right.

Today I am not at school.  No reconnecting with old friends, no nestling into my favorite corners on campus, and no cracking of new books.

I'm also not wrestling with a bundle of nerves at the beginning of my student teaching,

I'm not on a flight to Uganda,

I'm not getting married to my best friend,

and I'm not struggling through the first terrifying, invigorating, beautiful first few weeks of my teaching career.

But I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

And today I just needed that reminder.

the things you've missed

I paint my nails.
I wear a watch.
I bought a car
and went to China,
gave yoga a shot.
I've fallen in love
with books and begun hoarding them
in careful stacks
in the corners of my room.
I got bangs
and lost 10 pounds.
I've developed a fondness
for tomatoes,
sushi and tea.
My headaches are gone.
I'm a morning person now.
I enjoy a glass of red wine,
old movies,
the occasional memoir.
I suspect I'll need glasses soon.
I got pneumonia,
learned to cable,
confirmed my coffee addiction.
And I've finally begun to see the beauty in uncertainties.

Just so you don't get too behind.

restless.

So it's been a while, eh?

I am going to try my very best to get back into this whole blogging business. First of all, because it is just good for me to write, no matter how trivial the posts may seem. And second of all, because I think it helps, in a small way, for me to think through things a bit. Even if the thoughts are still half formed and sloppy when they find their way here.

So, here goes.

I tend to keep my life full to the brim with jobs, classes, volunteer opportunities, etc, etc. Although my nerves are constantly frayed, I find a strange comfort in it all. But whenever I find the time to just be still, this awful, gnawing restlessness sets in. Because in those quiet places I start to wonder if all this responsibility is worth it in the end.

So here I sit, three days into Christmas break, and already my mind is ill at ease.

Maybe it's the wine. But I don't think so.

Revelation: I am afraid of waves. Ripples, even. And unbeaten paths. And risks or unexpecteds or spontaneous, irresponsible actions with unclear consequences.

Revelation #2: I don't think I'm ok with that.

For the last year or two I've enjoyed tossing around all these lofty ideas of what I could do after I graduate. Working with a dear friend as she provides a loving home for disabled orphans in Uganda, moving to a big city (just because I can), teaching English in Europe and traveling anywhere and everywhere on the weekends... For the first time in my life the possibilities and adventure were intoxicating rather than frightening.

But now, a year out from that freedom, I find myself rifling through all the "what-ifs" and the "buts", leaning towards the much safer, more responsible, more predictable route of settling into a job here, at home. Staying with my parents to save money if need be. Doing what I'm supposed to do.

When a friend mentions that we should go on a road trip for spring break, I immediately spring into my excuses about money, working, and making sure I'm rested when we spring back into classes.

When I try to clear my plate a bit for the coming semester, I find myself guilt-ridden about leaving one of my jobs and completely unable to turn down new responsibilities that people want to throw my way for fear of letting them down.

Vomit.

I think it's a little bit sad that tagging along on my dad's business trip to China is an adventure for me.

But I think it's a start.

hollow.

A gorgeous bouquet of pink roses and lilies, dinner at a classy waterfront restaurant where the sun set and the sailboats slid by, and he opened every door. Perfection.

Then he asks to steal a kiss as his truck idles at the foot of my driveway.

Memories come flooding back. Past loves I knew inside and out. When they held me they held ALL of me: the lovely, unique, ugly, quirky, and flawed.

What did this stranger want to kiss?

So shyly I smile, shake my head, and feel my heart turn heavy as I trudge up the driveway.

One day I'll get the real thing.

secret recipe.

This post has been percolating for quite a while, now. First the hustle and bustle of finals got in the way, then my refusal to do anything that felt remotely productive for the first few official weeks of summer vacation. I may be biased, but I think I earned it. :-)

Anyways... I have a sneaking suspicion that I've written about this before. Please bear with me if that's the case... Also, please forgive any cheesiness. I was having too much fun with the metaphor. Ha.

But I have this terrible tendency to want to skip the journey. Forget baby steps. If I could, I would teleport myself to the finish line this very second. It's the reason that I don't like starting big projects or papers unless I know I can finish them quickly. Leaving things half-finished makes me feel inadequate. So I try to find the quickest way to lay it all to rest, and in doing so I bypass the lessons I need to learn to actually be able to conquer it all. This habit of rushing through challenges obviously makes for some pretty big messes.

It's like baking with a child. They don't know that you have to crack eggs carefully to keep shells out of the dough. They don't know that you need to cream together the butter, sugar, and vanilla separately before you add the dry ingredients. They don't know that you need to add the flour gradually. And they, of course, have absolutely no patience to learn these things. They want to start heaping things in the bowl to just get to the cookies already, goshdangit! So you have to pry the wooden spoon from their tiny fingers of steel and ask them (to no avail) to be patient, please, and don't eat all the chocolate chips or there won't be any in the cookies! Generally such endeavors end with grimy hands, flour EVERYWHERE, and a tearful tantrum on the kitchen floor.

I am that child.

Thankfully I am blessed to have a wise, godly, loving, caring woman in my life to remind me how bad the cookies turned out last time. Despite her busy life, she makes the hour drive from home to school every Thursday just to pour love into my life and support me in my walk. Here in this blog I will call her Mother Willow (Or Mama W for short. Because that's just more fun.).

So it was a typical Thursday a few weeks ago when I began spouting out my plans to Mama W about how I was going to make it to the finish line when she did just that. She gently reminded me that maybe, just maybe, I needed to stop my plotting and listen to my Heavenly Father. After all, it's his secret recipe.

Immediately I felt silly. How many times had I found myself in the midst of one of these self-made messes? And still I hadn't learned to take my grubby little hands out of it. Immediately I got that image of myself sitting in the middle of my Heavenly Father's big old kitchen of life with floury tears rolling down my cheeks. How frustrated must he be with me?

I detailed the whole thing for Mama W, and she listened patiently in that wise way of hers. How I felt like a child and was frustrated with myself for all the frustration I must be causing Him and all the people that have to eat my rock hard, eggshell encrusted cookies. I realized how disappointed He must be with me. After all, no matter how much you love your child, during those temper tantrums you have to admit they're a bit of a brat.

When my words finally ran dry, she smiled simply and said, "Katie, He's just happy you're in the kitchen."

Thank God my Papa is patient. :)

solitude.

So many thoughts swimming around, but I'll wait to spill them out another day. For now I have only one. And that is this:

I LOVE time to myself. Possibly an unhealthy amount. To the point that I am wondering if this is something I need to work on. Something to ponder this summer, I suppose. For now I'll just enjoy. :)

My mantra for the summer?

"Cherish your solitude. Take trains by yourself to places you have never been. Sleep alone under the stars. Learn how to drive a stick shift. Go so far away that you stop being afraid of not coming back. Say no whenever you don't want to do something. Say yes if your instincts are strong, even if everyone around you disagrees. Decide whether you want to be liked or admired. Decide if fitting in is more important than finding out what you're doing here. Believe in kissing."
-Eve Ensler

Dear heart of mine,

If you could, just this once, be rational. Please?

Love always,

The rest of me.