Stop Here

Some days I think my train stop was made for me. Walking from Union Station to the ‘L’, the Sears Towers come into view as traffic and tunnels take over the street. The city’s energy palpates, even during early morning with buildings reminding us that there are limits beyond the sky.

The ‘L’ train then moves us through the city, passing buildings before looping outside the city. Here is where you get to be on the outside looking in (last week’s post). That scene puts me in my place everyday. Pulls me out of my introspection. Inspires me to aspire.

The familiarity of Polk Station is like a gentle friend, calming amidst chaos. Grounding. Dunkin Donuts is right at my stop, which reminds me of my grandfather each morning as he used to buy us donuts by the dozens just so his girls had ‘something sweet like them.’ I feel like it’s his way of saying I’m still here with you kid.

University of Illinois Library is right across the street from the train stop. If you don’t know I LOVE libraries. It used to be my dream to be a librarian and read every book in the county library. Dreams may have shifted over the years, but my loving of reading and learning is so ingrained in my, I can’t imagine life without it.

I pass a sign saying, “Keep Having a Good Day” each morning and evening. Wish I knew who wrote it so I could thank them for the encouragement.

I then walk along the campus, which feels safe and familiar. And as I walk past the medical school, the architecture reminds me of Fletcher Hall, my sophomore year dorm. There I learned how to TRULY live in community and that life can happen in the small moments just as profoundly as it does in the grand.

Before crossing the street I usually turn back around, seeing one last glimpse of Sears Tower and where I came before going to the hospital.  

As I made this walk yesterday, I smiled realizing how my morning path is literally paved. Paved with the roots of family rituals, childhood dreams and lessons from adventures. My heart became overwhelmed today though because it felt like those who made those marks were there with me. Like they were lining the path cheering me on as I walked into a new day at fieldwork.

Honestly, this experience is proving more terrifying, gratifying and refining then I expected. Some days I feel invincible and others about to crumble. But my morning walk reminds me of where I’ve been, who helped get me there and where I am heading.

Perhaps people don’t cross our paths. Maybe they strengthen it. Define it. Line it.

Outside Looking In

Chicago is a pretty big city. Meaning you can’t always get around with your car or feet alone. So public transport (Metra and the ‘L’ train) has quickly become a friend of mine.

Streets become filled with people coming and going, each car or train with a story of someone off to work or school to create their day.

Being on the morning Metra train from the burbs into the city people are sleepy-groggily boarding only to prop their heads against the window until the skyline comes into view. It’s a sweet time, knowing we are the only ones awake and when the skyline comes into view, it’s as if the city was waiting for us to wake it. For our greeting so these buildings can be filled with workers who will create, build and collaborate. People who will make a day.

From there I jump off to catch the L to take me to the hospital. The L is kind of like an old school monorail (being a Florida girl, I can’t help but make reference!). So the views from above are amazing! People walking from street corner to sidewalk, cars moving past below and all the while we are above, starting our day.

But my favorite view so far has to be as we approach Polk Street. The tracks go outside the city, almost circling around the Loop. Each morning, I get to be on the outside looking in. Deciding what am I going to take with me into my day and what needs to be left out. Am I going to bring agendas, pride and guardedness? Or am I going to bring love, grace and allow God to walk before me?

The line has stopped. Time to decide and start the day.

What's Next?

I get this question almost anytime I talk about this season of my life. It comes from a place of anticipation, engagement and interest on their part. But recently, my heart has grown fearful at the numerous options laid before me to the point where I want to wear a T-shirt that says, “What’s Next? I don’t know. Ask me in a year.”

Silly and ridiculous I know, but it would be clearer then the many conversations had that go something like this, “Ummm, well…I do this and then I am not really sure. I’m praying about it and leaving it up to God…um…yeah.” Uncertainty has become an unwelcomed friend.  

Having driven the road of 75 many times, the usual stops occurred, peach farm and the cheapest gas station around ($1.89 per/gallon). The road has been a part of my life for so long, from trips in high school from Tennessee to Florida, to summers spent in North Georgia and the countless ‘Tour De Florida’ throughout college. And while this season of vagabond, nomadic life has been grand, I can’t help wonder what lies on the other side? The stable side, you know, the one where you aren’t living out of a suitcase?

But is that me coveting something that God has not given me? What if this IS the life I am called to and I just missed the message?

I would live in my head with these questions for months if it were my way, analyzing and synthesizing responses. Thankfully my sister isn’t this way. She gets to the heart of the matter and asks the questions on mind and heart with such intention. So it should come as no surprise that she asked me, “When are you going to stop this nomadic season and settle?” 

 Earlier this week I sat on the comfy couch in the very loving home of the Patterson’s. They are the anchors to Gainesville that remind you that life can be done, just trust in God. The question came up of what’s next and I hemmed and hawed with the typical response like the one shared above. What I got was unexpectedly refreshing. “I’m not God, but here’s my opinion….”what followed was truth my heart needed to hear that has led me to this:

Psalms 103- God makes known His plans and pardons us, heals us even. So why are we still living in this analysis of paralysis, where we don’t know which way to turn out of fear that it will be the ‘wrong’ choice, so we don’t move at all? When He gave us the freedom to live we chose to think about that freedom rather than live it?

Now back to my sister's question. When is the nomadic lifestyle ending? Soon. What's next? I don't know yet, but something grand, of that I am certain. 

Moving Up (North that Is!)

I apologize for my silence on the blog over the better part of a month. Here’s the update: I finished a rotation my Gainesville rotation with Sensory Integration (I’ll post on this experience soon…putting the final details into the post), I packed all my belongings-books, clothes, books, journals, shoes, and did I mention books?- into the ‘Green Machine/Sven’ (my wonderful Green Honda) and started my drive north!

This probably was the most emotional time to leave the state of Florida, knowing that my return won’t be until mid-December at earliest and potentially not permanent. With that being said, there is a lot to process and new post ideas keep popping into my mind (along with photos to go with!) Here’s a sampling of the works in progress…

“Having driven the road of 75 many times, the usual stops occurred, peach farm and the cheapest gas station around ($1.89 per/gallon). The road has been a part of my life for so long, from trips in high school from Tennessee to Florida, to summers spent in North Georgia and the countless Tour De Florida throughout college. And while this season of vagabond, nomadic life has been grand, I can’t help wonder what lies on the other side? The stable side, you know, the one where you aren’t living out of a suitcase…”

“There’s something about the morning stillness. When coffee is still being brewed and the sounds of feet running throughout the house is a distant echo. In that morning stillness we reflect, we share and we begin…”

“She walked downstairs to join us in the kitchen. With yummy creamer and sunlight streaming in we asked her how she felt, expecting an outpouring of emotions. Instead she smiled and said, ‘I get to marry him today,’ and her peaceful smile reassured us that was all that mattered…”

I’ll keep you updated on the road as the journey continues! For now know that I am safe, God is good and life IS a grand adventure!

Love,

Danielle