a different view...

For the past two weeks or so, my mind has been stuck on this idea of perspective. The word is tumbling around inside of my head like a shoe in a dryer - bouncing off of the sides and making a clunk every once in awhile. What I can't seem to figure out, though, is how to tackle such a huge subject. And what specifically do I want to focus on? I guess I'll just start writing and see what comes out... :) That seems fair to you, right??

It seems fairly obvious that our nation is going through a huge upheaval right now. There is so much hurt, and confusion, and fear - on all sides - that it's hard to wade through to see the forest through the trees. And it's shockingly unfair to always be told to focus on the forest instead of those trees. It's so easy to get stuck in our view and not stretch ourselves any further for fear of being uncomfortable. But I guess this is where the concept of shifting perspectives comes in to play... I'm almost 35 years old, and I feel so naive about the things that are going on in our world. I'll be the first to admit that I have previously been of the mind that I don't want to know all of the terrible or hurtful things that are happening because it just feels like too much. But what kind of mindset is that? Not the kind of mindset that a young and educated person in the United States of America should have right now - or anytime! I can't sit in my comfortable bubble. Like I said to someone yesterday, now is the time to be uncomfortable for the sake of other people's comfort. And now is the time for me, and for so many others in our world, to shift our view. I'm trying. I'm trying so hard. And it's stretching me a lot -- which is a great thing for this creature of habit. 

I'm trying to show love instead of anger. I'm trying to embrace everybody where they are at, and gently nudge when they need a nudge to the side of right. I'm trying to find my own voice in a world full of so many loud voices, about subjects that I've previously been mute on. I wake up every day full of love for the people in my life and the blessings that I have, and I am hoping that I am able to help protect those for other people who feel threatened and scared in our current world climate. I am doing what I can at this moment in time, but I anticipate that with more knowledge and more awareness, that my abilities with continue to grow. I don't say hope - I say anticipate because I know it will grow. 

It's just funny to me how things can look so differently from the exact same spot, you know? I'm the same person I've always been, just evolving and changing constantly. But from my perspective, things are starting to shift. And it feels good. In a world right now where so much feels bad, it feels good to know that I'm digging in and trying to understand. 

I will continue to treat others with kindness, and be a friend to those who are afraid. I will continue to spread love and joy in my world as I am able, no matter who you voted for or where you stand. And I encourage you all to do that same. Because even though I am trying to be vocal against what I believe is wrong, I am choosing to stand on the side of love as I do it. The two are not exclusive - they can go hand in hand. Because as Jackie DeShannon once sweetly sang, "what the world needs now, is love, sweet love. it's the only thing, that there's just too little of."

From where I sit, it's always changing.... Always morphing and moving. 

From where I sit, it's always changing.... Always morphing and moving. 

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow, and Always.

Sometimes you know that you want to write but you don't know how to get the words started. So you turn to a beloved friend, and she hands you a small metaphorical rubber band ball, and a handful of colorful rubber bands, and encourages you to just keep building. And so you do.

Here are my rubber bands...

Yesterday...

Yesterday... I performed talent shows and musicals on my front lawn...

Yesterday... I took for granted the time that I had with the people who created me...

Yesterday... I worked a job that, while fulfilling and equipping me with incredible skills and empathy, was not where my heart lay...

Yesterday... I feared that, although my name literally means this, that I was not very worth of love in the romantic sense, and that I would never find someone who loves me exactly for me...

Yesterday... The idea of spending a lot of time with my brother was not my idea of fun...

Yesterday... I had the attention span for a hobby or an activity like a hummingbird - flitting around from here to there (I now realize that my dad and I had that in common.)  and never truly landing on something that felt just right... 

Today...

Today... I wake up every day next to the person who I found that compliments me. The man that I will be with for the rest of my life, and who loves me beyond a shadow of a doubt for everything that I am, and all of the things that I strive to be...

Today... I have the most solid and fierce group of friends in my life. They are all so unique, and wonderful, and totally mine - and for that my heart literally bursts when I think about how lucky I am to have them... 

Today... I am finding a new passion in myself for using my words and my lettering skills to celebrate moments in people's lives - big or small. It is bringing me all kinds of joy, and I'm hoping to share that joy with others more as I get deeper in...

Today... I have a job that allows me to shine my light in so many ways that are rewarding and appealing to me. I am so lucky to sit in this chair and share the lives of over 200 kids every single day...

Today... I face certain tasks, like looking through things at my Dad's house, and feel afraid and sad, but know that it's okay to feel that way, and allow myself to be gentle with myself. My brother will be by my side as I do it, and having him with me through all of this has been huge... 

Today... David and I make grown-up decisions that will better our lives in the future, while we try to also be mindful that we are young and need to have fun together while it's just the two of us... 

Tomorrow...

Tomorrow... I plan to harness my creativity and turn that in to helping people celebrate their life's moments, and also make some money doing something that I love... 

Tomorrow... I'm sleeping in, and getting breakfast made for me by my sweet husband... 

Tomorrow... We embark upon a new chapter in our lives together that will make David so much happier, and will make our future selves so much happier and more secure... 

Tomorrow... I find more time to sit and be still, and listen to what my heart is telling me. To just listen instead of filling space with TV and music and chatting. Just listen listen listen... 

Tomorrow... I celebrate the ordinary in the every day, and recognize the people in my life for their personal greatness, as well as the greatness they bring to my life... 

Tomorrow... I find a way to get improv back in to my life on a regular basis, because I feel like I am wilting without it around...

And finally, Always...

Always... I will keep laughing, and will delight in making others laugh...

Always... I will remember the sing-song way my dad said "LOVE yooouuu" right before he hung up the phone... 

Always... I will thank my lucky stars for the amazing family, husband, and friends that I have been blessed with, and will strive to share my joy to have them more frequently...

Always... I will complain about my brother and his antics but will secretly love those things about him, because he's the opposite of me and so many things that I wish I could be...

Always... I will keep creating, no matter what the end goal is...

Always... I will be thankful... always I will be thankful... always I will be thankful...

<3

...penny for my thoughts...

On a cold day in December, the 19th to be exact, I literally ran through a parking lot at my full speed. As I ran, something shiny caught my eye and I stopped, for a brief second, to pick up the penny that lay heads up on the cement. David grabbed my hand and urged me along and I said "I just grabbed this penny, it was heads up and good luck." and I tucked it in to my pocket, gripping it tight. The door that we ran through was to the emergency room, and what lay behind those doors was my father - in a state that was a complete mystery to me. I had been on a frantic call with his husband a few minutes earlier, and we got in the car as fast we we could go. I was supposed to be at a concert in Tacoma, and David was supposed to be working but was sick. It was not just a coincidence that we were both home when I got that call, I'm sure of that. We drove the 5 minutes across town not having any clue what we would find. I speculated aloud, and David just squeezed my hand and told me to think positive thoughts. As we drove to the hospital, I couldn't stop thinking over and over again that this could be really, really bad. So it seemed only natural to grab on to any shred of hope and luck that I could possibly find as I ran in to the complete unknown. Less than one hour later, I found the penny in my pocket and angrily gave it to David, declaring "take this stupid thing, it was not even close to being good luck." Words had been said to us that even now I'm having a hard time typing... A strange person had walked in to the room that we were waiting in, on the edges of our seats, and told us "I'm sorry, he's gone." It was numbing, and I felt the walls and the reality come crashing down on me. And when I found the penny awhile later, I felt my anger flare up at the sight of it, and tossing it aside for letting me down was the obvious solution.

Fast forward to two weeks later. Christmas and New Years had come and gone, and we had all gathered to say goodbye to my father. One of the hardest days of my life had gone by in a sort of blur, but I'd been surrounded by more love than I'd ever experienced. My family and best friends took such good care of me throughout those two weeks, making sure that I was safe, and comfortable, and reminding me just how loved I was. They let me cry when I needed to, helped me laugh when I needed to -- did everything perfectly. I could not have asked for more. After the dust had settled on my house and I was sitting down to write some cards, I felt reality and the quiet heavy on my shoulders. David was cleaning up, and he approached me at the table with something in his hand -- the penny. He told me that he knew that I was angry, and that the penny had not done what I had hoped, but that he was holding on to give back to me so I could have it. I took it from him, and sat holding it, reflecting on how much my life had changed in just under 3 weeks. I cried and cried and cried, which I'd come to realize was going to happen a lot (and had happened a lot already) and sat in the living room to think.

It was then, looking at that penny, that I thought about my dad and his connections to this coin in my hand (besides the obvious that I've already mentioned). My mind drifted to a story that my dad had told me often... when he was young, he had a Cocker Spaniel named Penny. He adored Penny, and told us frequently growing up that Penny had saved his life once. He had gotten lost in the woods and it was Penny that got him home. The way that he spoke about Penny was always so tender and loving. I loved that story.

One of my favorite things that I liked to tease my dad about throughout his life was about candy. He had told me once that the only thing that he had ever stolen was a piece of penny candy from a candy store near his house in California. He had said that he felt so guilty about it, and that if he could go back to that store and give them a penny, he would. I always teased him about that, joking that they closed down because of that one piece of candy.  It was one of my favorite things to needle him about.

Not to mention the fact that he went through a huge faze of decorating with copper. There are lots of copper decorations and whirly-gigs hanging in his house. He fell in love with them years ago and went through one of his phases, and ended up getting a bunch to put around the house.

So as I sat there and cried thinking about what I had lost, and holding that "stupid penny" tight, I realized that things don't always present themselves for the obvious reasons. And that even though that penny did not bring me the luck that I thought it would, it reconnected me to parts of my dad that I hadn't thought about in a long time, and I'm sure will resurface many more times throughout my life. And it's these little memories that I'm so, so lucky to have gathered and held on to for when things get hard, and when I can't hold back the tears any longer. Memories like these will pull me through anything.

I'm holding on tight to this and all of the memories that it brings.
I'm holding on tight to this and all of the memories that it brings.

A (tiny) friend(ly) reminder...

Things are slowly transitioning into adorable around here. It's that time of year when the holidays are coming, and more and more special days are popping up in our daily school calendar. The days are getting shorter, it's getting colder, and it's starting to feel like Christmas is just around the corner (although this could be since it exploded on to the commercial scene the day after Halloween -- sorry, Thanksgiving!).  With that, comes the feeling that my heart is basically consistently wrapped up in a soft fuzzy blanket. Everything makes me go "awwww" or swoon a little bit, and a lot of things tug at my heart strings so quickly that tears spring to my eyes. DISCLAIMER: Not pregnant, before that even comes out of someone's mouth or gets typed!!  With all of this being said, you will understand completely when I tell you about a moment that I was part of yesterday when reading to the JrK kiddos that completely melted my heart into a little puddle... We were reading a story that was beautifully illustrated, a Native American legend story about the Sun Arrow. We turned a page and there was a drawing of a mama cradling a baby. I pointed it out to the class and one kiddo (who may or not be a favorite of mine if I was picking favorites but I'm not supposed to be I'm just saying he is the sweetest but again I don't have favorites) breathed "oh, I just looooove that!" To which my heart soared a bit.

But wait -- there's more....

There was a quiet conversation between kids after that, and I suddenly heard the same above-named (but totally not one of my favorites because I shouldn't have those right????) say strongly "Don't say that you don't like that. It's beautiful. It's LOVELY!"

You guys. My heart just about burst open right there. I walked away with the warmest feeling in my heart, and I could not wait to share it with my boss, and his parents. Every time I even think about what he said, my hand flies to my heart instinctively as if to say "you're going to hear it again, heart of mine -- prepare yourself so that you don't explode right now."  But I also think I do it because it's my way of containing myself a little bit. If I let myself, every time I thought of that story I could possibly burst in to tears at the sheer sweetness of it.

We can complain left and right, up and down, backwards and forwards all day long. But the beauty of knowing that some of those things that we are complaining about are things that someone else finds beautiful and lovely? To me, it's just plain magical. They say that one man's junk is another man's treasure, and that's so true. That bold reminder from my little friend yesterday jump started my brain into overdrive and has me thinking pretty deeply about the idea of not being so indifferent. And also about seeing the beauty and lovely in everything around us -- even if it's just a drawing on a page. We also must be bold and alert each other of this fact whenever possible. Not to be smug, or to shame, but just like my friend did yesterday -- to simply remind them about the beauty in things that others are so quick to dismiss. 

And so I'm making it my charge to embrace this notion, that there is beauty in everything for someone, even if it isn't me. And I'm also remembering to grant grace when someone doesn't find something lovely like I do. But never being afraid to be the one that loudly breathes "awww, I just love that" when I cannot possibly contain myself.

It's beautiful.
It's beautiful.

It all make sense (memories) to me...

The days are getting shorter and colder, and the wind and rain are creeping back in to our lives. As I write this, I'm watching the wind whip all of the trees and bushes around outside and thinking to myself that I'm surprised the power hasn't been knocked out yet (but I'm eternally grateful that it hasn't, and I'm knocking on wood right now!). With this blustery weather comes the nudge to make a cup of hot tea most afternoons as I sit here at work, and hunker down in my cozy chair... And the other day, while making my daily cup of earl gray (obsessed!), I had a flashback in the faculty room. (<-- That sounds like a cheesy movie title. Coming 2016.)

I have taken this entire box down, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.
I have taken this entire box down, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

Suddenly I was 7 years old, sitting at my Gram's house, at her kitchen table. I can see it, feel it, and smell it all so vividly. Gram is our old neighbor, who I adopted (or who adopted me, rather!) as a grandma from day 1. Her bright yellow house with the cement sidewalk stood right next to us, on the corner of Eliason and Ness Place. I got stung by a bee for the very first time on that sidewalk, and spent countless hours watching Poppa, her husband, clean fish in the yard and leave behind the shimmery scales all over the yard. My shoes constantly had shiny scales on them from the grass, and I didn't hate it at all. I would go over at least once a week for tea -- sometimes with my mom, and sometimes by myself. Plain, Lipton tea bags, with milk (not cream!), and lots of sugar, just the way I liked it. My cup of tea road that temperature line between lukewarm and hot, exactly the way it should be for a 7 year old girl. We would sit at her table and talk and talk and talk. There were usually always cookies to be had (my favorite were her homemade thumbprint cookies with the slightly chewy jelly center. Oh man.) Sometimes Poppa would stop and visit for a minute after working on lawnmowers, but only if his hearing aids were in and he wasn't feeling grumpy. :P When I close my eyes, as I type this, I'm sitting right back there on the wooden chairs, in their tiny kitchen, drinking my tea. Sometimes when I've made that perfect cup, now at 33 years old, I will be transported right back to that memory that completely envelopes me, and wraps its arms around me, just like Gram used to. I feel warm and cozy inside of it, and I let it linger for awhile while I stir in my cream and sugar packets, and it usually fades away a few sips in. But it's there still, tucked away for the next time...

I am not addicted to coffee, and I'm not a person who needs caffeine to stay awake. It takes a lot of caffeine to do much of anything to me, but I definitely enjoy a good latte or a loaded up cup of drip regularly.

But first, coffee.
But first, coffee.
Some of us are a bit more dependent on it.
Some of us are a bit more dependent on it.

For me, so much of what I love about coffee is rooted in connection. It's not about the actual coffee, it's about the company I have while drinking it. 

I started drinking coffee in college. I had tried a latte here and there, but had always kind of despised that bitter coffee taste. But one day, driving through the D&M coffee drive-thru in good old Ellensburg with my friends Mark and Randy, it all changed. I tried Randy's Almond Roca mocha and had found the holy grail of coffee. This should alert you to how a weenie like me likes her coffee drinks - sweet. :) But my tastes have changed as I've grown, and I can now tolerate the taste of coffee more than before, but I do still require cream and something sweet inside. After that, for me, it really started to be about the quality time during coffee. "Going to get a coffee" for me was almost always about talking with a friend or colleague, and spending time together. Sometimes playing games, sometimes doing work together, sometimes reading a good book... I can distinctly remember several "coffee dates" with multiple people-- not because something spectacular happened that was out of the ordinary, but because it was just a great time to be with that person.

I can quickly access a memory of a night in Starbucks, located in the parking lot of campus at Central. I remember a table filled with with Kristin and Eric and I, all working on something different around the holiday season. It was the time of Peppermint Mochas and Starbucks totally decorated for the holidays... I can picture us sitting at the table we sat it, and how cold it was outside (probably snowing), having trekked across the parking lot to work on stuff for hours and get out of our rooms. I remember the conversations and some of the things that we were working on, and I feel so comfortable inside of that memory. There are many times when I'm at a Starbucks and I flash right back to that evening. It's the same kind of feeling when I think about meeting with Jon to discuss him being the officiant for our wedding ceremony, or meeting David for the first time at Starbucks in Federal Way. I will always be able to recall those moments.

I could live inside of these memories forever. And on days when things are really hard, or I feel on the edge of tipping, I can slip right back in to any of these moments and feel a little bit better. I can sit holding my latte warming my hands and smile about the feeling that it gives me right in my core. In that moment, I'm happy and content. And all it takes is some hot water and a few other ingredients to get me there.

Feels like Home...

It's here! Rejoice! The first day of fall! Cue the sweaters, and cozy candles, and yummy fall drinks... Gaze in wonder upon the cool, crisp air and bright sunny skies. I, like most people who are smart and know what's good for them, adore this season...I've been laying out my leggings, oversized shirts, and Ugg boots for months just waiting for the right moment. Scratch that - I don't really own any of those things. Unless you count the leggings that have a huge hole in them. Those aren't fit for public consumption - obviously only to display my total sexiness.

I know that to say that I love fall is a bit cliche by this point, but it's more than just all of the things I stated above for me. To me, fall is such a great time of renewal. It's also a wonderful period of waiting and settling. To me, fall feels like home.

I struggle a little bit in the summer. With the heat (and this summer was exceptional. #fansweremynumberonefan), with the constant need/feeling like I should be outside doing something, and just trying to "fit everything in." When the fall starts to gather its cool cloak around everything, I feel myself sigh with relief. I can hunker down into my proverbial bunker and gear up for what is to come. A new school year comes, with new faces to meet and learn. I have always been a creature of comfort and habit, and the fall allows me to slip back into the routines and feelings that I love and adore - and find that I need in order to maintain balance. The shorter the days become, the more excited I get for what is to come! The holidays, a new year, my birthday (today I said "I'm 33, almost 34" and just about did a spit take. Whoa. How did THAT happen???) It's all right around the corner, and I'm just tingly with anticipation for what is going to happen.

This fall, I'm trying to stretch my wings. I'm feeling a change in the things that I want and am striving for, and I'm really looking forward to seeing how things flesh themselves out. I want to write more. I want to use my creative brain a lot more. I want to have amazing conversations over delicious food or yummy coffee, or ice cream. I want to have great phone conversations, and also just phone conversations with my bestie about what she is looking at as she scans the aisle of Target. This is the kind of stuff I want to do. I want to collect memories and moments like the leaves that fall from trees, and make them in to something beautiful. I want to live in the moment of "yes, this is really happening!", and not in the moment of "I wish...." ... And this may not always end up being a positive thing. I know that life is full of hiccups and random left turns, and all that I can do is prepare myself for these in the sense that I have a great net to fall back on to. And I do have that, and then some. My net may be a little bit more spread out, but it's there.

I can reflect back on my life, in the last month or so, and see the moments when I would have liked to freeze frame and move things around a little bit before resuming. Maybe then it could have gone differently. But then it wouldn't have given me the insights that I needed. It wouldn't have given me that spectacular advice from my friends, or that cry that I just needed to get out. I'm not saying I wouldn't change things, I'm just saying that I had to sit with the "yes, this is happening....", and it wasn't all sunshine and roses. It was life. It was real. It was my reality.

And on the other end of my reality is this.... big windows and bright blue skies, crisp cool weather, smiling babies that visit me during the day, being tagged in photos on instagram, watching cable with my besties, just. being. myself.

Collecting those moments and breaths and memories all in a box and keeping it close to me to pull out when the fall goes away and I'm left waiting for next year when I can hunker down again. Even though I will be different, I know that I will still feel like I'm coming home as soon as fall comes back again... So for now, I snuggle in and delight in the comfort.

Maintaining three (four) points of contact...

Last night, I did something that I haven't done in a long time. I had a small panic attack. I had said goodbye to those years ago, I thought, but I found myself knee deep in jagged shallow breathing, shaking, and tears that wouldn't stop... Why then? What was happening, you may ask... My husband had forced (but not really) me in to a small boat.

I have never liked boats, I've always told myself. I know that we have a boat, but it's a motor boat, and even then, it took me awhile to not white knuckle it every time I sat in it. And it has nothing to do with anything that you feel like it would -- it's not the speed, it's not the danger, it's nothing like that. I've just always felt like no matter the size of the boat, I am an elephant daring it to capsize. My whole life I'd stayed away from boats like this. All of the years being at camp, I just simply said "I don't like boats", "I don't do boats." But in all actuality, I had no idea if I liked boats. I liked the idea of them, gliding across the water, feeling the wind on my face. But the idea that I would sink or tip just based on my sheer size paralyzed me from even attempting.

(I'm not fishing for reassurance when I say this (fishing! HA!), I am merely explaining what has held me back from boats for my entire life.)

David so badly wanted to take me out on one, to float the lake that I had grown up in, to let me bask in the stillness and sunshine with him, because for him, boats are calming and relaxing and fun. And because I had put him off for so long, and because it was a perfect night for it, I let him talk me in to it. I struggled to get in to the row boat, feeling it tip back and forth forcefully as I tried to find the perfect spot to put myself. The whole time, David's gentle voice was coaching me, guiding me, and his hands were placed firmly on the boat, keeping it steady. He kept telling me, as I felt the panic welling up inside of me and spilling out (as we stood in one foot of water, mind you), that he wasn't going to let me go, he would never let me go. I knew that he wouldn't. He told me to maintain three points of contact as I settled in (a classic David boat reminder), and in my heart I knew that I would always have FOUR points of contact -- the fourth being my heart to David. I was so scared that I would sink the boat, that we would go tumbling in, even though I am an ok swimmer and would be able to handle myself if it happened. I was just so scared of all of the thoughts that I'd had growing up about being in a boat, and sinking it, and tipping it, would come to fruition and I would be devastated.

My breathing came back to normal, and the shaking subsided, but my fingers were still locked on the bench below me.  David slowly rowed me out to the middle of the lake, reassuring me the entire time as I faced forward, back to him as he rowed. I still had tears coming from before, but they kept going as I realized, and said out loud to him "I've never been out this far before. I've never seen the lake or any of this from this angle." It floored me. The fact that I had been going to that lake since I was a little girl, and had spent every summer out there since, and had never seen any of those places from that perspective on the water was crazy to me. And it was all because of my fear. I had let my fear hold me back from all of it. The longer we were out there, the more comfortable I felt (even though David had to remind me that I could move my head for the first few minutes...), and I began to really look around, and take it all in. I watched the glassy water underneath us, broken by David's oar. I watched fish swim by, and the trees tower over us, and felt the sun shine on my face as I floated closer to places I'd only seen on opposite shores. It was there, in that tin boat with my sweet husband rowing me around and showing me a world I'd been afraid to open up and see before, that I had the realization that I don't want to live life ruled by fear.

Not ever. Well, only in situations where healthy fear is required. But I'm talking about instances like the boat... Will I go out on the boat again? Of course. Now that I know how safe I felt, and how relaxing and calming it was, you bet I will.  And I will not be scared anymore because I know that I have my three points of contact on anything that I do (and one more with my David). I won't be afraid of taking new steps, having new adventures, saying yes to moments that I would shied away from before, of what people think of me, of feeling left behind because I'm too afraid to keep up... I won't. I don't want to be an old woman who is finally stepping into a boat and floating out to see things a new way. I want to live in the moment, say yes to the moment, and never fear the moment. And I know that I can do this with my sweet husband and amazing friends by myself, and with the strength that I have, that has been in me all along. I want to embrace the joy inside of me, and let it explode out of me in everything that I do. I want to view life from all angles, and when I find myself delighted by a new view before me, I want to stand in awe of it and know that I've let myself go all sorts of places, and take joy in the fact that I can still be surprised. <3

This is me. Letting the joy out, and leaving fear behind.
This is me. Letting the joy out, and leaving fear behind.

Truth be told, I'm eating a Kit-Kat.

Nothing special about that title except for the fact that it's the god-honest truth. And I couldn't come up with anything better, really. That's where I'm at right now. I'm incredibly tired, but I cannot complain at all -- I am not tired because I'm dealing with a sickness, or because I have insomnia, or because I am working two jobs to support my family. I am tired because I have been enjoying my life. :) Yes, you heard me right. I've been filling it with lots of love, and happiness, and adventures, and yummy food. I made it a silent (not so silent anymore, blabbermouthfingers) New Year's awareness, of sorts, to be a little bit more exciting. I was feeling myself settling into the same routines, doing the same things, being a super homebody, and frankly - being a little boring. Don't get me wrong, I love my home, and being there, and relaxing - but I found myself saying no to fun things in favor of doing, well, things that were not as much fun. So I am trying hard to say yes to experiences, and carve out time for adventure (even if it's a small adventure!) Last Friday, I had the opportunity to jump into a huge one of these experiences. And like I said to a kid at school a few weeks ago, sometimes the things that I'm both nervous AND excited for at the same time are the things that I end up having the best time doing. Kristin asked me I would want to go to a spa with her and Constance -- one they had been to before, one that they really liked, and one that scared the crap out of me -- they refer to it as the "Naked Lady Spa". And that's what it is. No swimsuits, no jewelry, nothing to protect you from the eyes and elements of the room. I was nervous, scared, intrigued, and excited. They spoke volumes about their experience there, and about how freeing and wonderful it is. And you know what? They were right! I was nervous all day, but then just decided to not let myself be nervous. I embraced the atmosphere, and literally jumped in with both feet (ok, I didn't jump. I gingerly stepped into the pools.)... It was such a relaxing time. And after awhile, I felt myself just not even thinking about it (which Kristin had told me would happen!). It was an amazing evening, and I'm so happy that I got to share it with two wonderful girls, who made me feel so wonderful!

The next day, David and I ventured to Canada for the weekend. And we had a blast! We did lots of things - went to the aquarium, saw sea otters, did a lot of walking, saw a movie, ate a yummy pizza in our hotel room, braved sashimi --- it was jam packed! I had such a great time, and felt so happy to be on that adventure with my adorable boy-toy, who ALSO makes me feel so wonderful. :)

The last few evenings have been filled with dinner with my besties in Seattle, just chatting about everything that we could, drinking yummy drinks and sharing tasty fries, car dancing to Justin TImberlake (it was INTENSE), trivia with my mom, winning a prize on the radio for the first time in my life, and just enjoying my job.

On the flipside of all of this sunshine came a rain cloud, though. A wonderful man in the life of my best friend was lost this last week, one who I have known for a long time as well. He was an institution in Poulsbo, and in her family, and he will be greatly, greatly missed. He leaves behind an amazing family, however -- one that is stronger than most I have ever come across. I've known that since the day I become an adopted part of it! For my dear bestie Jewel, and her family, my heart is saddened. But it is also encouraged by the knowledge that your strong family is getting even stronger! The Stroud/Evenson clan is a force to be reckoned with. And knowing your grandpa for all of these years, I can see where you all get it!

And so, with the awareness that our lives are simply on loan, and we need to soak up our time we have, I embraced this past week fully. And I vow to do that for more weeks this year. In fact, I'm aiming for about 52 of them.