New Life

I remember first watching this episode... I was all ready for another cutesy episode, maybe an update on Bing or Darcy........what I was not expecting was for a cute little vlog series to ask "tough questions" about my life choices.  At the time I was 22, living at home, working a safe job.  And sweet as can be, Jane waltzes in asking "What's keeping you here?"  I think I gasped.  I remember feeling like I had walked into a wall.  For the next year, I was asking that question of so many areas of my life.
Living at home (which is not at all bad but sometimes, as Jane points out, a defense mechanism)?  I moved out and into a flat with a my best friend.  I spent time and money on crafting a space.  I learned a little bit of how to live with someone - it's an art!  There were Doctor Who marathons and parties and so many late night conversations ending in simultaneous laughter and tears.
Stuck in relationships running on separate tracks?  I made new friends and realized that being single did not mean I couldn't have fun.  There were road trips and "Galentines" and endless movie nights.  And my friends were amazing on days that weren't.  When I was visiting a friend and received some bad news, she ran the whole gamut in caring for me - tissues, talking, going out on the town, cozying up in sweats to watch Once Upon a Time.  On a particularly bad night I walked into my flatmate's room, showed her my phone screen and her response was, "I'll go get the wine and dark chocolate."  My sister took me out one day and just sat with me in a silence that acknowledged things were not "okay" - and that it was "okay" to feel that way.
And then the big one... What about going back to school?  From the time I was rejected from Oxford, it took me a year and a half to answer that question.  I wrestled with it.  I so badly wanted back into that world, but was so afraid at the same time.  Afraid of spending more emotional energy only to hear "no."  Afraid of moving away.  Afraid of how much work it would take.  But one day, I was sitting across from my boss and I just knew the answer.  I had to go back to school.  And it was grueling.  This time a year ago... whew.  Let's just say, I am still shocked I am in grad school.  Shocked, but so grateful.

The people I look up to have moved boldly to disentangle themselves from anything keeping them safely nestled in the status quo.  They embrace change without fear and keep working through the mundane and the high-pressure without losing sight of their goal.  I want to live like that.  I want to be with people who live like that, and for me that question begins with "What's keeping you here?"  Now, I feel like I am in the place and doing the work that is not "keeping" me back, but propelling me forward...and it's one wild ride!

One month.

One month from today, I'm packing up my worldly goods and heading down I-5 to begin a new season.

It's beginning to feel very real.

It's so good and so exciting!  I absolutely cannot wait for a new pace of life, a new way of being.  There will be things I've missed - like books and discussions and OED access.  For the first time, I will be living alone.  And, since I'll be an Oregonian, there will be no sales tax and no pumping gas for 2 whole years.  I'm trading the corporate for a classroom and a bus commute for a 5 minute bicycle ride.  It's not going to be like undergrad and it's not going to be like working full time.  It's going to be wonderfully new!

At the same time, I'm leaving dear friends--the kind I feel comfortable around whether we're dressing up and going out or just popping up for a spontaneous movie night.  Instead of that relational ease, I'll be starting over from scratch to forge a new community.  Not to mention that I'll be moving even further away from a certain fellow.  But it's all enough to make me a little teary-eyed when I stop to think about it.

It's daunting and exciting and crazy and marvelous--all at the same time.  I'm so close, with so much yet to do.  But when I get into my car and leave the town I have always called home, I know it's just a turning page, just a new incredible chapter.  And I can't wait to discover what's written there.

Lately...

Due to unforeseen circumstances, Adaptation Week got delayed.  It will still be happening! I have (at least) 3 more installments for you.  But I've been busy living - which is wonderful, but not so conducive to consistent blogging.

A few random updates:

//  Life has been "everything, all at once" lately.  While it can be emotionally taxing, it simultaneously makes me feel more alive.  It's like a peony blooming.

//  In other news, I turned 24!  24 is one of those ages where you imagine "life" happening.  And, the funny thing is, life is happening.  It's a constant adventure - never certain, never satiating.

//  Last month I wrapped my first-ever Lent.  I thought I would mention it before now, but didn't know how to casually bring it up.  Like, "hey, I'm not doing [this] right now, but it's all good."  Now that it's concluded, it's easier to talk about.  I went to my first Ash Wednesday service and received the imposition of ashes.  I started a list on the first day, a list of specific things I was praying for in my life or the lives of people I love.  And it was incredible to watch things actually change or move while I was praying for them.  It was, not coincidentally, one of the most potent seasons I've had in long while.  I will certainly be participating in Lent in the future.

//  My younger sister posted a bunch of great pictures of our niece and nephews, including this one:

//  Speaking of my younger sister, we've decided sunny days are for picnics and silliness

//  I have been doing a lot of research and re-evaluation lately.  They've led me to some incredible authors and bloggers.  One of them, Sarah Bessey, did somewhat of a series of open letters to those leaving evangelicalism, to those who stay, and to pastors. I find peace and a piece of myself in each of these.

//  This is the most Seattle-esque proposal, and I can't stop watching it...

Zac & Kiri - The Proposal from Zac Schwiet on Vimeo.

Nearly out of the dark...

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And this is why I love my city...

West by Northwest: City Lights from Edward Aites on Vimeo.

2013: Opportunities

At the beginning of 2013,  the Lord spoke to me about how this year meant "opportunity."  And He was so right!

"Opportunity," however, is not all a rosy.  It involves a lot of variables.  There are risks to be taken.  There are often multiple opportunities vying for priority, and adulthood means having to pick a card and hope you picked right.  Opportunity is about risk with the chance of reward.

But when looking up "opportunity" in the dictionary, the word I found over and over was "favorable."  Opportunity is "a favorable, appropriate, or advantageous combination of circumstances; a chance or prospect."  Like a mountain concealed by clouds, I believe favor is still there, guiding me.  Even in silence.  Even in pain.  

This year I've learned that opportunity can come in all shapes and sizes.  In 2013, it looked like...

...going red.
...going short.
...less money in my savings account than I'd like.
...filling up journals and blog drafts faster than I could possibly process experiences.
...#refusetobeacog, etc. Generally raging against the machine, in search of something deeper.
...being moved to tears by a simple song lyric.
...belting out said song lyrics in a park with tens of thousands of others, led by Mumford & Co.
...sitting on the kitchen floor sobbing my guts out because of narrative and because, no matter how made up it is, it's true.
...having wonderful adventures with visiting friends.
...just doing "it."
...riotous run-ins with bus admirers.
...accepting titles I had always been afraid of [see, "writer"].
...writing in rounds.writing for release.
...opening up to someone, but him them pursuing someone else.
...fireworks.
...meeting artists I'd been inspired by.
...cubicle parties and embracing dress-up more than ever before!
...facing people I've been afraid of fears.
...a lot of Baggins vs. Took inner wrestling.
...having my own bathroom for the first time in my life.
...walking through vineyards, through the streets of Nob Hill, and through countless bookshops.
...finding myself in one of those bookshops with news that blindsided me, rendering me unable to even buy a book - all of them hurt somehow.
...picnics by the lake with good friends.
...moving out with my best friend.
...bearing friends' dreams and burdens and hopes and joys. 
...waiting on the Lord
...new revelations on stewardship - body, soul, and spirit.
...road trips for record books. 
...a lot of Doctor Who.  all. the. feels!
...flexing the forgiveness muscle.
...flexing the humility-and-asking-forgiveness muscle.
...challenging myself to go beyond what I thought myself capable of.
...a lot of "self-induced" late nights.
...inconveniences.  "An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered..."
...meeting lots of new fantastic(al) characters.
...learning that the Lord is the only one I can implicitly and whole-heartedly trust.

 
It's been one blaze of a year - peaks and valleys and everything in between.  But, as Sheldon Vanauken said, "If there were a choice – and he suspected there was – a choice between, on the one hand, the heights and the depths and, on the other hand, some sort of safe, cautious middle way, he, for one, here and now, chose the heights and the depths."  

Here are to all the opportunities you & I have had this year, and here's to all the ones coming in 2014!

And some days, you just have to roll the melancholy music...

I will swallow my pride.

You're the one that I love

And I'm saying goodbye

And I've seen your flag on the marble arch

But love is not a victory march

It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

There is a house built out of stone

Wooden floors, walls, and window sills
Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust
And this is a place where I don't feel alone

On letters

Over the weekend, I was organizing papers and files and clearing out a bin for a (long awaited) lager space to keep out notes, cards, and letters.  I didn't have time to re-read as much as I would have liked to, but the snippet here, the postcard there made me so happy.  I'm a spoiled girl, with letters from England, Spain, Germany, New Zealand, and all across the United States. 

 

This morning, one of my favorite bloggers posted "Why We Should Write Letters Again, Please."   This is a conversation my older brother and I have had many times.  They last.  Letters mean more.  [Just see Letters of Note.] The time they take to compose, the tangibility they convey, the distance they close - they mean so much to both parties.

As Fall is now decidedly upon us, and the natural inclination to stay close to the hearth has settled in our hearts, consider "posting" something more memorable than a message or tweet. 

"The proper definition of a man is an animal that writes letters" - Lewis Carroll

"How wonderful it is to be able to write someone a letter! To feel like conveying your thoughts to a person, to sit at your desk and pick up a pen, to put your thoughts into words like this is truly marvelous." - Haruki Murakami

"I have now attained the true art of letter-writing, which we are always told, is to express on paper exactly what one would say to the same person by word of mouth." - Jane Austen

31 days of Books: Picture of Dorian Gray

Today marks the half-way point of my 31 days project (I started 9/30) - yippee!  Thank you all for reading and commenting.  There's pretty much nothing that makes me happier than other people reading a book I love!  So, thank you all :)

Also, (more to come on this, but) this weekend I got to see a first edition copy of today's book - autographed by the author!  Oh my word!!

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Title:  The Picture of Dorian Gray

Author:  Oscar Wilde

Published:  1890

Year I read it:  2011

One sentence summary:  Corrupted Dorian Gray has a portrait that mutates and warps to show the state of his soul, while physically he gets to remain young, rich, and handsome.

Interesting fact:  Wilde's only novel.

Three reasons to read it:

• The prologue [see below].  I don't agree with all these statements.  I don't even like all of these statements.  But I love that Wilde compiled these statements!  They move me to think about what art is and what power it has.
• The story is a classic and I hear it alluded to all the time.  I was recently in a business meeting where one of the younger professionals scolded everyone else for not getting a reference from it.  I nodded in agreement.
• The novel is intriguingly autobiographical.  Wilde himself later referred to this book when reflecting on his own life.  

One reason you maybe shouldn't:

• Dorian Gray sleeps around, steals, murders and is in general a very corrupt, tragic figure.  Be forewarned.

Great quotes: [several of which I don't support... they're just Wilde being witty]

“Experience is merely the name men gave to their mistakes.”

“There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.” 

“I am too fond of reading books to care to write them.”  

“Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing.” 

“Men marry because they are tired; women, because they are curious: both are disappointed.” 

Preface

The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things. 

The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. 

Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only beauty. 

There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all. 

The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass. 

The nineteenth century dislike of romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass.  

The moral life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium.  

No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true can be proved.  

No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style.  

No artist is ever morbid.  

The artist can express everything. Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art. Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art.  

From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the actor's craft is the type.  

All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril.  

It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors.  

Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital. When critics disagree, the artist is in accord with himself.  

We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely. 

All art is quite useless.

31 Days of Books: The Age of Innocence

Title:  The Age of Innocence

Author:  Edith Wharton

Published: 1920


Year I read it:  2011

One sentence summary:  It's the Golden Age of New York and on the eve of his engagement with the prim and perfectly conventional May Welland, Newland Archer is introduced to her mysterious cousin, Countess Ellen Olenska - only to be plunged into a struggle between duty and desire, honor and honesty.

Interesting fact: 

Three reasons to read it:

• With a few exceptions, I vastly prefer British authors to American ones (if I count correctly, 17 of my 31 books are by British authors - with several others by immigrants to Britain).  But this book is one of those exceptions: Edith Wharton is the "most British" American author I've read.  Her writing here is excels in the same way British writing excels.  [This may seem vague to some, and it is hard to pinpoint.  There is just something about her writing that, even though her subject is American, her approach feels British.]
• One of the more sinister evils of the world is hypocrisy - especially in societies that make everything appear one way when the reality is different (like our own?).  This book explores that in what I would call the American version of Victorian-Prudishness.  It's hinted at in the quasi-ironic title, but The Age of Innocence was more about the appearance of innocence, even while men kept mistresses and their wives pretended everything was perfect.  Though fictional, this book challenged me (and my comfort zone) in regards to how real and authentic I and my community are.  [I'm all for "speaking the truth in love" - but especially for the "speaking the truth" part.  I'd rather it be real and ugly for a while than an insecure facade just waiting to crash.  #endrant.]
• This is another one of those books where the ending made it for me!  I was plugging along near the end, wondering how they would wrap it up and pondering what rating I'd give it on goodreads (out of 5 stars... is it weird I think that way when reading?).  Anyway, I was thinking this is a solid 3 stars - engaging, well written, good characters.  And then bam!  It's subtle, but startling.  For me, it was the perfect way to end the book.  All that to say, I gave it 4 stars, just because of the ending.
  

One reason you maybe shouldn't:

• This is sensitive subject material.  What is adultery?  Is it only physical?  What about emotional adultery?  Between a guy and a girl, where is the line between a friendship and something more?  Who's fault is  _____?  There are a lot of things in this book that appear grey, but Wharton makes them multifaceted and, therefore, more real.

Great quotes:

“Each time you happen to me all over again. ” 

“The real loneliness is living among all these kind people who only ask one to pretend!”  

“We can't behave like people in novels, though, can we?” [AH! The meta!!]

“In reality they all lived in a kind of hieroglyphic world, where the real thing was never said or done or even thought, but only represented by a set of arbitrary signs.”

"There they were, close together and safe and shut in; yet so chained to their separate destinies that they might as well been half the world apart."

"[he was] bursting with the belated eloquence of the inarticulate.”  [This is the best description I've ever read of the sensation of l'esprit de l'escalier.]

“It was the old New York way...the way people who dreaded scandal more than disease, who placed decency above courage, and who considered that nothing was more ill-bred than 'scenes,' except those who gave rise to them. ” 


“And you'll sit beside me, and we'll look, not at visions, but at realities.” 

“Everything may be labelled- but everybody is not.”

“And all the while, I suppose," he thought, "real people were living somewhere, and real things happening to them ...”

[via]

Do you ever get overwhelmed with the reality of existence?  The weightiness of life?  Like you can glimpse some bit of eternity or something.

I've only heard a bit about the turmoil in Egypt.  I read about accidental deaths or murders on a daily basis.  I see hatred in the world. 

I also see love.  I see people do beautiful things.  Even simple acts sometimes make me want to cry.  I see contagious vulnerability and it makes me want to live transparently, generously, humbly. 

Sometimes it seems to be too much.  There is so much of every extreme in this world.  We've found a million ways to divide humanity and only a handful to unite.  That handful of reasons are strong though.  I'm realizing more and more that God doesn't view us through our divisions.  He didn't see the woman at the well as "a Samaritan."  He doesn't see Egyptians or Americans.  He doesn't see race the way we do.  He sees His family - both those who are lost and those who have been found by Him.  We can be so harsh, so critical.  What if I was born in Syria rather than the US?  What if I was a druggie-baby in foster care?  What if I lived in poverty with little educational encouragement?  I am immensely grateful for where and when God placed me.  But how can I take pride in something I had no control over?  So who am I to judge?

The Lord has been speaking to me about seeing the sameness rather than seeing the differences.  I want to love all his people.  This leads some people to think I'm over-sensitive.  But when you truly empathize with another human being - how could I not be sensitive when people say such harsh things about them or, even worse, when they completely ignore them?   I'm not perfect at this.  More than not, I probably do incredibly insensitive things.  I know I don't empathize enough.  If I did, I'm pretty sure my priorities would look completely different.  But I am listening to Father, and I'm allowing Him to change my priorities - if ever so slowly.  But even when it's painful - I'm grateful.  Because when it comes down to it, there is not much of a difference between me and the overlooked, unloved people so far away. 

Today, this is my glimpse of life.  It is a weight on my soul.  But it is also a gift.

There is no great difference between us.  In the words of GK Chesterton:  “We are all in the same boat, in a stormy sea, and we owe each other a terrible loyalty.”

Questions

Ours is NOT a blind faith. 

"The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith is the firm foundation under everything which makes life worth living.  It's our handle on what we can't see."

Or according to the Amplified, faith is "the assurance (the confirmation, the title deed) of the things we hope for, being the proof of things we do not see, and the conviction of their reality."

So faith is not the absence of intellectual engagement.  Rather it is a stake in the invisible.  The soul's confirmation of an unfulfilled promise.

Christ didn't require that people shut off their minds, only that they quiet them and be open-minded enough to think in new ways.  To consider "re-birth."  To try "casting their nets" on the opposite side of the boat. 

In literature, there is a profound phenomena called "the suspension of disbelief."  A homo sapien, a being defined by rationality & creativity, can choose to abandon what they know of reality to enter and enjoy a story with fantastical components.  In this way, children fly to Neverland on fairy dust and a happy thought.  In this way, superheroes fight off aliens, toys come to life, and halflings save a distant world.  We are able to enjoy and even engage rationally with these narratives when we hush the voice that says, "That could never happen."

Faith acts in the same way.  But rather than reading, listening, or watching a story unfold, rather than merely "identifying" with a character, Christ invites us, dares us to enter the narrative for ourselves.  To suspend our disbelief and walk with a conviction of the reality that we hope for.  Like the best novelists, He has crafted a narrative we can trust - but not one devoid of questions.  There may come a day when we think "I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened." There are, like in so many of our favorite stories, times when we wonder or question or even doubt.

And yet this is faith to.

We choose to believe "It isn't what it is" - that there is a deeper magic.  But we also choose to engage with the narrative and the Narrator deeply enough to ask the haunting questions.  For in seeking the answer, in wrestling with the Angel, in crying out with anguish, like David before us - in these moments faith is made real.  We draw nearer to Father.  We discover our real name.  We exchange the "title deed" for the Promised Land. 

"A desk is a dangerous place from which to view the world."

- John le Carre

I agree.  But it's my view right now.

And some days feel (to borrow John Green's phrasing) "existentially fraught."

Well, most of you know that.

I've talked with you. Texted you.

You've read my ranty blog posts.

I keep saying this, but the problem isn't my job, per se.

I enjoy most of what I get to do and the people I work with.

I'm even saddened by the realization that, at so young an age, this is probably the best boss I'll ever work for.  Ok, sounding hopeful, at least top 3.

This job is empowering and is teaching me a lot.

And provides a rather beautiful paycheck.

So when I rant... it's not because I want to switch jobs.

I am restless and wrestling right now.

I don't know who I want to be when I grow up.

I'm going to be 23 this month.

Yes, young.  I know.

Several have asked me lately,

"How old are you?

...Only 22.

Well, you've got lots of time."

Yes.  I do.

But I don't want to waste any of it.

And there has to be more than this.

More than rushing to work

(Wo)manning a desk

Relying on Starbucks

Waiting for the weekend

Checking fb, twitter, insta, blogs for something inspirational

Constantly eating on-the-go

Crossing off to-do lists

Filling out "adulthood" forms

Filling out stupid-*@$%-car-accident forms

Maybe reading a little, watching a little

Doing laundry (if I'm lucky)

And checking on virtual life once more before bed

I mean, yesterday, I seriously had instant oatmeal out of a paper cup for breakfast.

Lameness has become a frequent guest :/

And I know I seem moody because I'm all "check out my fabulous weekend..."

"Here's a morsel in this stimuli-overload, inspiration-starved world..."

"You wouldn't believe this funny story..."

But a large part of my life is spent here.  With a view from the desk.

And sometimes I think I'm going cuckoo

Scratch that... am cuckoo.

I identify so much with my good friend, Prufrock.

Do I dare

Disturb the universe?

In a minute, there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, 

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons...

Although it's pumps of chai, not coffee spoons, in my case.

But still... what is this modern life?

And why does everything inside me anxiously wrestle against it?

One of my selves (yes, I'm totally schizo... and so am I) tries to shush the other selves,

"Samara, you're too dramatic.

Bob's out this week so it's just quiet.

LBD is over and you're missing your fiction-fix.

You should just eat better, exercise better, sleep better.

Samara, be grateful!!"

Yes.  Yes, those are probably all true.

And yet.

I know that God is in the tedious and monday-ne (I made a word!).

I know that He is teaching me, like Jacob,  through wrestling.

Teaching me that I can rely only on Him.

For peace. For provision. For sanity.

For love.

I know those things.  I am learning those things.

But I have dared to listen to a distant call.

One that thrills as it terrifies.

One that challenges everything comfortable and calculated.

And it isn't specific.  I can't make out the call.

But I'm daring to incline my ear.

Because I don't know who or what or where I was made for.

But I know I have yet to arrive.

Just have to say...

I am getting SO excited for Valentine's Day this year!!

Last year, I practically missed out on Valentine's Day altogether--and this is worth a story all unto itself...

I had a big presentation on Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse that day.  So I was up late on the 13th into the 14th researching and writing and prepping for this presentation and an annotated bibliography that went with it.
It was practically comical, though, because one of my best friends was up just as late/early as I was - watching Braveheart with her boyfriend.  That's how cool my friends are - they think of Braveheart as the perfect, romantic precursor to Valentines Day [duh!] :)

So anyway... After staying up till 2, sleeping for just a few hours, running around like crazy trying to get things printed, dashing to work for the morning shift, racing to school to set up for the presentation, and giving a presentation which I enjoyed, but my professor thought pretty mediocre........ I wasn't exactly in the mood for a great Valentine's Day.  In all that, I hadn't even been able to write up notes to my family, let alone friends.  If I remember correctly, a few texts were exchanged on the bus.  But I felt awful finding chocolates, flowers, and cards at my spot on the kitchen table, but having nothing to offer in return than a verbal "Thanks... I love you, too!"  After the presentation, waiting around on campus before my evening plans, I did pop on tumblr and found a host of fabulous Sherlock Valentines - which my other mischevious friends received ;)

That night, when I usually would get all dolled up and go out with girl-friends, I took my brother to a friend's "Non-Valentines Valentines Day Party."  It wasn't all single people... it was just a group of friends who didn't want to give into the consumerism and pressure of Valentines Day.  So it was pizza and apples-to-apples rather than dresses, dinner, and a movie.  It was fun... but I missed "going out."

I really don't believe in moping around on Valentine's Day.  Sure I'm looking forward to spending it with my Mister, but I have been blessed with so many people to love on!!  And this year I'm looking forward to making up for last year... because I can!  Instead of worrying about annotated bibliographies, I've got little gifts and cards planned, my brother is going to be receiving a marvelous little care package my sister have been creating, a few ladies at work are doing "Secret Valentine," (there's going to be some LBD drama!), and I have a double-sister date planned with dear friends!  A smashing way to spend Valentine's if you ask me ;)

And it's a perfect picture of the season that I'm in.  I at peace with all the possibilities of the future before me; knowing that they're not quite here and that's ok.  I thoroughly mean to enjoy the here and now, and wait--eagerly leaning--towards all the new things out there.  My life right now is full... so wonderfully, fabulously full.  So this Valentine's Day, there is only reason to celebrate all the people I love now.

Happy Valentine's Day!!

*Celebrating six months on the job :)

So, the weekend was fabulous. And I just had to share a bit.

Started off Friday night celebrating the lovely Cami Morrill =)

For her birthday, we went to a lovely little French place called Le Pichet.

For the record... being able to sit and relish french cuisine for three hours (which is as it was meant to be eaten), to fellowship over good food with fun friends, that is refreshing. And I'm so grateful I got to spend that time with Cami & Co.

[The group, with the gorgeous birthday girl on the far left =]

Saturday was equally stellar!

What to do on one of the last summery days of the year? Satisfy one of your summer wishes!

After trying to find the perfect day schedule and weather-wise... on saturday I took Sarah paddle-boarding!

It's been a goal of mine for about a year and half... and it was so worth it!!

She and I went to a fabulous little place on South Lake Union. From there, we paddled ourselves across the lake to Gasworks. Weaving in and out of the paths of sail-boats, being serenaded by jazz music from the house-boats (I like to believe Tom Hanks lives in one ;), and marveling at all the fascinating names of boats--favorites being Starward and Daedalus--we glided atop the water and enjoyed Seattle Sun. 

I can't recommend the experience highly enough. I found stress seemed to melt out there on the water. And there were many priceless moments I won't soon forget. 

So loved getting this opportunity and now I'm just bummed I'll have to wait till next spring to do it again... but I'm already dreaming of the day when I can buy my own board and paddle =)

Hope you had a fabulous weekend and that the week has started well for you!

Bonsoir, mon amis.

New season

Hello, I've been meaning to write this for a while but, for those I haven't told, I'm excited to say that I'll be starting a new job a week from today =)

I am just wrapping up my current position and it has been such a blessing the last two years of college. It has been a great fit--they even allowed me to take seven weeks off last summer for my excursion in England!

But I am SO excited for my new position. About a month back I applied for an opening as a receptionist at an accounting firm in Bellevue. Honestly, it was one of a gazillion places I applied. But they were--and still are--one of the only companies to respond. After a phone interview, they asked me to come in. I chatted with a whole bunch of people on the admin team and everything went really well. At the end of the interview, the HR director and office manager came back in and told me that while interviewing for a receptionist, they'd had their eye open for an executive assistant to the president of their company. As the company's grown, they've needed someone dedicated entirely to him. They asked me to consider the role. I did. I met with the president the next week and that also went well... so they offered me the job =) This has been a hugely miraculous process--I mean, it's more than I had hoped!! And not just salary-wise, although, Lord knows, that's amazing; the whole position means more. More compensation, more influence, more challenges--but challenges that I feel ready for. I honestly don't think there will be an "ordinary" day in this role, and I think that's great!

So here's to new seasons, new adventures, hello's and goodbye's all at the same time.

Here's to tomorrow =)

fourteen.

So incredibly grateful for this guy:

[Josiah and I on graduation day 2012]

My brother Josiah is one of my absolute bestest friends!

Fourteen years ago today, he was handed a death sentence, a diagnoses of terminal lymphoma.

But God is so incredibly good and He interposed and gave Josiah life.

Fourteen years later, we are celebrating his graduation from college and now he's preparing to pack up his car and move off for grad school (which would be sad if it wasn't so exciting)

He is off to have some pretty amazing adventures and I'm so proud of him! But... I will miss him like the dickens!

Whether he's being silly, quoting disney movies, or cracking Boadicea jokes, Josiah can make me laugh like no one else.

[New Years 2012]

And it will be strange without him around.

[October 2011 - Husky homecoming with Dad's letterman blanket]

[September 2011 - Last, first day of school together]

[Jeremiah's MC graduation]

[Summer 2010 - a Summer visit to campus just before he started there]

Josiah, you've become such a deep person. No, not just in the sense that you can confuse mom with big sounding words in your (published =) articles. I mean that you are truly thoughtful, spirit-sensitive, knowledgeable, and compassionate. You have literally amazed me over the last several years by branching out to new types of people, working so incredibly hard, attaining things that seemed impossible. I'm so proud of you. And I'm so grateful for you!

Just wanted to take this day to appreciate who you are and the simple fact that you are here.

So grateful that God had plans for you on this earth that would take longer than 11 years to achieve. I'm so excited to see where those plans take you next.

Love you tons,

Samara

how i feel this monday morning...