big sigh

after a beautiful and loud day with family (thanksgiving),

i have spent the majority of the day alone.

working on a resume in photoshop. listening to music. reading. planning.

and it's only seven pm.

i have two weeks of school left - this includes finals week.

then i shall be on break.

::big sigh::

i cannot wait!

retaliating.

my body is retaliating against me.

itchy eyes.

cankersores.

stuffy nose.

hives.

headaches.

:(

p.s. this blog was a hott mess.

i sleep with my head at the foot of the bed. some things are better the opposite way.

i woke up by myself this morning. an hour before my alarm.

rested.

no desire to dig my head underneath my blankets. no resistance to the rising sun.

i woke up cold. like when you press your bare skin against icy glass.

crisp, chilling. cold.

i need to turn on the heater at night. even though turning it on scares me because it drys out my vocal folds. but i'm not a fan of waking up frozen. where to compromise...

my voice is tired. and it may be the changing of seasons. and the allergies. and the post nasal drip. and the general lack of sleep and increase in talking.

fact: i need to drink more water, breathe in steam, &&& sinus rinse the night away.

fact: i need to do a lot more things too, but i'll stick with the small things for now. :)

taking care of oneself is a discipline. you must find yourself worthy of care and time, valuable. you need to step back and recognize the many ways you abuse your mind and body. the way you neglect your soul. and you need to stop beating yourself over the head for taking some alone time*. because self care is not selfish. it's smart. and equips you for all the other things you need to do. and.... you're worth it!

fact: i'm sick of being burnt out. who wants to be burnt out by age twenty? not me. and i'm choosing against this.

*painting. reading. vegging on the couch. praying. hanging out with friends. singing. blogging.

p.s. this blog was a hott mess. forgiveness granted?

tis the season.

everyone* is ignoring their blogs as of late.

and apologizing for doing so to their very dedicated readers.

so for those readers who might still be sticking around or checking this forsaken thought space with a desperate hope that i will write another word.

i apologize.

but i mostly apologize to myself. because writing is [insert beautiful metaphor here that communicates how expressing the deep things i feel by stitching letters together is refreshing and beneficial to my soul].

tis the season for school to pick up its pace and busy schedules.

and so as everyone** checks in with blogdom to inform all, far and near (because we are all nearer than we think), they are still here, i say:

i'm here.

and alive.

and changing.

and experiencing freedom.

which is both painful and rewarding.

* i understand some people will always blog on a consistent basis. and that this is a broad generalization. but sometimes one must cut out things that take up too much time, regardless the pleasure and creativity and wonder these things encourage. too many lists to sort through.

** again with the broad generalizations.

p.s. this post has no picture or video. i know. and i also know this may mean i am a bad blogger. but i already apologized. so we can overlook that, right?

shut up long enough

as of late, in all this busyness, fear has made itself a presence.

a very loud and demanding presence.

and i don't know how to make it shut up long enough for Peace to rush into the lowest parts of me.

quiet my heart with Your love.

call out to the turmoil ''be still.''

make me lie down in green pastures.

above understanding, though i desire it.

above direction and wisdom, though i need it.

i long for You to rush in.

i know You are willing.

so come.

green like limes.

i want to sit outside.

thick mug. floating tea bags.

your face through steam.

cold breath and stars in your eyes.

grassy breeze. green like limes.

springtime at night. winter lingers.

creaking bench beneath the moon.

without pretense. to just be.

every flower

i'm taking time to smell the flowers.

every flower i see.

well, not every flower i see.

but you know what i mean.

and i love her art.

before i was conceived

yes, life is feeling new.

but can i reiterate how newness is so scary.

because it might mean a complete uprooting. and what scares me the most is the possible death of another expectation. a new expectation. because i've been grieving and sifting through the loss of a previous expectation for quite some time now. i can't handle another one. you see, my expectations are linked to huge life things. (though, this might be the crux of the problem. putting things like marriage. ministry. career. all, simultaneously in one single expectation.)

but if i'm not meant to be there with those people. and i'm not to meant to be here with you - you, who have already established exclusively tight knitted relationships with others - then where do i belong? where does my connectedness begin?

and this is why i am so thankful i can put these words in my mouth.

and soon enough in my heart.

" my soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him.

he alone is my rock and my salvation;

he is my fortress, i will never be shaken.

...

find rest, o my soul, in God alone;

my hope comes from him.

he alone is my rock and my salvation;

he is my fortress, i will not be shaken.

my salvation and my honor depend on God;

he is my mighty rock, my refuge.

trust in him at all times, o people;

pour out your hearts to him,

for God is our refuge.

selah

...

one thing God has spoken,

two things have i heard:

that you, o God, are strong,

and that you, o lord, are loving."

psalm 62:1-2, 5-8, 11-12

p.s. i normally hate it when people skip around a passage of scripture, only picking out certain parts that they like. but these are just parts that stuck out to me. and they are true. firm foundations. a refuge built before i was conceived. a refuge waiting for me enter in.

settle in your stomach.

life is new again.

it is like when you drink cold water and you can feel it travel down your esophagus and settle in your stomach.

unbelievably satisfying.

where the horizon should go.

today the sea and sky can't decide where the horizon should go.

they are both sincerely bad with boundaries, a flaw that they both admit is born out of their desire to be closer to the other.

the clouds daring to run its fingers across the icy blue. we call this a thick marine layer. we say that the fog is rolling in. but the sky is just caressing the sea.

and the sea doesn't mind.

the sea billows towards the lofty sun, and crashes loudly. we call these waves. but the sea is in a fit, willing to collapse within itself, willing to forgo the embarrassment to get a little closer then before. and they sky does not laugh or ridicule the seas attempts.

it welcomes them.

mexican part deux

my brother was in town this weekend and filled our fridge and pantry with ingredients that would not normally be there.

arabic bread. (think pita)

feta cheese.

cucumber-corn-tomato-onion-other-tasty-veggie salad.

to name a few...

and in my attempt to stuff said arabic bread, which was falling apart quickly,

i inadvertently turned it into a burrito.

of course, a burrito.

one would expect nothing less of such a refined latina.

i am certain that one day i will find myself doing this very thing in a

restaurant somewhere

suprising someone.

crummy decision

dear vocal folds,

i know you hate me. maybe hate is too strong of a word. but i know you are at least slightly upset and terribly shocked as i put you through five or six hours of singing on sunday. i haven't done that in a long while. it was a crummy decision as far as health goes. but i need you to come back. i'll treat you better. i've let you be mostly silent today. not even expecting a sound. but how i need you!

desperately waiting,

me

when i wake up

sometimes when i wake up,

i throw back my covers to jump into the lap of the Father.

it is oh so safe and wonderful.

and we watch the generous warmth of the sun pour over the city and all who inhabit it.

He tells me these are His children, dearly loved, created in His image.

He wishes they'd jump into His lap some morning.

me too.

chalkdays [pass due]

this is my friend alexis (to the right, to the right).

this summer we went to a park nearby and played with chalk.

there were lots more pictures.

documenting our silliness and our impressive chalk skillz.

(yes, i spelled that with a z. and yes, i am an original gangsta.)

but these will do....

until we strike again.

what what?

vibrant with possibility

today i am

in want of courage.

lots of it.

because desiring an integrated life

[no gaps. no compartmentalization.]

will take that

and much more.

and thankful for

air involuntarily filling and exiting my lungs.

oxygenating my blood.

my muscles.

gas to get to school on a jam packed freeway.

a job with children.

they are vibrant with possibility -

little mozarts

adolescent einsteins

all of them sparkling with destiny.

because we forget that we don't deserve these things.

we aren't entiltled to the luxuries that we've deemed ordinary.

that we expect to be there.

to always be there.

thankyouthankyouthankyou, giver and sustainer of life.

thankfulness the mother of excitement

my freshman year of college i was frightened the most lucid white as i stepped on campus.

i only knew a handful of people. and of those, only knew one really well.

my sophmore year of college i was less frightened.

i still had not made many more friends. i was still a commuter. it was the most challenging year of my life thus far. self-awareness. awareness in general. movement away from things and people that had defined me for far too long.

this is my junior year.

and i am not frightened.

i stepped onto campus for music campus registration.

the sea's breath like a

tornado of

welcoming ribbons

round my body.

overcome with a sense of belonging.

my feet

thick and strong

roots

in the ground

beneath.

and only a handful (or two) of friends.

but i can call them friends.

thankfulness the mother

of excitement.

and i still commute. i will most likely never live on campus. but passing hundreds of cars on the freeway at twenty (or seventy five) miles per hour. filled with people who have big noses and deep set eyes whose lives are intricately complex. is something i love. not to mention the sun hanging brightly in the morning sky between whitest clouds.

a commuter at heart. who prefers a room with one bed. and enjoys the company of none. who is re-energized by solitude. even though it scared her at first. and finds herself drained when spending all day with people. but who is extremely grateful for a shared existence. a community of sinners and saints who are, in their own unique ways - whether they are aware of it or not, reaching for the hem of His garment.

balance, stacey, balance.

a sweet dance. duo.

aloneness.

community.

this year shall be resplendent:

in color

in thought

in movement

[period]

blow my way

i appreciate nights like tonight.

pandora playing.

sweating a little because the AC doesn't blow my way.

when i can use sleeves to my sister's old sweater & some twine to make a headband.

oh, and some thread.

stuff to offer.

as i am typing this post i am listening to:

press play and enjoy.

today is my official last day of summer.

i'm not sure were summer went. or if every moment was spent wisely. and i'm sure wrong choices were made. even if they were just in my mind. or my heart. and nobody really knew about how hard it was and still is to cut ties. but everyone can see that i'm bad at it. even though they don't know it is what i'm up to. but i made good choices. and i'm getting better at it too.

i saw a few movies. started a book club with a few ladies. we are on our second book. the first was alright. i feel like the author was in a rush to finish the book. which made me want to get it over with very quickly. now we are reading "the weight of silence." and it's very satisfying thus far. i didn't go to beach too often. but mostly because summer never really showed up. and the goosebumps never really left. i went out to eat with different people. because they actually had something to say. i started to write more. for my own enjoyment. i drew on sidewalks with a friend. with chalk. and children joined us. i made asparagus and red potatoes and yellow corn. i need to learn how to cook meat. because vegetables are good for ones stomach, but just don't appease my stomach's hunger pangs as does lemon garlic chicken. i basically finished my room. and indulged in creative crafts. i pondered you. and other people. and how life will look soon enough. and how it doesn't really matter how it will look. as long as i'm with jesus. but i still wonder how it will look. because it scares me before i go to sleep. like cobwebs that stick to your hands and hair when you try and comb them away. until i remember that it doesn't matter. it doesn't matter. i started to run. then i stopped. because running is no fun at all. the soreness i don't mind. the early mornings are doable. but i'd rather sit at a park or in a tree. maybe this fall will stitch together, in yellow and orange thread, a love for this healthy pastime. or maybe i'll just start knitting.

and although the interview for this job was a whopping forty minutes long. accompanied with laughter. and well-formulated off-the-top-of-my-head answers. i didn't get the job. i'd be fifteen minutes late for work everyday. i don't understand what the problem would be. :). and even though i need a job, desperately - to fulfill my own desire for more grown-up responsibility. i'm okay with this. the interview went well. and i walked away confident that i have stuff to offer. that i am generous with smiles. that i am somewhat put together. that my words are organized and honest and gentle. and the little girl who tried so hard to achieve and compete for attention and a place can be laid to rest in green pastures. by quiet waters. untouched waters, glass and light and stillness. all goodness buzzing about.

tomorrow i start music camp.

and next wednesday, school.

today is full of hope.

doodads and whatnots: a story of a room in transition

a chair.

twenty five dollars of peach glory.

perfectly soiled.

i keep telling myself i'm going to clean it.

but i don't know how to. heh.

details get me every time.

sometimes accidents are pretty.

right side up.

can't decide if this lamp needs a lampshade.

glass gifts. full of paper scraps. nails. ribbon&loosepearls.

close up.

dad's old water cooler put to good use with some of these.

and did i mention new bedding?

:)

without

while catching up on cold case reruns i made these:

almost one hundred and twenty.

i'll use them for cards and hair pins.

and for decorations.

but i love the way they look on this table.

flowers without stems.

vibrant without water or sunshine.

alive.