who you are

a lot has been happening lately ...

but what i've noticed is that i'm more energized.

that's the beauty of having the opportunity to exercise your talents and show people what you're capable of.

you just feel more alive. awake, seemingly for the first time in months ... perhaps years.

i wonder how much different the world would be if we were all given a chance to be who we were created to be?

dear los angeles ...

at first glance you weren't as welcoming as i'd hoped. i guess i imagined you to be more like your more sophisticated brother, new york.

but you just aren't. you're dirty. noisy. busy. fully of cars. and traffic. and ... millions of pretentious film students.

when i first met you, i swore i would never revisit you messy awesomeness and most certainly would check you off the list of places to live.

i was wrong. and i'm sorry.

when i came crawling back to you a little more than three years ago (remember that? my utter desperation? my sense of hope? my willingness to give you another chance because ... let's be honest ... you were my only option for a change of scenery?), i found a place that made my heart flutter.

i think you know what i'm talking about. there is this night club in the center of your city that has been the catalyst for transformation to people all over the world ... including myself.

out of it pours the music of people who have a story to tell. the melody sweeps through the empty streets of downtown and into the souls of the broken.

songs that have been carried to forgotten lands starving for hope ... for something to believe in.

these songs have become letters. letters to be addressed to the people of your city, but ones that we've come to find resonate with all of humanity.

this nightclub is where a group of people gather to listen to what you are trying to say and meets with the sole purpose of having a meaningful conversation back.

this nightclub is the hub of a movement. a place where nearly every corner of the world is represented. and those representatives, myself included, spend only a few months breathing in your smog, fighting the traffic and calling your people our family before we're calling ourselves angelinos.

so, los angeles. i'm here to tell you that i get it now. i get that you were trying to tell me something all along ... that there is much more to you than what meets the eye. and i want you to know that i'm here to stay.

a cup of sugar

i borrowed a cup of sugar from a neighbor friday. actually, it was a half cup of sugar, but that's really beside the point.

i'm not sure what was more startling ... the fact that i was baking on my day off, or the fact that i stepped into one of the biggest cliches in the book.

i always wondered what it would be like to be able to borrow a literal cup of sugar from a neighbor. in my entire 23 years of living in kansas, i never did it. perhaps a lawnmower or vacuum, but never a cup of sugar. and those exchanges never really got me past the front (or garage) door. but at least i knew i could ask without feeling awkward or intrusive.

this situation however, called for desperate measures. (ha ... measures ... get it?! ... ok)

as i was pouring all the ingredients into my mixing bowl, i began feeling a little overwhelmed that my ipod dock seemed to be in a full on battle with the noise coming from the busy los angeles street below my loft. and within minutes, i felt like my day off was being invaded by noise and clutter that i hadn't invited. my simple and unassuming task of baking a batch of cupcakes for a fourth of july party now became a full blown mental marathon. i started whisking in anger and sadness that not one ounce of quietness or a friendly exchange had been a part of my day.

until ... i realized i was a half cup of sugar short of making this a worth-while endeavor.

i panicked.

and then i remembered seeing a neighbor pulling into the parking garage the same time i did a few hours earlier and thought, "maybe she has sugar."

so i texted her and asked if i could borrow a cup of sugar.

she said, "come on down!"

with a nerdish grin as if i had just been chosen to be on the price is right, i grabbed my measuring cup and heading down the elevator. she was on the phone when i got there so we exchanged smiles and mouthed a few words to each other as she listened to the person on the other end of her blue tooth. when she handed back the measuring cup, she mouthed, "are you sure that's all you need?" and i mouthed, "yep. that's great! thank you (with overly animated facial expressions)." we hugged and i headed back to the elevator.

when i got on the elevator, three other people were inside already and i found myself spewing the words (with surprising glee), "i borrowed a cup of sugar from a neighbor!!"

the couple in the elevator just looked at each other like they shared a mutual feeling of my insanity and the other girl just smiled. when the couple left, the girl next to me said, "you actually know someone in this building that you can borrow sugar from? it sounds like such a cliche."

and while i said, "yes," with a proud smile on my face, a part of me actually felt bad that i practically live on top of hundreds of other people who are craving someone to know in case they need something ... whether it's a cup of sugar or just a friendly chat over a cup of coffee ... that i turned around and said, "my name is krysta. i live in apartment 413 if you ever need to borrow anything."

[note: sometimes (a lot of times) the things in my head are so real that i actually thing they happened. such is the case with what i said after saying "yes." i'm really hoping i told her my name and apartment number, but because i'm not super quick on my feet and the elevator door was closing on us ... i'm willing to bet that i didn't. which brings me to the life lesson here ...]

i don't know if i'll ever see her again, but there are three things i learned from that very brief exchange.

1. we all need community. all of us.
2. i need to be far more intentional about creating space to connect with the people around me.
3. i need to stock up on sugar ... you know ... just in case.

the end ... the beginning

i've said before that i kind-of feel like i'm in limbo. i think i said it in the months between giving my resignation and packing up for california. i think i've said it for my entire (almost) three years of living in california. and i say it now as a newly engaged person waiting to take on my new ... and oh-so-intimidating ... role of mrs. vincent masciale.

eek.

with certainty, i am struggling to say good bye to the old me. the me that dreamed of finding 'mr. right' and wondered (with shocking regularity) what it would be like to have someone actually make a commitment to spending the rest of their life with me. and to be perfectly honest ... that loss of hopeful anxiety for a future partner and dreaming big dreams as to what that life would look like (mostly because i knew it wasn't happening anytime soon) is really sad.

there was a time when life was about dreaming big, hollywood esque dreams. mainly because the chances of them happening were so slim. i mean, i had kind-of become accustomed to making romantic wish lists and never checking anything off.

until i made a move ... literally.

and now i'm checking things off one-by-one. and my list is getting smaller and more intimidating.

i keep thinking, "is this it? is this the end of my hopeful anxiety of this fairy tale life? is this the end of the girl-talks with friends at impromptu sleepovers?"

and then i slap myself and say, "woe is me for having a fiance and a life that even i drool over." i mean really. here i am crying over the pending death of krysta rinke all because i'm afraid that krysta masciale might not have as much to look forward to. i keep wondering if krysta masciale will do what krysta rinke is doing right now five years from now ... remembering the good ole days when things were so fresh and new and hopeful? or will she end up losing herself in a new name, piles of laundry and diapers?

the truth is. i don't know the answer to the future. but i know that i have to stop fearing that i'll become the wife and possibly mother that somewhere along the way stopped dreaming and hoping for a life of romance and adventure. and perhaps, be more concerned with the steps i'm taking now to loosen the reigns and allow God to turn my life upside down, yet again. because in all reality, where i am today started with one leap of faith that led me to the life i dreamed about five years ago in my apartment in kansas.

who would have thought it would all come true? heh. more shocking ... who would have thought i'd be scared to step into the life of my dreams after so many years of wishing they'd come true? i guess it's time to start a new list ...

secret to making new friends ...

have a common interest.

i've been trying to become friends with certain people my entire life. you know, the 'untouchables.' i don't know if i liked the challenge or was just trying to validate my own existence by begging people into adding me to their buddy list. either way, it's obvious why i failed ... over and over again.

i never really had anything in common with those people. other than perhaps, that we went to the same school. or church. or had a class together (in elementary school). and i find myself running into a similar problem as a grown adult.

but here's what i had the privilege of observing this weekend at a campsite nestled perfectly in the middle of a pine-tree infested mountainside:

our camping friends like to go bouldering. if you don't know what that means, it's ok. neither did i. it means you climb a boulder ... with your bare hands. pretty incredible once you realize how difficult it actually is. anyway, they had stumbled upon a boulder that seemed to be all the rave with the other 'boulder climbing' folk. we had been there alone for a while, but then a few more people started to make there way to this lone rock. before i know it, they were exchanging stories, discovering common connections and experiences, laughing and cheering each other on as they worked together to conquer this giant rock. they had their own language. their own way of identifying with each other as fellow climbers.

they seemed to all be members of the same tribe without having ever met each other.

i used to see it with harley riders when i went out with my dad and grandpa on their bikes. there was a hand signal flashed whenever you'd pass another hog owner. i picked it up pretty fast and instantly felt i had been accepted into the tribe-o-riders. i feel it every time i meet someone here in l.a. from kansas (or any neighboring state other than nebraska). i feel it every time i see someone wearing my alma mater's gear. but here's the trick ...

what you have in common actually has to mean something to you ... it has to be a part of who you are ... or else it doesn't last.

when we walked away from the boulder and headed down the dirt road, my friend ryan said, "i hope i can be like that guy some day. he has lived everywhere that i either want to live or have lived, he is totally in shape and has to be like 45 or 50 and such a good climber ... he was so cool."

the guy wouldn't have made such an impression if ryan didn't care as much about adventure sports as he does. he wouldn't have made such an impression if ryan wasn't already on the path to becoming the kind of climber/adventurer/globe trotter that this guy was. and that's perhaps the greatest secret of all: you'll never be something you're not. and when you realize that ... trying to fit in with the boulder-climbing, camping junkies (when really, you just like being outside and eating hobo stew under the stars) becomes less about trying so hard and more about appreciating the ties that bind us ... whatever your poison may be.

[thanks to ruthi, ryan and the oceans for letting us step into your world of adventure. it was so refreshing]

it commences

wedding freak-out mode commenced this afternoon as i read through our venue contract.

i feel like my signature on this document is asking for more than the marriage itself. it's so unwavering. i mean, what if i decide i want to have the wedding elsewhere in 5 months (which can't really happen because nothing is as cheap as this and we all know i'm a tight wad). nonetheless, there is something about the never getting my deposit back that really makes me nervous.

i don't like that something could happen to the venue and i wouldn't be able to get my money back. i don't like that i can't control the conditions surrounding one of the most important days of my life.

i don't like not being in control. period. there ... i said it.

and this contract is just another reminder that i can't control everything. that i need to learn how to roll with the punches. and that sometimes trying too hard to be in control gets in the way of the things that really matter.

you know, like being with the people who love vince and i as we commit our lives to one another ... for as long as we live. little things like that.

by the way ... you tell me if i should be freaking out with a future husband as adorable as this and a venue as glorious as the one below. [virtual slaps welcome]

phases

this is simply a continuation of the conversation i've been having on this blog for months. all the question i've been mulling over regarding spirituality, expectations, where my life is headed, growing up, etc ... are starting to boil down to a few things.

1. who am i ... really?
2. what was i created to do?
3. where do i go from here to create the life i was made for?

vince and i were invited to be a part of a leadership experience at mosaic for the next 7 weeks. last night was our first 'experience' at it left me dumbfounded. i'm still reeling from a few questions that were posed last night in our leadership discussion:

when was the moment when you realized, "if i don't do it ... no one else will?" where you said, "i HAVE to do this."

uh.

i thought about that for a while, hoping i didn't have to speak first in my group. and by the time it was my turn, i still didn't really have an answer ... so i kind-of picked the first thing that came to my mind. actually, that's a lie. i picked the second thing that came to my mind ... because the first thing was in the context of the church leadership, and i thought that would come across as a typical 'Sunday School' answer.

but if i'm honest. the last time i really felt like i was supposed to do something ... the last time i thought, "i HAVE to do this" was when i was en route to L.A. since then, i've been hopping from one project to the next trying to find my place.

we busted out the Bible last night (been a while since i've done that) and some really cool things came out that made me look at my 'leadership funk' in a new way. we talked about how the scriptures assume we have zeal, it just wants to make sure we're informed ... moving forward with knowledge ... channeling our passion appropriately. one comment hank made was, "if i blaze my sword, i better know what i'm swinging at and why."

that stuck with me.

because i'm really good at blazing my sword in hopes of hitting ANYTHING worth fighting for. and let me tell you ... i've found a lot of things worth fighting for since i came to l.a. ... but nothing that i'm willing to do on my own. which brings me to the final point from last night that has been ringing in my brain for nearly 24 hours:

people only follow people they know will do it without them.

so, for now, i'm trying to get back to the basics (per usual). i'm trying to remember the moments when people believed in me (whether it was just this weekend during a conversation with my incredible fiance or 20 years ago at church camp) ... because those moments will inevitably direct me towards that thing that i just can't walk away from.

in the meantime, there are a handful of people in my life who need to know that they are capable of greatness. and i think, for now, it's my job to make sure they know that. who knows, i may be the only person that will ever tell them.