Take kindly the counsel of the years...

i cannot count the number of times i have heard women say this January, "this is our year ladies!" (for some reason 2009 becoming 2010 wasn't that big of a deal for guys i guess). It's as if the striking of midnight released a new tide to the shore, a new story to our lives. But our stories are our own. they are connected. we are connected. not even a moment's breath separated last year from this. the physical ailments that plagued us weeks ago still linger. the frustrations of relationships. the uncertainty of employment. the stresses that weighed down our souls do not dissipate with the chiming of a clock or the dropping of a ball on a crowed New York night. no, they do not go swiftly. they do not go kindly. yet, if my memory fails me not, somehow the years have a way of slowly sending these tides back to the ocean. things that vexed me in the turning of 2006 into 2007 seem like distant shadows, memories of lessons learned. and somehow joys remain. somehow we are still here. somehow the sun still shines. Max Ehrman wrote:

"With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,

it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful.

Strive to be happy."

Nirvana

Tom Waits reading Charles Bukowski's Nirvana

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HVVzCURucaA#

Long time no write...

I have been "home" now a little over 2 months. Traveling like crazy since i have been back, work, non-work... It is a strange place in life to be. Wonderful, hard, strange. These last few months have been trying. I have spent so much time worrying about what is next, then i realized, life. Life is next. It is now. It is all around. We have a one hundred percent chance of dying, but living is up to us. I don't want to die with my last thought being, "i wish i lived more than 60% of the time." (or even 98% of the time) 

I am approaching a month of being gone from nashville. It seems like this summer is flying by, yet as I pause for a moment, it has been such a wonderful one. The list of things done (in no particular order)

1. Caving (with a great woman and my dog- maybe the dog wasn't such a good idea)

2.Hang Gliding (always a pleasure)

3. Getting back into the climbing gym

4. Going sea kayaking (with an incredible man and some pretty fantastic sea lions)

5. Hiking

6. Frisbee

7. Slacklining

8. Learning how to do a front hand spring

9. Shows (for those of you who don't know i am back on the road with Miss Wilson)

10. Working at the Local Taco (great food, better margaritas) 

11. Doing video with Waymore's Outlaws

12. Going jet skiing with my mom

13. Reading

14. Painting

15. Friggin' loving today

I know that there is so much more that has been going on, but life is still moving and i need some sleep to prepare for tomorrow. 

be still. 

be loved.

H.A.T.E.

High Altitude Tourettes Experience better known as HATE or skiing in the alps. living in these mountains, it is something you have to do at least once... or only once. hahahaha. i actually held my own, until i didn't understand the swiss hill rating system. um. well. i am walking again.

i am up to my ears in reading right now. Beautiful. i can't get over it. or through it apparently. but bit by bit, i am forming thoughts about where my life shall lead next.

spring has arrived. the flowers are beginning to bloom. color everywhere. the white is subsiding and life is new. how i have longed for warm weather. come quickly!!!

just a few thoughts for now. more to come.

be still. be loved.

far and near and everywhere in between...

Learn to teach. Follow to lead. Live to show the Way. Love. just love.

Months pass. The wonderings begin. where to next? Oh how i miss so many at home and oh how i will miss those here. My head has been spinning with thoughts, frustrations, questions. We stop growing, we stop learning, we stop living when we stop asking questions.

Life is a curious thing. So filled with ugliness and beauty, sorrow and joy, weeping and laughter. we live in the tension. we live in the in between. it is in the valley between the mountains where things grow. Here, wine grapes. I live at one end of the Rhone Valley. Known for its red wine... this is a beautiful thing. but that is besides the point. the point is this: today i went for a walk. the mountains were covered with snow filled clouds. but the valley shown magnificently clear. i was amazed at how green the grass in the valley shone, spring is near. the sign of new life. the sign of hope. i continued walking to the small, and by small i mean tiny church here in Huemoz. Out in the courtyard is a swing set with two seats that fling you graciously closer to the heavens. i sat on the taller one and in a burst of laughter and song, i sang. loud. in fact another girl staying at L'abri who is from Romania walked by and laughed along with me. it is the good life. it is a good life. life, in its essence is good.

my ponderings continue. caught somewhere between faith and doubt, i am alive. i am well.

be still. be loved.

"history, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, however, if faced with courage, need not be lived again." maya angelou

the snow lay softly on the mountains this morning. it has snowed much in these last few days. i spent all of yesterday shoveling snow. i even conned some local kids to shovel with me by saying that if they shoveled one of the walks they could use the snow for a fort. i love kids. ha. my bones are sore this morning. i am tired, but alive and well.

i am learning so much about growing and moving forward. moving on. moving up. growing endlessly toward heaven blue skies. i think that i have such a fondness for mountains because they stretch themselves, longing so much for the sky that the erupt from the ground, contradicting gravity and silently conversing with the stars they succeed at the impossible.

living in a house with 27 other people (give or take 1-5 people passing through at a time) makes life very interesting. everyone knows your arguments, your sadness, your laughter, your socks. i came with 14 pair of socks and last time i checked, 6 are accounted for. there are 2 functioning showers, 4 functioning toilets, 1 kitchen, mismatched plates, mugs and silverware... we share everything from our lives and sorrows to our beds, clothes, snow pants, songs and absurd stories. there is rarely, if ever, silence in the house. there is this hodge podge of beliefs, styles and dreams. it is a mosaic. it is as beautiful as stained glass and can be as fragile too. i am amazed every day at my own selfishness living with this many other souls. i feel old. i feel young. i feel free.

life is meant to be lived moment by moment. drinking in all of it. soaking it 'til our bones are full of it's magic and wonder. i cannot change the things that have been. i cannot make them any different, but i do not have to keep living in that place. the pheonix dies in the fire then rises from the ash. stoke this fire then i will burn this fortress down. i will fly. i am.

be still.
be loved.

questions...

it is the question beneath the questions beneath the questions. it is the question that drives us to study theology, philosophy, science, art, anything really... we ask the greater questions of life and death, God and pain because, when it boils down to it, we want to know one thing... "do you love me? (am i even loveable?) then this question poses others like: why? why not? what is this pounding in my soul? we seek truth, we seek God (or even to know the existence of God) because we truly just want to know if we are loved. it is all we hope for. all we want is for someone to love us.
I have been decompressing my image of God over these last few years and in the silence i have found, to quote a song, that "a voice rises within me saying hold on my child, i'll give you strength, i'll give you hope, just stay a little while. i believe in the sun even when it is not shining and i believe in God, even when there's no one there."
today was a hard day. i long for the familiar. to be in the company of people who know me, know me well. to sit and read with my dog at my feet. to have coffee with my dad, sit in the kitchen with my mom, play catch with my sister... the comforts of home.
i sat in a chapel today weeping. i sang with a broken voice through the tears as i looked back on the life i have had. it has been anything but orderly, nothing like i planned it to be, far from what i had originally hoped. yet i am not disappointed. i am glad at who i am. to feel pain deeply is to enter into a beautifully broken world, to see colors brighter than before, to cry and laugh and feel all of it. to sit in a tiny church in the swiss alps and know that i am loved... this is goodness.
my roommate from england told me this today and i cling to her words, "this day will pass annie, and don't forget that you are lovely through all of this, it's beautiful to be broken."

ask.
be still.
be loved.