunately repeatedly, still plagues mankind.

Why this phrase? Here are the top 5 reasons:

1. It is WAY more appropriate that cursing

2. It is rather funny and will get you (or your friend) to stop belly gazing

3. It is less harsh then calling someone an idiot - or similar phrase

4. It could really take off and we would be on the front edge of it

5. It really works

So practice it today, in whatever part of the world you are in. When the driver in front of you cuts you off to slam on his (or her . . . probably her) brakes, "Smells like Primate!" When you say something SO not true about yourself and get wild-eyed stares as responses from your friends, "Smells like Primate!" When you overbook, overcommit and feel silly explaining it to your boss, "Smells like Primate!"

Let's not be rude, though. Rude is like . . . pre-primate behavior.

How I love the Library!

I love the library. I think my generation underestimates the library and I fear its demise because of disuse. Today I went to check out a book I put on hold. As I pulled up, mothers with their numerous children flocked in the door, canvas bags in hand, ready to switch out old, read books for new, exciting adventures in literature. The rotating doors whirled and spun with kids, reminding me of a black and white movie candy shop entrances or Christmas at Macy's back in the day. ("The day" referring to the period of time before my birth) Reading is fun.

Just say "Yes!"

I have a condition. I looked it up online and can't find a name for it, but here is the scenario:

I walk into any business establishment to discuss terms of their services. Be it a bank, a gym or a salon it doesn't matter. Some wily employee sits me on the opposite side of his desk and this is when it hits - it doesn't matter what they say, what I am looking for or how badly I DON'T need it, once I am on the other side of that desk, they can pretty much talk me into anything! For years I wasn't allowed to make any contractual decisions, or give away any bank account information without my brother-in-law sitting next to me and agreeing. See, he doesn't have a problem negotiating terms and walking away if it doesn't meet the agreed upon need or budget like I do.

Earlier this week, Wednesday to be exact, I walked into a bank to make a deposit into a friends account. I had done this before with no problem, but at another branch. I seriously think it was like the "Personal Banker" saw me coming. He lept up, walked towards me and asked how he could help. A simple deposit, that is all I needed. Well, we sat down, me on one side of the desk and him on the other and before I knew it I had opened a new checking account, complete with a United Mileage Plus debit card. Oh gosh.

Meanwhile, my sister, who had dropped me at the bank just to go return a movie in the same shopping mall, was waiting patiently outside. Patiently turned to anxiously. Anxious turned to worry. My one small transaction took way longer (because I was filling out paperwork for my new checking account, and my free $100 opening bonus!). Jessica searched the aisles, glanced into the offices and couldn't find me. She even called my mom and started wondering what horrible thing could have happened to me. No, the banker didn't tell me that I had to get into the dark windowed van parked in the alley in order to open the bank account. I was fine, but I was taking a lot longer then expected.

On the upside, I have a great new checking account, an extra $100.00, a new personal banker who I may or may not have a crush on and have humbly been reminded that I am not old enough to make my own decisions solely. That is why I have friends and bro-in-laws to help!

Moving Green - Getting Blue

Something struck me as I re-entered the U.S. this time around. I cannot pin point the change, but somewhere around the first chapter of Hot, Flat and Crowded and while grabbing one more bottled water, I became increasingly committed to living well on Earth - i.e. making my carbon footprint shrink in size. As a learner at heart, I usually focus on a particular subject and dive into it for a season. This seasons topic - going green. The environment and how to interact with it well has become my new study subject, and the subject of the majority of the eight library books stacked near my bed with bookmarks scattered through them.

In the last weeks we have started recycling at my house, cut energy consumption, driven fewer miles and begun buying fresh fruits and vegetables at local farmers markets instead of corporate groceries. These are small steps in my personal movement towards protecting the earth.

As I have jumped into the Green Scene, it has become increasingly difficult to not get bogged down with all that is amiss in the way we (Americans) shop, live, dispose, consume and erode. Thankfully, a few authors have made the way much more feasible by making it simple. In 50 Things You Can Do To Save the Earth, the Javna's present easy to remedy consumption issues and solutions that can be worked into almost any life. For example, number 13 in the book is Think Globally, Eat Locally. The goal: Support farmers in your area by eating locally grown food. Pretty simple, especially in the summer when the farmer's market is on every Saturday morning and there is nothing like Rocky Ford, Colorado cherries, anyway! Or number 40, The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea with a weekly challenge to not accumulate any more plastic bags - not even from newspaper delivery. (Go ahead, just try it.)

One of the sub-topics that have really interested me deals directly with consumerism - voting with your spending power. This is a huge deal in the U.S., and as I have already bucked the system with the career and education decisions I have made, why not jump into spending habits that may flow upstream, but will keep the steams flowing. If you want to know how much power there really is in being a mindful consumer, check out Big Green Purse by Diane MacEachern. In an organizational style I have loved, MacEachern has created a reference with has Thumbs Up and Thumbs Down sections, telling you what to use, where to shop and what to avoid. She also gives tips and alternatives to what is already being used and consumed to move you in the right direction.

The Green Movement may sometimes be frusturating and seemingly impossible to live up to, but stop holding your breath, there are ways to get on the boat and plenty of organic, biodegradable life rafts available - possibly even made out of corn.

Who'll Write Your Biography?

Have you ever stood in front of someone with a false smile on your face and a, "Just fine," response that was so forced it nearly caused a brain aneurysm? Or sat in a group of people using the word "blessed" so many times that the meaning of the word became weightless right in front of you? Brokenness is not a hot commodity in our world. It isn't looked upon or handled well. We don't flaunt it like new cars or new clothes. When a person can't pull themselves together we so often respond with blame or quick fix answers that hurt deeper still. How many times have I smudged my way through a testimony of grace and forgiveness, ignoring the hard reality of the moments not covered in love? How many exciting personal triumphs get downplayed because few know the depth of the pit in the first place? Why does it seem more appropriate to talk about our struggles when we have beat them, then to speak out a cry for comfort/help/community in the midst of them?

I was chatting with a friend of mine a couple days ago that is in a hard spot. I had no advice to offer, no real comfort and we both knew that patent answers weren't going to cut it. On my way home I pondered the condition of my own community. Who stands with me? Who lets me fall? Who is still there when I am deep in darkness, dirty and poor (and they know it)? As I was thinking I thought about God, the AUTHOR of our lives. The one who writes, and rights, our stories.

On Earth we read biographies because people overcame or pioneered or lived an inspiring few years here. We read, and so often glorify, the independent individual who beat all odds and sacrificed everything to bring something into the world that we all became familiar with - whether an idea or a convenience or another progression of something we already had. The biographers write the story and highlight the success and we read in wonder and heroism.

I don't think God is that kind of biographer. When I see the book of my life (or short story, or article) I will read of a lot of hurt. I will read of a lot of doubt and fear. I will read of a girl, created by God, living life to honor Him and failing in her own humanity. I will read of a girl crying out for mercy instead of judgement, not only for others as I do in public, but for myself as I so often silently scream. The pages of my biography will be tear stained and painful, but they will be real, and in them there will be woven hope, promise and perseverance. Brokenness interrupted by occasional fruit or "success." Messiness interrupted by occasional moments of revelation and awe. In all this there will be God - moving, teaching, challenging, listening, speaking - why? Because He is the story. In my good and in my bad, He is the story.

The silent scream in my city is that of authenticity. Dirtiness. Love that is difficult to muster, but mustered still. The silent scream of my heart is for the same. I do not dwell in difficulty or exalt hardship, but it is part of my life. An ongoing, engagement requiring, ferocious part of my life. As a Christian, I admit to wondering about my faith, doubting what I once thought I knew, questioning the things that are supposed to be absolute and redefining the word "absolute." In the chaos that results from digging up roots long growing in the depths of my soul and the doubts I have at my own ability to receive mercy from God, He is. And in my most heartfelt cry, I know that regardless of where I stand at the end of all time, He is and always will be. If I fail, He is. If I deny, He is. If I grow, He is.

"I'm so glad that this has taken me so long, 'cause it's the journey that made me so strong."