Wednesday, November 15, 2023

More!














Does anybody else ever feel like they have so much stuff?

Lately I've been grappling with the sheer fact of all my things, and how much it seems I have acquired over the years. My mom shared with me this creator on YouTube who makes videos on minimalism and her 10-item wardrobe, and I've enjoyed watching some of her content. I don't think I could be a minimalist to that extreme extent, but I've enjoyed some of the principles behind her videos. 

Here's what I've discovered: The more I find myself in pursuit of stuff (namely, clothes, an obsession which could go on indefinitely as fashion is so ever-evolving), I find myself less able to hear the still, small voice of Jesus in my everyday life. It's convicting and dismaying, even as I find myself still on the hunt for more things to consume my time, money and energy.

As I've been sorting through my closet today, these thoughts came to mind. The things I think will fulfill me (a flowy tiered maxi skirt; a pair of impossibly cool boots) never truly do. And then they end up discarded or forgotten in some corner of my closet the moment the next thing comes along.

It seems our whole society has been peddled the idea of having more, more, more at the click of a button in a way that those from generations past never had to deal with. Much has been written on fast fashion and the incessant trend cycling only sped up by social media. As someone who's trying to distance myself more from the digital noise for my own mental health, I return to this space for a tiny reprieve. These days, I'm longing to unplug from the idea that I'm always one new product away from my "perfect wardrobe" and into my own creativity, and my relationship with Christ. I'm trying to focus more on what matters, rather than get caught in the never-ending pursuit of what will fade. 🌼

Be kind to yourself,

Thursday, November 2, 2023

Autumnal Anecdotes


November is here in full force, reminding me of last fall and all that came with it. Last fall: Michigan, and family, and then tough times. Life lately has been a strange mix of painful moments, as the memories come; and beautiful ones, as the cool weather encourages more sweaters, more fall candles, more long walks in the park. In the same breath I wish I could turn back the clock: If only I could jump back to fall of two years ago, 2021; or that of fall 2019, before everything happened, the world shut down and life changed forever.

I know what he would say to me; I know that he would be proud. And I know that, just as the leaves fall from the trees, seasons come and seasons go, and there is a time for everything under the sun. Our lesson in church this past weekend was from Ecclesiastes 1:2 ("Everything is meaningless"), but how, of course, nothing is meaningless with Jesus. Faith can be challenging in grief; at times it has felt like even with Jesus, everything is still meaningless, but I know that's not true. 

It's cathartic to come to this space and write again. It's nice to have a little cozy corner of the internet that seldom few know about, and just tuck in and type some thoughts out. I think writing as a whole is something that I am longing to return to. 

For many writers, NaNoWriMo is a time to write a novel throughout the month, and although I won't be participating in that challenge, the call to come back to writing is deeply felt. Life sometimes feels more and more distracting the older I get - and with so many things constantly calling for my attention, sometimes it feels as if I've put off that childlike, creative side of myself that just wants to pull on a cozy sweater and write.

I always find that fall pulls out the best side of me, and in little, quiet moments by myself lately, I have felt an inkling of my old, creative self returning. She's quiet, but she's there. I know he would say, "Write. Run. Take care of yourself," but in his own voice, which I miss. And so I am trying to get back to myself, one moment at a time.