And many times, more often than not, God simply says “no.” If you’re not a Christian, you might experience this as the universe or life itself pushing back. Either way, the answer is often the same:

‘No’.

No explanation. No immediate resolution. No clarity or alternative offered.

We hate that word. When we hear it, we realize we’re not as grown up as we thought. We’re still the children who once threw fits when told we couldn’t have what we wanted. That small word makes our eyes well up, our rage boil, our hearts deflate, and our minds spin lies. It can turn our entire world upside down.

let me tell you a story

Recently, I went to a women’s surf stability class on the beach, where a few women from the local surf community came to move together, breathe together, and surf together.

While chatting, I met a woman (we will call her Ruth) who recently moved to the very sought after historical community of Fittie - right on the beach. A surfer’s paradise.

I mentioned that my husband and I had tried to get a place there a few months earlier, but were unsuccessful. We were so excited about the possibility. The house had a full wet room for our wetsuits, two bathrooms, a beautiful kitchen, a living room, and three bedrooms. And it was surprisingly affordable. We had already started dreaming up our new little Scottish seaside life.

Ruth’s face fell. Immediately, she said, “Oh God, I hope that I didn’t end up in the place you guys were hoping for…”
Spoiler! That is exactly what happened. She was the one who got that lease. She immediatly began profusely apologizing, and trying to assuage the jealousy that she perceived I had been experiencing. I had to stop her mid-sentence to assure her that while we were initially bummed, it ended up not being the best move for us.

But then, something so beautiful and unexpected happened in my ongoing conversation with Ruth.

Ruth gracioulsy let me in on a bit of her life over the last year, and as she did so, it became painfully clear why Jake and I had no business landing that house.

• She is a newly single mom of 3 children, from ages ranging 7-15.

• For the last year, she and her children have been living with friends after needing immediate separation from their father. They had no place of their own. I don’t know the full story but I got the sense it was serious.

• This house was the ONLY one she looked at, not even ready to move yet, and banking on not being approved. She couldn’t believe the miracle when she got it.

• She is a Christian and her children go to my Church’s youth ministry.

And wow did I smile so big when the realization of what God had done hit me like a truck. I looked at her and said:

“Ruth, God said no to me so he could say YES to you and your kids. I am so grateful He did that.”

My husband and I did not need that house. We are 2, they are 4. They had nowhere to live on their own, we did. Now each kid has their own room, as well as she. They live on the beach, in a beautiful little historical house and village. Such an amazing and healing place for them. It is a cheap price for the location, quality, and size. Jake and I just wanted it because it would be nicer and better than what we already had, but we did not need it in the way that Ruth and her kids did.

It blew my mind that something we were bummed about turned out to be a massive blessing for someone I would later commune with. I could have never met her. I could have gone on wondering why we didn’t get that house, even though we had long forgotten our disappointment. But God cared enough to show me why for the sole purpose of understanding that most of the ‘no’s’ we get in life are truly not for us, even if they are good things. It’s either protection, delayed fulfillment with a better option, or to bless someone else like in this case. I am so grateful that he said no to us so that he could take care of Ruth and her kids. But in His infinite kindness, he still allowed me an answer.

when you’re told ‘no’

Let’s be real, though - you will not always get an answer. This was a rarity to be given the full picture after the fact. But, I don’t think a lack of clarity means that we cannot adopt the idea that the ‘no’s’ we get in life may hold something deeper than disappointment, devastation, or annoyance. As a non-Christian or Christian alike, the ‘no's’ we experience often turn into ‘yes’ - or at least a “thank goodness I didn’t get that”- down the line. This is a universal experience. So universal that I am sure that you could rack your brain right now and find an example of when this happened to you in 30 seconds.

It has made me think - what ‘no’ am I holding hostage right now? Where I am turning it over and over in my mind, trying to will it into a ‘yes’? If I am being honest, there are a few. Truthfully, I should treat it as an opportunity to discover the ‘yes’—or whatever better option this ‘no’ is opening up. Keeping our confusion and disappointment chained away in the corners of our hearts does nothing but trap us in a negative and limited state of mind. Which, in turn, creates a feeling of lacking. This can be mentally dangerous.

how to reconcile your ‘no’s’

Taking each ‘no’ in stride is easier said than done. And there are some ‘no’s’ that are crushing. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. But, this principle stil holds true, even with those that crush us into little pieces.

Next time you get a ‘no’, when you really wanted a ‘yes’, try this:

• Shift your mindset. Think about how a no for you may bless another person, who truly needed it more. This could be a physical thing, like the house, or something less tangible. Maybe a no to you moving to another city means you can bless or help someone in the city you are still in.

• If you practice a religion; pray. Ask God to bring you clarity or a new perspective. Ask him to reveal where this ‘no’ might be protecting you, or propelling you to an even better yes.

• Meditate. Do a practice of gratitude to reground yourself into feeling grateful for what you already have.

• Re-strategize. So this time it was a no. What action steps do you need to take to make it a yes next time, if any?

Someone once told me that what God has for you will not miss you. What is meant for you cannot pass you by. This is something I live by, and something I refuse to let anyone else dismantle (although they have tried).

Getting a ‘no’ sucks, but it does not have to stay that way.

xoxo,

Abby

But that is not the way the world works, and it is not my right to gatekeep wonderful places that I get to go, or tell people how they can or cannot travel. Nor will a tiny little article written by yours truly read by approximately 100 people tip the scales of Slovenian tourism. After all - I traveled there, so I cannot very well pretend that I am not part of travel industry consumerism. And if you are reading this, you probably are someone who has already heard about how rad this little Balkan-adjacent country is.

So, I will write about it. But I will do so the way I have been writing about everywhere else I am blessed to visit while spending these next 4 (or more?) years on the European continent - encouraging you to travel as ethically and authentically, and as locally-focused as possible.

I am not going to lie,there is not much de-influencing that needs to happen here

Slovenia, and particularly Lake Bled, are actually all they are cracked up to be. This country is stunning. It boasts one of the cleanest city in Europe, has gorgeous rolling hills that grow into the Julian Alps on the Northwestern boarder, and lakes a color of blue that you simply will not believe. It even has a Baltic coastline, with a small stretch of 70km of beaches. But this felt like a different kind of European travel. Slow, loose, and unhurried. Our schedules were fluid and felt lassiez-fare because Ljubljana and Bled are not places that are overwhelming in the amount of “attractions” you need to rush to like other bustling cities such as Barcelona, Lisbon, or Paris. And this is exactly Slovenia’s strength. It is simply a beautiful country that gives you permission to explore and just be, at a pace that is entirely of your own making. And we could NOT get enough of it.

Still though, there were some things that we found didn’t need to be on our itinerary (however loose it was), and things we definitely would not have missed.

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Chicken Joe is the comedic relief character in the popular Sony animated film, “Surf’s Up”. He is from Sheboygan, Wisconsin (hilariously close to Jake’s hometown) and is a Great Lakes surfer there. Although he normally surfs the Great Lakes (yes this is a real thing), he gets invited to a prestigious big wave surf competition on a Hawaii-esque tropical island - Peng’u - with the main character, Cody Maverick, a young penguin from Antarctica.

Now you may be thinking - this is a 20 year old children’s film. I am a 30 year old adult. What the hell am I on about? But as I rewatched it just the other week, I could not help but be struck by Chicken Joe’s response to tragedy or peril - and find him hilarious.

Chicken Joe did not give a rip about what people thought of him

CJ is positioned as the ultimate laid back, aloof, boneheaded surfer dude in this film, so most of the reasoning that he was unbothered by what people thought about him rested on the idea that he was too dumb (or too high) to notice. But as a full blown adult watching this movie, this struck me differently.

What if CJ was smart enough to notice, but just truly didn’t care? In one of his first lines in the film, he tells Cody that he is from the Great Lakes, and that he was the only one in his town who surfed. He gives a shrug of his shoulders and says “A lot of people thought I was crazy, but I'm used to that”. Fully accepting his differences, fully accepting that his passions made him seem “crazy”, and fully doing them anyway. Cody agreed with him, and they bonded over their shared insanity. The rest of his town didn’t end up in a prestigious competition, but he did. He followed what he loved and his value set, guiding him to what he knew was worth pursuing.

he was there for the people, not the glory

Within the first day of being on Peng’u, Cody basically goes missing after a massive wipeout lands him in a strange healer man’s home in the middle of the jungle. There are 3 days until the big contest - Cody’s dream to win. Chicken Joe sets out on a journey into the jungle to find Cody, which evidently takes him 3 days. He met the kid that day essentially. He has no desire to train, to practice, to make sure he wins. He seems to have no awareness that the very reason he was brought to the island was to compete in and try to win this competition. He just sets out to look for his friend, who he felt was more important than some meaningless competition. He valued connection over tangible success.

he reshapes negative circumstances positively (almost to his death)

While he is out looking for Cody, he gets abducted by native penguins from the island. They try to roast him for their dinner on a large spit, and in a boiling cauldron. Chicken Joe instead thinks that they think he is royalty, and are essentially treating him to a spa day and meal. He has a fantastic time. He calls them friends. While he is meant to be the idiot here for comic relief, and almost dies becuase of it, something about this response rings true for us in the real world.

Now, we are not meant to spin everything positively. Not everything is meant to be positive, but in most of our negative, inconvenient, or angering life circumstances, we can shift our patterns.

Chicken Joe seems allergic to negative thoughts. I don’t think he has one negative line in the entire movie. Personally, I’d take a bit of that particualr allergy myself. He is entirely radical, groovy, and chill. Not all of life, of course, is radical, groovy, and chill, but when we make a conscious effort to take hold of our negative thinking patterns, spirals, and thoughts, we can make a huge impact on how we move through life, how genuinely joyful we are, and how we view the world. Our internal realities will then begin to be reflected outwardly, creating more opportunity for joy, connection, and positive things to happen to us.

he wins the entire competition by accident, and doesn’t even realize it

Spoiler if you’ve never seen this movie, but Chicken Joe ends up winning the whole contest. Not Cody, or the main villain, but Chicken Joe. The best part? He doesn’t even realize it. This was of course deliberate because it is humorous, but I also think it was deliberate in the message it sends.

Cody and the main villain spent 100% of their energy on working out how to win this contest. The main villain was obsessed with fame, his trophies, and his prowess. Cody was obsessed with proving himself, and realizing a dream. They both trained and hustled day and night. Neither of them won. Chicken Joe was chronically present, unbothered, and there for the experience, connection, and love of the sport, rather than the fame. During the final surf, he surfed no differently than he does on a regular day - having the time of his life. When it is announced that he won, he is genuinely shocked.

I often struggle with this notion. The notion that the process of learning or achieving something can be more fulfilling than the achievement itself. The process mindset vs. the goal mindset is a really hard shift for me to make. In surfing or skating, I want to be the best I can possibly be, so when I fail (often), I am angry, down on myself, etc. At work, I want to be the most competent and successful I can be. When I fail, I am defensive. In life, the most thoughtful, the most connected, the most helpful, the funniest, etc. When I fail, I overthink and become anxious. But when we obsess over an end goal, we often lose sight of what we can gain from the present experience and process of getting there. There is so much fruit to be had in the process of achieving something you’ve been working towards, whether physically, emotionally, or spiritually. Not to mention, when you operate on a process mindset, you are much less stressed, worried, and bothered. You can actually enjoy the ride.

lessons I’m taking forward from a fictional chicken

1. People’s opinions should not shape your behavior, your passions, hobbies, or vision of yourself. Your close circle of people should be able to speak into your life, hold you accountable, and keep you on track, but otherwise, negative opinions hold no space in who you are.

2. Connection is more important than material desires. Your friends and family will keep you stable throughout this life, more than money, fame, or success will. Treat your relationships like the highest value thing you have.

3. Do what you love for the love of what you do. Deliberately enjoy the process, and the achievement at the end. Be a student of the process. You will enjoy your passions so much more when you intentionally create this mindset.

4. Take captive your negative thought patterns. Create intentionality surrounding the thoughts that you let win and have power over your life.

planning on CJ vibes for the rest of forever

As for me, I am planning to take the essence of Chicken Joe with me forward into my real, everyday life, as completely silly as that sounds. He is meant to be the soup-for-brains character, but I think he had more wisdom than all of them combined. Maybe that is why he ended up on top.

What in your life this week can you apply these principles to? Are there things you are viewing negatively that you can be more intentional about shifting? Are there connections you can rekindle, or purposefully nurture? Is there a process you need to find some beauty or wisdom in?

I guarantee you’ll have more than one answer come to mind.

Go forth in the name of Chicken Joe!!

And if you want to get a real feel for that I’m talking about, you can watch Surf’s Up on Youtube for free, or this video of solely CJ scenes. Either way, it’s a classic.

Until next week!

Let me first start with this: American culture is not the sole perpetrator of body dysmorphic content, impossibly high (and fake) beauty standards, and the mental health issues that come from these things. American culture is not the devil, and this is not an anti-America essay. We do see this in many other parts of the western world - much of it in Europe. But, this type of content is surely one of America’s main exports. Think Hollywood & film, the music industry, the fitness & wellness influencer boom. All of this exported all over the world to global consumers, and if you happen to live in America, it’s an everyday infiltration.

And boy was I in it. I was a proper Southern Californian fitness & nutrition girlie back home. Mostly, because you need to be, as the food system in America is slowly killing us. But, also, because I do like it. I wanted the toned muscles, the flat stomach, the perfect skin. These things are not bad to want, but the idea that you can perfectly achieve them is fabricated for the majority of the general population. So much goes into looking like the Gigi Hadids of the world, but namely, it’s…

Good old-fashioned genetics. And good, old-fashioned money. And hormones, and a whole slew of things. Working hard and being disciplined can get you FAR, yes, but genetics and money for spening in wellness, health, and cosmetics gets you farther. This is the part the industry conveniently forgets to mention.

When we first moved here, I knew that my fitness & macro-counting obsession would have to fall to the wayside, at least for a little bit. I knew we would be stressed with a massive transition, and it would take time to build routines again. I wanted to try the local foods of places we traveled, and just feel present. About 4 months in, I had deemed that trial period over. It was time to tighten up, dammit! I started saying things out loud like:

“I need to lose a couple pounds”

“I’m ready to get serious and disciplined again.”

“I need to get back to my gym routine”

We are now nearing month 9, and, I have to say, I am still saying those things seemingly for nothing but dramatic effect; without much gusto.

I am still extremely active; lifting, surfing, running, walking, playing beach volleyball. I am eating relatively well 80% of the time, and buying locally sourced products almost exclusively. But I have also not been restricting myself, or counting my every macro and calorie. I am eating the croissants, the homemade Scottish pies, and the famous pastries of some country I am visiting for the weekend. And not for lack of caring. I think I just… care less?

And if you can even believe it, I have somehow not lost or gained a single pound since moving here, whilst doing a fraction of the crazy regimen I was on before, with an iota of the precision. Seriously, a huge chunk of my life at home was dedicated to being as toned, lean, and strong as possible. I spent 5 minutes after each meal logging every macronutrient that entered my mouth, and completely avoided things like bread, sweets, and anything deemed contradictory to the sleek, 6-packed body I was after. I spent long minutes looking in the mirror pointing out every part of my body to myself that I felt needed work.

Just to reiterate: wanting these things, and doing these things are not wrong for the average person. And I still want those things. Being healthy is important. Discipline is one of the most important skills you can teach yourself, and reaching fitness goals by doing hard work can be immeasurably rewarding. But, I think it is also okay to need those things less sometimes. Specifically right now, in this season of my life. I feel healthy. I feel fit and strong. Aesthetically speaking, I look almost identical. And I am not losing as much as I thought I would by easing up on the reins a little.

Partially though, I think there is a fundamental shift in the cultural environment I find myself in when it comes to body image, beauty, and fitness. This has led to a fundamental shift within myself.

in Europe, people are more focused on simply living

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Adjective; “beautiful or delightful in a way that seems removed from everyday life.”

Some call that feeling magic. Some call it divine creation, or coincidence, or euphoria. To me, whatever you call it - it’s all magical. Sometimes you come across a place, a person, or a period of time that is just absolutely magic. You can’t explain the way it makes you feel. So you just sit there with your jaw on the floor wondering how the hell any of this is real.

I think this is one of my favorite things that we get to experience in our little human lives. This experience of inexplicable magic. When there are places that hum with it to the brim; so much so that you can barely stand it.

Most of Europe has always felt this way to me, but when I first stepped foot into the true Scottish Highlands, it was like my soul did a little leap. I was on fire! Every blade of grass, every mountain peak, and crisp, fresh air flooding my lungs was buzzing with little magic particles. I swear if you knelt down and touched the ground, you could feel it vibrate. An invitation to just be in that place as long as possible. I turned to my friend and said, “Dude, can you believe this is on planet Earth?”.

When I find places like this, it’s like a little secret between me and the planet. Like no one knows about how special this place is but the two of us. Of course, many know, but it brings this divine feeling of closeness to creation that is hard to imagine anyone else in with you. Everything is right with the world here. Everything is as it should be. It’s half untouched, rugged, and wild, yet serene and gentle all the same. Funnily enough, I am certain that is exactly how God designed most of creation - as a way to bring us closer to Him. He created magic.

Then I think, ‘like recognizes like’. If I am feeling and seeing and recognizing magic out there in the world, I must have some in me too. It is a coming back to ourselves, finding these places. And it never, never gets old.

While we are here, people will probably never stop asking us: “Why did you move here, of all places? Why wouldn’t you stay comfortably at home - in sunny California?” And I can’t get my brain around that. Scotland is - definitionally - magical. The experience is magical. There are ups and downs and all-arounds and it’s not perfect or contained or poised, but magic rarely is. It is also rarely forever.

The almost-offended shock in their questions points to an age-old experience of hating where you come from - the mundane, the familiar, the known. We all have it. We all become jaded to experiences we have had 100 times, or places we see on a daily basis. But I wonder how far we can push that notion away. How strongly we can reject it, with our fists up ready to fight it off.

I wonder if people looked for more magic around and within themselves, if they might feel, act, and think differently. Be more open to big, bold moves. More open to small wonders and beauties. More open to what life should really be about - or what life truly has to offer them. More open to understanding that there is MORE.

We knew it as kids, but somehow we lose it along the way. I think Scotland and Europe has gifted me with a re-dedication to regaining it, and finding it everywhere I can. When we don’t stop, sit still, and really look - we miss it.

We don’t have long here, team. Go forth and experience the magic of what God (or the universe, or whoever it is that you believe in) has given us - daily, relentlessly, often, and unapologetically.

And let me know what you find, okay?

xoxo, Abby

hurry hurry panic panic - then stand in line!!

Lisbon felt a lot more hurried and panicked to me than your average European city. It felt more akin to New York City or LA (in business) than Europe. Likely, social media has exploded it, and (because it is amazing) people have simply caught onto its brilliance. But, that makes for a much more hectic, crowded feel in Lisbon compared to the otherwise laid-back culture of Portugal as a whole.

Lines for attratcions, or popular cafes or bakeries, spanned blocks. People were hurried to timed slots for tours and tickets, and the streets were constantly packed.

OF COURSE - this does not mean don’t go to Lisbon. In fact - GO TO LISBON. But, be prepared for a more hectic, highly trafficked city.

Many of the “must-see” tourist attractions we also found were not all that and a bag of chips. Even our walking tour guide told us that most of them were scams, and gave us free ways to get the same views or experiences that you’d otherwise pay for.

Never fear, becuase I ran so ya’ll could walk. ;)
Here is what we found was worth the hype in Lisbon, and what was a tourist-targeting trap.

Lisbon sites: what to skip

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Seems like a lot of things to hate when I write it out like that, but it’s true!!

Until I didn’t see the sun for over 40 days. Scotland had the gloomiest, darkest winter in over 20 years on record when we first moved there.

Then I was longing for the sun, begging for it, even praying for it! Isn’t it funny how that happens? The minute we don’t have something all the time, that we either didn’t notice or thought we didn’t like, we suddenly only want that exact thing. It becomes a luxury.

As the sun has been making more frequent appearances since winter slipped into spring, I have been feeling like I simply can’t miss out on enjoying it. I leave housework and errands undone just to be outside while I can. I find something simple to do out in the sun, even when there’s no reason to. I have never thought sunshine and blue skies to be so beautiful than during these last months.

On one of the first long, sunny days we had, I ran into a friend who mentioned that he went to one of the large parks here in Aberdeen and spent 4 hours exploring, walking, and just being in the sun. And I remember thinking, “wow - what a lovely way to spend a day”. Had someone told me that in San Diego, none of that would have sounded remotely appealing to me.

I’ve noticed my thoughts and observational patterns changing. I notice beauty in much smaller things. The flowers,the greenery, the architecture. Like, really innocuous things that I think I’d never even look at at home. And it’s all just because the sun has come out.

It has caused me to slowly notice things I normally wouldn’t. Which in turn, has changed my thoughts and lowered my joy threshold - meaning I find joy a lot easier. So much simple joy just in a sunny day.

My Californian friends wouldn’t recognize me.

I think I decided I was a sun-hater because having it over 300 days a year, I took it well for granted. I never conceived that people lived in places where the sun is a luxury. Just like people live in places where the cold is a luxury, where rain or heat or wind is a luxury. Too much of a good thing is still too much.

Perspective is king. When we can change our perspective to one of curiosity, exploration, and openness, we become more available to simple joy. We become more open to noticing beauty and positive outcomes. The sun still causes me sunburns and sweat and uncomfortablility, but now I’m much more aware of the positive things it gives me too.

So, where can you shift your perspective today? It doesn’t have to be about the weather, but anything that feels mundane, repetitive, annoying, etc. This isn’t going to fix your life, but I’ve found that is has changed my response to a lot of the world around me. And that I am much happier than those who constantly complain about Scotland’s weather.

I’m still a heat-hater. Always will be. But I can confidently say that my relationship with the sun has been mended, and I am a reformed sun-hater!!

What kind of “hate” in your life can you reform? I’d be interested to hear your answers. :)

xoxo

Abby

Being a Katy Perry California Girl through and through - I am not used to slow. While the Hollywood version of the “Cali way of life” may look laid back and chill, I have had a very hard time finding a “chill” way of life there without having to heavily manufacture it within myself.

Ok, but, before you all start to come at me - I love California. I love my home. I likely will never want to settle anywhere else. HOWEVER. It is not a slow pace of life anymore. It is no longer the 70s and 80s, where people really only cared about noseriding, dreadlocks, and (maybe), their drugs. Where people could comfortably afford to live lifestyles that didn’t earn them well over 6 figures a year. And it’s your typical American rat race, just doused in excess doses of digital image and presence, influencers, and trendiness. It’s not inherently bad, it’s just differnt now. And it’s not slow.

There are a whopping 5 million people in all of Scotland. If that sounds like a lot, there are 3.3 million within the LA city limits alone. Therefore, life does move slower here. There is simply not enough people for it to move at breakneck speed. There is space to breathe and roam and listen and move slow.

And we. freakin. love. it.

slowness allows space for things to enter your consciousness

It has allowed us to create space for so much to come into our lives: spontaneity, creativity, perspective, relationships, reflection, exploration, adventure, ideas, epiphanies, and boredom. We do many things not because they are productive or necessary, but because we get to and want to. We have unique experiences that we would not have otherwise because we had no urgent agenda, but are allowed the space to explore.

It is not without its downsides, but I have found my soul resting in the permission to move slower here. The sense of urgency is markedly lower. People will sit at a meal for 3 hours. Or take a walk just as long. Pop into the pub for a pint with a pal at 1pm just because you walked past it. At home, you couldn’t catch me doing any of those things. 3 hours?! There was always something more fun, pressing, productive, urgent, big, or exciting to do. I had schedules and plans and things that needed doing.

But now I am having cups of tea at 2pm with my husband. I am taking walks in the park just because I can. I am sitting at a meal however long feels necessary. I am leaving household chores until tomorrow because the sun is out, and it is too gorgeous to let her be out alone.

it changes the way you show up

Truly, it has made me a more interesting person. I feel more balanced and less stressed. My creativity has peaked in new and exciting ways; more than ever. My openness to new experiences and things or people to find me has increased. I feel more lucky. Things feel less immediate. Probably because they are.

Maybe part of my inability to move slow at home was on me (likely), but we often become a product of our environments. What / who we are around, and the values we live under as a society do shape us - for better or worse. We have the power to change that, yes, but the effort it takes to do so will vary based on the atmosphere we find ourselves in. So, really, I am just enjoying how little effort that takes me here.

make slow moments this week

So this week, I bet my little life that you can find a couple hours in your week to intentionally move slower. It can be anything you want. Really - anything!! Here are some ideas:

• have a cup of coffee on your front porch in the morning

• read a book for an hour

• go on a walk - phone free, or with a partner or friend

• have a picnic in the park

• do something creative - knit, paint, draw, play music

• simply lay in the grass or on the beach

• climb and sit in a tree (a personal favorite pasttime of mine)

• pick wildflowers

• pop into the next cafe you see and just sit with a cuppa

• meditate

The opportunities for slowing down are endless, and within reach, even when life feels like there is no room to breathe. When you become intentional with slowness, it begins to feel unmissable. An essential part of your emotional and physical wellbeing will be linked to slowing down. And things will come your way that you never would have expected, just because you took the time to simply notice. I promise.

So, go and find your cuppa this week - and stick to it! You may just never go back.

I turned and said this to Jake after I polished off a bottle of the best balsamic vinegar we have ever had. Admittedly, it was actually from an olive oil mill in Queen’s Creek, Arizona,(Queen Creek Olive Mill) but the balsamic they sell is imported straight from Italy. We brought it back to Scotland with us, and surprise, surprise, ripped through it in 3 months. I said to Jake, “Man, how much do you think it would be to have your parents ship us some more of this?”

He replied without even looking up from his food; “Italy is way closer.”

My brain took a second to compute what he had said so flippantly, and factually.

ITALY IS WAY CLOSER.

I actually could not believe that that was the reality I was living in now. One I had dreamed of, cried over, longed for, reached for - thought actually impossible - for well over a decade. After all that time, all that pursuit, I could finally say, “well, Italy is way closer”. And since then I have been thinking about this over and over. How did I get to here? A place I always knew was tucked deep (and wide) into my heart, but truthfully, never thought I would arrive at.

Everyone said I couldn’t do it. Or, at the least,they thought I was crazy for wanting to do it. With the exception of my parents (of course), and a few like-minded generational peers, everyone thought it was a crazy whim. They weren’t wrong, really. To leave an amazing life - the best job I may ever have, a community we adore, a coastal southern California life - to chase a dream that may not pan out; it is crazy. But that did not make it wrong.

Crazy is the new cool, my friends, and sometimes your deepest desk-side daydreams are not meant to lie dormant, or stuck in a fantasy land. Sometimes they are so deep-rooted, so restless, that they have no choice but to be realized. But making them happen is a whole other story.

how I made my dream of Europe a reality

I don’t have a 5 step process of how I made this dream happen. I am not an expert, and what I did may not work the same way for you. But, I know that there is no way I could have realized any dream of mine without these things, let alone Europe. It wasn’t linear, and half the time I was even unsure that it could happen myself.

And while I also know that I cannot take all the credit - in truth it is God who has allowed us to come here, and God who gave me the dream in the first place - I do know that in a large way, I partnered with Him to make this happen for myself. And I also know that the dream that you can’t seem to shake can also become your reality one day.

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For a couple weeks now, the streets have been positively exploding with color. Wild, bright yellow daffodils can be found everywhere - in the city and outwith its limits. Trees and flowering bushes have sprouted blossoms in bright pinks, greens, and purples. The sun has been - almost - ever-present.

And me? I’ve been like a schoolkid. Giddy at the sight of such color and beauty. I cannot stand to not be outside to see it all. I find myself ripping off my sunglasses to get a less filtered look at the richness in color as I walk down the street, or (admittedly) being distracted at a traffic light simply by how lovely it all is. It makes me feel alive in a way I have yet to experience. It is like I am seeing Aberdeen in a completely different light - and so is everyone else. Life is buzzing everywhere after a dormant winter.

It has caused me to reflect on what seasons really mean - to the Earth, to our bodies, to us. Spring is a time of rebirth and splendor and invitation; where nature comes out of winter to say, “Look at me now!!! Look at everything I have to offer! Isn’t it wonderful?” And it is so, so wonderful.

Similarly, there are seasons in our lives and bodies that resemble this notion. Seasons after long winters of hardship or change where we get to say, “look world, here is all of me - reborn; new, reformed, and wonderful.” For nature, this transition is natural and easy. For us mere humans, I think we are often terrified of it. Baring ourselves to our neighbors, to strangers, or even to those we love is a daunting task. Reforming ourselves, changing, learning, growing, and then exploding with offering seems like scary, scary work. Most of us have hated the winters we have gone through so much that coming out of it in splendor seems like a fairytale. Some winters are longer than others. Some are darker and harder.

I think we can often forget, though, that after winter, there is Spring. No matter how bad it’s been. No matter if you haven’t seen the sun in over 40 days (like here), or if the winds of life have been howling for weeks, and the waves of your mind have eroded parts of your shore. There is always a Spring to come. A time where we get to live in splendor and extend invitation to others to do the same. Where we can safely look back at winter and find how much we have grown, blossomed, and changed - even if everything in us died there. We need those winters, for we can’t explode in color without them.

So this week I wonder, what is my offering to the world in this season? Have there been parts of me that have changed or grown through this last winter, that I am scared to let loose? Are there things that need to be let go of so that I can enter into a season of emotional or physical Spring? Where in my life is ready to explode with color?

And what about you?

If you are still in a season of wintering (or summering or autumn-ing) that doesn’t mean that temporal Spring can’t still nurture and inspire you with a little bit of its natural splendor. So let it. And eventually, you’ll be ready again to live in it full-time yourself. That is, until the next season.

Seasons are never forever, and they are never the end of the story - for better or for worse. And maybe that’s just the way God made it.

I can’t wait to see what your season of splendor may bring you.

love,

Abby

Happy Monday, friends! Let’s reflect.

taking things seriously

Often times in life, we hear “don’t take yourself / life too seriously”. It’s in easy-going Bob Marley lyrics, on some mantra meditation you found on Insight Timer, or on a tacky tee shirt in the junior girls section. And you know what, for a long time I really liked this little quip of a mantra. Like - life is short, there’s no need to take everything so seriously, dammit!

I have since come to realize that this is so WRONG.

In truth, why WOULDN’T we take things seriously? We need to take everything seriously - deathly, even. Life is SHORT. Life was GIVEN to us as a gift. We need to be serious about our joy, our intentions, our values. We need to be serious about our dreams and our fears and our failures. We need to be serious about knowing who we are, about believing in ourselves enough to know we can impact others.

Just this week I finally decided to take my writing seriously. Not necesarily to see if I can make money, or for others, but really for me. I have always been drawn to writing. For years I have been half-assedly writing a book of poetry, or a fiction novel, or some other creative writing pursuit with weak intentions of ever seeing these ideas through. Until now. Now, more than ever, I feel deeply serous about my writing. I am going to write book of poetry, and I am going to finish that idea I have for a novel. Even if it flops. And that EXCITES me.

And that’s why you’ll notice some changes to my sub. As a free subscriber, you’ll start getting these reflections or focus points weekly as I continue to- literally - live and learn abroad. If you want to connect deeper with me and the community I hope to build, consider becoming a paid subscriber for deeper reflections, de-influenced travel itineraries, how to live and travel more intentionally,an exclusive chat and more. I’d love to have you here!

what should you be taking more seriously?

What should you be taking more seriously this week? Is it your relationships? Your job? A hobby that you have always wanted to try? That risk you might want to take? That trip you have always wanted to go on? I know there is something, and I know it is worth being serious about - whatever the outcome. Because this is how we grow. This is how we live well.

This doesn’t mean be a fun-killer, or be rigid and unyielding, or be perfect. It doesn’t mean wasting time and effort on things that are not fruitful for you. It just means - you got 1 life. You should be serious about it, you know?

Taking things seriously in my life has led me to some of the best decisions, experiences, and joys I could never have imagined. And it will do the same for you.

So from now on, I think I’ll be taking my life very seriously, thank you very much!

Jake and I spent 8 days in beautiful Portugal (technically our “real” honeymoon) and we both came away charmed by the country’s laid back, community-driven, coastal culture, and vibrancy of life. The entire country bursts at the seams with color - from the food, the scenery, the culture, and their general way of living. But as much as I loved it, I left with a lingering, uneasy feeling. Not because of the place itself, but because of how it felt to experience it. Everywhere I went seemed already discovered, already documented, already decided for me. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how much of that feeling had been shaped long before I even arrived; by TikTok, by curated itineraries, by the quiet pressure to see what everyone else has already seen. And I didn’t quite recognize it until halfway through.

I lived in Spain for a short time in 2016, and during that time traveled to over 7 “must-see” countries. Between 2017-2020, I had made that over 12 - usually in summer; high season. I have never, ever experienced what we experienced in Portugal.

the illusion of “must-see” travel

Everything is a must-see. Didn’t you know that? If you don’t absolutely pack your schedule to the brim, weeks in advance - you will miss out on all the must-see things on offer, and therefore your vacation will be a waste. Tik tok has turned travel into a checklist. How can I get the most curated photos for my Instagram? How can I set my day up to see every ‘viral’ attraction I need to document?

The problem with this is that everyone goes to the same places, at the same times. Here is where you get lines taking hours when you already have tickets to something, sunset spots so overcrowded you can’t even see the view, 20 -something’s with full faces of makeup and curated outfits doing full-blown photoshoots at some historic castle or hilltop viewpoint (thus ruining your own photo op), and ticketed entries to things that used to be free. Jake and I booked in April because it was meant to still be “low-season” - less people and lower prices. If that was low season, I do not want to even imagine high season. It was truly shocking, and creates a pressurized, optimized travel mindset rather than one of exploration, wandering, and awe. Furthermore, it causes a decrease in gratitude for what you have been able to do and see. The irony is, you can’t even see the damn “must see” that you came to see in the first place; for all the people!

I found it hard, though, to not slip into this mindset myself, curating days and trying to hit the biggest spots with our time, instead of just enjoying and exploring. I found it particularly difficult in Lisbon - a city with so much on offer for everyone. And, mostly,in Sintra - a small mountain-top town known for its many castles and palaces; the playground of the old Portuguese Royal Family (truly a magical place). Taking a day trip to Sintra is a whole, weeks-early planning ordeal - one that we barely got to do because we planned only two days in advance (little bit of user error there on my part). Because we didn’t think to plan so early, we barely got to see 3 of the 6 main attractions we were “supposed” to, and still spent over 8 hours on our feet, running from place to place, with (literally) thousands of people doing the same thing. So much so, that the tour buses designed to ease traffic and planning for tourists cannot even operate correctly. We were SO EXHAUSTED when we got back to Lisbon that we could barely go to dinner - and I still, irrationally, felt a little bummed that we missed out on some things. Don’t get me wrong - seeing these things in Sintra are absolutely worth seeing. They were amazing, fairytale-like experiences, but it is not relaxing nor without extreme effort (see my blog on “De-Influencing Your Trip to Sintra”,here). It feels exhausting sharing experience with about 5 million people there at the same time trying to do the same thing. And maybe that is selfishness, or just the way things are now, but that doesn’t mean it’s enjoyable - or right.

the extinction of organic discovery

It seems a thing of the past to stumble upon “hidden gems” in the place youre visiting. No more is it sought after to get lost and find something amazing that wasn’t on your radar. Pre-approved locations, restaurants, nights out, and attractions ONLY.

Look - it is amazing to have so much information about how to travel a place and what to do at your fingertips - it really is. It makes things miles easier than ever before, which can be important in a foreign country. But, copying itineraries to the letter makes it feel like you haven’t really done any of the discovering. It loses its sense of awe and surprise - after all, you have already seen about 25 curated pictures of where you are going, and a detailed explanation of what to do and expect. While, again, I have done this myself - doesn’t this sound SO BORING? Be curious and creative and excited and wander into things that interest you! You don’t need to follow Ms. Influencer’s trip to have an amazing time.

I actually found my blood boiling every time we would arrive at some scenic spot or attraction and all I could see were people doing full-on photoshoots with curated poses, clothing changes, and angles. Maybe that is on me, and I should just let them enjoy traveling the way they’d like to, but I feel it ruins the organic experience for so many others (including their own).

the same exact experiences

Virality concentrates people into the exact same places. Having the exact same experience that they saw on socials. Want to watch the sunset somewhere nice? Well, expect 200 other people to be at any given spot at the same time. Want to see a castle? Well, better book weeks, if not months, in advance (country dependent).

Places feel less special because they are overwhelmed with people, with lines, and with infrastructure to receive the amount of people. The atmosphere can feel stressful, crowded, and difficult. Not to mention, when we all have the exact same experience in the exact same place, does it retain its uniqueness? Social media is funnelling people to the same 3-5 places, rather than allowing us to spread out naturally based on our interests. This creates the illusion that there is higher amounts of travelers, when really It is mainly a funnelling issue.

It seems people are traveling to document now, not for themselves and their own enrichment. They are spending time waiting in line to take the perfect photo, rather than just experiencing and getting whatever photos they get. They are curating experiences for how they will look online, rather than capturing the reality, or simply not documenting at all. I’m included in this, too.

local impact

The saddest thing about all of this isn’t actually about us tourists at all, but the locals. In Portugal, we learned that despite high-tourism, it has one of the poorest economies in Europe and 40% of the population lives on a minimum wage. When you have excessive amounts of property being bought up by foreigners and the wealthy to use as vacation rentals, the property value soars, and locals can no longer afford to live in their own cities.

Neighborhoods are turned into content backdrops and tourist attractions. Locals just trying to go about their daily lives are caught in mass crowds of tourists invading their cities. In Barcelona and in Lisbon, they have banned new airbnb rentals and put rent caps on properties. In Barcelona specifically,they have begun hating tourism - shouting obsceneties at tourists, refusing to serve them, etc. And we can’t even blame them.

Of course, everyone should have the chance to travel - but these are people’s homes. And right now we are like an invasive species - diluting culture to aesthetics and photoshoots, all running to the same places, and overwhelming the local economies and property markets. But, on the flip side, I also don’t have answers to any of this. I still want to travel. But I want to do it ethically. I still want others to travel, but it needs to be more balanced. There needs to be a return to traveling for self, not for platform.

a turning point

The latter half of our trip was in the Southwest of Portugal, the Algarve, and was simply focused on surfing, relaxing, and being on the coast. And this is exaclty what we did. This is where I felt a huge shift in the pressure I was feeling in Lisbon. There was about 80% less people in Lagos / the southwestern coast, but it was still lively. Mildly busy, not overwhelming and suffocating. You could still walk into a restaurant that you happened to pass that looked good, step inside, and be guaranteed a spot. We felt fine sitting at a meal for 2-3 hours, unrushed (to be fair, Jake never feels rushed). I found we were able to explore more earnestly, experience more earnestly, and simply relax. On our last day, we went on a 3 hour beach walk - beacuse why not - and found a stunning, basically deserted and untouched beach. We went to Mass on Easter. We surfed, drank wine, ate good food, and just drove the coast.

Maybe it’s because the places down south are just less populated, and less city-like in general. The major attraction is just that, rather than big castles or promenades. Maybe I am just becoming more crotchety when it comes to crowded-ass cities. Most of me just thinks we need to change our thinking and acting about social media and travel.

releasing pressure

To be honest, before moving to Europe, I NEVER felt this pressure whilst traveling abroad. I don’t know why I have been feeling it now. Perhaps that’s a part of me that I need to dive deeper into. And I plan to - because Europe (and travel in general) is meant to be ENJOYED. It is meant to inspire, instill awe, change your perspective (and your waistline), and educate you. It is meant to create wonder, awe, fun, and gratitude - not curation, optimization, pressure, and the perfect picture.

This is not a plea for anyone to travel less. I will still travel, and so should you. But, I think it’s deeply worth thinking about how we engage with these incredible places that we get to visit.

I’m encouraging myself to rely less on socials and virality when I travel. To create our own itineraries based on our values and interests. To support local businesses who maybe didn’t make it on the trendy, influencer-approved “must see” list. To wander, get lost, and consciously slough the pressure off my shoulders to see what everyone else deems “the best”. Maybe those things are the best, and likely they are worth seeing, but I am more inclined to do so now on my own terms. I hope you can do the same.

It is 100% worth going - but beware, it is not a relaxing, or easygoing day trip. But, it can still be enjoyable if you go in with the right approach.

There are a million blogs out there about the “perfect day trip to Sintra”. I read all of them - I tried to emulate all of them. And, the reality was, all of them were FAR too ambitious for the average traveler, left 0 margin for error (transport, weather, etc), and don’t really actually give you a description based in reality. Many of them are working with GetYourGuide or Viator, which means they are writing to sell you on a guided tour (which isnt a bad idea in this case). I am writing from true experience. Let’s go to Sintra!

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Death has been all around me recently. Maybe that is a part of getting older. Although, I really can’t compute how I am older than 12 years old at this very minute, when my parents were still below the age of 45 and I had no idea what the hell was going on. I still have no idea what the hell is going on. I probably won’t ever know what the actual hell is going on.

Everyday it seems like I get a new death notification. The death of a friend, of a family member, of a dear friend’s sister or mother. The death of a stranger, a democracy, a peace between countries. All of this coming during the season of Lent, where we are meant to die to ourselves more and more to prepare the way for Jesus’ death and ultimate sacrifice to save us from our sins. It has been sad, and devastating in a lot of ways.

losing my voice

This is gong to feel like an abrupt subject change, but stick with me. About 4 years ago, I sustained a vocal cord hemhorrage that quickly (due to the negligence of the infamous Kaiser Permanente) turned into severe inflammation, muscle tension, vocal strain, and scarring. For 4 years, I have been grasping, training, begging, pleading, and PAYING for answers and diagnoses and treatments. Recently, I was finally told that the scarring on my vocal cords would likely be permanent, and the function I have now is unlikely to improve.

If you know me, you know this is damning. incomprehensible. excruciating. death.

Since I was born, basically, I have been a singer. For pleasure, for excellence, professionally, and for worship. I am a singer. I will never not be a singer. I will always have the beautiful, rare, God-given ability to sing. My calling will be to use that gift to worship Jesus, and lead others in worshipping Him too. This was CERTAIN. This was indisputable. This was something I could never lose.

Since I was born, basically, I have also been chronically extroverted, loud, boisterous. This was a part of who I was, sometimes to my own detriment. Quiet or reserved was never in my vocabulary. I was a whooper, a hollerer, a cackler, a yapper. This I thought, could never be taken from me either.

What a fool I was to think so.

(You can hear how my voice used to sound here).

sitting

It is just recently, after my 4-year-long desperation to find my voice again, that I have begun to really sit with the reality that this just may be it. This may be my life. I may never be able to sing notes I used to, with the power that I used to, or without extreme fatigue that comes on quickly. I may never truly perform again. I may never lead worship again. I may never be able to speak over a loud environment, whoop and cheer at my child’s sporting events, loudly laugh with my girlfriends. These are things that I just simply cannot do anymore, at least today. There are so many things that I never used to think about that I can’t do now without pain or paranoia or difficulty. Maybe this is my lot, losing my voice at the age of 25.

The weight of this has been immense. Our voices are so wrapped up in our identities, our emotions, our egos, our places in the world. I have a lot of extreme fear and paranoia about furhter injury and loss. I have a lot of grief and sadness. I am missing connections because I physically can’t make the sounds come out of my throat. I truly feel like a massive part of me has died, like I am not the same person. It sounds dramatic, but is something that I am not sure many people around me can quite understand.

control, or lack therof

Lately, though, I have reached a point where I understand that nothing I do can control this. This isn’t in my hands. It is not for me to make sense of. While this doesn’t lessen the blow, it releases the burden of responsibilty on me to fix it. A good friend of mine recently wrote an article (you should read it) about how what we say becomes our life. About how the way we use our words, or control them, can change the course of our whole psychology. It completely flipped my relationship with the loss I am experiencing on its head.

Henley Worthen

let the weak say 'i am strong'

The biggest lesson I learned in 2025 was to shut my mouth…

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3 months ago · 6 likes · 2 comments · Henley Worthen

Maybe I should stop saying that “I can’t” do things. Maybe I should be grateful that I ever could, or believe that I will be able to again. Maybe I should make peace with the fact that I may never know, and may never experience problemless vocal cords ever again. Maybe it doesn’t have to feel like it has ruined my life.

This doesn’t mean that I am magically fine now. When it comes to this topic, I am deeply not fine. I am not sure I will ever be fine. But, I am making a concerted effort to turn this bus around and see if I can create a little bit of that magic that Hen is talking about.

this brings us back to death

In Job 1:21, it says “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord”.

I don’t believe God injured me on purpose, but I do believe He has the authority to decide if I ever fully heal. Because even if this part of me has died on Earth, death in the face of the Lord is nothing. It is insignificant, becuase He is life. It is a completely surmountable issue. He raises the dead, He heals, and He performs miracles beyond our wildest dreams. Maybe I will never get my miracle, I don’t really know. I am no Job, but I am not sure there is really any use in lamenting it for the rest of my life if I don’t

. Although lamenting is my favorite sport. ;)

As for the death of loved ones, friend’s loved ones, and of so many other things - I am beginning to see that death maybe isn’t so finite. Whether or not you believe in Heaven, it’s easy to believe in the memory of our loved ones who have passed being everywhere we go. A whiff of cologne that he used to wear on a crowded street. Her favorite flower, or her favorite song in that random department store. The diary your grandmother left behind, with countless tales of a life well lived. We have all experienced this. We are nothing and everything at the same time. Death separates us physically, but it cannot separate our spirits or our hearts.

I am not pretending this is easy

Don’t get me wrong. This isn’t easy. I don’t want to experience any of this. No one does. I know that what I am experiencing now does not compare to the pain that those of you who have lost someone dear are feeling. This doesn’t mean don’t grieve, or don’t be sad, or don’t be vocal about those things. In fact, I do think that is crucial to do.

I do not have the answers and I am not an expert on the matter. As prevoiusly stated, I actually have no idea what in the actual hell is going on.

And maybe that is all any of us really need to admit.

Thanks for the pep talk, Hen xx

But, alas, my personality has lent itself to this line of thinking since I was small. I have always had a drive, a dream, a motivation to “become” something professionally big. A psychologist, a federal agent, a veterinarian, some sort of licensed professional - doing something that most people can’t do. Being unemployed was probably the scariest thing that I could think of. Unemployed? You mean basically usesless? You mean without purpose? Please.

Of course - there are many people that choose to be unemployed to raise a family, and while that never appealed to me as a long-term way of life, I understood it. But being unemployed when you WANT to be employed? Never.

Until it happened to me.

I was 23, bright eyed and working hard at a job I was severly underqualified for, but smashing nontheless. That job was my identity. I loved it and I was proud of it. I lost that job with a month left on my year-long probation, moslty due to toxic work environments, some women who for some unbeknownst reason, hated other women (especially young, competent ones), and emotional burnout. I was terrified, devastated, and shocked. I quickly learned that creating your identity around your career was NOT the way to go. Instead, I learned that my identity needed to be rooted in Jesus - something far bigger and better than myself, or my measly job. But, my spiritual revelations can be left for another day.

I was unemployed for about 4 months, and while I had a lot of fun in some respects, I was HELLBENT on finding anohter job. Moslty because of course, living in San Diego unemployed as a single female in my early 20s wasn’t ideal, and I would be damned if I had to move back in with my parents. It was all I could do, to apply to as many jobs a day as possible. I finally did get a job with the Marine Corps again and worked in variations of it for the next 4 years. I can’t describe how fullfilling those years of my career have been so far, and really, it does get me excited to find jobs along the way of life that will continue that feeling and fulfillment.

But then I think about those 4 months I was unemployed. I was poorer, yes; feeling sorry for myself, yes; stressed, yes. But I also found so much of myself there in the space of those 4 months. I fell in love with skateboarding and through it, met many of my closest friends,one who even stood by my side at my wedding (shoutout Tony). I fell more in love with surfing, and devoted my time to it. I cherished friendships that I didn’t have the time for before. I strengthened my relationshp with the Lord, rebuilding my identity around who He says I am, and was able to get more involved in leading worship and serving at my church. I spent ample time with my dog, whose time was inevitably limited. When I look back, I actually find so much joy in my time unemployed.

Here I am now, 6 years after entering the workforce and building a career I was loving, unemployed by choice. Once again, I was so nervous to not have a job, money to save, a place to go, a thing to do, and a thing to tell people that I do. The plan was always to get a job as soon as Christmas was over (which, obviously, is now) - and I have been trying. I’ve had some interviews without success, and just a lack of jobs in my field available in the area. But really, I do eventually want a good job here (lol). But it has once again given me the opportunity to really refelct on the last 6 months of my life as an unemployed housewife.

1. I’m prioritizing things I absolutely LOVE with my time - my husband, the Lord, the surf, travel, and friends. The enrichment that comes from this can’t be attained from sitting in an office.

2. I’m learning what it feels like to let go of prideful titles, or labels that make me feel like I am something, when really I already am something without them. I’m not a “prevention specialist” or a “social worker” or anything at all. I’m just me.

3. I’m hearing from God a lot, about the direction and vision of my next endeavors - professional or not.

4. I’m learning that sometimes a 9-5 does not fit into my life circumstances, and there will be MANY more times where it may not (having babies, illnesses, unforseen life circumstances).

5. I’m truly finding out what I value personally and professionally, and learning more about how to keep those in alignment.

6. Im starting new hobbies, which is SO fun. Painting, writing, running (SHOCKING if you know me), etc. Finding new parts of myself that I truly did not know existed.

Now, I am blessed with mine & my husband’s financial situation to be able to be unemployed at this very moment. This is not everyones privilege. Unemployement often is a very stressful and scary situation for a lot of people. I also know that it won’t last forever. I don’t want it to last forever. But, in this time, while it lasts, and while God continues to bless me whilst keeping me unemployed, I plan to make unemployment the most badass time possible. Unemployed doesn’t have to be a dirty word!

When people ask what I do here, for the first time, I feel fine - and even stoked - to say “nothing, I’m just here for the ride.” And you know what their response is?

“Hell yeah dude. That’s a dream.” And for now, it is.

Please dont get me wrong. I love the USA. I love my country. But, becuase we love it, we can’t stand by and do nothing. This is not about politics, or left or right. I am not here to condemn those who voted one way or another, or to fight, or “take sides”. This is about loving people, serving, and humbling ourselves. In this, I’m speaking to myself as much as everyone else, but specifically my fellow Chrisitan brothers and sisters. I say all of this with love, and with an urge for you to stand up for those who can’t do so for themselves - much like our Lord does.

If you’d like to find more ways to support those affected by whats happening across the States right now, there will be links at the end of this post.

After a long 5 week trip home to the states to celebrate the holidays, my brother’s wedding, and seeing so many wonderful family and friends, I had so much to write about. About what moving to another country and coming home taught me; about what “home” is; about the hardship of being away from everyone you love. But instead, all I can think to write about is the feeling of coming home to a country that hates you, doesn’t care for you, and doesn’t respect you. How it feels to be heartbroken to leave the people you love in that country, but how freeing it is to get to your other “home” in a country that treats you equally EVEN THOUGH you’re a foreigner. An IMMIGRANT if you will. I can tell you its not a feeling I ever imagined I would feel, being a U.S. Citizen, "land of the free, home of the brave”. A descriptor that evidentially may not fit anymore.

The first leg of my trip home was in Florida, for my sister-in-law’s bachelorette party. We went to a music festival, and I remember being so confused about why I had to get frisked. Then, I remembered I was back in a country where firearms are aplenty, and any Joe Schmo off the street (or apparently, any law enforcement agent) could shoot me if he/she wanted with little to no repercussions. A couple weeks later, Renee Good was killed. Then, Minneapolis descended into uprising. Then, Trump threatened Greenland and the EU. 5 year olds are getting pulled of streets. National Guardsman are deployed in U.S. cities. All within a month. Now, Alex Pretti is killed. People (citizens) are afriad to go outside, to work, to school based on their ethnicity. Sound familiar?

In the UK, there are no guns. Even the police officers do not carry guns, unless they are special forces or on an imminent threat mission. Say what you want about LE not holding weapons, but there is a visceral lifting of anxiety to know that you can walk down the street, or be stopped by a cop, without the threat of lethal means. To know that due process will occur if you have done something warranting you being stopped. To know that if a cop, MI5 agent, or any other entity shot someone in the street that they would be prosecuted, or at least investigated fairly. To know that the Prime Minister, although highly unpopular,operates on an at least rational level. There are millions of immigrants in the UK, from Africa, the Middle East, Asia, Eastern & Western Europe, America etc. While many ethnic groups related to Islam do face anti-immigrant hate here, they aren’t afriad to go outside simply because they look ethnic. No one here asks you who you voted for within the first minutes of meeting you. No one here asks you if you’re legally here becuase you look latino or black or asian. No one here is dealthy afraid of their law enforcement officers. No one here has treated me any different for being a temporary, or permanent, immigrant.

This juxtaposition has left me perplexed, enraged, saddened, heartbroken and in disbelief. Do we need immigration laws? YES. Are there illegal people in our country committing crimes? YES. But SURELY. SURELY we do not want this. SURELY no one thought they voted for this. Right? I thought WE were supposed to be the example of freedom. WE were supposed to be the example of equality, due process, civil rights,and opportunity for all. WE were supposed to be the world power to emulate. Lord help us if any of the world ever emulates us now.

Aside from the obvious abhorrent events occurring right now in the United States, what is really beginning to bother me most is that I am seeing more of my non-Christian friends, organizations, companies, etc speak out, protest, donate, and serve than my fellow Christians. This tears my heart out. It is not about if you “don’t agree with the liberal left / republican right” its about speaking up and doing something when we see murder, persecution, oppression, torture, slander, and ANYTHING that Jesus does not stand for. I understand that being vocal in public these days is scary. It’s uncomfortable. People might unfollow you, or slander you, or tell you you’re an idiot (can confirm). But Jesus didnt call us to be comfortable. He called us to be like Him. Jesus called out the sinners throughout his ministry - the murderers, the liars, the money and power hungry, the gluttons, the gossipers,the thieves, the hypocrites, etc. He brought everyting into the light so that no more life could be given to it by the enemy. So, what are we doing, letting everything sit in the dark? Watching people (I dont care who they are or what theyve done, and nor did Jesus), be murdered in the streets,ripped out of their homes and forced into detention centers, having their kids taken from them - and doing and saying NOTHING. This includes me.

Jesus tells us that what we do in this life matters. And what we don’t do in this life matters. Matthew 25:45 says, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.” I can’t imagine how much Jesus’ heart is grieving watching those of us who call Him our savior do and say nothing.

I know that many of you, Christian or not, are taking heart and standing with the lowly and the oppressed. That you are fighting for, donating, serving, and loving those around you. Prasie God for all of you! I intend to join imminently.

Together, I know we can let the power of love and light win. And even if EVERYTHING burns, remember that with Jesus on our side we truly cannot lose in eternity.

If you are feeling as hopeless and enraged as I am, here are a few ways to help when you don’t know where to start.

• If you’d like to specifically assist in Minnesota and don’t live there, this website details community aid funds, food delivery, law centers, immigrant support, and other organizations that you can financially support, or volunteer at if you are local.

  https://www.standwithminnesota.com/

• Write to or call your Senator / House Rep. The number is +12022243121 for the Capital Switchboard. I know this seems silly, but it is written and recorded evidence from their congregate about what is really happening in the U.S. You can find scripts and how-tos here:How to Call your Legislator
  Contacts: https://www.senate.gov/senators/senators-contact.htm

• Write a letter to the Editor (local MN Newspapers), or to any city newspaper about the issues you care about. Again, this sounds outdated and silly but it matters in a LOT of ways! Here is a how-to guide if you arent sure. Letter to editor how-to guide

• Send encouragement. On the standwithmn website, theres a section where you can send letters and words of encouragment to residents. A simple way to show support that might go a long way. https://www.standwithminnesota.com/send-a-love-note

• Write to ICE-supporting businesses to ask them to stop cooperating. This includes, but is not limited to:

  • Enterprise Rental Cars - providing most rental cars for ICE in Minneapolis

  • Hilton Hotels

  • Delta Airlines

  • Target in MN - allowing ICE to stage blockouts and stakeouts in their parking lot, effectively putting their employees and customers in harm’s way

• EDUCATE YOURESELF! I cannot stress this enough. The amount of misinformation being spat from our own governments mouth is insane. Look for independent, non partisan or non profit news sources. Here are a few reputable places to find TRUE information without paywalls:

  • MPR News

  • NPR

  Minnesota Specific:

  • Minnesota Reformer

  • Minn Post

  • Stand With Minnesota Testimonials

• Pray. The Lord is not surprised by any of this. Pray for the U.S., for MN, for people affected. Pray for your friends and families who look ethnic enough to potentially be stopped. Pray for the ICE agents and DHS agents. Pray for Trump (as difficult as that sounds) and the future of our country. Pray for softened hearts, healing, and grace.

When we moved to Scotland, I knew surfing here would be nothing like surfing the world-renowned, often perfect conditions and waves of Southern California or Hawaii. Rideable almost every day, good almost every day. I knew I would be entering into a much rawer side of the sport. A rougher, colder, more unpredictable sea, wearing neoprene thick enough to make me feel like my shoulder mobility is exactly 0. I had done a lot of research, and new I would likely have to become a completely different surfer than I am at home, riding a different style of boards (longboards) and waves - a style I traditionally have enjoyed less in the past.

I was nervous. Nervous that it would be too hard and too scary. Nervous that I would hate it, jealous of my friends riding perfect waves in San Diego. That I would hate the lack of consistent waves, and the faff of tugging on a 5mm wetsuit, gloves, boots, and a hood. That I would hate the cold. That I would lose a part of myself that has begun to feel irrevocably tied to my ability to surf. Desperate, even. In that desperation for connection to the sport, I found something beautiful. A completely new relationship to the ocean, to this sport, and to myself forged in that desperation to be in the sea.

Admittedly, my first few surfs in Aberdeen went terribly. It was raining, the wind was high (like, 25mph), the swell weak and poor, and the ocean unbelievably choppy. Aberdeen beach has wooden breakers that jut out into the sea from the seawall about every 20 feet, so safety and vigilance is of the utmost importance. I wasn’t used to having obstacles in my surf zone. The tide here sometimes swings 14 feet in a single day, compared to about 5 feet at home, making tide windows extremely crucial for the quality of the wave. Surf forecasting services rarely work here, and half the time, I would show up to the beach coaxed by a favorable Surfline forecast to be utterly dismayed by the poor showing of reality. I even had a scary brush with a breaker, where my leash had wrapped around the wooden post and for a few seconds, I truly thought I was going to die as the rip threatened to hold me under. My prognosis was that this was just my life now. Shitty surf at a shitty beach with no car to take me to the nice, beautiful breaks up north. I expected better. And if you know anything of the ocean, expecting anything of it is always a mistake.

But, I was not fully hopless just yet. When winter came, she changed everything. With the skies darkening much quicker than when we arrived, I started to plan entire days around the tides, especially when the surf was good (something only an unemployed person can do, I may add). I am often up in the dark, biking to the beach to catch first light when the tide is just right, chasing that perfect swell. The first winter day that the waves were forecasted to be incredible - all of Aberdeen was out (all 30 of us). I wasn’t convinced. I thought this would be another let down, another forecast gone wrong. As I pulled up to the beach, I swear my eyes widened 3x their normal size. I have never put on a wetsuit so fast in my life.

I surfed for almost 3 hours, in 50* water, in absolute bliss. Catching glassy, open-faced, peeling waves, one after the other. I couldn’t believe it! I felt like everything gelled - there was no wind, the sun was high, the waves not too strong, the vibe amazing. In Aberdeen, the wave energy is typically low, so the waves (if big enough) tend to be mellow - perfect to cruise, but not to rip on a shortboard. Originally, this bummed me out, but that day I found myself addicted to the calm flow of my board on the wave, feeling one with the ocean. Even when I’ve been able to ride shortboards here, the ride feels less frantic, less panicked than the hollow strength of Californian waves. I couldn’t get enough.

And since then, Ive had many more days like it. Still, there are many days I’ve come up empty, but they don’t feel so dire. I’m learning to take what Mother Nature (and God) are giving me, have no expectations, and be grateful. It doesn’t have to be a perfect session every time. It doesn’t even have to be good. But when it is, boy is that a gift. Is it still cold? Yes. Is it still less consistent, harder to pinpoint, and more rugged? Also yes. But everything I thought when I first arrived was turned on its head after that day.

I thought the tide swing would only serve to be a hinderance, but I am able to bask in the beauty of living a life where I get to plan around the tides. Plan around nature, what the ocean is giving on a day to day. Knowing that my time unemployed will be short lived, I almost can’t think of a cooler thing to do.

I thought the North would be too cold and too rough, but being out in the rain, the chop, the cold, and the wind - and seeing others there with you - only serves to deepen that bond and understanding with the ocean that all surfers ultimately seek.

I thought I would never get good days, and while they are less frequent than home, they are EPIC when they come.

I thought I would hate having to longboard more than I’d like, but I have found that the mellow style makes me feel more alive, more understood, and more intertwined with God’s creation.

I thought I would lose a lot of progress, but my surfing is improving rapidly with the addition of a new board style, new waves, and a new aptitude for manually reading surf charts.

I thought the amount of gear needed would be huge bummer. It kind of is, honestly, but you just get over it. The cold ends up being a minor player in the big scheme of things.

I thought surfing was just another one of my numerous hobbies, but I have found that it’s a life. A deep, enriching, scary, passionate life. A true love. And whether I am in the north, Hawaii, California, or anywhere else - no matter the conditions - I’ll always have it while God keeps me able. And THAT is all that matters.

…although, I would love a perfect little home break again eventually ;)

My whole life, I have desperately tried to avoid the middle ground. I have always (in my mind) preferred to have both of my feet firmly planted in one camp. The black or the white. The left or the right. The stereotype or the rebel. The clear path. But all my life, no matter how hard I try, my feet can never seem to agree. They’re pulled opposite directions, both as assured and confident as its counterpart.

One in security, and one in whimsy.

One in order, and one in chaos.

One in following the rules, and one in rebellion.

One in needing connection, and one in needing to fly.

One in playing it safe, and one in taking the risk.

One in staying put, and one in being on the move.

One in the white picket fence, and one in the nomad.

In my heart of hearts, I am a fiend for certainty, security, clarity, plans, and goals. But, I’m also a fiend for chaos, rebellion, adventure, experience, and change. It feels like my heart and soul’s desires are split right down the middle, with enough room for one of my feet in each space. This duality in my deepest nature has always been, and will always be, HARD. I have always felt that I am at constant war with myself, my thoughts, my yearnings, and my dreams. Big decisions can become hard, and feel final. Connections, friendships, and career moves can be lost, diminished, or broken. And either way I lean - I miss something of deep importance to me on the other side.

Maybe thats just life, though. Anything we say yes to means we say no to something else. Saying yes to the white picket fence, the house, the family right now would have meant saying no to Europe, the travel, the experience of a lifetime, the adventurous start to our marriage, and endless opportunity. Saying yes to those things alternatively means no to being close to family, our best friends, our jobs, our certainty, and times and events we won’t get back. Both sides sound equally amazing, and equally (and inconsolably) sad to me. The choice is impossible. I am in 2 minds.

Its hard to miss out on these things. Its hard to be at a distance to the people you love, or the places you love. Its hard to change your lifestyle, and uproot. Its hard to stay put and feel stagnant. Its all hard.

I recently saw a movie that was lightly based on the poem, “Song of Myself”, by Walt Whitman.

“The past and present wilt—I have fill’d them, emptied them.
And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.

Listener up there! what have you to confide to me?
Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening,
(Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.)

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the door-slab.

Who has done his day’s work? who will soonest be through with his supper?
Who wishes to walk with me?

Will you speak before I am gone? will you prove already too late?”

“I contain multitudes” hit me like a train.

I don’t think I have ever resonated with something more deeply.

I contain the chaos, the control, the whimsical, the anxious, the fearlessness, the fearfulness, the need for connection, and the need to run wild. The family-orientation, the nomad, the loyal friend, the distance friend, the frugal, the spendy, the safe, the risky. I contain all of these things and more. I’m not sure that many people really live with such deep dichotomy. And, if they do, well they damn well seem to have an easier time managing than I do. It feels impossible for me to unravel it, and figure it all out. To find just one camp to be in, and stay loyal to. But,with life, we change and we grow - and how can I want to stay in ONE camp all my life? There simply is no real right answer. A crazy way to live, most people think, (myself included).

But of all the things I’ve missed on either end, I’ve found a beautiful place to live in the duality of the middle ground. With my feet in two places, I’ve experienced things I never would have dreamed had my feet only been stuck in the black, or in the white. I have far less regrets that I think that I would otherwise. Far away Never Lands, friends for a lifetime, meaningful work, culture, a tight-knit family - experiences you can’t buy.

I love walking down the street hearing 7 different languages. I love quiet Christmases at home with family, and the comfort of familiar faces. I LOVE my friends - new, old, estranged, and close. I love to be in a new country and wonder what life might be like there if I happened to be born there. I love it all and I miss it all. All the time.

And as much as I say “I hate it, I hate it, I hate it” (many days, I do

); in reality, the richness it has brought to my life is priceless. I have to trust that God made no mistakes when giving me multitudes - that theres some REASON for my dual nature.

So, I guess, what a blessing; that I contain multitudes.

I contain multitudes. And so do you.

Sometimes thats how I feel. Like I have to pretend that everything is incredible when people ask how our “new life” is. Like after a literal DECADE of talking people’s ears off about how I wanted, needed, yearned, longed to move to Europe (and having them scoff at me), when it actually happened it damn well BETTER go perfectly. It damn well BETTER be the time of my life, my dream come true, OR ELSE I’ve proved everyone right. That this was crazy, stupid, silly. It feels embarrassing to then respond in any other way other than “its AMAZING!” when really its a little more like “its great but also a little terrible right now, lol”.

In our first 2 months in Scotland I:
- have been to the Scottish ER (called A&E here).
- almost taken Jake to the Scottish ER becuase he had a chest infection for 3 weeks straight (and we couldnt get into the doc yet).
- Was a victim of a hit and run and had to call the police and make a report.
- Damaged 2 rental cars to no fault of our own (the only 2 we have rented thus far, lol) and had to deal with insurance claims.

Not to mention, the sheer amount of grueling admin that comes with setting up a whole new life in a new place. New bank, new bills, new taxes, new leases, new house, new things to buy, new job (eventually), new school. New friendships to have to make and maintain, new churches, new people, new lifestyle. It is so much consistent effort. I haven’t had to put this much effort into just living in years. San Diego became so comfortable and so easy because we had been there so long. Shit has been hard here, man.

But its also been really good in a lot of ways. Its gorgeous here, its cheap, and the people are so kind. We have met some great people that we hope will become consistent, deep friends - the kind we were blessed with and are used to from back home. The travel is so fun, and truly the part of my dream I always wanted most. Being funemployed is surprisngly, well, fun! Marriage is really fun. Having a little house is really fun. Going to Spain or Germany or Portugal for the weekend is really fun.

But I dont want to lie and say its all perfect. It has been HARD. We feel a little homesick. The newness is wearing off and we are really deeply missing that community that we so took for granted at home.

Perfect is a made up word. Nothing on this side of Heaven is ever perfect. I both underestimated and overestimated how hard this move and settling was going to be, and thats ok. I think its easy to think that people even actually care about the decisions we are making for our lives (except our moms, shout out Bets & CC). Like people are just sitting around waiting to hear how our big Europe move went. Newsflash, Abby - they’re not. Theyve got their own lives and issues, and they arent paying attention to yours as closely as you think. And also, why do I need to justify anything to anyone? Decisions are just decisions that lead you to other decisions. No right or wrong, really. Good and bad, maybe, but always learning. And God has blessed us just the same, regardless of the decision to move to Scotland instead of say, Santa Cruz (like normal people).

So anyway, we are having a lot of fun, but this last month was kind of a s***show, and thats just the way the cookie crumbles.

love u all xoxo

I lost a friend this week.

In a lucky streak of almost 29 years, I have never had to deal with the death of someone so close to me, or at least someone who used to be so close to me. So when I heard that he had tragically passed in a motorcycle accident over the weekend, it didn’t feel like real life. It didn’t feel like real life that I couldn’t pick up the phone and hear his voice on the other side, even though I hadn’t done so in years. There was a point in time where he was my favorite person, and to know that he just didn’t exist anymore made my world make a little less sense. To know that I couldnt even attend a service if I wanted to for being so far away, feels hard.

Blake was electric. Electric in the sense that his silliness, humor, and spontaneous nature was contagious. People just loved him. He was the person I’d call when I wanted an adventure, when I had no one to do some weird activity with, or when I wanted a wild night out. He was the one I’d call when I DIDN’T want to be out, but just wanted good company. Really, he was just the one I’d call, period. He stayed with me when I got out of the hospital and had no one to care for me, waiting until my mom could fly in. He would almost get in fights if someone said something rude to me at the bar. He would show up at my door unannounced, ready for anything. He was fun, loyal, real, and dedicated to the life he chose as a scout sniper and Marine. I met him during a really rough time in my life, and he really was my best friend, and I his.

Blake and I had a falling out a couple of years ago, and while we did mend things to become friendly again, we never quite recovered the closeness we once had. I’ll never know why. Perhaps our frienship had a timeclock on it - only to be experienced for that specific season. Perhaps we just outgrew what our friendship embodied. Perhaps God just had different plans for our lives that didnt’t involve each other anymore. That friendship was a hard loss for me. I was heartbroken a long time, but there was comfort of knowing that down the road anything was possible. Nothing was left unsaid, so I felt confident that if he was meant to be in my life, he would be. So, to see him grow, be successful, and happy through a rectangular screen was enough. To chat to him a couple times a year on birthdays and milestones was ok, even though I longed to recover what we had. It was ok, and for the best, even.

But now it just feels…final. Our friendship will always stand not fully mended. The rift between us always there, now that he’s gone. It makes the grief taste more bitter than it ought, with an air of “can I even mourn him?” ; “do I have the right to mourn him?” After all, I am not even sure he would have called me a friend anymore. I am not even sure he would mourn me if the roles were reversed. It’s strange feeling such a deep sense of loss and devastation for someone that maybe wouldn’t have felt the same. To want to frame a picture of us, to remember his heart, when I might have been long forgotten in his world. To not be able to ask him how he felt, and to now never know.

We loved each other, and we hurt each other. We were inseperable, and then we were strangers. We were certain of our friendship, then certain of its ending.

He was special to me, and he still is.

And I think thats the ticket, right? I think all of these things can be true, and even further - they can all be ok. I think he can have been my best friend, and have also been a source of deep pain. He can have been someone who maybe wouldn’t mourn me, and I can be someone that puts our picture on a shelf. He can have been someone that didn’t consider me a friend anymore, and I can be someone that did. That thinks of him often. That cries for his heart. That laughs at a silly memory together. That misses him, even though I have only known the version of him that existed 2 years ago. That wishes that things could have been different. That wishes he was still alive to become the man he should have had the opportunity to become.

And so maybe everything that happened between us doesn’t really matter now. And maybe whatever he thought of me or our frienship was valid and ok, and also, doesn’t really matter now. And maybe, it almost doesn’t really matter how I feel at all. What matters is that my friend is dead, and he was electric.

Rest easy, B <3
Your legacy will live on, your service will not be forgotten, and your spirit will be deeply, deeply missed.