Archives for posts with tag: Grow

I was in the middle of a palace garden, sipping a latte with brown sugar, waiting for the girls to come back from the washroom … again. Everything felt like magic – something I was feeling with every breath since arriving in Istanbul.

It was sometime after the sluggish remains of jet leg crawled off my skin, but much before the peaceful protests would turn to tear gas and water bombs, and even longer before I’d sit beside crowds of formerly trafficked sex slaves breaking bread with me.

I looked at that latte, looked at the gold-framed gates leading to The Bosphorus and multi-million dollar mansions lining the strait, looked back at the latte again. Magic.

It was the spring of 2013, and I was on a trip I begged Cindy to let me join. “So, what does a girl have to do to be invited on this trip?” I began. It honestly wasn’t long before I was saving up for a trip my boss wasn’t too keen about me leaving for.

“Sex slaves? Prisons for young criminals? Eastern Europe? Three weeks without you here?” He had become more like a father than employer during my time in that office. He wasn’t entirely thrilled. “Email me, please. Email me often.”

It was a simple trip: go to Eastern Europe, adjust to the time change in Istanbul, travel through Moldova to meet formerly trafficked girls and give warm bread to kids in gypsy villages. Hang out in an orphanage, a boys prison in Lviv, and then, go home.

I had been so caught up in myself.

I was too caught up in myself, and to be certain, I was exhausted of it. When the opportunity came to get outside of my own head, I bolted. I begged. I received, and it was magic.

I thought about this event much like all of my favourite moments. It came out of nowhere while I was closing up the expensive purse store, lining up clothes in perfect order and thinking too much of myself. I’ve been exhausted of being inside my own head, again. Always. And this image of me in loose green pants and a white tee enveloped my senses. Brown sugar, espresso, Bosphorus. There wasn’t room for freaking out about my degree, a job, a love or even eating right.

I’m reminded all of the time about these moments because my head knows I need it. I need to be reminded that even when the world is about it birth something big, I don’t need to repeat the possibilities in my head.

I think we all do that; we consider all of the possibilities until we drive ourselves mad and incapable of simply being available to a moment. Whether it’s a relationship, a job, a big decision, or even a personal health goal. I’m convinced more than ever that overthinking is a disease.

See when I went to Turkey, Moldova and Ukraine, I was told over and over about the possible dangers lurking around every single corner. I was told about kidnapping and war and violence. But I didn’t give myself to it. I accepted that I didn’t know what would unfold, and experienced something so beautiful I think it might actually have been magic.

I wonder sometimes if I need to do that in my everyday life? You too?

I wonder if I need to set aside all of those things I couldn’t control in my mind or my life, sit down with a cup of joe and simply feel the magic instead.

You know, we left Istanbul for Chisinâu just a few short days after we arrived. I met up with the girls the next morning after a typically awful sleep. Cindy handed me her iPad with a news story staring back at me. “Did you hear what happened yesterday?” She said. Of course I hadn’t, but it turns out we left the day Istanbul was breaking their peaceful protests for unrest.

“Wow,” I said shocked, tired, feeling a little guilty. Cindy mentioned her gratitude and guilt too, as if perhaps we should have been there or been able to get everyone out of there if we were going to leave.

See I knew there were protests. I knew this beautiful city was fighting for something incredible to happen for their children’s future. I knew it. And when I left, I didn’t wish for things to have been perfect, I just wished I knew how to connect my fortune with their struggle.

There will be so much unrest. Jobs, family, relationships, pressures. There will be fortune for you and terrible struggle for others. There will be deep regret and wild hope. There will be so much we cannot know until perhaps it feels to late.

But I promise you, if you stop all that overthinking, even just for a moment, there will be magic too.

The trouble with ghosts is that they don’t even speak, they don’t even whisper. They motion us forward, they move through us, they flutter between us, and too often in response, so do we.

We listen to them like little addictions, the ghosts that can’t even talk. You cannot succeed, you will not be loved, they will not care, it isn’t enough, you will never change.

We can’t stop feeling lost, being lost, losing peace, losing sleep. But we can’t seem to stop listening either.

There is too much resting in the unknown, I think. And whether we want to acknowledge it or not, we’re hearing what we can’t see and following what we don’t fully understand.

I know a woman whose heart is made of gold. It was made purely of gold and mercy, of God, and a little bit of wilderness. She teaches people first how to dance, second how to pray, third how to change a tire, and fourth how to protect your heart. Except, she learned what she wasn’t supposed to as a child too. Read the rest of this entry »

I think it’s easy to lose sight and yet we all become so terrified when we do. I’ve been seeing it in myself and in others a lot and I don’t wonder for a second how it happens.

I think we all get stuck with this vision of something great. It sits there inside of our heads, debilitating and wrecking our hearts until that moment it starts. For me, it was starting back school so I could learn how to really write for you. For others it’s the start of an organization, group, relationship, company, you decide. But it starts. That thing that you dreamed about in your heart starts.

And then it starts to gain some speed, we start to see a pace that sets dreams into motion. It’s terrifying. We start asking God, friends, family, ourselves… heck I ask strangers at Starbucks so many questions about my dreams, about vision, about everything that’s started. Its like everything that started off simple (and huge) now requires more insight, and the more we try to find it, the more we lose sight. Read the rest of this entry »

Well I suppose I’ll always love the look of flowers in bloom. Is there anything as beautiful as the colour, the scent, the warmth, or the light they bring to any old room? But today I want to tell you a little secret; roses in bloom will never bring me so much joy as those hiding behind strengthening green backbones.

I see the ones in bloom, I do. They’re lovely. They are a beautiful fragrance, a warmth, a light. But more often than not I’m transfixed on the ones who’ve yet to open wide their arms and reveal in true vulnerability all that they are.

I guess there’s just something about them; they’re patient, they’re strong, they’re humble. I have never known a flower to bloom before its time, and I wonder like a little kid if they whisper to God each day, “Is it time yet, today?” Read the rest of this entry »

I wrote a big long post about how cool you are, why I love you, and why I get to speak into your life.

And then I realized it was excessive. I erased it all.

Here’s the shortened version: Read the rest of this entry »

You can’t imagine the issues I have with my appearance. A lot of people may assume I just appreciate the fun of getting dolled-up. Truth? Nope, definitely not the case.

I had hoped to be Brazilian, or one of those perfect doll-faced Swedish girls. Maybe a dark-skinned goddess or a Moroccan Beauty… If only I could be anything but what I am. Turns out people don’t get to choose some things, and so, I doll up. I fill in eyebrows and darken eyelashes and smize like I know what I’m doing. Really, I’m just a chick trying to fit into a mold. The worst part is, the appearance of my face is just where it all begins.

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“I pointed at the screen and said, ‘Effer!’ Except I didn’t say Effer. I dropped the real eff bomb. Out loud. In my office. At my computer screen though, it was meant for someone in particular…” I confessed while we stood there in the park.

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