New Years Resolutions: Just be me

Sorry, I'm a procrastinator. Sorry, but I'm not really sorry.  

I decided to approach this year a little bit different. Maybe it's over-compensation for having no real motivation to better myself. But I also don't believe that's entirely true. 
I do want to better myself, but I don't want the new year to tell me that's what I need to do. 

So instead of goaling myself to lose 10 pounds, something I'd love to do. I'm not setting myself up for disaster with January 1. The reality is, I probably will lose 10 pounds but not because of a resolution. 

I just want to be me. I want to look at myself at the end of this year and recognize the woman I am and think, "this year, she was finally herself, not trying to mirror someone else or beat herself up for not being perfect when everyone else seems to be living this fabulous life." 

This years resolutions will go a little something like this. 

1. Eat more Chocolate 
2. Shave my legs less 
3. Snort 
4. Go out of the country. 
5. Search for home. 


You get the point. In the coming of the new year, I only want to be me, something I feel is a goal in itself. 

I also decided if learn something, that will be an accomplishment for 2014. 

On January first, I learned how to make a successful poached egg.  Score!!! 

Things I've already done since January 1. 

1. Learned to make a poached egg.
2. Gone out of the country. Mozambique. 
3. Had more family's dinners. 
4. Learned about a coconut 
5. Read 2 books, almost done with a third. 
6. Applied for three jobs. 

I'm sure there is more, but I'm blanking at the moment. 

Organizing: mind, spirit and life.

Do you ever have the problem to where you have one thing churning in your mind?  

You want to release it but lack of energy, motivation, or even tools seems to win. Then in conjunction, corresponds with the rest of your ideas, existence, or being. That this one thing manages to manifest into the simple, less thought-provoking things and that fixation that you still haven’t done the one thing you were wanting to do in the first place hasn't been done. Yet somehow,it effects the day-to-day and everything else manages to be placed on the back burner.

That’s how I feel with most aspects in life. Not just metaphorically but the physical, the spiritual, and the emotional.

I decided to put the one big thing that’s been churning at me, the one thing that I want to get out and explain, I decided to take the pressure away and start working on the little things.

Besides, isn’t it the little, small things that begin to add up? It’s the small things that become overlooked until we’re drowning in small issues and tasks that just originally needed to be pruned and maintained a bit. But they add up, and then restoration has to happen. Often times stripping the entire piece just to get to the core of what it is and start over.

Wow, I wasn’t intending to pour all this out.

I wanted to take the time to show you some of the details in my room in South Africa. Nothing fancy, just a couple visuals. 

please note the crooked lamp. it just doesn't want to stay straight. 

some random crafting + painting. had some bad dreams one night and decided to paint a dream catcher. 

postcard from time spent with my friend ashley in boston + a note for Jayde's wallet

tink the cat + perfect window lighting 

A S L U T: t u l s a

Home sweet place I resided from the ages of 0 to 18 and some change.

*please note: this post drags on... 

It's always strange going back. 

I'm  a Midwestern.  Born and raised in Tulsa, Oklahoma-- in a city, nonetheless. I still appreciate sweet tea and lightning bugs and that slower draw that most men seem to develop by the time they are grown men. Women can hide it some but the men, nearly impossible.

I don't ever get to spend a lot of time in Oklahoma; nor do I ever see half the people I want to see. It's always a secret affair. I see a few close people and I'm grateful for that. I get to catch up and it's like I never left. Minus the fact that in the last 5 years the city has change dramatically. In 10 years time, I probably won't recognize the place.

A little recap to humor myself and compartmentalize memories labeled "The Oklahoma Box."

My dear friend Benjamin Woolslayer fetched me at the airport early morning. First things I told him "I need a hug and coffee." All were delivered and the 15 minutes he listened to me vent about the last 12 hours of my life from what I consider airport hell. I caused a ruckus screaming the F-word more times than I can count. Not my finest, but all considered it was well deserved. We drove to Wild Fork in Utica Square and had breakfast outside.  We went back to where he stays and talked and chilled for hours in a room surrounded by books at art.

I used to go over to Ben's house every day in High school. I never knocked on the door, I always walked in. To some this might be considered rude, but it was the routine. I went to his room or the studio in the garage and would just listen to him play guitar for hours and every so often a random band he was playing music with at the time.  But this time around, instead of music, we filled our time with spiritual discussions.

Later on he dropped me off at a coffee shop called Shades of Brown where I met the lovely Marisa Brown who is a Graphic Designer and dreams of being an art teacher. She's another high school friend of mine. I adore her. We click and always pick up where we left off. She's one of those gals you just want to keep in your life for forever, no matter the distance. I always randomly send her craigslist job offers in southern california or the weather update. I'm still attempting to convince her to move closer to me. Selfish? Maybe. But I think there are a lot of benefits for her... As in the beach... and me? haha

We chatted for hours and the time flew to what seemed like a short amount of time until later that night I received a text message. "We were there for four hours, I'm really embarrassed."

I laughed.

I met Marisa the first week of school. There was a fire drill.  I still didn't know anyone at my school and we were standing around outside. She was in my Spanish class. We kept looking at each other awkwardly. Smiling, both not really knowing what to approach the matter. Then it happened. We introduced ourselves and the rest if history. Match made in heaven.

After, Lor picked me up and we went to Elote. A place that never existed when I lived in Tulsa but now seems to be a favorite of mine every time I visit. I loved spending the weekend with Lor. We ate lots of food, chatted lots, went garage saling, planned some crucial things in her life, went to a wedding and church, explored downtown Tulsa, took pictures, and partook in the "Bridesmaid" frenzy. We laughed, we cried. We cried and we laughed. We cried while laughing. We laughed while crying. Catch my drift.

Then again, we laughed and cried for 45 minutes in the scene from "Garden State" when Zach Braff drives away with the gas nozzle still in his car. We have strange humor.

Lor is my best friend of 17 years. Crazy? She is my soul sister.

I'm going to speed my thought process up.

I went to Oklahoma because my friends John and Rachel were getting married. Finally after 5 or 6 years.  They got married in our home church and it was fabulous. They pulled off a great day and it was so great to celebrate with them.  As well as see hundreds of people I grew up with. You Oklahomans have a special place in my heart and continue to make me feel loved. I can't thank you enough for always opening your homes to support my cause to visit. Or offering yours homes to me as a bribe to visit. My favorite was the lakehouse offer.

One of the eyeopeners of my trip was Sunday Morning at Foundations Church. My old Youth pastors' Justin and Casey started Foundations with the support of many generous supporters who believed in the cause of this church. God's doing some pretty awesome things there and the people there have such servant hearts. But as I'm standing there for praise and worship I search around the auditorium and see random people from my youth group. Not random, people I grew spiritually with. People I learned about God and perspective and what it means to fall and be redeemed. They've seen me at my best and worst.  Some of us just visiting from the wedding and others who have made Foundations their Church. Some even in the Worship band.

A lot of this trip was reflection based. In high school on Wednesday before service and Saturday before Sunday service we would meet in prayer in a darkened room with praise and worship blasting. These are people I prayed with and experienced with. I was so greatful to be connected to them once again.

I've never been more proud of the people I grew up with.

I often times long to be in those dark corners crying my eyes out wondering why things are as they are or crouched on my knees awing at the existence of God and how marvelous he is. I often long to just sit and be in the presence of God and watch my friend's, Mimo, Chocolate, Will, Lindsey, John and various others hearts break for the world around them.  All wanting to change the world and they are. We're grown up now.  Ahh and some of us are married or engaged. Is that even allowed?

Should we still be toilet papering peoples houses and staying up figuring out our place in the world together.

We are dispersed. Some close and some far.

They've changed my world and I couldn't be more blessed.

Weekend randoms- Enjoy. 

... and they fell into love

Culturally confused—directionally confused. It all runs together.

Finding home.

I’ve seen and done this all before.

I take a challenge and see where it leads me.

This post is mainly inspired by Dorynda Venable, a lovely lady who I’ve known since I was a wee tween… I say wee but let’s be honest. I was at fatty. Anyway that’s beside the point. As well as inspirational because of Ashley Wells most recent Midwest post. In a way, her and I have flip-flopped in life.  I did the whole “Grapes of Wrath” move and she did opposite.

The point is I’m always at this point in defining home.

The first move that I ever remember making was from Tulsa, OK to Costa Mesa, California. Let’s not even talk about all the differences that didn’t occur to me until about a year later.

But minus the familiarity—there was different lingo and terminology. I’ve now adapted to saying “Like” after, well let’s go with every single syllable. But surprisingly rarely ever use the word “like” when typing. Another thing that Californian’s do is say “Soda.” Us Midwesterners use the word “Pop”

Which together makes Sodapop but there often times controversy. With that being said, I find myself having to adapt over little things. The problem arises when I become culturally confused.

I say “Pop” in California and “Soda” in Oklahoma.  And find judgment upon me wherever I go. Naturally, it is all petty but it still strikes a cord.

The Challenge.

I mentioned challenge earlier; since I can remember I have this strange fascination with going to new place, outside of my comfort level, typically where I don’t really know anyone and make a home with the new.

Moving to California, I didn’t know anyone.  I didn’t even like Vanguard University when I visited. I just knew God clearly told me to go.  Challenge accepted.

I had no car. No familiarity. I got pot-lucked in a shoebox dorm with 2 other best friends and prayed for the best.  I was blessed with lifelong friendships. 

Fast-forward:

Five years after Vanguard. One and a half years after my first African “challenge.” I come back for 3 months, alone, with the plan of having a lack of plan.  Always through these “challenges” I find God always has an ulterior motive that I look back and think “ahhhh that’s why I’m really here.”

I’m still waiting for the AHA moment. 

A constant state of confusion

In my last 2 months I have found myself in South Africa, Mozambique and Zimbabwe.

South African’s or Afrikaans people use phrases like

“Just now” – which does not really mean just now to an American.

“Nie”—no—a phrase that I hear quite often from an almost 3 year old girl.

“Lekker” – nice, good great, tasty, et cetera.

“hey”- Using “hey” after every phrase or question.

My first few weeks, I find myself getting acclimated to the Afrikaans way. Then I go to Mozambique and we switch to Portuguese and random shona, etc…

“Nao” – No

“Obrigada”- Thank you

“muito bom”

“Ny a la”- the spelling is off and I believe it’s shona. “I don’t want to”

There was this little boy and I was attempting to tell him “No” and I yelled “Nie” instead of “Nao.” That was the first instance of cultural confusion.

Crossing the border from Mozambique to Zimbabwe. I kept saying “Obrigada.” Zimbabwe uses the US dollar and a good number speak English, NOT Portuguese.

Then staying in Zimbabwe, I stayed with this awesome family, Paul and Melinda Grobler who lived in South Africa for a while. With that being said, in Zimbabwe there was a switch back to Afrikaans lingo.

By this point in time, I was beside myself.

"That's quite Lekker, hey?" -- first instinct

spoken- "I like that a lot."  

When will this madness end?

Aside from mis-responding and now responding to things in my head and then re-translating them into my typical American lingo, I like where I am. 

And love the people I've encountered. 

Especially this Laubscher family that keeps finding me on their doorstep for extended periods of time.