Again

So, after returning from a trip to Arkansas this past week I came home to an interesting situation.

Evie, Lydia, and Tyler are all moving back to Denver. This was decided in about 2 days. We are going to start moving out this week.

Once again, I need to find a new place to live. I am beginning to think that Costa Rica put some weird spell on me. Ever since I came back from Costa Rica, I haven't lived anywhere longer than 3 months. I'm beginning to wonder when this cycle of not knowing where I'll be one week to the next will end.

I'm going to finish the week out at Chipotle and then go stay with my parents for a bit while I figure out where to go next.

Even though this is all really sudden and fairly hectic, I feel that this needed to happen. Evie, Lydia, Tyler, and I were all coming to similar conclusions at the same time. It was to the point where we all couldn't really deny that we are no longer supposed to be here.

Any suggestions as to where I should go?

Earth Week

I have decided that I want to be a person who is constantly creating. I am not sure of very many things, but one thing that I am sure of is that nothing brings me a deeper sense of fulfillment than creating.

Creating beauty.
Creating genuine interactions.
Creating art.
Creating connections.
Creating music.

Yesterday I went home to help my mom plant some raspberry bushes and take pictures for my parent's bakery.




Great form, right?














And then there's this...

Reasons to be Alive

My stream of experiences continually remind me to see the fragility of balance.

At the same time, I can't help but recognize the ability of unsuspecting resilience.


These are the only flowers of this type that live in our yard.


This three-legged cat takes care of me.

It is Spring.

Here's to you Little Angie

I went home yesterday to do some photography for my parent's bakery website. Being at home has made me really think about my past. I walked around our land and roamed into our barns. It was strange really allowing myself to think about all that has happened within the past 10-12 years of my life. I found old diaries and journals from 8-10 year old Angie. In one of my old diaries I came across a letter I had written to myself in the future. The letter was composed of questions asking about what type of person I had become. It really was quite humbling to remember that side of myself.

After all of this reflection on my past I came to a solid conclusion: Little Angie was way cooler than the current Angie. These are some of the things that Little Angie did that I feel the need to find a way of doing again.

- Plant and take care of a strawberry patch
- Sit in trees for hours listening and observing birds
- Make swings hanging off of trees out of rope and scrap wood
- Build benches out of tree stumps
- Lay in the backyard at night and try to pick out constellations
- Play the piano for at least an hour everyday
- Write stories
- Draw
- Have wrestling competitions on the trampoline/stuff my shirt with pillows and have sumo wrestling matches
- Explore
- Run just for the thrill of seeing how fast I can get my legs to move
- Slide on my stomach in puddles while it's raining
- Let my sisters tie me up with ropes and hang me from the rafters in our barn so that I can jump off the hay-loft in an attempt to fly
- Go on bike rides
- Choreograph dances on my rollerblades
- Sew pillows
- Cry while watching The Lion King
- Perform marriage ceremonies with our cats
- Wear panda sweaters
- Allow myself to get excited about little things







Here's to you Little Angie.

Energy healing?

I had an interesting past week.

Sunday night I was working at the cash register. We were pretty slow and there was only one couple going through the line. When the girl came up to the cash register we started to talk a little bit. Some how it was brought up that I just moved to Kansas City. She told me that she was hosting a female craft night on Monday and asked me if I would like to come. I've been looking for as many ways of getting plugged into the city anyway, so I agreed to come.

On Monday I showed up to the craft night with my knitting in hand (I'm knitting a pillow). Aside from myself, four other girls showed up. The original initiative for the night was to work on crafts, but instead we just talked the entire time. As we were talking about our backgrounds, we came to the realization that not a single one of us was from Kansas City and had no idea how we ended up here. We collectively came from Swtizerland, Michigan, Texas, and Western Kansas. The more we discussed the more we realized how we have all been thinking about very similar ideas as of recent.

The girl who invited me is learning how to be an energy healer. From what she explained, an energy healer is a person who observes energies of different types and helps people learn how to channel their energy in healthy ways. She told me the reason she invited me was because she could sense my energy and felt a unique type of energy from me. I'm not quite sure how to feel about this type of stuff. It slightly creeped me out, but at the same time I also felt a strange type of comfort.

As the night continued, all of us began to realize that we were all on the same page. We had all come from completely different backgrounds but were coming to the same conclusions about life. How do you explain this?

We started to discuss the idea of collective consciousness and the changing of the seasons. Not only that, but the idea that we are all one. The same thread of truth and ideas is flowing all around but in different forms and with different terms attached. We need to stop finding reasons to separate and disattach ourselves from everything that is important. We can't continue to believe that we are autonomous.

The lady from Switzerland was pretty much preaching. She had also studied energy reading and she started going around the room telling everyone what their strength was. Everyone had a fairly practical and obvious strength. One girl was a giver. One girl was a library: a source of information. I can't remember what the other girl was... And then she just looked at me straight in the eye and said, "You are a fairy. You are magical. You have a really intense communication with nature." WHAT?! What is that supposed to mean? How do you react to a comment like that?

I know this all sounds really strange, and I can't really deny that it isn't. But, as I was looking back on our conversation I couldn't help but see the connection between Christianity and these "energies." Energies are pretty much a different term for spiritual gifts and the idea of the body of Christ: learning how to develop our gifts the best that we can to serve a role that needs to be filled. The energy healer was talking about how she has a lot of healing to do and how she feels as though she cannot help guide other people until she has healed more herself.

It's all the same! I felt like I was in a Bible study minus all the Christianese terms.

I'm sure that there are many people that would disagree with me on this, but there is something going on that I can't really explain. For the past year I have been learning the same theme over and over again from people and nature communicated in different ways. It's to the point where I absolutely cannot pretend to not observe this.

Anyway, I'm through sounding like a "stereotypical hippie" for the day.

Here are some pictures.



I looked out my window to discover this majestic being.



This is where we do our grocery shopping.



Evie, Tyler, and I went on a walk the other day and there was a dog on a roof barking at us named Murphy.

I need to get out of this coffee shop. There is a creeper guy here drawing pictures of sexy anime girls who keeps on eye balling me. Seriously?

Some days I get the weird feeling that my life isn't real, but more that it is some strange sort of cruel/strange assortment of experiences that is here for another's entertainment. The amount of experiences (strange ones) I have had within the past year have really been ridiculous. I have absolutely no idea how to digest all of what has happeend and is happening. If I tried, I couldn't even come close to calculating the amount of experiences that I have just thought to myself, "What the hell? Is this seriously happening? Am I crazy?" I have a difficult time not feeling like a cynical old man who scoffs at everything that crosses my path.

Chipotle is still ridiculous as ever. I'm pretty sure I could easily write every blog about my experiences at Chipotle. I suppose that I really don't want to accept the hard truth that I am no longer the consumer of Chipotle burritos, but they indeed are consuming me. I am planning on asking my manager for less hours today. 38 hours a week at Chipotle is just enitrely too much. Just too much. It's getting to the point where when I get up in the morning and look in the mirror I can't help but expect to see a Chipotle burrito staring back that will say to me, "You are mine. With chips and guacamole."

Sidenote: Why the hell is this coffee shop playing instrumental inspirational music? What is this, Hobby Lobby?

Two main ideas that have been constrantly recurring in my life revolve around these two concepts:

1. When to let go and when to hold on.
2. What to do when you realize that everything that you've been told to want isn't what you desire at all.

Not that I am opposed to talking to other people who have completely different ways of thinking than I do, but I can't deny that there is absolutely nothing more comforting than talking to a person who I don't have to offer an explanation to every little detail of my life to. To be around a person who really just understands.

A huge part of me wants to be in school where it is easy to have friends, be in a community, feel some sort of stability, and have knowledge handed to me constantly. But for some reason, even though I do desire this, it is not something that can settle with me. It is a frightening thing to discover how vulnerable you actually are when so much of what previously gave you stability is no longer present.

These words have given me a lot of hope as of recent.

On Joy and Sorrow: Kahlil Gibran

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which
has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping
for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, "Joy is greater thar sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."

But I say unto you, they are inseparable.

Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

So long winter.

January and February are finally over. Praise the Lord.

January and February are always undoubtedly difficult months for me. For some reason for the past few years it has proven to be this way. I'm pretty sure that whenever I die it will be in either January or February. Even at the age of 20 I almost lost my will to live. I can only imagine what would've happened if I were 75 years old.

It snowed here on Saturday. Two days after it had been 70 degrees. Of course. I thought I had made it through the winter completely escaping my annual ice wipe out (yes, I really do have an annual wipe out). When I was leaving for work I was running across the street and hit the ground pretty hard. Luckily, after playing volleyball for 5 years I learned how to fall without killing myself (pretty much the only valuable thing I learned from sports).

I've been working on writing a new accordion song. I think I pretty much have all the music written for it. Now it's just a matter of writing lyrics that I am happy with. We are planning on having house shows some time in the near future. I would really to work on creating an environment where artists feel as though they are being supported and encouraged in comparison to critiqued and compared. Sharing personal artwork is terrifying enough by itself. I think that it if were presented in a way that was seen as more of vulnerable service to others instead of a terrifying judging fest more people would be willing to share their talents. I think sometimes we all forget that the talents we feel self-conscious about are actually appreciated by other people.

Yesterday marked my 2 weeks at Chipotle. I'm not really quite sure how to feel about working there yet. Most of the people I work with are really nice, but since I've been there two people have been fired and one more will be fired soon. I've been told that I am one of the first employees of the "new wave" of Chipotle. I'm not really sure how to feel about this. It's nice to have a job to cover all my expenses and to have a steady amount of income, but it has been a long time since I have had such a consistent job.

Since I am an avid people watcher, I have found the variety of people who eat at Chipotle very interesting. All different ethnicities, social classes, ages, etc... And, believe it or not... There are people who actually eat at Chipotle EVERY DAY. Yes, it's true.

There was a man and his son that came in yesterday who I found rather amusing:

The father came up to the cash register with a sly little smirk of pride on his face. He had this strange spark in his eye. When I handed him his receipt he leaned in and we had this conversation:

Father: "This is my son's first Chipotle burrito EVER."
Me: "Wow, this is really quite the monumental occasion." <-- Rather sarcastically.
Father: "I know. I remember when I took my first bite of a Chipotle burrito. It's something I'll never forget."
Me: "Well, I'm glad to know that you are passing the torch to your son."
Father: "Yes, I'm sure that his burrito will be cherished as much as my first one was."

As they walked to their table the father put his hand on his son's shoulder with a beaming face. After they left I felt as though I had just witnessed some form of passage into manhood.

It's entirely too ridiculous how seriously people take their Chipotle burritos.