We have one of our typical Olivia and Hannah heart-to-hearts. We’re tipping on the edge of 17. We’re clad in hoodies late at night. We have dreams and try our darnedest to pull ourselves up by the bootstraps.

I was telling her some things that I think I need to come out with. Whether 11:27pm is the best time to do it, is another matter. As she told me, “…write what needs to be written.”

I can’t see too far in front of my face right now. I know what the next steps are, but the rest fades and becomes very bokeh-like. That scares me a tiny bit.

I like knowing most everything and having it all planned out. Plus the occasional wild flying leap, that is my comfort zone. I’m cool with spreadsheets of 6 month, 1 year, 5 year, and 10 year business goals. My fingers can fly over keys, making plans to accomplish every one of those goals, hopping to each one in order like stepping stones.

Apparently, that doesn’t work well for too long. Things come to a screeching halt with the idea of making yourself, the level of comfort seeming off balance. Then you get stuck in what feels like a rut. Confusion and frustration both run rampant. It turns out that some things are a process and it takes time to understand being part of God’s story.

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A rebrand and redesign are both in the works right now. (There is no launch date. Let’s just pretend it’s a surprise!) Basically, I’m shaking everything up. Let’s make epic stuff happen!

Things are going to explode really close together. There will  be lots of happy launches (and relaunches) going on! Secret projects will become not-so-secret, too. You’ll want to keep an eye on my Facebook to stay up to date and Twitter to get little backstories.

I’ve searched the four corners of the Internet – Google turned upside down – and most all the good advice for teenage girls isn’t relevant to me. I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t frustrate me. The dreamt-of, gone-ahead-before-me person being completely unknown, however, I don’t necessarily believe that I’m alone… Like Olivia said, one of the biggest lies we can believe is probably the one telling us that we are all alone. To some degree, this feels like an inward battle – plus a heavy dose of outward battle.

I want to make something great of myself, for reasons more than a crown, applause, or a pat on the back. It was a long time that I thought greatness was directly correlated with my job, how successful I was. 2011 was the year, unbeknownst to me at the time, that initiated the redefining of how I thought of success.

Wanderlust has been one of the many things that’s been has been plaguing me and I haven’t been able contain it, so it has gone into words that flutter all over at the speed of lightening, snatching other dreams and thoughts into the mix. My mom thought I was half-joking that first week or more, then later whispered at some midnight hour, “You’re serious, aren’t you?” She wasn’t disapproving or negative, but her voice echoed what I was feeling… This is new, fresh ground. We haven’t been here before.

I keep telling myself the same things: I am okay. This is okay. It’s okay to be uncertain sometimes and it doesn’t mean you’ll mess up, but if you do, get back up because there’s an unlimited amount of love and grace that covers you. 

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Other collections of heart-healing, “This has been just what I’ve needed”,  stunning words:

Growing Up – Facing the in Between | Olivia Erickson

You are Not Alone | Olivia Erickson

On Dreaming | {clothed with love}

Inbox (1) : A letter to you, my friend. | Alex Beadon Photography

Untitled. [what a girl needs to hear] | Sincerely, Rachel Christine

Don’t Live in the Moment | The Underground Micaela

Stories are meant to be dangerous. | Love Wins

It’s the rest of the 50 that I haven’t seen, Ireland that I haven’t roamed over the hills of, Italy that I haven’t tasted, Africa that I haven’t felt the wild heart of, and the lands and streets beyond that I haven’t experienced – curious still. I can’t help but wonder, all of those places confined to the walls of my imagination still. Moments come and sometimes I rattle out words – pre-formed in my mind – at dizzying paces about these dreams and places.

But this thought rolls around in my head… What if, the wonder, the mystery of the unknown, is what’s making up half the fun of this? I’m curious about that. It doesn’t really stop every desire to experience the world, but the question of “what if” still lingers.

Am I the only one?

This tiny little wonderstruck boy in a big red store filled with other late Christmas shoppers… He had maybe filled into the shoes of about age 4, maybe 5? I was searching for this one gift in particular and every sense was shaken to it’s feet. I strolled on past the cards, headed out, and this bright, small, cheerful, and simply wonderstruck voice filled the air with the sounds of, “It’s a Christmas tree!”

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Sometimes I think we’re allowed experiences for sheer pleasure and because that might be the magic bullet that heals the unknown place in our soul, the one even we haven’t fully uncovered yet.

It’s not that I’ve left being all that, but for maybe the first time, I’m sensing a real evolution of myself – a constant, slight recreation of what has existed in a more plain state until that moment. I’m slightly oblivious until the reality of my life shocks me into feeling. It’s a very raw, open feeling that does something to my soul with every move I make.

I read words differently.

On Providing Space and Being Left Behind | The Outdoor Wife

that thing you did. | Love, Sara Sophia

I Am My Mother’s Daughter | A Deeper Story

the art of change. | Lauren Nicole Love

I see things differently.

Murmuration from Sophie Windsor Clive on Vimeo.

It thrills me to shoot again and again with these people and the amount of photogenic-ness they all have is insane. You can see the shoot I did with them last year here, which just further backs up that little bit about the common photogenic thread they all have. Speaking of threads, Melissa totally coordinated their outfits perfectly and it’s probably due partially to the fact that she is one ninja of a scrapbooker.

This is Thomas and Melissa – the ones I’ve known ever since I can remember. Thomas remembers things about me like how my 3 year old self would stare at him constantly. We sat in their kitchen and talked about them and their boys, Seattle, rocks (read below), and chocolate covered pretzels from past Christmas parties.

This is Bryson. Someone please tell him to stop being so cute.

This is Braden, also known as their resident geologist. This guy knows his stuff and he has the prettiest rocks ever, but he’d probably tell you that “Pretty Sparkly Rock” isn’t an actual name of a rock. Ask me how I know. (I kind of got told in the rock department.)

Y’all, thanks for letting me and my camera freeze part of your lives in time over and over. xo