The Purpose of Life is to Have a Life of Purpose

Many of us don't know our purpose in life. We spend years, maybe our whole lives, searching for it. Some find it, others get to the grave and will have never found it. Could it be, maybe, you're living your purpose right now?

Rory and I were talking about the thought of our generations just being recycled. We are born into the world, leave whatever footprint we think is important for the next in line of our family, and we move on down the line until we die decades later, leaving our children and grandchildren to do the same thing. Some follow our footprints in a straight line, others might drift off creating their own path, but eventually get back on the same one, which leads to the end of their life span. It's like a conveyor belt. It goes multiple directions, but everything ends up in a box, shipped to their destination.

Watching the republican debate the other night had me thinking heavily about what's important to the people of this nation. I've written about this before here and I'd like to think I'm still living the life I want to live and fighting for the things I've always fought for. My wish is for people in my life to do the same thing. See what's important to you, hold on to it, and never let go.

We live in a scary world right now. I, personally, am living in a city ranked 7 in a list of 10 worst cities to live in. When it comes to crime, we are ranked 16th highest in the nation. And sure, eventually most cities are going to be unsafe and those numbers are going to rise quickly, but that won't take away what I believe to be my purpose in life. I'll still be the best mother I can be, and God willing some day, the best wife I can be.

When that conveyor belt ends, I'd like to think everything I learned will be taken out and left for my son and niece and nephews to pick up and carry on. Learn from my mistakes, as well as the good choices I made. Hold on to what's useful, and discard everything else.

If you haven't already watched the video I posted a couple years ago, I encourage you to. It would be interesting to see what these people wish today in such a volatile part of the world.

"I wish that the whole world could realize what they really are." - Says the guy at 1:16

The Lost Generation

Syria. What a fucking mess. Worst humanitarian disaster of our time. This photo {quazi} woke up the world when it went viral. It's probably going to be "too much to see" but Jesus, is this what has to be seen for us to realize what's going on? The body of 3 year old, Aylan, washed up on shore, face down in the sand. He drowned trying to flee his God forsaken country in a boat with his mother and brother who also died when the boat cap-sized.

What's eve worse, is children, elderly, and people in general are dying every day in desperate need of escaping the worst civil war in our time. 7.6 million people have fled Syria since March 2011 while we sit on our ass looking at new ways to decorate the living room. What a disgrace. Are we that self absorbed?

Between Syria's civil war, and the rise of Isis, the world is in the worst refugee crisis since World War II. Over 11 million people are displaced because of it and roughly 240,000 have died.

But we don't care, do we? We'd rather browse Facebook to see what our friends are doing this weekend, and catch up on the latest drama. The bars and the beaches are flooded this Labor Day weekend with people enjoying a day off. Let's not forget about the people who haven't had a day off in over four years out of fear they will be killed. This little boy was born into the same war that killed him. His 3rd birthday was surrounded by refugees instead of friends, whatever he could find to eat instead of cake, and gunshots for candles.

May God bless what's less of that mess.

Taken from A Holy Experience, these are some of the things you can do to help: 

–> Mennonite Central Committee
–> World Relief (donate to provide backpacks for resettled children here)
–> World Vision
–> Samaritan’s Purse
–> Doctors Without Borders: Has three rescue ships in the Mediterranean, on Tuesday alone they rescued 1,658 people
–> UNICEF
–> Hand in Hand for Syria: Working within Syrian borders to provide aid. Donations are made via British currency but these are easily converted from US donations during the transaction.

If you’d like to help Syrian refugees stranded on the Greek Island of Lesvos, see the list below, and mail to:
Hellenic Postal Office of Mythymna
℅ The Captain’s Table
Molyvos 81108, Lesvos, Greece

ITEMS TO SEND for SYRIAN REFUGEES on GREEK ISLAND OF LESVOS:

Sneakers, gym shoes for men, women and children (all sizes) are a HIGH PRIORITY
Sweatpants of all sizes.
Briefs/underwear for men, women and children (all sizes)
Men’s trousers (small, medium and large) and shoes
Baby powder milk
Any non-perishables like nut butters or other long-lasting foods.
Diapers
Feminine products
Sleeping bags
Plastic to cover the floor/for shade
Tents/tarpaulin
Mats (camping or yoga mats)
Hats and caps for sunshade (adults and children/light colours because of the sun)
Electric Plug for multiple devices (european voltage)

When it's all said and done - PRAY. Pray for these children who will be lost forever in a world who won't save them. For the girl forcing a smile, for the boy who put his hands up because he thought a camera was a gun, and for the little girl who doesn't think her baby doll should see it all. Who's covering her eyes? 

Let's uncover ours. 

Make sure your love runs deep enough to affect your hospitality, empathy, fidelity, and contentment. 
Hebrews 13:5 

Birthday Snuggles

Woke up to 31 yesterday, and smiles from this little guy. I grabbed my camera (aka, my iphone flip) and snapped this before we got up and moving for the day. 

Best birthday gift ever - morning snuggles from the love of my life. 

Tuesdays with Talon

It seems like a long time since I've posted anything, and that's not because I haven't written. I write almost every day, but those journals probably won't ever make it outside. I've never been a huge fan of putting my life out on social media, but I do understand the importance of my family and closest friends wanting to know what's going on, so I let you know here; on this electronic little journal we call a blog.

Talon is 4 months and a monster. He's well over 20lb, a solid 8lb heavier than his cousin, Carter, who is the same age. He loves dancing with his mama, eating his toes, slap boxing, and singing to himself. He's laughing pretty much all the time, until he's not, and he turns hangry and Frank the Tank comes out. 

Been hanging out in Georgia for the past 3 months. Not sure if we're going to stay here or head west, maybe to Oregon. Talon and I went on a solo mission out to California so my family could meet him, and I could meet Carter, Stacey's son. They are only 5 days apart. Carter on the left, Talon on the right. 

It seems like a blur, and ages ago that we arrived in Georgia. We left Montana at the end of May and 12 states later, we landed in Georgia. These are some long over due photos of our trip along the way, and why not a poem I wrote while driving through eastern Iowa.

Open land and empty spaces
Small country towns and friendly faces
Over the plains, maybe wildlife unknown
Livestock and crops are all homegrown
Some never left; others just passing through
Old timers tip their hats when they bid someone adieu
Metal silos and water towers
Countless rivers and wild flowers
No billboards here, only American flags
You won't find "Gucci" on any clothing tags
Always a "yes, ma'am" when they serve your plates
Welcome to the midwest of the United States.
_______________________________________

Montana

Wyoming

Stages of Talon's road trip....

 Howling practice

Georgia

I have to admit, I'm still in shock over the fact I have a son. Being a mother was something I always wanted, and at some point, told myself I didn't want it. It was during that time when I found out I was pregnant, and I was in a whirlwind of emotions, but my God. It happened and I'm a mother.

Every day brings its own set of surprises, smiles, blowouts, snuggles, habits, meltdowns and milestones. Every day, I wake up and choose this tiny little butterball of a human. Every day, I get to look at this child, and find myself somewhere in his eyes. The best part is, he looks right back at me. And as Morrie Schwartz always believed, the purpose of life is to love and be loved. I might wander around a bit geographically, but I'll always find myself right here. 

"Let yourself be silently drawn to the strange pull of what you really love." -Rumi

Coffee Cup Time Machine

Let's see. This day, last year,  I was sitting in my office having meltdown. The only reason I know this fun fact, is because Sis got me a 5-year journal last year before I left for Alaska. In my 5 lined entry, I wrote something along the lines of "over worked, exhausted, having a meltdown." I didn't need to write much to remember that night. It was like a movie scene with two people sitting there having coffee, talking about the past, looking up, the screen goes blurry for a moment, and boom - they are back in time.

It was 11pm and the sun was still bright as day. I was sitting at my desk, one hand holding up my head, the other holding a glass of red wine. I had just finished skyping with my sister, filling her ears with all my problems, because you know, my life was so much rougher than hers. I was living in Alaska, hiking into glaciers, running a white water rafting operation, and she was at home, running a household with two children who didn't want to go to bed. Hm.

There's this part of me, a big part of me, who always looks back at situations and wonders "what if?" It's a terrible thing really, but it's what I do. So I sit here, present day doing just that, thinking I could have stayed in Alaska, I could have gone to British Columbia to chase a love now lost. I could have gone back to California and started over. And while I've played every scenario of how my life would have ended up in either of those places, the reality was the rafting operation failed and I was forced to make a decision. 

The fate of my decisions brought me to Montana. And I'm done living in Montana. I never actually wanted to live here, but at the time, this was the best option. It's been a good year, I've done some cool stuff, but it's time to go.

So, now I have a family. A non-conventional family, yes - but family nonetheless. Yes, I had a baby. No, I'm not married. No, it wasn't planned.

Now I must make another decision. And the adult thing to do, would be considering my family for the next big adventure, right? So maybe I should move closer to family. Maybe to a neighborhood that offers all the things moms look for - safety, good schools, parks, no child molesters, yada yada. 

ehhhh

I'd rather move back to Alaska, or even Baja where safety is never guaranteed. And why can't I? Live off the land in some remote wilderness, or in a small surf village down south without people telling me how to raise my kid, mandatory vaccinations, and the newest a $10,000 fine for using too much water?! Oh California, your days are over for me. Too many people, concrete jungles, not enough trees, and apparently not enough water. 

The other option is northeast Georgia. Now... I like Georgia. Always have. They have plenty of trees, great rivers, open land, nice people and who doesn't love southern food? I can hike the Appalachian Trail any time I want with Talon on my back swatting off all the sand gnats. And my sweet little man will grow up with a southern accent and manners. 

So do I take Talon to Alaska and continue my quest for open space, bears, and independence? Or do I go to the homey state of Georgia where family and sweet tea are endless? Wherever I end up, I will be happy. And I won't look back at my decision and regret it. Because life doesn't give you the option to rewind. I have to keep turning the pages to the next chapters in life, while always remembering my favorite stories in the pages before. 

The story continues but will have to wait. I have a hungry kid staring at my boobs. And who can say no to this face?

"Wherever you go, there you are." 

Meeting Talon McCrae

The love of my life has arrived and he came out swinging. All 9lb of him. It's not something I can describe, and maybe because I haven't fully realized I'm a mother. I'm a MOTHER for crying out loud. This tiny little human relies on me around the clock to be responsible, to feed him on time, to make sure he doesn't sit around in his shit for too long. Am I doing it right? I don't know. He seems happy though.

He eats his hand like it's a rib when he's hungry
He grunts like Beavis and Butthead when he poops - followed by a smile and a sigh
He has to be touching my face when he sleeps
He gets hungry, yet swats my boob when he finally gets near it

Sometimes, I have to just sit there and stare at him and tell myself repeatedly that I'm a mom. He's my son. It's amazing the way life turns and changes and continues to do so, most the time out of my control. I try to plan everything, and I'm realizing what a joke that is. Did I think I'd be here a year ago? Absolutely not. But here I am, and when those deep blue eyes observe my every move, I'm happy to be where I am. When we both fall asleep with his head on my chest, I feel blessed beyond measure. I'm thankful for the little things I've been given, and this little thing right here is about to rock my world. 

"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new." -Osho

Be the Duck. And then Go Fishing.

John Tilly, manager of one of the many fine dining restaurants in Orange County. The best boss I ever had. He was the perfect duck; visibly cool, calm, and collected but I imagine he was paddling like crazy underneath.

I'll never forget John's response to frantic food servers and bartenders. You'd think the place was on fire as they spit out their emergency.  Yet, he always just stood there with a soft, reassuring smile and ended every encounter with, "hey, I'm here for YOU." He never lost it, he only reassured.

As I'm entering the life of motherhood, I often wonder if I'll be able to be a good duck. Constantly in demand, give give give, hold it together, don't break down, and if you do - don't let the world see it. How do the John's of the world do it?

Maybe I'll be like Peter from Office Space. Just cruise around with selective hearing, wearing Birkenstocks because I can, often times zoning out from everything around me.

Or maybe I'll just increase my wine intake. Pour it in a coffee cup and hope my kid never figures out my tricks. Unless of course, he's like my 3 year old niece, who watches as I pour my 3rd cup of "coffee" for the afternoon and says with her head cocked to the side, "hey Bebba, can I have some vino too?" Yeah, that's probably not going to work.

And just like that, I've written about absolutely nothing relevant. Writer's block at it's best. It's all about perspective I suppose. I wrote about nothing, but you read it - so who wasted their time really?

"If people concentrated on the really important things in life, there would be a shortage of fishing poles." -Doug Larson