whew. deep breath. a good friend from the past recently reminded me of something i used to preach to myself and anyone who would listen - "reckless abandon" - to Jesus, to trust in God, to the unknown of the future. the whole idea is pretty amazing and terrifying at the same time. reckless implies uncertainty. abandoning yourself to something you can't explain, and to a future you can't predict and isn't necessarily safe. closing your eyes, opening your hands and trusting yourself to Someone who promises they've got you and they know what they're doing.
and so i'm channeling my former self - that brave, broken girl who walked through the pain that came with living and loving and threw herself off the cliff - into life, into relationships, into risk, into love, into sacrifice - screaming reckless abandon all the way down. that's how i got to san francisco in the first place.
with this in mind, i am privileged to share with you some of the abundant overflow that i've been experiencing lately - in the quiet times, in the touch of a friend, in the words of a poet. i pray that this would give you eyes to see the love of the God who quietly calls us forward to reckless abandon.
things that bring me joy today:
the tiny hand of my nephew ty. born at 27 weeks, i cannot help but believe that this little guy is going to teach my family a lot about strength and hope and life.
sitting in our neighborhood coffee shop with meg and robin, writing about joy while 80's music (reo speedwagon and michael jackson!?) plays over the speakers. it's like this moment was ordained especially for me.
lying in bed at 6:00 am, listening to the too-late-in-the-season-but-we-need-it rain, thinking about how water has the ability to cleanse, renew, and bring life. taking a deep breath and letting God's Spirit fill me and wash over me like the falling rain.
yoga to the people and the way it kicks my butt on a monday night, and then spending time with and being unconditionally welcomed into a community of people experimenting (with room for failure) at what it means to love God, to love other people, and to live life together in san francisco.
one word - costanoa. costanoa means time away from the city. it means sitting in traffic on two-lane highway 1 for two hours because of an airshow at a small airport - but not even caring because we've got good music and meg is getting a tan anyway. costanoa means getting massages that bring all of the stuff we've been trying to avoid to the surface, but we know that's okay because they need to get to the surface before we can deal with them. it means long dinners in front of a fireplace, good wine and chocolate in bed, reading anne lamott and falling asleep. tent cabins and adirondack chairs. creepy cats, green mountains and coastal bluff trails. quiet and space to think and pray and cry and heal a bit. costanoa means special time with a best friend. i went scared to face the quiet, and came back feeling stronger and just a bit closer to whole. one foot in front of the other.
emails from new friends (who feel like old friends) with poems that make me cry in that healing, cathartic way. the poetry they send me - reminding me why poetry is one of life's gifts that i should unwrap more often. "a strong woman is a woman who craves love/like oxygen or she turns blue choking. a strong woman is a woman who loves/strongly and weeps strongly and is strongly/terrified and has strong needs. A strong woman is strong/in words, in action, in connection, in feeling" marge piercy
staff lunch with coworkers who are more like friends, so much so that sometimes i forget myself and get a little too sassy.
cupcakes and family and best friends and new friends. scarves and hoodies and skinny jeans with flats. 70's orange crock pots and chocolate chip cookies in red tins from minneapolis.
the fact that sometimes my cup doesn't overflow and in a moment of weakness i throw it and it shatters against the wall. but in God's great mercy, there is always another cup waiting to be filled to overflow if i will pick it up.
and believe me, somehow my cup overflows...
good stuff mags. encouraged by your perspective.
ReplyDeletei love all of this.
ReplyDeleteBut especially the 'reckless abandon' part. It's so true. I remember that crazy romanticized adventurous idea I used to talk about in college. How life now mostly 'feels' so far from it. But you are right THIS is that. And its hard. But we're doing it. You're doing it.
this is beautiful
ReplyDeletethank you for sharing your sweet spirit