A Snapshot.

David has a far from empty garage without a single car in it, and nights when I sit working on my computer, he often disappears to his land of hobbies. David collects projects like stray cats. Three of the six bikes that hang from the ceiling of the garage were "rescued" and "nursed" back to health. Among the bikes are tools of every shape and size, bits of wood he's scavenged, and an assortment of other random treasures that one day he might make into something. 

Since we've lived here, many interesting creations have emerged from the man-cave: a clock made of bike parts, a bedside table, and tonight, a refurbished guitar. It was a guitar he found in a closet in his parents' house, and it was missing most of the front pieces, all the strings, and it was scratched to hell. But after an hour of piddling, he came tromping back in the house grinning from ear to ear, declaring he'd drilled holes into it until it was playable. "You've just got to hear this wonderful, trashy sound," he said as strummed, marching around the room.

Now, he sits in the other room, tuning, picking, and writing melodies that fit the personality of this new guitar. We don't need a new guitar, and the guitar is far from new, but I can't let go of that image. It's such a wonderful snapshot of David - sweaty, covered in dust, grinning and coaxing sweet nothings out of a no longer broken guitar. He is like that. He can dream up beauty. Make something out of nothing.

One of his closest friends likes to tease me when I start writing like this, always saying, " I bet that means something doesn't it, Miss Writer." So, yeah, I think in analogies - cars are freedom - leaves are change - etc. etc. In a way, I'm making something out of nothing too, but here it goes:

As we live our lives in turmoil, in transition, in loss, in uncertainty, I take comfort in that grinning man who saw the broken guitar not for what it was, but for the instrument it could be. What a picture. Even in my chaos and brokenness, I am not a wrecked instrument. I won't beat the analogy to death here, but the man that walked in my door tonight strumming a guitar reminded me a whole lot of another Creator... Oh boy, now Creedence Clearwater Revival is filling the house, and David will probably kill me for writing this post haha.

It's a little more than an instagram, but it's a snapsnot of my thoughts and the Elmer house tonight.

Our Life: A Tale of Two Cities

Once upon a time, I finally decided to graduate.

Fact: I have been in school since age 2, meaning that 23 years of my life have been spent in a classroom.  And in all of this schooling, I have been blessed not to have to work any kind of real world job outside of my school or University while studying. I have taught classes, worked in offices, but never had a "real" job, and that's all about to change. This is a story about very real jobs.

In case you missed the background story, David is in his fourth year of a PhD program in Kinesiology, and I am in my third year of a English Master's program, both headed towards graduation. And both headed towards the job market (dun-dun-dun).  As many other graduates have, we felt the pull of the "big, black hole of not knowing" looming before us, and we were constantly asking ourselves, "Where do we go next? What do we do? And how do we do it together?" As we talked about what we would do this past fall, we decided that David would begin applying for jobs to be a professor first, and I would wait to apply for jobs until we heard where he was headed, but then something interesting happened.

I had been very invested in a project at Auburn, and the project was hiring a faculty member. I was encouraged to apply with the notion that it would be "good practice." The job was a faculty position, one I never thought I would be competitive for, but from the very beginning, it was a job would have been honored to have. I made it through the first round of interviews and was on to the second. Suddenly, I realized I was really applying for this job. David was still furiously applying every where and his process was much slower and much more frustrating than what I was experiencing at Auburn. Still, he encouraged me to go through second round interviews especially since this was the only place I was applying.

Interviews ensued and then we waited. Really we were waiting to hear from colleges David had applied to... I honestly didn't think I would get this job. And then I did. When I answered the phone,  I was so shocked I could hardly speak. I couldn't figure out whether I was happy or sad. This was wonderful, but it wasn't the plan. Unlike me, David was cheering and hugging me, so proud. This man - brilliant - talented - worn out from human research and hearing silence, at that moment, on the job front - was gleeful. And I, on the other hand, could only think was, "What does this mean?" 

After much prayer, council, consideration and of course, tears, David encouraged me to take the job. Then, right before I had to make the decision, suddenly he received his first job nibbles. I panicked. What would we do if David was offered a job too? Should I just forget this opportunity? And why did having an opportunity feel so similar to the giant black hole?  Still, David couldn't imagine asking me to turn down a job that I would love and that would change my career for only the possibility of a job. So, following his lead, I signed all the papers...  Only a few weeks later David was offer a job at as a professor at Berry College.

Now this is where the story gets interesting.

{David off to interview}

He had been so happy for me. He had been so strong and encouraging. I had to rejoice with him even though it meant major changes in our lives. I knew this was a possibility. We had talked these scenarios in circles until we were reciting the same conversations over and over. And this is where we are today: one foot in Rome, GA and one foot in Auburn, AL starting in August.

So, this is the other context for coming back to the blog - To process this new stage of life. To document is exciting/hard/interesting/
challenging/crazy/chaotic adventure we are about to embark upon. Two new jobs, two new cities, and two people who truly believe they are one (cheesy but whatever). We will be living in both Auburn and Rome, traveling back and forth, seeing each other 4 out of 7 days. To those of you (especially the families of flight attendants, academics, construction workers, those traveling in ministry, doctors, etc.) who have encouraged us that we can do this and have endured similar situations, I thank you. And to those of you for whom this is news, pray for us. 

And there's one more little secret. I'm writing partially to confess my insecurities, to admit that I'm nervous about not appearing to be the "perfect happy couple." It's hard to explain this situation at a baby shower or a Saturday night wedding. Our jobs have become deep, complicated, personal conversations. But if I'm even more honest with myself, aren't most situations deep, complicated and utterly personal? Feeling the need to seem perfect is not a new struggle for me. And I wonder if I am really alone in feeling the need to have a short version of my life story to tell at weekend parties. Isn't your life a little bit more complicated than where you work or what you're up to these days? 

So, once upon a time, there was a tale of two cities... It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I guess we'll see. Welcome to a very different phase of "Elmering" and thanks for reading.

--

Image from: http://pinterest.com/pin/100345897916958117/

Back in the Game

Lately, I've been wondering whether I should begin blogging again, but there has been one thought that often kept me from writing, "What's the point?" I began to ask myself, "Why exactly did I blog? Is this a narcissistic exercise in let me tell you about me? And who exactly am I writing to?" Considering the many blogs out there, I realized I do not belong among the experts, the advice-givers or the internet excavators, so again I had to ask myself, "What is this space exactly?" And as I pondered this, these were the words that led me back to the blinking cursor:

"We write to taste life twice, in moment and in retrospection." (Anais Nin)

To taste life twice - that's what blogging has been for me over the years. I recently came back to this blog after receiving a very odd email.  I was notified that my even older blog had received a comment from a London advertising agency asking permission to use a photo from my wedding. I clicked on the blog to see which photo they were inquiring about, but I soon found myself rereading my experiences leading up to getting married. The entire experience was like flipping through an old yearbook, laughing at bad haircuts and remembering old crushes. Okay, so it wasn’t exactly the same, but it was fascinating to watch myself grow through a blog. As a matter of fact, I ended up jumping to an even older and uglier blog from my time in Spain.

“We tell ourselves stories in order to live… We live entirely, especially if we are writers, by the imposition of a narrative line upon our disparate images, by the ‘ideas’ with which we have learned to freeze the shifting phantasmagoria which is our actual experience.” (Joan Didion)

After finishing Into Thin Air (quite a story), I haven’t been able to get this quote out of my mind. As the quote describes, stories help us make sense of our lives; help us connect with one another (see The Truth About Stories). But are they stories if they are never told? So, I’ve decided that when I have time, I will go back to telling our story. And the audience will be – well – whoever wants to walk along side us. So, here is a promise of more entries, but with a cautionary note: I am not a designer or artist, a poet or prodigy; I am no expert at all. I am simply a humble collector of moments, and you've stumbled upon my keepsake drawer.

And there may have been one more reason I decided to start blogging again, but I'll have to save that story for next time...

NEED YOUR HELP!

If you know me, you know I love to read and write. But what you may not know is that my romance with reading and writing is not academic-based. Although I have officially spent 6 years in school studying reading and writing, my love for books began when I was very young.

But it was not so much the thinking or the written words that I was in love with. I was in love with meeting new people (characters), traveling without ever leaving a room and seeing the world in ways I never had before. I was in love with the way The Giver showed me everything wasn't black and white, the way Matilda talked back to authority (like I was afraid to do), and the way Harry Potter helped me understand love and sacrifice.

But what if you had never read a book or had the opportunity to? Would your life be different? Someone once told me (probably quoting someone famous), "You are the same person you will be in five years except for 3 things: the people you meet, the places you go and the books you read." I know this has been so very true in my own life, but what about you? Well, these kids you're about to meet can hardly get their little hands on a book much less have opportunities to travel and meet people they've never met before. So, think about how you could help change lives with the click of a button:

If you are interested in getting books in the hand of these kids, there is a wish list online through amazon: WISH LIST,  put five books in your cart (5 books sponsors 1 kid), copy and paste in the shipping address below and click buy! They will be under my friend, Megan Forrester's name, who will be working on this project over her spring break. Then, go fill out this quick form so that MS 223 can keep up with the amount that's been donated. 

The written word changes lives. Don't you want to be a part of that?

MS 223
Mr. Ohl - Shoebox Library
360 E 145th Street
Bronx, NY 10454

*For more information, email me @ laura.barron.elmer@gmail.com