The little victories

A quirk in the life of Kelsey Freya: when I find a song that I love, it plays on repeat. You may be thinking, "Well, so what... a couple times a day maybe?" No. When I'm in my room, it's playing. My sister and Mary can both attest to this as they have been a victim of my habit for a very long time. Lately, these lyrics have been spinning through my ear buds: This time, I'll be sailing. No more bailing boats for me, I'll be out here on the sea, just my confidence and me. And I'll be awful sometimes-weakened to my knees, but I'll learn to get by on the little victories.

My lifestyle in Scotland, without a doubt, can come off as quite glamorous. I have my best friend next door, endless possibilities for hill-climbing and sheep-chasing shenanigans, and the North Sea only a few miles away. It wasn't until coming to Scotland that I've been able to take a removed glance at my life back home and have realized: shoot. There is life outside and after Hope College. At this point, I have changed my major on paper at least four times and at least 100 in my head. I have read Hope College's course catalog in its entirety, and have read way too many 'find your calling' books from Border's. I have soul-searched and prayed that I may feel drawn to a major, a concrete dream, a calling. I am currently an Elementary Science Education major and Psychology minor, and I'm only now realizing (the 2nd semester of my Junior year) that I have no intentions of working in a classroom. It makes me laugh that both my sister (a freshman) and I are having the same big questions, only she is encouraged to work with them and I am discretely discouraged from having them. But it is now, halfway across the globe, that I realize that God's plan for my life, for anyone's life, is so much more than a major declaration form.

If I make it to 100 years old maybe I'll finally have plan. Chances are though, I'll still have more questions than answers. Throughout these few weeks at Aberdeen, I've realized that I'm not called to answer to a sheet of paper, an advisor, or a cookie-cutter dream. I'm called to pour my heart into every morning, to listen and to love the people that walk across my path at the perfect times. And even when the fear of living my story weakens me to my knees, I'm called to focus my eyes on the simple beauty in life. The way I get lost only to find a perfect thinking place. The way inopportune class changes seem to work themselves out perfectly. The hopeful little origami bird I found sitting next to me on the bus. The little victories. The overlooked gifts. (They are everywhere.)

On a lighter note, there is a seagull outside my window that does the happy feet dance almost every morning. He looks around to see if anyone is watching (which I always am), and then boom shakalaka: he breaks it down. I highly doubt it will ever get old.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pvg7tf5xHrs

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head

I'd like to share with you a few things I've noticed:
1) Macaroni pies at Auld Toon Cafe on campus taste like heaven... in a pie.
2) Large, 200-person lectures means anonymity. Anonymity means no pressure. No pressure means way too much room for mind-wandering.
3) Penne pasta is a staple. So is tomato soup. (Don't worry Mom and Dad, we make other things... sometimes.)
4) Hot chocolate and Bailey's tastes very yum for dessert, and once in a while, makes us quite punchy.
5) The toilets here flush like nobody's business. AKA flush and run, or flush and don't run. Always pick the first.
6) My attempts at Scottish, Italian, and French accents all fade back to Borat.
7) Falling asleep to techno music and a pounding bass has become the official lullaby.
8) Naps in Mary's room are better than naps anywhere else.
9) Professors still say the darndest things: "George Washington was a dumbass," "The Americans never really had an Enlightenment," and "Heffalumps are delightful beasties, to be sure."
10) If you volunteer to give a presentation on Freud, be prepared to hear sex jokes.
12) Concerts in second story coffee shops are wonderful (especially The Boy That Trapped the Sun con a cellist).
13) Laundry is expensive; a small room can be transformed into a make-shift drying palace.
14) The day the snow melts is the day the gardening begins.
15) I used to decline sleepovers, birthday parties, and telephone calls left and right because I was the epitome of a home body. Somewhere along the line, I flew across the world. Same girl, same heart... just a bit older it seems.

"And everything that’s new has bravely surfaced teaching us to breathe. What was frozen through is newly purposed turning all things green. So it is with You and how You make me new with every season’s change. And so it will be as You are re-creating me--summer, autumn, winter, spring." - Every Season by Nichole Nordeman

Let's sit and stay for a while

We walked for a total of four hours through little towns stamped with blue and red doors, strolling on beeping crosswalks and cobblestone roads. We didn't really say a whole lot. Both Mary and I spent our long walk thinking, looking, wondering. When we finally found ourselves at the bottom of the long-anticipated path to the beach, I ran up the steps carved into the kelly green hillside. At the top, I saw the North Sea.

The world is big and I am small in comparison.

Though I do have elaborate daydreams, big thoughts (and even bigger questions), and a heart in wild pursuit of beautiful people, places, and ideas, I'm still oh so small. Not small enough to write off entirely, but small enough to go unnoticed with a cup of coffee and a journal. Scotland's green hills, majestic weather, and perfect bench placement makes it a great dreaming spot. (Ideal for an utterly confused but perfectly content 20 year old.)

Ever close your eyes
Ever stop and listen
Ever feel alive
What a day, what a day to take to a wild child.

(Shout out to Mom and Dad! I know you were waiting for one.)

Watch this to see the North Sea adventure! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDYFlkTtMGQ

There's a bird singing

Every day is a turning point.

Mary cut out an ad from Oprah magazine for me that says just that. It's pinned on my bulletin board along with quotes, pictures, verses, and other simple reminders that I want to hold close while I am here at Aberdeen. Every day has truly been a turning point for me. Every day I become comfortable with a part of my new situation, but every day I am immersed in another part of this life that challenges me. It's as if I always have one foot firmly rooted in my newly formed Scottish comfort zone and one foot plunging forward into a big and scary mud puddle full of campus directions, class tutorials, new faces, and intense courses. And every time I begin to feel settled in the once scary mud puddle, my other foot lunges into an even bigger one. This constant puddle-jumping, from comfortable to uncomfortable to comfortable, is my new way of life. Still, as long as I have my rain boots, I'm able to find peace with each step.

On top of transitioning, it has been our first week of class. In one class, Celtic Scotland, we discussed vikings (which, let's be honest, is legit.) I also went to Philosophy of Knowledge and the Mind. It digs deeply into how we can justify our beliefs and what it means to "know." It feels wonderful to actually be allowed and encouraged to have my head in the clouds.

Finally, while looking for classes, I've managed to create my own round-a-bout through campus, shuffling around with my map when no one is looking. During the time I've spent getting lost and backtracking my way around the university, I've happened upon some of the most beautiful moments and places. I'll leave you with my favorite two:

1) I walked behind King's College (a beautiful building) looking for the Philosophy Dept. and stumbled upon the University Field. The blue sky left room for the sun to literally light up the snow, while two people enjoyed it together. People-watching really is a constant reminder of how beautiful people are. I snapped a picture so that I'll never forget that.

2) I took a longer way back home through Seaton Park and found a river that runs through it. It was just the river, the trees, a bench, the snow, the sun, and me. (And thank goodness my camera!) I then found a steep woodsy hill and, grabbing from tree to tree, I found my way to the top. Just as beautiful as I had imagined. I wasn't so lost.

"Okay, so question. Are your high schools just like in Mean Girls? Because that's what everyone thinks. The plastics. Like, 'OMG'?"-friend from Scotland

Somewhere in the deep recesses of the soul, there is a bird singing. Slow down, listen to the call, and hail the advent of hope. -David Rankin

We live so high above the ground satellites surround us

I'm in Scotland. After three planes, one being an enormous beast, we arrived bleary-eyed, but oh so joyful in Aberdeen yesterday morning (or whatever time it is with this 5-hour time change). On my first plane, I got to hear one woman's life story. On my second plane (the seven hour one), I had a window seat and although I didn't sleep a wink, I saw the starry night sky resting on blankets of clouds below me. (No wonder God didn't give us wings, we'd never want to leave the sky!) On my third plane, I sat by another girl traveling to Aberdeen and we had fun leaning to look out the window over the poor sleeping man next to us. It's difficult to explain the feeling of stepping out of the plane and seeing Aberdeen for the first time. I am bound to fail at trying to describe my feelings, but my reaction can be expressed in two words: slaphappy and awestruck.

It's so surreal living here...such an out-of-body sort of thing. We hopped out of the taxi into a magical sunny snow globe and I swear it's one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Mary's building is a five second walk from mine, and right outside my quaint, homey second story window, a snow-covered tree makes it feel like home. I'm living in a flat with five other girls who all seem wonderful! (From Latvia, Romania, Germany, and the Czech Republic.) Mary and I have already concocted our first meal, taken our first walk through Seaton Park (heaven), had our first funny grocery store experience, registered for classes (Philosophy of Knowledge and Mind, History and Philosophy of Science, and Religion at Ground Zero), walked in circles feeling completely and wonderfully lost, first funny bus ride to city centre, met 1,000,000 new faces...and the best part of it all is that we get to do it together. Taking in this new life just wouldn't be the same if I couldn't run two steps to Mary's room to really think about it all, talking about this funny life.

For the first time, I feel completely free. It's everything beautiful and everything scary, everything exciting and everything terrifying. But at the end of the day, I'm still just me, a girl who (by the grace of God) is now sitting in a foreign country, living out of two suitcases, and learning how to adventure with her best friend, to live simply and fully. And the most reassuring comfort of all is to know that I'm never walking alone. (I've never been more sure of that in my entire life.)

We're only as separate as your little fingers

Yesterday, I waved goodbye to Hope College. The drizzly, dreary weather that the morning offered more than likely reflected my facial expression as I watched Hope College pass by through Mary's car window. The tears that welled up in my eyes as I left this beautiful place were not painful; my heart was full of love, and that love for my friends, my family, and this place seemed to stream down my face and across a funny half-smile, which can be best categorized as a "sigh, life is beautiful" smile. Although part of me longed to stay at Hope with the people I've grown to love, a part of me is eager to step onto new soil. On Thursday I will be on my way to a country I've only experienced in the travel section at Border's. In looking forward, though, I can't help but look back (feeling blessed in a way that I cannot put to words).

And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

Goodbye Hope College, see you soon.
Scotland, can't wait to finally meet you.

And the world spins madly on

A year and a half ago, I confidently said this: "I will never study abroad." Now, with 21 days left until I climb aboard a beastly plane, I realize how much experience changes us. Every person, every conversation, every class that I have encountered has prepared me for this adventure. I think about the months that lie ahead for me and the way that each day will move me, change me. I think about the beautiful people I have met and will meet. It's a funny and awkward place, this transition stage. Still, I know that I'm exactly where I am suppose to be: waiting in anticipation, accompanied by a heaping ton of unanswered questions.

Something I hope to keep in mind:
"I beg you... to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if the were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without ever noticing it, live your way into the answer."
-Rainer Maria Rilke