“And love dares you to care for

The people on the edge of the night

And love dares you to change our way of

Caring about ourselves

This is our last dance”

-David Bowie & Queen

“… the simple days, in fact, add up to a very rich life.”

-A very little snippet that I like from Baron Baptiste

A few work friends organized a weekly trivia night this past Fall. I didn’t go every week, but when I did I was surprised at how much I liked it. It felt nice to have a consistent thing to show up at and just be at with familiar people. One week one of the trivia questions was, “What year did Saddam Husein invade Iraq?” I swore it was 1991- the year my family moved to Georgia, but in fact it happened the year before that in 1990.

Many of us at the table were between the ages of 8 and 12 in 1990 and the question sparked a conversation about what our little minds remembered about both the war and life at that time. While I was experiencing my first year of life as a 3rd grader in the deep South, one of my favorite co-workers was growing up as a Buddhist in Sri Lanka. She vividly remembers her Catholic cousins being over for a visit at the time the war was starting. They were playing in her room and one of the cousins suggested they should pray for all the people being affected by the war. The Buddhist kids didn’t really know how to pray so they suggested meditating. And so, the group of Catholic and Buddhist cousins sat on the bed and prayed and meditated for the people in the war in Iraq.

That visual of those cousins sitting on the bed eyes closed together thinking and praying and caring about people they didn’t know in a war far away is just about one of the most beautiful things I can picture.

I’ve recently returned from a quest to Florida. To visit a boy. We bought the tickets 5 hours before the flight. It was a horrible red eye flight situation. 2 layovers on the way. 3 on the way back. All for 36 hours together. In honest hopes that we could maybe have a relationship. The first 4 hours were incredible. And then there was the wonderful realization that we love each other and can’t be together or shouldn’t or something. We cried. I threw up and couldn’t eat. It was 90 some degrees and 90%  swampy humidity and raining the entire time I was there. Ugh. It’s not true that love conquers all.

And while it was all those things(mostly pretty awful), it was somehow something I really needed to do. How can that be? I’m really not sure.

Awhile back I read most of a book about the pursuit of happiness in this little life. Please don’t make fun of me for reading such things. The most interesting morsel in the book was this idea that we humans need a quest, a goal, some big something that we’re motivated to pursue. For some people this is their true life passion and shapes their everything. For others its just a passion – this thing they like and do on weekends or during their vacation. Whatever it is, it motivates. It’s something to strive for and there’s a lot of happiness in that pursuit. For the life of me I cannot figure out any big anything to pursue. I wish I had that one big something that could define my existence, but I’ve tried and failed and exhausted myself in the process of trying to figure it out. I do resonate with the idea of a quest though. And, I’ve had my fair share of mini quests the past few years: I must figure out a way to visit SE Asia – check. I will learn to rock climb outside by myself – check. I will try rowing and race in a regatta – check. I must follow my heart to Florida – check, crash, burn.

So, in the wake of that most recent quest and the impending fall days, I am going to embark on another mini quest: Make all 100 recipes in THIS COOKBOOK. I have zero intentions of this quest changing my life(though, the poached scrambled eggs are a game changer). I’m just recognizing that at this moment I need something. Some sort of little quest to focus on while I work out the rest of my life and continue the ever heart breaking and annoying quest for love along with the reality of my current corporate existence(for which I am actually immensely grateful).

Re: The 12-hour, 3-layover trip back to Seattle: I cried on every flight. I was forced to check my bag at the gate in Charlotte because they’d ran out of overhead bin space. And ya know what? They lost my bag. Super Ugh.

“Soon you will find yourself in more and more situations you don’t want to run from. At work you’ll realize that you’ve spent the entire day in your body, really in it, not imagining what you look like to the people who surround you but just being who you are. You are a tool being put to its proper use. That changes a lot of things.”

– From the second to last page of Not That Kind of Girl by Lena Dunham

Sweet Strawberries :: I was on my way to my friend’s house. We were meeting up to go strawberry picking. I had been looking forward to it all week. Just two minutes away from her house a car, pulls out in front of me. I knew he hadn’t seen me coming so I sped up – hoping he wouldn’t hit me, but alas he clipped my bumper. Everyone was fine. No injuries. Minimal damage. We both had insurance.  Yet, he insisted we stay until the police showed up. My dream of picking strawberries that evening evaporated. Instead I sat on the curb for 3 hours waiting for the police. My sweet friend met me on the curb. She and her husband and 2 kids kept me company while I waited and I felt cared for.

A few weeks later at the farmers market, my strawberry dreams were redeemed. I bought half a flat (6 pints) of strawberries for $5.00. As I was paying the woman taking my money offers me another half a flat for no extra charge. Ummm, yes please. I spent that afternoon taking care of my 12 pints of strawberries. I ate them, froze them, made popsicles and even strawberry shortcake.

Sweet Slippers :: I’ve known her since we were eight year olds. A few months ago she had a precious little girl and a few weekends ago her husband planned a whole day for her to get out of the house alone – for the first time since the little one was born. She spent some of that day with me. She brought me slippers from her husband. A pair she has herself and that I had worn at her house months ago and commented on how fun they were while I had them on my feet. Her husband had overheard my comment and bought another pair of slippers just for me. And once I again, I felt so cared for.

Sweet Peas :: Recently, on a perfect, long, warm June evening I took a walk. I picked some flowers and carried them with me. What is it about walking while holding flowers that makes me so happy? Once home, I plopped my flowers into two green bottles. And I was filled with contentment.