philadelphia dreaming

My best friend Krysia and I have a dream.

It's a beautiful dream that has existed since our youngest years. Back in the day, we used to talk about how one day we would own a bed and breakfast, in which Krysia would run the front of the house, I would cook all the food, and our third friend would serve meals to guests on her roller-skates. Very sensible, really. 

Sometimes we would practice our skills, to the point of venturing to the park across the street to retrieve onion grass that would soon be sautéed and tasted before tossed in the trash. Or we would concoct marvelously strange drinks consisting of tea, pepsi, lemon, and various other ingredients, later to be forced upon my gracious grandad, who would unfailingly respond with, "that's good!", which fueled our giggles. Sometimes we would practice our entrepreneurial skills with the always-expensive lemonade stand, or we would let our tastebuds guide menu exploration by tracking down that friendly neighborhood summer jingle until our hands were gripping skylite or spearmint snow cones topped with drippy marshmallow sauce.

Although it was all a distant dream at that point, it has all started to become tangible reality since. We have both matured into our designated roles, realizing that our gifts and talents lie in these areas (although the roller-skating seems to have fizzled out). We have been pursuing them through our jobs this summer and it's our goal to come up with a business plan for some sort of cafe or coffee shop by the time we return to school. We have been brainstorming concepts and exploring, both physically and electronically, different cities to see where we might fit. 

And last week... we got to explore Philly.

It's kind of funny actually. For some reason, Philly has just kept arising in both of our lives, both separately and together, in conversation or news articles or inspirations. And neither of us had ever been there. Thus, we're both intrigued by this historic city. So last week, when I had to go to the Italian Consulate to apply for my visa, we and my mom made a day trip of it. And though we'd heard various opinions of this Filthadelphia, we both loved it.

words, a prequel.

It seems that I've been all over the place again. I don't know how it happens, but each week seems to flit past my eyes before I even realize how far into the month we are. The only reason I know the date on a regular basis is because almost daily, my sharpie-gripping hands write onto masking tape those two or three numbers separated by a slash, in order to keep track of all the jolly goods we make at the bakery. I'm thankful for that because otherwise, I'd have no idea what day it is. Probably ever.

Life just seems to be accelerating more and more, and my greatest desire in a normal week is to have one day to just be in the moment. To squint my eyes, gather my thoughts, focus, and try to wrap my head around what is actually happening in my life. It's almost August already. Wasn't it just the first day of summer, like last week? Some weeks I achieve that, and the respite rejuvenates my soul, giving it rest more than ever before. I find joy again and I'm reminded of truth. And I'm recharged, ready to go until the next time that day comes. And then, some weeks don't hold such a day. Some seem to just push me along while I try to look back, point at what has happened, and understand.

Last week, for example. My cling to clarity and peace boiled down to one single desire: to chop garlic. That's it. All week I was craving this. That someone would stick me in a kitchen by myself, give me everything I need, and set me off. To chop garlic. To sizzle it in olive oil. To create a savory mess that begins on a cutting board, matures in a pan, and settles down to rest on a plate. To cook and get my hands dirty and let creativity and soul run free a bit. And though all of that didn't play out, I've had moments of it. And those moments have been completely and thoroughly refreshing. This therapy- I've learned it by reading Bread & Wine by Shauna Niequist. Until finishing her book, I didn't realize how tangibly healing it is to cook and return to the flavors that feel like home. I didn't know it was okay to rest that way, that God actually loves when I rest through the creative output He has instilled in me. I'm thankful to be understanding that more.

So I'm beginning to learn that honestly, life is just this way sometimes. I'm not the only one experiencing it, and others are experiencing it much more intensely. And it's going to be okay. All I need are those moments, those hours, or even days if I'm lucky, of space to be reminded of truth and to do things that bring my soul its greatest delight.

In the midst of all this, I'm seeing how consistent God is. How remarkably He catches my eye with something everyday but also intricate, like the sky. That's mostly where I've been seeing Him lately, come to think of it. And when I settle my mind to focus on Him, how steadily He speaks truth to me and refutes the lies that I so quickly am convinced of. He is beautiful and sweet, that is certain.

So for now, it's only words, in an effort to explain my situation. Soon, hopefully this week, I'll share in further detail about my foodie occurrences as of late. I can't wait to tell you about them.

Until then, seek your respite. Perhaps garlic. Or a good book. Or travel. Or family. Or coffee. Or coffee and something else, if you're anything like me. And enjoy.