Monday, December 31, 2012


I've avoided this blog for the last year(ish). Not because I didn't have anything to say, but because what I had to say was weird and painful.

It's December though, so there's all this year-in-review tension pulling at me. In typical fashion, I want to write and photograph and document the hell out of my life.

My life has been pretty tumultuous lately, and the words still feel a bit raw in my head. I left Mr. J after nearly 10 years. Nothing earth-shattering or scandalous; to put it frankly, I was bored.

I moved out and got an apartment with my best friend, Steve, against advice from friends that he has a penis and can therefore not be trusted. Despite his penis, he is quite trustworthy. So much, in fact, that our friendship turned romantic and we started dating. A year later, we married.

It sounds a bit clinical and time-liney put that way, but I don't mean for it to. The hard parts were hard, but the good parts redefine amazing. Divorcing someone who is stable and good does not feel great; but because my existence seems to be characterised by extreme balance not long afterward I found a life that I felt like I was preparing for all along. Double-plus good.

I used to be constantly braced for impact, waiting for the thing that was going to confuse and annoy me. I don't feel so confused or annoyed now, so that's awesome.

Tomorrow, probably the first new year in over fifteen years that I've rung in without a hangover and Book of Mormon the musical (oh yeah… LDS convert. Weird, right?).

Not exactly a year-in-review, but I'm calling this a good start.

The Beach

I used to say that the only time I felt the presence of God was at the beach. Being near the ocean was one of the few times in my life that I have felt a sort of whole-ness that I related to God… if God existed.

I have a new-found belief in God, and a completely different perspective; I believe in things I cannot see or eat. I have faith in things unproven. Not in a blind way, in a promised and promising way. But being near the ocean still feels me with a sense of something important. If a thing can feel peaceful and urgent at the same time, that's what it is. I feel like I have a reason for being, a purpose that tugs at my soul and ties me up in a fervor.

I don't get to the beach too often these days. I used to go once a year with a group of friends. Among those friends is my ex-husband; someone I still consider a friend, but not someone I can spend a weekend at the beach with.

My last trip to the beach was impromptu and short, but no less amazing for it. I felt God there, confirming that I have a purpose even if I don't know what it is. I felt simultaneously very small and quite large, in a way that I often don't.

So I laid on my belly and snapped this photo, of course.

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