Plans and pipe dreams

I stepped off the plane and into the fast paced rhythm of the city as if I had never left. 

Paralyzed with the desire to stay, I found myself scheming ways to make it happen. Drop out of school. Rent an apartment overlooking the Brooklyn bridge. Work three jobs just to pay rent. And then I would never have to leave again. And although that sounds like a perfect plan to me, I have much to learn before I embark on that one. Like how to do my own taxes. Grown up things, I suppose. But that plan is not on the back burner, I assure you. It is just waiting to be fulfilled. My days of five-floor walk ups and metro cards are closer than they were yesterday and that alone excites me. 

You see, the difference between a plan and a pipe dream lies solely on where you place it among your priorities. I plan to graduate college in four years. I plan to live in New York City. And then there's a pipe dream. Like that day when I was a little girl that I decided that working as the person who rode on the back of a dump truck would be an enjoyable and exhilarating career. That could have been a plan if I wanted it to. Let's be glad it's not. At this moment in time, those are the only things concerning my future that I am certain of. Some may call it the lack of planning, others may call it spontaneity. It doesn't really matter. What does matter, is that I am excited for my future, a feeling that I fear very few experience these days. 

Anyways, back to New York. 

I have never been so content with the feeling of being alone. And it's ironic, really. There are moments when I felt alone, until I realized that there are seven million other people here that feel the same way. So I was never actually alone in the first place. That's a comforting epiphany. I suppose anonymity would have been a better word for the way I felt. But I do not wish to remain anonymous forever. 

I realize that I only write about leaving the city. And I'm not exactly sure why that is. Perhaps the emotion of walking away from this place is more overwhelming in the moment. I often write harder and more clearly about what hurts. But I will say this. I cannot wait for the day when I don't have to leave and I can write about how much I love this place. Until then, I will continue scrolling through my camera roll on my phone. And I will be convincing my mom and everyone else surrounding me that this is a good idea and far more than a pipe dream. 

See you soon, New York. You never let me down. 

One day.

There is pleasure in the process.

What a difference 84 days makes.

I am learning to be content with the circumstances I have been given instead of waiting for them to change before I can be happy.

I am learning to worship my way through the things that come in between Sundays.

I am learning to embrace the revolution inside of me. Even when nobody is looking (which, I have found, is the hardest of all).

I am learning to find pleasure in the processes of life. God's promises can be found in the process and not at the end of it. Promises of perfect peace, guidance, clarity, prosperity, grace, and a limitless love.

And I am learning that all of these things are part of the setting that God has put me in. A setting that has taught me more in 84 days than I have learned in my twelve years of grade school.  This is right where God wants me to be.

It's all about perspective people.

And yes, these things are all in the present tense because they are in progress, and will most likely still be in progress 3 years from now.

Oh the places I've found

I have immensely enjoyed my time in Charlotte. I am slowly finding my favorite places to spend my time and the company in which I choose to keep. There has been much comfort to be found in the shadows of the city. 

The fall color palette here is amazing. If there was such thing as unlimited storage on an iPhone, I assure you that the majority of my camera roll would consist of random photos of the mounds of golden leaves that are gathered at the trunk of every tree. 

My new favorite spot for blog brainstorming is Not Just Coffee ( found in the 7th Street Public Market ). Between the industrialized decor and eclectic customers, there is an environment that inevitably encourages and sparks creativity. Which is exactly what I have needed. There is only so much creativity that can be found within the four, white, concrete walls of my dorm room. 

Meet LK. She's pretty great. 

I have a feeling that these tables will hold stories of late night coffee dates with people who are yet to be named and memories that are waiting to be created. And I just can't wait. 

Bring the storms

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am made strong. "    

-2 Corinthians 12:9-10

It is so rewarding to me to be able to look back on the person I was a year ago and the route in which I chose to process my thoughts. Now I am able to acknowledge that things have changed, thankfully.

Coincidentally, my topic of discussion during this time last year was the same as it is now: how things seem to fall apart during the fall. That may be the most cliche thing I have said in weeks, but it is the honest truth. However, I have learned that it is much more beneficial for me to view these "things" as vulnerable matters in my life, rather than weaknesses. There is a negative connotation that comes along with the word, "weakness." Whereas "vulnerability" is a word that only reminds me of space. Space for an intervention. Space for growth. And space for His peace that passes all understanding.

My discovering of this passage was a divine intervention in every way possible and it has served as the anchor for my sanity these past couple of weeks. Because of it, I am constantly reminded that there is a source of peace and grace that goes far beyond the surface and is capable of calming the most consuming storms that stir inside me. The best work is done in me when I am in my weakest moments. And I learned very quickly that if you ask for growth, it is growth that you will receive. But it may not come in the way that you hoped it would.

I challenge myself everyday, and maybe you should too, to be thankful for the storms that God sends my way. They may break me down to the simplest and most vulnerable form of myself, but only to rebuild me stronger than I was before.

Bring the Rain

I stumbled across a scripture today that really echoed in my head. Although only a mere seven words, it encompasses just enough to form goosebumps on my arms.

"He will come to us like rain." -Hosea 6:3

Ironically enough, there was a consistent rainfall for the majority of the day. And if you did not already know this about me, I am as much of a pluviophile as a person could be. That is, someone who finds joy and a peace of mind during rainy days.  There is an overwhelming feeling of serenity when I hear the lull of raindrops gathering outside my window. And even though the morning stroll to class was a bit brisk, the soft mist that fell on my head en route was not in the least bit inconvenient. After discovering this scripture, the thought crossed my mind that maybe, just maybe, I am so fond of these so-called somber days because of this very reason. "He will come to us like rain." The more I say it, and the more I read that statement, the more I am certain that this is the underlying reason as to why I find comfort in crying skies.

Tendrils

It is difficult for me to grasp the concept that I have been at college for a mere 27 days. Twenty-seven days of life lessons that vary in weight. Twenty-seven days of new friends, some of which I would already willingly place in the lineup of my wedding party. I have grown to love the early hours of the morning considering that the obvious freshman in me decided that it would be a good idea to schedule all of my classes before sunrise. Coach Dixon, when you told me to never schedule a class before 9:30 a.m., you were not kidding. And I admit, with little dismay, that you were right and I should have listened. There is no such thing as being a morning person when one is also a college student. However, one of my favorite parts of my mornings is to stroll past the music conservatory where one can hear the lullaby of aspiring musicians perfecting their scales. And although it never fails to put a smile on my face, it is a constant reminder of one of the aspects that I miss most about my home in Beaufort. I have yet to find a place where I can simply sit down and play the piano. For a person who has grown up with a musical instrument at arms length at all times, it is a challenging adjustment to make. But I am learning. Slowly, but surely. I am learning that my life is here now. These are the park benches that I will write my story from. (At least for the next four years.) These are the rooftops that I will stargaze from. These are the streets that will become the tendrils to the web that could lead to a love greater than I could ever fathom. Just the very thought of that excites me. Then again, how could it not? Here I am. Staring with a young-hearted, wide-eyed gaze at the first step of my life. And in reference to limitations, the sky is just the beginning.

City so nice, they named it twice

I have been postponing this blog post since I returned from New York City. This is due to the fact that I am STILL struggling to gather enough words to accurately express my feelings concerning those 302 square miles of perfection.

New York City is a place for people. Quite a generalization, right? But you see, it's just that simple. I could not count on my hands and feet the different walks of life I saw, if I tried. It is a place where there is little time to stop walking and study the wardrobe choices or the cosmetic appearance of the passerby. And because of this, there is little time to judge.

 Among all the cliche things that we did while in the city, one of my favorite pastimes was to lounge in Central Park and absorb the chaos. And if you're lucky, you'll find a spot atop a boulder that allows you to overlook the park AND the skyline. I could have spent an entire day there and would have never noticed nor cared that time was passing slowly.

I found myself being swallowed by a city and its 8 million residents. Oddly enough, I did not mind. The anonymity of the bustling streets was liberating considering that at home, I am unable to spend 15 minutes in my favorite coffee shop without being approached. I realize that that is a little harsh. However,  there are days when I would love nothing more than to slip into an oversized sweatshirt and fall into the flow of things without being noticed. New York City is the place to do that.

Tears started strolling the minute I buckled the seatbelt in the taxi that was designated to take us to the airport, and again when our plane took off. One would think that I was leaving a love behind. I was. A love for a city and the millions of beautiful reminders that it too, could be my home. 

My feet were sore and blistered from walking the streets of that sleepless city. But there was/is an ever present sense of awe instilled in me. Yes, I was raised in a small seaside town on the opposing side of the country. But my home is wherever I am. And I promise you, I will be back there some day. 

Q&A about the summer romance that gave me whiplash

As a young adult, (and I'm sure the majority of my friends could attest to this), I am constantly asked the question, "how's your love life?" My response usually being, "what love life?" Not only is this one of my least favorite questions, but I feel as though the person asking the question is rarely prepared for the answer I would love to give them. Which is why I often resort to offering my "love life" or the lack lackthereof as a sense of comic relief. Self-deprivation probably is not the healthiest, but in instances such as this one, it seems to be the easiest way to exit the conversation.

This is my answer, as of this moment in time…

How is my love life? It is as good as the romantic aspect of an 18-year old's life could be. A really good friend of mine (not saying any names, Sydney Boggs) brought to my attention that at such a young age, one is only capable of loving as much as they know how. Sure, you may think it is love. But there is a love that fulfills a capacity much larger than I could ever fathom. She is pretty wise, if ya ask me. Boy, am I thankful that I have a friend like her who speaks clarity and reality into my life.

And then came summer.

If only for a short amount of time, I was given a small glimpse of what it is like to be in love. I got lost counting stars and dancing in parking lots. I found myself checking my phone every three minutes hoping for a response to a text message. And I often found myself awkwardly smiling in response to those messages in the most public places. I fell hard and fast. It was far more enjoyable than the picture I had painted in my head, and something that I struggled to describe in words. It was a feeling that stirred inside of me and produced an ever-present smile. I could claim that it has been a long time since that feeling made it's way through my veins. But quite honestly, I cannot remember a time when I have been happier.

Insert the cliche statement of "all good things must come to an end." Which I strongly disagree with. But somewhere in the freedom and spontaneity of summer, (and much to my dismay), I wandered. Wandered away from a feeling that I had hoped was there to stay. For all I know, this fondness could be buried underneath the anxious feeling of a fresh and quickly approaching chapter in my life. Time will tell.

Yes, I am confused. Confused about how I feel and what I want most. But confusion often leads to growth. And from growth comes strength. So I am okay with being confused, for now.

P.S. You'll want to dance in the parking lot to this song too.

I have a sister

I have a sister. 

Before the thought of my existence pranced through my parents brains, they brought my sister, Jennie, into the world. And boy am I glad they did. 

 She is beautiful. And when I say beautiful, I mean quadruple-take beautiful. The kind of gorgeous that reaches far beneath the surface and reflects that of which her heart is made.

She is a supporter. As I sifted through old memories and messages signed at the bottom of cards (I am a bit of a hoarder when it comes to cards), Jennie's encouraging words were always present. Not to mention that each  month of my senior year of high school, she sent a bundle of cards that she had crafted from magazine clippings and inspirational quotes. Each card was labeled with a date, and I was not to read the card until that day. Yes, I have 180 cards in the dash of my car. She is THAT thoughtful. 

She is a mom. I have been blessed with an ample amount of time to watch her with Everly and Smith. And quite honestly, it is one of my favorite things to do. Her patience is mind boggling. And I am sure of the fact that those kiddos will grow up knowing that the love that their mom has for them is unshakable. 

We have developed a stronger relationship over the past few years. A relationship that I'm sure will only grow stronger over time. And it is, (dare I say), one of my favorite friendships in my life. 

I could go on and on about the things that she has done for me. Or I could say this.

I have a sister. But even better than that, I have a sister like Jennie. 

Here's to a lifetime of comic relief, nights filled with dramatic episodes of the bachelor, and plenty of PF Chang's takeout. I can't wait.

Happy Birthday, Jennie!

30 looks great on you. 

I love you. 

Where I Stand

Hey there! It has been entirely too long since we talked last. But I am to blame for that. I have been so consumed by the excitement of this new chapter that I have whole-heartedly thrown myself into. That is, a chapter that has already shown itself capable of making me happier than I could ever imagine.

Graduation was liberating.

Besides the feeling of accomplishment in regards to academics, there were so many areas in my life that I was able to release from my grasp. Most of which had a demise that was long overdue. Nowadays, one could not find a single collared shirt in my closet if they tried. My green and white student ID has found its home in a box of items that I will piddle through years from now and swear that my "awkward stage" was worse than any other. And as awful as this sounds, the relationships in my life that were connected only through my class schedule have disintegrated to almost nothing. Surprisingly, that does not bother me. After attending my college orientation, it is now very evident that my view of the world according to my small seaside town is only a miniscule preview for what is to come.

I stand in the middle ground between childhood and a series of exhilarating events that will soon begin to define the type of person I will become. From this point on, some of the relationships that I create will be those that will last a lifetime. I will commence a repertoire of my life lessons that I will preach to my own children in a matter of time. The uncertainty of the rest of my life is so very enticing.

Extreme Makeover : Blog Edition

I have spent the majority of my day giving this blog a much needed face lift. Besides the fact that it has been a bit of a ghost town as far as my thoughts are concerned, not much has changed since I created it in April of 2013. I am finally starting to get a hang of this stuff. There are a handful of noticeable differences. I'll explain.


#1

dis.tinc.tions - a difference that sets someone or something apart from other

Simply because the word "home" was not exciting enough. And because my thoughts and the things I share with you are what set me apart from the other 7 billion people on this planet. 

#2

I read that blog readers want to know who you are. What a concept. Although I feel as though I give a pretty good insight as to who I am through my writing, there are just some things that you should know in order to understand why I am the way I am. 

#3

For as long as I can remember, music has been a constant in my life. Because I was raised with an exceptional compass as to what was good and what was bad, (Sting is good, Britney spears is bad), I am positive that my iTunes library is gold. And since I am sharing almost every other aspect of my life with you, why not add this one into the mix.  

P.S.- There is a compilation of my favorite songs that plays as soon as you open my blog. These will change, so write them down! The song titles can be found at the top of the page. Enjoy!

#4

wan.der.lust - a strong desire to travel

The title is self explanatory. I felt as though this was appropriate and much needed seeing that I have many stories to tell. Although I wish I could write about travel and only that, there are so many other exciting things happening around/to me that I must share. So on the days when your itch to travel is stronger than ever, maybe this will help a little. See where I have been, and where I have yet to go.

There are more of these tabs to come so be sure to check later! Suggestions are very welcomed. :) 

Infatuation

I feel as though my topic of discussion has repeatedly been my wide-eyed gaze of my future. I will not apologize for this. However, I will recognize it.

Queen City (Charlotte, NC)

When you spend a great deal of time in the city that will soon be part of your future, the thoughts concerning the "what if's" and "maybe's" are inevitable. You take a picture of the moonlit skyline with your eyes considering the fact that before long, that view will not be such a distant memory. The left turns and roundabouts become somewhat of a second nature to you. The price of a large chocolate mousse cup at your favorite french bakery has been memorized and the change is prepared before you approach the cash register. You have begun to compile the perfect playlist that corresponds with the atmosphere in which you stand. And with those melodies, you craft scenarios in your mind that orchestrate themselves at just the right moment in the music.

Things become familiar.

Meaning "well- known from long or close association", this word that is often used in a casual manner embodies a world of curiosity all in its own. After all, curiosity is the root of change. We continue to move forward, doors are opened, and windows are closed. Simply because we are curious, and curiosity leads to alternate paths.

I become curious. Things become familiar. And from those questions and their appropriate answers, comes my life. A life that is thrilling because I have managed to wonder (and sometimes get a little lost) in the right direction. And that is a life that I am quite infatuated with.

7,225,193,621

At this moment in time, there are 7,225,193,521 people on planet Earth. By the time you take your next breath, that number will have increased. Some are lost. Some are coming home. Some craft lies in order to make it through the day. Some cannot manage to escape the truth. Some are cradling a broken heart. While others are reminiscing on the happiest moments in life. Each of these individuals has a different desire that God has placed in their heart. Each has a different point at which their vulnerability is triggered. And out of that seven billion people in the world, all you need is one.

Imagine a moment in your future when all of the scenarios you played out in your head while sitting in the desk of your high school finally play themselves out. A moment when the combination of these perfect moments become a thing you call your life. It is one of the greatest times of your existence and you get to experience it with one person. Who is standing next to you? Is it the little boy from your first grade class that always had his finger lodged up his nose? Is it the guy you always noticed strolling across the lawn of your college campus but never really took the time to learn his name? Or is it the man that frustrated you at the stop light three months ago? Who is to blame for the happiest moments in your life? Unlike most questions, this is one amongst few that cannot be answered in advance.

I am fortunate enough to have a friend that will tolerate my philosophies and opinions. Without Caitlin, I would be a complicated cluster of frustration, excitement, and genius ideas trapped in the body of an eighteen-year-old female. (Which, if you ask me, sounds like a dangerous concoction.) Earlier this week we were discussing the fact that matters have drastically changed over time. Yes, I know, that is the understatement of the century. I'll explain.

For many years now, I have listened as my parents have repeatedly told their perfect fairytale. Things were much simpler then. Relationships were not built upon the liking of an Instagram post and they were certainly not established by the current relationship status on Facebook. "Love" was not a word that was used too lightly. It was a word that described the feeling one felt when they had found their "person". Their second set of ears, their third arm, their significant other. It was/is apparent that within a few times of being in each other's company, there had never been something so crystal clear as the fact that they belonged together. I guess one could compare it to the feeling you get when you find the perfect pair of shoes, but on a level of intensity that is all its own. But the more I pondered these fairytale-like happenings, the more I realized that the world no longer revolves in this direction. Relationships are rarely built on the hearts of those involved. Instead, they rely on circumstances, mistakes, and pending opportunities to decide for them. Doesn't seem right does it? I didn't think so either. And I wish I could say that I have solved at least one of the world's problems. But the truth is, I have just as many questions as I did before the first word of this post.

Seven billion people in the world, and sometimes you only need one. Will you recognize the authenticity of infatuation when you discover it? Better yet, will you be courageous enough to pursue it?

compliments of BillieJoe and Jeremy Photography!

Bring it on!

Crazy things have been happening around here!

My sister is pregnant with Baby Stills number two! We have the privilege of meeting this sweet boy in May. Everly has been such an incredible addition to our lives. Watching her enormous personality flourish has been a blast. It is difficult for me to imagine that I could possibly love another tiny human as much as I love her. But our love is multiplied, not divided. (You like that math reference?)

I received this thing in the mail called an "acceptance letter" from Winthrop University. I'm not really sure what all the fuss is about. It was just a piece of paper that began with "Congratulations" and ended with "Welcome to Winthrop University". Which means that I AM GOING TO COLLEGE. Checks have been sent, papers have been signed, and plans have been made. I guess all of those minor panic attacks concerning report cards and the late nights spent studying really did pay off in the end. I was the girl that usually rolled her eyes when that cliche statement was thrown into a conversation. Words cannot describe how overjoyed I am to be nearing the next chapter in my life. However, the more time I spend enjoying Beaufort, the more I begin to retract my negative statements about this seaside town. I purposefully choose not to think about the fact that in five short months I will be watching my childhood and the life I have created here (best friends and family) through the rearview mirror. And as much as I hate to admit it, I will miss home. There will be no more evening jogs down Bay Street, no more perfectly painted sunset views over the glassy water on my way home everyday, and no more late arrivals due to the bridge opening. Some may see it as a bit depressing. But here is how I view the situation. There are going to be new routes to run, a different perspective of the sunset, and plenty of other things that will cause me to be tardy at the most inconvenient time possible (I am sure). It is time for a change in scenery. Bring it on Rock Hill!

And last but most definitely not least. There is a flippin' graduation cap AND gown hanging in my closet. Green and white, with a sticker on the package that has my first, middle, and last name written neatly on the front. There are approximately 60 days until I zip that sucker up and trek across the perfectly manicured football field to the seat that is designated just for me. Twelve years of eraser shavings and papers graded in red ink is coming to an end. We may want to go ahead and start making donations of tissue boxes to the Walker residence because I have a feeling that this will not be a dry-eyed experience for my parents. After all, I am the last little birdie to leave the nest. Someone buy them another dog, please.

There is not one ounce of fear in this girl's conscience at the moment. And I plan to keep it that way for as long as possible. Seeing that I am in a full sprint towards the finish line, there is no time to stop and consider the what if's and maybe's. Let's go people. Let's get this show on the road!

BillieJo and Jeremy Photography. Check them out! 

Today's Someday

Somehow I managed to cruise through the holidays with the bare minimum of blogging (meaning none).  I could proclaim that I was busy with family or just plain busy. But that would be a lie. I have not been doing much of anything lately. Which, of course, has given me plenty of time to think.

I have inevitably been launched into my final semester of my high school career. It feels just as weird to type as I'm sure it sounds. Six months from now I will no longer be dealing with a dress code penalty or my lack of knowledge concerning my locker combination. As much as I despise those two things, my life will not be it's usual disorganized, spontaneous, sometimes-bending-the-rules self. And based on my choice of descriptive words chosen to identify my current status of life, I will most likely be better off without them. Seeing that they only add to the madness. That is, the type of madness with no method.

The chaos of adolescent life exits, and enters….more madness. "What? Did you think this was going to be a smooth ride", says Life. No, no, no. I am not that naive. A life filled with graceful events and only pleasant life experiences, would result in an individual who was unable to see the world surrounding their rose-smelling, blue-skied bubble. And who wants that? "Not I" says the anxious seventeen-year-old. Throw me a curve ball every once in a while. Grant me with a perfect rain storm as I am sprinting to make it to class on time. For it is on those days, in the moments when I cannot imagine things being any worse, that I will remember times where the sun could not have shone any brighter and the smile on my face could not have stretched any farther. The day that I do not step out of my dorm room due to the sobbing sky, will be the day that I reflect on what an amazing life I have lived (so far) and all the life that is left to live. And then, just as quickly as you and I can blink, it will be ten years later and I will be rocking a precious baby to sleep in my arms as I listen to the rain fall outside the window of MY home. I will reminisce back to the day in the dorm. You get the point. It is the oldest story in the book. One day, you are seventeen and you're planning for someday and all that it will hold. And then quietly, without you're ever really noticing that anything has changed, someday becomes today. And then that someday is yesterday. And this is your life. However many years in the making, it is the life that you have created for yourself.