Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Monday, June 24, 2013
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
I came across this beautiful piece earlier this week and it affected me from my head to my toes to the depths of my soul.
"One thing you need to learn about life." From the blog "Let Love In."
You have to get used to square one. When you are recovering from anything, square one sounds like the worst possible option. When you are learning something new, square one sounds so tedious and you just want to jump to square 53 already, but life doesn’t work that way and love doesn’t work that way and learning doesn’t work that way. And I know most of us wished it did, but because it doesn’t, we have to get used to square one.
Make a home out of square one. Decorate it with recovery, and paint it with patience. When you realize you have to take a few steps back, to understand someone or something, just go back to this home you’ve made in square one.
Become so familiar with the different rooms, that when you go, you know exactly which one you need to sit in - understanding, trust, love, hope, and knowledge. But there is one extra room, every house on square one has it - the fear room. Paint it the brightest yellow you know, and vacuum the dust bunnies, and scrape off the popcorn ceiling. Open up the windows, and let the air flow in. Don’t close and lock the door. Drown fear in the bathtub, instead of being afraid of it.
Become so familiar with square one, that when you have to go back - whether you were in square two or eighty-three - that when you open up the front door, you find yourself kissing the ground and dancing with joy. Let square one be a safe place for you, and not just an awkward, shameful walk home.
When all you know has been burned to the ground and your home on square 71 is in ashes, don’t be afraid to sprint to square one and crash into the couch that holds so many dried up tears.
Let square one be a home - beginnings don’t have to be hard - and the start of something doesn’t have to be scary - square one has a welcome mat and the key has always been in your pocket.
When you hit the negatives - that home you built, is still right there.
Let yourself sit there for however long you need until things are okay again.
Then say “see you soon, old friend”
Become comfortable with square one.
P.S. Why 30 is not the new 20.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Princess Madeleine of Sweden married American banker Christopher O'Neill last Saturday and though I may not have seen it live, the photos and recaps make me teary-eyed.
I love her cap-sleeved gown and simple up-do.
And to think, she met O'Neill after a terrible heartbreak.
Things have a way of working out, right? ;)
-photos via The Telegraph.
P.S. Prince Frederik and Princess Mary were in attendance!
& how cute is Princess Estelle?
It was brief.
It was brief and it was explosive and it left just as quickly and as randomly as it came.
And I loved it. I loved every moment I spent with you.
Its briefness is not something I need to defend. Its briefness does not need any justification when I describe the love which I experienced.
We haven't spoken for months and any French I hear makes my stomach ache and I am so nervous to return to what we once called ours.
After days and nights, I'm starting to realize it isn't so much you that I miss. I miss what I thought you were. I miss what I thought we had.
So in a surreal, sobering way, I will soon return to what was once ours and I will reclaim it as my own. And perhaps share it with someone new.
However brief, our time was our time, in a city that, at that time, was our city.
F. Scott Fitzgerald once wrote:“There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice.”
I love that.
I'm moving back, I'm moving on, with or without you. And though I will never forget what we had, I'm ready to remake this city.
Turn this heartbreak into joy.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Grandma Gooding circa 193?
This next move to Munich will be a whole new ballgame, a new chapter, and I have the kind of butterflies in your stomach that let you know something really really good is about to happen. Something new and scary and a new part of your life is just about to begin.
So yes, I'm trying to cherish this time, while also beyond hopeful about what's ahead.
In this time I've been able to spend some time with my Grandma Gooding and help her write a bit of her life story. I come from a family of many, many cousins so I've never had much of a chance to talk to her one-on-one. So our Thursday lunches and afternoons filled with talking about her life are just wonderful. (I will be sad when I leave for Munich and we can't eat at our new favorite diners and chat on Thursdays, but thank goodness there are telephone dates!)
I've realized that my Grandma has been sassy since she was a little girl growing up in a small town in Nebraska. I've learned that she has had quite the adventures and has gone through a lot of hardships. But she is just as feisty, if not more, than she was as a teenager. She is hilarious and has this brilliant ability to mention crazy stories with such nonchalance you'd think she was just talking about her shopping list...
"Oh we had the pet monkey after the our pet skunk, Fifi La'More...we'd walk Fifi around town on a leash. She had a bejeweled collar..."
You guys. It's just as good as it sounds. Better even.
She quit her job when her friend was fired when they were teens out of solidarity.
A lady she babysat for asked her to get her cigarettes and instead of telling the lady she didn't know how to drive, my grandma just took the keys and tried to remember how she had seen people shift gears. She made it back unharmed (thank God) cigarettes in hand and the lady never knew.
She's a hoot. And a holler.
And one tough cookie.
More than anything though, she's shown me that you can't let people walk all over you, you need to demand respect, work hard--and most of all, have a little fun while you're at it.
I'm so blessed she's my grandma.
I love her
(and I love that I think I've got a bit of her sass).
A lot of it, actually...
And it's an honor.
I love you, Grandma!
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Understanding adjective endings in German, or the time I had to write a thesis for my Rhetoric course in college are up there with some of the hardest things I've had to learn.
In retrospect, I much prefer those lessons than those with no definite answers, no charts, no allowance for a rough draft.
I just turned 24. It's odd. It seems as though far too much has happened for it to only be 24 years of lessons. The hardest lesson thus far, which I am still in the mere introductory chapters of the textbook, is the concept of friendships mattering a lifetime, affecting your life forever, yet sometimes fleeting.
It doesn't mean your friendship meant nothing just because you don't talk anymore. Or that you moved on or moved up. Not at all. In fact, sometimes, your past friendships grow dearer with time.
We all are busy. We all are at different points in our lives. And sometimes, you drift.
That's what I'm learning: It's ok.
At the time you were close and you will remember being close at that time. We change everyday, our lives change everyday. But at that time, you and that person, your friendship served a purpose, taught a lesson, helped you both grow.
You are always a friend in my heart -- that time, that place, those moments, they are forever treasured in my heart. They made me who I am. Thank you, dear friend.
And though we may not speak often, or perhaps ever, I guarantee you; you are always, always in my heart.
Then and now.
'and if we don't meet no more in this world,
then i'll, i'll meet you in the next one,
and don't be late, don't be late...' via.