Dance Parties, Chopsticks, and Photographs

Yesterday I woke up and did this...

Yes. That is a FULL BLOWN dance party.
Rad.

Today, I ate lunch with 20 other people. We took up six tables.

We went for Chinese food. What we got was laughter. 

And I mean, the kind of laughter that makes your sides hurt and all the other people in the restaurant either very annoyed by you or very envious of your crazy rad group of friends.

I was sitting kind of near the end of the table and so glancing down the length of it at the sea of glasses, chopsticks, fried rice, Mongolian Beef, smiling faces, and brilliant conversations was completely charming.

The laughter ranged from chuckles to guffaws and the conversation spread all the way from “bald by choice?” to “EMT's vs. Paramedics” and from “tofu has no identity!!” to “mugshot driver's license photos.” There may have even been a moment where the gong on the wall got gonged. Just sayin'.

There was never a lull in conversation and every moment felt sweet.

I then came home and Skyped with one of my oldest and dearest friends from childhood. She is coming to stay for a full week with me in February. We made plans, we laughed, we talked life stuff, we got excited about her trip. 

Her precious friendship over the years has meant so much to me.

After that I began to prepare for the class that I teach sign language in. 

I teach kids. 

Amazing kids.

Awesome kids. 

That make me smile and fill my life with joy everyday just by knowing them.  

See???

Now...

I'm sitting here in my living room writing this blog on my laptop.

My very own living room.

My very own laptop.

My walls are covered in photographs of my precious family and my dear friends, my blinds are open and I can still see the little bit of fluffy, white snow that has yet to melt, my iPod is shuffling through my favorite songs, and I am blown away by how great this weekend has been. It's one of those weekends where you realize how full your life really is and how grand it is just to be alive and able to experience the things we are privileged enough to experience.

And it IS a privilege. LIFE is a privilege.

I am beginning to truly cherish the idea of that.

I am beginning to truly rest in the promise of that.

I am beginning to fully understand the gift of that.

LIFE.

MY LIFE.

It really is pretty special.

Is it what I planned for myself? No.

Is it always easy? Heck no.

But, is it great anyway? Absolutely.

"You will make known to me the path of life; in Your presence is fullness of joy; in Your right hand there are pleasures forever." - Psalm 16:11

It's good.

Today I looked up the word “content.”

Content (kənˈtɛnt) -adj
1. Mentally or emotionally satisfied with things as they are
2. Assenting to or willing to accept circumstances, a proposed course of action, etc.

Based on this definition I haven't been content for a long time. My life's circumstances and course of action have not been dictated by me, (hahaha!!) and in the ways I desire, therefore I've been restless.

Slowly, however, over the last month I have begun to transition into a new form of contentment. I am changing things up. Breaking some routines. Finding new niches. Doing. Living. Enjoying. Resting. Trusting.

It's good.

I am on the return trip home.

I was made for this.

I am an American Sign Language interpreter. I love my job.

I happen to think I have the greatest job in the world! Paying job, that is; they don't pay you to be a mommy. I am not a mommy, but I do believe it is the greatest, and hardest, job in the world. I digress.

Sign language and deafness in any form was never a part of my life growing up. How they entered my life is an amazing story. One I would like to tell. Here goes...

I was an actress. Born that way. My family lovingly coined me “Crisis a minute” because everything was overly dramatized and intense all the time. I'm woman enough to admit it now, oh yes, it was.

I acted all through elementary, middle, and high school. I went to an arts school for college and studied theatre day and night. I loved it. I was good at it. I had a true passion for it. I never thought I would be anything but an actress for the rest of my life. My mom says that when she and my father dropped me off at college and drove home, that my dad cried because he KNEW that was it- I was never coming home. I was going to NYC and BROADWAY!!! Yep, I had it all figured out.

Funny how OUR plans never look like what really plays out. Hmm.

Anyway... At some point in my young life, probably around 13, my family got a Nintendo. You remember, I know you do. The gray and black box with the red writing. The flat cartridges that you had to blow in to make work, then BAM- Mario got to run and jump and slide down green tubes that took him to fantastical worlds full of coins and Koopas!! Well, we got one of those... and it was AWE.SOME. I was one of those kids that could figure things out quickly and beat a game in a very short period of time. My dad says it was then that he realized how good my hand/eye coordination was. Well, shortly after he began to say, “You know what, Cath? I think you're going to do sign language one day! I don't know why, but I think you will. Your hand/eye coordination is great, plus you have a natural flair for the dramatic!” Wink. Wink. Nudge. Nudge. To which I would promptly roll my pre-teen eyes and say, “Yeah right, dad! I'm an actress!” End. Of. Story.

Little did we know at the time that my dad had been given a glimpse into my future and my true passion. I am convinced the Lord just whispered it in his ear and he listened, because once every several months or so he would say it again. And again, I would roll my eyes, “Dads. What do they know?” -Adult Catherine to young Catherine, heed my word, “They know. OH. SO. MUCH!”

Cut to age 25. I toured for three years with a professional Children's Theatre company based in Richmond, Va. For the first year or so I loved the lifestyle; traveling all over the country, seeing tons of different states and many cool things, performing for packed houses of screaming and laughing kids. It was great. Then reality set in. It. Was. Hard. You're either made for that lifestyle long term or you're not. I was not; eating, sleeping, driving, breathing- with the same four people for six months at a time (good luck if you hate each other!) You are your own cast, crew, sound, props, administration, etc... It took it's toll on me. After three years I quit.

I needed a job.

A friend of mine told me that they were hiring a Pre-K teacher at a private preschool and I didn't need a teaching certificate or anything. I went. I applied. I got hired. I had 24 four year olds in my class. Holy heck, Batman! It was nuts.

Cut to six months later. I loved the kids. I hated the job.

I called my parents one night sobbing. “I am 25 years old and everything I have ever wanted to do in my life I no longer want to do! I have no idea what is happening or where to go with my life!”  

This is where my story turns. 

My dad says to me (somewhat choked up and teary), “Catherine. I have NO IDEA how I have known this, but I have KNOWN since you were a little girl that you are supposed to do sign language. Please just take a class and if you hate it I promise you I will never mention it again.”

I really didn't have any other options. Why not try it? But, I sure as heck wasn't enrolling in a college course and shelling out $350 or more, because I was convinced it was a lost cause. So, I enrolled in a $60/one night a week for six weeks class sponsored by my local Parks and Recreation.

I KNEW five minutes in. Done. Forever. Daddy's know best for their little girls.

The rest, as they say, is history.

It's strange though, I look back on my family growing up and there is one sign that has ALWAYS been a part of our lives- I Love You.

I don't know where it came from or who started it in my family, but it has always been there. Funny anecdote: When my sister and brother-in-law were first dating, they were leaving the house one day and my mom signed “I love you” to my sister as they drove off. My brother-in-law turned to my sister and said, “Did your mom just flash you the Van Halen symbol??” This is now a running joke in my family. “Van Halen, Dude!” while holding up your hand. Heehee. (Sorry, Dan. Please be nice to me.)

Cut to now. I interpret full time in the school system, free lance interpret on the side, interpret for theatre and concerts, and teach sign language in a program for children with and without disabilities. This is my heart. I LOVE my job. It's easy to FEEL like I am doing what I was meant to do.

BUT... when I get a picture text from my three year old nephew, out of nowhere on a Sunday morning, like this...

I KNOW I am doing exactly what I was called to do. I was made for this.

I put away Christmas today...

I put away Christmas today. It was really hard for me. And a bit sad.

My Christmas tree. And my coffee table. That's what I want to talk about. 

My Christmas tree was very little. The size that is perfect for a front bay window or a child's bedroom. Mine was in my living room. 

My very own Charlie Brown Christmas Tree.

"I never thought it was such a bad little tree. It's not bad at all, really. 

Maybe it just needs a little love"- Linus Van Pelt

It had white lights, a blue lit star on top, lots of little blue, white, and silver bows, and many a Pensacola, Fl ornament. 

This is the first Christmas tree I've had in five years. My last roommate was allergic to pine and didn't like the smell. There was also an aversion to artificial trees, so needless to say, we never had one.

This is also the first time in 34 years that I have lived by myself. I love it. The freedom is divine. When I moved in I was able to decorate how I wanted to; my color choices, my taste, my idea of cozy and inviting.

So... When Christmas rolled around this year I got really excited to make my little house something special.

I actually had a box of Christmas stuff, believe it or not. It consisted of eleven stained glass angel ornaments (All sent from my Godmother. She has sent me an angel of some kind every year for my birthday and Christmas for as long as I can remember!), a handful of other assorted ornaments, two Robert Sabuda Christmas pop up books, a silver plated nativity set that my mom gave me years ago, and four silver pine cone candles, that smell like fresh pine, that my sister gave me.

I was so excited to finally be able to decorate a tree of my own, that I decorated the heck out of that thing! See???

 

Now, to my coffee table. It started out as just my nativity and the silver pine cones and the pop up books. Like this...

I loved it. But, then it got better. And better. 

As I checked my mail everyday the Christmas cards came pouring in. I got cards from Oz (love you Sparks!), many from MD, PA, FL, and here in VA. I got tons! I have gotten Christmas cards in the past, don't get me wrong, but this year, maybe because I had a new address, I don't know, I got LOTS. Opening the mail was a treat everyday!

I moved the pop up books and began to display all my cards on my coffee table. (I kick myself now for not taking a picture of it! Grrr.) I would sit in my big, comfy chair and a half and just stare at all of the amazing people that God has blessed my life with. They were all over my coffee table; smiling, hugging, bundled up, laughing, and completely and totally full of joy. It was a GREAT coffee table. No room for my coffee, but I didn't care a lick. The table had new purpose.

So... yes. It was tough and sad to put it all away today.

I was away in Florida for two weeks for break, and while I was gone my tree dried out and died. Like, "OUCH! That hurt!!" kind of dried out! Taking it down and throwing it out was somewhat painful, but it was also sort of symbolic of my struggles this last year and my hopes for this new year.

Last year was tough for me in a lot of ways. No need to get into it on a blog, but let's just say it was. My tiny, dead, dry tree was symbolic of a lot of last year for me. However, the presents underneath and the ornaments on it it were also symbolic of a lot of last year for me. I'll explain...

I walked across the parking lot and threw my dead and dry tree in the dumpster. As I was walking back to my apartment I was staring at the ground and I began to notice a trail of dried pine needles- from my little Charlie Brown tree. I felt like Hansel and Gretel following the trail of bread crumbs to find their way home. I came inside and pulled out the vacuum cleaner. As I cleaned my carpet and listened to all the little pine needles hitting the inside of the canister, I thought about that trail of dead, dried needles. All those little needles are all the junk from last year; they are either in the dumpster, in the parking lot to get run over, or getting sucked up never to be seen again. The gunk and unhappy from the past is in the past. It can stay there. On the other hand all my ornaments are safely packed up and preserved to be used again next year and all my presents are put away in their proper new homes; the blessings from last year still shine brightly in my heart and in my home. 

It seems silly that we jump on a "fresh start" every January 1st. Can't we take a fresh start whenever we want to?? March 2nd? September 19? Sure we can, but there really is something symbolic about the old passing away and the new ushering in. 

My apartment is clean now. All of my things are back in their proper places and my Scentsy warmer is burning a clean laundry smell that is filling my house.

I really DO get to leave the past behind me and venture into a new year. 

A new me.

"Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do; forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."- Philippians 3:13-14

BREATHE.

 

 

I've seen this kind of alphabetical photography before, it's a big deal on Pintrest, but four days ago my dear friend Jenni made me really fall in love with seeing the world like this. I find myself noticing things I wouldn't have noticed before simply because I was looking for the letter T or the letter R!

Architecture and building design has a whole new beauty. Cracks in walls and pavements seem strangely un-broken. Plants and trees appear to enjoy the art form as much as I do. Ironwork on gates and banisters and signs, outdoor furniture, electrical equipment, piles of "junk", bridges, boats... You name it, I see it differently now. It truly is amazing what you see when you're looking deeper into things.

Anyway... Jenni showed me all the letters in her name that she had found around the Jacksonville area and so before we left for Savannah, GA we decided that we were going to choose a word to find while we were there.

I chose BREATHE.

This is my word for 2013. 

Breathe, Catherine. 

It's ok to be still and breathe. It's ok to be quiet and breathe.

It's ok to close your eyes for 20 seconds and just breathe.

Heck. It's not only ok- it's necessary. 

But, how little we actually stop and just breathe deeply in our daily lives is tragic. I think we just need to give ourselves permission. Everything is important and every day is GO! GO! GO! that we don't allow ourselves to stop and breathe because we don't recognize it's importance. My mom says "Breathe through the holes in your feet." I always thought it a strange saying, but I know what it means; 

breathe so deeply it feels like it's coming from the very bottom of you. 

I like my new word and so far so good on keeping myself in check with it: 

• Wanting to pull your hair out when your student forgot EVERYTHING over Christmas break... BREATHE, Cath.

• Pinch your finger in between a chair arm and a table and desire to scream things that are highly inappropriate for work... BREATHE, Cath.

• When you are "helped" by a woman in the craft store who is more interested in having a chat with her co-worker than showing you which bale will work the best with that pendant... BREATHE, Cath.

• The dude that cuts you off in traffic... BREATHE, Cath.

• Ramming your shin into the oven door because you forgot you were leaving it open to let the heat out... BREATHE, Cath.  (Can you tell I am having a somewhat hazardous to my health kind of day?? Just. Breathe.)

Point?

Look deeper into the world around you, there is some cool stuff out there.

Oh yeah... and don't forget to breathe.

A blog, Catherine? Really?

I am not a writer by trade, but I love words. 

According to some people I have a gift for putting them together
and making them mean something.

 My grandfather is a writer. The most beautiful poetry you'll ever read is penned by Joseph Wallace. My dad isn't a writer by trade either but when he writes
I cry and laugh and feel. 

So, I guess you could say, if it is a gift, I came by it somewhat naturally.

Over the last several years I have been encouraged many times by my friends to "write a blog!" The thought of writing and other people appreciating it is a bit strange to me.

I simply write.

And when I write... 
I write like I speak and I speak like I think and I think what I feel. 

Really? Why would anyone be interested in my thoughts put down in print?

I never thought I would do this. 

Really. I didn't.

But then...

This morning, the first morning of a brand new year, I was in a gorgeous and slightly eerie cemetery in downtown historic Savannah, GA. The trees were dripping with moss, the above ground tombs were covered in bright green ivy, and I was walking around soaking it all in.
Alone.

I walked.
 Smelling the crisp morning air.
Feeling the dew covered grass brush my flip flop covered feet.
 Experiencing awe at the sight of the mist that hovered just above the tombstones.

I walked.

 I found myself reflecting on this abundantly blessed and yet very difficult past year of my life and thinking about the changes longed for and challenges I desire to overcome in this next year of my life.
I'm not talking about New Year's resolutions here; easily made, easily broken.
I'm talking about true, grown up adult conscious decisions.
Actively CHOOSING to make changes and face challenges in your life.
That's what I was thinking about. 

Just before I got in my car to drive home I posted a status on Facebook about my ponderings in the cemetery, and of course, included the obligatory "Happy New Year!" Again, I was encouraged by a friend, this one from years past, to start a blog.

Then I drove. 

For eight hours. 

And I thought. 

No lie- I didn't turn on my radio once. 

Silence, but for my thoughts and the rain that poured in both the Carolinas. 

I thought about a lot of things. 

One of those things was this blog. Should I? Could I? 

Would anyone care?

 Does that even matter? Wouldn't you be writing it for yourself, Catherine?? 

Yes. Yes, I would be. New challenge accepted.

So... Here I am. 

With pigtails. 

Without makeup. Sorry.
(I guess I am starting this thing out VERY real, huh?? )

Home.
In Richmond, VA.
Writing a blog.

If you want to come along and visit the tiny corners of my mind and my heart from time to time, I invite you in and welcome you! I hope you find it cozy and warm here.

On that note, let me expand on the title of this blog, Tiny Corners. Once I had made up my mind to do this I thought a lot about what I should call this thing. This blog.
 This new challenge I have boldly decided to tackle. This is what I came up with...

I look at our minds and our hearts a lot like a junk drawer. Let me explain.

When you first open a junk drawer all you see is the mini mag-light for when the power goes out during a hurricane, thirty two different colored rubber bands from a once round and bouncy rubber band ball, a roll of Scotch tape, take out menus from your favorite pizza place and the Chinese joint around the corner that makes killer spring rolls, and a pair of dull scissors that should have been replaced ages ago. When you shove all that stuff to the sides though, and start looking in all the corners, you find the good stuff; the missing puzzle piece that someone put there so it didn't get vacuumed up, your ring that you "remember putting down somewhere!", a five dollar bill rolled up in some old receipts, the awesome website you wanted to check out that someone had jotted down on a scratch piece of paper for you, and the "I have no idea what it is, but isn't it cute?!" piece of artwork that your nephew made for you out of pipe cleaners, just because he loves you!

The stresses and the woes of our everyday lives are the Scotch tape and the dull scissors; our jobs, our families and relationships, our health, paying the bills, our worries, our fears, our self doubt, etc...

Consuming.
 They take up a whole lot of space in our junk drawers.

Don't focus too long and too hard on the Scotch tape or you'll miss out on the pipe cleaner masterpieces!!

You find the good stuff in the tiny corners.