Again and again, and forever again.

I'm certainly an adventurer who appreciates a good dosage of spontaneity, but I also value the personal routines and rituals I've developed over time. They're constantly changing, but my favorites are what I like to call "the bookends."

Each day's first bookend? After my alarm sounds and before I get out of bed to stumble to the shower, I stop to ponder what I am most looking forward to in the day before me. It serves as a bit of a "warm up" for the usually busy agenda that awaits my attention. Sometimes it's a big event that I'm looking forward to, other times it's a meal or a nap. It's always varied, though. It helps me highlight how much there is to look forward to in each day, which propels me through those things I might be dreading.

The last bookend developed pretty organically. I "worked" (let's be honest, I was enjoying my spot as a barista too much to call it work) at Starbucks for quite a while in college. I began asking each and every customer and Starbucks partner I encountered what the best part of their day had been, inspiring them to slow down from the hurry of their lives and consider the rich, vibrant pieces. With time, several regular customers became eager to share their "best part" with me when they saw my car in the parking lot, and many stopped to ask me the same question when it had slipped my mind. This simple interaction became one of the most treasured pieces of my everyday life, and it taught me to appreciate and value each person's unique journey. While living in our sorority house in college, one roommate and I would even "collect" our daily best parts on a poster inside our closet. Today, I keep this ritual alive by asking friends and family members, but also by asking myself for my own answer as a "cool down" for the day as I settle in for bed.

The bigger picture, though, is where I find the most meaning. It astounds me how often my "warm up" and "cool down" rituals do not match up. More often than not, my conclusion about the best part of my day is something so much smaller than I what I was most looking forward to. The littlest opportunities to be happy tend to take command of my entire day if I let them. Today's source of bliss? Ryan Adams sneaking through the speakers while I write. Never fails to make everything else melt away for a moment.

Go ahead. Try it.



"Great opportunities present themselves at the most unexpected moments, in surprisingly unexpected ways. What's most important is being open and being flexible." - LVL, Arizona State University

"Renew thyself completely each day; do it again and again, and forever again." - Henry David Thoreau

There are no mistakes, just learning experiences.

I've become somewhat fascinated with this twenty-something stage of life I'm currently navigating... or trying to navigate, at least. Conversations between my once inseparable friends are now separated by miles and office hours, but we stay in touch with text messages and brief phone calls that are usually riddled with the same cyclical topics: I never saw this coming. Did I make the right decision? I want more out of life. Am I on the right path? I miss college. Where do I go from here?

Within my best friend circle, though, there is a resounding emphasis on the Did I make the right decision? dilemma, and I must assume this is the case for plenty of people sitting at the same point in their lives. I know I'm not the only one who has felt a bit paralyzed by uncertainty or regret at one point or another, so I thought I'd share a tidbit I've found extremely helpful.

About a week ago, after becoming fed up with the way my mind was stuck analyzing the same decisions over and over, I started looking at things differently. Intentionally. And I can honestly say it's making me a much happier person. Call it waving the white flag, but I decided to give in to my anxiety about the near and distant past. Who says life is full of rights and wrongs? We're all finding our way through different pathways, and no road map or compass could ever hold all the answers we'd ask for. And let's be honest, there's no way to really know if it was right or wrong, anyway. 

So why not switch it up? Rather than fretting over those seemingly life-changing forks in the road, I've resolved with myself to make the best possible decision in the situation I'm given, then consider it not right nor wrong, but action and experience worth learning from. For someone like me, the action itself is what matters. Complacency, settling, and being stuck in one place without progress seem quite miserable, and actually doing something seems to be the only way to a better experience. 

Take a risk. Allow yourself to reflect. Learn from it.
If you successfully do that, you're inevitably going to end up right where you belong.

"Don't get so overwhelmed about your choices that you become paralyzed. Just take a step forward in any direction and try something out, even if you're scared or unsure of the outcome. That's what this age is all about; there are no mistakes, just learning experiences." --Nerissa G., University of California, Santa Barbara in Life After College: The Complete Guide to Getting What You Want

"The past is beautiful like the darkness between fireflies..." -Mason Jennings

I miss everything. And that's not an exaggeration.

I am (and will always be) vulnerable to nostalgia. For as long as I can recall, my friends and family have been teasing me about my ongoing "remember when...?" comments. When people ask my biggest fear, my first answer is always "forgetting" and when they ask what I'm afraid to forget, the answer is "everything." I panic when I can't remember something, and that's becoming a growing issue. I use Twitter as virtual sticky notes, quick quips about things worth noting. I even write to remember, which explains why creative nonfiction is my favorite genre and I'm always scribbling lists on scrap pieces of paper: lists of things to do, lists of favorite things, lists of feelings, lists of things to write about, lists of moments to remember. In fact, I've been making lists for years of things to include in the memoir I'd like to write when the chaos of life settles a bit. And it's about my own life.

It's not even that I only miss the good times. I've found that if I wait long enough, I miss the times I thought were rock bottom, too. And since realizing that, I've been able to propel myself through tough times by remembering that I'll look back at those memories with a smile, too... even if it takes a while.

I like to entertain myself by wondering what I'll miss about any given chapter of my life. For this one? The possibilities are endless. Come to think of it, that might be what marries my love for both the brink of new experience and sentimental nostalgia... The "hum of possibility" that surrounds a new experience might be the buzz about what I'll preserve as a memory later.



A few things I miss today (and that I should probably write about at some point):

Being an arm's length away from my best friends at almost all times
Kentucky sunshine on a crisp fall day while the leaves paint Chestnut Street orange
Still learning from an inspirational English teacher long after graduation
Pulling all-nighters to write papers about books I didn't have time to read
Homecoming memories with my favorite people in my favorite place
Riding around with my high school friends, knowing that everything would turn out all right
Caring about nothing but the moment riding bikes around Coldwater, Michigan
Watching the world wake up at 5 am from my favorite corner of the universe: Starbucks
Racing down Smallhouse Road to make it home in time for my high school curfew
Crying my eyes out in a teal room, circa 2007
Learning the ways of the world from my sisters' perspectives
A life-changing professor named Walker Rutledge and his mind-opening lectures

Lessons from a Starbucks drive-thru

When I worked at Starbucks, I dealt with notoriously joyful "regulars" and notoriously grumpy "regulars." For the former, the cup of coffee seemed like an added delight in their days, something they looked forward to. For the latter, the cup of coffee was sustenance, something they needed more than they wanted.

I would always contemplate their differences with another barista. How could one customer be so delightful while the next was such a burden to serve? Our theory: everyone has multiple forks in the road, chances to do something differently. Perhaps those inevitably grumpy people regret their decision and aren't satisfied with the life they're living.

I think about those contrasting customers more often than you'd believe. Now I'm just determined to be the joyful person in the drive-thru window. And I think it's less right-decision vs. wrong-decision and more learn-from-every-decision mixed with a little bit of delight-in-the-simple-things. Like cups of coffee.


But I could be completely wrong.

Holy whirlwind.

Holy whirlwind. It's been one heck of a ride already.

I have finally found time to settle into a comfortable spot and put some words on a blank page. I've done myself a huge disservice by not finding the time to read and write recently, but when I'm not running around in chaos for my job, I'm squeezing phone calls with familiar voices or a little bit of shut-eye. I knew this would be a crazy year, but I certainly didn't see all of this coming.

It has only been a couple of months since I left the comfort of Bowling Green behind, but I have learned so much about myself and about the world since then. When I embarked on my journey, I expected it to produce such results, but maybe not so quickly.

If I've learned anything, it's that a little bit of fresh air mixed with the sweet smell of the caffeinated nectar most people call "coffee" is enough to make me feel at home again. I write this as I sit in an adirondack chair on a porch outside a rustic local coffee shop where gusts of roasting coffee swirl with the scent of unfinished wood. This might be my new favorite place in the world.

Life has thrown me a few curveballs, yet I have nothing to say but "thank you." I am continually surprised by the ways of the world, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

If you are brave enough...

"If you are brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting and set out on a truth-seeking journey, and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue, and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher, and if you are prepared - most of all - to face some very difficult realities about yourself . . . then truth will not be withheld from you." --Eat, Pray, Love


Could there be a more perfect quote for this journey I have embarked on? I am currently sitting in a Starbucks window seat perch in downtown Lincoln, Nebraska. I've caught myself saying "y'all" and talking about how things are at home (these Nebraska residents think my state is as foreign as I think theirs is) multiple times, and every now and then I remember I won't be making the trip home for another TEN weeks. That's double the longest amount of time I've been away before. 


People keep asking if I'll get homesick, but I really don't think I will. As the saying goes, home is where your heart is, and my heart is always most satisfied on the edge of limitless possibility. If that really is the case, home is anywhere I go... 

I am reborn; everything is new.

A couple of days ago, a very inspired and understanding friend of mine (Caitlin Pike, for those of you who know her) sent me a gem of a quote. The best part? It's not from a famous hero or well-known author. Just a guy blogging about his adventures in Romania as a Fulbrighter. His name is Kerry Glamsch, and if you're interested you can check out his blog here: http://glamschinromania.blogspot.com/ 

“Occasionally, if I think about my future, about being so rootless, I get a slight panic, a shortness of breath, and I find myself grasping at anything that resembles permanence. This is my journey, to learn to let go, to trust that the river of life will always continue to flow, and though the scenery and water changes, the river itself will always remain. Sometimes, I am so elated that I want to sing out in the middle of a crowded park. Sometimes, it’s all I can do not to put my arm around the shoulder of a stranger sitting beside me. And though I am occasionally so blue that my eyes ache with tears, I have never, ever ceased to be amazed by the exceptional beauty of life, and the indomitable human spirit. I am reborn; everything is new.”

I can completely identify with his ponderings. That "rootless life" is the one I see ahead for the next couple of years, and yes - it is exciting and riveting and full of possibility. At the same time, a certain bit of hesitation is very real. When you've been counting on the same people, places, and things in a small, sleepy Kentucky hometown your entire life, the whispering promise of the rest of the world seems awfully enormous. Alas, much like Glamsch expressed, this is my journey: to live and let go, to chase experience, and to "be amazed by the exceptional beauty of life, and the indomitable human spirit." How can you ask for anything more?