About Me

I've been wanting to update my profile for a while now... but the words didn't seem to flow, until this afternoon. Here it is- punched out in 5 mins flat.

Now that I've removed that writer's block, it's time for me to start on that Political Science paper.

"The painful thing about enlightenment is that you cannot go back to the warm safe place that ignorance keeps so impenetrable for us"- Goldie Hawn (A Lotus Grows in the Mud)

I am on a journey. Most of the time I feel completely overwhelmed by this chapter in my life (the 20's- where one experiences many of life's greatest shifts) and all the choices that lay before me. I desire to become a woman of humility and intense compassion, a steward of nature and someone who lives life intentionally- who takes great joy in simplicity. I wish to be remembered for my love- to gather wisdom from the most unlikely of sources and to be foolish enough to believe I can make a difference. I want to walk in the footsteps of a man who did so with intensity, breaking all molds; loving and living with "the least of these."

Piper

I am now an Auntie of seven (it'll be eight in the fall).



Piper Elizabeth Wright was born on June 20th.



She took her sweet time coming- her original due date was June 8th, but that may have led to one of the cutest newborns I have ever laid eyes on (no red wrinkled, cakey skin).



Steph and Tre are head-over-heels with their first baby together!

The Ultimate Do-It-Yourself Girl

Long before we became tragically short on money (due to mine and Scotty's tuition), I always loved the challenge of DIY projects. I believe it is in my blood, passed down from my dear mom.

Anyone who has ever gone shopping with me has likely heard me say... "I could do THAT myself." It started with me making my own toys as a child and progressed to clothing and room decor in my teens (if you knew me when I was 14 you may recall the lampshade fashioned entirely out of photo negatives... which I saw a few weeks ago in a home decor magazine!), and has now progressed into refitting old cast-away clothes into something modern (usually inspired by current fashion magazines), bath and body products made from scratch (I'm STILL trying to figure out how LUSH makes that jelly soap), and more home decorating.

It has become a bit of a sickness... a strange sense of pride. I often feel as though "buying it" would be admitting defeat, and the high price tag serving as the bitter cherry on top (See? I really am meant to be poor).

Three and a half weeks ago, I did this: (I had avoided posting it earlier to prove all those who would normally say "It's gonna get infected" wrong).



I pierced my own ears many times in high school and had no trouble. The belly button in grade 11 was a little trickier and took a second go because I didn't do it deep enough to allow for it to "reject" a little. Personally, I don't see the difference between doing it yourself and paying someone else to do it for you as long as you are careful about cleanliness. Piercing was/is often a cultural practice and they seem to do just fine minus the fancy piercing studios. And pain is pain and I handle mine just fine (seeing as I am made to push a live human out of my body... I figure piercing is peanuts).

Besides, "DIY Chelsea" paid $3 instead of $50.

So Lucky

The morning that heard that voice speak to me I was reflecting on a recent night out, more specifically, on a conversation over dinner with a past friend and a couple friends of a friend.

We did the obligatory "here's what I do as a job and here's where my future is headed" and there was a moment with one girl who was discussing her job, a great job, where she let down her defenses and became very vulnerable; she looked at the floor in mid sentence and unearthed what she really wished she was doing: a much less glamorous job... a job involving helping others. She buried it with a smile and changed the subject as quickly as she had let down her defenses. I am sure that everyone else in on the conversation were fooled by her efforts to shrug it off as if it didn't matter, but I was haunted by it.

She is following the life that others are impressed by- the life that others want her to live, but she's selling herself short.

No matter how hard I tried to steer the conversation back to it- our audience was not interested and kept turning to subjects of real-estate, gossip and makeup products. It was clear that it was only acceptable to keep the dinner conversation light, so I caved and talked about crazy Tom Cruise, lip gloss and how I don't think I'll ever own a house... but I'd love to own a backyard pool (how that would be possible- I do not know).


Everyone was really nice, but I really didn't fit into that crowd, and I couldn't figure out why. It wasn't that I felt like I was better than them, because I quite enjoyed the dumb Tom Cruise conversation (I admit that I frequent perezhilton.com from time to time).


What I realized this morning is that I didn't feel challenged by anyone that night. I am blessed to have friends that are an endless source of inspiration to me. They challenge me to take responsibility for my actions as a consumer, to love others as I love myself, to question rather than blindly accept, to do simple things for others, to love big, to take care of this earth, to LIVE it rather than talk it...


I have learned more from my friends than I have given them credit for. I am endlessly thankful to them for guiding me towards a life that goes somewhat against the status quo... for never letting me sell myself short.

Released.

This morning I heard a voice.

It was undeniable and it left me in tears- tears of relief- tears of breakthrough- tears of realization.

I feel as though blindspots have been removed from the windows to my soul.

A burden has been lifted, and I have taken my first deep breath in a LONG time.

"Let not your life be defined by what you achieve... let your life be defined by how you love."

It came upon me with such power- it spoke directly to my soul. It gave me the answer that I have been searching for.

I am a firm believer in the quarter life crisis. It is a chapter of life characterized by towering pressure where we are supposed to experience change from teen to adult, job to career, single to married, renter to homeowner, child to parent, influenced to respected.... and we're supposed to achieve all of this in 10 years.

I have felt guilty... like a failure for not being what I had set out to be 7 years after graduating high school.

In high school, I was ALL about the achievement: My course load in grade 12 consisted of all the sciences (math, biology, chemistry, calculus and physics) and I put pressure on myself to be at the top of all my classes. I graduated with a 93.5% average. I was the class valedictorian. I was headed to UBC pre-med... and I was set on being defined by my achievements. I wanted to be great....

Every time I run into an old friend there is the inevitable exchange of the resume- the listing of all that I have done and achieved since high school, and it is in these moments that the pressure is nearly unbearable as I am forced to examine where I am compared to where I believe I am SUPPOSED to be.

My last few exchanges have been different. I have noticed the disappointment in the faces others as they give me the run-down of their lives over the past few years- their eyes don't match their words. Even though some had achieved so much- degrees, travel, buying the first home etc.- they appear to feel the same insurmountable pressure I feel.

I have been left to wonder whether it is achievement, and lack of, that has left me feeling guilty and dissatisfied or if it is that I have spent so much time deceiving myself... convincing myself that I really WANT all of this; and further, that all of this will bring meaning and fulfillment to my life.



At the end of my life will I measure it by what I have done?

Will I beat myself up over what I have failed to achieve?

Or will I measure my life by how I have loved?

It doesn't matter what you do with your life... what matters is that you loved.

Love well. Love Big. Love impossible.

Thursdays

On Thursday mornings I pack up my books and head up Burnaby mountain with Scotty to take advantage of their scenic study spots, coffee shops and the "atmosphere of learning."

Thursdays are a day of contrast. We spend the morning at the Burnaby mountain campus and the afternoon ate the harbour center campus in downtown Vancouver. Last Thursday I took advantage of some of the trails on the outskirts of the campus while Scotty finished up his last class on the mountain. It was pouring rain, the trails were slick and muddy (I fell onto my hands twice while scurrying up the hills), the air was thick and the peppery scent of the forest was invigorating. As I rounded cardiac hill the rain turned to downpour and the clouds enveloped me as I climbed.

Surrounded by moss, towering trees and lush ferns my spirit soared. I turned off my ipod and was serenaded by the sound of my breath, the pouring rain and the singing birds. As I weaved along the path, leaping over the puddles, I stretched out my hands to touch the moss covered stumps as I passed. An hour later I was in the car heading for the heart of Vancouver. Trees turned into houses, houses turned into buildings, and soon the buildings nearly blocked out the sky.

As we headed down Hastings, I stared out my window as we drove through the Eastside. Every week I stare out my window in silence and see something new... something shattering my stereotypes. As a wave of hopelessness overtakes me, we cross into gastown and I stare at shiny shops- I am hit with consumerism and excess... it is impossible to process the polar opposites, and I am left feeling numb.

Usually I settle into the library and work on my online courses, but last week I grabbed a coffee and headed for Robson. As I walked around in Urban Outfitters I found myself stretching out my hands to feel the fabric of the dresses and shirts, just as I had done with the mossy stumps on my trail run little over an hour ago. I was serenaded by some indie band playing on the sound system and was confronted by a sea of bright colours... I felt empty. I was acutely aware of being completely detached from my spirit... I couldn't feel it.

As I left the store with a couple gifts for friends (I'm STILL not buying new clothes... I'm sticking it out until at least next Valentine's day as I had committed), I felt I had begun to peel back some truth: there is something truly soul-quenching to be found in nature- it's where I find God- its where I can feel my spirit. It is where I am reminded that I am a spiritual being, and all the man-made material stuff just muddies that.

It distances you by keeping you distracted.

All Kids Are Cute But...

Sophie's the cutest!

You have to read about Sophie and her belly button... I'm in stitches!

Read my sister's (corinna) blog post here.

One of the Perks of The Job

Today at work one of the girls used some very clever sign language to show me how she feels about me.

1. She pointed at her eye

2. She fingered me.

3. She made her hands into a heart.

4. She pointed at me.

...how sweet.

(For those who don't get it: "I F---ING LOVE YOU")

My Dreamboat.

Monday night we did a little photoshoot.

Scotty's trying to get some more extra work while in school, but the part he's gunning for requires some topless photos.

Here's one of my best shots: