present

present (n.) - the period of time now occurring. 

The past 6.5 years I've been living in a transitional space. I'm not referring to the everyday "things are always changing" kind of transition. I'm talking transition as in, "Girl, you better plant shallow roots cause this train is leaving in 6 months," kind of transition. Processing through this has left me amazed at just how unstable my last few years have been. Moving to college. Making friends. Leaving friends to study abroad in Zambia. Making new friends abroad. Leaving Zambia and the precious relationships formed there. Transitioning back to the States. Losing loved ones and friends. Changing my major. Graduating college. Saying goodbye to friends-turned-family. Moving cities. Getting married. Beginning grad school. Moving into a new apartment. Meeting more new friends. Finishing grad school. Moving out of that apartment. Saying goodbye to those new friends. Moving into a house. Working 6 months. Looking to move to a new city to start a new thing. Finding that thing. Moving out of that house. Saying goodbye to more friends. Saying goodbye to family. Moving across the country. Starting a new job. Starting a new ministry. And here we are. 2018.

Every single thing has been short term and I have self-soothed by settling snugly into a transitional state of mind. All places, apartments, and friends are temporary. Nothing is reliable. Attachment leads to pain. "See you later" is a less emotional way to say "goodbye."

However, that dismal state of living I called "normal" is no longer the case. In other words, I've reached a point in time in which my "now" is, well, going to be my now for the foreseeable future. There is no big thing on the horizon to plan or prepare for. Day-to-day right now could very well look the same in a year. I haven't been able to say that in 6 and a half years.

Since moving to Seattle I've had boatloads of restlessness and anxiety with no where to put it. I've trained myself to put it into the "next thing" but what do you do when there is no concrete "next thing" on the calendar? Well, apparently you end up putting it into the now (i.e. my life the past 6 months). My current default is an endless loop of making lists and thinking ahead. "What's in our pantry for dinner?" "Is the laundry done?" "Shoot, I just ran out of mascara." "Got to grab some more creamer." "Milton's out of food." "Dan, we need to clean the bathroom before our friends come over tonight!" It's been a hectic pace of incomplete thoughts, wandering eyes, and a restless state of being that is never. ending.

I've seen friends establish a "word" for themselves at the new year. I've never done this before, but I absolutely swoon at the idea. Having something to come back to as a person who floats, wavers, and forgets is so intriguing. The simplicity of one word is beautiful to someone like me.

And in an effort to move (okay okay, force) a hesitant and hanging-on-by-a-thread Holly from a transitional state of being to a more rooted one, I've decided to choose a word: present. I want to silence the head noise and enter into my current reality. Instead of feeling constantly guilty for what I need to be doing, I want to allow myself to feel inexpressible thankfulness for where I am.

So friends, I've decided to stay where I am for a while. Nesting my heart to this new city and looking only at today when I glance at my calendar. Here's to a year of less guilt. Less attachment to my phone. Less multitasking. Less anxiety. Deeper breaths. More eye contact. Internal rhythm. Letting small things catch my eye. Embracing simple. Shedding expectation. Forgiving myself when I'm not present and allowing myself to move gently back to that word.  Decreasing my reliance on others for affirmation. And planting deep roots. Here's to a year of being present.

Here is one of mine and Daniel's go-tos whenever we are hosting a meal or needing a cozy something for dinner on a rainy day. Almost everyone has asked me for the recipe when we make it for our friends. I love it because it's simple, impressive, and YUMMY.

White Bean Chicken Chili

- 1 lb. boneless skinless chicken breasts (chopped)

- 1 medium onion, chopped

- 1.5 teaspoon garlic powder

- 2 cans (15.5 oz. each) great northern beans, rinsed and drained

- 1 can (14.5 oz.) chicken broth

- 2 cans (4 oz. each) chopped green chiles

- 1 teaspoon salt

- 1 teaspoon ground cumin

- 1 teaspoon dried oregano

- ½ teaspoon pepper

- ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper

- 1 cup sour cream

- ½ cup heavy whipping cream

1) In a large saucepan sauté the chicken, onion, and garlic powder in oil until chicken is no longer pink.

2) Add the beans (drained and rinsed), broth, chilis, and seasonings.

3) Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 30 minutes.

4) Remove from heat and stir in sour cream and whipping cream.