Be Still: The Story of My Tattoo

This story begins two years ago, in the summer I lovingly refer to as my quarter-life crisis. I was taking a walk during my lunch break when this crazy thought popped into my head: I should get a tattoo. Now I've never been one for making rash decisions, especially when it comes to something permanent so I gave myself a year to mull the idea around before I started researching tattoo parlors.

That year came and went and I moved to St. Louis, but not before my friend and I had made a pact to get tattoos. And a little more than a year after I went skydiving, I crossed another thing off my bucket list last week: I finally got my tattoo.

Be Still.

These words tattooed on my arm remind me of several things. First, I am reminded of Psalm 46, my favorite psalm: "Be still and know that I am God." I preached on this Psalm during my senior chapel at Luther, commenting that in the midst of the storms of life, God is there. Now, even more so than that day in Fall 2011, I think I need that reassurance that God is there if I just listen.

There is an exercise we do at camp sometimes where we repeat this verse, leaving off one word each time.

Be still and know that I am God
Be still and know that I am
Be still and know that I
Be still and know that
Be still and know
Be still and
Be still
Be.

In addition to this reflection on the psalm, my favorite camp song is Peace, Be Still. A simple song of four lines, Peace, Be Still is a constant refrain in my head reminding me to stop, even in spite of the storms.
Peace, be still/peace, be still/the storm rages/peace, be still.

The final reason I love having these words as a part of me is the simple reminder to pause. I'm a social work student who wants to go into political work and the political and social work fields are full of constant energy and non-stop action. Regardless of all the pressures that I face (and will continue to face) on a daily basis, I want the constant reminder to pause. It's so easy to get caught up in the endless to do lists that we often forget to enjoy the current moment. I'm certainly not perfect at this (I had to stop and practice my deep breathing during a recent appointment when I was getting frustrated that things weren't working out as they should) but I'm working on it. This visual on my arm reminds me every day to be still and pause, enjoying the peace that surrounds me, and for that I'm grateful.

Leaning into the Pause

It's been just over a year since I started my blog and just over a month since I moved to St. Louis, so I figured it was time to publish another blog post.

So to start off: school is going well. It's challenging and scary and difficult and I love it. I'm taking classes where we discuss privilege week after week and it is so hard to have those conversations. But they are so important to have, especially in St. Louis.

It's the finding myself that is the most difficult though. I was part of so many communities previously, and I defined myself by my membership in them. Here, I'm just trying to figure out who I am. I can completely redefine myself if I wanted to--but if I do, who am I? What do I want from these next few years? That's a big and difficult question to answer.

I was challenged during our week of Orientation to find my truth. Seems simple enough, right? So I took some time to think about the things I knew to be true.

1. People are inherently good. I was walking home from campus during the first week of class and as I was waiting to cross the street, a gentleman who was holding a cardboard sign said hello to me and asked if I was Shirley Temple. I laughed and told him no, that I had been called that a lot as a child. He then asked what year I was in school and I replied, saying I had just started my Masters program. With a big smile on his face, he welcomed me to St. Louis and told me I simply had to go to that museum with the bus on top. The City Museum?, I asked. He nodded and I crossed the street. I've seen that guy a few times since, we smile at each other, but that engagement just reminded me of the power of humanity. Isn't it better to imagine the opportunities in humanity instead of the evils anyway?

I stopped there on my list because that's all I could think of. That's all I know right now, but that is my truth. And I think that's an ok place to start.

So I sit here now, in my new apartment, sipping tea and listening to the buses run by on the street below me. And I'm grateful for this time that I can sit here and pause. In a few minutes, I'll pack up my backpack and head to campus for class and work and it will be go time, but for now, I can sit here and just be. Maybe that's what I've been missing in my life--those pause moments. I've intentionally tried to build them into my new schedule and I'm hopeful that I can use the space to find more of my truth. Or maybe I just need to lean into the pause moments, and I am also open to that. So here's to the truth and the pause.

Night Changes

Today I stared at my computer screen and slowly tears began to well up in my eyes. I willed them back, refusing to cry. "This is good. I'm making the right choice," I told myself. But whatever I told myself, it was still hard to type those words "Courtney's last day will be August 5, 2016."

This place, this world, has become so much a part of me. Even when it was hard to come to work because I never knew what I would find, I loved the work I do. I had begun to define myself by my role at the shelter, and my coworkers feel like my extended family.

But of course that couldn't last forever; nothing wonderful ever does. And moving to St. Louis to get my MSW at my dream school is the best choice I could have ever possibly made, as difficult as it is to go through with it at times. I don't do change well, and I've had so many changes to make in the past few months: choosing to go back to school and everything that comes with that from finding an apartment and a roommate in a city I don't know, to scheduling classes, leaving my job, applying for student loans, and leaving the wonderful people here in Des Moines.

In my last blog post so many months ago, I wrote about the challenges I was having with change. And it was this big change of choosing to go back to school in a city six hours away where I know very few people that I was just beginning to wrestle with in a very personal way at that time. That paralyzing fear of this change has been something I've been living with for the past nine months. Not surprisingly, I found solace in the song that asked me "Does it ever drive you crazy/just how fast the night changes?" My answer has been yes, yes, yes. I'm terrified.

As I pushed those tears back this morning, I began to answer that question a little bit differently. I began to open up to the next lines of the song: "But there's nothing to be afraid of/even when the night changes/it will never change me and you." I know that soon I may not work at the shelter, but that doesn't mean that I can't still be involved in the homeless community. Even when I don't live in Des Moines, that doesn't mean I can't continue to connect with the support system here. Yes, things are changing and I can't stop them from doing so (though I just wish some things would slow down!), but that doesn't mean that everything will change. I know that no matter what, I have a huge cheering squad in Des Moines, rooting for me no matter what. I know that I have grown as a person by making this huge change and I will have worlds open up to me in the next year and a half that I can't even imagine now. And most of all, I know that I will always, always find inspiration in song lyrics.

Giving Up

I'm not entirely sure I have the words to write what I want to write. My heart hurts for the pain of the world, and more selfishly, for the personal challenges I’m facing. Where do you find the words and actions to make things better when it’s so hard to find the good?

I’ll start off by saying I hate change. I am stubborn and would much rather just keep doing things as they always have been than to change things. And when some things are so bright and beautiful (or when you only choose to see that side of things) it’s hard to make the changes for an even brighter future. But change finds us whether we want it to or not. It’s in the sudden meeting in a co-worker's office to hear that she is leaving. It’s in the actions of someone who only feels hatred for others. Change finds us and we get no choice. We can only pause for so long to mourn the change before we have to keep going again.

But to keep going is hard. When things in the world seem to get only blacker, how do you find the light to keep going? 

The last few weeks have been hard both in my personal life and in the world at large. Though I'm generally a cheerful person, it's been very hard to find things to smile about on a daily basis because of all the hurt. This morning I was feeling especially defeated, but I crawled out of bed in the darkness and got dressed in my running clothes nonetheless. I’m not going to get to the finish line of that half marathon by sleeping for an hour more—I have to put one foot in front of the other and keep running. Even when it’s dark out; even when the rain is pouring down; even when I’m tired. My thoughts were spinning for the pain of the world and my own challenges. I was over halfway through my run when I felt tired and stressed and so unsure that I could finish. As the rain streamed down, I contemplated just giving up.

But that’s when it came to me: the illustration to inspire me to keep going, both in that moment and in my life as a whole. As a runner, you only get stronger by continuing to run even when you think you can’t go on. It’s a challenge to go farther, but there’s a quote that says “Your legs are not giving out. Your head is giving up. Keep going.” By continuing to run even when it feels impossible, you get stronger and can run farther. It doesn’t make it any easier, but your mind is weaker than your body.

So that is my meditation for today and the days ahead, when life seems to get me down with the darkness and hurt surrounding me: just keep running, knowing that it will be worth it in the end. Push through the negativity and voices telling me to just give up and keep going to that finish line—whatever that may look like. That’s when I can see how much stronger I have become and the impressive distance I've covered. All because I refused to give up.

Choosing Happiness

I want to start by saying that I am so amazed by the outpouring of support from friends after my last blog post. I was humbled by the conversations it sparked, where I realized I was not the only one who felt the way I did. I heard stories of hurt and confusion as people shared their experiences with me about how real life was so different from the life they had envisioned. And I offered comfort, all the while knowing that maybe it was the simple act of being heard that was most important in those moments.  

I spent a lot of time reading over the past two weeks (that's what infusing "me time" into your schedule does!) and the books that I've devoured have somehow been able to provide some counsel to me. One of the books I read contained this quote: 

"That was just it.  You never knew what lay ahead; the future was one thing that could never be broken, because it had not yet had the chance to be anything.  One minute you're walking through a dark woods, alone, and then the landscape shifts, and you see it. Something wondrous and unexpected, almost magical, that you never would have found had you not kept going." - from Saint Anything by Sarah Dessen. 

I couldn't have said it better myself.  There is something magical out there for me and for all those who are hurting.  I have a piece of art that hangs on the wall in my office that reminds me and all those who see it to "Choose Happiness." It has hung there for close to two years and has gradually turned into my personal mantra.  Even when life seems to be falling apart, there is joy to be found in the clearings of life's forests. It is up to us to open our eyes to find those clearings.

So I'll admit it, I'm a sucker for those personal narratives where the author makes big changes to her life. Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project has helped me to recognize the steps I need to take to make my life full of more joy and happiness. I just finished reading Anna David's Falling for Me and I was reminded that I need to live my life and not wait for someone else to make me happy. I'm not to the point where I feel like I less of a person for not having a partner,  but there is some truth in her premise of making yourself into the best possible version of yourself. Stop simply talking about doing things and start actually doing. Stretch yourself and do the things you didn't think you could do before.  What's holding you back?  When I read that,  I thought to myself,  what was I waiting for? 

Somewhere in the past few weeks I stumbled upon a friend who had created a list of 25 things she wanted to do at 25. Those of you who know me know that I love lists and nothing delights me more than creating a bucket list. Whether it be a list of things to do this fall or 101 things to do in 1001 days, I love the idea of a dream list. So naturally,  I decided to come up with my own list of things to do before I turn 26 (yes, I know I started a month in). I have nothing to wait for and I need to jump in.  I'm sure Anna David and Gretchen Rubin would cheer me on, reminding me to become the most true and authentic version of myself. So here are some of the highlights of my list:
1. Run a half marathon
2. Skydive
3. Go ice skating
4. Attend something political
5. Host a tea party
6. Take a belly dancing class
7. Write to 25 people who inspire me
8. Visit Boston
9. Go camping
10. Build a snowman
11. Start a blog

The next year is sure to be one full of adventure and stretching myself to be Courtney--the Courtney who not only dreams,  but acts on her dreams.  And along the way I can only hope to find true happiness.

Trust the Ride

I was starting to think I had it all together.  I was turning 25, I was surrounded by an amazing group of friends and a job I adore.  I'd met this boy I really liked and I was very involved in my community through church and professional organizations.  To top it off, I was living in Des Moines, my dream city.

But then life happened.  I realized I was over committed and never had a night at home, which after two weeks, began to wear on me. I was neglecting to take care of myself.  And then, a week later, the boy decided to break things off. And suddenly I was a mess. 

All I'm going to say is thank goodness for those amazing friends who have supported me through all the tears of the past few weeks, because without them, I don't know where I would be. But really, is my experience that much different than the average 20-something? Change the details a little, but it seems that most of my friends have felt like their life is falling apart at some point in recent history.  And why? I can't speak for everyone,  but here is what I've discovered about myself the last few weeks.  I've come to realize that I don't know where I'm going and I'm not sure I even know what I want. Where I am now is definitely not where I expected I would be at 25. I'm not in a committed relationship (or planning a wedding,  thank goodness!), nor do I have my master's degree. I'm not living in a trendy loft in downtown Des Moines. But is that really what matters? I have two amazing roommates and a comfortable home. I have a job I love and coworkers who truly understand me--sometimes more than I understand myself.  I am connected to a loving church family that believes in the young people of the world. No, my present doesn't look a thing like the life I'd planned out after college, but that's ok. I'm learning so much about myself and what I am capable of because I am on a path with an unknown destination.  If everything had turned out how I thought it would after college, current me would not have grown as much, nor would she be as happy. 

This isn't to say I'm not scared to death about the future, because I most definitely am. I can't even imagine my life at 30, let alone 50 or 75. I think the tears from the past few weeks come not from losing a boy, but from losing some connection to the 25 year old identity I feel I should have.  I see all the engagements and weddings on Facebook and I just wonder when it'll be my turn. But then I realize that I'm walking down uncharted territory and I have to learn to be OK with that. It's taken me a long time to get to this point, but I need to stop measuring my 25 year old self against everyone else's.  My experience is just as real and vivid and true, even if it doesn't seem to fit the mold of what is expected. In my humble opinion, no one really knows what they are doing,  but those people who embrace the possibility of tomorrow are the ones who seem to have it together.

This summer I had the opportunity to spend a week in Nicaragua. During our week of mission, we also had the opportunity to go zip lining in the rainforest.  At one point I was asked if I wanted to zipline "Superwoman" style--meaning I was hooked to one of our guides with my feet and I flew over the trees with my arms out like Superwoman. After some hesitation,  I said yes. I am so glad I did, as it was the most beautiful experience to be able to feel like you are flying over the trees. To truly enjoy the ride, I had to give up control and trust in those around me.  

And maybe that's the point of all this introspection.  Maybe I'm not supposed to plan out my life so much. That's not to say that I shouldn't dream big dreams,  but maybe I need to just keep putting one foot in front of another and trust in the journey. Maybe when life gives us opportunities,  we need to trust in the ride and say yes. Rich and beautiful life experiences can only come from giving up my planned vision for myself and letting myself say yes to the world.