My way or the highway…

This week I’ve been a recipient of a lot of unsolicited advice. There’s something about being one of the youngest people at work that makes people think that you’re constantly in need of advice—personal, professional, romantic, religious—people are full of thoughts about what I should be doing. If I’m being honest, I love and appreciate this advice 99% of the time. I am young and new to my job, so I want and need the perspective of those older and wiser than me. That’s how I’ve learned nearly everything that I know, and reminding myself of this prevents me from being big headed or inflating my ego.

But there are moments when the advice extends beyond professional and digs into what I consider forbidden territory. Luckily, this type of advice doesn’t necessarily bother me. I like to understand other people’s perspective, and I’m always willing to evaluate something from a different angle. But one of my biggest annoyances is when people believe that it’s their way or no way.

There are so many ways for us to live happy, successful lives. And I truly believe that what is right for someone might be entirely wrong for someone else. Where we live, how we do our jobs, when we get married, when we have babies, what we value, what we believe…these choices are all so personal. And our perspectives change. I’ve always been an incredibly job driven person. Work was number one all the time. And most of the time, it still is. But being so far away from my family, friends and M has made me realize that it’s not the most important thing. And while moving away from DC might not be the best move professionally, the joy I find from the relationships I lack here might far make up the difference. For some of us, constantly stretching ourselves to the edges of our existence isn’t the way for us to find the most happiness. Some of us aren’t such explorers and find the biggest gladness in developing relationships or meditating or cooking. For some of us a quiet and simple life is more than enough. We don’t need to be constantly going to new places or experiencing new things. The experiences that are familiar and comforting are the ones that fulfill our hearts the most.

But most importantly, no matter what we decide makes us the happiest, why do we judge? Why do people think that “their way” is the best way, the only way, to live a fulfilling life? Joy comes in lots of shapes and sizes, some more obvious than others. I think the best we can do is recognize that everyone’s happiness comes from different places, and it’s our job to celebrate the goodness in other people’s lives whether we feel it in the same way or not. I think it’s also important to realize that we give happiness to different people in different ways to, and it’s our responsibility as good friends to know how to lift each other up. Sometimes we need a shoulder to cry on or a good listener. Sometimes we need strong drinks and reality TV. Sometimes we need time alone and a good book. And the best friends we have will know what we need and bring it to us, regardless of whether it’s what she’d choose for herself.

So I’m trying to humble myself in the presence of advice. I’m trying to learn from what other people around me need and what they think I need. But most importantly, I’m going to try not to pass quick judgment on those around me.

To taking different highways,

Lia

Happy Sunday!

Good afternoon, blog friends! It’s been a little while, hasn’t it? Not sure what I’ve been up to except for a lot of work and probably too much TV. However, I’ve been alone in DC for the weekend, so I’ve had a little time to recharge and get caught up on things like blogging.

So this weekend has been relaxing, but full of fun activities. On Friday, I was down in Newport News for work. It was 82 and beautifully sunny—a perfect day for a road trip. I made it back home a little before 5pm, so I took advantage of the beautiful weather to host myself a little solo happy hour on my deck. Bud Light Lime, cashews and an Elin Hilderbrandt novel, just perfect. Saturday I volunteered with some coworkers at the Air & Space Museum all day then came home to get ready for my sweet friend K’s 25^th birthday party! We had a fun group of people and lots of alcohol, and I even made it out until 1:30pm! (I think that must be a record for me post-college.) This morning was a little sleepy, but I made it to a new church this morning (more details in a second) and got a massage/manicure before coming home. I’m going to dinner tonight with some girlfriends, and then I’ll be planting it on the couch for my Sunday night TV lineup. And hopefully cleaning my apartment, it’s absolutely disgusting. And getting ready for my work trip to NYC tomorrow!

Anyway, back to this church I went to this morning. So I found this church from a book tour list of one of my favorite Christian writers, Shauna Niequist. I’ve blogged about her and her books before. She makes me calm and reflective and grateful and humbled. She’s from Chicago and went to college on the west coast, so when I realized that essentially the only east coast church she visited on her last book tour was only 15 minutes from my house, I knew I had to check it out. It’s an Anglican church, and I had never been to one before. I didn’t really know what it was or what they believed or how different it was from my Methodist home church.

When I walked into the enormous sanctuary this morning, there were what felt like a thousand people singing. “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty…” It was so beautiful. I’m not used to churches with hundreds in the congregation. I’m especially not used to churches with hundreds of people with their hands raised to the heavens, singing loudly, praying powerfully. It felt like a real community of faith, and even though I realized that I don’t necessarily agree with all of the pillars of the Anglican church, prayer is prayer and God is God and love is love. So if I’m moved by such a congregation, there’s no reason I can’t enjoy it, right?

After a handful of contemporary Christian songs, one of the pastors stood to make an announcement. Unbeknownst to me, this church is in some serious trouble. Back in 2006, the church voted with an overwhelming majority to separate from the Episcopalian church and join the Anglican church. Though there are only subtle differences (to me) between the two sects, they were unreconcileable differences for this congregation. So they bravely started their own church and have grown to a huge and powerful membership over the past six years. But in January of this year, a court ruled that the beautiful, historic church and everything in it…the pews, the Bibles and choir robes, communion font…were actually rightful property of the Episcopalian church. And on top of that, the church would owe money, lots of money, several millions of dollars, to the Episcopalian church, as well. That amount of money would drain all of the church’s resources. And they won’t have a home. No place to worship, no place to gather or pray or host church dinners. They’ll be relegated to hotel conference rooms or elementary school gymnasiums, and no one knows what the future will hold. And for a congregation in the thousands, it’s a lot of people to shepherd, no matter how big the temporary space.

But the pastor was gracious, and the congregation was, too. They reminded me that no matter how dire the situation, how difficult and unpredictable; and no matter how angry we are with the courts or the church or the attorneys, there’s always the mercy of God’s will. We can’t let ourselves get so destroyed in misery and uncertainty that we don’t see the next steps He has laid out for us. There’s light after darkness, life after death. Which is really a beautiful message of hope and aspiration even though it’s rooted in such a difficult situation.

Anyway, that’s what I’m thinking about this week. Or trying to focus on, at least. There is a future just waiting to be revealed to us. For better or worse, we can stop worrying and obsessing about next year or next month or tomorrow. Just trust and love and relax.

To letting it go,

Lia

I’ve got peace like a river.

Ahh sunshine. It is absolutely incredible what a little warm weather can do for the soul. This week as has been one of absolute beauty here in our nation’s capital. Warm weather, sunny skies, cherry blossoms in full bloom. It’s fresh air and windows open and bare legs and even flip flops. And I can’t keep this little tune out of my head:

I’ve got peace like a river; I’ve got peace like a river;

I’ve got peace like a river in my soul….

It’s amazing how just 48 hours can change my outlook so much. Earlier this week, I was feeling bleak and blue. Today I’m calm and happy and relaxed. So lovely.

A few key points aiding in this transformation:

1. I was out of the office all day yesterday for a meeting in southern VA. I thought the 3.5 hour drive each way was going to drive my crazy. But the sky was this amazing shade of cloudless blue, and I was driving through the Shenandoah mountains where the trees were just starting to bud their little leaves. It was beautiful and refreshing…and I had Chick-fil-A for both breakfast and lunch.

2. After my meeting (which went incredibly well), I headed back up to northern Virginia to meet my college roommate for dinner. It had been a few weeks since I’ve seen her, and it was so nice to catch up. I spend most of my days with people who have known me just over a year, so it’s so reassuring to spend time with someone who has known me since 2005. We’ve watched each other grow and change and make good and bad decisions. And our friendship has remained steadfast throughout.

3. After work today, I met one of my new girlfriends for an afternoon walk and frozen yogurt. Nevermind that I hadn’t eaten dinner and we were doing dessert first. Good friends, sunny skies and a bowl full of fruit and yogurt are the best nourishment for my soul.

4. And tomorrow, I’m heading back to Pittsburgh for a weekend with M to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. The weather is supposed to be just as lovely, and I’m anxiously tearing through my closed to find something with just a hint of green to wear. I’m not a green person.

To a very happy St. Patrick’s Day,

Lia

A little inspiration.

I don’t think it’s any secret that this year I’ve been a little low on joyfulness. To be honest, I think I’ve been on a downward slide for quite some time, but the bountiful merriness of the holiday season lifted me out of my blues through the new year. But then there were January and February. Two cold months, bitter in more ways than one. A lot of gray. A lot of cold. Starting completely over.

I’ve been stuck in this yucky rut ever since. It’s one of those weird feelings where I’m not so upset that I feel like I need to do anything about it. But at the same time, I’m grouchy and throwing miserable pity parties for myself (like this one) that are entirely unproductive and, quite frankly, annoying.

I know a lot of this is because I miss M, and I’m frustrated at work a lot. It’s also partially due to the immense amount of TV I’ve been watching that cuts into my beauty sleep. It’s also a simple lack of motivation to make a change in my life. I’m a firm believer in the phrase “we are as happy as we make up our minds to be.” For these past two months, I’ve made up my mind that slugging through the day is enough. I’ve decided that simply getting through the workday is an ample way to live my life. And I’ve been wrong.

I don’t know if my attitude is brightening because today was a balmy 77 degrees in Washington today. Or if because the sun was shining and I let myself have afternoon frozen yogurt. Or if it’s because I just got home from the gym and my brain is still swarming with endorphins that are inflating my mood. Either way, I’ll take it.

I was reading up on my mom blogs just a few minutes ago, and I stumbled upon some inspiration that instantly turned me to my blog to share this little verse with you:

Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior.

Habakkuk 3:17-18

How beautiful is that? How reassuring is that? In the deepest and most lowly moments of our lives, we can still be joyful in the Lord. If fact, we NEED to be joyful. At the lowest of the lows in our lives, our work, our relationships, ourselves, we need joy. And Jesus. It also reminds me of a portion of Psalms 30. Joy comes in the morning. No matter how haphazard and disastrous our lives seem at 11 p.m., there will be peace and calm and redemption by sunrise. We can lay our sorrows down with our bedtime prayers and rest assured that Jesus will clean our souls by morning. So reassuring.

So tonight, I’m filling my bedside worry jar with all my grievances. All the late hours worked and miles away from M and fights with friends and sorrow from my losses, I’m stuffing into my theoretical jar and leaving them there for Jesus to clear away. I’m going to bed with a clear mind and open heart and eagerly anticipating joy in the morning.

And I’m going to need it. I have a client meeting in back woods Virginia tomorrow that’s at 3.5 hour drive each way. You better believe I’ll be praying for patience. Also, I would be lying if I didn’t tell you that my comfort in Bible verses isn’t in some small way more prominent because of my recent infatuation with GCB. Don’t hate it.

To finding great inspiration,

Lia

Weekend traditions.

It’s Sunday night, and I’m reflecting on another weekend that sped by too fast. M was down visiting me, and it felt so nice to stay put this weekend. After weeks of driving and sleeping in different beds and eating out, I’m feeling much more grounded after a full week in my own apartment. Even though I did eat out a few times.

We had a little bit of a lazy weekend.  A lot of time spent sleeping in and laying on the couch. It seems like our weekends together go one of two ways: furiously jam-packed with meals, dates and activities or luxuriously quiet and slow. And I can’t decide which I like better. Our busy weekends are exhilarating but exhausting, and our quiet weekends are so relaxing but leave me feeling like maybe we should have done something more exciting. But whichever way our weekend goes, I’ve noticed that there are some things we always do together. Little things that remind me of us and make me feel grounded in our relationship. Here are a few:

1. Bacon, egg and cheese. We started eating these every Saturday morning at Brueggers in South Side when we started dating. I would occasionally try different types of bagels, but I’ve been firmly rooted in the BE&C ever since finding Brooklyn Bagel Bakery in Courthouse. Crispy, buttery and the biggest bagels you’ve ever seen. Deliciousness.

2. Friday night movies. I think the last time I went out on a Friday night must have been in college. These days I’m much more content cozying up on the couch and picking out something from OnDemand. I think the only movies I watch are with M. And I can never seem to remember what we’ve already seen.

3. Mimosas. Whether it’s fancy champagne from one of our favorite brunch restaurants with fresh squeezed OJ or ingredients I purchased from CVS in my pajamas with no make-up on, mimosas are always a part of our weekend mornings. Yummm.

4. Saturday morning walks. This is a relatively new tradition. We’ve been going on walks for awhile, but I recently decided that every weekend we’re in Pittsburgh, we’re going to find a new park to walk Saturday mornings. I’m not exactly the best at waking up in the morning, but knowing that we’re going to share moments outside in fresh air, catching up on our weeks and having the silliest conversations makes getting out of bed 100 times easier.

5. Cheez-Its. Why are nearly all of our weekend traditions about food? One of my biggest short-comings about trips to Pittsburgh is my extreme frustration when I can’t find a street parking spot after driving nearly five hours on a Friday night. M has discovered that my cranky-ness quickly subsides with a big bowl of Cheez-Its during our Friday night movie. I’m so easily distracted.

One last little thing. I’m watching the pilot episode of GCB. And I’m loving it.

To making new weekend traditions,

Lia