Life enthusiast, hummus addict, & California native. I blog about topics that run the gamut from spiritual perspective to salad. Because you’ve got to learn how to have faith, and you’ve also got to learn how to cook a decent meal. And you can screw up both those things, and still try again.
These past couple of weeks have been difficult. Two weeks ago, I had a plan. I had finally reached a “life stage” I had been anticipating for about a decade. Now, I’m back to where I started – no plan and no idea of what the future holds [if it’s not clear already, I went through a breakup].
What I found in the midst of feeling like “the bottom fell through” on my hopes and dreams were things I didn’t expect: security, faith, some courage.
1 . Hard things. I am still trying to claim this piece fully, but I am grateful for the hard things. When I want to see my deepest desires and goals fulfilled and delivered to me now, Amazon prime, two-day shipping-style, God is preparing me to receive those things with grace and patience. Meaning: He allows me to go through a sometimes-challenging and character-building process before I receive what I want. Thank you, God.
I just spent two weeks in Paris. I saw – on a near-daily basis – things of extraordinary beauty: the surprising sight of the Eiffel Tower, backlit in pink and orange at sundown or bristling in sparkle late at night; humans memorialized in stone and gold and marble, expressionless and majestic at the center of squares and parks; miles of grey and cream apartment buildings from another century, with delicate molding and tiny wrought-iron balconies.
When you think of “prayer” what is it exactly that you picture in your mind’s eye?
Do you think of falling on your knees? Hands clasped together? Is prayer out loud? Or is it silent? Is prayer done in a church? Or in the privacy of your home? Do you pray by yourself? Or with others? Is prayer all of the above? Or is it none of the above? Continue reading “What is prayer?”→
I recently returned from a trip to Paris, during which my priorities were shaken up, stirred, and reordered. Still stuffed with French butter, baguette, and chocolat noir, I spent my plane ride home drifting in and out of sleep and melting memories of those things that make Paris Paris: the gray and cream cityscape at dusk, the steep ascent to the hill at Montmartre, the assurance of perfect croissants on every block. I’ve been to the city many times, but this particular trip moved me in such a way that I’ll be processing, remembering, and living in it for weeks and months to come. Continue reading “Cultivating creativity + community in Paris”→
Here’s to being vulnerable: for most of my life I’ve struggled with perfectionism. I’ve felt I had to make the rightchoice in every single situation, however seemingly inconsequential. Did I study the right subject in school? Did I say the right thing in that conversation? Am I wearing the right outfit? Did I eat the right thing for lunch? I used to obsess over decision I had made, agonizing over whether I had made the “wrong” one and whether that would taint a (ridiculous) aspiration to live perfectly. Continue reading “How to fail forward”→
In the spring of 2010, I studied abroad in Strasbourg, France, during which I gained a healthy 8 pounds on my 5 ft 2 inch frame. You guess the culprit: a) tender, beautifully buttery croissants, b) tarte flambée (basically, French pizza) c) copious amounts of chocolate, or d) jam.