Finding All I Need

From time to time, we like to check in with each other, to see how we’re weathering this whole living in a foreign land thing. Are we homesick? Are we tired? Are we happy? Are we thrilled? It’s a periodic reaching out of fingers, past the daily and the mundane, to reconnect with the essence and the essential.

On New Year’s Day, Toby and I celebrated the first morning at the dawn of the year by sharing conversation over coffee and croissants. It was one of those rare carefree days where we had nothing in particular to do, nowhere in particular to be, and no one in particular to see. It was the kind of day where you could sip your coffee and feel the sun warm your face, lean back in your chair and experience the weightlessness of a moment where time ceases to matter.

It was a perfect time for checking in.

And he said to me that he learned something, in moving here to Thailand. He said he learned that all he really needs to be happy in life is his wife and his dog, and some friends to rock climb with from time to time, and that wherever I am is home.

{Pardon me while I swoon for a moment and fall in love all over again.}

It’s true; moving abroad strips you down to the core. You learn really quickly what is convenience, what is nicety, and what is necessity. In the tough moments, you expect you’d learn the worst of each other…but the truth is, you learn the best of each other. At least, I know I learned the best of him.

You’re home for me too, babe. You’re home for me too.

Each Thursday, we come together to celebrate living life with intention by capturing a glimmer of the bigger picture through a simple moment. To spice things up a little, during this month of FEBRUARY, we’re reflecting upon the tender gifts of love – however ordinary or extraordinary – that bring sparkle our lives. Share a picture, words, creation or list; just come to the table with LOVE in your heart.

Live.
Reflect on the moments that shimmered in your heart.

Capture.
Harvest them!

Share.
Link up your gleaned moment this week at Melissa’s! Please be sure to link to your post, not your blog, and include our button or a link back to the host page.

Encourage.
Visit some of the other participants and encourage each other in this journey we call life.

{Bigger Picture Moments} Dancing Under Wisteria

Photography by Kelly Segre Photography

It was after everyone had departed. The grounds were quiet. Guests had headed to their hotels to change or freshen up for the reception. Our photographers had taken all the shots they needed after the ceremony. Our wedding party had a few minutes to wander the gardens in the golden evening light, and we had a few minutes to bask in the glow of: yes, we are actually married.

Everything else melted away and it was just me and him, an untouchable two who had newly become one.

What a special feeling that is, isn’t it? You remember it, even years later: the warmth on your skin, the way he squeezed your hand extra tight, the radiance of colors, the effervescence of love. You’re so full of it, you’re positively thrumming. It feels impossible to fit that much happiness in one being all at once.

So we danced. We took strident, world-conquering steps together towards the wisteria arch, under which we were wed. And in the shade of fragrant, lavender blossoms, we danced. Coordinating our steps to the song in our hearts, he led with princely poise and I twirled down on Cinderella toes.

In the garden, in the quiet, in the glow, we danced.

Photography by Kelly Segre Photography

Each Thursday, we come together to share the harvest of intentional living by capturing a glimmer of the bigger picture through a simple moment. And to spice it up a little, during the month of FEBRUARY, we’ll be reflecting upon the tender gifts of love that bring sparkle our lives.

Share a picture, words, creation or list; just come to the table with LOVE in your heart.

Live.
Reflect on the blessings that were apparent to you this week.

Capture.
Harvest them!

Share.
Link up your gleaned moment this week HERE! Please be sure to link to your post, not your blog. Your post must link back here or have our button in your post or the link will be deleted.

Encourage.
Visit at least the person linked before you and encourage her in this journey we call life.

what he was waiting for

August 2006

“Do you think he’s ready?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how much more time it could take, how much more we could do to know if this is it or not. I just don’t know what he’s waiting for.”

——————————————————-

December 2006

Despite the chill in the air, we felt glowy and warm. We huddled in our thick jackets and caught a bus to the Christmas market, where we stood under blinking Christmas lights, sipped gluhwein, watched vendors selling fresh marzipan and nougat, and smiled at shoppers mingling with their little ones in tow. Christmastime in Berlin is nothing short of magical – especially to this southern Californian who finds snow a foreign element.

On Christmas Eve, we went to Mass and reveled in the triumphant music, and then Toby and I joined his family at their home for more caroling, gift giving, and holiday joy by their tree which was decorated so beautifully with real candles shining their cozy flame.

We each took turns opening our gifts and collectively appreciating each one, until finally there were none.

The air buzzed with a satisfied glow.

And then, Toby announced: “Well, I have do one more gift to give…”

Looking around at him, my pleasant surprise turned into a heartstop, the only part of me moving was the blood rushing to my face.

He was down on one knee.

He took my hand, cleared his throat, and said, “I had a speech all planned, but now I’ve forgotten it. Will you marry me?”

I burst into tears, grabbed him in an embrace, and cried very wet yeses into his neck.

His family applauded, though his dad was still unsure. “Did she say yes?” he wondered.

Yes, a thousand times, I said yes.

I guess he was only waiting for it to be magical.

This month, the gang at Bigger Picture Blogs is celebrating and sharing love.

Join in the fun at Hyacynth’s this week and share the love!

The Way We Met

…was a series of coincidences that might have easily gone any other way.

It was the first day of painting class in a bright, fresh new year at university. I spotted a guy across the room who I thought was so good-looking that…well, let’s just say, by the second day, I had my easel set up next to his. Nothing serious, of course. I did have a boyfriend at the time. Just, you know, when a girl’s gotta’ get her Muse on, it doesn’t hurt to have a nice view.

We chatted and made friendly. But nothing serious, ’cause, I did have a boyfriend after all.

One quarter bled into another, and then we had a different class together, but this time, he had a girlfriend too, and so all we exchanged were some hellos and a few blithe quips. Our worlds kept on going, always along the outer edges of each other’s orbits.

Then summer came along and I had plans to go to Thailand. And then he had plans to go to Thailand. At the same time. And we said, “We should totally meet up.” “Yeah, totally, we should meet up.”

And then we didn’t. Because it wasn’t ever anything serious at all.

And then, I moved into a new place and broke up with my boyfriend. He broke up with his girlfriend. Change was in the wind and I was a butterfly floating on top of it. I was walking to class with my friend, Sumit, and then I saw him.

“Hey, you went to Thailand! I went to Thailand!”

“Wait, yeah, that’s right!”

“We should totally meet up and share photos!”

“Right! We should!”

And we never exchanged numbers or addresses or dates. But after we parted ways, Sumit turned to me and said, “What was that?”

“What was what?” Except my blush coulda’ lit up a red light district.

And then, I was in the library and he was in the library, and I said, “Hey I’m in a new place. You should come over and we can share those photos.” And then we did exchange numbers and addresses and dates.

And then he came over. And then he kept coming over. And I said, “I just got out of a three-year relationship. I just want to keep things loose. No commitments.” “That’s fine,” he said. Besides, it was nothing serious. He was the type to have nipple piercings and tell stories about all the crazy stuff he got into…and I was so not.

But then I saw that he wasn’t that type at all, not really. I saw that if he was a type at all, he was the only one in it.

And then I didn’t want to keep things loose anymore, and I said, “I don’t want to see anyone else anymore. I just want to see you.” “That’s fine,” he said. “Nothing serious. It’s just I like you, is all.” That’s what I said. What I meant was I liked him enough not to want to let him go.

And then one day, he had to go to work, and I caught his hand. I might have squeezed my eyes shut so I wouldn’t see my voice shake. “I’m in love with you,” I said. “You don’t have to say anything back, I just –”

“Actually, I love you too.” And when I opened my eyes, I saw his bright blue eyes shining on me like I was his angel sent down to earth just for him. And I thought maybe I’d found my angel too.

Doin’ a little focus on love, for the month of February!
Share your love with us, this week at Alita’s!

P.S. And now we live in Thailand. Turns out it was pretty serious after all.

Pinnacle Moments

Welcome to the fourth edition of Pinnacle Moments! For those of you just joining us, Pinnacle Moments is a series where we share a defining moment in our lives…maybe it’s a day you had an epiphany, or made a choice or faced a circumstance that changed the course of your life, or realized something about who you are deep down, etc. Or it can even be about your sweetest romantic memory…a defining moment in your relationship with your spouse or significant other! Last week, Brook from Red Head Reverie had an incredible story of strength and hope to share. This week, the tale is one of my own. It wasn’t an easy time in my life, by any stretch of the imagination. It was a painful time, but it’s one which I remain forever grateful to have experienced.

Here’s my story:

Seven months and a chasm lay between us. He arrived on my doorstep, quivering with sorrow. His old ’76 Dodge Dart Swinger was parked in my driveway, and the car radio emitted a Coldplay tune as he stood with placards displayed in his hands. Each placard told me how sorry he was, and as the song played, he dropped them one by one to the ground, each one telling me the tale of his heartbreak.

When he finished, I grabbed a jacket and wordlessly headed out into the night. He walked with me into the inky darkness. No lights marked out path leading to the pier, where we sat together, suspended over a colorless abyss.

Into that inky black night, we trembled to speak Truth. In that space between sea and sky, we let forth all that had ever existed between us – three years of love, then pain, folly, betrayal – and we uttered admissions of everything we had once hoped we could be. We walked through fire together. It seared our very marrows, and we emerged, fragile, yet cleansed, like phoenixes rising.

Emptied, we walked back in silence. Questions loomed like cloaks over our heads. Could there be hope? Could there be trust? Could there be more and better a second time around?

In my head, I heard the voices of all who loved me warning me. Don’t be stupid. Don’t be weak. And I believed them. I was prepared to say, “Never again.”

But then we stood facing each other, like little more than children upon a precipe, separated by a living room suffused with fear.

And that’s when I felt it: a great huge invisible chain with a claw for a hook thrust itself physically into my navel and yanked me towards the man standing before me. There is no rational reason to believe it to be true, but I felt it snatch me from the inside and it left me breathless. Never in my life, before or since, have I so physically felt there might be truth to the word soulmate.

And that’s when I knew I was dealing with something larger than myself. There was no escaping loving this man with more than I ever thought I had. I could exist without him. Seven months apart had proved I could move on with my life and move forward and be okay. But there was no escaping the depth of love we had for each other. It was beyond reason – nothing more or less than simple Truth.

And that’s when I learned it’s not stupidity or weakness to forgive the ones we love. Rather, it requires courage and clear-headedness. It requires strength. The first step towards healing and redemption turned out to be…

…a leap of faith.

And I leapt. I married that man 3 years later, and this year we celebrated our third wedding anniversary.

A couple of days ago, we were sitting in a restaurant with my parents and my husband went to take care of something. As I watched him go, my heart smiled and I said, “I have a good husband.” My mother nodded, and said, “Yes, you do.”

We have more tales next week! If you wish to share YOUR Pinnacle Moment, just let me know. Hope to see you here again next Wednesday!

Pinnacle Moments {Queen Lucy}

Welcome to the second edition of Pinnacle Moments, where we are sharing our transcendent moments: times of utmost clarity, of profound decisions, and of deepest love! Last week, we read Cynthia’s story of community and inspiration (and divine brownies). This week, I would like to introduce you to witty and fabulous, Queen Lucy the Valiant. Pull up a squooshy, comfy cushiony chair, refresh your cup of coffee or tea and maybe snag some chocolate. You’ll need it for this tale that melts the heart!

From Lucy:

I rested my forehead against the airplane window and gazed out at a field of clouds, barely seeing them. It’s a short plane ride from Atlanta to Dallas, but my heart had been leaping and bounding for the entire trip. I was painfully, physically aware that I was hurtling towards the most important person in my world, and that I barely knew him. It was the most surreal feeling I’ve ever known, that unshakable conviction that we belonged together even though we’d only spent a week together a few months before. I felt like the bride of an arranged marriage, about to meet her groom for the first time, but no matchmaker or parent had arranged this. No matter how crazy it sounded, I knew with perfect clarity that God had. I didn’t question that but just then, struggling with my nerves in the airplane, I did question other things. Was I ready for this? Was he? Would the present reality of who I was match up favorably with his memory of that first week? What about the present reality of who he was? How could we be in love, really in love already? Was it all some elaborate dream? My nerves have never been stretched so thin, before or since that plane ride. Yet underneath it all ran that sweet, unshakable conviction that this was right.

Three months before, I had flown to Texas to spend my Christmas break with some friends. Not liking the sound of the guy I was currently dating (casually dating, I had stressed to him before I left, we aren’t exclusive. I’m not ready for exclusive right now.) they decided to set me up on a blind date or two over the break. They set up a date with a boy from their church, a boy I vaguely remembered seeing on a previous visit. (A boy, I found out later, who had tried to talk to me then because he thought I was pretty. A boy who occasionally saw pictures of me at this friend’s house and would say to himself, “I’m going to marry her. No, that’s crazy.”)

He’d called me to set up the date, and I laid in bed that night, plotting what to wear. Then the thought hit me with so much force that I sat up in bed – “I’m going to marry him.”

The next day he picked me up and took me to a movie (King Kong, and I cringed into his shoulder whenever those gigantic bugs came onscreen) and then dinner and then bowling and he showed me how to play pool, and checked me out in the nice way, not the creepy way. He took me out again the next day, and we kissed for the first time that evening. He’d always prayed that he would know the girl he was supposed to marry when he kissed her, he told me later.

We spent every waking minute together for the rest of the week, and the night I went back to school we talked for hours.

“This is kind of embarrassing,” He’d said as I sat in the hallway of my dorm late that night. “I don’t want to freak you out. But I…told all my friends that I’m going to marry you.”

“That’s funny, I told all my friends that I’m going to marry you!” I laughed, happiness overwhelming me. And it had been as simple as that, just an accepted truth that we belonged together. Through marathon phone conversations we planned our future together. We discussed wedding logistics and discovered how much we had in common… religion, politics, how to make tuna sandwiches. We talked about careers and goals and babies and we knew we sounded crazy, but we didn’t care. When a relationship is not right, you know, deep down inside, even if you don’t admit it to yourself. But when it is right…it just is. Like gravity, or breathing air.

I hadn’t suffered any doubts or second thoughts until that plane ride from Atlanta to Dallas three months later, going down for Spring break, knowing that I would be going back at the end of the week with an engagement ring. Every doubt and fear was packed into those two and a half hours, and I barely had the courage to get up after every other passenger had left. It wasn’t the memory of those first kisses, or the impossibly wonderful conversations we’d had since, or the longing to see him again that gave me courage to move. It was that conviction that this was God’s plan. Fear and doubt and anxiety stripped everything else away, but that conviction stubbornly remained. I couldn’t argue with it or deny it.

I got up and exited the plane. I stopped at the restroom to fix my hair and makeup. I dragged my feet to the baggage claim. And there he was, waiting for me, wearing jeans and a t-shirt and great big construction boots, right off a shift at the warehouse where he worked then.

“Ohhhh.” Breathed that anxious internal voice that had been panicking for the past two and a half hours. “Him. I remember, he’s perfect.” I launched myself up into his arms and he held me against his chest, tighter than tight. And we have stayed that way ever since.

I don’t know about y’all, but my heart’s doing palpitations! Join us again next week for another edition of Pinnacle Moments. If you have a transcendental moment to share, let me know in the comments or email me. We’d love to hear your tale!

Pathangoh

When I saw the deep fried strips of dough, I just knew I had to have them. Pathangoh is kind of the Thai version of doughnuts (though they have regular donuts here too) that they sell in street-side food stalls and serve with steaming hot soymilk and various jellied or oat goodies in the milk. You can rip up the dough and dunk it in the milk for a tasty breakfast or dessert.

They remind me of my grandmother, who used to eat them every day, dunked in sweetened condensed milk. I went for the soymilk instead because, well, I choose life.

As far as the taste goes, I find them all right – nothing to write home about. But I love them for the memories of my grandmother, her soft, wrinkled skin, and her laugh.

Do you ever do that? Love something simply for reminding you of someone special?

Three Years and A Third of Our Lives

Three years ago today, Toby and I were married. This day marks a milestone, not only in the three years we’ve been wed, but also in the near decade we’ve been together. A third of our lives. So much time (and yet so little), and so many changes we’ve both gone through, it’s as if we’ve had several relationships, not just the one.

The part that I’m most proud of? That we know life brings change, and we’re willing to roll with the changes, to watch how we both grow and alter, to accommodate that even when we’re not sure where it will lead, and come back together and love each other anew.

It’s like falling in love over and over again.

With the same person.

It’s not always easy. But it is always rewarding. Sometimes even more so than you ever thought possible.

(Even if it takes a little patience to get to the rewarding part.)

Happy Anniversary, my love.

This Monday’s Motivation? A toast: to three years more, and three years more, and three years more….happily ever after.

update: And look what he brought home for me!

Aren’t they lovely? And they match our wedding colors perfectly! Smart man.

Of course, then he said the real reason he chose his bunch is because the furry round balls remind him of green scrotum.

I had to laugh. He had a point. And clearly the inclusion of green scrota is essential to any well-made bouquet.

what it means to heal

Melissa’s brave post reminded me of one I wrote a few years ago. I want to revisit it now, because some moments are worth remembering from time to time.

“We know who we are and define what we are by references to the people we love and our reasons for loving them….I’d lost my closest friends and with them I’d lost the mark on the psychic map that says You Are Here.” -Gregory David Roberts, Shantaram

Seven years ago, I lost my husband – or rather, I should say, we lost each other. Everything I thought I knew about love and relationships came crashing down around my ears in that moment, and I was left crying and bleeding on the cold tiled bathroom floor. All I could think was “This is the sound of my heart breaking. This is what heartbreak feels like.” It was then that I learned what strength meant, what it required, and what I had in me to endure.

We parted ways and the damage seemed irrevocable.

It took nearly a year, a long-distance phone call, a few soul-searching letters, and a midnight conversation on a pier overlooking the ink black ocean before we found each other again. Even then, I think our souls recognized each other before our wary minds and jaded hearts did. Because heartbreak changes you. When it happens to you, you are never the same again.

It took two more years before I found a place where I could say I had healed. There are scars still, a few ghost twinges of pain remembered, but I finally felt we had rebuilt something new: something so much stronger, and so much deeper, so solid that I could trust it for a lifetime.

Because forgiveness is not something you easily or automatically have; where you flip a switch and suddenly it’s there. It’s a choice you make every day: a choice between grumbling over the hurts of the past, or dealing with what’s in front of you here and now. It’s not always the big traumas that doom a relationship. Often it’s the little things we do every day that either strengthen or undermine the bond between ourselves and others.

Commitment is not just a promise you make on your wedding day. It’s also a choice you make every day. Sometimes the choice is so easy you never even think of it. It can be as simple as picking up the phone, picking up the kids, or picking up the socks from the floor. Or it can be as difficult and profound as the right words at the right time, an embrace when it’s most needed, or refusing to act in a way the other might “deserve”, and instead acting in the best way you can find to keep your relationship strong. It’s insisting upon sticking through the rough patches to reach the sun on the other side. Even when you’re not entirely convinced the sun is there.

When you lose someone you love, it is like losing the magnetic pull on the compass of who you are. But sometimes being lost for a time is necessary. Becoming truly lost means you finally know who you are when everything else is stripped away. That way, when you begin again, you know what is real. It gives you the strength you need to make a leap, to love someone when all you have is hope, and trust when all you have is a shred of tiny, but nevertheless stubborn, faith.

The second time around you are stronger. Wiser. More thoughtful. And all that was, was worthwhile, to have what you have now. Finding out that the love you thought was lost has actually been with you all the while, and moreover, that the love is better and deeper than you ever believed love could be is like getting a glimpse of the Eternal. It is something too powerful to be felt completely, all at once.

So I do the only thing I can. I celebrate it in little pieces, every day.

Join in sharing a simple, big moment at Melissa’s this week!

Love, Love, Love

Happy Valentine’s Day!

It’s funny. Ever year, around mid-January, I always think “Oh man, Valentine’s Day is coming up” and then start stressing about coming up with gift ideas and thinking, oh this year, we don’t really have to do much. And mostly we don’t. We usually exchange gifts and go out for a nice dinner, but the part that is funny is how I totally try not to give a crap about V-Day, and then when it actually rolls around, I get all sappy and girly like it’s a contagious affliction.

This year, I really figured we wouldn’t do much since we’re in Thailand, and do they even celebrate here anyway? Never underestimate the Thai compunction to find any reason to have fun. And if it involves cuteness? Oh yeah, all the way. Red and pink and purple has exploded in every store like it’s an invasion of the Care Bears. Or perhaps Sanrio gone wild.

But we said we wouldn’t do much.

And then I got little secret surprises to mail to nieces in the U.S.

And then I cut out little hearts and made banners to hang in the windows.

And then I made the hubby buy me an OVEN and a TON of baking supplies just so I could bake him almond sugar cookies with passion fruit frosting.*

(It was an experiment. The cookies turned out just right but the frosting needs some tweaking, it’s a bit too rich. Okay, it’s like the Sultan of Brunei of cookie frostings.)

And then this morning the hubby told me he has a surprise planned for tonight. I was like, “I thought we weren’t going to do anything much!” Because, dood, he already bought me an oven and all I have are some experimental gourmet cookies for him.

And then he said not to worry because surprises on Valentine’s Day are what husbands are for.

{swoon.}

Said husband:

So, it turns out I cannot escape the cuteness. I’m sappy and girly and love all things romantic (and am lucky enough to have a husband who indulges these qualities). So HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY to you all!

And if you’re looking for some passion with your coffee today, head over to Coffee Served Daily. She’s posting every half hour between 5 a.m. and 3:30 p.m. PST – and a couple of my new, never-before-seen photos (including the one at the top of this post) will be featured.

Love & Hugs,

- J

* And, okay, really we bought the oven because we discovered that 3 months is too long to go without being able to bake anything at all. And it still felt like blood-letting.

Jade Keller

Tag Archives: love