be.here.now.

I was having a conversation with a friend earlier this week and she was encouraging me to practice being more present. I agreed with her wholeheartedly. Not sooner than "yeah, totally" left my lips my brain had taken off on a spiral How am I going to get anything done if I'm just being present? If I don't think about the future, am I just going to look back 10 years from now and realize that I've done nothing? That's one of my biggest fears, I'm not sure how this is going to work???? She saw me up in my head, freaking out, and asked what was going on. I verbalized the dialogue. She looked at me and laughed. "So, you're worrying right now, about how in the future, you'll look back and realize you haven't done anything?" yeah. Its as ridiculous as it sounds.

Elizabeth Gilbert says it this way in her book Eat Pray Love:

Here's what I caught myself thinking about in meditation this morning. I was wondering where I should live once this year of traveling has ended. I don't want to move back to New York just out of reflex. Maybe a new town, instead. Austin is supposed to be nice. And Chicago has all that beautiful architecture. Horrible winters, though. Or maybe I'll live abroad. I've heard good things about Sydney ... If I lived somewhere cheaper than New York, maybe I could afford an extra bedroom and then I could have a special meditation room! That'd be nice, I could paint it gold. Or maybe a rich blue. No, gold. No, blue...

Finally noticing this train of thought, I was aghast. I thought: Here you are in India, in an Ashram in one of the holiest pilgrimage sites on earth. And instead of communing with the divine, you're trying to plan where you'll be meditating a year from now in a home that doesn't yet exist in a city yet to be determined. How about this, you spastic fool-how about you try to meditate right here, right now, right where you actually are?

The Lord says it this way.

"only in returning to me and resting in me will you be saved. In quietness and confidence is your strength." -isa 30:15


(my friend, Hope, praying on the roof of an ashram we visited while in India)

mates: part one

June 16, 2010
5:40am. Standing in line with Crystal and Justin for the free Mumford and Sons show at the Firefly. The line stretches down the block and around the corner. Justin wanted to camp out to make sure we'd make it in, Crystal didn't think that would be necessary. We make it in. Barely.

June 17,2010
1:40am. Leaving westport with Crystal after a post show hang with Ben Lovett and Ted Dwane, of Mumford and Sons. Really sweet guys. Really sweet accents.

Hell of a day! ;)

part two to follow. when I get my pictures uploaded. and after I get some sleep.

beautiful things

The other day (or three months ago) Bethany had just gotten back from Nashville where her friend had shared with her this song. She told me about it, "Its really neat. The lyrics are 'You make beautiful things out of the dust...you make beautiful things out of us' I know it sounds a little cheesy, but its really good!" The next day on the way to a meeting we listened to it in the car. Instant favorite! It was playing pretty much non-stop that first month at our house. Then we moved on to other favorites and different seasons. I'd think about it every now and then, but it was mostly forgotten, stored in between Great Lake Swimmers and Hem.

The other night at the Gathering KB sang a "new" song. The lyrics started, "all this pain, I wonder if I'll ever find my way ... ". Bethany and I looked at each other and practically squealed! Back in March this was a just a really sweet song. Back in March I doubt if either of us were ready to receive the fullness of it and the reality it calls out. Well, probably Bethany was, I sure wasn't. I sat there during the message writing the lyrics over and over. Willing them into my heart. They have a whole new meaning this side of June.

Three months later. Sunday. A little dusty, a little weary, and worse for wear. In the throes of transition. " ... hope is springing up from this old ground ... " :)





"Arise, my darling, my beautiful one. See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone ... the season of singing has come ... Arise, come my darling; my beautiful one, come with me." Song of Solomon 2:10-13