never-too-late

[never-too-late]

GET WEIRD!

[never-too-late]

An Interview with Jenny Slate, by Sara Black McCulloch

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Don't be scared to try new things. Trying new things is how change happens, how new doors open, how we create opportunities. Being open to experiencing new things regularly and playing along with new ideas and interests could have life changing positive consequences. No one ever got super successful by never trying anything new. No one ever healed by refusing to be open to new activities. New is good, new is growth.

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Let's build a life filled with the love others have shown us.

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“A child free from the guilt of ownership and the burden of economic competition will grow up with the will to do what needs doing and the capacity for joy in doing it. It is useless work that darkens the heart. The delight of the nursing mother, of the scholar, of the successful hunter, of the good cook, of the skillful maker, of anyone doing needed work and doing it well—this durable joy is perhaps the deepest source of human affection and of sociality as a whole.”

— Ursula K. Le Guin, from The Dispossessed (via firstfullmoon)

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throwing up so hard right now

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I think it's an unrecognized practice to allow yourself to outgrow and shed versions of yourself that were more socially successful than who you want or need to be now. Not every new chapter is bigger and bolder and hotter, I think that's a very modern social media "glow up" mindset and doesn't actually have any room for what real transformation looks like. Sometimes we change exactly as we need to and it's not what anyone else was hoping for and that's part of it being important and true.

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God is in the Rain

and I ain't been seeing much of God lately :/

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The year isn't the only thing that's new... p.1

It's been a month... A month... since leaving L'Abri. The term ended December 5th. I left Switzerland with my friend and fellow student, Rachel. We meant to travel alone but were greeted in the airport by a familiar stray puppy with nowhere to stay, named Jonah. We travelled to her home in Norfolk, UK and spent the night at her parent's house.

The next day we all packed into Rachel's car and headed to Cambridge. We dropped Jonah off at a hostel and proceeded to our final destination: the home of an old friend who had once saved Rachel's life. We camped there for the rest of the week, and what a week it was.

That night we got prettied up and ready for our first social event since retreating to the Alps. To others it was a Gala Night Pantomime, to us it was a reintroduction to society. That's where I met Harry.

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girl i am out of here.

art by: @stolenchapstick

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It's now the twenty day mark before my flight to Geneva. The future is coming faster than ever before and I fear I may be swept up in it. A month ago, I had no plans to leave the city, let alone the country.

I've always wanted to die quickly, on impact, so it's fitting this version of myself should meet it's end with so little warning. Whether I physically come back or not, the person who gets on that plane will never step foot on Canadian soil again.

I'll be at L'Abri (french for the shelter) until the fifth of December. Where I'm going from there, I have no idea. I hope to spend the Christmas season with family, but family is a much more fluid concept than I ever before realized.

Sometime between here and then, my first nephew will be born. Not by blood, of course. My real sister is as dead to me as our father, who rests now in a box underneath my desk.

Being absent for the first months of his life seems a cruel kindness; nothing ruins a friendship quite like the truth, and lack of sleep tends to unlock the tightest lips.

I feel crushed by the weight of words left unsaid. "The truth will set you free," so they say, but she doesn't want to hear the truth.

So is the cost of freedom... the love of those ensnared by lies?

God, what do we have to do to be Free?

What do I have to do to be Free?