It's that Crispness In the Air

Fall is here.  And to celebrate, I'm writing this under a tree at St. Mark's with a mocha while admiring the nerdy boy in a cardigan.  (Side note:  If only he were wearing plaid, and I had the guts to say hello.)  And going to Oktoberfest in the mountains tomorrow.  I hope the trees have turned.  I'll still love them if they haven't.

This changing season and crispness in the air makes me miss the Midwest terribly.  Words I never thought I'd utter.  For the first time in a long time, I want to go home.  To the place where I grew up, where the family that chose me lives.  To the land of dairy aroma, traditional family values, and small town boys and girls.  For the first time in a long time, I might be a little homesick.  Or possibly very nostalgic.

I'm also bored.  Proof of said boredom?  In the past six days, I've tried three new recipes with tofu.  I get on (what my sister and mom call) a "kick," where I go crazy with a concept or idea and beat it dead until it seems normal, as though it were always part of my convictions and lifestyle.  I made meatballs, mousse, and stir fry.  Next week I might try a cheesecake or "meatloaf."  Secret?  It was on Manager's Special at King Sooper's for 89 cents.  And I was bored.

And I miss writing.  In my lit classes, I always felt a little out of the loop.  My admiration for Tolstoy never surpassed my love (borderline obsession?) for Donald Miller, and smirk from Whitman's wit never trumped the laughter inspired by Billy Collins.  Plus, I didn't scheduled writing into my iCal like I did for the elliptical or girls' night.  Regardless of the facade, I'm a nerd.

Even though I don't handle boredom well- and my restlessness often transitions into discontent and preoccupation-I'm determined to learn to live with it, learn from it, and become a better woman from it.  My life feels like an extension of yellow:  Nothing has stopped (I'm still dreaming and thinking), and I'm preparing to go... somewhere, although the destination hasn't clearly arrived.  So while I learn to live better in the moment, enjoy opportunities authentically, and appreciate a pause, I conclude that this missing things means my significance is in a different world, a bigger vision, and an eternal kingdom.

Love from beneath an umbrella.