Life These Days, And Hello Again!

This poor Something Ivory has gotten a bit of neglect these last few weeks but today is Friday! (I always feel inspired on Fridays.) And I wanted to check in and post a little update.

First of all, though I never thought I'd be one of the many writers/bloggers to ever say this, I think that Instagram has begun to replace my blogging in some ways. I almost always spend more time crafting the caption than taking the photo and I see it as a chance to tell a little story. When we were abroad our friend Jim asked midway through the trip if I'd blogged yet. I answered no, I hadn't, but that I'd started to think of each of my Instagram photos/captions as a mini blog post. Not everyone uses Instagram like this but I love trying to thoughtfully share real glimpses of my life this way.

Even though I haven't been blogging I've still been writing privately. To be frank, there is something in this season of my life that I'm struggling with deeply and that is too personal to blog about (for me, anyway). But there are many days where I wake up and can't imagine writing about anything else. So I write privately.

In better, kinder news, my life as a business owner/freelance artist/teacher/musician has taken off! I now have close to 15 students in my private studio. I've developed friendships and partnerships with several other young professional musicians and I can tell you, few things are more fun than playing music with your friends. And then gabbing about life over lunch. The best.

A few months ago I was asked to take on the role as vice president of the Charlottesville Music Teacher's Association which made every introverted muscle in my body tense up. I took a day to think about it, then gulped and said yes and it is now my job to plan each of our group's monthly programs for the whole year. We're going to Skype with an expert on performance anxiety, I've invited a soprano and a pianist from UVA to perform some German art songs for us and one of our own members will run a discussion on studio policies and practices. (Among many other things!) This has been enormously fun for me and a huge honor. And time-consuming! More writing emails and less writing blog posts. :)

This time in my life–personally and professionally and inwardly and outwardly–is one of change and growth. It's one where I feel quite proud of myself at times and at other times feel completely raw and vulnerable. Sometimes I'm confident and other times I doubt myself. I have made several incredible, close friends here in the last year. I'm learning how to do adult female friendship well and I'm so thankful for this gift. I feel fulfilled by my musical life and so sure that I'm in the right line of work. I also have realized that we are very much not in control and that we must take every blessing and every hardship alike to God. My prayer life has deepened necessarily.

I suppose what I'm trying to say is that life these days is both harder than ever and more beautiful than ever. Is it possible that both could be true? I'm learning that yes, I think so. There's a rare sort of beauty that is found in suffering. And everything else, it's made lovelier by comparison. Glory be to God for this not-so-small miracle.

What Is Resolution Without Dissonance

What is resolution without dissonance?

This is something I talk to my students about all the time. Music is filled with dissonance—tension, clashes, disharmony. And it is filled with consonance—resolution, release, sounds that are right and pleasing and natural. 

I talk to them about how a passage or a harmony filled with tension, though on its own not always particularly pleasant, is transformed into a thing of beauty by the resolution that follows it. And perhaps more importantly, this resolution is made more meaningful, more gratifying, more pure and special because of the tension it arose out of. 

What is resolution without dissonance?

In lessons I'm so focused on conveying musical and artistic ideas to my students that it hadn't ever occurred to me to apply this same philosophy to my own life outside of music. It wasn't until I heard Seymour Bernstein say it in his documentary that it struck me. My brain was able to zoom out and see that this elemental part of music that I've been coaching my students on for years is one I need to be coaching myself on too. When I play music it comes naturally—I gravitate toward those rich, complicated, moody chords, I lean on them before I move away and then I relish the way they resolve into openness and freeing release. 

But as a Christian, as someone whose faith isn't as a strong as I wish it were, as a human with imperfections and dreams disturbed and a desire to trust in God despite how things are going, I need this lesson to become a bigger part of me.

When life is dissonant I want to lean into it, not away from it. I want to feel tension and longing. I want to recognize and accept it. I want the grace to see struggle as something that can lend strength and goodness and character and godliness if only I let it. I want to wait in joyful hope and with peace in my soul for unrest to end and resolution to take over.

Because when resolution does come, it will be so much more beautiful than it ever could be on its own.

What a joyful discovery that is! I'm grateful—always grateful—for the way music continues to teach me the most profound of life's lessons.

Happy weekend to you all!

Good Friday

He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. 

By His wounds you have been healed. / 1 Peter 2:24

The Earth Has Music For Those Who Listen

Today I was having a bit of a low morning mood-wise, plus we needed groceries and trash stickers.

(Don't ask.)

Only a few select places sell the stickers required for our city's very strange trash pickup system and I decided that this was as good an excuse as any to go to Whole Foods, which is one of the places that carries them. I'm a bit too frugal to actually shop at Whole Foods for most things so I devised a plan. I would take myself on a little "me" date to Whole Foods and then go get our groceries across the street at Trader Joe's. Perfect.

When I got there it was blissfully uncrowded, it being a Wednesday morning, and I walked past the carts and baskets and straight to the coffee counter to order myself a small coffee with cream. This is a decadent thing for me these days since I've pretty much given up coffee, and not for lack of a taste for it. Already I was feeling better.

Drink in hand I sauntered over to the beauty aisle where I leisurely browsed the organic soaps and all-natural lotions and sipped. I considered getting myself a treat (the chamomile and lavender moisturizing mist tempted me) but decided instead that just wandering and sniffing and looking at the pretty packaging was more fun. The goal here was pure therapy by way of zoning out and indulging in the senses and I really didn't need to buy anything to get that.

When I was done with my coffee I went over to customer service, bought my trash stickers and a book of stamps from a very kind cashier and left feeling noticeably refreshed. It was lovely.

And then, to top it off, Trader Joe's didn't let me down. I came home with blood oranges and the makings for BLTs and dark chocolate coconut almonds.

You know, I have this theory that when things seem a little bleak that's actually when we notice and recognize small beauties most clearly. On a normal day blood oranges are just blood oranges, but on a dreary day they can become something special and purposeful. When our emotional state has room for improvement we are suddenly in a position to rejoice over anything that might cross our path, anything that might lift us, anything our heart chooses to latch on to.

Another thing I discovered at Trader Joe's was their greeting card section, which I hadn't ever noticed before. One card was blue and yellow and pink and beautifully designed and it said, The Earth has music for those who listen.

I couldn't help but think that card was for me. Because of circumstances that I would change in a second if I could, I was feeling low. But also because of these circumstances I was listening with all my heart for guidance and watching out for every bit of loveliness I could cling to.

It's true. The Earth has music for those who listen. My music this morning was a cup of coffee and a basket of blood oranges. And a good helping of grace.

Choose To Be Brave

What if instead of feeling anxious or upset by something going on in our lives, what if instead we chose to feel brave?

If we begin to think of ourselves as brave rather than put-upon, brave rather than burdened, brave rather than vulnerable, suddenly the hard thing we're going through becomes a little bit lighter.

We each have our own soft spots that could use a dose of bravery. It might mean drawing away from a friendship that has turned toxic. It might mean breaking out of a rut or giving up unhealthy habits. It might mean moving through a difficult phase in life with grace and elegance.

Whatever is hard in your life right now, dear friends, just remember that you can choose to be brave. There's no doubt that feeling sorry for ourselves is the easier choice but I think bravery will do more for our hearts and minds and characters, don't you think?


Watercolor background source

Something Ivory in 2014

In January, I wrote about how The Future Is A Phantom....because I'm learning that it's best to live bravely in each moment instead of worrying about tomorrow.

In February, I argued for sharing your favorite recipes and kitchen tricks....because good food shouldn't be kept a secret.

In March, I discovered jogger pants....and my long legs rejoiced because these pants are supposed to graze your ankles.

In April, I announced our move to Charlottesville, Virginia with a little silliness and flair....because this was BIG news and worth getting silly over.

In May, we traveled across the country and back....because that's what freedom looks like to a man who has just gotten out of the Army, and his wife was happy to oblige.

In June, we became Virginians and you all celebrated with us....confirming for me that you are the sweetest and loveliest bunch of readers around.

In July, I made myself a little writing nook....because those who write need nooks, and even better when the nook comes with books.

In August, I wrote about becoming un-stuck....because clouds do lift, friends.

In September, I bought a very beautiful little notebook and pencil for my studio, because businesses require paper and pencils....and because these ones match the piano.

In October, I wrote about a homemade pizza I was proud of....because homemade pizza has never been my strong suit but I'm finally figuring it out.

In November, I experienced an oddly wonderful week at a time when I least expected it and most needed it....and undeserved blessings such as these are worth writing about.

In December, I wrote about a gentle, subtle, sort of Love....because I'm trying so hard these days to notice nudges and coaxes and quietly answered prayers.

It's January again, and I'm still working on laughing at the future and still figuring out my teaching business and still looking for those pink jogger pants....but I have a feeling that something will be different about 2015. I'm thankful for this past year and so very hopeful for the next one.

Happy New Year!

Surely The Lord Is In This Place

It's important to my husband and me that our home at Christmastime (well, year-round really, but especially at Christmas) reflects our faith. Now I hope it isn't sacrilegious to say so but I'm personally not a huge fan--aesthetically speaking--of really ornate, over-the-top religious mementos in the home. I prefer the subtle and understated, in almost all areas of life come to think of it.

Anyone who visits our home would be able to deduce that we are serious Christians--from the books on the shelves, the wooden cross hanging above our door, the simple John the Baptist icon in our bedroom. This time of year, the Nativity scene and Advent wreath and many of our ornaments remind us of our faith.

Our house is filled with our Christian beliefs but it's all very, well, subtle and understated is the best way to say it. Kind of like the early Christians who marked their homes with a fish crudely carved above their doorways. There's such power in this simplicity. Of course, there are times when God calls us to shout from the rooftops. He would never want us to hide our faith or shy away from sharing it. There is a time to be bold and wear your heart on your sleeve, there is a place for incredible religious monuments. Take me to St. John the Divine in all its ornate majesty and I'm overcome with emotion and awe and spiritual power.

Faith is the most important thing in life. But it's also at its core supremely private and personal. God hears every whispered prayer and counts every breath and understands every ounce of who we are. He knows every child before it is conceived and He sends us signs from above and guides us from deep within our hearts.

God is always with us. Sometimes, of course, His presence is tangible and obvious and those moments are precious. But most of the time He moves mysteriously and delicately, subtly. Most of the time He doesn't hit us over the head but instead loves us through nudges and coaxes and quietly answered prayers. Most of the time He goes totally unseen and it is our job to believe without seeing.

I suppose that's why I prefer to fill our home with these simpler sorts of religious icons. To me, God is most powerful when He's subtle, when He makes us strain to hear Him. In real everyday life it isn't always easy to find God. Life can be so, so difficult. But as Christians we know without a doubt--whether we're in St. John the Divine or in our homes or in the most desolate wilderness--we know that surely, the Lord is in this place.


Merry Christmas, friends! May it be holy and bright.

Homemade Christmas

Unsurprisingly, I like to decorate for Christmas the same way I like to decorate the rest of the time--simply, putting hand-me-downs to good use, re-purposing in creative ways, making instead of buying when I can.

For me, this is the most wholesome and refreshing and in-the-spirit way to approach Christmas. I've been very conscious this year, perhaps more so than in other years, of keeping my focus on Jesus, of nurturing peace in my heart and in my home, and making this most special holiday simple, lovely, and joyful.

As I look around our home the words "Homemade Christmas" jump into my mind. My brothers and I were raised on gluing together our own ornaments, baking and frosting warm sugar cookies, stockings that were sewn by Grandma. And I suppose I've now adapted that homemade spirit for adulthood.

Instead of purchasing an expensive garland for our mantel, we asked for the discarded evergreen trimmings we saw in a pile at a local Christmas tree farm. From those I had more than enough to fill our mantel and transform my fall wreath into a wintery one. I found some holly (holly look-alike maybe?) in our yard and stuck a few sprigs on the wreath, and I dotted the mantel greenery with some of the leftovers from this unexpected fall bouquet. I foraged for the red berries during a walk to the park.







Our advent wreath is a little on the makeshift side but I love its simplicity. These greens also came from this bouquet. We arranged them in a rustic circle and set out four white votives and a larger Christ candle in the middle.

Everything is so simple and wintery and the only thing we've purchased (other than gifts) is our mini live tree. I felt so content and peaceful as I unwrapped things we already had and found a place for them in our new home, as I snipped berries from the tree outside our window, as I positioned baby Jesus and Mary in the place of honor on the mantel.

So while it's certainly nice to have the traditional pink or purple Advent candles, I don't think Jesus minds that we've chosen to honor him with plain white votives instead. After all, Christmas isn't about acquiring things and it isn't about perfection. It's about love and joy and celebration and family and it's about a heart-bursting kind of hope.

In that spirit, a Homemade Christmas sounds just right to me.

Generosity of Strangers

The best thing happened to me on Saturday morning. It was early in the day, a cold morning, and I was headed to the farmer's market to get fresh apples and brussels sprouts for Thanksgiving. Our farmer's market is located downtown and parking is tricky, so I parked maybe 5 blocks away and started my brisk walk to the market.

I walked by our church, and the historical society, and the library, and as I passed over to the next block something sitting on a stoop caught my eye.

It took me a second to register what that little homemade sign meant. If it had said "free" I wouldn't have thought twice but for a second it occurred to me, "Maybe this sign is for someone specific?!" Hmm. But there is a flower shop next door to this doorway, I noticed. And the greens had been sitting out all night (the water in the bucket was iced). So I eventually figured that they were indeed meant for whoever spotted them first and felt shameless enough to pick up this giant bucket and tote it home.

I decided that was going to be me. 

I needed to get to the market first so I sort of glanced around casually to see if anyone else had noticed the awesome free thing I'd just come upon. Shopkeepers opening up, a few people milling around. There didn't seem to be a ton of interest in my stoop.

So I bought my apples and brussels sprouts and on the way back I quickened my step because the downtown mall had gotten a little busier by now. Surely there are lots of people who would see the potential in this nondescript bunch of greenery, right?!

But no, I guess not, and I have to admit I was ridiculously pleased and giddy to see my treasure still sitting where I'd left it. I heaved up the bucket and made my way back to the car.

I grinned all the way home and couldn't wait to tell my husband the story. (I created a whole narrative for him using the photos I'd snapped.) And then I rolled up my sleeves and set out to turn that bucket of leftover leaves into something seriously beautiful. I knew they wouldn't disappoint me.

And that, dear friends, is a Thanksgiving story if I ever heard one. This bit of good fortune completely made my day. All because of a stranger's generosity and some leftover flower shop greens. 

(And maybe a tiny bit because of my tendency to find silly amounts of joy in unlikely places.)

As Your Days, So Shall Your Strength Be

I'm so happy to have this morning free for blogging! Last week was especially packed and usually if I don't get to blogging by about noon, then it just isn't going to happen for that day. But this morning is wide open and it's pouring rain outside the window next to me and I'm happy as a clam to be sitting here quietly writing.

This past week and weekend made quite the perfect pair. It was a full and creatively stimulating week so by the time I got to Saturday morning I was ready for some calm downtime. I like that combination of busy, fulfilling week and relaxed, not overly planned weekend.

I recently came across this verse from Deuteronomy, really loved it, and wanted to share.

Your sandals shall be iron and bronze; As your days, so shall your strength be.

It reminds me that whatever sort of day I'm having--a challenging one, a wonderful one, a sad one, an exciting one, a fulfilling one--that God is with me ready to match it and ready to give me whatever I need. This is especially good to remember on harder days. The more we need Him the more He'll give. That's so, so comforting.

But it's also helpful to remember this verse on those breathless, floating days when everything fits into place. Those days are a different kind of gift of strength. The day itself reinforces us and reminds us of God's goodness and love and makes us feel whole and secure.

We must lean on God and believe in His ability to carry us through life's tough spots. But we must also remember to praise Him when standing upright feels effortless. Because that's His doing, too.



(Photo taken on Skyline Drive last weekend.)

Friday Musings

This week has been unexpectedly wonderful. I can't put my finger on why, exactly, but I've felt so peaceful and calm and content for about 4 days straight now, and I'm so thankful for it! I've written before about my worry habits and so when I'm blessed with extended periods of non-worry, it's a thing to rejoice over.

I mostly believe that the peace I've been feeling has been bestowed on me as a gift but there were a few things I can pinpoint that made my week an especially good one:

***

I had some really great teaching moments. If I do say so myself. I started teaching a new student this week, an adult, and we had a fantastic first lesson together. By the end of the hour he was able to play a simple melody and read a bit of music on his own. After he'd gotten the melody down I accompanied him with the teacher duet part and the look on his face after we finished the simple little piece was priceless. The accompaniment part fills out the melody and creates quite a pleasant little chord progression, and I could tell he felt so pleased he'd been a part of creating that sound, making that music. He uttered a surprised "Ah!" with a smile and for me, these moments are what teaching music is all about.

My sweet husband had a birthday. We had a simple little celebration, just the two of us. I made a delicious pot roast and a mini German Chocolate Cake (the good man has been faithfully keeping to a very healthy diet these past few weeks) and opened cards. I have a feeling that when I'm old it will be these times I look back on when I think of our early marriage. Finishing up a lesson in the studio, checking the pot roast that has been stewing away in the oven for hours, waiting for my husband to come home. Setting the table with a white tablecloth and our good silverware and a few candles. Playing music and dancing in the kitchen as I roast the carrots and check the time, carefree and focused solely on making the man I married happy on his birthday. 

I bought a new shampoo and it's amazing. Not as deep as my first two pieces of evidence, but this stuff made my morning shower extra luxurious and added some awesome sleekness and shine to my hair. I never thought my hair was dry before but my hairstylist recently mentioned he thought it could use some extra moisture. I think using this stuff regularly will do the trick.

Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, Virginia. Oh my goodness, the area we live in is incredible this time of year. Perfectly cool yet sunny days have been the norm, and when the wind picks up the leaves go wild, swirling and dancing and showering the earth with their colors. Like a rain storm but with leaves instead of droplets of water. This happens regularly in our neighborhood and I love watching and feeling it.

This quote from the book I'm reading: "For many years a tree might wage a slow and silent warfare against an encumbering wall, without making any visible progress. One day the wall would topple; not because the tree had suddenly laid hold upon some supernormal energy, but because its patient work of self-defense and self-release had reached fulfillment. The long-imprisoned tree had freed itself. Nature had had her way."

***

Also, there were laughing fits and kind neighbors and a new printer I proudly set up myself. There was Brahms and yoga and jasmine tea and hugs. And tomorrow I get to have brunch with my mom! How lucky am I. I say none of this to brag but purely to share the joy that comes from being gifted, undeservingly, with a wonderful string of moments and an overflow of peace.

Weeks like this remind me that Someone is listening.

Happy Friday, dear readers. :) 

(Photo above is of the doorknob in our bathroom. It fell off twice this past week, both times when guests were opening the bathroom door, but it's easy to forgive something this beautiful, right?)

Over-Thinking Meets Trust

Yesterday, I was practicing a scale exercise (the kind of practicing that drives the other member of my family, whose office is directly below my studio, a little mad). The point of the exercise is to train your hands to switch from one pattern to another very quickly and it's surprisingly difficult to play it well.

As I was working my brain tuned out for a moment and I noticed that as a result I was playing much more cleanly and precisely than I had been when my mind was fully engaged, thinking about what came next, anticipating the next scale pattern. I had put in enough practice time that my fingers and hands knew the exercise better than my brain. I would even go so far as to say that my over-thinking mind was getting in the way.

I had to smile to myself when I realized that because, really, what's new? 

Worry From A New Perspective

I'm happy that October is here. October is a cozy, comforting, month, and something that I'm trying to do this October (in general, really, but let's keep the goal small for now) is to worry less. 

Wicked Yet Loved

“The gospel of justifying faith means that while Christians are, in themselves still sinful and sinning, yet in Christ, in God’s sight, they are accepted and righteous. So we can say that we are more wicked than we ever dared believe, but more loved and accepted in Christ than we ever dared hope—at the very same time. This creates a radical new dynamic for personal growth. It means that the more you see your own flaws and sins, the more precious, electrifying, and amazing God’s grace appears to you. But on the other hand, the more aware you are of God’s grace and acceptance in Christ, the more able you are to drop your denials and self-defenses and admit the true dimensions and character of your sin."

Becoming Un-Stuck

We've been in Charlottesville for just about two months now. When family members and friends ask how we like it, it's not an exaggeration to say that in so very many ways, living here has been one enormous upgrade. And it's made me think--would I have noticed all of these small but really, pretty huge, luxuries and beauties and wonders had I not spent two years struggling to find my way in a place that never felt like home, a place far from everything I knew and that I never really cared for?

Remembering This Summer

During college my summers were constructive and purposeful and memorable. My first summer after freshman year I went to a seven-week-long music festival in Western New York. The next summer I had an internship in DC, the next summer an internship in Hoboken, NJ. Each summer I was in a different place and with different people, accomplishing something unique and interesting for those few months in between school years.

In between my two years of grad school I was working hard on our cookbook with my family and planning my wedding at the same time. It was a beautiful summer filled with summer tomatoes and gorgeous recipes and lots of paper and ribbon and happiness.

Once there are no longer school years to divide and define, time starts blending together a little more, don't you think? It's not bad, just different. Other things make certain seasons or even months or weeks stick out in our memories. And I have a feeling that this summer, with its particular smells and moments and emotions, I think it'll be one that lasts and lasts.

I'll remember this summer for its joy. As we drove a short two and a half hours last weekend through the Blue Ridge Mountains and Northern Virginia's wine country up to a family reunion, I felt so much joy at finally being close to family. To be able to drive to see loved ones--amazing! This state, in all of its beauty, brings me joy and I'm proud to live in a place with history and old stone buildings that have been around for centuries and plaques on the side of the road that are fun to stop and read. Waking up in our sweet little house brings me joy. As long as my home is a place of beauty and peace and rest, a place where my family and friends feel safe and protected, a place filled with love and wholesomeness and honesty, then I've succeeded.

I'll remember this summer for our little screened porch. I catch myself sitting here and looking out at the trees with an involuntary smile on my lips. It's such a place of calm for me. I'll remember these summer mornings on the porch with a cup of tea and this blog and the birds and the streams of early sunlight peeking in. To have a place that is part of my home yet also a part of nature is magical.

I'll remember this summer for the ways God has proven faithful. These past few years were hard. I've sort of blocked out some of it but when I make myself remember how lonely some of those months were, it makes me exceedingly grateful for the here and now. The way forward was lit by faith alone.

As we grow deeper into our new lives and establish routines and build relationships, as it always happens, I'm sure a bit of the novelty and newness will wear off. Not that we'll take it for granted but there will be a settledness and a normalcy and a regularity to all of it. There's a beauty to this too.

But this time we're in right now, this summer of intensity and heart-swelling gratitude and deeply felt love of place and home and family and friends, I'll remember it for a very long time.

We Made It

I am not a careless God. When I allow difficulties to come into your life, I equip you fully to handle them. 

There were times over the past two years when I actually believed this day might never come. The thought crossed my mind and it seemed entirely possible we'd be stuck in Alabama forever. I'm so happy to be proved wrong. Today I'm brimming with joy and relief and gladness because today, we're moving!!!

We made it. Over and over again, God has given me the grace I so desperately need. Wish us safe travels! Virginia, we can't wait.

(Quote above from the Jesus Calling app.)

Good Friday

  

   And they will mock Him and spit on Him, and flog Him and kill Him. And after three days He will rise.

-Mark 10:34

       Noah Zinsmeister Photography

Good Friday is the really difficult part of Easter weekend. We know that Easter is coming and the joy and hope it represents, so it can be easy to forget today. But it's important not to forget today--to forget that our salvation came at a price, that God asked His son to do something unimaginable, all because He loves us so very much.

The part of the crucifixion story that is most painful for me to read is when Jesus cries, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Jesus' humanity, his divinity, and both his physical and emotional suffering are all wrapped up in this cry. His pain was real. 

Good Friday is a sad day for Christians but without it, the joy of Easter wouldn't be half as bright, and wonderful, and brilliant. May we all remember what this day means and be thankful.

An Easy Choice

Tulips for Easter and Springtime and new beginnings

Finally, the cat's out of the bag! Thanks so much to my dear, sweet readers for being excited and happy with us! Charlottesville is a vibrant, wonderful little city and I'm pretty sure we're going to love it there.

These last two years in Alabama were very much not a part of our plan, as I'm sure you have gathered from my posts. We thought we would live here together as a married couple for three months, max, but it's been close to 24. We also thought we'd be in a very different situation by the time we left Alabama than we currently are. Life has surprised us.

But you know what I've learned? That this trying, frustrating, patience-testing, worry-filled, big unknown phase of our lives has been one enormous blessing in disguise. God had a plan for us and my husband and I both honestly believe that we are in a better place as a result of the chaos of the last few years (the details of which I won't get into here). If that isn't a praise-worthy revelation I don't know what is.

We are moving to Charlottesville because my husband got the unexpected opportunity to go back to school in order to pursue a career change (a career of the "dream" variety). We're moving there to be close to our families--my in-laws are a little over an hour away and my parents are a little over two hours away. We are moving there so that I might feel more stimulated artistically and creatively and hopefully grow as a musician and a teacher and a writer. We are moving to Charlottesville because it's a beautiful and interesting part of the country. Simply put, we like it there.

Last week we signed a lease on a cute house to rent and--get this--we did it all sight unseen! Something I wouldn't have imagined doing in a previous life but I guess I'm getting gutsy and learning to be flexible. To be fair, my mother went to see it and proclaimed it adorable and perfect for us. (Also, it has a red door and a screened porch. Sold.) We can't wait to see it and move in.

It's a wonderful feeling to have made this relocation decision together as a couple and to know that it is the right one for us. It was weird, sometime over this past summer I started to feel a pull to Virginia generally and Charlottesville specifically. As we thought about it more and more the decision pretty much made itself. It was an easy choice and after months of hard choices or too few choices, that felt great.

It goes without saying that there are still unknowns in our lives (there always will be) and issues to overcome (of course!) but we feel so hopeful for this new chapter and the changes it will bring.

(Not least of which is the happy reunion that will take place when I get to unpack the boxes filled with wedding gifts. I've had many a daydream about Grandma's china and our white embroidered pillowcases and our pretty dining room chairs.)

I'm Doing Just Fine

Scene from yesterday: a billowing curtain and fresh April air.

Sometime last week, I was having a bad day. I was discouraged and getting worked up and not feeling super happy. On that same day, my mom sent me this WSJ article called, "Advice For A Happy Life." My bad day and the timing of her email had nothing to do with each other--purely coincidental--and my mom meant nothing other than to send me an article she knew I'd like. But I do remember reading just the title and thinking--ok good, yes, this is what I need to read right now. What am I doing wrong?! Why aren't things going according to plan?! I'm not having a happy time of things right now, and maybe it's my fault. I need this advice!

And then I read the article and realized, I'm doing just fine.

Here are the author's five pieces of very wise advice for leading a happy life:


Consider marrying young.

Learn how to recognize your soul mate.

Eventually stop fretting about fame and fortune.

Take religion seriously.

Watch "Groundhog Day" repeatedly.


Here I was, thinking I was going to get a very welcome spiel on not taking yourself so seriously, focusing on the present and choosing to let tomorrow's worries go, learning how to laugh in the face of difficulties. After all, that's usually how these kinds of articles go and honestly, I would have been all ears had this been the advice. My fears were getting in the way of my happiness that day, and I suppose I wanted some justification that I was unhappy for good reason. I suppose I wanted to be told that if I can only laugh at myself, I'll feel better. I wanted to be told that these thoughts were normal but ten deep breaths would go a long way toward feeling peace. I guess I wanted this article to sympathize with me and then provide a quick fix.

But this article wasn't fluff. It was wise and honest and true. And it provided me with something much more valuable than justification and some flimsy pick-me-ups. It made me realize, I'm doing just fine.

I don't know what my one-year plan looks like, let alone my five-year plan, but I've got a husband and he's going through every step with me and we're going to look back on this time of not knowing and be so glad for the richness and the lessons and the love in these early years of our marriage.

I don't have control over a lot of the things my heart desires, but I've found my soul mate. My heart has found its resting place and even on days it feels heavy, my heart isn't lost. It belongs.

Wondering how successful I will be as a piano teacher and a musician and an artist scares me, and I don't know what my niche in the creative world will be just yet. Thank goodness I never cared about fame and fortune! I was talking with one of my students last week about when we are planning to move, and he told me that things just won't be the same without me. We started his lessons the same month he relocated to Alabama with his family so he's seen me every week for the whole time he's lived here. It was so touching and helped me to remember that if I can influence and inspire even just one young pianist, I'm doing ok.

I have so much to learn about faith and trust and godliness but I am 100% committed to the discovery. And I'm realizing that God teaches us so much through our trials, I need only be open to what He is trying to show me.

I've only seen "Groundhog Day" once, but I've got time on my side.