what grace can give you

One of my favorite authors tells me this: "Life hands us opportunities at every turn to get over ourselves, to get outside ourselves, to wake up from our own bad dreams and realize that really lovely things are happening all the time.” Shauna Niequist knows what's up.

In the absence of writing, I haven't taken a breath deep enough to exhale creativity. Instead, I have let myself sit tightly wound and weighed down in a dark corner and it's time that I drag myself out. I mentioned a few months ago that life can often lead you away from the things you love and it takes a lot of effort to bring yourself back; to drag yourself out of that dark place, shrug off the unnecessary and give yourself grace to see the little things that make life good.

Since I last wrote in January, I've been struggling to accept some changes that have been nearly out of my control. The changes were subtle at first and as my awareness for them grew, so did the anxiety and stress that came with not knowing how to deal; my body was changing in ways I didn't like. I couldn't grasp what was happening both mentally and physically and I tried so hard to bring myself back to the way I saw myself two years ago. I didn't feel good. Uncomfortable in my own skin, anxiety perpetuated frequent pulling and I began to focus on things that were going horribly wrong instead of focusing on all of the things that were going right around me.

“Grace isn’t about having a second chance; grace is having so many chances that you could use them through all eternity and never come up empty. It’s when you finally realize that the other shoe isn’t going to drop, ever.” 

I drifted into being someone who cared more about how other people saw me than how I saw myself. I ate less. worked out more and sucked in so hard I gave myself headaches from barely breathing. I put band-aids on my thumbs, oils on my scalp and willed my hair to grow despite the damage done. I was sinking.

A few weeks ago on a back road somewhere in Virginia, something brought me back. I rolled my windows down to let the mountain air brush against my face as I followed the road's dips and curves, the wind between the trees beating louder as I drove by. In this moment I felt happy, almost lifted, and I couldn't remember the last time I felt this way. I feel stupid for admitting that I cried. But I let myself cry because it felt so good to let go of something. How weightless would one feel without anxiety, worry or doubt? I felt it then as I let it fall to the ground and swirl up like dust on the road behind me.

That day I learned that grace isn't about being perfect all time; it's about how you carry yourself as an imperfect human being. Giving yourself grace gives you the opportunity to love yourself as you are and not who you think you should be. 

Brene Brown writes that "shame, blame, disrespect, betrayal, and the withholding of affection damage the roots from which love grows. Love can only survive these injuries if they are acknowledged, healed and rare.” Acknowledging your injuries takes courage and healing those injuries requires compassion. But letting these injuries become rare and only fleeting; that's the challenge for most of us. Whether it's a joy ride on a back road somewhere in Virginia or simply taking some time to do something you love, we all need those moments where life grabs you by the wrists, sends pulses through your veins and shakes your soul awake.

c.r.e.a.t.e

For me, one of the most frustrating feelings in the world is being inspired to write, but not having the time to sit down and do so. My work day begins early in the morning, which is often when my mind is clear, alert and buzzing with ideas. I'm tied to the clock, however, and my scope of work does not include blogging. I find myself sitting here with a cadence of thoughts that flutter like butterfly wings beating gently but persistently against cupped hands.

My mind has been this way for the past month in an attempt to get back into a normal rhythm after what was an emotional, overwhelming and short holiday season. The first month of the year is almost over and I haven't even thought about a New Year's resolution..and I'm thinking that's not such a bad thing because how many of us actually follow through with the resolutions we hastily establish after reflecting on all of the things we wish we did or didn't do before the new year approaches?

I can't speak for everyone, but when I institute an absolute statement as a resolution, I automatically set myself up for failure. Humans are creatures of habit and as quickly as it takes us to recognize our need to change do we fall back into our comfortable, old routine. As a result of this, I have decided to use a word to represent my resolution for the new year. A word to live by, to work by, to love by; something to hold myself accountable without leaving me feeling completely downtrodden as an unfulfilled resolution might. Words, I think, may have a universal definition but if defined personally, words can be applied to more than just one goal or aspiration and lead to greater personal growth.

C R E A T E.

Create. verb
1. to cause to come into being, as something unique that would not naturally evolve or that is not made by ordinary processes.
2. to evolve from one's own thought or imagination, as a work of art or an invention.

I will create space and time for self expression. 

Life carries you through phases; some of which take you away from the things you love to do and some that bring you back. The moment I could form complete sentences, I started writing. I wrote with my friends, I wrote by myself, I wrote poems, and songs and fictional stories. But the second my hands starting reaching for my hair, they stopped reaching for a pen and the creativity that flowed from my fingertips was obstructed by anxiety and pubescent middle school stress. After my freshman year of high school that creativity began again, flowing through the lens of a camera and pieces here and there for the school literary magazine. Well, college happened next and unfortunately school and a way too serious relationship took my creativity away again, burying it somewhere deep; hidden but not totally forgotten. It wasn't until I spent time in my budding out-of-college career and singleness did I truly begin to unearth more creativity than ever before. It was then that I moved to a new city, started this blog, invested more time in photography and pursued passions that I saw only in my dreams. Taking the time to focus on these things gave me purpose, and always brings me back to my truest self. Seeing the evolution of my work and the personal growth I experience through each phase of life drives me to keep creating, because who knows where life may take me next?

My newest adventure: National Geographic's Your Shot community...some new, some old, learning and growing with the best out there! 

Your Shot National Geographic Photography Community

Pupusas & Pilsners with a Purpose

"Buenas tardes, señoras y señores, y bienvenidos a El Salvador." The woman's voice echoed over the aircraft's PA system, bringing me out of my sleep and into a world of a clear blue sky and a lush green landscape below. We were descending into the San Salvador International airport and upon landing, we quickly found ourselves surrounded by towering palm trees, boisterous traffic and bustling families who had come to retrieve their loved ones. The air was thick and the bright sun wrapped its rays around our bodies, presenting us with a warmth we were no longer experiencing back home.

I was with a small team from work and we were spending the week away from our Charlotte-sphere to visit our partner affiliate in El Salvador, who invites several volunteer groups from the United States each year. By definition, you could say this was a mission trip, and that definition left me feeling hesitant as I boarded the plane that first day. Mission trips are traditionally defined as the mobilization of a Christian missionary for a short period of time ranging from days to a year to a malnourished or undeserved community with a packaged bundle of wealth, resources, knowledge and beliefs. With words like evangelical and Christian tourism floating near by, it wasn't hard for me to form adverse feelings of what my trip to El Salvador might be like. What did my bundle look like and what did I intend to do with it? What did we, as an organization, intend to do with it?

El Salvador is bright and bold and beautiful. As densely populated as it is, volcanic summits and lush green canopies make most of the countryside look unstirred by human touch. We spent some of our afternoons exploring these areas, from an afternoon on the clear waters of Lake Coatepeque to one spent on a fourth-generation coffee farm nestled in the mountains outside of Ahuachapán. The capital city of San Salvador, however, is constantly stirring with activity; it's streets lined with vibrant store fronts and open air markets where the scent of pupusas toasting on griddles lingers in the air.

As important as it was to explore the country's people, land and culture, we were also there to work, and more specifically, we were there to help a father and his three year old daughter move into a home of their own. Alongside a Mason, the homeowner and a few neighborhood helpers, we were building that home from the ground up. I could probably count the number of resources used to construct the home on just two hands and we spent four days using those hands to mix mortar and chispa, fill and sand cinder block walls and compact layers (upon layers) of sand for the floor's foundation. When we arrived on the work site earlier that week, the walls of the home were almost four feet high and the day we left, the home was almost ready for interior finishings, a roof and tile floor.

My knowledge of El Salvador prior to this trip was minimal and my exposure to it's culture was nonexistent. With the exception of a number of articles and research materials I read weeks before, I was going into this experience knowledgeable but unfamiliar. I had the understanding that I am a visitor and can only respect the culture and nature of the community I was to be exposed to. 

I was the malnourished— learning from and serving with— devouring this experience entirely. 

The hesitancy I felt the very first day of our trip quickly faded as I realized that trips with Habitat were not like normal mission trips to begin with. For almost twenty years, we have worked closely with Habitat El Salvador in a mutual partnership of service and friendship and we spent that week talking with those in the community we worked in, gaining insight to their desires and hopes for the future. We listened and they were grateful for that. This trip undoubtedly changed who I am, how I interact with people and how I view culture's different from my own, which is something I find invaluable to the work that I do.

Every opportunity to travel is an opportunity to grow and learn more about a world we think we know.