Captivated Me

I think too much.  I took the MCAT more than one week ago, and I still catch myself trying to count the questions I may have answered wrong and use that value to obtain some kind of idea about what my score will be.  My sister is fixing to go into labor, and I am trying to strategize an almost minute-by-minute outline for how I’ll get to the hospital if I’m at work, or out with a friend, or in Amery visiting my other sister when I get the call that my new niece/nephew is coming into the world.

Anyone with me?  I know I’m not alone here.  We think and plan, we strategize, analyze, criticize (mostly ourselves), deduce, and otherwise imbue our minds with stressful matters over which we have very little control.  If we do have a say in the matter, that’s another question.  But if it is out of our hands entirely, I submit that we need review our process of analysis (i.e. icksnay the process through and through, or at least tone it down significantly).  For me, this takes prayer.  Prayer with a concerted effort to pause and redirect my thinking towards more important, pleasant, and encouraging things in my life – faith, family, friends, hope, you get the idea.  The simplest of blessings are often those that save me from myself.

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Be still my soul, my mind, my heart,

From morning light to moonshine start.

In rain or sun, through drought and storm,

In winter’s chill and summer’s warm.

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As waters rage and clouds roll in,

Let deepest hope be found in Him.

Have peace when thunder boldly roars;

Strong winds destroy, but love restores.

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In life’s confusion, lift your eyes

To Him whose hands crafted the skies.

For He has conquered every fear;

He calms the seas and dries each tear.

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Written 02/2013

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“Best of all is it to preserve everything in a pure, still heart, and let there be for every pulse a thanksgiving, and for every breath a song.”  -Conrad Gessner

Anyone who knows me well knows how much I love the holidays!  This Thanksgiving, I was so blessed to be able to spend the day relaxing at home with my mom and dad, sisters, brother-in-law, and nephew.  It’s exceptionally rare for us all to be in the same place at the same time these days, which makes the holiday all the more special!  What’s more, early in the day the weather was gorgeous enough to have the windows open and a soft, cool breeze circulating through the house.  Then later on, it started snowing!  Pure perfection.

On the menu, we had a main course including the traditional turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, etc.  And I had the privilege of preparing a snack and dessert!  I found a wonderful little formula for cinnamon-roasted almonds on Pinterest, and then used a solid old-fashioned sweet potato pie recipe to round out my food preparation duties.

As always, here is the endeavor as documented pictorially:

For those who have been e-mailing “what’s new?”, here’s the scoop (in a nutshell)!

Fall breezes in Minnesota are ever-so-slowly transitioning into winter chills, but what a beautiful fall it’s been!  Having spent this season in California last year, the imagery of bright, autumn colors set against a radiant blue sky had dulled slightly in my mind.  Thus, this year I had the pleasure of looking at the gorgeous leaves and trees through a new lens (so to speak).  The colors seemed more vivid than ever, the tickling wind more pleasant.  Each sight and sound seemed new.  And then, a thought.  Isn’t this how we should experience the world with each new day?

Personally, far too much has taken place since my last post, so I must limit my updates to the recent past.  My nephew is now 16 months old.  16 MONTHS!  And cuter every day, if I do say so.  With his increasing cuteness, he is also increasingly conniving, though, and he constantly finds new ways to avoid getting in trouble.  Method one, the pouty lip.  If that doesn’t work, he goes for either the scrunchy nose face or the big hug.  Last resort is signing “sorry” in ASL, which usually gets him off the hook.  Adorable.  I had the pleasure of doing a photo session for him and my sister (unfortunately my brother-in-law, aka B.I.L, had to work that day and couldn’t be there), and a couple of the images can be found below.

In other news, I’ve been working as both a scribe and a photographer recently secondary to my duties as auntie (which supersedes all), and what a blessing it is to be doing two things that I love and getting paid for it!  I didn’t know what to expect with moving home from California.  I had no job lined up, no huge savings to live from, essentially no plan whatsoever, and God has completely provided for every need I have.  I completed a great Microbiology course at the U of M, recovered from my talus fracture and am able to run again (though I still can’t re-start kickboxing yet), I’m taking up guitar and re-taking up painting, and I get to see my family a ton!  Joys and trials abound in life these days, but I’m so thankful for every moment, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds!

Smiles, sunshine, and blessings to you, wherever and whoever you are!

The fishy scent of salty sea tickled my nostrils as I strolled down the weathered (but sturdy) Fisherman’s Wharf in Monterey, CA last weekend.  For the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe deeply and peacefully.  Only two hours earlier had I decided on a last-minute road trip to the coastal hotspot for a day of rejuvenation (with some time spent studying sprinkled between moments of excitement).  I was last in Monterey in the fall of 2011 when my parents visited from Minnesota, but we had little opportunity to tour the city, deciding instead to drive further south to Carmel and Big Sur.  Since that autumn visit, Monterey itself has been at the top of my to-tour list.

There’s something about the ocean that blows my mind every time I see it.  To be standing in the midst of a force so powerful invigorates, but to see the waters so calm (as was the case last weekend) soothes the soul in a “be still my heart” kind of way.  It was just what I needed to recharge that Saturday, and I spent the day walking.  Walking and observing.  Okay, okay: walking, observing, and taking pictures.  I started at the Wharf, passing slowly and deliberately by each restaurant, each boutique.  I contemplated a clam chowder bread-bowl and a slice of homemade fudge, but elected instead to continue my window shopping.  Other Monterey-goers bustling to and fro did not distract from the stunning, weathered ambiance of the dock.  It was surprisingly comforting to be one anonymous face in a crowd of strangers – obligated to nothing and no one, no e-mails to send, no phone calls to make.  Oftentimes it’s nice to fly under the radar.  From the Wharf, I made the three-quarter-mile walk to the famous Cannery Row, snapping photos and pausing to take in the panoramic bay views along the way.

After a jaunt through the pedestrian-rich Row, I proceeded to try to find a restaurant that my boss had recommended to me that morning – Compagno’s.  Apparently, this place has a phenomenal assortment of larger-than-life sandwiches, sides, and desserts (of which my boss recommended the Meatball Sandwich, Broccoli Salad, and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cake).  I found myself trudging a half-mile up what I swear was a hill on the outskirts of Monterey set on a 45-degree incline.  From the stares directed my way from cars passing by, I’d say that I looked either like I was about to faint (given how tired my legs were!) or like a hilariously lost tourist.  Probably both.  I even tried to play off my situation by calling my sister to look a little less adrift, but I’m not sure how that worked.  Either way, after about a 20 minute walk, I called of the search for Compagno’s and headed back downhill, giggling at myself the whole way.  Since I didn’t find the restaurant that day, I consider it incentive to go back to the bay soon!

It was about 4-o’clock and, not having eaten since breakfast, I stopped desperately by a Peet’s coffee shop that I had passed at one point during my journey.  Pasta salad and a nonfat espresso macchiato hit the spot, and I enjoyed each from a patio perched directly above the bay.  A chill began to accompany the previously warm breeze, so I started on the path along the shore back to my car.  More pictures were taken, and a welcome exhaustion set in from the long walk.  I wish I could have lingered at the Wharf a little longer with sunshine on my face, wind toying with my hair, and the soft bell-toll sound of ropes striking their sailboat’s mast filling my ears.  But alas, my blissful, restful day in Monterey had to end.  The long drive home gave me ample opportunity to ponder and reflect on all-things-life.

I’ve come to relish these moments of solitude, these fleeting occasions when life stands still.  They are few and far between, to be sure, but they are invaluable to the maintenance of sanity.

Times of rest have been lacking to me this past year.  I feel so constantly on the move that I dread to think about what I’ve missed in pursuit of the next adventure.  The “wheels keep on turning” in my head, so to speak, and I have yet to master the art of silencing my mind in order to truly live in the moment.  What’s curious is that, while my mind can be going a mile a minute, it doesn’t feel like I’m getting anywhere fast (unless you consider “Mental Exhaustion” a destination).  Further, in trying to think about everything – every person I want to get in touch with, every task on my to-do list, every errand I need to run – I often forget the very thing that I’m trying to figure out.  I chalk it up to a quest for perfection that I began as a little girl and have yet to accept as an illusion.  That’s right, I’m in denial.  Blissfully so, in some cases, but then it hits me.  I am imperfect.  I have weaknesses.  I am a work in progress.

Secondary to this desire for perfection is a pervasive fear that I will fail either myself or others around me.  So I often play it safe by trying to do too much and depriving myself of balance.  I over-work.  I over-think (hence the mental exhaustion referenced above).  I want to prove that I’m of value to someone, that I’m capable of something, anything.  What a terrible weight to bear.  Some of you, maybe a lot of you, know what I mean.

From these acknowledgements of my silent fears and vain attempts sprung forth a revelation.  That God doesn’t want me to be perfect.  Perfect is boring.  He wants me to be me.  Free.  Not bound by expectations.  Not stifled by fear.  Not chained by the all-go, no-quit, full-steam-ahead pace that society steps to.  I am free to set my own pace.  I am even free to stand still and rest.  To enjoy each breath He gives me instead of feeling like I hold my breath all the time.  This, my friends, is good news.  Now, I just need to have patience with myself as the Lord teaches me to live and walk in this truth.

And just in case you were wondering, I spent a grand total of zero minutes studying.  Zippo!  Well, at least my intentions were good…

I recently had the privilege of visiting Half Moon Bay, a charming agricultural town on the coast between San Francisco and Santa Cruz.  The area is known for a great pumpkin festival celebrated around Halloween time, but I thankfully missed the crowds by a week or two and was able to bask in the relaxing, cozy atmosphere that blanketed the town like the clouds over the hills.  The day was filled with window shopping at various boutiques in the historic downtown (my favorite, of course, being one inspired entirely by Parisian life), an espresso from the adorable Blue Sky Farms, feathered friends who tried (successfully) to steal my cranberry-orange scone, conversations with the few beach-goers besides myself who strolled the coast (including a couple with an adorable dog and two young men riding horseback), and rhythmic waves on the shore to serve as an accompaniment to the Half Moon Bay experience.  What a beautiful, serene day it was, the likes of which can be described neither with words nor photos.  But here is my vain attempt:

Anyone who knows me well knows that I have an odd fascination with the idea of visiting Monterey.  (I have the movie Sahara to thank for this.)  So when I was planning an itinerary for the weekend of my parents’ CA visit, you can imagine the locale that I wanted to explore with them!  The weekend was literally picture-perfect, including:

• a short morning visit to a wharf at Monterey Bay,
• an excursion through the trails and coves of stunning Point Lobos State Reserve (where we spotted harbor seals and adorable sea otters!),
• lunch at the Mediterranean-inspired Cafe Stravaganza (best chicken pesto sandwich on the planet),
• a chai frappe from the quaint Carmel Valley Coffee Roasting Co.,
• a painted sunset in Carmel, followed by window shopping and then dinner at Cantinetta Luca (best margherita pizza, tiramisu, and coffee on the planet),
• breathtaking views of the ocean along the route to Big Sur (and when I say “breathtaking”, I mean it in the truest sense of the word),
• a relaxing afternoon with the locals at a remote beach south of the Carmel Highlands (where I added learning to surf and scuba dive during my time in CA to my bucket list).

But despite all the beauty of the weekend – the climactic perfection, the “dream come true” of visiting the Monterey area, the colorful, powerful, unfathomable views that leave you questioning if what you are seeing is real – the most beautiful thing of all was having my parents there to experience it all with me.

Here is the weekend in pictures…

A sailboat ready to be launched on the Bay.

Our weekend destination.

The simply stunning Carmel River State Beach.

Sea Lion Cove at Point Lobos State Reserve.

Cliffs and coves – Point Lobos State Reserve.

Orange color on the trees is from carotene, a pigment involved in the photosynthetic process of green algae.

Another captivating view at Point Lobos State Reserve.

A colorful Carmel sunset.

Coffee, tiramisu, and chocolate torte with hazelnut ice cream – our dessert from Cantinetta Luca!

Rocky archways dot the shores of Pfeiffer Beach.

Purple sand, from manganese garnet particles, washes down to the ocean from the hillside.

A gorgeous day at Pfeiffer Beach.

Colorful shells blanket some rocky surfaces along the shore.

Sunshine, seagulls, and surfers were our Sunday entertainment.

The clear waters of Pfeiffer Beach.

Hello, San Francisco.  Oh, we finally got a chance to meet…

I sit right now at the Big Basin Cafe in Saratoga, sipping cinnamon chai, delighting in the cool, sunny Sunday morning, and trying to forget the aching in my feet and legs from yesterday’s 6-hour hike around San Francisco.  I headed to the City by the Bay Saturday morning with camera in hand and a half-plan in mind, essentially certain of nothing but the direction that I should head to get there: North.

While there is something to be said for the tranquil ambiance that settles over the hills of Los Gatos each day, I’ve got to say I miss the hustling and bustling that so characterizes city life.  The stop lights, the crosswalks, the bus stops, the buildings, the coffee shops, the diversity, the endless assortment of things to do and people to meet.  The feeling of being blissfully lost in such a densely populated and massive expanse.  The triumph of managing to find that place that you’re looking for after an embarrassing number of wrong turns.  Four years in Minneapolis exposed me to these same things, but San Francisco takes it to a whole new wonderful level.

My day was filled with warm sand and sunshine, cool breezes, a long walk along the northern end of the southern bay area, breathtaking views of America’s favorite bridge,  the sound of coastal waters lapping rhythmically on the shore, a street-side art showcase, and over 1,000 pictures taken to document my first trip to San Francisco: