i'm coming to realize that when people don't feel like they are doing something that matters ... nothing matters.

My past has been taunting me lately.

When I made the decision to move to L.A., I died to the idea of ever being the same again. I knew that when I moved, my life would be changed forever. What I didn't take into consideration, was that the things I had once prematurely dreamed of, would have to be recreated and made new in its own time.

This time of year is a perfect opportunity for nostalgia to get the best of me.

I start thinking of home and the comfort of family. And that turns into thoughts of how scattered and lonely L.A. can be and before you know it, I'm tearing up wishing I could just be in the familiar again.

I didn't take into consideration that starting new relationships would mean that they start from this point on, excluding the 23 years of history prior to the move. I failed to consider what it would be like to look for a home in L.A., get married in L.A., have a family in L.A. when my family is 1600 miles away. What does it look like now to start building memories with my new friends and my new family that have no connection to my friends and family back home?

I'm learning that, when my past seems to be more present in my mind than reality, it doesn't mean I wish I were somewhere else. It just means I'm learning how to function in a life I feel called to without forgetting where I've been.

So, for those of you who are here with me every day, thanks for your patience as I try to see life in a different way.

For those of you who are back in Kansas ... you've left a mark on my soul that will never be erased, so don't think that I've forgotten you!

Here's to another paradigm shift AND to realizing who my tribe really is.

My Thanksgiving was different this year.

It was my first major holiday away from Kansas and all of my relatives and most certainly the first holiday that I've spent watching the sun set over the Pacific ocean while eating turkey and stuffing in 70 degree weather.



Yeah. No need to feel sorry for me.

But I learned something really important this year (which is probably why it has taken me so long to write).

I have a difficult time understanding that people actually love me and that not everyone is out to get me. It's much easier for me to be upset or aggravated all the time. It gives me a reason to fight harder (as if that's actually doing anyone any good because I end up fighting people instead of fighting for people).

I digress.

But do you know what's worse? I'm afraid that if people get to know the real me, the me that longs for romance and love and adventure and to belong, that they will see me as weak (which, as some of you know, is so NOT the image I try so desperately to portray). If they don't see me as tough and independent and capable of taking on the most difficult of tasks, how will I ever reach my goal of running a company ... of changing people's lives ... of ...

The truth: I don't have it all together (I can't believe I posted that on the web). And I could use a little help from people that love me every once in a while (ack again) ... knowing that that doesn't make me a failure ... it makes me human.

For that I'm thankful.

It's good to know that the goodness of Thanksgiving lasted longer than my turkey coma this year.

ever since i booked my flight back home for christmas, i've been craving a little midwest time.

i miss my family and my friends. i miss the quietness of winter evenings, the open space and the crisp air.

but there is another element that is becoming more difficult as i continue to build my life in california. i want the people from my past to be able to interact with my life here.

well, i got that opportunity this weekend. two of my good friends from back home decided to come out for a day (literally) and explore the madness that is now my home. it was nice for them to see what i've built here in the past year and meet the people who mean so much to me. to see my life through their eyes was so refreshing and encouraging. it brought me new hope and motivation. best of all, their love and friendship reminded me that it wouldn't hurt me to be a little more merciful, compassionate and gracious in my relationships.

i'm so thankful that they came and blessed me with a little piece of home. i'm also hoping it pacifies my craving until december :)

both of my worlds came together for a day and it was ... beautiful.

so there's this spot right in front of my house that has been magical for me. it's just past the front gate of my little white picket fence and in the safety of vince's car. with flashers on and cars whizzing by, there is always a quiet moment before i turn to step out onto the sidewalk. and then ...

words come out of his mouth that i never thought i would hear anyone say to me. words that describe the person i feel that i am but that is so often misunderstood. words that cause me to stop breathing ... to sit speechless.

a good friend once told me, a long time ago, that there would come a day when someone would be able to see everything about me that no one else could. they would be able to describe the person that burns beneath the harsh exterior, begging to be heard and understood.

i didn't believe her.

but this has become one of my favorite places in the world.

i was reading an article today and came across this:

define critical thinking
"the ability to go beyond what you know without falling apart emotionally."

hmm ...

i had the great honor of celebrating the life of a good friend ... one of my first friends in fact ... on sunday evening. when i got to her apartment, i was greeted by familiar faces from a time when everything was still so new to me. as we sat around and caught up on life, i recounted the connections that have brought me to where i am.

let's start from sunday evening at the mayan:
- i found my closest friend at her ministry table to give her a hug before the service started. i met her through one of my best friends back home and was connected with her when i came to l.a. to interview. she was the first person i met out here.
- she had introduced me to dee, whose party i went to after the mayan.
- i sat next to a guy in church that i met the very first time i came to l.a. we have a mutual friend from wichita that was staying with him when i came to visit and it was in his studio in downtown l.a. nearly 5 years ago that i said i would never live in this "disgusting city." ha! now he and i see each other a few times a month ... in the city i swore to never live in.
- i met the love of my life after being connected with sarah, who i was connected to through her boyfriend who is good friends with the same individual that connected me to my closest friend in l.a.
- at the party, i caught up with a couple that i met at dee's in january. they had just moved here from ... kansas. yep. when they asked where i was from i said, "oh, you wouldn't know the town, but it's a suburb of wichita. do you know where wichita is?"
D: "yes! what suburb?"
me: "derby. you probably haven't heard of it. it's south of the city."
D (looking at his wife): "we just moved here this week from derby."
me: "shut up! "
we're now good friends and had a great time sunday sharing how far this journey has brought us to healing and joy.

all i know is that this weekend reminded me that i was created to live an original life. a life that can't be formed out of ordinary paths and formulas. and i am reminded by these connections that i'm on the right path ... my own unique path to finding the truest of myself.

i'm afraid of losing something i never had.

i really don't like it when things don't go my way. i'm sure that quality will come in handy one day if i want to be the world's most successful and most hated CEO (which is something i suppose i could aspire to when this whole character development thing gets too difficult).

i suppose it's because i spend so much time dreaming of all the different (ideal) outcomes for a given situation. i mean, really, it completely sucks when you've got the movie-esque plan in your mind and someone wakes you up and makes you face reality. I WASN'T FINISHED DREAMING!! it takes everything i have not to poke that person in the eye (ok, that's weird, but could you imagine if that's how someone retaliated? ha!).

the point is ... i consider myself a closet romantic. i'm the most realistic, serious and over-analytic person i know. but when i dream ... i dream big. and the thought of them not coming true ... not even a little ... crushes even the strongest strands of hope i have that tells me that my dreams actually matter to Someone. (which also means i'm way more weak than i'd like to admit)

i'm realizing that my initial reaction to not getting my way (you know, the throwing a fit part) is usually anger followed by quick decision to run away as fast as possible (as if i really want to run to people who are going to let me get my way ALL the time ... boring).

but now, there's something telling me to wait. to wait long enough for the anger to turn into pain and for the pain to speak of a lie i believed so long ago.

it's interesting to think that a little change of plans could cause such an internal eruption of emotions. but how nice to know that i don't need to poke out anyone's eye ... because really, this battle has nothing to do with them after all.

Just two days ago, I was taking a scenic trip with Vince to Santa Barbara and back. We drove through Malibu and all the way back down to Orange County.

Today, I'm sitting in my hotel room in Toronto, fielding phone calls from co-workers who are packing up their belongings back home due to the voluntary evacuation announcement in their neighborhood because of the raging fires quickly approaching. I even have colleagues here at this conference who are trying to figure out how to get their families to safety from thousands of miles away.

I just missed the chaos by a day.

My life back home is surrounded by smoke and flames and I can't do anything about it.

I'm not sure which is worse ... a tornado or wild fires.

here's what i'm realizing.

people change.

people change a lot.

and my hope is that, as i continue to develop into the person i was created to be, i would be surrounded by people who desire, not to keep me in a box or categorize me according to my works, but to nurture and support my development. people who know we were created to do something unique ... something that has never been done before and understand that it's hard to move forward without a set mold for success.

i'm so glad i have those people. so so glad.

well, i did it folks.

i finished my first quarter of grad school. :)

i will never be able to make a decision again without considering ethical/moral obligations, nor will i be able to create my own business without considering the servant leader model.

the good news is ... i was able to finish my research papers AND catch up responsibilities at work just in time for a weekend get-away with vince to NYC. here are a few of my favorite photos from the weekend:

i haven't posted anything for a while and i have a few excuses:

1. grad school has completely consumed every ounce of my brain activity, thus making it impossible to produce anything coherent in the past two weeks unless it pertains to business ethics or servant leadership.

2. i don't feel i have much to contribute in terms of entertainment, wisdom or information, so blog topics seem a bit scarce.

3. my free time has been limited ... very limited ... which brings me to my main point i suppose.

this week has been full of realizations. the most life-changing ... i need to slow down. i know that some of you may think that i'm a complete whimp but here's the deal ... i'm taking two graduate school classes per quarter, working a full time job that demands much of my thought life and energy, am spending 13 hours each Sunday at Mosaic serving in multiple capacities and have brilliant friends and an incredible boyfriend whom i try and make time for when i can on friday and saturday evenings.

my problem: i'm doing so much that i've forgotten why i'm doing them. i'm passionate about all of the things that i give myself to, no one would argue that. but there is a fine line that i always seem to walk that takes me from leadership to robot.

i care about people. i know it may be hard to believe, but i really do. i hear what they have to say, i experience life with them and then i do what i can to create space for them to experience something extraordinary ... something that they can be a part of that will point them to who they were made to become.

but when i'm this busy ... i forget what i'm fighting for because i don't have the capacity to engage in the communities in which i'm a part of. and to be honest, i'm not even an effective leader anymore because that would mean that i'm meeting the needs of those around me and i don't have even have time to have a brief conversation, let alone go on a journey with them.

and that's a problem.

so i'm minimizing as much as i can.

i'm understanding that it makes no sense for me to try and do everything because at some point, i'll have nothing of substance to give. for once, i'm not satisfied with a full schedule.

because at the end of the day, i want to be certain that the people in my life know that i care about them. they have to know that i care more about them than i do leading them.

Much has changed since I moved to California.

For instance, as I got in my car this morning to go to work, I realized I needed to pick up my laundry from the laundromat. No, not my dry cleaning. My laundry. Meaning, I have actually resorted to dropping off baskets of clothes for them to wash and fold so that all I have to do is come by the next morning and pick them up.

I would never have done this back home. EVER.

My parents are coming in town this evening and I can't help but think of how different my life is since I left Kansas a little over a year ago. Most of it is change for the better. I feel like my future is wide open with possibilities that I've never considered before. My days are filled with sun, new friends and sounds of the ocean. But there are things that I miss like ... simplicity, open roads, rain, family, the comfort of my past.

I pray that, in letting go, I'm allowing myself room to become someone that I've always longed to become. My fear, however, is that I could be letting go of the very things that have made me who I am ... and the very things that people around me need.

For now, I'm ok with replacing my former chores with a bit more time in the evenings. Thanks 4th street Laundromat for helping me become a better person :)

Fridays. Fall. Frolicking (hey, it was an F word ... it could have been worse).

It's the one morning I treat myself to the delicious aroma of Starbucks. Much to my delight, my friendly baristas greeted me with a familiar smile AND the sweet return of the Pumpkin Spice Latte.

I don't remember getting this excited last fall about the tasty orange beverage in my tall, environmentally conscious, cup. Perhaps it was because it was my first non-fall in California and I refused to play along with the allusion that the weather was changing. OR it could have been the obvious burn out from having spent my entire fall and winter devoted to making these tasty treats for our loyal guests.

Nevertheless, this Friday marks my first morning of crisp air, scents of spice and a hint of anticipation that ushers in ... fall.

Don't worry, I'm not delusional enough to think that our "cold front" of 65-70 degrees is an invitation to bust out the scarves and stocking caps (although my fellow Californians think otherwise).

Instead, I will retreat for a weekend in October to a little place called New York City ... all thanks to my incredibly intuitive boyfriend who picked up on my obsession with fall and my sadness that it doesn't truly exist here.

Autumn in New York? I'm in. Until then ... my cooler nights and spiced lattes will have to do!

Oh, and even though it doesn't fit with my earlier theme ... I heart NYC. ;)

i had a meeting last saturday.

on a roof. in downtown l.a.

this marked the beginning of many conversations that ...

will undoubtedly change the world.

it occurs when someone you love sees the same reflection in the mirror, but stands next to you anyway ... fighting for the person that lives beyond the surface.

mir·ror :: /ˈmɪrər/[mir-er]
1. to mimic or imitate (something) accurately
2. to be or give a faithful representation, image, or idea of

I looked in the mirror this morning and was completely disgusted with the reflection. My body ached of disappointment and my face was a reminder of the person I am just below the surface.

I realized this morning how incredibly selfish I am. My uncanny ability to think that I'm entitled to certain things or that I can do something but judge others when they do it is sickening. Am I the only on that's that shallow?

Worse than that, I woke up knowing that there are people around me who love me unconditionally, even when I choose myself over them.

I missed an opportunity last night to be a person of integrity and intentionality. I let uncontrollable obstacles ruin my evening and consciously made the decision to focus on the fact that I didn't get my way, despite the way it made those around me feel.

This selfishness runs deep. Far deeper than what my mirror will ever reflect. There has to be a way out ...

9.11

I miss the patriotism. The passion. The purpose we all felt in rebuilding our communities.

We became rebels in our own land that day.

As rebels, we fought so hard to stick it to the man and move towards domination of the things that robbed us of our values. We were very aware of what we were fighting against. But there came a point when the line became blurred and we forget what we were actually for.

I remember the days after 9-11-01. I was surrounded by people who were certain that what they were for was justice, freedom, community and an unbridled patriotism. Now, six years later, those same people are no longer petitioning congress, inviting neighbors over for a summer BBQ or proudly flying their American flags.

Today, I'm at the same cross roads. In my passionate pursuit to change all the things I hate in the world, I've forgotten what my motivation was. And worse ... what I'm fighting for ...

Today I remember the death of a friend who fought for a better future on the battlefields of Iraq.

And today, I begin asking myself ... for what am I willing to lay down my life?

Messenger: Who does this woman think she is that she can speak among men?
Queen Gorgo: Because only Spartan women give birth to real men.
Spartan King Leonidas: You come to my city bearing the skulls of conquered kings, you insult my queen, you threaten my people with slavery and death! Oh, I've chosen my words carefully Persian. Perhaps you should have done the same.

The King fights for his queen and knows she is a crucial part of his epic tale. He can't do it without her and she is empowered to engage in battle. She's strong, courageous and captivating.

The perfect example of the question I've been asking myself for years:
If men would be gentlemen, would women be ladies?

I think they would. And when they do ... they'll know this one is different.

I just started grad school last week and my first class is covering business ethics.

It's warping my brain and I often feel the need to stare at blank walls for minutes at a time just to keep my head from exploding.

That said ... I thought I'd pose a question.

What are your top 10 values?

Can you even think of 10? If so, how many of them do you feel are universal and how many of them were formed based on the environment you were raised or currently living within?

I'll be honest. It was really difficult for me to come up with a list of 10 values on the spot. We began to discuss the differing lists within in our classroom and I realized how close minded I had been for so long.

Then it hit me ...

How many times have I asked someone to compromise their values because I wasn't aware that they may have a different top 10 than I? And similarly, how many times have I compromised my own values because I didn't have a clear understanding of what I stood for?

Ugh. I knew I shouldn't have signed up for this. The last thing I needed was more to think about :)

loy·al·ty (loi'əl-tē)

1. A feeling or attitude of devoted attachment and affection.
2. Feelings of allegiance.

This ...



is the antithesis of loyalty.

I was sitting in Starbucks last week on Sunset/La Brea and I noticed a sleeve sitting on my table from Coffee Bean.

I have to say, I was a little offended. I mean, Starbucks customers are adamant about consuming the luxuries of the Bucks beans. Besides, the legendary service is unbeatable! HOWEVER, someone made it into my 3rd place without a care in the world about the grande experience they were paying $4.32 for.

How is it that we won them over enough to get them to pay too much for a common product, yet we couldn't capture their hearts enough to keep them from seeing us as a sloppy second?

I know we can't make everyone a fanatic of our products. But wouldn't it be nice to know that, even in the most superficial/image driven place on earth, we could at least sell an idea that was constant?

I realized something that day. I don't want to be around people who just want a refill ...

:)
(note: don't take this one too seriously)

I'll post something more interesting later, but right now something is irritating me.

For those of you that don't live in California with me, you should know that my life has been like a movie lately. The kind of movie I like ... with the independent starlet who finds romance in the big city and finds herself whisked away on spontaneous adventures and recapping the madness with her close girlfriends over weekend brunches.

Some call them chick flicks. I call them goodness.

Here's the problem. Some of the people I share life with don't want to hear about the unexpected turn of events in my life. Instead, they refer me to others who have the same lot.

Why is it that when something good happens to someone, we can't share the excitement with them? Why is it that we seem to be more interested in sharing life with people who are less fortunate (or at least equally as unfortunate)? I know it makes us feel better about ourselves, but geez. Throw me a freaking bone.

I didn't plan this for myself. There is no way I could have dreamed this life up for myself. And I'm grateful. I'm grateful that God is so intentional about pursuing me even though I had already committed to my own plans (with or without Him).

To not be able to have conversations about what He's doing in my life because it makes you uncomfortable, puts me in a position where I don't feel like I deserve it until Hope comes to you in the way you're hoping it will.

It's not about me. It's not about you. It's about the conversation that God is having with us. I'm trying to process what He's saying and I wish I could have the ears of those closest to me. Perhaps we'll be able to talk again when there is an understanding that He's pursuing you just as passionately.

If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy,
I can only conclude that I was not made for here
If the flesh that i fight is at best only light and momentary,
Then of course I'll feel nude when to where I'm destined I'm compared

Speak to me in the light of the dawn
Mercy comes with the morning
I will sigh and with all creation groan as I wait for hope to come for me

Am I lost or just found? On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way?
Is this a soul that stirs in me, is it breaking free, wanting to come alive?
Cos my comfort would prefer for me to be numb
An avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become

For we, we are not long here
Our time is but a breath, so we better breathe it
And I, I was made to live, I was made to love, I was made to know you

Hope is coming for me
Hope, He's coming

Thanks to Brooke Fraser for putting into words the conversation that is occurring in my soul.

I've been processing a lot lately. In fact, I haven't posted an entry because my head is experiencing a sensory overload and only fragments of sentence structures are being produced.

Today, however, I have something to say. Something that has come about after weeks of internal conflict and absolute torture. So here goes ... the question I'm not even sure I'm ready to answer quite yet ...

If I took away everything that defines me (my leadership roles, my job, my music, my accolades), would what's left be enough?

Even more terrifying than perhaps the answer that I'm leaning towards ... Do I believe that others would be drawn to me, love me or invests their time in me if all that existed was the remainder? The heart. The soul. Just me.

I was on my back patio this morning with my bowl of fruit, marveling at my little plants and trying to figure out how I am going to hang my new patio lights, when I remembered how my summer mornings used to be.

We would stay the night at grandma and grandpas and wake up super early, go to the local donut shop, bring them back with our chocolate milk and sit on the gazebo outside. The birds would be chirping, the breeze would be just right and Tanner and I would be laughing, undoubtedly, at a joke grandpa just made. Grandma would be watering the plants around us and asking us what adventure we wanted to go on that afternoon.

I loved those mornings.

Since I moved to California, there have been many days when those memories come to mind. Some days, I go to the donut shop a few blocks down and bring them back and sit outside. Other days, I'm content with a healthier food choice, my MacBook and a nice cup of coffee.

What are your favorite summer memories?

Tonight is my night.

I'm alone.

Finally.

After weeks of social interaction and incredible moments with some of my favorite people, I can finally ... relax. It's not easy for me to just sit back and give myself room to breathe. I like breathing and all, but sometimes when I stop for too long, I begin to hear things that scare me ... things that I've been trying to ignore and drown out with the noise of my life. (usually things like, "leave everything you know and move to california," "let people take care of you," etc.)

I've been in this place before. Many times. When I've been running for long enough that God finally throws road blocks too thick for me to dance around.

A year ago, I found myself in a car with my grandparents, arriving at my new home in Southern California. The adventure and pure exhilaration of trying something new was enough to last me through an entire year of self-discovery and transitioning. Now, in this place I call home, I am being beckoned to embark on another journey of equal risk and greater faith. One that requires I find what I'm made of at the core.

So, a year later (after leaving Oz), I'm much closer to being the person I always felt I could be. I'm happy. Energized. Passionate. Daring. Compassionate. Strong. Independent. I've surrounded myself with people who show me what life looks like through different eyes. And, as of late, I've become very aware of the fears I need to conquer.

This year has been breathtaking.

I relax willingly tonight after a year well spent ...

livin.the.dream.

can you believe it? i'm celebrating my one year anniversary in l.a. tomorrow.

for those who are here in l.a. with me, i apologize for making this week a blatant celebration of the massive leap of faith i took last year. and i thank you for humoring me and celebrating with me :)

to my fabulous friends who took me to Wicked last night ... you're the best! for those of you coming to waffle night tomorrow after the Mayan ... get ready for the time of your life (or at least week)!

as for tomorrow, i'll be doing what i love most.

Fried food. Crazy people. Screaming kids. Bad talent. 4H. Over-sized veggies. Cows. Pigs. Sunflowers. And Korey. Best combination ever!

In a crowded little bar off Sunset Blvd that we call Hotel Cafe, I heard the voice of the talented Brooke Fraser.

For those of you who don't know her ... you should. She's incredible.

I waited weeks for this moment to see her perform and be in a room full of people who needed to hear her words of hope just as much as I did.

As she stepped onto the little stage, I realized I would be spending the rest of the evening in an increasingly unidealistic situation. Everyone in front of me was no less than six feet tall. There was no way I would get to see her facial expressions or gestures to the band ... nothing. Oh and it was ridiculously hot ... so I was sweating which never makes for a happy time.

Anyway, as I was trying to take in as much of her music as I could, my friend taps me on the shoulder and points to the wall. A line of decorative mirrors adorned the wall close to the ceiling.

I could see everything.

I've spent so much of my time trying to look over the heads of people who are much taller than I and when I couldn't push through them to be a part of the moment, I settled for the backs of their heads and a lukewarm bottle of water.

That's the obvious route. The obvious solution is to suck it up in moments where it's simply inappropriate to push your way to the front. I mean, everyone else had waited just as long, paid the same amount of money and were sweating just as much.

But everyone in that room deserved to be a part of the moment. Everyone needed to hear what she had to say. Everyone needed to see the sincerity on her face and the passion in her eyes.

But only one was desperate enough to make sure those of us without a view could be a part of what was happening. She refused to believe that there was only one way to experience this moment.

Last night was full of reflective moments ... ha. Some, however, more blatant than others.

A mere two posts ago, I raved about this city named L.A. Oh, the energy it brings and the life it feeds to my soul.

A week later, I was in the same city, in the same coffee shop, cursing the madness around me for wreaking such havoc on my brain.

How is it that something I find so much joy in, can actually be my demise when I indulge too much? Is it true that you can have too much of a good thing? Is it best to approach everything in moderation with the understanding that there is potential for an overdose that may leave me lifeless and craving a dark hole?

I'm realizing the importance of boundaries and setting time for myself. Alone.

That said, I will be in Hollywood three times this week :) Hey, there's no way I'm missing Brooke Fraser tonight at the Hotel Cafe, nor would I miss another week at The Woods and seeing Wicked at the Pantages. Don't worry, I left Tuesday and Thursday to Orange County ... the O.C. fair is in full swing and I need a funnel cake :)

Maybe next week I'll settle down.

Typical scenario:

Krysta engages in conversation with ridiculously talented individuals. Finds herself wanting to immediately partner with them in their vision because she thinks the world needs what they have. Ideas are flying all over the place. Super psycho business woman comes out.

Somehow the conversation shifts to more personal issues (I'm guessing because dreams are so ... personal).

Family. Marriage. Kids. Traditional roles.

Seriously? Ugh. We were having such a great conversation though! :(

In my usual attempt to break the mold and be the girl who has no desire for such things, something happens. A sincere and matter-of-fact voice breaks through:

"Everyone in this room already believes in who you're trying to hide. You don't have to prove anything." Everything goes back to normal. It was a passing thought for others, yet, I fall silent.

Days later ...

Same conversation (why am I a magnet for these discussions?)... marriage, kids, family and my typical response of "it's not for me."

"I don't believe you." (of course you don't, I ponder to myself.Because every woman wants to be a house wife ...)

But no. This is not the individual's pattern of thought.

"You have something to offer. Something the world needs. Why wouldn't you pass that on ... leave your legacy? I typically agree with people when they say they don't want kids. They shouldn't. But not you."

Silence. Squirming. Sobering.

Now, this is what happens when you believe for so long that the way to break certain stereotypes or prove yourself is to do the opposite of the obvious. It's also what happens when you're hoping that what you want to believe about yourself is what others see in you. And then ... you meet people who wish you'd just believe in yourself as much as they believe in you.

Don't get me wrong, it's inherent to who I am to rock the boat ... create a little controversy. I'm completely sincere in my goals to move forward as a more career-driven than family-oriented individual.

But knowing that I have people around me that don't keep me in the same box I try to keep myself in, is terrifying and liberating.

For those of you who know me well: don't worry, I'm still going to change the world (or at least try). But maybe someday, so will my family.

Yesterday will go down as one of my favorite days in L.A.

1. I got to stay with Alice the night before after our weekly outing in Hollywood so that I wouldn't have to fight traffic in the morning.


2. I spent some time waiting in line at the Chinese consulate for our EMBAs. The experience was actually quite rewarding. Here I was in the middle of L.A. and I had people look at me and move on to the next person in order to ask a question because I was the only one that didn't speak their language. Interesting really. How did they know I didn't speak (fill in the blank)? Is it that obvious?

3. Instead of driving all the way back to my office, I spent the afternoon downtown. I sat for a few hours and worked at the public library. I sat at a Starbucks that was nestled in the shadows of all the skyscrapers with the rest of the business professionals. And the best part ... they spelled my name right on my drink!!


4. I even managed to come across a bit of nature in the midst of the invigorating chaos of the big city.


I'm telling you. Yesterday was just one of those days that reminded me why I decided to move to a city that already had 11 million people. I felt completely alive and rejuvinated and was, consequently, more productive than most days I spend in my office.

I wonder what would happen if everyone were able to choose the environment they were most alive and work remotely from that spot.

I'm breeching insanity.

I have way too many ideas about how to move the organization I work for to the next level.

And my job is to catalyze those opportunities strategically.

I also have way too many options for causes in which to devote my spare time to at Mosaic ... areas that I'm currently passionate about because it all seems to fit into my vague vision for mobilizing leaders.

So what's a girl to do when all she needs to do is pick something and start moving forward, but she's afraid to pick something for fear that there is something more exciting looming on the horizon?

Have I written about this before? Do I really have this big of a commitment problem? How am I supposed to pave the way when I'm not patient enough to stick with one idea for longer than a few months ... weeks ... days?

I know something needs to be done. But what? What will I choose?

Ha. Maybe the question is ...

What will choose me?

Three years ago, in an auditorium with 8,000 other leaders, I heard Erwin McManus speak for the first time.

His words changed my life.

"Most of our lives are boring God to death. A hero is waiting to be awaken inside all of us and if you think you're talented enough, good enough ... you're not living out a big enough dream."

Finally. Something that resonated with who I was at the core. Finally my thoughts had been articulated in a way that I could never before explain to those around me.

Two years after that conference, I made the decision to move to L.A. to be a part the community that I had learned so much from.

Just this weekend, three years later, I was the worship leader for one of their morning gatherings. Even more paralleling, I had the opportunity to be the stage manager at our down town location - queing Erwin to enter the stage and breathe the same words I had heard in that auditorium in 2004.

It seemed my life had come full circle.

Miraculously interwoven into a moment that was far too large for me.

I met God this weekend in a very real way. As I stepped on stage, three moments flashed through my mind: The moment as I lay face down in my apartment in Wichita when I decided I wasn't going to stay where I was; the moment as I lay face down in my house in Long Beach when I declared I wasn't going back; and that very moment when I saw that, in my desperation, my decisions to move forward had brought me to a place that I couldn't have dreamed ... even for myself.

"Sometimes greatness is thrust upon us. When you follow Christ, He takes you to places that are too big for you. "

When I visited Mosaic a year ago for the first time (before I moved to L.A.), the band at played a song that I ended up doing back home later that week. It was, consequently, the last time I led worship in my home church.

This past Sunday as I stood back stage, my 13-hour day ended with the same song: In the roar of Your waterfall/In the storm of You/May You find me holding on/May You find me true/And I put my hope/And I put my trust/And I put myself in You/In You, Lord.

May this life continue to be an adventure full of moments that awaken the hero inside all of us.

It's my first Independence Day in California and I can't help but feel a bit cynical.

I'm in my favorite cafe in Long Beach, taking time to actually write in my journal, read and people watch. The word independence keeps buzzing through my mind. I can't shake it. So I get on my trusty BlackBerry and dictionary.com it.

in·de·pen·dence [in-di-pen-duhns]
1. freedom from the control, influence, support, aid, or the like, of others.

Really? America?

Then I keep thinking: "Bring me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses." What is that from? Statue of Liberty right?

I'm not sure America truly echoes this invitation as Lady Liberty does. I mean, it was a gift from the French so we probably couldn't take that phrase off of her giant tablet, but seriously people.

I'm sure we wanted to believe we could house the world's oppressed, until we realized our social reform programs were no incentive for them to contribute to the net gross product.

I wonder if ever there was a point when the heart of America beat for those that wanted a chance to dream? Were these words representative of the desires of our founding countrymen or merely token phrases to make ourselves feel better about who we are?

To dream.

It's a luxury I often, ignorantly, believe is at the forefront of the human imagination. And then I remember my friends across the world who find this day of no significance. Those who, perhaps have never had a dream of becoming an astronaut or rock star. Those who, instead of dreaming, are merely trying to survive.

Where dreaming is for kings and queens.

I sit today feeling a bit bitter sweet to be celebrating a right to question the motives and policies of the nation that gives me the freedom to dream.

I joined thousands of others, who have come from all parts of the world in hopes of a better life, to watch fireworks and I wonder ...

How free are we ... really?

For all of you who work for a church, are married to someone who works for a church or have volunteered in any kind of ministry ... you need to visit this site.

Anne Jackson (the beautiful author and visionary behind this project) is hoping to have 5,000 people take surveys between July 2 and August 3. Your input will contribute to current statistics about those in ministry. Oh, and it's completely confidential and secure and it only took me about 5 minutes to complete.

Thanks everyone!

Letting go of things that once seemed essential ...

"What happens as you grow and mature is that there are key moments where, as individuals, we realize that the things we thought were essential are not and we have to let go of it. It was handed to us, it was taught to us, we picked it up along the way and then we realized it's not the core. Central to forward movement are those moments when we have to recover the essentials that got lost along the way ...

To know where we're going, we HAVE to know where we've been. But it isn't enough for us to go back. How are we going to carry it forward?"

Rob Bell

I'm becoming more and more accepting of the fact that things aren't how they used to be. And that's a good thing. So, while I'm trying to figure out what about my past is helpful to my journey forward, I'm also recovering things that have been lost along the way. Who knows, these burried treasures may just be the key to unlocking a mystery that I was created to discover for this particular time in human history. :)

You gotta wonder why we cling to our expectations. Because the expected is what keeps us ...

Steady.

Standing.

Still.

The expected is just the beginning.

The unexpected is what changes our lives.

-Meridith Grey :: Grey's Anatomy

[what phenomenon changed your life ... or are you still.waiting.?]

Then Richard Florida offered a solution (in "The Rise of the Creative Class") to my queries from the last post:

" The task before us is to build new forms of social cohesion appropriate to the new Creative Age - the old forms don't work, because they no longer fit the people we've become - and from there, to pursue a collective vision of a better and more prosperous future for all.

This is easier said than done. To build true social cohesion, the members of the Creative Class will need to offer those in other classes a tangible vision of ways to improve their own lives, either by becoming part of the Creative Economy or, at the very least, by reaping some of its rewards. If the Creative Class does not commit itself to this effort, the growing social and economic divides in our society will only worsen, and I fear that we will find ourselves living perpetually uneasy lives at the top of an unhappy heap.

It's time for the Creative Class to grow up and take responsibility. But first, we must understand who we are."

It's amazing how many times in the past few months I've heard people rave about Austin, Texas.

I started wonder what the sudden buzz was about. How is it that so many people can be such fanatics about a place they've only visited? On the contrary, how is it that so many people can uproot and relocate to this place just because they hear about the vibe? And then I wondered ...

What happens when people start to catch on that a particular environment welcomes, cultivates and nurtures the uniqueness of an individual or people group?

The rise of a culture begins.

Austin is known for its ability to tap into the creative energy of its people. It welcomes all types and provides opportunities for the traditional "outsiders" to offer their unique solutions to existing issues.

Is it wrong for those of us who crave innovation and demand the space for creativity to flock to these places? Or should we stay in our current environments and hope that our authenticity will generate interest and eventually form an organic subculture within an un-accepting or misunderstanding macro-culture?

Then my thought was this: What if all the people from one group only stayed in select cities across the world? Would it just be expected that those from surrounding lands would gravitate if they resonated with this idealism? And if it were expected, what good are these hubs if the only people experiencing this culture are those who are there?

Is it that, maybe, just maybe, this new group is singlehandedly creating space for people to just be themselves? To live out their creative potential? And in the meantime stopping in places like Austin after having ran for years from the doubtful mindsets of the majority?

Perhaps my questions lead to ... where do we draw the line? Is it possible to ever really have a middle ground, where creativity can flourish amidst opposition and conservative infrastructures and someday be understood and appreciated?

I began reading "The Rise of the Creative Class" this weekend. You may imagine that most of my conversations in the past few days were centered around these new ideologies of what cultivates a creative culture.

As a group of friends and I were enjoying iced coffee at Starbucks, conversation went in the direction of differing cultures and the social implications that follow. From the American perspective to a New Zealand perspective. From an Irish to an Australian's view. Then to a collective sigh as we agreed that, either way, it's a Western thought process ... privileged with an opportunity to dream (unlike many of our Eastern neighbors).

Hmmm. Pretty deep for an afternoon break at the Bucks. But I have to admit it was even more quenching than my tasty beverage.

The conversation continued to morph into a spastic exchange of stories of an emerging class of creatives that are bringing innovation to all ends of the earth. After a few minutes of excitement and lessons in history, my ability to understand the information dwindled. And then I realized something incredible. I was having coffee with four individuals, who are my age, from different countries.

Although their dialect became more difficult to understand as the conversation became more intense, I knew we were all speaking the same language.

We all have a story. We've traveled far and wide to be a part of the synergy taking place in L.A. And we all have a vision to contribute something unique to make the world better ... one nation at a time.

Did I mention how much I love L.A.?

"Common goals create community."

When I heard Eric Bryant say this last week at Mosaic, I knew I finally had the missing link to make this blog entry happen.

A few months ago, I had the privilege to spend time with some good friends from college here in Southern California. As we were sitting at the dinner table, I began to make a trail in my mind of my close network of friends and the impact they're making all over the world. From social workers to scholars at Stanford. From NASA and Disney engineers to Equity actresses. From Best Buy GMs to graphic designers. From musicians to business owners to church leaders. From global leaders to architects to strategists to med students to analysts.

My life is filled with people who are in a pursuit to create something new that will bring others hope. That's our common thread.

It's a beautiful thing to watch as each of us flesh this value out in a way that is truly unique to who we are individually.

I know the world will be a better place because of these 20 somethings (and those brave enough to mentor us).

Gratitude goes out to those I'm sharing life with. You inspire me and I will forever be indebted to your accountability and authenticity.

What's the formula for this kind of culture?
1. Authentic Community
2. Shared Vision
3. Complimentary Gifts
4. Common Language and Principles

Question: What culture are you creating? Or what culture do you wish to create?

Once upon a time there were two little girls who dreamed of a far away land.

Through their journeys they met witches and false fortune tellers, even big bad wolves.

Along the way, they met each other. Both with ambition in their eyes and an undeniable passion.

These little girls grew to become women of faith, love and hope for one another. They shared stories, fought each other's dragons and even shared the same dream of that far away land.

:: :: :: ::

In a moment of authentic beauty, the little girl inside of me witnessed the woman I hope to become.

As I frolicked in fields of clovers and watched as Stacy Day danced at sunset with her prince charming in a patch of wild flowers, I remembered the ache for belonging and the craving to feel beautiful that I have ignored. In this moment I was reminded that I am most beautiful when I'm me ... the little girl with big dreams ... hoping for a chance to make it in a far away land.





Photos by: Ali Bagheri (http://flickr.com/photos/helloali/)

to my weekend.
to being a jet setter.
to stealing stealing a designer gown.
to drive-through liquor stores named "Pay and Take it."
to being above the law.
to dancing the night away.
to austin, texas.
to cowboy hats and stilettos.
to being pampered.
to open fields of wild flowers (and chiggers).
to being invited into a beautiful moment.
to new friends.
to rain and fluffy clouds.
to unanswered prayers.
to witnessing the union of two kindred souls.
to finding my clone.
to three hours of sleep four days in a row.
to words of affirmation.
to second chances.
to conversations that change your life.
to living a dream.
to sweat and stage lights.
to melting faces with insane guitar solos.
to hugs and proud friends.
to possibility.
to change.
to laughter at the dinner table.
to brothers who kick butt.
to eight hours of sleep.

There's something about wearing a great hat and stiletto heels that makes me feel so cosmopolitan ... so Sex and the City, if you will. :)

I find myself walking with much more confidence. Little sound bits of my very own soundtrack are playing over in my mind as I walk through Trader Joe's to pick up groceries. I feel so independent and in sync with the world as I walk out with my paper bag full of organic foods and my french loaf sticking out of the top of my bag.

As the breeze rustles the palm trees and the scent of the ocean passes by, I realize that I am much closer to that leading role on the movie screen than ever before. I'm living my own adventure, stepping into a world of possibilities and daring to move without blinking an eye.

What's more exhilarating than anything, is the mystery that comes with the hat and stilettos. I feel as if there is more to come ... more than what meets the eye. It's a part of me that is slowly making its way to the surface with or without the costume. Because of this, however, I am increasingly more attracted to anyone who naturally exudes spontaneity, adventure and a carefree spirit. Ha! Seemingly opposite of my structured and planned out life.

Maybe this hat and these heels are trying to tell me something.

On my flight back to L.A. from Kansas, these lyrics kept running through my mind:

"I want to be more, I want to see more, I want to know more ... more than I know."

I hope I never stop learning, exploring, or venturing out into the unknown.

What did you discover today?

Home also has a way of reminding us of who we are not.

Beginning the process of identifying who I am NOT has become much easier than trying to figure out who I am or hope to become. With each conversation this weekend, I remind myself that I am not who I was when I left this place nearly a year ago. That, I know for sure.

So I'll start there ...

There's no place like home.

I've made it safely to the land of Oz and I'm excited to be reunited with where I came from.

Home has a way of bringing me back to the core of who I am ... at least I'm hoping it still has that effect. Until later ...

re·fresh·ing (rĭ-frěsh'ĭng)
1. pleasantly new or different
2. to give new freshness or brightness to; restore

I had the opportunity to spend time with a few individuals last night that are so comfortable in their own skin that simply being around them brought new life to my bones.

There is just something about these kinds of people that make everyone around them less concerned with touting personal accolades or verbally validating their existence by listing their five year plan (noted appropriately at the end with nothing short of world domination).

I felt like I could be myself. I felt like I could actually say I didn't have all the answers. I felt peaceful. I felt more loving. I felt more real.

We weren't competing to see who was running the fastest or had the most potential (well, I probably was initially). But I realized that when people are happy with who they are, where they are and where they're going, there isn't an aura of competition or concern for self-praise around them. I didn't want to be anywhere else in that moment.

Most importantly, I felt that it was ok to simplify life ... to slow down. To just ... be ... me.

And that's refreshing.

"You put on what people say you are."

It's a mystery to me, really, that we can allow others to condition us to act within the confines of their desired role for us in their lives. The irony is that, more often than not, they categorize us based on something they are unfamiliar with or simply misunderstand.

On the flip-side, it's even more disturbing that we step into the role, thinking that perhaps we are growing as an individual when, in fact, we may just be playing to their insecurities of who we may become if they don't tame us.

Question: Do you ever act a certain way around people because they've told you that's who you are? And worse, leave the conversation feeling like you misrepresented yourself?

"No man really knows about other human beings. The best he can do is to suppose that they are like himself." -John Steinbeck

If this is true (and I believe it is for my life), then there is much work to be done.

character development
relational intelligence
commitment to others
tolerance

Question: How often do you assume that what you hate most about yourself exists in other people? More importantly, what do your relationships look like as a result of not loving yourself completely?

I've been doing some research on the "creative class" and have become increasingly aware of the characteristics that make a city more conducive to creative activity. I've always associated big business, innovation, and my role as a top executive with big city life (like the leading ladies in the movies - new york, l.a., london, paris, etc).

But a friend of mine (who is adamant about staying in Manhattan, Kansas) says, "you don't need a huge city to do huge business ... you just need a couple 30" apple displays ... a sweet computer, fast internet and an awesome apartment."

It makes me wonder. How much of this "big city" mentality is actually invoking change and how much of it is a facade to make us feel like the chaos is a direct effect of our contributions to bringing transformation? I mean, 10 million people in one county can create a lot of noise, but what's actually happening? On the contrary, how much can really happen when the culture is inherently slow ... what does that do to a visionary or a creative?

I'm curious ...

In which environment are you most creative?

I've always been one to rock the boat a little ... ok a lot.

I've also been known to be a bit ambitious, passionate, and at times maybe too aggressive.

But as I was sitting in a hotel room last week ... alone (that was for dramatic effect), I realized how stinkin' exhausted I was. I mean, here I was in the middle of no man's land and 24 years worth of comments started rushing through my brain! How annoying. I picked up the phone and called Cliff in hopes that talking would get my mind off of real issues (which we end up talking about anyway). That's what friends are for right?

He didn't fail me.

With each sob story about how hard it is to survive in this world (envision close camera angle on my face and soap opera music in the background), he gave me a friendly "uh-huh" until I felt I had justified my reason for feeling sorry for myself. And of course I ended each sentence with my usual, "but I'll get over it. just give me a few hours." (putting my hand to my forehead ... naturally)

Then ... he asks, "what are you trying to prove?" (music screeches to a halt)

Geez. Throw me a bone here ... I'm obviously trying to feel sorry for myself, not deconstruct my thought process from the past 24 years.

So I thought about it (ha) And in my mind I actually answered the question automatically: I'm trying to prove that I'm more than what meets the eye. I'm more complicated than the runway model my family wanted me to be, more intelligent than middle school teachers thought and definitely strong enough to stand up to another man who treats me disrespectfully. What ended up coming out was (in lu of my brother's graduation and incredible accolades): I'm trying to prove something to my family, I guess.

"are they even paying attention to you?"

Crap.

No. And why would they? They already have me in their minds where they want me. Anything I do on top of that isn't extra credit. I'm running in 2 billion different directions trying to figure out where I can surprise people ... where I can prove that I'm more than an object.

The fortunate truth is that not everyone sees us like those who have created emotional scars in our lives. In fact the handful of people who actually think that of us, most-likely don't think of us as often as we think of proving them wrong. More importantly, they stopped getting to really know you way back when too.

Not everyone sees us with such a limited perspective and they are waiting patiently on the side-lines for us to get a grip and contribute all our energies into that which we were created for.

(cue upbeat music as girl gets off of hotel bed - waded up tissues falling to the ground)

So this is what I'm aiming for: being intentional about choosing the place where I am most alive and pouring everything I am into it.

I'm not fooling myself (or trying to fool you) that I won't have my hands in more than one project ... Arranger and Achiever are in my top 5 on the Strengths Finder, so the madness isn't going to stop. But the pressure to try and prove myself will hopefully diminish as well as my fear of admitting when things are difficult (no matter how strong I want you to think I am).

Question: How do you stay focused on being you?

Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too well pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.
Disturb us, Lord, when
With the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.
Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wider seas
Where storms will show your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.
We ask You to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push us in the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love.

Sir Francis Drake, 1577

i watched a star twinkle. i watched it explode in the night sky.

among all the stars, it shone the brightest.

i wonder how often i miss the moments where others are exploding with wonder and beauty becaue i'm focused on the entire universe and its complexity. hoping. waiting. expecting to see something at first glance.

is this the reason i continue to hit breaking points where i feel overwhelmed with the vastness of this life and its possibilities?

for those of you who don't know, this is where i live. the thriving metropolis of los angeles, caifornia.



and this is where i'm from (well, at least the parts i appreciate about where i'm from having lived in l.a. for almost a year)



after a very short visit back to the heartland for my brother's graduation, stillness swept over me like the plague. i had no idea how exhausted i was until i hit midwest soil. the sounds and smells calmed me instantly and put me in a meditative state. the silence was almost irritating as my own thoughts made their way to the surface.

there are moments in my journey where i do nothing more than simply survive. where the craziness of big-city life becomes my natural form of interacting with myself and everyone else. i get so caught up in ideas and progression ... in innovation and trailblazing that i forget the importance of focus and committing to those ideas.

i see so many opportunities on the horizon. i see adventure and excitement that i want to be a part of. but i get to these moments where i feel like i'm extremely involved but not really committed to anything. i like to keep my options open. you know, just in case.

but that's starting to wear me out. i want to declare a niche. i want to find my unique way of contributing to the big picture. and stick with it.

going back to the stars. i was caught up in the mystery and brilliance of this little star. the obvious brightness of the moon and jupiter nearly blinded my peripheral vision, but i was drawn to this twinkling mystery. there was something about this star that i wished i could identify with. something about this star that i almost wish was me ... waiting patiently for the chance to step into a moment that will touch someone's soul.

out of all the stars in the universe that night, the twinkling wonder, in its joyous celebration of who it is, made an l.a. girl from kansas remember where she's from and where she's going.

question: what if everyone in the world committed to being agents of change where they are instead of trying to take their ideas all over the world? would more actually get done? because i don't know.

So here's the scene:

Your brother just received his degree in Mechanical Engineering from the University of Kansas with the highest honors while wowing the crowd with his eloquent words as this year's emcee. Imagine the feelings of pride and inspiration you feel as you watch your little brother walk across the stage embracing the top academics in a moment of gratitude for their participation in his accomplishments. You too are feeling fortunate to be a part of this emering leader's life. And then ...





What's your reaction? Your intial gut reaction?

These guys are extremely intelligent. This is a major liberal university in a conservative state. They know their message will create a wake among both the convservative and the liberal populations. It's a lesson in viral marketing for sure as they had everyone engaged and talking about their "brand" instantly.

The focus was immediately taken away from my brother. As I was calming my cousin down (a soldier who just returned from his Iraq tour), I began to understand the reason for his anger. He fought for and lost friends so that these individuals would have the freedom to voice their opinion. And in his mind, they were abusing a priveledge that others had sacrificed on behalf of.

As this was going down, my mom, dad and uncle were surrounding the ring leader, quoting Scripture and engaging in a heated theological debate. My reaction to this side-show sent me into a whirlwind of emotions. I was embarrassed. And then I felt guilty for being embarrassed about the fact that they were standing up for something I used to be so passionate about defending. I then felt certain that this was not the context in which this battle should be fought. I became very aware, within that 30 second internal dialogue, that when we have an agenda to change others, others won't change.

The protestors woke up with an agenda: to ruffle some feathers.
My family approached them with an agenda: to tell them they were wrong – according to Scripture.

Real conversation don't errupt from this kind of exchange (mainly because it's not an exchange).

Worst of all, those who didn't agree with the protestors, but didn't have a reason to "prove" them wrong, were left alone on the outside of the conflict, watching as a war broke out in a place that they were certain was meant for celebration and victory.

The truth is, the world is full of opinions, full of passionate individuals who will fight for just about anything. All the more reason for us to be certain of what we're willing to fight for at a moment where you may have influence on what others care about.

I'm curious:
How are you contributing to the growth of future generations?
What do people hear you saying?
Who are you influencing?
Do you create opportunities where even your "enemies" are open to conversations with you?

well ... ?

I've hit some sort of milestone.

I paid someone to come clean my house.

Yes.

This either means I realize that I can't do everything in the minimal 24 hours in a day, that I've made it big or that I'm ridiculously lazy.

I don't really care which one it is at this point because my house looks amazing and I didn't even break a sweat or gag!! I actually stayed in all night AND had a phone conversation while sitting on my kitchen floor (which, before today, I only walked across with flip-flops guarding my feet).

What's next? Laundry? Maybe.

Their music is still seeping through my veins and creating a little revolution in my soul ...

When I see people doing something really well, I mean something truly unique and inherent to who they are, I am aware of what us marketers work so hard to do every day. They have created something worth talking about. They've created an authentic brand ... and an organic culture around that message. These guys are phenomenal musicians and those who don't understand the complexity of creating music like the old jazz greats or the then "innovative" BEATLES would never really appreciate this band. And they know that. They may never top the charts because not everyone will get them. They're not trying to be everything to everyone. They have a loyal following and, within that niche, they've created fanatics for their product through a viral form of marketing. What they've done is invite people into a conversation ... about them. And at the same time, connect people with what they crave for their own lives.

Then I thought, will I ever stop taking marketing lessons from every aspect of my life? Will it ever get old for me to talk about creating authentic brands or seeking opportunities to market people/products that I believe in? Will I ever stop being this nerdy?

Nope.

And I'm ok with that.

Thanks to Until June for their performance Sunday at the Awaken Humanity Music Festival ... Daniel, you're humility changed my life. Dan, thanks for the sarcasm ... great first impression! :)

Thanks to Reeve Carney & the Revolving Band for creating a space in a little bar in L.A. for me to feel like I was a part of a spiritual uprising. Your raw talent and passion was a pure example of what living in your sweet spot looks like. Thanks for starting the conversation ...

I’m right where I need to be.
I’m incredibly fortunate to be a part of the Mosaic community.
I have to understand that people's levels of adaptability differs from my own.
People from New Zealand call themselves ‘kiwis’
I really miss hugs from father-figures.
I’m unique.
I’m talented.
I’m surrounded by people who know that they’re unique and talented.
I’m a dreamer.
I’m a fighter.
After six days straight of intense social interaction, I become exhausted (yes, even with woo).
I’m still trying to figure out what my unique contribution to the movement of Christ is.
I’m still trying to learn more about Him.
God is moving all over the world in ways I’ve never dreamed.
I hold people to my level of expectations … which sucks.
If we are consistent, but not strategic, then we’re just consistently unstrategic.
We get what we tolerate.
Our companies, our relationships, and our lives are mirrors accurately reflecting us back to ourselves.
We need to change what people are about, not what they believe.
The change I desire will only begin when I decide to be a part of the solution.

sometimes we just need to let it all out.
sometimes we have no idea what we're doing or where we're going.
sometimes we think we have it all figured out and then ...

sometimes we need to paint our nails.

yep.

tonight i made myself dinner. it was amazing.
i opened all the windows and let the warm breeze bring a scent of the ocean into my living room.
i watched a few Friends episodes and then decided it was time.
i dug through a hidden box and found an assortment of colors for my neglected nails. choosing oh-so-carefully my evening chick flick, i walked back to my bed, popped in Mona Lisa Smile and began to paint. fitting for the movie and quite liberating.

it's interesting what a few coats of nail polish will do for a woman. i instantly felt incredibly feminine and surprisingly beautiful. a sense of tradition swept over me as if i were carrying on a legacy by putting the deep crimson paint on the tips of my fingers. it's as if i went back to a time when women were twirled around on a dance floor, poised and articulate while, at the same time, redefining gender roles. one by one stepping out to pave the way for girls like me to sit without guilt that i'm doing the same for future generations.

"look beyond the paint. let us try to open our minds to a new idea." MLS

i couldn't help but think, as tears ran down my face, that the choices i make are in hopes that i am making a difference. this past week was exhausting and sometimes i wonder how long i'll be able to move forward on my own. sometimes i wonder if the sacrifices are worth the unknown outcome. sometimes i crave romance and to be treated like a lady ... to be pursued. and then i wonder, if i hadn't painted my nails tonight, would i even remember that there is a part of me that still believes someone out there wants to protect, love and support me in this adventure i've already begun.

either way, i go to bed tonight open to new ideas and dreams.

tonight, i go to bed a bit more hopeful than when i woke this morning.

"Do not stand in the center if you do not wish to be shaken. There is always danger when the movement comes. Its force is most powerful underneath the surface, then breaks through the hardest of ground. Epic change moves from the inside out." -Ayden, The Perils of Ayden

Something monumental is happening. What is brewing in the depths of my soul ... the deep groanings that I can barely hear ... are slowly making their way to the surface. The eerie cry that beats inside of me is awakening the world around me and I'm actually beginning to believe I have a message that it longs to hear. As I struggle through my own identity crisis, I find pieces of my core in the memoirs of my past and in the glimpses of my future. Both are beckoning me ... taunting me with idealistic scenarios of an adventurous life. My fear of regression keeps me from abandoning even the smallest pieces of my existing status that I feel are equally as detrimental as those in my previous journey. It's almost as if my desire to find equilibrium in the middle is stifled by the chance that I may forfeit all that I've become. Understanding sets in that I wasn't made to live in either extremities of the pendulum swing. If only I could combine the chaos to create an authentic expression that satisfies the cravings of my soul.

It's in these brief hours of opposition, however, that a warrior emerges from behind the confusion. It's in these moments ... the moments where I am one step closer to a point of impact ... that I am reunited with the truest of myself. For though I am shaken, I will not be destroyed. And that brings me peace for the night.

Tomorrow is another chance to find what I'm made of.

As with many in our generation, we have been inundated with national tragedies that have shaped who we are becoming. Twelve years ago this week, I sat in my sixth grade classroom horrified by the news of the Oklahoma City bombings. The front page image of a fireman holding a tiny infant with a torn dress and scathed skin are forever ingrained in my mind. Eight years ago today, I sat in, yet another, classroom as we were informed of the Columbine shootings. The eerie similarities between the demographics of their town and students and ours sent fear throughout our school and the threats began almost instantly. Trench coats began to appear around each corner and lock downs became routine in the following weeks as bomb threats poured in. Fast-forward a few years and I'm sitting in another classroom, this time it's my first semester of college. I gather my things and rush out to the parking lot so that I could make it to my internship on time and panicked confusion is on each radio station as the students around me were frantically dialing numbers on their cell phones. I couldn't understand what the DJs were saying on my car radio. What's with these planes and New York? Another one? The pentagon? I'm confused. I rushed up to the top floor of our building in downtown Wichita where our firm was located. My heart was racing, everything seemed to be so disoriented ... the conference room was packed as everyone watched the big screen. I stepped inside and joined my team and witnessed the collapse of the first tower. Hysteria. Tears. Disbelief. The camera shaking and reporters screaming. People running in each direction. Smoke. Confusion. Fear. Then the second. Is this real? 1500 miles away from the scene and we're being evacuated and sent home. War. Fast-forward two years. I'm visiting a friend at work after getting out of class. My phone rang. I collapse on the parking lot concrete as I am told that a good friend from high school has been killed in Iraq. Fast-forward again. The serial killer BTK re-emerges in my home town creating a new wave of terror amongst young women. In my own neighborhood, he left messages of past murders for the media and city officials to find and I spent countless hours laying in bed, wide awake, contemplating how I would escape if he entered my apartment. Even after his capture, I keep my closet doors open and sleep with my phone by my pillow. Fast forward. Hurricane Katrina shocks our nation and leaves us devistated ... we're still recovering. We're becoming numb to these events and are now realizing that there are so many things that are out of control. Fast forward two years. I'm in India and and begin to understand that these pivotal moments of my memory are a harsh reality to those in other countries. I now sit in my office (at a university) and remember that just last week one of our student workers was on the phone speaking to his parents back home in Baghdad trying to find out if everyone was ok after a bomb obliterated a bridge near their home. This week, my email has been flooded with safety procedures from our university's president in case a similar events would occur here, such as the one at Virginia Tech on Monday. And it doesn't end ... nor will it. Driving to work yesterday, my roommate was diverted from the downtown area (just blocks from our house) because a man had set himself on fire in the courthouse and had left a bag next to him ... feared to be a bomb.

The question is ... will we push on? Will we defy the adversity and try just as hard to create memories for future generations that don't involve hate and destruction and fear? To TC and his friend ... thanks for being a voice of hope to all of us here in the LBC. We're proud of you and so very thankful that your ok.

(I was inspired by this excerpt my roommate Lindsey wrote about her brother, TC.)

"here's a picture from yahoo!news, taken at virginia tech's convocation yesterday. the guy in the middle, the super hunky one with the furrowed brow, is my baby brother TC Montague.

TC is a freshman engineering major, and lives about 100 yards from the now infamous norris hall. this is my chance to tell my friends how much i love him.

like most VT students, he spent the scariest 24 hours of his life giving articulate interviews to various news organizations. his sorrow over losing 4 friends was broadcast on tuesday over every major network in the world. if you watched the convocation on TV, you could see him hand over heart singing the star spangled banner.

when i was his age, we weren't at war, the stock market rose every single day, and i'd never really feared for my safety. he's 19 and grew up in the suburbs, but he's been on the front lines of too many frightening events. the beltway sniper, the DC area anthrax terrorism. september 11th hit his back yard. on his first day of college, on the way to his first class, a police sniper on a roof told him to "get down!" he later learned an escaped convict had gunned down two people and was on the loose within his campus. and on monday, he stepped out of his dorm into a war zone. after being ordered back into the building, he and his friends watched from their windows as bodies were being removed from classrooms and loaded into refrigerator trucks.

though his words are filled with resilience, resolve, and hokie pride, i know he and his friends are forever changed. my heart breaks when i hear it in his voice. their confusion ranges from "why?" to "what now?" to "what do we say at a job interview with virginia tech on our resumes?" no one knows what to do; he said professors were emailing students saying 'write back to let me know you're okay, and consider this your last assignment for the semester.'

unlike the rest of america, he didn't need to look at the list of victims; he knew who was missing by word of mouth and by looking around. TC said he spent five hours straight on the phone that day, never hanging up, just flashing to the next call. he's got stories, like the fortunate friend who showed up for class, reached for the door, and thought 'weird, why's it chained?' he told the washington post how strange it was to be living what everyone else is watching. i can't even imagine.

anyway, i'm 3,000 miles away so this is my hug to my very courageous, very ALIVE baby brother." Lindsey M.