a month well lived.

A month well lived: Full of lively steps, bright outlooks, and unstudied moments.

Anthropologie is inspiring to me (and most women) in more ways than one, but this month, they featured a great saying on their website gave me much more than eye candy. I thought this quote was so appropriate for the way so many feel about 20Ten, so much hope, so much to look forward to, and a time to pick up the pieces and make something beautiful out of it. Not to mention, a great way to kick off one of my resolved attempts at blogging more.

It’s all too easy to get back into the grind of another month. There’s always the ‘getting-back-into-the-habit-of-work-after-the-holidays’ phase, which is often precarious, but this little note reminded me that in the midst of the business, I should focus on living life well.

I think living life well means doing the things that are “back burnered” by busy-ness. Breaking this down into months means that I now can focus on living those 28-31 days in the richest way I know how, and before you know it, I’ve lived 12 of those months richly.

It’s easy for me to get caught up in the big picture right now. And while that is not necessarily a bad thing, I sometimes feel as though I’m not living the day 100%. It’s easy to look at my calendar and see that I’m doing something or going somewhere almost every weekend and be stressed and tired already.

Living life well this month will mean being excited for the day, whatever it brings, and not seeing it as a checklist. And occasionally jumping up and down for no good reason other than life is awesome.

"the seven rules of the italian kitchen"

I just finished reading Bon Appetit’s fall issue, and couldn’t get out of my head this short half page article about the beauty of Italian cooking. Though it was obvious the piece was both an introduction and directional to the ways of Italian cooking, there was a very real editorial influence to the piece; almost a plea to the cook to, in spite of the reality of many of our economic situations, to not let that be a hindrance in our providing and sharing.

That being said, the author also came up with “7 Rules” that we should abide by. Because I guess we all have a little Italian in us?

Pay Attention: Notice what foods in our area are seasonal, local. “In Italy, the kind of cooking that chooses the local over the exotic is faithful to the seasons and wastes nothing.”

Love the Leftovers: (obviously, I am my father’s daughter): “Just about anything can live happily in a frittata.”

Keep It Simple: “Let the ingredients speak for themselves.” Don’t overcomplicate cooking.

Taste and Savor: I think my family did an incredible job of doing this the meals I actually sat for more than 15 minutes when I was growing up. I see that importance now, when my mom sets up our tables in the back yard with candles and piles the dishes on this huge farm table, that we sit, catch up, and enjoy that time over a meal that is removed from our crazy lives.

Cook Creatively: “There is comfort in working with the most humble ingredients, and pleasure in being resourceful in whatever is at hand.” How much do we love those nights when a meal turns out great and we aren’t able to remember exact measurements of things?

Grow Something: Regardless of if we have land or not, we all know that produce, meat, etc. just tastes better when you know who and where it came from…

Practice Generosity: (loved this) “Now, more than ever, we need to eat together. Whatever there is to eat, it’s enough to go around. We come together at the table not because of what we do have, but despite of what we don’t.”

The article finished with these brilliant lines:

“So let’s just pretend we’re Italian. I say this in all seriousness: Why not use these trying times as an opportunity – or an invitation – to do something we have to do anyway (namely, eat) with all the grace, simplicity, enthusiasm, and generosity of spirit we can muster?” – Lori De Mori Bon Appetit

The Humility of the Grafted and the Pruned: In Reference to Trojans, Sales, and Faith.

“The only reason you’re on the tree is because your graft “took” when you believed, and because you’re connected to that belief nurturing root…Be humbly mindful of the root that keeps you lithe and green.”

-       Paul, from Romans 11:19ish.

I hope I don’t make any theological missteps in this, but this comes from a Paul who is addressing the grafts (Gentiles), and referencing the pruned ones (Jews). Jesus is the life and love-giving root, completely holy. Those who turned their backs on the kingdom were deemed useless and pruned, while new branches were introduced to the root, and grafted in.

After reading and thinking about what Paul is getting at (which is way more than I’ve attempted to summarize), I thought about how my own coming to terms with pruning and grafting.

Pruning lesson #1: USC loses to University of Washington

(If you know me, you know why this hurts. It was a game we shouldn’t have lost, but the cards were ultimately in favor of the Dawgs. )

There’s nothing more heartbreaking than a loss like this, especially when it comes from such an underdog.  It shouldn’t be heartbreaking because it is a rarity that a team finishes the season undefeated. However, if you know recent USC football, you will also know that for this team, going undefeated isn’t a rarity, and how easy it is to get caught up in the “Win Forever” mindset.

It hurts when you’re riding high, confident, and your world comes crashing in the form of a team who is coming from the bottom up, and I was reminded that there is no such thing as entitlement to victory.

“And don’t get to feeling superior to those pruned branches down on the ground. If they don’t persist in remaining deadwood, they would very well get grafted back in.” – Rom. 11.23

Pruning lesson #2: Sales

I never studied sales in school, but I came in with the notion that, much like everything else I do, did, will do, that any form of a result is the effect of any form of work, whether it’s good, bad, lazy, tiresome. In the sales world, I’ve come to find that just because it looks like a success, doesn’t mean it is.

What I mean by that is that I get cocky. I’m excited to tell people that I booked a great event, which means I sold a lot of revenue. My colleagues will tell me how excited they are, great job, etc. Does it blow my ego up? Absolutely. And there’s nothing worse than when I have to send a mass email out saying that the client cancelled, or pushed back their event, or for whatever reason, didn’t book.  Even if it wasn’t my fault, I lost that revenue that I was so excitedly talking about just a day before. It’s like celebrating a victory before the clock runs out, you should never do it.

“But if you…being a wild olive, were grafted in among them and became partaker with them of the rich root of the olive tree, do not be arrogant toward the branches; but if you are arrogant, remember that it is not you who supports the root, but the root supports you.” – Rom. 11:17

Ultimately, Paul reminds me to live as a redeemed person. I didn’t deserve this, and I should be continually blown away by the miracle of the graft.

“So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life- your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life- and place it before God as and offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for Him.”

- Paul, Romans 12:1

on running.

I’ll never forget this Pearl Izumi ad campaign. I loved it because it was all about runners versus joggers, and how the two are intrinsically different.  The ads were simple, black background with white type, making bold proclamations like, “Runners sometimes jog, but joggers never run.” Or  “If you’re note sure if you’re a runner or a jogger, go faster.”

“Our ancestors never jogged down a meal.”

“Real runners don’t to escape the fact that they are running.”

This campaign was brilliant because it did what ads are supposed to do – make you feel like you belong somewhere because you have the thing they are advertising. 

I love running. It is my escape. Some people enjoy running because they can process thoughts, think about life. I enjoy running because , quite frankly, I don’t think about anything. I’ll never forget my junior year of high school when I found out my ex-boyfriend started to publicly pursue my friend. I saw it on AIM or something, and before you knew it, I was out the door, sprinting as hard as I could. I event remember what I wore – red soccer shorts and a white t-shirt. I remember just going, going, and then realizing when rationale had set in, that if I was going one way, I had to run back the other way to get home.

I don’t run before work often enough, but when I do, I love it. Especially in Santa Monica. Yesterday morning, I ran. The air had a chill to it, and I shivered as I took my first few steps, pressing the start button on my watch out of habit. I have a loop, and it’s pretty much the only route I run in Santa Monica.  I know if I’m running slow or fast based on which apartment buildings I pass at certain times, if I make it between blocks within the same street light sequence.

Yesterday morning, I was two blocks from home, and decided to walk. Now, I should preface this minor detail with the fact that I don’t like to walk. I have short legs, and a complex that says, “someone driving by you is going to see you walking and think that you’re a walker, not a runner.”

However, yesterday morning, I decided to walk home because in those first few slower steps, I felt the weather outside, I was awakened to what was going on around me, and was able to think and pray. I guess I always assume that because running is my physical release, it’s also my mental and emotional release. The way the thoughts came flowing , the way my soul and spirit felt alive and invigorated, was because I took the time to walk, to pay attention, to just invite those senses to be awakened.

Clearly, story of my life. Running and walking. Life-running to me is a Blackberrry wielding, weekly schedule maker, “I only have these nights to hang out” sayer. It gets me from point A to point B quicker, but I think I miss some things along the way. Life-walking to me is the unplanned, spur of the moment, the “let’s hang out because we both find ourselves with time to” kind of self. I love it, and it refreshes my soul, and I don’t walk often enough.

love[ers] in japan.

I recently was forwarded an email from my new friend, Joel. (We’ve met once and hung out, so in my world, that means friends.) He is on a short-term mission trip to Okinawa, and shared some of the things he and his team are doing, and I was really touched by one activity in particular.

“…Instead of a political or business agenda, the signs have encouraging phrases or words on them such as "You are beautiful" "We love you" "You are amazing."  In Hawaii, we usually just stand at corners and wave/shaka/smile/shout at people.  This time, we did all this but we MARCHED!  So if you can imagine over 50 people with signs walking around downtown Naha waving/shouting/smiling/blessing people that pass by whether, they are just walking, hanging out, or in their cars…”

This then led me to another thought I had just read about in my friend Natalie’s blog:

Loved people love people.

Isn’t that the truth? One of the most over-arching themes of the gospel, boiled down into one single point? 

Think about all the things love is: patient, kind, humble, not jealous, believing, hoping, sustaining.

We can not do things with out love. By the same token, if we have received the most epic love of all, we are able to love in the most epic of ways. The world would never be the same if everyone moved and lived and breathed to this realization.

What a gift. 

(take that, los angeles).

Endless Summer (Breakfast): In Search of the Croissant Parfait

I didn’t know that parfait meant 'perfect' in French until my friend said it the other night. Who knew that when you said, “I’d like a fruit and yogurt parfait” at Starbucks, that you were really saying, “I’d like a fruit and yogurt perfection, please”?

Foreign languages are sweet. Finding the perfect croissant, event sweeter.

Honestly, there is nothing quite like a coffee and croissant on a weekday morning. It is the perfect marriage of business and pleasure – business meaning I am dressed in my work clothes, pleasure meaning I am eating.

I don’t know why I like croissants that much. But they do hold a special place in my heart, somewhere in between my grandpa, the beach, and old home videos.

I digress.

Amandine Patisserie. The first time I had see this greenery covered bakery, I quickly entered into my Blackberry notes and promised myself that one morning, I would go.

A turquoise door welcomes you into a space luminated by the morning Santa Monica sun.

The place is cheerful, and mounds of pastries greet the senses as you step into a place that feels all too much like Europe.

A chalkboard appears lively with all that is written on it – things like Tarte Citron, Omelette Lorriane, Fresh Vegetable Pain de Mie, and of course, their freshly baked breads and pastries.

The first time I bit into their butter croissant, my eyes lit up, and a smile swept upon my face. It’s that good. Each bite seems to be autographed with care and artful consideration of the consummate pastry experience. Flaky and smooth on the outside, the inside is carefully woven in butter and air to create something that is truly spectacular.

I love Amandine’s concept:
“Our concept is to bring freshly unique, quality food to your everyday life.

We like to think of it as being that special part of your day, where you can break away from

the hustle and bustle of life

to find a moment of leisure and a savory indulgence that

satisfies your craving.”

Maybe that’s why I love this place so much. Maybe why I love bakeries in the morning. It allows me to take some time to myself or with a friend to fill my heart with things other than the day ahead. Maybe cause for the 30 minutes that I could be sitting in traffic, I choose to enjoy a slow start.

Before the business of the day sets in, I find quiet times to be as valuable as a quarter in the seat when you need money for parking. They’re good for the soul – to be still and soak in the day that is to come.

Couple it with a croissant and a cappuccino with extra foam, and there is no reason a day should ever be bad.

i-love-my-life kind of moments.

We’ve all had them. That powerful surge of the realization that yes, you’re life at that moment, is awesome.

They’re just really special, mind-blowing moments, only ones that your heart can fathom.

Nothing is better than a soul satisfied.

I was reminded the other day that there is a significant difference between joy and happiness. I think happiness can be crafted by circumstance. True joy rests in the fact that we just simply can’t make this moment up. It’s too good, too precious.

I think we’ll find that the i-love-my-life kind of moments do not come from purchasing anything, or maybe relate to anything material for that matter.

They’re the times where you have company over for dinner and realize that you love every single person in the room.

The times where you decide to curl up and read a book because you want to.

Most recently spotted i-love-my-life-moments include, but are not limited to: mornings that consist of breakfasting, farmers’ marketing, and beaching; really well done sunsets; realizing that the people in your life are incredible; running in i-can't-help-but-be-outside weather.

Raw and uncrafted, rare and treasured, the beauty of these moments is a sheer matter of gratitude and appreciation.

Found anywhere, by anyone, in anything.

[insert your own moment here]