#11: Real romance...

I have been meaning to write. Hoping to write. Some how in the past three days I haven't quite found the time.

There have been many thoughts swirling in my head. But for the sake of my brain (which has been crammed with coffee knowledge for the past three days), I can going to keep this post simple. I like simple.

Today I was scanning Pinterest, which is a common past time of mine when I don't feel like doing anything on my to-do list. Anyways, while scanning I stumbled on this blog post 20 Things I Want To Tell Engaged And Newlywed Women. First off I know I am not engaged or married, but as a woman I couldn't resist reading the post.
And what a great read it was. This post is filled with  words every woman should hear and read. I recommend you read it; it is the only way you will get the full affect.

#11: Real romance is finding that one spot in the crook of his arm to snuggle into, that shared look over the dinner table when the kids are acting crazy, and the way he fixes the leaky sink when he is dog-tired after work.

I liked this one. It just stuck for me. Romance isn't all what the movies show it to be. It is the bond, the love, the moments shared.
Thinking about it gives me butterflies.

Endless Sunshine

For me I find summer time a difficult time to write. The sunshine streaming through the window is more alluring than the computer screen. When I write I like to be comforted by a cozy sweater, while resting in an oversized, old fashion chair, with a cup of tea beside me. And those things don't occur in the summer. Rather I am out exploring grassy fields, adventuring over mountains, and basking in the skin bronzing sunshine.

Writing days are the days where autumn leaves cover the once green grass. Days when the temperature is a chilling -10 degrees. Days when the snow flies so heavily you can barely see past the tree outside your window. Those are the days; the days where you are held captive by walls.

For summer brings few words. Instead it brings exploration and discovery. It is the time to let loose, be free, and wander the beautiful land. A time where you can sleep underneath the stars without fearing frost bite. A time to bask your feet in the sun's rays in order to perfect the Chaco tan. But more important than star grazing and sun bathing is the moments created. The relationships built, tears shed, and laughs shared. It is the memories. The moments never to be forgotten. The moments that shape and pave who you are.

For the days of being held inside will come quick enough. And when those days come I can write of the adventures had, stories created, and time spent in the endless sunshine of summer.

I fell, and I fell hard.

The past five weeks I have been out of touch with what many call the "real" world. I haven't watched any of the London 2012 Olympics; I haven't had access to the internet. To put it plain and simple I was disconnected. Instead I was out climbing mountains, sleeping in a tipi, and falling deeply in love.

I fell, and I fell hard.

In a recent blog post my mom wrote this: "I listened as I heard a part of her heart falling in love with Montana. A part that was left there, to grow, so that she can return to reclaim it".

I grew in countless way. I lived. I loved.
I can't put it all down in words now, for everything is like stars scattered in the night sky. But, I promise to share all the stories of laughter, fear, and tears.

Stay in touch, for I will write. I promise.

Tea in a new way

For the past two weeks I have been drinking tea in a new way: smoothie form. It is just like being back up in MQT and sipping away on a smoothie from Smoothie King. Only, this isn't any plain jane strawberry banana smoothie. My smoothie: a Matcha smoothie.

A couple weekends ago I ventured out and went to a "Tea Cupping" class at Light of Day Organics in Traverse City. It was a pure delight. One of the best classes I have been to in a long time. (More to come on the delights of this class in a later post). For now the focus is Matcha. 

Matcha is:

"the oldest and most premium variety of green tea in Japan- the mother of all green tea! For over 800 years, Zen Buddhist monks have been using Matcha green tea as a meditational drink. Matcha is very exquisite; only a few dozen tea farmers in Japan own the extensive knowledge required to produce this tea. Matcha tea leaves grow slowly in shaded tea plantations. The fresh leaves are primarily handpicked, dried and ground by low friction granite stone mills into an ultra fine, jade green powder, and finally whisked traditionally with a bamboo whisk or can be prepared in a smoothie. The result is a unique, creamy velvet, full-bodied cup of premium green tea- extremely high in antioxidants, amino acids and other nutrients." 

To sum it all up Matcha is healthy. Very healthy.

In it all I decided to kick start a new lifestyle: a healthier, more productive, happier one. The Monday after returning home from a vacation I rolled out of bed at 5:30am. I spent the next hour of my morning on a bike ride, riding down to Holland State Park and beginning my morning alongside the lapping shore of Lake Michigan. Once I returned home I ate breakfast, jumped in the shower, and then enjoyed a cup of Chamomile tea all before 8am. By mid-morning I had scratched off half of the things on my to-do list.

I remember sitting outside that morning with my freshly made Matcha smoothie thinking to myself, "what a day it is going to be!"

Matcha Smoothie Recipe
In a blender blend:
1 cup pineapple juice
1 cup coconut milk or almond milk
1 banana (or fruit of your choice)
1/2 tsp. matcha powder (purchased at http://lightofdayorganics.com/).

Thanks to Light of Day Organics.

Tea, tea, and more tea

I have been attempting to post everyday this week. And while I have a couple posts in progress none are quite ready for their reveal. So I thought I would post a photograph. A photograph of all the tea we purchased while Up North. I have tried almost all of them (minus Sunday Morning, which I am waiting to make until Sunday morning, just for kicks).

All I can say is that spending those 10 days Up North visiting different tea shops, trying different teas, and learning more about tea increased my desire even more for a tea shop someday. Although that someday is a far ways off, I (with fingers-crossed) have a few possible "tea training" internships for next summer. 

Beauty

So often I get caught up in what beauty is. The world portrays a message to us, all of us young and old, that beauty is perfection. I believe beauty is the perfection of the imperfection (if that makes sense). To simplify: beauty is the signs of life being lived:

Florence Photo Credit: Sarah Huizenga

Sun-kissed skin. Fresh freckles.

The painting of a young child.

The weathered hands of an elderly woman.

Beauty is the little things.

I did a tiny bit of research and looked up beauty in the dictionary. Here is what I found. Beauty is "the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind". And you know what, I fully agree with that definition. Beauty is what pleases you. The qualities present, whether big or little, that bring joy. 

Tea, tea has a quality to it that brings me joy; therefore, I find a refreshing cup of tea beautiful. 

What got me thinking on all of this was a piece I read this morning. It is from a recent purchase of mine, a book of inspiration. Here is a part of what I read: 

"The beauty of life is everywhere around you. Open your eyes and see it, absorb it, appreciate it, reflect it and become a part of it. When you expect to see beauty, you will see it; whereas when you expect to see ugliness, you will do so. The choice is always yours". 

Soak in the beauty of life; for life is beautiful.

Stones as Art

June 7, 2012:

Tonight I reached new heights. I skipped a stone, 7-8 skips, over the still waters of Lake Michigan. 

Now I can skip two, sometimes three times, it isn't that I have never skipped a stone before. I just happened to skip a good one this time. 

Photo Credit: Sarah Huizenga

I have spent the past three days perfecting the art of stone skipping. Searching the sand for the right stone: smooth, not to big, or to small. One that I can get a good grip on, allowing for a good spin when released from my hand. Tonight I stumbled upon the perfect stone. 

The water was still, like glass. The sun was beginning to dip behind the treeline. Creating the perfect setting for the perfect skip. And it was the perfect skip. Days of practice finally paid off. No one was there to watch me or snap a picture. Just me and the water. Priceless. 

I have always been a stone collector. Picking up one after the other. Finding a hint of beauty even in the dullest of stones. I let the water wash over the stone to let its true identity shine. 

I was that little girl on the beach picking up stones until my tiny hands could hold no more. I would bring each one home with me, not wanting to leave any behind. 

With my love for stones one would think I should have gone into the field of geology. But the thing is I don't care about how the stone formed, what glacier smoothed it, or what kind of it is. I like stones for their beauty, their color, their pattern. To me stones are art, not science. They are little pieces of art that litter the beach; God's gift of beauty to the shoreline. A gift I don't feel the need to examine or study, but rather, to enjoy.