8.19.2015

Hiking box canyon.

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After all of our hiking at Yellowstone, we got back to Idaho and finished off the trip with one last trek to Box Canyon. There was a crystal clear, dazzlingly blue freshwater spring at the bottom of the canyon which was ice cold. By far the coldest water I have ever had the courage to dunk myself in, but it was completely worth it. 

I wish there was a spot like this in Dallas I could ran away and escape to in 106 degree weather. It's a bummer we don't have freshwater pools just lying around, but at least my memories can take me back to days like these and days even farther back in Hawaii, in an attempt to satisfy myself. 

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The selfie to prove we were wet and really did swim. photo IMG_7022 copy_zpso0txjvjm.jpg
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My face. Ugh.
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8.09.2015

Camping in a thermal minefield.

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It's blurry to me how this dream-like adventure even commenced. A few passing words about wanting to visit Nathan in Idaho, a daydream of camping in the summer, googling National Parks. Looking into the past, the most surprising revelation of it all was how doable this trip was -- for someone who stresses out as much as I do. It took a few phone call planning-sessions, a couple date nights with google maps, and simply going for it.

The more days, weeks, months, years, that go by, I am struck continually with possibilities and opportunities I can choose to pursue or not, if I'm only willing to gather up the gumption to leap for it, work hard for it, or not be scared. Other times, it feels like life's possibilities are narrowing down, disappearing, falling away. Dreams and castles built up from childhood begin to look like a play dough doll houses for ants when real life kicks in. Foolish, childish, and totally impractical.

As we were skimmed through hundreds of miles of Idaho farmland in the wee morning hours, meandered up rocky hills of Targhee National Forest, were awed by the Grand Tetons, and hiked through the rugged and mysterious terrain of Yellowstone, dreams felt more possible then the have in a while.

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hiking the grand canyon of yellowstone left me breathless (and not just because I'm terribly unfit)
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what you cannot see is the pungent sulfur smell (be grateful)
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the most active thermal area in the world is around old faithful and all these colorful, churning, bubbling pools
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The hike we went on here allowed us to perch on the left side of this falls, directly above it, unbarred, as opposed to the people on the opposite side. Such a dizzying view is one I will not soon forget.

I am privileged to have siblings I love spending time with, who are willing to travel, camp, and simply spend every moment together. Michael and I have missed our other third who has been far away working for the past year, and getting to experience this together was the sweetest part of it all.

Whisperings of a future trip were passed around, where it will be, I've no conjectures, but if it renews and refreshes my spirit so much as this one did, anticipation is already bursting from me.

Where has your summer taken you?

7.23.2015

Haircut (before & after)


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Here's the obligatory before and after shot.

It's been about three years, and I've cut off my ponytail once again. I woke up last weekend and thought, "What a great day to cut all my hair off!" No joke. It's one of those times in life when a rash decision is the best way to go about something -- because overthinking it often leads to worry or paralysis.

So twelve inches of hair is in a bag, ready to be mailed away, and I'm here a pound or so lighter.

I hope your summer has been as fun or strange or just lazy.

P.S. Stay tuned for a blogpost about how screen printing has been going over here!

6.23.2015

this one summer day.

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Today when I left my house and entered this park, my internal eyes were zoomed in on myself like a microscope. It's by no means the first time I've been self-absorbed, but it's one of the more acute days I've ever had, and the only way I knew how to escape was to get out. Get out of the house, out of my head, and stare at something different -- other then myself and what I didn't want to see. But the truth is, I could barely see anything around me. I couldn't see the people I was passing. I couldn't see the trees, the water. I was mentally blinded by my own self.

The good news is, when I exited that park, I had new eyes. 

That's the best way I can describe it. I've never needed new eyes so badly in my life, and no one else could give them to to me, other then Jesus. Because as I walked out, I wasn't looking at myself anymore, but Him. Just staring at Him. There's a freedom at looking at the cross that is so much bigger than oneself, than ones past or future, that is all-encompassing, and it's the only real freedom I've ever known. It's the only real purpose I've ever known. I don't understand how I can lose sight of it so repeatedly, but I have comfort in knowing He's never letting me go, even when I do.

p.s. been a while since a post like this, hah.

edit: I felt a piercing need to add to this post the day after writing it, just to clarify my own ramblings for myself (and anyone who actually reads this). It bothered me that the ending of this post left off on such a high note, because the reality of today is that high note has already gone a little flat. That one documented good day up above is the consequence of unnumbered lousy days. My helpless pride winces at the knowledge that the only pathway to a fuller revelation of Love is a clearer exposing of my wanton sin -- so here's that appropriate, discouraging, and rather paradoxical ending.