Norway.

A couple of weeks ago, I sat up late one night with my boyfriend telling him about my adventures in Norway. It was really late, so I had my eyes closed, but my mind was wandering back to the images that I had stored away, so I ended up describing everything I could to him. I felt like, in a sense, I had returned, and the comfort of the place was still there for me.  Here are a few of my favorite memories.

I remember the sound of the Boeing 747 as it prepared for landing. Jen, Rachael, and I woke from our slight slumber to see rolling green hills, red roof tops of homes, and each other's wonderful expressions of early morning and excitement. Little did we know how much our lives would change over the next 6 weeks.

                                       Rachael and I at the airport before heading to Oslo!


Beauty surrounded me in this place, almost as if I were living in a dream. The buildings, places, city, and country inspired me with the beauty that surrounded me, and I often would return to my dorm room to write out all of my "sketched"ideas from my iPhone notes to paper. To understand the breath of life that was instilled into me, I have to return to the entrance to my door, room 402, building I, on the fourth floor of Blindern Dormitory at the University of Oslo.

Blindern Dormitory consists of 5 yellow buildings with a beautiful courtyard with a fountain in the center. Trellises of red roses and ivy climb the buildings, but only up to the second story. I'll never forget the moment when I climbed up the four flights of stairs with my skeleton key balanced in my hand, my mammoth suitcase, and my purse carefully clenched between my teeth. The green doors welcomed me with my name and where I was from carefully written on a simple piece of paper. I carefully slid the skeleton key into the tiny key hole, heard the latch click, and walked into a room that will forever be an escape for me. The walls were a crisp white with hardwood floors, my bed was white with crisp white sheets, and there was a window- an amazing, beautiful window with hunter green curtains that overlooked the back of Blindern. The ceilings had deep, romantic angles that framed the walls for conversations that took place between my roommate and I until all hours of the night. Upon entering the room, I saw the most beautiful postcards written in a language that I could not read. Those post cards served as opportunities to imagine stories, so I never asked Salo what they actually meant until a couple of nights before I left.

                                                             
                                                               Blindern Dormitory

Blindern

                                                                       Metro


The first night that I stayed there was the most calming evening. Considering I am a quiet person with a teaspoon of anti-social and a dash of hermit, I decided to stay in for the evening for some peace, quiet, and rest. The sun, of course, refused to go down, so the evening left me curled up on the desk, looking out the window with yarn, crochet needles, hot tea, and Ray LaMontagne playing softly in the background. I watched it rain. I watched the sun flirt with the horizon. I watched people stumble by late  in the night, never knowing that someone was watching them. I watched the metro train go by, filling the room with a perfect arpeggiated triad with a diminished seventh that always found tonic as it accelerated.  I remember the smell of my hot tea, the joy of finishing a scarf, climbing into bed the first night, and the comfort of my roommate quietly coming in the door. That night was perfect, quiet, and time for me to reflect and prepare for the adventures ahead.

Lets be honest- I love to run. After being cooped up on the plane for hours and hours, I decided to grab my new found friend, Johnnie the Brit, and go for a run at 11pm a couple of days later. Johnnie and I ran about 2 miles in the city when the sun was just giving us enough light. This run would be a great warm up for our next adventure, which turned out to take a heck of a lot longer than the 2 mile run. The next night, Rach and Jen decided that they wanted to go down to the opera house, so I decided to tag along with them and Johnnie the Brit. Rachael told us that it would only take about 15-20 minutes, so I naturally grabbed my hermit objects, which were my journal and book, The Lovely Bones.

It took 2.5 freaking hours.

Granted, it was beautiful once we got there. We ended up sitting on the top of the opera for about an hour, turned to go back, got on the metro, but the metro shut down at 12 am. So, another 2.5 hours later (2-3 am) we arrived back at Blindern. Worth it? Yes, without a doubt.


Another great memory was the afternoon at Sognsvann Lake. I ended up walking around the edge of the lake with my camera in tow. I ended up standing waist deep, in the lake, with 2000 dollars worth of camera equipment just to take pictures of lily pads. This is a short snippet of that day, but it was a beautiful day full of pictures, friends, and lots of food.

One weekend, I booked a train ticket to Gothenburg, Sweden. Mike, Phil, Rach, and I stayed at a youth hostel outside of the city, which was an experience within itself.  Here are a couple of pictures-

Moose and I at the hostel. 

                                                  One of my favorite pictures from Sweden

                                                           Published 2010 in Trillium

Lollipops!

One afternoon, Rachael and I decided that we would grab some friends and go to the island of Langoyene off the coast of Oslo. We reached the ferry around 12 pm and arrived at the island around 12:30 with afternoon clouds, drizzles of rain, and the sun breaking through the clouds at random intervals during the day. Of course, I brought my camera and journal on our mini day trip. This led to me being social for a bit and then venturing off to take pictures, write, and rock climb the sides of the island.

                                                                     Langoyene

                                                                     Langoyene

Purple shells on the island

My trip to Bergen happened about 3 weeks into the program. On the day that we left, I remember walking out of my dorm to see a huge red double decker bus. I immediately ran to the top of the bus to snatch a window seat so I could take pictures. I ended up taking pictures for the entire first day of the bus ride with my headphones on, curled under a blanked, only to see the most beautiful scenery possible. That night, we landed in a beautiful hotel in a small little town. Jen and I decided to room together for that trip, so we ran up to our room, threw open the door, dropped our stuff, and pulled back the curtains only to find a mountain with a waterfall extending all of the way down the mountain. Needless to say, Jen and I stayed up writing most of the night talking and writing.

                                              This was one of my 'drive by shooting' shots

The next morning, I was the definition of a hot mess. I woke up late  and went to breakfast, sporting my purple P.J. shorts, moose shirt, hair twirled on top of my head, my glasses, and......my retainer. We are not talking about a normal metal retainer...oh no. We are talking about a TMJ, hunk of plastic, discusting retainer. I grabbed my breakfast, sat down, snarfed, and ran upstairs to try to redeem myself. Because of my tardy awakening, my window seat from the day before was already taken, so I took the only one that was left in order to take pictures. After we took off for a while, we stopped to take a tour through the Sognefjord, which was one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. I ended up taking a few pictures and sleeping after we boarded the bus to finish our journey to Bergen.

Sognefjord

Published in Trillium 2011. All rights reserved. 

A small town in the Sognefjord

                                                                               Sognefjord

Bergen consisted of beautiful old buildings, fish markets, a fortress/castle, unusual sculptures, and interesting museums. We also ventured to Edvard Grieg's house (AND I TOUCHED HIS STEINWAY....sorry) and Oleg Bull's house. I played some of Grieg's music during high school band, so I was beyond excited. Anyway, here are a few pictures from that weekend.

                                                       The row of buildings in Bergen

The view out of my hotel room window

The fortress/castle 

A sculpture and I in Bergen

The next adventure took place in Hallingdal, Norway. Rach, Jen, and I decided to go on this trip together. We stayed at a beautiful lodge in the middle of nowhere with a small animal farm in the back.

This is where it gets funny.

Sometimes being antisocial comes with consequences. On such occasion, I decided to go outside the fence into wild brush on the mountain and take my camera along with me. Once I got a little further up the mountain of brush, I heard a very distant ringing sound. My curiosity was sparked, so I decided to follow the sound. The noise kept getting louder and louder and louder. Finally, I saw the origin of said ringing- sheep. Yes, sheep. I got a little close to them, took a couple of pictures, and then noticed that the largest sheep did not look happy with me at all. So me, my camera, and the sheep with the cow bell took off down the mountain. Now, I will admit, I have two left feet, so the image of me with my camera being chased down a mountain by a sheep with a cowbell is quite a comical image. I remember looking up at a brief moment to see Jen and Rach with very puzzled faces. Thank goodness that I got up enough speed to jump the fence just in time.

Blueberries in Hallingdal!

Rachael and I- This was the best picture of the brush that I had to run through.

Bunnies!

The sheep that chased me down the mountain...

A favorite memory from traveling to Hallingdal was the old train ride for 20 miles of our journey. I got to see some beautiful country side and I got to hang off the side in order to take pictures. It was a beautiful, peaceful few moments in between the cars of the train.

Published in Trillium 2011. All rights reserved.
I was hanging off of the side of the train.

Leaving a station

The rest of my 6 weeks consisted of nightly tea tunneling through the dorms, adventures around the city, locking myself in the piano room just to play for an hour,  and camping at Langoyene for the last weekend.

Tea spot :)

Camping on the island

I remember the night before I left Norway like it was yesterday. I packed and packed, cried and cried, smiled, and played piano with Matt at the closing of ISS 2010. The morning of my flight, I hugged Salo goodbye, grabbed my bags, got on the metro, switched to the train, checked in at the airport, got on my plane, and cried as I watched the terminal numbers decrease- 48, 47, 46, 45, 44, 43, 42, 41....

And then we were off.


Tears came and went throughout the rest of the flight, which are permenatnly stained in my Norway journal due to my pickiness of Pilot V7 pens (they bleed like crazy, but flow beautifully...you must try them).

My life has changed drastically and in wonderful ways since I went to Norway, but if I had to pick a time when my life changed and influenced who I am now, Norway would be it. I am much more aware  of cultures, who I am, and how different cultures influence others. I want to go back by myself once i have traveled around to the other countries on my "to see" list. Speaking of which, I just sent in my application to study abroad in County Cork, Ireland in the spring, and I am planning to tour England/Scotland after I finish at U of R!  Fingers crossed!!




Sarah

Home.

I went to lunch the other day at a Chinese joint with some of my colleagues. Of course, as tradition calls, I had to get a fortune cookie on my way out the door. I opened it up and read "Everything will fall into place." On my way back to court, I thought and thought about the last few months of my life. Things have gotten better- my grandfather is healing beautifully and sounds better than he did when I was child, I've been accepted to the University of Richmond, my family as a whole is doing well, I have had my surgery and I am walking perfectly on my knee (I've been able to wear heels for the past two days...score!), I have fallen in love with law, my plans for Richmond seem to be flowing effortlessly together, and I even have a job in Williamsburg for most of August! My future seems to be coming together and falling into place.

But of course, with all major moves, comes sadness, a feeling of emptiness, and nostalgia. The past couple of days, I've been reflecting on Barry Lopez's, "A Literature of Place" as well as the image of home.  Let me recommend that you read this before you continue to delve into this post. 

http://arts.envirolink.org/literary_arts/BarryLopez_LitofPlace.html/

Trust me, it is worth the read. 

My father and I decided to get up for breakfast after I spent all night dreaming about egg & cheese biscuits from Chickfila (major, major weakness). On the way to town, we discussed the feelings of home, and what we actually consider to be home. Since most of you probably know me from my later years (wow, that makes me sound old...), let me start from the beginning. 

When I close my eyes and think of the word home, I see myself at a kitchen table with three other chairs, one filled with my sister. There are two windows in front of me looking out to the woods with a certain tree buried behind the trees lit effortlessly by the sun. The leaves glimmer in all shades of green and every noise that surrounds this image disappears. My father is in the kitchen making my favorite meal as a child- alfredo macaroni and cheese. In this moment, I look around trying to place every single object that was so carefully placed in that room of the house. 

This memory stems from my home in the suburbs of Atlanta, where I lived for the first 13 years of my life. So for your entertainment and a deeper look into home, I will provide you with a few other favorite memories. 

During the first week of kindergarten, I walked into the gym where my school's afternoon program took place for kids who's parents worked late. The first person I saw was a little girl wearing a beautiful dress with black hair, bright red lips, and translucent skin crawling on the floor. I decided that she looked a lot like Snow White, so I plopped to the ground and started crawling around with her. Honestly, we've been inseparable since. Victoria and I grew up together in an art colony, where both of our mothers had art studios. One of my favorite memories with V-tor was the day we snuck out of the house when we were about 8. Victoria and I were the outdoorsy kids- we were always outside building forts, rolling in the mud, swimming in the creek, and trying to figure out which leaves tasted better as frosting on mud pies. This particular day was a cold, December afternoon with snow clouds threatening to blanket the ground. I had the idea to go out in the woods to go 'splorin, so we bundled up, made two thermoses of hot chocolate, and set out. 

       I clearly remember the cold air stinging my face as we ran down our typical pathway into the woods. We passed our forts, the ravine, and the babbling creek that always greeted us on our way to our woods. We kept trekking on and on to the point where we couldn't see the house anymore.  I had only been back that far once or twice, but always with an adult. We found old river beds, tree roots, trees with twisted limbs that looked like a sculpture, but what we really found will forever stay ingrained as a picture in my mind. I remember my sister's gasp and how silent the world sounded as she took in that breath and the snow began to fall. In front of us were three white horses grazing in an old pasture, one that I didn't even know existed. Since they were a couple yards away, we quietly climbed into one of the sculpture trees with our hot chocolate as we watched the fairy tale unfold in front of us. Eventually, we heard my mother's worried voice carry through the woods and eventually dragged our feet back home. Victoria and I still talk about that day, since we have never been able to see it again. We've even wondered wondered if it was real because it seemed so much like a dream. 

Victoria mostly lived with us all through our childhood, so many days were spent with the pitter patter of our feet running to the other's room to share our dreams from the night before, toaster strudels in the morning, classes together all day, and days spent roaming around the colony. We were the odd kids that never were able to fit in, but we always had each other. We still do. 

                                                        Victoria & I on her 5th Birthday.

In August 2011,  I rerouted my Labor Day plane ticket from VA to Memphis, TN to get away and get my mind off of things. I got a taste of home that I hadn't felt in a long time when I got to see her. We stayed up each night until 3 talking about life and old memories, including the ones that I've written down. Here are a few pictures from Labor Day weekend. 

               We decided to climb on the stage at the Hard Rock Cafe and have our own jam session. 

  

                                                        On the way to the airport

                                                   My brother Drew, V-tor, & I reunited. 

                                            Can you guess who the redheaded stepchild is?

When I moved to the mountains in the eighth grade, I never expected the experiences that were in store for me. I left behind my sister, my hometown, and everything I knew for the first 13 years of my life. While we only moved an hour away, it certainly was a little bit of a culture shock and a major change in my life. For example, the nearest grocery store was 15-20 minutes away. I remember the first night that I slept at our rental house (we lived in a rental while our house was being built) with the windows open, a cool mountain breeze tracing the walls of my room, and the sound of absolutely nothing. Nothing littered the sound of peace in that room. When the sun rose the next morning, I was greeted by the smell of breakfast and the most beautiful view of Wolffork Valley and the surrounding mountains (if you have never seen pictures of Wolffork Valley, I suggest you take a gander on Google). I knew that the mountains and valleys of this place would cradle me through the rest of middle/high school, and in that, I found an unrelenting rush of peace.

        

Here are a few picts of Wolffork Valley-

 When I think of home during high school, I think of the smell of boiled peanuts, the sound of cleats hitting the pavement, late nights at WaHo, rock climbing, and the adrenaline of marching onto the field. I've played flute for the past 10 years, so most of my middle and high school career revolved around band camps, festivals, marching season, symphonic season, and band trips. Every Friday night in fall consisted of football, warm-ups, and marching on the field during halftime with our reputation playing into the cold mountain air. I remember the nerve wracking feeling of a 30 measure solo that I played in Washington, D.C. (no pressure), the pressure of conducting my senior night, and the joy of playing that same solo at my graduation with the band. I wouldn't change that experience for anything, considering it was the experience that helped to define home during that time of my life. Here are a few favorite pictures-

                                             Typical Friday Night Home Football Game

                                                       Senior Night (Yes, near Halloween)

                                                 My final salute before conducting half time. 

                        Nathan (Drum Major) and I (Assistant Drum Major) conducting stands music. 

And now, as life is moving forward and my days in Georgia are limited, home will always be with my family, perched on top of a mountain in a small town with the opry house. Big cities, my career, and my future will never, ever change that. When I close my eyes and say the word "home," it will forever be that house where I grew up in, but in conversation, it will be with my family, no matter where they are. 

                                               And right now, I am thankful it is here....

                                         Because I want to eventually return to this...

                                     And spend winters curled up at the fireplace with a book

                                  And always wake up to the beauty that God gives us each day.

*Courtesy to Keith Nelms for the photos of home! :)

I challenge you to read Barry Lopez, close your eyes, and write down your first image of home. You might be surprised at what you see.

And now I'm off to work out, cook dinner, and pick out an outfit for a date to the Symphony! So excited!

Stay tuned for a post about Norway!

Blessings,

Sarah

Richmond.

In case any of you are curious as to why I'm going to The University of Richmond, here ya go...

               As I've mentioned before, I am quite the free spirit. This past year, I discovered my interest in both counseling and law. Not knowing which path to take, I prayed and prayed for a sign to be given to me. I knew that law school right off the bat would probably not be a great idea for me, so I started researching paralegal studies after I applied to graduate school for counseling. The number one school that stuck out to me was the University of Richmond because of its reputation, great location, beautiful campus, and law programs in general. After I was accepted into counseling, I knew that this would be a difficult decision to make, so I prayed for God to literally hit me on the head with signs for which path he wanted me to take. The night after I discussed this option with my parents, I came into work to see a beautiful coffee table book titled, "A Portrait of the University of Richmond," sitting on my desk. I thought that this was a complete coincidence and that there was no way in heck that this was a sign, but the Lord probably laughed at my lack of faith in the moment.

               When I went to Nashville, TN less than a week later, I confided in two of my professors for advice. After walking and talking with them for a bit about the paralegal option, I prayed again for a sign. Suddenly, something caught my eye in the grass, so I went over to the shimmery object and looked down to see a guitar pick with a verse from Romans 10:14 (NIV) which states, "How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? 15 And how can anyone preach unless they are sent? As it is written: “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!”

So, while this verse isn't exactly point blank, "Here, Sarah, this is the path that I want for you to take..." I figured that not many people would see a shimmery guitar pick with a verse from Romans while saying a silent prayer, so I took it as a potential sign. Also, while in Nashville, I attended a publishing workshop in a room with a quote in huge letters on the door by Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., which read, "A moment's insight is sometimes worth a life's experience." For those of you who are close to me, you know my connection to Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., and why I completely froze in the hallway with my mouth gaping wide open.

Stubborn ol' me started listening at this point. 

       Something has occurred pretty much every single day from that point on. In fact, there are really too many occurrences to mention in this blog post! Almost every time I've been behind a really slow car, it's either from Virginia or from Richmond Co, GA, which always made me giggle in the midst of mild road rage (not that I get frustrated when people drive WAY below the speed limit or anything...). 

         My wonderful parents took me to the beach right after graduation, which was much needed. We decided to go out to a Greek restaurant for Mother's Day dinner on the island. When we walked out, the only GA tag in the parking lot was my father's truck. Every other tag had a Virginia license (and we are talking about maybe 10+ other vehicles). My parents and I were in hysterics. Once I got home from the beach, I started unpacking my suitcase when suddenly, a bright orange hand towel fell out between a rolled up shirt. I picked it up, unfolded it, and it read in bright blue letters, "GO VIRGINIA!" Well, I thought that this was a prank from my parents, so I immediately went upstairs with said orange hand towel. Neither one of them had ever seen it before in their life, so the mystery of the Virginia towel continues.

       I met a lawyer who works for the government in D.C. this weekend.  He was so very kind to talk to me quite a bit about becoming a paralegal in D.C., what I needed to know, and that the post-undergrad certification at U of R is a very good idea to become a paralegal in D.C. I was very encouraged, considering that this is where I eventually plan to end up. And believe it or not, after a strict, business like conversation (with absolutely no mention of what I'm about to say), he really pressed and encouraged me to sit for the FSOT. 

      In case you are wondering, that had to be the most unflattering, mouth gaping expression that anyone has ever seen on me. I'm sure it was grotesque and probably the polar opposite of classy, but I recovered. 

I looked at him and replied,

"Sir, with all due respect, why do you think I should sit for the FSOT?"

"From what I can tell just by talking with you, you've got what it takes to at least study, sit for it, and possibly make it in."

       And yes, at this point I REALLY almost dropped my cake, camera, and drink. Irony has a great way at getting to me in the most unlikely places possible. It's ironic enough that my path has led me to VA and D.C. anyway. Thankfully, I do know what this test is, how extremely difficult it is, and how much I would need to study and consider an IR degree of some sort before even taking the test. I don't know if this is my path or not, because right now I'm dreaming of something more than a master’s, but nonetheless, I was very flattered. It's always up to God, not me. 

       Another odd occurrence happened to me today while I was in the E.R. this morning at St. Simons. Thankfully, it had a lovely outcome, and the situation could have been a lot worse! For those of you who do not know me well, I am deathly allergic to the smell, steam, or tiny bit of cross contamination with shrimp. My father and I went to get breakfast this morning and, of course, my scrambled eggs were somehow cross-contaminated with shrimp, so I landed myself in the E.R. for most of the morning with my throat mostly shut.

Great.

          While my nurse was giving me a 4 inch long needle of epinephrine straight into my abdomen, she told me about moving around with her husband, and she, of course, mentioned Richmond (And yes, I was deeply concerned and horrified about this going into my abdomen, but I was later told that I’m too thin to receive a shot of epinephrine anywhere else. While I am thankful that I am a whole lot thinner that I was this time last year, I would have really preferred it in the previous locations, thank you very much. OUCH!). My father asked her if she meant Richmond, Virginia, and she said yes! So after my initial clenching and suppressed scream from the shot (I have a high pain tolerance if that tells you anything), I spoke up about U of R. She couldn’t stop talking about how much she loved Richmond, so that certainly brightened my morning!

          Everything has fallen into place for this path, and I have no other person to give credit to except for God. I have an internship that, so far, has shown me that I really do have a passion for law, which certainly does run in my family. I feel that this career will tie my love and compassion for people, my work ethic, and my love for research together beautifully. The last time everything fell into place like this was when I switched my major to English from Music. 

And you know what?

I've never regretted it. Not once. 

I fell in love with every English class and also regained my passion music all over again. I feel the same way about this major decision in my life!

So, my first stop is the University of Richmond to attain my paralegal certification.

And my second stop?

Hopefully International, National Security, or Cyber Law at a law school in Virginia (yes, I will be declaring residency while I'm at U of R, which anther reason why I'm doing the paralegal side first). 

Richmond, here I come.

LSAT, here I come.

A new path that the Lord has so clearly paved for me, here I come.

I can't wait. 

        I truly believe that God has plans that are beyond the imagination. All you have to do is listen, even when it takes a little bit for you to understand that this is the right path. When you know that you are where you are supposed to be or go, it will be so clear to you that it might actually be comical, like in my case. The Lord always has a trick or two up his sleeve that are always in your best interest.

And, of course, as always, believe in yourself. Don't ever sell yourself short or settle for less than your best in all aspects of your life. 

Psalm 23.

Blessings Always,

Sarah

Moving...

I have a couple of blog ideas going, I promise!




I'm scrambling to try and move out of my apartment before the end of the month. It is so hard to have to leave, but I am so happy that one of my really good friends is taking it after me (Congrats on the job, John)! Leaving behind the first real place of your own after two years is so difficult, especially when your apartment is situated on a beautiful farm that encourages my hermit-like behavior.  Here are a couple of my pictures from my apartment!

As most people know, I am a major bargain hunter. Most of my apartment consisted of thrift shop finds, refinished furniture (by my mom and I), outlet store finds, Ebay bedding sets (see above), and antiques. One of my favorite finds is my headboard in this picture. My mother and I went on a junk store hunt one rainy Saturday and ran across this gorgeous, handmade headboard. On closer inspection, we discovered that it is made out of two old cabinet doors. If you are trying to furnish an apartment, go cheap! Your place will turn out looking quite different from most... :)

Here is my little living room! After everything that happened at the beginning of fall semester my senior year, I decided to go on a date with Mr. TJ Maxx to redecorate my living room to try to get rid of the memories that existed there (and my bedroom above, but the stuff in there had already been found). It turned out to be pretty therapeutic and extremely cheap! When in doubt about a room, outlet stores are a great option as well!

                                           

I spent a good bit of time this September and October roaming around the farm to clear my mind and find some semblance of peace. Of course, the best way to clear your mind and find peace is with a camera, right? This tire swing looks out on the barn and a beautiful pasture. It was certainly a place for me to sit, pray, and think. I'm so glad to have this picture as a reminder!

This was taken after a series of really bad storms. When I turned into my drive way, I almost steered straight into the fence because of this picture. Thankfully, this did not happen...BUT...I did end up putting the car in park to stand out of the moonroof of my little RAV just to get the height and angle that I desired. Double rainbows over your place does not happen very often!

These were taken pretty recently- I drove home after class on a beautiful, overcast day to find the fields laden with yellow flowers. It was absolutely stunning. The horses were roaming about their main grazing field, but with the way the sunlight was streaming through the clouds, it made them look like simple silhouettes until I got up close. Most of the horses on the farm are a deep chocolate color, so the contrasting tones of yellow and brown were most stunning.






Sorry for such a short entry, but I hope the pictures were somewhat contrasting with the previous entries! I hope to  have a little more time to write after I move the rest of my stuff out.


Blessings!
Sarah

Reflect.

I woke up at 7:30am, ready to start my typical, morning routine before class (typical for Sunday mornings) when it hit me-

I graduated from college yesterday.

Just to make sure that it wasn't a dream, I skipped over to my desk, only to be greeted by a glorious, leather book with my degree carefully placed inside. Thank goodness it wasn't a dream!

Alas, with every major milestone in life comes a series of reflections, whether they are in dreams, in spare moments of the day, or in conversations with your father on a back porch, waiting for an oncoming storm. How metaphorical, right? The past four years of college have been a whirlwind of new experiences, both large and small, that have shaped me into the person I am today. 

Here are a few things that I have reflected on in the past few hours that have changed me, shaped me, and made me appreciate life and what it really has to offer:

*I traveled to Sweden, Germany, & Portugal. I love to travel, and I'll go anywhere given half the chance. Paying my own way certainly taught me how to work really hard to save up for something that I really wanted.

*Won a scholarship through the Rotary Club to study abroad in Oslo, Norway. This is one experience that has honestly changed my entire life. Taking that step off that plane into the airport in Oslo showed me that I thrive with change and that it is really is good for me. 

*I fell deeply in love only to be utterly and unbelievably betrayed a year later. I've learned (and I'm still learning) how to heal from such betrayal. One thing that I have defiantly learned is the difference between the hard and easy way out. The easy way out is to be with someone else, make the same plans, suddenly shove all of the emotions aside of what has been left behind, and try to forget and replace the person that you left or left you.  The hard way is to handle the floods of emotions that catch you completely off guard (sometimes embarrassingly so), find a non-destructive outlet, pick up and sort through the pieces one shard of glass at a time, find the strength that God gave you, try to find closure in some form, whether you know why or when you know that the truth will never come, and move on when you know that you are at peace. After unknowingly taking the easy way, I chose to take hard way. Trust me, it is far from easy, but God has shown me a lot about who I am as a person and how I handle things. While this 'experience' is far from what I had hoped for, I am thankful, in a sense, that this is the path that I have chosen. My point is to take the hard way out- you'll grow in your faith, yourself, and you usually will not hurt anyone else in the process.

*I have made plans that have completely changed because they were not God's plans. Lesson learned- Trust God. He knows what is best for you.

*I've been stuck in an airport overnight, and believe me, being stuck at 4 am in Philadelphia will teach you how to be 'hood' really quick. Thank goodness that a family from Hamburg adopted me that night! I'm still so grateful for them. While this sounds like a crazy story (and it certainly is if you have about an hour to listen to the whole thing), they showed me just how much a small, extending, helping, kind hand could mean to someone else. 

*I have taken a train to a foreign country. I even saw a moose on the way! This certainly goes in the small category, but there is nothing like being on a train with a journal in your lap. It was truly humbling. 

*I learned how to ski with my hardcore grandfather who is probably in better shape than most people my age. One of my friends instilled this into my head- "You don't get old from exploring...You get old when you stop exploring." My grandfather is one of the youngest men I know, and I certainly want to keep exploring like him, no matter what my age.

 *I took the leap with my poetry and became a published poet and photographer. Submitting your work to the public eye is extraordinarily scary, especially since poetry is so personal!

*I started my own photography business at 21. I'm thankful that I did because it has certainly taught me a lot about handling funds and being patient with myself and my work!

* I can honestly say that I have laughed so hard that I've had to pull the car over. This happened on numerous occasions. Anytime I have a bad day, I try to remember those goofy moments! Take joy in the things that make you look and feel ridiculous...I promise that it is worth it.

* I picked up a paintbrush, grabbed some oil paint, and haven't stopped since. Finding an oasis with paint has been such a 'shaping' thing to me because my mind completely clears when the paint hits the canvas. Outlets that let you clear your head in a non-destructive manner usually bless you and others in the end.

* I've made the type of friends that listen, have picked me up and brushed me off, and have always been there, no matter what the circumstance. I wouldn't have made it without them there, especially this past year. True friends are the ones who have your best interest at heart, not theirs. Hold on to the people that truly know your best interest.

 *When I was 7, I came up to Dr. Hinson, the conductor of Piedmont College Chamber Singers, after his fall concert in 1997. I told him that I would be in his choir when I came college, and sure enough, I kept my word. I've shared so many emotions through music with this group that I cannot even begin to express in words. Having a group of people that you know will not judge you but are there to make music with you is one of the biggest blessings I have had in the past 4 years. These types of groups bring people joy and heal them when you least expect it.

*And trust me, not trying to blow my own horn, but I made Dean's List this year. Before you assume that I am trying to inflate my ego, let me explain this one a little bit. I am very open about having two completely separate learning 'difficulties,' because I want other people with similar situations to know that they can do it, despite the obstacles (I hate referring to them as disabilities, because the Lord takes away something in order to give you something else that is a gift from him). I have never, ever, ever used them as an excuse, but I have struggled to find ways around them. I was always the student that would spend hours studying and couldn't retain anything, which reflected in my grades.  This year, I finally found a way around one of them, which has made a huge difference in my life and my schooling. Underestimating myself and never having any confidence isn't something that I want for others to face. If you learn anything from reading this, may it be to always believe in yourself and your potential. 

*"Some people change, some people mutate." I have watched people that I placed a lot of respect, love, and trust in turn into someone that I had never met before. It is one of the hardest things in life to watch, knowing that you have no control over them. Thankfully, I am one who learns by watching other people make mistakes. My father once told me to try to envision yourself making the same stupid mistake. If you turn red by just thinking about it, it's probably not a good idea.

*And for some comical relief.... I was pulled over twice during college. The first time, I ran a red light after I had already stopped, saw the turning lane turn green, and I didn't have my glasses on. Whoops. The second time, our police officer in town pulled me over to give my family a sack of tomatoes. Welcome to Georgia, Y'all. Not only did I learn to be a little more careful at stoplights late at night, but I also learned to truly cherish the small things in life, even when it includes being blue lighted for a gift of homegrown tomatoes.

*Always keep your moral compass in check. This is, of course, a very broad statement but a very important one. 

*First and foremost, I really learned what it meant to have faith and trust God. It has been truly difficult some days, but he has never failed me, and he never will. Without God, I would never have reached this milestone in my life and seen the opportunity to learn something in the things listed above.  For this, I am forever grateful for Him.

WHEW. That only scratched the mere surface, but there are some of the most important 'perspectives' I can offer out of the 36 hours of reflections. Milestones in life are great for reflecting, but it can be a little overwhelming when it happens all at once. As I have mentioned before, writing is a great outlet. Take a few minutes to write out some of your experiences over the past few years, how they've shaped you, and what you've learned from them. It is very humbling, and you might be surprised at what you come up with. 

Sarah