I’m guessing you guys are probably getting sick of these last minute blog updates, but you know what? Beggars can’t be choosers, right? In any event, I’m blogging at 11:42 P.M., as I just realized that I hadn’t blogged for the day, and yuh-oh…that’s no good!

Today is a lesson in self control. I ended up spending the night at Aaron’s house last night, which wasn’t a big shocker as I was invited to do so in the first place, and I’d packed an overnight bag in the event that I chose to do so. He and Clément went to the early service at church today, and I stayed at his house and slept, as we didn’t get to bed very early…what a crack up, right? It was weird walking around his apartment without him here…I felt like a bit of a creeper, not gonna lie. Whatever, it was totally legit, he’s the one that offered to let me sleep!

We ended up grabbing dinner this evening, and went to a little French restaurant in Saint Michel…I know, I’m starting to sound like a broken record…everything I do seems to take place in Saint Michel! Not to worry, he lives just next door, so it made logical sense.

In any event, I ordered a chicken breast in cream sauce, that came with FRENCH FRIES!

I do believe I’ve talked about my fasting from fries for 2010, right? No french fries for me for the entire year….no fried potatoes, period…except for potato chips, which I know, doesn’t make that much sense…but the rule only applies to freshly fried potatoes. In fact, I know I’ve mentioned this, so now I’m realllly sounding like a broken record.

In any event, it turned out just fine, as Aaron didn’t care for the roast chicken he ordered, so he simply ate my fries and his own, and picked at his chicken…and we called it a day.

Now, what would you have done without that riveting little tidbit of information? You’d likely have cried yourself to sleep, as you’d have missed my blog entry for the day. Just saying.

Hope you guys have a great weekend! Thanks for checking out adaminparis.com, as always!

Adam

I’m sitting at my friend Aaron’s apartment in Saint Michel, with Mr. Clément Barbu…I was randomly invited over for dinner and I was just sitting here discussing randomness with them, when it suddenly hit me…

“Oh my GOODNESS GUYS! I HAVEN’T BLOGGED YET TODAY AND IT IS NEARLY MIDNIGHT!” Of course, I still had about an hour before my deadline, but nevertheless…I nearly missed a blog! And seeing as today is only day three, that would simply not be acceptable…and I’m committed to this thing!

So let’s share exciting news from today…hummmm….that means not so much. I just posed the question, “What’s my exciting news for today to the two guys sitting beside me,”to which Mr. Aaron responded, “Hum? You found out you were pregnant?” Not so much. I’m not pregnant…but it’s a nice try Reynolds.

Ok, let’s see…there must be something, there must be! OH, hey! I bought sugar donuts today at Monoprix, one of the supermarkets here! They weren’t all that delicious, but they were donuts nonetheless. There we have it! My exciting news for the day!

Anyway, I apologize for my lack of effort…but hey, I managed to share a few paragraphs with you guys, and even took the time to do so when with my friends…thanks for letting me use your computer Aaron!

Hope you guys are having a killer weekend. I promise to be more riveting…well, to try in any case, very soon!

++

adam

I simply realized whilst sitting on the train that I hadn’t yet blogged today, and since I’m only on day two of my second attempt to blog for one hundred days straight, I figured that simply wouldn’t do! Thus, I find myself writing to you all via iPhone
I thought I’d pose a simple, rhetorical question today…Doesn’t it feel great to be loved?

My precious friend Nikki sent me a little valentine from Nebraska the other day, and I can’t begin to tell you how big the smile on my face was. There is such enormous power in simply letting those in your life know that you care, don’t you think?

I spent some wonderful moments with a friend this afternoon, and I can’t even express how much good it did for my heart. Sometimes, it is so easy to get caught up in the scary stresses of day to day life, and the opportunity to put it all aside for a few brief moments and simple revel in the beauty of friendship…that’s pretty enormous.

Yes, just simple thoughts from yours truly today…but thoughts that come from the heart…and it doesn’t get better than that, does it?!

Have a great weekend everybody!
Adam

I want to leave a legacy…how will they remember me? Did I choose to love…

Today’s entry is not what I imagined myself writing. I made a commitment to blog for one hundred days straight, which thankfully was not a New Year’s resolution, for it quickly fell to the wayside…my internet at home went out for a bit, my Mac has been giving me issues…in short, my posts simply didn’t happen. I’m restarting today…maybe the second time will be the charm? This post serves as post one.

In any case, that’s not why I’m writing…not in the least bit. I find myself in the computer lab in my university, hacking away on a Windows P.C., something that feels entirely unfamiliar to me. I stumbled down here after an incredibly intriguing discussion in prostitution and cinema…I’d planned to spend some time in the lab, as I have another engagement later this evening, and it doesn’t make any sense for me to head home between class and that activity.  Nevertheless, I didn’t think I’d find myself writing about death today.

We watched yet another film featuring a prostitute today in class, and as we analyzed the material following the film, one of my classmates asked the instructor about her feelings on what happens after we die.  I have an admittedly less secular viewpoint than many of my peers and professors in the academic world, so I caught my breath, waiting for her response.

“I believe…that as long as your memory lives on, as long as people remember who you were…you are still here. You are still influencing, and moving, and changing things.” she responded. She went on to detail why exactly she believes what she does…and I find myself intrigued by her simple response.

Of course, I don’t share her exact perspective…I choose to think that life is not simply a game of accomplishing something that people will remember you for later down the road, but that’s not what my professor was trying to express. Rather, she simply was speaking about the importance of your life not being a story that revolves around you. “Life is an exchange…it’s about receiving from others, yes…but it’s also about what you give.” she shared.

I found my palms sweating and my hands shaking as I contemplated her words. Perhaps that seems a bit overboard to you, but it’s the response I found nonetheless.

In December, I had the privilege of receiving a heartfelt card from a precious lady who is no longer a part of my day to day existence, but who was in an academic capacity in the past. She wrote to me for no reason but to encourage me to continue pressing on in the same manner, spilling compliment upon compliment about my endeavors and behaviors. It was an absolutely precious gift, one that I felt so incredibly moved and honored to receive.

In writing a response to that very woman a few days ago, I reminded her that her work is not simply about the papers she grades, nor the lessons she shares with her students. Rather, it’s about the brief glimpses of her beautiful spirit that she shares with those around her. Perhaps it is for but a moment, a tiny blip in the great scope of life in its entirety, and yet…those moments have the power to transform another for the rest of his lifetime.

I don’t understand why some moments, moments we might be tempted to categorize as pivotal or foundational in some way…why those moments often fade away into oblivion, nor do I understand why some seemingly routine instances are engraved into our minds, souvenirs we carry with us everywhere we go. I do know, however, that the power of influence that reaches far beyond today is a most precious gift.

Sitting in my prostitution class, I wondered…”If I passed away tomorrow, what would people remember?” I imagine the little groups of friends at my funeral laughing, reminiscing about how bizarre my sense of humor was, likely laughing at some random moment of insanity that scarred them. I know there are people who would say they admired certain attributes about my character, whilst others would discuss the accomplishments I’ve been fortunate to achieve thus far in my life.

The thing is…none of that really matters. There is this beautiful song by Nichole Nordeman called “Legacy.” If you’ve never heard it, do yourself a favor and click that link. It has some decidedly Christian overtones, and I understand that some of you may not relate to that particular aspect of it…but the beauty of the understanding she sings about is something that we should all be so fortunate as to grasp. Our lives have to point to something bigger…or all purpose is lost.

I immediately started humming that song in my head when we began this discussion in class, and I even searched through the archives of my site, as I wondered if I might have mentioned it before…I found one entry, from July of 2007. Reading my words, I felt overwhelmed by my resolve to keep pushing, to keep loving. If I remember that month correctly, it was one of great heartache…one of great pain, and one of fear in a certain sense. I was forced to learn how to let go of something I loved, even when it was the last thing I wanted to do…and to focus on the enormous path ahead of me.

You can sense my youthful naivety in my words, and I can’t promise that I was particularly poignant…but what I can tell you is that those words ring just as true today as they did to a scared little boy getting ready to fly across the ocean and start a new life in England.

Your life has purpose, and whether you realize the implications of that simple fact or not, it doesn’t change the truth in those words. You have worth, so enormous that no price can be placed on your head. You are valuable, you are beautiful, you are powerful, you are CAPABLE…no matter your circumstance, no matter the ugly baggage you carry from the past, no matter what. No outside factors hold power over the magnificence of your heart.

Sometimes life is just hard…and unfair. I was walking home in the freezing rain earlier this week, cursing myself for leaving my umbrella at home. My face stung as each little drop felt like a bullet, stinging my cheeks. As I quickly pecked the building code to open my front door, I noticed an elderly homeless woman who walks my streets, day in and out. There she was as always, making her way down the street in the rain.

I sat there and wondered to myself…how does she have the strength? I can barely muster the courage to walk the three minutes from the metro to my apartment building…how can she walk aimlessly, with the simple hope that she’ll survive another day?

Life is heavy and heartbreaks abound, but I choose to believe that when we have the ability to do something…we have a responsibility to act. A quiet prayer may not have been much in that instance, but it was what I had to give…and so I quickly stammered through my simple words.

Will that simple prayer give someone reason to remember me someday? Perhaps not…but we must act, not so that we will be remembered…but so that today counts. And if today counts, tomorrow will look back on the memory with a fond smile.

Act. Stand up and act today. Don’t get caught up in the stress of all of life’s details, don’t shiver in fear of what the repercussions might be. Choose to be somebody who will step out of the crowd, who will look something scary in the face and scream at the top of your lungs, “I will NOT live in fear of you!” Beyond all things, don’t lose grasp of the power behind your value. You have something to give. Maybe that means you’ll smile and tell the cashier at Walmart to have a beautiful day. Maybe it means you’ll tell your waitress to keep the change, or perhaps you’ll send a quick email to a friend, simply to say you’re thinking about them.

Regardless of how you do it, choose to act. Leave a legacy…we might not all have the name recognition afforded to Van Gogh, Freud, or Shakespeare…but we all have the ability to shift and move our world. I’m in…how about you?

Today was day four of university…I’ve had all of my classes now, so it’s just a question of settling into the routines now. Today was Critical Writing, where we reviewed the first four books of Homer’s The Odyssey…party time. Then, it was on to Advanced Grammar, and finally Prostitution and Film.

I have had a crazy week in a lot of different senses, and one of my crazy moments from last night was simply too great to pass up sharing with you all. I was hanging out with an awesome group of friends last night, and as we headed into the métro at Saint Michel, I was absolutely bouncing off the walls with energy. If you’ve ever had the…opportunity (read:privilege, duh!) to meet Adam in one of those moments, you likely found yourself rapt with fear, elation, and absolute confusion…at least, that’s what I’d guess one might feel. I feel entirely normal in those moments.

In any case, we were waiting in the métro, standing around talking…whilst I did acrobatic jumps and acted really crazy. My friends were laughing, because the man and woman in the ticket office were totally laughing at my insanity.

Anyhow, after about twenty minutes, I made my way over to the ticket booth, as I needed some passes for the métro. I acted totally normal as I asked the woman for the tickets, but I started moving around a bit, as I do when I’m fuuuuull of energy. Imagine my surprise, when the woman in the ticket booth started DANCING with me! Oh buddy, it was crazy times. She was rolling her arms, doing disco moves…and it was pretty much my favorite thing ever.

I started laughing and said, “Oh goodness! Sorry, I just have so much energy!”

She responded and said, “That’s evident! So what are you on? Drugs?”

I looked at her like she was nuts and said, “Oh noooo! It’s just the joy of being aliiiive! I promise you, I just spent the entire night with a group of friends from church, they’d totally vouch for me…I just LOVE life!” The woman started laughing, and handed me the tickets, and I joyfully wished her a happy evening. It was the best moment ever. I made a new friend, in the form of a forty-some year old woman at the métro station.

Pluuuus, today in French class…my instructor handed back our diagnostic essays, which we wrote the other day to gauge our levels…and she said, “Oh, you’ve been studying French for a very long time obviously, your written expression is superb.” I was so happy I could have burst, but instead I said…”Oh no, I’ve only been studying for a few years, I just love the language and hang out with lots of French people.”

“Well, it shows. Keep it up.” she told me. “You definitely have one of the highest French levels in this course.”

Oh yeahhhhhh! PARTY!

Final thought for the day….I thought I would want to do the spring musical, as it would a time to have fun and be crazy…and today, I saw the posters up at school…RENT. Hmm. I have reallllly mixed emotions about that one. Any thoughts?

Hope you guys are doing greeeeat!

Today is Wednesday, which means my day is blissfully free of classes…oh yes, you heard that right. It may only be day three of being a student again, but I’m already celebrating my days off, so sue me. I’m going to skip over the run through of my day with you, as there truly isn’t much to report…the fridge has finished defrosting, I ate some fruit for breakfast, and…that’s about it. Riveting, I know!

Rather, today I thought I’d share some of my thoughts about this adventure that I call my life. I’ve said many a time that I’ve never seen the past few years as anything more than routine. Yes, I moved abroad and started a new life, but it doesn’t feel like a big deal…it feels like an exciting endeavor, like something that brought about great challenges and incredible moments of elation, amongst one million other things. Still, it doesn’t feel like I tackled the task of a lifetime.

Often, people will tell me that such an understanding means I’m exceptionally independent. Frankly, I came to that conclusion a long time ago, but it’s nice that they recognize some of the roots that make me who I am. Nevertheless, that independent streak seems to be a reoccurring theme, one that I couldn’t hide from, even if I wanted to do so.

Along with that independence comes the “control freak” part of me. It kind of makes me laugh, because there are so many areas in which I don’t feel like a control freak in the least bit…but then, there are others in which I know that I am the one in charge, so help me.

If you look at my life, you’ll see the influence of those sentiments written all over the place. I am stubbornly confident that I know exactly what I’m doing, even when I’m hopelessly lost. I put little value on what other people tell me I can and can’t do. I am the one steering this ship, and the people yelling at me about their own perspectives and opinions are simple background noise.

This is all fine and good until something changes…when my heart connects to a situation. You see, making decisions about universities, and which city I’m going to live in tomorrow…those aren’t necessarily things that pull on my emotions. Oh sure, they make me excited, they fill me with wonder and fascination…but they don’t make me emotional, per se.

No, most often, my intense emotions are reserved for situations that relate to another individual. I am confident in going about my daily routine, I am secure in who and what I’m choosing to be…but the game changes entirely when I become enthralled by another person, and the impact that they bring about in my world.

Suddenly, my very analytical mind goes haywire, and I’m left feeling entirely out of control and codependent and…one million other things that I never like to feel. I’ve become so comfortable with my own independence, that when it’s “threatened” by the realization that a relationship with another person jeopardizes my totalitarian-like grip on the reins of control, I flip out a little bit. “Oh my goodness, I can’t do this!” I think to myself. “I want to curl up under the covers and never come back out! It’s so much easier that way.”

The most ironic element of all is that as much as my brain freaks out when I realize control has slipped from grasp, my heart kind of loves it. Of course, I don’t enjoy the conflict, nor do I enjoy my brain’s incessant questioning and total meltdown. Sometimes, the emotions that are born out of that are also very unpleasant, but these aren’t the things I’m referencing. Rather, I’m talking about the simple act of choosing to give up some of my control and share it with someone else.

Have you ever driven a car with a manual transmission in tandem with someone? One person controls the pedals of the car and the steering wheel, relying on the other person to shift gears when necessary. Both individuals are just as valuable…one is controlling the direction and velocity, but the other holds control over the vehicle’s ability to advance.

Relationships are a lot like that…if the person you’re driving with shifts into the wrong gear, you’re going to encounter a ton of resistance and some unpleasant moments that may eventually cause the entire thing to come to a halt. On the flip side, however, if the two are in the same Accord®, everything works together in harmony. Sorry, I couldn’t resist the pun…I’m sooo clever, right?

In the end, each of us, whether laid-back or insanely control-centric, has a decision to make. Will you yield your dictator’s power for the opportunity to build something more powerful than that which you’re capable of creating on your own, or will you stay holed up in your tower, reigning your little kingdom solely by your own volition? If my own experience might serve as any sort of guidance, I’d encourage you to let your guard down from time to time. Sure, it might send your “control system” into absolute mayhem mode, and in the end, your heart may even get bruised…but the risk is so worth the potential joy and satisfaction that lies on the other side. Trust me, you’ll never want to drive a car all alone ever again.

Class was fine, we did some basic exercises and went through the syllabus and introductory stuff again…same drill. There were some people with some really frightening French accents in my class, but they made me feel better about my own life. Hey, another’s loss is my gain, right?

After class, I made my way home. I tweeted about possibly running, though I thought it was pretty chilly and I thought I would shower instead. My precious Australian friend Zoë, who has made many an appearance on this particular blog, sent me a message almost immediately after, encouraging me to run after all, as it would make me feel fabulouuuus. Somehow, I guess that did the trick.

I got home, changed into my running gear, and hit the streets for the first time in my longer that I would like to admit! I decided to ease myself back into the routine and do a simple 5k, and I felt so freaking amazing afterward! Oh man, what have I been missing out on?! My legs were definitely complaining as I hiked the 6 flights of stairs to my little closet of an apartment, and I’m sure my body is going to really be mad at me tomorrow, howeeeeeever….I did it. Yay me!

I showered after my run, did a few things online, and decided that I’d had enough with not being able to see the floor of my apartment. I tidied up a bit, putting off the great task that I knew I needed to tackle ASAP…the fridge.

You see, I didn’t clean out the entire fridge before I went home in December….I mean, sure…I threw out a lot of junk…but there was still a lot of stuff in there. Additionally, I hadn’t cleaned it…well, in a very long time previous to my vacation. As you can imagine, the odor coming from the refrigerator was nothing short of vulgar when I arrived back in Paris 8 days ago. My friend Aaron helped me bring my things home from the airport, and he had the unfortunate opportunity to witness the stench with me…let’s just say, I think he’ll back me up when I say it was putrid…and that’s putting it very nicely.

Grocery shopping when you don’t have a functioning refrigerator is really tricky, so I decided that I needed to just bite the bullet and get it over with. I threw out things ranging from pickles I bought at the beginning of last year, to yogurt that expired in October…yuck. Additionally, there was something growing in the produce drawer.

Aaron had advised me to use bleach when cleaning out the fridge, lest the odor remain after it was all said and done. I took out all of the drawers and bleached them individually, and bleached the entire interior as well. Scrubbing the drawers, there were several times I physically gagged into the garbage. The scent of bleach, mixed with rotting…something or other…was enough to make my gag reflex go mad. I was nervous that I was actually going to puke, but I managed to make it through without major issue. In the end, I figured that since it’s now empty, now is probably a good time to defrost too, so I currently have one sparkling clean fridge thawing out. Yay me!

So, hey! I went to class today, went on a nice little run, and cleaned the fridge! How ’bout that!? I can only wonder what the remaining hours in my day shall bring!

Just in case you needed some kind of reminder….Christmas is dead and vacation is along with it. I spotted this today on my little lunch break in between classes, along with many other Christmas trees tossed onto the curb….but oh, I’m getting ahead of myself!

So I went to bed at midnight last night, which is kind of like a small miracle. I thought…you know? Tomorrow is my first day at a new university. I’m going to get a full night of sleep.

My alarm went off at ten, and I still didn’t get up until 11:20 A.M. Oops. My first class started at 12:20, and I knew I needed to give myself a good thirty minutes on the métro, so as to make sure I was a bit early on day one.

I got up, took a quick shower…was doing a-ok on time. Then, I decided to verify what building my class was in, and I checked my schedule and BAM….realized that my class started at 12:10, not 12:20. OMG! I mean, I know…it’s just ten minutes…but I was soooo banking on those ten minutes, hello!?

So, I ran out of the house and down the street to the métro…and stressed like a freak on the way there. I knew it was day one, so of course the professors are going to be lenient, but still…who wants to be late on day one? Somehow, I magically arrived at 12:11 and the class hasn’t started yet. Phew!

It was pretty much the normal routine…review the syllabus, introduce yourself, yada yada….Class one is a critical thinking class where we have to read Homer’s The Odyssey, Shakespeare’s The Tempest, and Flaubert’s Madame Bovary, amongst a few others. Sounds like a real party, right? Gotta love fulfilling gen ed requirements! =P In my class of ten, there were students from Spain, France, Japan, Portugal, and Germany. I love my international world =)

My professors do seem to be a bit essay happy, as we were asked to do a critical writing piece in class on day one…party, right? I never eat breakfast either, and I thought I was going to have a heart attack when my stomach made this HUGE rumble in the middle of class. Oops.

This led to me running out and buying pain au chocolat in the 15 break between my classes, which I gobbled up like a fool and then ran back to class. Pain au chocolat is my crack.

Class two was “Advanced French Grammar.” It was basically the same drill…brief introductions, syllabus review…and another essay, this time introducing myself a bit to the instructor…not a real tricky thing. I think it was just to get a general idea of our French levels.

Third and final class was “Prostitution et Le Cinema” (do I really need to translate that?)…there was no essay this time, simply a long discussion about how prostitution is portrayed in film, and a quick rundown of what we’re going to review this semester. I think we’re going to look at some intensely humanistic subject matter, but I’m kind of intrigued. Our professor talked a bit about this piece we’re going to look at in-depth, that reviews the idea of our entire lives being a sort of prostitution. We are constantly selling ourselves for money…i.e. selling our capacity to work for money.

In any case, it shall be an interesting semester, of this I’m sure.

P.S.-I’m at 3% of my 100 days of blogging goal =)

This is blog two out of one hundred…gotta say, not too shabby! That’s like 2% of my goal! Frankly, I shouldn’t be celebrating this early, but you know…whatever! =P I think maybe I’ll just add my blog to the rotation I check when I first flip my computer open and perhaps after one hundred days, this shall feel totally normal!

I think I gave you guys enough to chew on yesterday in terms of my current thoughts about life, so today…we’re tackling easy subjects! Go read yesterday’s post if you’re looking for meaty content.

Today, I’m sharing two moments of my day with you…moment A took place on the métro at about 7 AM this morning. In many ways, I felt like I related to this girl bent over on the métro…I mean sure, she was probably that way because of a bit of over-indulgence of a particular beverage…but I bet she had a nuit blanche (all nighter) last night, just as I’m rather prone to doing. I think I’m averaging about 2 a week these days…oh, to be young!

Moment B took place in an absolutely disgusting Halal (Muslim-approved food….think Kosher for the Jews) restaurant…my cheeseburger was nnnnasssty…and boy-oh-boy was I jealous of this big tray of fries that I wasn’t allowed to touch! You see, a friend of mine named Nikki and I made this little New Year’s resolution that we’re not eating any fried potatoes this year (save for potato chips)…and though it’s only day 17, I so wanted to crack. What do you reckon? Think I’ll make it an entire year?

Tomorrow-first day of class. Updates will definitely be coming!

Having said all of that, I’ve got to admit it…when I lose the capacity to define a situation with either the written or spoken word, I feel incredibly vulnerable. Words are a powerful and infinitely useful tool for showing our innermost desires and understandings to those around us, but they can also be a crutch that allows us to hide.

I returned to Paris on Monday, a mere five days ago. Frankly, the first week back is always my least favorite part of coming back from vacation. Those long four weeks that felt like eternity in the Iowan wilderness suddenly feel as if they were four brief minutes. I find myself laughing at the silly things my little sisters did while sitting on the métro, my heart grows heavy as I think about waiting six months before I share another movie night with American friends. It’d be ridiculous to pretend that my life is anything but an enormous blessing, but learning how to “let go” all over again often takes an enormous amount of effort on my behalf.

Week one was filled with some really special moments…and some really scary moments too. I’ve just transferred into a new university in Paris, so one might guess that getting adjusted to my new environment was one of the frightening moments. Unfortunately, you’d be mistaken. In fact, as this is the THIRD (and final, I swear!) university transfer I’ve completed thus far, new courses, professors, and classmates feels almost routine.

Rather, it was those special moments that really shook me up. “Wait a second, Adam. That doesn’t make any sense!” I can imagine you protesting. Perhaps you’re absolutely right. Perhaps the special moments shouldn’t be those that scare me, but some of the instances in which I felt entirely fulfilled and excited about the journey that is my life, also sparked something inside of me that greatly resembled fear.

When was the last time you ate a really delicious chocolate chip cookie? On New Year’s Eve at my family’s home in Iowa, some family friends came over to celebrate the holiday with us. Amongst the platters of goodies and snacks that arrived for the party was a huge bowl of chocolate chip cookies that one of my mom’s closest friends named Jean had prepared. As I made the rounds, gathering my munchies for the evening, I politely added one of Jean’s cookies to my plate.

It was mere seconds later, when I bit into that cookie, that fireworks went off in my head. “Oh. My. Goodness!” I exclaimed. “That was the most delicious thing I have ever eaten!” The bittersweet chocolate, combined with the chewy cookie…it’s making my mouth water even now! I must have snuck a good…oh, I don’t know…five, ten…seventeen cookies from that bowl over the course of the night.

My parents made a pretty big financial investment several years ago, purchasing a business in our small community in Iowa. My mom stepped into the daily management role, a position that consumed enormous amounts of time and energy. My dad has long been the resident chef in our house, and when she’d take a bite of a delicious meal at the end of a long day, she would often exclaim, “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

“Shannon, it’s chicken noodle soup.” my dad would respond. “What did you eat today?”

“Err…” my mom would respond, as we all laughed.

The stress of running a new business would cause her to forget to eat, so that by the time she finally had dinner, her entire body was rejoicing. Now, I can assure you that my dad can cook a mean bowl of just about anything, but it was not solely the taste of that food that brought forth such a reaction. Rather, it was the taste combined with the nourishment that caused her to be so excited.

This blog came about when I moved to London, after I had already graduated from high school. Though I’m sure I’ve included anecdotes here and there, the majority of the content I’ve shared with those reading my words has been about experiences post-secondary school. While high school was an all-in-all positive experience, there were certain needs and expecations that I recognized small town Iowa was going to have a difficult time meeting. If you’ve ever met me in person, and even if you haven’t, you likely know that I don’t really fit inside any of the social boxes we often try to place people into. I am me…all of the quirks included.

One of the things I so desperately wanted in high school was relationships in which I was able to dig past the “surface” junk that often clutters our lives, and get to the core of another’s heart. I wanted to have the opportunity to know someone in a manner that extended past the everyday hello.

I have been so intensely blessed by the relationships I’ve had the opportunity to develop since beginning my university studies. I could write for hours on end about the discoveries, revelations, and simple moments of elation that have resulted from meeting people from all over the globe who have challenged and encouraged me in incredible ways.

Though each person has left a mark of some kind, there have been a few rare encounters in which my heart felt overwhelmed…moments in which I struggled to remember the simplest of things. My emotions ran the entire spectrum, as if I’d just won some sort of relational lottery. I wanted to cry, I wanted to dance…I wanted to run around like a fool and shout from the rooftops.

Without going into too many details, I’ve had a few of those moments in the last few months. The funny thing is that such things have a tendency to sneak up on you when you least expect it. You may wake up one morning, thinking today feels just like any other…and then, bam. It happens…something changes.

The thing is…people and their energy and resources are not like chocolate chip cookies. Those cookies were free for the taking, sitting in their shiny silver bowl. If I had wanted to eat all fifty of them, nobody would have said a single word…though poor Jean would have thought me most impolite! Relationships however, are not a take, take, take sort of scenario. They are two way streets, with nuances discovered every single day. The speed limit, pavement type, the little twists and turns…heck, the very direction…they’re all elements that have to be defined as life progresses.

Just like my hungry mom after a long day at work, sometimes our hearts really do respond out of a need for nourishment. A simple friendship can feel like the holy grail, because something you had so desperately seeked finally came about. On the other side, there are hungers that are created out of the simple taste of the food.

Have you ever felt like you weren’t hungry in the least bit, only to smell a freshly baked Pizza Hut pizza and determine you’ve never been hungrier in your entire life? Perhaps the image of one tearing into a pizza is a bit scary when it’s applied to the principle of creating relationships with those around us, but it’s a simple word picture that really feels appropriate for myself in this moment. I didn’t realize I was “hungry” in a certain sense, but now that I smelled the freshly baked bread, I’m certain that I could eat a horse.

I suppose that’s where fear can come about. When you eat the entire pizza, and still want another slice…you have to ask yourself, “where am I going with this?” How do we find the balance between a healthy level of intensity and one that borders on obsessive compulsion? A rose bush needs water and fertilizer to grow, but if you leave the garden hose on all night and stack a massive pile of manure over its roots, your rose bush is not going to flourish in the way that it was intended. Instead, you’re going to have a dead bush and a big mess.

As I work on figuring out my own relationships and their development, I hope you too are looking at things from a new perspective. It’s a new year…time to tackle the big issues, right?!

On a lighter note, my pitiful blogging habits over the last few months have to be overhauled. I’ve been reading the blogs of a few friends who have committed to 100 straight days of blogging, and though I’m a bit late, I’m going to throw my name into the hat. I’m certainly not going to write a blog like this every day, and you may only get a simple photo or something from my day…but I’m going to give it a shot. 100 days, here we come. Actually, 99…