Magic

Let's talk about magic for a minute.  Not the Hogwarts magic (although definitely amazing).  I want to talk about the kind of magic that happens in the ordinary world around us.  The kind of magic that gives you goosebumps, the kind of magic that births dejavu, the kind of big magic that happens within us when everything comes together.

I'm a believer that magic comes to you when you need it most.  Like a breath of air when you're drowning.  On the road so far we've had a lot of highs and lows.  Much like the rolling hills that we travel down.  Times of pure magic.  Times of exhausted darkness.  We've seen more sunsets, sunrises, and stars than we have in years.  We've had more long talks and held gazes.  We've also snapped at each other and been on the edge of losing it more than we have in awhile.

We had set up camp after a particularly long day.  Lucy June had just not wanted to be in the truck.  She clung to my chest laughing and crying at the same time when I opened the door to try to put her in her car seat.  It's heart wrenching.  She cried off and on all day thanks to fatigue and four giant molars cutting their way into her mouth.  When we arrived at camp she was done. 

Sometimes distraction is our best friend.  So she and I embarked on a small hike.  We soaked in the sun, the new green of spring, and became flush with exertion.  But by the time we came back we were both done.  No one knows the fatigue of being on the road until you do it.  And we were all feeling its full weight that night.  By the time we had made it through a screaming dinner and put her to bed, Zach and I sat in a crushing silence.  Fatigue is also the bringer of doubt.  It whispers to you about your faults--your insecurities--your regrets. 

Out of the darkness glided a Luna moth.  Silent and gliding making large graceful loops into the lamp light.  It mesmerized us.  Brought us out of our own selfish thoughts to gaze at its translucent beauty.  It was magic.  The magic of childhood summers and teenage twilights.  That deep breath of fresh air.  Big magic in small ways. 

I feel Pretty

I feel pretty.  That's right, I, goofy, awkward, uncoordinated Runawayalice, feel pretty. Yesterday I went and got my haircut by AJ at California Concept, here in Knoxville.  I love her!  She does such a great job and is really fun and easy to talk to.  Anywho, she had some extra time so she curled my hair for me.  I don't do hair very well.  We're talking my glam look is maybe I will put it up in a ponytail.  But the curls were different and made me feel very pretty.  So I did a little research on why women should feel pretty, the results were interesting.So by research I mean I put that exact question into google, just to see what would come up.  I got hits on everything from "I don't feel pretty please help me," to "successful middle aged women," to "I don't feel pretty without make-up."  It was a little scary.   I felt like starting a support group.  "Now repeat after me.  My name is Runawayalice and I feel pretty.  It's okay for me to feel pretty." The truth is it's taken me awhile to become okay with feeling pretty and with my "girlishness."  Ever since I was little I've been a Tom-boy and trying to keep up with my brothers.  I fell down stairs trying to keep up with them because my legs weren't long enough yet.  After my brothers, I always had guy friends, and I wanted to keep up with them.  I mean, I had to run just as fast, or faster.  I had to be able to be tough, to not cry, to hike mountains, skydive, bungee jump, not scream when something was scary.  All those things.  And I love every one of them.  I think that's what took me so long to figure out, I don't have to be one or the other.  I can love shooting guns and having my hair curled too.

I spent most of my teens and college, being one of the guys, and trying to be a tough chic, and I succeeded.  That's part of who I am and I have a great group of guy friends.  But now as I'm getting into my mid twenties, I feel like I'm coming into my womanhood a bit.  That sounds dumb but it's true.  Really over the last year I realized how many amazing women I have in my life.  They've taught me that I can embrace both sides of me.  So here it is, what makes me feel pretty and why I feel pretty.

Hi, my name is Runawayalice.  I feel pretty.  I feel pretty when...

1. I'm wearing my chacos

2. My hair is curly for no reason at all.

3. I'm camping in the middle of nowhere.

4. I help people.

5. My husband whispers he loves me.

6. I see my mother.

7. I shoot a gun.

8. I'm in a bathing suit.

9. I'm at the beach.

10. My Dad hugs me.

11. I'm with my girlfriends.

12. I laugh.

13. I take photographs.

14. I hold a baby.

15. I'm hanging out with the boys.

16. I'm skydiving.

17. I'm alone.

18. I wear cowboy boots.

19. I make art.

20. There's no reason at all to feel pretty.

Why do I feel pretty? (This is the hard one to say because we've been taught not to say it.) Because I am pretty.  Because I enjoy my life.  Because there's so many reasons to feel pretty inside.

Feeling pretty comes from confidence, from finally getting to know who you are, and taking joy in life.  It really has nothing to do with mascara, hair, clothes or anything else.  It's feel pretty Friday.  Feel pretty, because you are.  Happy Friday.