Alright, alright, alright. *Matthew McConaughey voice*
Another 20-something starting a blog?? I know, it's novel.
Back when LiveJournals were cool, I kept one up - an entry a day for about 5 years. It's funny, as a woman just a few years shy of 30 (gulp), to be able to go back and read through what are essentially the archives of my angsty and wonderful youth. I could provide a link to that blog, but, I mean...that would basically be the equivalent of me posting a picture of my oversized nose, braces, and hair parted straight down the middle. And who wants that?
But I love writing! And I miss it. In so many ways, writing is a spiritual discipline for me - without it, I feel a little empty and less myself.
So here we are.
Why do I think my opinions are worth blogging? I guess I don't, really. But I know that there's a writing-shaped hole in my heart, and I think it's time I stopped worrying whether or not people would think this is a dumb idea.
One of my very favorite quotes of all time is by a theologian named Frederick Buechner, who wrote:
"The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet."
For years, like many people my age, I've been trying to discern what it is I'm supposed to do with the life I've been given. I've had some incredible jobs - jobs that have given me joy. Jobs that have made my heart sing. But still, there's a yearning for something I can't quite put my finger on, and the more I talk to other 20-somethings who aren't on track to become fabulous medical professionals or attorneys or accountants, I get the feeling I'm not alone.
I'd say I spend a fair amount of time worrying about not having found my niche yet. "I'm wasting my life.'" "Am I going to look back on these years before I found 'it' with regret?" "Look at Lena Dunham! She's 29 and she has two movies, a TV show, a book, and a podcast. Why haven't I accomplished that much??" "Why did I just eat that entire pot of mashed potatoes??"
...okay, maybe that last one isn't about finding my purpose, but it sure feels correlated.
But then, there are moments of stillness when I look around at the gorgeous mountains that surround our little house, at my sleeping dog not-so-quietly snoring, and my husband tinkering with his latest project...in those moments, some blessed peace of mind washes over me and I think, "Stop. Notice. Breathe. Relax. You're okay. It doesn't matter that the house is messy. It doesn't matter that you aren't sure what to do. You're doing fine. Take it a day at a time."
And I am restored in remembering that I (and all of us) are enough, just as we are.
My calling still seems elusive to me, but it's punctuated by moments of deep hunger for its speedy arrival and deep gladness for exactly the moment I'm in. Sometimes that moment features me crying because SERIOUSLY, it's good to be alive, and sometimes it features relishing the trashiest shows on TV.
Balance, people. It's about balance. And that's what this blog is all about - a little bit of everything, because the folks who are kind enough to visit my corner of the Internet deserve a wide variety of subject matter. Who says you can't have it all?
- Are you a 20- or 30- or any-something, wondering if you're the only soul out there secretly resenting the wunderkinds and trying to figure out what you're meant to do?
- Can we talk about what's happening in the world?
- Do you want to read about some beautiful places to go and fun things to do in Asheville?
- Are you in the mood for some Southern food?
- Do you want to read a recap of of The Bachelor?
- Are you itching for another 26-year-old blogger to force her husband to take pictures of her while she poses in thousands of dollars' worth of merchandise? (That's just a joke. Sorry. That won't be happening here. Although I do love those daggum blogs.)
Then hop on board. Not quite sure where this train is going, but I'd love to have you along for the ride. What I can promise is that this will be the potentially vulnerable chronicle of some deep hunger (probably both literal and figurative) and deep, deep gladness.
Because...well, I'll let Beuchner close us out: