Life is so full of messiness, isn’t it?  Questions that don’t get answered, jeans that don’t fit, feelings that get hurt, words that get said, temptations galore, orneriness that rears its head–you know, you’ve been there, I’m sure.  [Okay, I’m hoping, because selfishly, I don’t want to be alone.]

With all I’ve been saying this week, here’s what I’m not saying.  I’m not saying I’m right.  I’m not saying I have everything figured out.  I’m not saying that I have all the answers.  Alas, it’s quite the opposite.

Sometimes I feel at odds with myself, with others, with God, because I cannot explain things like: where am I going?  what am I doing here?  how many times can my heart break?  why do I feel so inadequate?  why don’t I look fabulous?  why am I misunderstood?  am I making any difference at all?

I have a kindred spirit.  Sabrina Ward Harrison doesn’t know it, but that’s okay.  I highlighted her first book Spilling Open a couple of months back.  Now I’ve just read Brave on the Rocks, her second book.

Harrison is an artist who has published her very private thoughts, pictures, and collages, in journal form.  All her angst, sadness, happiness somehow finds a way in…and proceeds to break your heart, because, of course, you’ve been there.  Oh, have you been there.

The term “brave on the rocks” comes from a phrase her father taught her when she was a little girl.  They used to hike trails together, barefoot, and returning home each evening, they would come upon her grandfather’s newly laid gravel driveway.  She’d hold her hands up for a “special carry,” but instead, her father bent down to explain about barefoot travel.  “Paths are not always smooth and familiar like the Indian Trail or the good ones out on Pine Ridge.  Sometimes there are rocks on the trail and the only way to cross them is to be brave.”  So, each time thereafter, as they neared the driveway, Harrison would boldly say that she was going to be “brave on the rocks.”

Here are some pages from Brave on the Rocks that I love (I’ve translated below the pictures, if you cannot read them properly):

“People travel to
wonder at the height of
mountains, at the huge
waves of the sea,
at the Long course of rivers,
And they pass by
Themselves–
Without
Wondering.”

–St. Augustine

“I want to hear Jazz with my
eyes closed, and dig my toes
into the sand dancing.
I want to climb to the
Summit and Yell and sleep
under the stars.  I want
to Laugh my head off
and play marbles
and sleep in and eat
croissants in bed with
Butter and Marmalade
and spill coffee and wear
Lace and trip holding
your hand Because
I am Listening so closely.”

To be a real traveler you must be willing to give your-
self over to the moment and take yourself out of the cen-
ter of your universe.  You must believe totally in the lives
of the people and the places where you find yourself,
even if it causes you to lose faith in the life you left
behind.

You need to share with them, participate with them.
Sit at their tables, go to their streets.  Struggle with their
language.  Tell them stories of your life and hear the sto-
ries of theirs.  Watch how they love each other, how they
fight each other.  See what they value and what they fear.
Feel the spaces they keep in their lives.

Become part of the fabric of their everyday lives and
you will get a sense of what it means to live in their world.
Give yourself over to them–embrace them rather than
judge them–and you will find that the beauty in their
lives and their world will become part of yours.

Letters to My Son by Kent Nerburn

That is why we need to travel.  If we don’t offer our-
selves to the unknown, our senses dull.  Our world
becomes small and we lose our sense of wonder.  Our
eyes don’t lift to the horizon; our ears don’t hear the
sounds around us.  The edge is off our experience, and we
pass our days in a routine that is both comfortable and
limiting.  We wake up one day and find that we have lost
our dreams in order to protect our days.
Don’t let yourself become one of these people. The
fear of the unknown and the lure of the comfortable
will conspire to keep you from taking the chances the traveler
has to take.  But if you take them, you will never regret your
choice.

Letters to My Son Kent Nerburn

*    *    *

What apt words for this Friday morning.  No matter your adventure–in life or faith–these are good words to keep in mind.

Realize that life is messy.  It’s not always a feel-good, win-win, God-I-love-this type of situation.  Sometimes it downright sucks.

And that’s okay.  Stick with it.  Live honestly.  Live out who you are.

I’ll be there with you.

As a bonus–after all, it is Friday–I found this blog post by Simon Mawer to be a delightful addition to what I’ve been trying to say this week.  I think you’ll enjoy it!

As for us, we’re hoping for sun tomorrow morning, as we’ll be out on a lake in a pontoon boat!  Happy weekend, y’all!

[Post image: Detail of Brave on the Rocks by Sabrina Ward Harrison cover]