Simple Pleasures

Hello, there. Indeed it has been far too long since I have written a blog. I get bombarded with all the things I want to write about, all the issues I want to talk about, all the listed items I need to go over, all the many things that I want to tell you about. This list in my head goes on and on and on, whether that is with fair trade, or the origin of coffee, or how we can fight the sex trade, or what God is doing in my life, or the major issues that our country is currently battling and debating over. I mean this list seriously is never ending, of pleasures and pains and justice and growth. I get bombarded with my life, with that 'to-do list' that never gets done. Since we need to go over all these many a things, I decided to start simple. 

    The simple pleasures in life. Because with all this mumbo jumbo we constantly get mixed up in we need those simple pleasures. In order to stay sane in the chaotic calamity of our lives we need those pleasures that give us a true happiness and a hope that everything will be okay. We need that simplicity when we are trying to fight for something and everyone in the world is telling us not too, but every fiber of our own being is telling us YES. We need those random, peace bringing joys to keep us going, to keep reminding us of hope and beauty. 

"A bird among the rain wet lilac sings - 

But we, how shall we turn to little things

And listen to the birds and winds and streams

Made holy by their dreams

Nor feel the heart-break in

The heart of things"

   -Wilford, Wilson

There is a magical tune, that when strummed is the pulse of the beating of our hearts. That when played helps lead our voices in the song we are to sing. There is a light chorus being played above our heads that guides us in our days, there is a beauty in our days that allows us to live in the present, a light that shines through our eyes that allows not only others to see it but allows us to see the details in the grain of our lives. We often go without this. So easy we get so tangled, so lost, so confused, so overwhelmed. 

There is too much beauty, too much truth that lies in the harmony of our days. How could we possibly conquer the big issues, defeat the giants, or overcome the adversity and struggles that face us? How could we live in the midst of the chaos if our eyes aren't focused on the serenity behind it. I love seeing the simplistic things in life, because those tend to be the most beautiful, those tend to be the sanity to my chaos. The best days are when my spirit is aligned with nature, aligned with simple truth and beauty that is so alive that is carries the power and strength to overcome and change the world.

    

can·di·da [kan-di-duh]

So it's official, well not actually official but by my own diagnosis, my body is infested with a horrible case of candida. This yeast has overgrown my intestinal tract giving me annoying and painful symptoms one on top of the other. This yeast is beginning to spread throughout me, it will grow and get worse if I don't stop it, so the only way to stop it? Lots of pills; probiotics, detoxes, candex, cleanses, enzymes, blah, blah, blah. And a very strict diet; no carbs, no grains, no sugar, no fruit, no caffeine, blah. Which leaves me to eating merely vegetables and (some) meat, which is much harder then it even sounds. You just have to get creative and have a positive attitude... today at starbucks: iced, decaf americano, no milk, sugar-free vanilla! Ha, take that candida!        With this ridiculous sickness that has had me rolled up in the fetal position in pain and at other times had me so lethargic you'd think they stuck me with a pain killer and marijuana syringe.  But this internal growing fungus is more common than you think, everyone has it, just to different degrees, unfortunately I believe I have some allergies to assist in all this treachery. But this fungus inside my intestines has got me to thinking about other "candida." 

Let's have a look shall we ...

"I hope there are some who will brave ridicule for the sake of common justice to half 

the people in the world." Barbara Leigh Smith Bodichon (1827–1891), British feminist. As quoted in Barbara Bodichon, Introduction, by Candida Lacey (1987).

"Do you think that the things people make fools of themselves about are any less real and true than the things they behave sensibly about?"

 George Bernard Shaw (1856–1950), Anglo-Irish playwright, critic. (First produced 1897). Marchbanks, in Candida, act 1, The Bodley Head Bernard Shaw: Collected Plays with their Prefaces, vol. 1, ed. Dan H. Laurence (1970).

"That is what all poets do: they talk to themselves out loud; and the world overhears them. But it's horribly lonely not to hear someone else talk sometimes." George Bernard Shaw (1856–1950), Anglo-Irish playwright, critic. Marchbanks, in Candida, act 2.

"We have no more right to consume happiness without producing it than to consume wealth without producing it." George Bernard Shaw (1856–1950), Anglo-Irish playwright, criti

c. Morell, in Candida, act 1.

   

     These quotes are amazing, but why was the play called Candida? or who would name their daughter Candida? I mean come on, there is a candida blog, a candida diet, a candida play wright, candida cleanses, a candida song (by Tony Orlando), a candida center, candida albicans, thrush, overgrowth and candida yeast. And a big one: candida symptoms, symptoms that have entirely changed my life style. But in the bigger spectrum of life, lets look at a comparison or analogy, if you will, that candida provides for us. I believe it may be more important than the physical turmoil I am now facing.

     Candida, a yeast that plants itself, that we all have, if not taken care of, overgrows and takes over. When you die there is a yeast that decomposes the inside of your body, this is the same yeast that currently resides in my stomach. So bigger picture? How many of us, how many times, do we, do I allow this yeast to overgrow and take control? 

 I am no longer talking about yeast, I am now talking about sin. We all have a seed of sin planted within the hollow bones of our skeleton, now how many of us lose focus and allow that sin to begin to grow with in our very structure and take over? We can so easily lose focus and stop disciplining ourselves. Stop watching what we feed our mouths. If you constantly feed yourself carbs, you will get a horrible case of candida; if you constantly feed your self with the ways of the world, the ways of selfishness, the ways of sin, you will get a horrible sickness.

 

  A sickness not of the physical kind, but of the soulful kind. The genre of sickness that takes you steps, sometimes miles away from the grace of God. A sickness that makes you lose sight of the kingdom, that makes you lose sight of where you belong in the spectrum (God, others, and then you). An overgrowth of "yeast" in your gut will pull you farther from our Father, will pull you farther from the light, the hope, the love that you were born to belong to and fellowship in. 

    I'm not eating carbs or sugar right now, but I can't help wonder what else I shouldn't be eating? Certain music, certain relationships, certain entertainment, certain activities? What else should I be fasting from? Because when we take the sin out of our life we tend to get our eyes opened, it is so easy to sit in a brain fog, blind to our wrongness when our bellies are bloated full of the wrong filling. 

Hebrews 12, what a great passage on what discipline we should obtain, what great words on the love our God holds for us. Hebrews 12: the directions for our soul's cleanse. 

 

succumbing to the sunrise

            Tomorrow I may have to go and fly away. But not today, no not quite yet. For today, for this warm afternoon I lay sprawled on the leather couch looking out onto the sun slicked pavement of county road 100. Last week I moved all of my belongings, my clothes and books, even my tree into a new home. I left Sonja and Lindsey at Norman-ville, which was my home for over a year’s time. And I moved all those boxes of mine into the back room of the Aldridge’s home.

            The Aldridges. A family that I have been close to ever since I moved to Joplin. A family that has taught me about community and God and being open and honest. A family that has accepted me and loved me through all of my defeats and disasters. A family I don’t know what I would do without. But I am not alone, I’m not alone in these feelings that my heart contains for this family because I know more than a handful of kids, of college students, of yearning girls and lonely guys that come here for a haven. So many people, people ranging from baby hood to adulthood retreat to this cowboy stained place that over flows with sweet tea.

            I moved out here to the white shuttered paneled home that lies among the grass and lilies to escape the ruckus of town, I moved out here to the forested, horse filled prairies to clear my head, I moved out to the open land to the lengthy grass roots that flow silently in the wind breeze so that I could dig my roots down a little deeper here in Missouri.

            So, I woke up on my cot, in my room with the wind blowing a kiss on my face as sweat slightly slung my neck, to roll over and see through the wooden blinds a masterpiece. I’ve looked out a lot of windows from my bedside in my life, and I have to be honest this is one of the best. I’ve laid on a hard firm mattress in Italy to look out upon cobbled streets and people in a fury at the market as they shout Italian. I’ve woken up with bites and rashes from the bed bugs that ate me at that hostel in Belize to look out over backpackers holding hands while walking over white sand beaches and crystal clear water. I’ve woken up on a wooden bunk bed to look out my shack’s window in South Africa to see the land roll on into the sunrise as the wildebeest roam in herds and the zebra follow close behind. And I will never forget walking up in a dorm room to see the cafeteria right out front and students meandering to class.

            This window from my bedside, it’s a little different. Beautiful in its own way, but a little more precious. I woke up to see the fields go on for just a way before they ran straight into the trees, and as a very light fog barely sat upon the thistles they reflected the red of the sunrise. The sun was barely up as it was already shouting and spurting out the colors of righteousness to welcome it’s way into our day. And the sun did not keep its rays to itself, it spread its light unto the rest of the world.

            Just as that sun spread and touched everything in its path, Aldridge’s do that. They spread light onto every person that walks through their door onto their wooden cowboy floor. Just like we are all suppose to do, as Christians that is, spreading Jesus’ light onto the world. Do I dare entire into such a cliché statement as that? Do I dare say spread the light of Jesus into the world?

            It may be cliché, it may be corny, it may be overrated… but how true it is. The sun has a way of saying good morning, easing into the day slightly, lovely, patiently. Just as we are to love on people. The sun does not shoot itself straight into the middle of the sky and it does not fall on the earth on top of you, smoldering you. No, it is patient, it is kind; gentle almost.

            But its true, we can only fully appreciate a sunrise once we have been in the darkness of the night. This last year was so hard for me, so full of stress and trials and tribulations of the sort. And out of the darkness I have been placed in the sunlight, being able to wake up to the glorious gobs of light that are being poured over me now, whether that is relationships or working in a coffee shop or preparing for an African adventure. That’s what is going on in my life today… I’m waiting in a moment of sunlight, watching the sunrise slowly rise and taking in every piece of its beauty, for there is a beauty in the silence, there is a beauty in the peaceful heart, there is a beauty when the Lord draws near in this soul of mine. Where do you lay your head today? When you awake I hope that it is a magnificent sight for eyes and a tug to every chord in your heart. 

Dance your heart out

 Aren't these pictures absolutely gorgeous? Stunning, breathe taking... the essence of beauty being captured in an environment that is completely outside of it's own true element. This quote had caught my eye in the past and it came back to my thoughts when looking over these pictures: "To dance is to be out of yourself. Larger, more beautiful, more powerful. This is power, it is glory on earth and it is yours for the taking." ~Agnes De Mille

     i believe any type of art form is you being outside of yourself. You expressing your soul

 your being to the world.

When you watch a dance you feel empowered, you feel like you know beauty and can finally possibly capture the fibers of harmony. [just imagine how empowered the actual dancer feels] becoming one with music, one with lyrics and chords 

and noises that when all brought together make a sweet melody. It is a moment, a collision of two art forms slamming into our world. Slapping our world in the face, saying do not be ugly, do not be harsh. Do not let the wares and tares that have been burned upon you to leave their scare. For in the midst of this chaos we call life, in the midst of this ever growing evil we see cratering under our feet and collapsing over our heads, we still can bring in beauty and love and a melody that is willing to fight with power on the stands of truth and grace. 

     You, my dear reader, you as an individual are truly grace on earth. But there is a power lying within your bones. And it is your choice to come outside of yourself and in some way or form show your soul to the world. My heart yearns for the world to see itself how I see it. Many a times I have wondered how my rib cage is so strong, strong enough to hold my heart inside my chest on those days when I feel like it is going to burst out and completely fly out of me so that it may have a standing chance to show the world what love is, what beauty is. So, go out there, get out there; be more, get out of yourself. Be larger, be more beautiful, more powerful, Show a glorified light onto the soil of our earth. 

[The Ballerina Project is auctioning a selection of fine limited edition prints to help raise money for the continue progress of the project. Here is an opportunity to own your own piece of the Ballerina Project. Thank you for your support.]

For more information on these prints or to place a bid please go to the link below:

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=270606656841

 

coming home to pass it

   Well we are on that gray hard pavement once again, adding up the mileage on the jeep, seeing more countryside, dancing around vehicles and trying to ignore the garmin's annoying voice. We are headed home, headed back to where this journey all started, heading back to Joplin. In my last post I said that this blog would be eventful, be vivid, alive, because we are just leaving Tennessee and my lovelies, that is exactly what you will get because Tennessee did not fail us in anyway, if anything it exceeded our expectations. 

So to start off with where I departed from you last time. We dropped off that beautiful Tennessee interstate lined with trees and fog and brightened by the moonlight and we fell into downtown Nashville. The hotel our friend booked for us could not been more amazing. Filled with amazing lighting, amazing service, amazing beds, amazing decor, amazing is probably the only word I could use to describe it. We were blessed beyond our imagination when we stood in our 5 star hotel room looking out our window over Nashville's skyscrapers and night life. Because of this instance it made past instances stand out very strongly. Instances of people helping us out. People have hearts of gold within these burning walls of our crumbling corrupted world. The man that booked our room, didn't even know us, our friend called him and he pulled every string he had to help us out. This work for our well-being was a constant throughout our trip. 

       While staying in the hotel we did the tourist thing around Nashville. And folks, this time we did succeed at the touristic ways! And that is because there were no lines, and no standing and staring and no need of our patience, or even our money. The tourist thing in Nashville is essentially to party down! And that is exactly what we did. Visiting the museum of country music definitely pulled all of our heart strings and made us feel like we belonged and remembered that longing for incredible, original music. And at night we walked the streets. As we were headed to a dance floor one night we ran into a girl and her guitar along with her family, that caught Candice's attention. So we stopped and listened and chatted. By the end of the night we were standing in a circle praying with them, for them, encouraging them on their journey of the ministry God has placed in their hearts. After that we stopped in a bar for some good oldies where we all danced with men, not one being under the age of 60. Hitting more and more stops and bouncing around like we do, that was another morning we watched the sunrise. 

      But we didn't have the entire next day to sleep in. We traveled east to a winery to watch Medicine Hat play some musical notes. It was a wonderful afternoon sitting on the grassy open lawn with the sun bouncing off our umbrella as the guitars and rough voices were a blissful match to the vines flowing miles away from the house. After that we had more amazing music, at the Grand 'ol opry and at a random hotel lobby. Realizing that there can be a stage and thousands of people for wonderful music, or a stool chair and a crowd of ten. Musicians are alive and well and spreading their talent for our ears. 

     Thanks to dear friends, once again, we had a home to stay in Saturday and Sunday night. And had our Sunday filled with laughter and joy as we floated on a boat across the green Tennessee water being chased by tree-filled hills. It was a happy Sunday on the lake, filled with sun and nature and good company and refreshing water. 

     Like I said earlier, people are incredible, giving, loving. Friends, family, strangers have made our trip what it was. From Candice's aunt and uncle giving up their own bed for us to sleep in, to Kaitlyn taking away time from homework to be our tour guide, to Dave giving us a floor to sleep on, to his roommates spending the morning helping us figure out DC, to Kathleen offering her home to us, to Lee giving us a room in a perfect hotel, to Jeff and Doug lending us beds and entertainment. Time after time on this trip we have seen the beautiful hearts of people, the way people have gone out of their way to give us directions or to load our car. 

Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.  ~Mark Twain

Have you had a kindness shown?
Pass it on;
'Twas not given for thee alone,
Pass it on;
Let it travel down the years,
Let it wipe another's tears,
'Til in Heaven the deed appears -
Pass it on.
~Henry Burton

   So that is what we have in the fore fronts of our minds. To love on people, to be hospitable, to show kindness and generosity in a way that the world has not experienced. We cannot ignore or deny the love that we experienced between New York to Tennessee, we cannot hide from the concern that was covering us. Because if it had not been for people and their gold hearts, we would be broke and soar from sleeping on the ground. We would have been tired and cranky and biting at one another. But I cannot be that, I cannot be ungrateful or unthankful and all that love and generosity I experienced throughout my trip cannot be kept to myself. 

   Well readers, our trip is done. We have covered the miles between Joplin to New York and back again. We have found frustrations and annoyances but not without finding hope and comfort. Road trips are an experience, you learn about yourself about your travel companions, you learn about the roads you travel on and the new communities you enter into. The wisdom we should have read before venturing is this: When preparing to travel, lay out all your clothes and all your money.  Then take half the clothes and twice the money.  ~Susan Heller. But we survived in our faults and grew in our finds. So the final quote to cap off this grand adventure:

I think that travel comes from some deep urge to see the world,

 like the urge that brings up a worm in an Irish bog 

to see the moon when it is full.  ~Lord Dunsany

    We had an urge and we grabbed it, we had an itch and we scratched it. Free falling into our lives as we are at the biggest cornerstone we jumped head first into a challenge that we will never realized how much we learned in it. But we being the worms of the dirt of the earth, for we truly are the scum of the earth and of sinners we are the worst; we rose above the mud and we saw a glimpse of the full moon's light. Not only the grand landscapes and incredible man-made structures, but we also saw man kind in the purest and rawest form. So, I challenge thee, since I have been challenged these past 15 days. Get your head out of the mud and gaze upon the beauty of the glowing moon. 

Nearing Nashville ...

    Tennessee sets the atmosphere pretty well. With a hovering fog that follows the road side closely as if guiding us along our Nashville bound route. That is right my lovelies, we are headed to Nashville. The interstate is long and black as it rolls slowly between our tree-lined, moon lit course. Now to catch you up to speed on how we got my jeep's tires rolling this western direction. 

     We safely arrived in D.C. late the other night to arrive at my dear friend Dave's apartment. As we crashed on his floor we were too exhausted to make plans for the up-coming day of American exploration. And I have decided to write a little poem for you so you may better comprehend the adventure we had inside the District of Columbia...

         Awoke with a droggy and drowsy way in our step

         Stopping at the DuPont circle, in search of some coffee and pep

         It failed us as we sluggishly and sloggishly drug ourselves down town

         You would think the White House would change our frown

         But not-knowing what we were searching for in miles

         And not knowing how to search DC style

        We got weaker and weaker with the tourist dance

        And said "screw that prance"

        So we scattered around the capitol and did as we pleased

        When a smile then breezed and brought in some ease

        So we traveled to the Arlington graves

        Staring and stalking at the beauty of the slaves of our brave

        After chatting with old Abe we continued on our way

        That was our DC day

        Confusing bus rides, pestering parking places, misplaced maps and continual collapse

        Plus three hidden notes from a love of mine, which made for the perfect treasure hunt

        So a little more blunt... we were

        A little more patriotic at the end of the day

       A little more wiped of the tourist way

       A little smile for even though is was waring and taring and tiring

       It was indeed admiring, aspiring, inspiring and most of all... perspiring 

   After that fun little dance with US politics and history we skipped south to the land of lovers. In Virginia we rested. We slept on the floor of Kathleen (a highschool bestie) and her husband's home. We crashed hard and spent today doing things that would rest us up for the last leg of our trip (which indeed calls for one to be rested up). So today in the tree-filled land of hills and lovers I ran and went to a farmer's market and got lost and had chai at a sweet little celtic coffee shop, while Lacey joined in on some and Candice slept and stayed sprawled on the cool carpet. 

   So, now back to the beginning of this boring blog (boring due to the fact that it is 2:00am and the last couple days have seemed longer than 24 hours). We are Tennessee bound. Let me just put it to you this way, inside the black letters of the upcoming blogs you will not find bore but hopefully come to adore. Because ladies and gents we are indeed headed on a new venture chapter. Because we are nearing Nashville and I never knew how anxious I would be to be back in the south. 

     We are headed to not just sleeping on a fellow's floor, but headed to a ritzy hotel to sleep on the plush beds, because of a stranger who has a heart of gold and is willing to take care of college students on a budget. Because we are not headed to dancing but to honky-tonk boot-scootin boogies for our booties. Because we are not just headed to another city we are headed to Nashville, Tennessee. 

      

       

       

ducks driving to DC

After 1,878 miles, 9 days, 216 hours, 19 cups of coffee and a billion bathroom breaks we have covered the northern corner of New York and Long Island and started an entire new section of this venture. As we are southbound the upcoming section is titled ‘DC in a day.’ We shall see if we fit every piece of history, every tourist opportunity into our single day in Washington D.C. Exploring D.C. is indeed a must, which is why we are squeezing it into our already jam packed schedule. But with the method we take to view the sites I am almost positive we will have no problem seeing every sight. Remember how I said we only view things from a far, because we lack patience? (Or you could look at it that we are just so content in our company with one another that the Empire State building does not contain the greatness of Gaines or that Ellis Island does not hold the wisdom of our El Salvadorian and we all know full well if I dared to stand next to the statue of Liberty they would probably take it down and build a copper me.) [If you do not know me and are reading this, please read that last line with every ounce of sarcasm you hold, thank you]

            Talking about our impatience and desire for instant gratification came into play once again today. This morning we took the winds and the wounds around every tree-grasping

curve that lingered along the Atlantic Ocean’s coastline with the early morning sun. As a special surprise I took Lacey and Candice to Montauk’s point, which held an enormous and glorious lighthouse. Well the lighthouse museum didn’t open until 10:30am and it was 9:30am, the lock was off the gate so I figured I would help them out by opening up that gate, while helping Lace and Candice by giving them a tour without payment and crowds. So we gandered and we gawked for a short moment at the over looking views and than we began our accent to the lighthouse’s front door. As we climbed up the steep road that over looked forests to our right and left and was followed by terraces to the ocean’s mouth we had smiles plastered across our faces. That was until we got stopped dead in our tracks when a woman’s voice as loud as an oncoming train started to scold us for being inside the lighthouse's gate. She told us we needed to turn around immediately and come back at opening time. Some people say there is a tiny little woman living at the top of that light house watching out for trespassing tourists, I for one believe the light house is haunted and she was offended that we even entered her grounds before the other humans, so she ran us off, which did indeed work. Worked so well we didn’t even come back at 10:30 with the other paying tourists.

            Instead of touring our haunted lighthouse lady we drove down the rode to the beach, where we surfed. Or more an attempt to surf, the surf was better the night before (which we did) but this sunny afternoon had the waves in a fret and all you could see from the shore line was white, it was wave after wave coming in furiously slapping the rocks it landed on. But we did get Lacey out on a surfboard for the first time, and we also got her stuck in a rip current after 10 minutes of her and I swimming no where the non-Baywatch 16 year old lifeguard came to our rescue as we paddled back to Candice standing at the shore with her camera that never leaves her hands.

            But the night before, please if you will read for a second more, let me tell you about the late surfing on Monday night that took us all day to get too. We planned on being on the beach on our boards by noon, well with shops and rain and no fore-knowledge of where we were headed we didn’t get to the sand dunes until 5:30pm. It was a dark overcast that put a dim doomed mood all over Montauk’s point beach. But that didn’t stop Candice and I from grabbing our 9” planks and rushing into the pounding waves that bashed into the sandy shoreline. I only got rocked a couple times and only caught a few waves. But I was home. I the girl from the farmer farther and the most land-locked state was home, and I’m positive my California Candice felt the same way. I sat up on my board, legs danggeling off the sides and slowly let the waves roll under me. The water was a dark green that turned black into the distance and when I looked to the west I saw surfers as if they were sitting ducks, just waiting for the next 

wave to come in. I saw the gloomy mourning waters mimicking the clouds darkness. But to the north of our wavy waters the cliffs were topped with dark ferns and grasses as they crevassed sharply into the beach line. The fogged hovered like a mother over her child on top of those Irish-imitating cliffs. And I sat there on my board, shocked by the warmth of the hard water and I felt at peace, whether I would catch a wave or not, whether there was oceanic danger lurking below me or not, I was at peace sitting like a wading duck upon my board.

            So we left the surfing behind this afternoon, we left New York in the dust. Well not necessarily the dust, considering we had to stop in the middle of 8-lane traffic because the New Jersey turnpike held an $11 toll and we only had one dollar. The end of this story is a lovely conversation with a police officer; the reasoning of this story is because I spent $10 on a pair of high-heels and a leather watch at a beach side thrift store. So leaving all that behind, except our ticket and future tollbooths, we are finally on our way back south.

            We head downward to DC, to Virginia, to the south with the intentions of hiking and camping in the sunshine and musing music and good eating in the moonlight. In other words we are now traveling with a new motive in mind: Play dirty in the day and party fancy in the night.