Doug and my thoughts on change

As usual, I come to the keyboard with a lot on my mind. I worked tonight at the coffeeshop. It was a slow night, which allowed me quite a bit of time to contemplate, and possibly create, the lives of those spending their Sunday night in the Borders cafe. There was one man I was particularly drawn to. He was tall, pushing forty, well-dressed, with hair like the men in L.L. Bean catalogues... dark, but a tinge of grey right around the temples. I've named him Doug... although I doubt that was his given name. Doug's drink of choice was a large decaf americano and he spent three hours reading a book called "GOING TO PLAN B : How You Can Cope, Regroup, and Start Your Life on a New Path." Watching Doug sip his americano and read this strange life-changing book, made me wonder about him. What was he coping with? What was Plan A? And more importantly, was he happy? Was he happy with needing a plan B? I wondered if he had left his previous path because he hated it or because it hated him. Was he ready for this change?

The bittersweet sensation of change has been present in my life more than ever this past year. I remember packing the cars in Cleveland and driving the 12 hours through the dirty, February snow to the Twin Cities. The cities I have grown to love. Without that change, I would have never experienced the joy and wisdom given to me by so many people over the age of 85, and I would have never been able to see so many perfectly painted sunsets cast their orange glow over the Minnesota horizon. The fact of the matter still lies in knowing that if I had been born here, I would have left here and gone elsewhere. The fact of the matter is that everyone has to change. It's the way we were created. We changed from babies into children, from teens into young adults. I will (hopefully) change into a wife, a mother, and a mentor. Everything we were, we are no longer. And everything we will be... we will soon be no more. I can't imagine the world with only winter, or living in eternal autumn. Much like the seasons, we constantly change... I think we have to, to keep living life. The best way I have come to view this need for change is likening life to a book. Only in the good ones do the characters end up different than they started.

Sometimes, I wonder if I missed a step somewhere. If I let go of a friend too soon or overlooked a possible love interest. I wonder if I took this job without thinking it through or found this apartment before surveying all my options. I wonder if I skipped a page in this book of life... but then I realize that life cannot be read on a flat page. It has to be lived. We have to fall in love too many times for our own good. We have to laugh at our own shortcomings. We have to pack up cars and drive through snow and move to Minnesota. Some of us, even have to spend a Sunday night or two in the Borders coffeeshop reading books about how to start over.

This whole life thing... be it a book, or a movie, or an epic poem... is meant to be lived. It is meant to be carried out in a million different settings with billions of beautifully intriguing characters, and believe it or not... it is fleeting. Soon, our credits will roll and those who knew us will mourn over the memories of how we once were all the while shaken by the fact that we will never again be. Eventually, there will be far more pages before the bookmark than those left to read and we will approach the epilogue of our lives with much anticipation. Not only the expectation of a better place, but the anticipation of a wonderful place left behind. We will approach this ending with the knowledge and hope that it will speak of a live well-lived, it will speak volumes of something beautiful.

So... It is nearing 2AM and I fear I will render myself incapable of life if I stay awake for much longer. My point of this blog entry gone tangent is that I encourage you to live. I encourage you to love, to laugh, to learn, to leave, and come home again. I wish for you an abundance of change. God has created this life for us.... for you... and it would be a shame not to take full advantage of all that entails. This book of life is ours to be read, ours to be lived... even if your living turns your temples grey and forces you to cope, regroup and start from Plan B.

Goodnight, friends. Live Well.

~Tempa

Happy Thanksgiving

Hello friends,

This is the second annual Thanksgiving edition of "A Day in the Life...". It's hard to believe I've been keeping up with this internet journal for more than a year now. I was reading the post from Thanksgiving 2004, and was a bit surprised that most of it still rings true today. Granted, only a year has gone by... but it was a big year and one full of change. However, I still don't love Turkey Day... I still look forward to the day I am able to start new family traditions with a family of my own... and I still want to make a list of the things I am thankful for on this special day.

Minnesota Sunrises
Imagination of a child
Wisdom of the elderly
Creativity
Swingsets
Harmony
Acoustic music
Yellow Roses
Praying for someone
Morning coffee
Giving gifts
Meaningful Conversation
The cold side of the pillow
Silent laugher
Candle Light
Nervous butterflies
Hearing "I love you"
Chilly mornings
Thunder Storms
Saying "I love you"
Hooded sweatshirts
Hearing my cell phone ring
Learning something new
Pay Day
Singing in the shower
Lazy weekends

That list could go on and on, but I fear that I am falling asleep at the keyboard. I, unfortunately, have to work at both of my jobs tomorrow and feel I need to get a bit of sleep before starting the day. Luckily, this weekend is shaping up to be one of the aforementioned "Lazy Weekends" and the thought of that will get me through the 14 hour day tomorrow.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday. I will write more soon. Maybe something better than this list ;)

G*night,
tempa

Mind Jumble

Hi friends,

I have quite a bit on my mind tonight and, to be honest, I'm not sure where to start. I want to talk about 'Laguna Beach' and how, although I am hooked on it, I am starting to question the show's honesty. I want to talk about the upcoming Holiday season and how I plan on surviving yet another Yuletide under the mistletoe alone. I could talk for hours about how the three to six inches of snow that we are predicted to get this evening makes me want to fall asleep in some emotional paradox of anticipation and disgust. I want to sing the praises of Tristan Prettyman and Jason Mraz... my two favorite musical artists that just so happen to be a very cute little couple in the real world. I want to talk about facebook and how, although I am 23 years old, the damn things seems to control my life! I want to talk about my song writing and my lack there of, my strange affinity for all things World War II, and the upcoming release of Carrie Underwood's debut album. But, I can't seem to find the words or the time to talk about any of these things.

Having two jobs is wearing me down pretty quickly and I'm finding I have less and less time to process my life as it happens around me. Which... on account of the fact that I am who I am... kind of bums me out. I am prone to analyzing and processing my life far more than necessary and although I realize the extent of my analytical nature does me more harm than good at times... processing my life is kind of what makes my life a good one. It allows me to put things in perspective a little better, keeps me a little more grounded...and I like that. It's kind of what makes me... me.

Lately, however, I haven't been able to do that. For two weeks now, I've been pulled between work at the nursing home and work at the bookstore. I don't want to complain about this because a) I chose to get a second job and b) tons of people have two (or more) jobs and get along just fine. BUT, the whole pulling double duty thing is still very new to me and I haven't quite figured out how to manage everything else along side it all. I have no doubt that skill will come with time... but meanwhile, I am going to need to find a way to keep being who I am and not slip into the cliched tired, angry, overworked slave monkey who only responds to passive-aggressiveness and chocolate. So... I will spend my days with the elderly, my nights grinding espresso beans and, as the evening hours pass into the cold calm of Minnesota winter nights, I'll come home to process it all.

Keep on keepin' on~
Tempa

A plea for the lonely...

It was only my third night of working behind the counter at Cafe Espresso. I'm not a big coffee drinker, so learning all the special names for the highly-caffeinated beverages makes me nervous. I was studying the drink sheet as you approached the counter with the empty water pitcher. Silly me... so worried about the Latte's that I forgot about the water. I apologized, you told me not to be sorry and went back to the books. You were studying something... for grad school, I assume. Perhaps, however, you are younger than I took you for. I'm not always the best at guessing ages. Time passes. You, and your piercing brown eyes, approach the counter again in your casual yet somehow extremely attractive sweatpants. I feared I had forgotten something else, but you just wanted a hot chocolate. Your second of the night. I'm glad you didn't get anything fancy...to be honest, you kind of made me nervous...in the giddy-school-girl kind of way. As the closing announcements were made, you packed your things, gave me a half smile and walked out the doors before I had the chance to say something clever like "Have a good night" or "Thank You".

So... to the brown-eyed, sweatpant wearing, hot chocolate drinking, studier, I don't know who you are, where you came from, if you're attached, or if you'd even like a girl like me... but I do know I'd like you to come back sometime.

Till then,

Tempa

Simple complexity

Good evening,

As the lingering hours of the weekend slowly pass into just another Monday, I find myself blindsided by how infinitely large the world is and how small I seem in comparison. I realize that within the last year and a half of sending my thoughts into this electronic void I may have already mentioned my affinity for thinking of things on a larger scale than most. I can't see an old run-down house beside the highway without wondering what it must have been like living there years ago before the highway existed. I can't stand anywhere near those giant motorized windmills without feeling like I have somehow been reduced to miniscule proportions. I am moved by pictures of the "good ol' days" and can't seem to look at them without imagining what went on after the photograph was taken. I have always been intrigued by the fact that someone...somewhere... could quite possibly be doing the exact same thing as I am and neither of us would have any knowledge of the other. My point to all this is that I often look at simple things through a very large lens. So large, in fact, that it makes some things very difficult for me to grasp.

Every Thursday evening, I attend a young adult bible study. We are currently discussing the book of Genesis and this past week, more specifically, the story of Noah and his Ark. Within the discussion, we were told the exact dimensions of this gargantuan wooden vessel. A football field and a half long, 2 inches wider than a standard church sanctuary, and 17 stories tall. That, my weblog friends, is just about the craziest thing I have ever heard. In further discussion someone mentioned that, back in the 70's, scientists thought they had found the ark resting between two mountains over in eastern Europe somewhere. Can you imagine what that must have been like? Flying overhead, looking down expecting to see snow covered mountain tops, but instead seeing a petrified wooden boat that wouldn't fit inside the Metrodome. As I attempt to get my seemingly tiny mind around the extent of what it must have been like to discover a boat of, literally, Biblical proportions... I am only more flabbergasted (that's right... intense times call for intense words) by the fact that it was that mass of petrified wood that saved Noah and his family so many years ago AND on top of all that... it was all meticulously orchestrated by the same Lord that orchestrates my life.

That is when you lose me. That is when the immensity of this world and the intricacy of the God who created it become far too much for my feeble, yet college-educated, mind to comprehend. And that is when I am blindsided by the simple complexity of how little I am in comparison to how enormous life is around me.

Dream big-
Live bigger-
Tempa.

Dabbling in all things artistic...

Greetings, from my apartment on a wednesday afternoon. Yes, that's right. I have the day off. As Jason Mraz says... "La La la la la la la, life is Wonderful!' What better to do on a Wednesday afternoon away from work than update a blog.

So, everyone who knows me knows I'm at least a little creative. I write songs, get excited about doing all things craft relatated, and technically creativity is a huge part of my chosen profession. I like doing everything artistic.... writing, photography, guitar, piano, painting...but I'm not really exceptionally taleneted with any of them. I can take an artsy picture, I can write a meaningful lyric here and there... but as much as I like dabbling in all things artistic... I really wish I was exceptionally good at just one of them. Like Emily Dickinson or Edgar Degas. I wish I could write a song like Sara Groves and have it mean something to someone. I wish I could play a sonata like Chopin and have someone be moved. I do take a certain amount of pride in the fact that I at least am semi-talented in a few areas, but I just wish I could excel in just one of them.

Anyway... those are just my thoughts for the day. I'm going ot leave you with a few poems I have written over the years (mostly in the last few) and a few pictures I have taken recently. If you're into poetry, or creativity in general, let me know what you think. I'd love some input!








BREATHE
Inhale
the laughter
the unfailing love
The little moments of each day.
Exhale.
the lonliness
the apathy
the complex of inferiority
Inhale.
the sunsets.
the autumn air.
the new beginnings.
Exhale.
the empty words.
the lost meanings.
the false promises
Inhale.
the music
the poignant lyrics and soft melodies
The songs that take you back where you started
Exhale
the songs that play where you are today.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Breathe.
-2004

IN A GIRL
She has blonde hair
I don’t.
I could never pull it off
and it would just be out of control anyway.
They love her hair
and her straight teeth.
and her blue eyes.
It’s what they always wanted,
In a girl.
Everyday she looks to the mirror
to make sure she is beautiful.
Everyday she makes sure they notice.
They notice.
She’s all they ever wanted
In a girl.
I carry a journal
Not because it's popular
That's just what I do.
She carries Clinique,
Revlon,
Aveda..
I eagerly talk of love,
music,
faith,
and other things they seemingly dismiss.
I make them laugh.
She can make them cry.
If she were like me
Her mirror wouldn’t recognize her;
Neither would they.
Because she’s all they ever wanted,
In a girl.
-2005