Natalie comes to Brooklyn
...
The longest journey that people must take is the eighteen inches between their heads and their hearts. | Anonymous
vinegar hill, brooklyn
i've been needing a little getaway. in fact, i'm probably about a month past having needed to escape new york for a week, but it hasn't been in the cards. so yesterday, finding myself with the task of showing two of the loveliest guys a girl could hope to meet the off-the-beaten-path-new-york, i knew just where to go. there is something about the tiny neighborhood of vinegar hill, brooklyn that feel undisturbed--old and historic and quiet--an escape. like it's at the edge of the world in the best possible way.
(i have a feeling that as the weather turns warm i'll be convincing more than a few friends to dine with me at vinegar hill house's back garden).
a perfect Brooklyn Sunday (also, Peter-Paul and Sjoerd do life on this side of the East River)
there is but one magnolia tree where i live.
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I don't need someone to complete me, I need someone to make things a little bit better every now and again. | Jon Richardson
things i wish people had told me a really long time ago
1. on that moment someone says to you it'll come when you least expect it:
(or, another favorite, when you stop looking).
these expressions are the equivalent of someone saying it'll be in the last place you look, when you've lost something.
which is to say, correct. but also asinine.
of course it's the last place you look. which might also be the first, and how can both those things be true? it might also be the second place you look or the four-hundred-and-sixty-third place. there's no telling.
2. when someone asks why you didn't like a particular man who had great affection for you, your response need be nothing more than a simple because.
because. period.
one word.
that response is wholly enough. affection given freely (which is the only way it can be given) does not mean you must reward it or reciprocate it. hell, you don't even have to be flattered by it.
but if that word alone does not suffice, how about this: because i didn't.
because because.
because i didn't like his laugh and i didn't like his smell. because at the end of our third date my only thought was please don't let this man kiss me, please don't let him touch me.
the body knows. it always knows. and it'll tell you. but you have to listen.
a man's affection (or rather, any romantic partner's affection) is a starting point. a fork in the road. the absolute minimum of what must be expected. and if you choose to walk in the other direction, so be it. a man's affection is not a life raft, nor is it a fainting couch on which to collapse. to accept or not is your choice. and you need not explain that to anyone.
3. sometimes you just need someone to pass the lonely with.
and that is okay.
affection can be real and true and good and going absolutely nowhere.
some men will highlight your loneliness. draw attention to it, make it worse. their hand on your knee a distancing thing. and some men will raze that loneliness with a single glance. these are the men who will reveal themselves as home in the span of a night--in the length of time it takes to drink a glass of wine. these are the men who you will move mountains for--they are rare and remarkable and between the two of you a sort of alchemy takes flight.
and then there are the men who you want to kiss--the men you want to adore, but will never fall in love with. so kiss them. and go to breakfast with them. let them buy you dinner. take them to the movies and ruin summers with them.
people speak in directives about love. love entirely or not at all. take the whole of it or none of it. nothing in between.
but the thing is, sometimes the in-between is really good. it is something-else-entirely and sometimes something-else-entirely is entirely right. for a time, it is entirely right. rich and fertile practice ground. a meaningful passing of the time.
sometimes something-else is the comfort of a man’s arm wrapped around you—the immediacy of its warmth and touch, but nothing else. it is not home and it is not the promise of home. but it is nonetheless healing and restorative. and it is your choice.
and that's okay.
man, i wish someone had told me it was okay a good long while ago.
you do not have to live your life according to the prevailing opinions about love and making a life. you have only to be ruthlessly honest with yourself about what it is you want and what it is you'll accept one-day-at-a-time.
round these parts
to say the whole thing is frustrating would be a pretty apt description. but the trees are beginning to bloom and the selection of flowers at the grocery store is becoming more interesting and varied.
i first fell in love with this corner of brooklyn that i now call home just about a year ago. it was springtime affair. love at first sight. and to see it again in this light brings such joy. i'm breathless in anticipation for the explosion of green that is surely imminent.
with a good book forever in my purse, a polka-dotted scarf round my neck, red lips, and light pouring into my home each morning i'm doing all that i can to enjoy life in this moment.
...
At the end of the day, when I am lying in bed and I know the chances of any of our theology being exactly right are a million to one, I need to know that God has figured it out, that if my math is wrong we are still going to be okay. And wonder is that feeling we get when we let go of our silly answers, our mapped out rules that we want God to follow. I don't think there is any better worship than wonder. | Donald Miller
my last post on blogger before the great big move to wordpress.
it's been a strange and wonky stretch of time, these last few months.
good and bad and a little unbearable and at times, heaven.
a stretch of time in which i've felt both deeply mired in the muck and as though i'm hurtling, lightening speed, into the great unknown.
i have this very vivid memory of being twelve years old and climbing up to the see the delicate arch in utah and how that trek went on forever. i never thought we'd get there. the land was so flat and so brown and so long before me and the sun was high overhead and i couldn't imagine an end. and then, just when i thought i couldn't go any further, we curved round a huge stone wall and there it was.
and i was breathless. it took my breath away.
that thing, that arch, that magnificent sliver made by mother nature's careful hands.
few times in my life have i seen something so beautiful--the sort of thing that people marvel at even in photos, but photos will never do justice.
it was so much more than my small mind could have ever conceived.
it was sometime between late december and middle of january that i realized the eating disorder was done.
just like that, gone.
i shouldn't say just like that--it was an arduous and often impossible journey. but the moment of its departure went unnoticed.
t.s. elliot got it right: not with a bang but a whimper.
there's that phrase: you'll struggle with this for the rest of your life. and oh how i loathed that phrase and fought against that phrase and worked to make that phrase obsolete.
but here, on the other side, i've come to realize it's not the eating disorder i may struggle with the rest of my life, but all the other things that i emptied into it.
fear and anxiety and a propensity to get sad. startlingly deep emotional reactions that overwhelm and unnerve. lack of confidence. questions of worth.
and with the eating disorder said and done those things are now illuminated with stark clarity. and a whole new journey begins. and it's just as hard and i'm sure it'll be just as good...
but what the hell.
you know?
because no one prepared me for this.
in fact each time i face something that i thought would be easier without an eating disorder and it's not--well, each time there is disappointment and dare i say, a little heartache.
each time feels like a small loss.
i came through the other side and it's a whole new set of struggles. or well, the struggles that were always there, but now there's no pretending.
there is only honesty--ruthless and brutal honesty. and a little floundering.
someone left a comment the other day saying, when are you not sad. not with a question mark though, just a period.
and all i could do was laugh because she has a point and imagine how i feel living it? i know, i really, really know.
ba-hambug. (and a little laughter along the way).
but just the other day natalie said something that made me a take a quick breath, oh! of course!
it takes a long time for an exceptional person to be made.
isn't that perfect? it takes a long time for an exceptional person to be made.
and natalie and i, we both want to be exceptional. and so yes, it may take a little bit longer.
and the flip side of that? an easy path does not make for exceptional people.
exceptional people are forged by the hard and the difficult and the sad.
which is to say the hard and the difficult and the sad are all great gifts.
and perhaps this may be simplistic, but makes it all a bit more bearable--provides perspective.
it took a long time for that delicate arch to be made.
and it took a long time for me to reach it at the age of twelve.
but good lord was it worth the wait.
it takes a long time for an exceptional person to be made. indeed.
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new post up on megfee.com--MY NEW YORK | spring is a total show-off
a letter to the man who'll one day make me an honest woman:
round these parts (megfee.com)
round these parts
i feel like i finally got this brand-spankin’-new-site and a tremendous case of writer’s block.
and so nothing to say.
which isn’t quite true.
there are things to say but sometimes enough time has to pass. and sometimes i worry for the players in the story. and at other times the thoughts are only half-formed and getting them to whole sentences is a thing that happens in my body long before they reach the mind and so it’s a game of patience.
and sometimes i find that when i’m in a place of great transition it’s difficult to write. i have to get to the other side to gain some perspective.
but i do want to write about a post in defense of dressing up. and i want to write a post about things that don’t age well (like tattoos and anger). i want to write a post about how i had a revolutionary thought on tuesday night while standing barefoot in the kitchen doing dishes. and so perhaps next week i’ll get some of that written down. and if i don’t, you all will remind me?
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