"Loose Footing"

Fog spins a tower toward heaven,
Caps of white rage below,
It's hard to remember not everything's fiction,
Such reality should have been known long ago,

Cliffs call coarse tragedies,
Wind and loose rocks toy with fate,
A dreamer cannot dismiss these beauties,
The feral soul cannot help but sensate,

Do we write our own disasters,
Or was this ordered from above?
A curious mind into the ocean clamors,
The sea swallows all but the dove.

Silence. We have to fill it.

I feel kind of quiet tonight -- in a good way -- and as I sit here on my "in dire need of vacuuming" floor, I find myself taking comfort in the silence. Yes, I can hear the consistent stream of traffic out my window, the familiar typing of keys, the murmurs from the other room ... but compared to most of my day, this is silence.

Perhaps, are lives are like this: at times in need of peaceful silence, at other times screaming for excitement. This thought sets the backdrop for my feelings on weather. Most people find sun very pleasing, and yes, this is agreed upon by me as well, but there are times when rain is needed. Think of how the imagination would suffer if it only knew sun? The wind, rain, snow, lightening (all huge concepts for LA) spur different elements of creativity, a different side of thought. Just like not wanting the sun all the time, who has the need for screaming excitement at every moment?

There is a time for silence.

Lately my life is very exciting. Comparing it to weather, it might be measured to the same caliber of an 80 degree, sun-filled day after a particularly freezing winter. This being a blessing, as life should be adventurous and exciting. But as I sit here on this Sunday evening I cannot help but bask in this silence; such space and absence of sound allowing my thoughts to settle like sand in a jar of water -- a good silence.

"Beauty and the Beast" is by far my favorite Disney movie. No contest ...

Lately I have been thinking about it quite frequently as I'm borderline in love with the featured parts of the soundtrack that I listen to repeatedly on Pandora. The issue with the music, though I adore it, is when the lyrics "work in" references regarding The Beast. For example: "Tale as old as time/True as it can be/Barely even friends/Then somebody bends/Unexpectedly/Just a little change/Small to say the least/Both a little scared/Neither one prepared ..." at this point one's thinking "epic lyrics,"then it comes ... "Beauty and THE BEAST." Ugh. Take a word like "beast" and it will ruin a love song pretty much every time.

Aside from the issue of her lover being a beast for the bulk of the film, Belle is by far the "deepest" Disney character. Cinderella is really only concerned with a ball, Ariel will forgo all family ties to be with a man she's only seen once, Sleeping Beauty falls in love in about 30 seconds and runs right into her "spindle-pricking doom," but then there's Belle. A smart girl, different from the rest of her "offbeat" town, a little unsure of her uniqueness, yet willing to be herself -- not to mention she gives up her freedom to set her father free. Belle is a noble character.

Growing up I was entranced with the film. Firstly, at the age of five I may or may not have been aware that Belle was a cartoon. Secondly, I thought she was gorgeous. Thirdly, she was smart and eloquent and liked books. Then fourthly, even at five I was a sucker for love stories, and I thought when she came down the stairs in the gold gown nothing more could have won The Beast.

To accompany my love for the movie I had a "Beauty and the Beast" clock, bedspread, sheets, curtains, pillow, Barbie, etc. Sadly, those items are long gone, but still in my heart, my love for the movie remains.

Apologies for the lull in posts -- it's inexcusable.

Today I would like to feature a recent cooking discovery:

Tortilla Egg Scramble (I made up the name)

2 eggs
A handful of cheese
1 excellent tortilla -- the better the tortilla, the better the recipe
salsa
garlic salt
sour cream

To make: Add a dash of garlic salt to eggs. Pour eggs onto a "pamed" pan. Scramble the eggs until they are almost cooked. Break the tortilla in pieces and add it into the eggs; resume scrambling. Toss a handful of cheese on top; resume scrambling. Place compilation on a plate and top with sour cream and salsa.

Best paired with cinnamon coffee.

This is a brief tribute to the world of hill rolling and dizziness:

The other day Charissa and I rolled down a small grassy knoll and it opened a door in me that's been locked for years. When I was a kid I would always play games conducive to spinning, hence creating the "dizzy effect." It was fantastic: hill rolling, repeated circle spinning, running in tight circles, shutting your eyes and circular dancing (sense a circle theme). The best part was the aftermath: getting up to find that you can't help but fall back down. Who knew that the dizzy, dancing feeling that adults get from falling in love or too much caffeine (or, er -- alcohol) could be created with a simple succession of spins.

Try being a kid again, it's great fun.

For Better or Worse

As an introvert, I like being alone. Now don't get me wrong, I love being with people, I'd much rather be with people than always be alone, but I do treasure alone time. I can sit for hours and simply watch people, nestled in a comfy corner (people watching isn't fun when you're not comfortable). This morning, while writing a paper at Panera (I promise I don't aways study at Panera) I was observing the Panera-goers of Whittier -- the 8:50 a.m. sort.

"HENRY! CALL MARGRET AND TELL HER WE'RE AT PANERA!" Said a well-dressed elderly woman to her husband who was slowly emerging from their black Cadillac.

"WHAT!" He responded in an equally tone death volume.

"TELL MARGRET WE'RE at PANERA'S!"

I laughed to myself, is that what happens after 50 years of being with someone? It starts out with soft commands akin to, "Darling, would you mind telling Margret we're at Panera" in a tone that could be used for "whispering sweet nothings," then I suppose it just evolves from there.

The thing I cannot help but wonder about elderly couples is if they realize how lucky they are to have each other -- I think about that sometimes. But as I watched a 75+ couple walking across the parking lot 20 minutes ago, holding hands, slowly approaching their car, I thought, "they must know they're lucky."

Few things are sweeter to me than elderly couples, I like how comfortable they are with each other, the trusting way they need each other. They have a "I get it" mentality. Meaning, they get that they are together, for better or worse, they've been through bad and good, and they are trusted companions. Sure, not all elderly couples are like this, but it's cute when they are -- even if they're screaming at each other about Margret.

* I took the above photo in Berlin last Fall. See, I'm a sucker for it every time.

God's Plans

This morning I was talking to a close friend about my mixed emotions toward graduation and the future, and like with most meaningful conversations, a specific part struck me.

"Really I just want to drink tea and write all day," I said with exasperation.

"Writing is really what you love isn't it?" She asked.

"Yes, with the occasional run and book, and loving -- I really like loving people."

She looked at me, "Then hold onto that."

I breathe out with uncertainty as I sit here on this mid-Monday morning. I'm listening to the "Dear Frankie" soundtrack and drinking coffee that was accidentally self-sabotaged with too much sugar-free chocolate syrup. I have a million things to do, but I have to take a moment to write, because I love to write, I love it in the way that I could write for eight hours and it would feel like eight minutes. Writing is my joy.

I don't know what I'm doing with my life, and as each day passes into my pending graduation date in December the thought becomes, ironically, considerably foggier. This semester has surprised me in ways that only God can surprise, and my life is turning in untraveled directions, yet I am doing very little to make that happen. I suppose, though I so desperately want more direction, there is nothing more I can do but embrace my dreams and hope, trusting God. "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future" (Jeremiah 29:11).

Though I'm terrified, I'm excited -- soul flying, heart pounding -- the best kind. I don't have a job lined-up, an elaborate plan, and my resume is in dire need of an update; though this behavior goes against my natural inclination, I am genuinely confident God will use my passions. So, for now, I wait.