As anyone who knows me well could attest, when I go through times of trouble I tend to revert inward. Since I have lost my job (due to an unavoidable layoff), I have had little to say. But I have had time to think and reflect, and that has been a tremendous gift. And in my reflection, I have started reading A Hidden Wholeness by Parker Palmer. A teacher and a Quaker, Dr. Palmer has a quiet view of the world that I have enjoyed so much–it has helped me fight the temptation to frantically job search and do nothing but spin my wheels into the ground.

One of the best things about being laid off is that it gives you a chance to breathe. There is a reason they give you a severance–after losing a job you love, there is a need to sit quietly for a time and let yourself think. I have had the privilege to be sequestered away in Washington D.C. this past week, visiting Maryanne and reveling in friendships like these described by Palmer in his book:

“The people who help us grow toward true self offer unconditional love, neither judging us to be deficient nor trying to force us to change but accepting us exactly as we are.  And yet this unconditional love does not lead us to rest on our laurels.  Instead, it surrounds us with a charged force field that is safe enough to take the risks and endure the failures that growth requires.”

I am filled with gratitude for the people here who have provided a sort-of monastery for me this week. I have been free to sit quietly, talk when I need to, ask questions, and receive patience and hospitality in return.  I hope and pray that I can someday provide this sort of acceptance and love to someone else who needs it. After a week of thought, I still do not know where I will go, what I will do, or how I will provide for myself in the days to come. (I mean, these people are friends, not fortune tellers). But I do know that whatever choices are ahead, I can move forward knowing I have acceptance at every turn.

The days ahead are probably going to be a little scary. But, (and I say this to remind myself as much as anything else): between reveling in the reassurances from friends like these and having a steady 9-5? Hell. I’ll take the former.

I have referenced my favorite book, What Really Matters, several times on this blog. And reading it last night, I found a paragraph I love. When pondering what to tell her daughter about what matters most, Dr. Susan D’Amato says:

Learn your values; then, live your values. Spending time on what really matters is what really matters. You will leave your mark on creation, just as it will leave its mark on you. Your life will touch many other lives and events, in ways you can’t even imagine. Whether intentional or not, you do leave your imprint on the world—both on the natural world and on the many human communities to which you belong. Choose wisely what that imprint will be. Let it represent the completion of your best and truest self. Let it be a shape you are proud of.

Spending time on what really matters is what really matters. I love the circular simplicity of that statement. So I will leave this question to you: what values do you wish to live out?

So the other day, my friend Caroline asked me, “AB, you have had a big year. What have you learned in 2011?”

Here’s what I said:

- I’ve learned how to take care of myself better. I’ve learned that some days you are going to be sad.  And all you are going to be able to do is the basics: get out of bed, brush your hair, take a walk. And that is ok. It doesn’t make you a failure.

- I’ve learned that it is not where I work that makes me feel confined, it’s what I am doing. I am perfectly happy working in a cubicle as long as I feel like my mind and creativity are free. As far as jobs go: it’s not where, it’s what.

- I’ve learned that even with longstanding friendships, there will be times of waxing and waning. Even your best friends won’t be the closest people to you all the time–especially in the 20s. We are all uneven, and all just walking as steadily as we can, sans compass, lacking experience. Sometimes you can’t relate even to your best friends. But if they are true and loyal, you will eventually wane again and become close. Be patient. People that love you will always come around.

- Speaking of patience, I’ve learned that I need to be patient with myself. I grow impatient with my own weaknesses: I know I’m dating the wrong person, but I can’t get out. I know I should work out, but I stay on the couch. I know I should be doing a million things at any given time, and it keeps me from being fully satisfied anywhere I am. But, well, where we are is where we are. I need to be patient with myself even when I make mistakes. I’ve learned it, now if I could just learn to practice it!

- I’ve learned it’s ok to tell people to back the eff off. Still working on the application of this one, too. If you have any good advice on how to nicely tell people to go eff themselves without being unkind or unloving, please tell me how.

- I’ve learned that the best blessings always take you wildly by surprise. I’m still reeling that I landed my dream job–and I didn’t even apply for it. The universe really does sometimes give you a big, fat present wrapped in a bow. Not often, but sometimes. Just wait for it. One will someday come to you.

- I’ve learned that you have to stand with your hands open to receive good things. And that sometimes, standing with your arms out and hands open like that, they will get smacked. But that is ok, too. Take the good with the bad.

- I’ve learned that I REALLY REALLY hope I learn less in 2012.

Happy New Year, readers!

So, I have written three renditions of this story, and they are all terrible. I had a hilariously wretched night recently, and have taken every approach to describe it, from faux movie script, to a fable told Aesop-style. But, well, they all pale in comparison to the original e-mail I wrote my friends describing my evening, so I’m just going to post that. Readers, if you ever have a bad day, remember the night that this happened to me:

Dear Friends and loved ones,
SO HERE’S WHAT HAPPENED TO ME TONIGHT.

I went to a funeral today (sad) and wanted to come home for a RELAXING evening. I just wanted to take a short run, have some wine, and make a festive Christmas hat for my holiday party tomorrow, using a little mistletoe. Sounds nice enough, right?

WRONG.

I get home, change into running clothes (white shirt, better for visibility at night) and go to open a bottle of wine to breathe for when I get back (mmmm).

While opening the wine, I hear my cat scratching on my carpet in my living room and go around to see her PEEING ON MY RUG. NO BIRD! NO!!!

I put the cat outside, and go put the rug in the wash. Come upstairs. My Christmas tree is leaning so far over, it’s about to fall. I shout “DAMN YOU TREE” and fix it.

Then I go on my run.  There’s a slight drizzle.

Four blocks in begins a torrential downpour. I mean it rains HARD. I’m drenched in my now see-through WHITE SHIRT and decide to head for home (run=ruined, iPod=shorting out)

ONE block from home, I see some police lights. I keep running, thinking someone has just been pulled over for a speeding ticket. As I approach, I realize it is actually a man being arrested, and the police officer is trying to wrestle him to the ground. Please note, I am still in my see-through t-shirt at this point. The man shouts “I’m gonna kill you!” not sure whether it was intended for me or the cop. The cop shouts for me to “GET AWAY!!!!”

I run faster. Obvi.

Cross the street. Remember holiday hat. Pause to collect mistletoe for my hat (yes, still in sight of the arrest. I can hear the man wailing still. Was this stupid? A little.) and while grabbing my mistletoe, a hobo comes upon me. I go on the other side of the tree to get away, but he CHASES ME for half a block!!!!!!!! I WAS SO SCARED!!!!!!!!!!!! I got chased by a hobo! I can hardly believe that I JUST GOT CHASED BY A HOBO!  I SPRINT back home, only to remember my rug. EF.

Go to check on laundry and discover that the washing machine has ripped a huge hole in it. My gorgeous, on-of-a-kind rug, gift from my mother, ruined. I think I now fear her wrath more than anything else.

I just walked back upstairs.

My tree is back to almost falling over.

Oh well, at least I got the mistletoe?

Happy Fucking Christmas. And to all a good night.

Love y’all,

AB

Some days, don’t you just want to float away in one of these?

Me, too.

My business partner and I were talking today about how hard it is to turn our brains off.  Being “creatives” at an advertising agency, neither of us are happy unless we are creating something; be it origami, songs, graphic designs, letters, articles, recipes, what have you. It’s geeky, but true. What drives you? What are you so passionate about that you think about it even when you aren’t doing it? I’m lucky that for me it’s my job. What is it for you?

Hello dears, and joyful tidings to you all! With only one more day left in November, I am getting excited looking forward to Christmas. What were your family’s Christmas colors? My mom always decorated with gold. She would buy MJDesigns (remember them, Dallasites?) out of gold spray paint and go to work. Pine cones, nuts, reindeer figurines, silk flowers, nothing was safe from her ubiquitous gold paint.

To this day, even the sound of jingle bells can’t compare to the gentle clanging of that little ball inside the spray can as mom prepared to Christmas-fy everything in the house.

Happy Holidays, y’all!

Dear Texi,

The holidays are coming up. Remember how we used to call each other on Thanksgiving and Christmas? Even though your house was only four blocks away we would call each other (522-6677–I think yours is the only phone number I remember besides mine) to share crazy family stories. Oh gah. That year when it iced on Thanksgiving and my aunt fell, that was really something.  Or at Christmas we would always call after opening presents. Yours were always better than mine, except that one year where we both got bicycles. That was just the top bunk. Do you think our parents coordinated that?

I’m always a little surprised with the strength of how it feels to miss you. Like when I check Facebook, which, by the way, you were the first person to tell me about–the lack of you smacks me in the cheek. Your brother and I are “friends” and, you know, he is getting to be kinda famous. Sometimes he is in magazines he always posts links and I always look (because of you) and I am mostly scandalized. Remember how he helped us do flips off the low board at the pool? You would make so much fun of him for how they make him out like this style/sex symbol. I think of how much fun you would make of him for pictures like the one where he’s watching some girl take an outdoor shower in a Louis Vuitton bikini bottom (ew!) and it makes me laugh, then feel a big ole’ throat lump. Nobody could tease James like you. He needs you to keep him modest. Nothing like a little sister to keep you modest.

Sometimes when I run I cry for you. I know! I jog now! What? Me? I’m all grown up now, Texi, and when I run I think of you. Of the two of us, you were always the wise one. There are some things that happen in my life that I really need to share with you. Like how I finally fell in love, and almost moved to DC, and became a democrat with an ever-evolving theology. I’m catching up with you, Texi, and I need your advice. I am dating a man now and sometimes I have no idea what to do. I cry that I can’t tell you my sob stories and have you make me laugh so hard I do that silent shaking thing about them. My wit is not as good without you.

I miss you in the summer. Every time I go swimming I wish I had someone to have a tea party with at the bottom of the pool. I miss you in the winter, your birthday passes and MLK day and I think of how much you loved the “I Have a Dream” speech. What fourth grader gets the “I Have a Dream” speech?  I miss you in the spring. I remember our last conversation like it was yesterday–the lightness in your voice, a peace I had not heard in years, as you told me that you loved me for the last time. But I miss you most in the fall. In school, fall was always the time to make new friends, but I was always so glad that year after year, we seemed to be content with each other. I miss childhood in the fall, Texi.  Leaves are not as much fun to play in now. There are no “apple turn-ovas,” and no high school football games. And of course, there is no you.

I am so thankful I had you, and a childhood, and that the two are nearly synonymous. The past is you, and you are it, and it is all wonderful and glossy because it is the past and it used to be “our” past, but now you aren’t here and it is just “my” past and now I am the one who carries it. But I’m happy to do it because I know you would do the same for me.

Sigh, this was supposed to be a Thanksgiving message. Sorry, Tex, you know how I get off track all the time. Well, I am thankful I had you when I did. And I’ll stop being so schmaltzy now and get off my arse and go practice guitar now, because I know you would want me to. I promise to learn “Ticket to Ride” for you.

Happy Thanksgiving dear, I still give thanks for you.

Love,

Beth

I am so fortunate to have such talented friends! Anna Routh Barzin and I got together a few weeks ago for a vintage-inspired photo shoot, using real vintage film!

I’ve always been inspired by Richard Avedon, and this is one of my favorite of his photographs:

Anna and I had a blast recreating this famous shot. Though I’m no Parisian model and Bishop Arts is no French boulevard, we had a pretty great time.

Feel free to click here to see more of Anna’s work.

Old and grey with a flour sack cape
Tied all around his head,
He’s still jumpin’ off the garage
And will be till he’s dead.
All these years the people said,
He’s actin’ like a kid
He did not know he could not fly
So he did.

Well he’s one of those who knows that life
Is just a leap of faith.
Spread your arms and hold you breath
And always trust your cape.

“The Cape” by Guy Clark