monday mornings.

Almost every Monday morning before I start teaching, I go on a walk to the Starbucks down the street.
The walk is less for the Starbucks and more for mental preparation for the week.
As I walk, sweating - because it's already 85 degrees and humid outside and I have about 15 pounds in my backpack, I say prayers that mostly sound like internal moans:

Lord, how am I going to make it through this day?
How am I going to make it through this week?
And progressively whinier, how am I going to make it through the 27 days (counting off the calendar like I'm serving a prison sentence) of this horrible, torturous employment contract?
Why did I think this was a good idea???

Somehow, I've made it through the last months when I didn't think I would, and maybe this is just the final painful push to the finish line. I'm pretty sure it's a character-building exercise that I'm failing. But I for sure know that there is a reason for a Starbucks in every corner of the world. Because that perfectly made iced caramel macchiato and the walk with God along the way are two of the few things keeping me sane.

a few favorites.

Time has flown by! I am just not getting to editing and organizing my photos, but here a few favorites from our trip to the Philippines in January. Wish I could teleport there now.

a candle for each season.

I have a candle for each season. This was unintentionally and on purpose. Unintentionally because I don't normally buy candles in advance for the entire year, but I wasn't sure where I'd find Voluspa candles in China. On purpose because, being the planny person that I am, I took note of the burn time of each candle, counted the number of weeks, and then calculated approximately how long each candle would last. About three months. So I bought a 3-pack of said candles at Nordstrom's half-yearly sale, and a miniature one just for good measure: 1. in case I undercalculated, 2. because I love anything miniature, and 3. because Karli took me to the cutest stationary store in Culver City, and I couldn't walk away empty-handed.

What I've learned from this is: There's special something for each season. You let it light up the room, you breathe in smell of Pink Citron or Mokara. You enjoy it for a good few months. You use it up. And when it burns out, that's ok. You've got another good thing coming.

on fear.

Husband and I watched Greg Laurie speak at Saddleback for this week's service. I cried the whole time. I haven't lost anyone recently - but it broke my heart for those who have. And it made me so fearful. I am so fearful of losing Dave unexpectedly. But that fear also brought me perspective. Who cares if we still have a sink full of dishes? Am I really that upset that he forgot to put the toilet seat down and that in my bleary-eyed, still half-asleep stage, I fell in? I mean, really, what matters most? Fear scares us into the present. It reminds me to look next to me and see the sleepy man who is my world. Really see him. Kiss him, love him, and appreciate him for who he is in my life. 

Thank you, fear. I still win.

on partnership.

Sheryl Sandberg has said, both in interviews and in her new book, Lean In, "I truly believe that the single most important career decision that a woman makes is whether she will have a life partner and who that life partner is."

As I was reading that section of her book, I was struck by the thought that, "whoa, I'm not even done with grad school yet and I've already been married for almost 4 years," and simultaneously: "I'm so blessed to be married to Dave.

On the weekends, he cleans (way more thoroughly than I do), does the dishes and the laundry and occasionally even makes pancakes. He takes cares of the taxes and pays the bills. He hasn't always done all those things automatically, but now I don't even have to ask. He's encouraging with words, but not only that, he moved to China for me. Love is action. And when I'm bummed about living across the world, stressed out about getting responses for my thesis survey, and worrying about the water supply, Dave is the one reminding me that this is an awesome opportunity and that we're doing this together. When we talk about our future expanding family, there are no assumptions. Nor are there any assumptions about our future geographic location. Never has Dave once turned to me and said, "We have to live in ______ because that's where my job will be." Rather, it's been, "I can live anywhere. We'll make it work." This flexibility has rewarded Dave with amazing career opportunities, but not once has he emphasized his career over mine. If anything, I've pushed him, encouraging him to get his MBA as soon as possible so that we could move out of the country for a little bit.

In college, I thought that I'd be single, travelling all over the world making my career happen. But what's even better? Travelling all over the world with my best friend and partner, discovering in bits and pieces what exactly it is that I'm meant to do. Nothing's set in stone about what I'll be doing come September when I've completed my grad school program and summer language intensive, but I'm absolutely confident that Dave has my back no matter what I -- we -- choose to do. And for that, I'm one lucky girl.