the tree with the lights in it

"when the doctor took her bandages off and led her into the garden, the girl who was no longer blind saw 'the tree with the lights in it'. it was for this tree i searched through the peach orchards of summer, in the forests of fall and down winter and spring for years. then one day i was walking along tinker creek thinking of nothing at all and i saw the tree with the lights in it. i saw the backyard cedar where the mourning doves roost charged and transfigured, each cell buzzing with flame. i stood on the grass with the lights in it, grass that was wholly fire, utterly focused and utterly dreamed. it was less like seeing than like being for the first time seen, knocked breathless by a powerful glance. the flood of fire abated, but i'm still spending the power. gradually the lights went out in the cedar, the colors died, the cells unflamed and disappeared. i was still ringing. i had been my whole life a bell, and never knew it until at that moment i was lifted and struck. i have since only very rarely seen the tree with the lights in it. the vision comes and goes, mostly goes, but i live for it, for the moment when the mountains open and a new light roars in spate through the crack, and the mountains slam."

i've been rereading annie dillard's pilgrim at tinker creek and this passage always stops me in my tracks, makes me yearn for some such gift of sight--a way of seeing that confirms one of my deepest longings--to be myself seen, which is to say, to be wholly known. my heart is still so full of longing...

sunshine

a regal madrona tree in discovery park

there's something about a sunny day in the middle of winter that makes me feel hopeful. i can't quite explain it, but it stirs something inside me and i feel like i can do anything i set my mind to--that nothing is out of reach. i feel like i have all the energy in the world. i want to be productive--clean the house, exercise, go for a long walk and let the crisp, cool air fill my lungs.

i was fortunate enough to spend a few hours in one of my favorite coffee shops this morning as i had some work that was better done away from the distractions of office phones and emails. so i sat at a table by the window and was blessed to see the sun overhead, casting beautiful wintery shadows as i looked out across the street.

the sun seems to move so quickly on winter days that you have to take every advantage to bask in its rare appearances. and being out of the office for a few short hours today gave me just such an opportunity. if it hadn't been quite so chilly, i think i would have tried to sit outside on one of the adirondack chairs to complete my work, but as it was, i got to be warmed by the sun from my window perch just the same.

on my way back to the office i caught a glimpse of the always amazing olympic mountains, glorious in all their snow-capped majesty. i don't think i will ever grow tired of gazing at these mountains. there is something so powerfully alluring about them for me...they make me full of wonder, awe-struck by their immensity, and again, full of hope and so much possibility.

weekend reprieve

it's monday. which means i'm back in the office after a weekend respite from cubicles and computer screens. just that break alone is always a treat. i went into this weekend with no real plans on the horizon, but things shaped up quite nicely.

leaving work on friday night, i decided on a whim to text my friend conners to see if he'd like to join me for a beer at my neighborhood pub. thankfully, his evening was open as well and we met up at hilltop for some fun conversation. we ran into a couple guys we know and ended up sharing a table and some laughs with them. a pleasant way to spend a friday evening for sure.

saturday morning i met up with an acquaintance for breakfast to talk about some future possibilities that involve volunteering and travelling--two things in which i place great value. i'll talk more about that some other time, but for now i'll just say it was a morning well spent and one that makes my heart feel full with possibility. we enjoyed lovely conversation and a yummy breakfast courtesy of the dish. if you've never visited this place, i highly recommend it. they make some of the best eggs in seattle!

after breakfast i took a little road trip down to the booming metropolis of chehalis to visit toby for the remainder of weekend. he's been working for the state down in lewis county for the last month and a half as part of a disaster recovery team aiding people who were affected by the floods from earlier this winter. it was fun to get out of the city for a spell and get a taste of the slower pace of small town life. we really had a relaxing time complete with a nice dinner at mcmenniman's pub in centralia, a drive out to the coast at ocean shores, coffee and crossword puzzling at caffe vita in olympia and an evening movie in lacey.

my favorite part was probably the drive out to the washington coast. it's so completely different from the southern california coast i grew up with, it's sometimes hard to believe it's the same body of water. the ocean is always so vast, and it's beauty and power so mesmerizing. the washington coast is very rugged, particularly so in the middle of winter. the skies were grey, the tide was rising, and the wind was there to take our breath away.

the rain stopped long enough for us to take a walk along the beach, which was a veritable wasteland of broken clam shells and abandoned crab carapaces. it was haunting in a way that made me long for the life-renewing springtime--the season where instead of seeing carcasses, you see little creatures scurrying about, where evidence of life, not death is all around. but it's also a reminder that this life is full of seasons, that the cycle continues, and were it not for the cold and dark of winter, we might forget to value the gift of new life we're given each spring.

shore birds running to and fro as the tide ebbs and flows

a crazy tangle of kelp

the beautiful stump of a once grand tree

waves crashing on the jetty

first post of the new year

i've been ignoring this blog for what feels like a lack of something to write about. after a week in san diego over christmas and a few days back in seattle before heading back to work, it now seems as though my life has settled into a very quiet, uneventful routine. i know i need to find something in which to invest my self and my time, but it often seems like the dolldrums of a seattle winter make finding motivation to do so a bit ellusive. living in a basement apartment doesn't really help either.

the day after christmas, my siblings and i went on a hike with my dad to the torrey pines state reserve. traipsing along the sand-encrusted trails overlooking the beautiful pacific in 65 degree weather, i suddenly realized the appeal of southern california winters. i thought about my home in seattle, knowing it was probably in the 40s and raining and was grateful for the chance to be outside and active.

but then i came back to seattle and what weather we've had! rain yes, but then snow! more snow than i think i've seen in all my many winters here. and then unseasonably cold weather that actually made the snow stick around for more than a few hours. it has been charming indeed, late openings for the office, and even an unexpected but very welcome snow day earlier this week.

i spent the morning taking a long walk outside in the wintery world. snow everywhere, everything dusted and silenced by the beautiful white. the crunch of wet snow beneath my feet made me smile with each step i took. i spent the early afternoon in one of my favorite neighborhood coffee shops crossword puzzling and knitting. it was a perfect day indeed.

my most recent obsession has been knitting. i'm not typically the type of person to get wrapped up in something for extended periods of time nor am i a very crafty or creative person, but for some reason, i've become a frighteningly obsessive knitter! i recently started (and quickly finished) a new project, a felted tote bag, and i couldn't get enough of it. i was so curious to see how it was going to turn out, i worked on it every spare moment i had. i think i spent a good five or six hours a night knitting. i pushed past the hand cramps and stiff neck and shoulders and got into a frenzied rhythm. the clicking of the bamboo needles became the metronome of my evenings. and now i have a very fun bag to share with you all. i still need to figure out what to do for handles so if any of you crafty folks have suggestions, i would be very grateful.

here are pictures of the finished product, the first one is after i finished knitting, the second one is after the felting.

I've now started a new bag and am trying to be a little more deliberate with a pattern, though the haphazzard color changes of the first bag was definitely fun to play around with. are any of you working on any fun things these days?

drink it up

i never knew how absolutely stunning giraffes were until i had the pleasure of seeing them in all their grandeur in their natural habitat--the wild african wilderness at the nakuru game park in kenya. my impression of them immediately changed from imagining them to simply be tall, spotted animals with really long necks to being amazingly graceful creatures. when they run it's as if you're watching something in slow motion, as though time has slowed down to allow you to take in every aspect of this beautiful animal. i also remember being shocked at how brilliant their colors were--they weren't just yellow and brown, but cast against the grassy plains of kenya, they were royal gold and burnished chestnut. the intricate patterns that adorn their bodies were beautiful tapestries.

i fell in love with those animals. and ever since i had the pleasure of seeing them in the wild, i've remembered that transformation in me, that by seeing them with new eyes, i was able to see their wonder in a whole new way. giraffes have made me smile ever since because i believe i know something about them that i never knew before. they are beautiful.

the reason i mention this is because i recently received a wonderful birthday gift in the mail from a dear friend i traveled in africa with. it is a wooden-carved giraffe whose body is the shape of a bowl and whose neck comes up and drinks out of the bowl as though it were a life-giving pool. it might sound strange when i try to describe it, so i'm including a picture of it so you can experience this little gem for yourself.

along with the bowl, she included several stones inscripted with words. these words have deep meaning for me because each one is something i hope to have realized in my life, something i hope to someday have exhibited as part of my character.

the words: hope. faith. dignity. courage. wisdom. strength. blessed.

i placed them in the bowl so the giraffe can drink them up, a reminder of sorts to me, to drink these things in as well. drink up hope so that each day is something to look forward to. drink up faith so that my heart has something to carry me. drink up dignity so that i can treat each as if they are the most precious person alive and so that i can know that the preciousness applies to myself as well. drink up courage so that i can overcome my fears that too often keep me paralyzed. drink up wisdom so that i will forever be teachable. drink up strength so that i am able to live this life with compassion and bravery. drink up blessedness so that i remember that this life i have is a generous gift sacred because of its awareness of being blessed.

i find myself aware of the fact that i often fall short of being the person i long to be. there is so much room for growth and i hope to always be manifesting it in my life in some way or another. i'm grateful for this gift so that i can remember to drink from this life-giving pool daily, that in reflecting on these words, i take them inside me and let them nourish me and sustain me. i long to be transformed.

my noble fir

i went tree hunting with a friend sunday night after church and it was a treat to have company to aid me in the selection process. i generally know what kind of christmas trees i like--my family has always had noble firs--and they suit me well too. i like their fullness, their sturdiness, the air of regailty they present, as though they are trying to live up to the dignity of their name. so thankfully, after only about five minutes at the tree lot, i found a tree that was quite satisfactory. it was big enough to feel like it wasn't just a sapling, but seemed small enough to fit into my tiny basement apartment.

last night when i got home from work, i set to the task of putting up and decorating my tree. i brought it in from outside, moved some furniture around to make space for it and then to my dismay, discovered i had to kind of force it into its space. apparently my judge of size wasn't as accurate as i had hoped and it fit a bit more snugly than i wanted it to. after a moment of frustration, i decided to ignore this fact and let it be big and full and a little overwhelming and began decorating to my little heart's content.

my collection of christmas decorations is pretty meager as all of the ornaments i picked out as a child are still adorning my mom's tree in san diego. i have tried to organize ornament exchanges with friends and coworkers over the past few years in an attempt remedy this to a degree and have been somewhat successful. i think one of the best parts about ornaments is the stories that accompany them. as each one is unwrapped and placed on the tree, i love to remember when i got it and who gave it to me.

this year, the newest addition to my tree came by way of a special second birthday gift from toby's parents. they had already given me a beautiful amaryillis bulb that's sitting on my kitchen table trying its hardest to grow. but when toby's mom heard that i didn't have very many ornaments by which to beautify my tree, she sent me a box of lovely heart-shaped glass ornaments. i hung them with great care and gratitude at the thoughtful gift.

and now i present to you my tree. i hope you all are having fun reveling in the christmas spirit, staying cozy in your homes and spending time taking in the beauty that is all around you.

things worth celebrating

last night a handful of my friends here in seattle gathered to help me celebrate my birthday. 31 years. for some reason that number doesn't just roll off my tongue as easily as i'd like.

we met at a place called the sitting room, a cozy, european-style bar that was converted from an old garage into a charming venue. it is dimly lit, with little candles casting a warm glow on each table and they offer a variety of wines and cocktails as well as a tasty assortment of appetizers. it was a gift for me to sit around the table and watch my friends from various phases in my life visit with each other and engage in simple conversation.

as i looked at each face, i was reminded of years of history and was grateful for all of the ways my life has been blessed by the pleasure and presence of these friendships. each person at the table represents books full of memories to me--some are old roommates, some are both old and new co-workers, some i've stood beside as they've pledged their lives to one another, others i've travelled the world with, and still others i've cried with, laughed with and been held by. i love them all.

sometimes it seems the older we get, the easier it is to let these types of connections slip away. sometimes the distance is created by geography, other times by major changes in life that create a shift in priorities. last night was a reminder to me that sharing your life with others is a precious gift and one that i don't want to forget to nurture and let fall by the wayside.

i am grateful to know such a crazy variety of people, all with their unique stories, their different ways of looking at the world, their beautiful attempts at living lives with purpose and passion.

thank you, friends, for letting me into your worlds.