Peeling Back the Crust & Beautiful Hidden Things

Posted on August 31, 2011 by Krista

The water in the ocean was colder today. I think that means summer is drawing to a close with Fall nipping at its heels. I’m leaving the Island in two days, so–that must be true.

Today was also the first day since the hurricane that the ocean looked like its normal self again. No crazy waves. No rip tide. No choppy surface. Just calm and inviting.

I noticed a couple things this weekend though, after the storm.

And really–how curious? providential? that a hurricane blew through here at the end of my stay. People say art mirrors life. And I say, life mirrors nature. At least mine does.

Anyway, I noticed a couple things.

The storm was a wicked storm–not as large as we’ve seen in past years, or quite as devastating–but she was a mean one, that Irene. Dark and brooding, and mean.

When I went to the beach the morning after, there was a two foot drop from the dunes where her waves had dug into the beach and dragged it out to sea. The erosion was so dramatic, it looked as though she had simply cut into it with a fork and eaten it for dinner.

Isn’t that the way it is though?

The storm comes, dark and brooding and mean, and peels back the outer crust, biting chunks out of us, leaving us exposed and scarred.

But. Then the storm passes, the skies clear up, the ocean regains its composure, and the Earth begins replenishing itself. It begins healing itself. And by next summer, you’d never be able to guess the wrath the ocean and sky poured out on our beach last week. The scars will be but faint lines in the sand. (Or skin.)

And you know? As painful as it is, we sometimes need the outer crust to be pulled back. Sometimes the armor and scales need to be chipped away so that the “essential us” can be found.

Another thing I noticed were all the new shells. Our beaches (thanks to the tourists) are usually pretty barren when it comes to shell picking. But when the storm came through, it kicked up the ocean floor and spewed a new collection of seashells onto the shore.

And I saw that sometimes, only a storm can bring you the thing(s) you need/want–new shells, new opportunities, new paths.

It’s in a churning sea that the beautiful hidden things are brought to the surface.

The Beach Throughout the Week

Posted on August 26, 2011 by Krista

On Monday it looked like this,

and on Tuesday it looked like this.

On Wednesday

and on Thursday,

and then this morning as Hurricane Irene passed us by on her way up north it looked like this.

I brought the video camera along with me to shoot some live footage as well. To you West Coasters, these waves won’t look like anything compared to your Pacific. But for our lazy Atlantic, it was churning a right mighty lot. We only got the shoot off effects of the hurricane as it was a ways off our coast when it passed and never came inland on us directly.

In the video I am standing at the base of the water line which had come all the way up to the sand dunes–there was no beach to speak of–and the waves had littered the whole beach with debris.

My prayers go out to those of you in North Carolina and up the coast. We are so grateful Irene passed us by, but our hearts are with you. I hope you’re all safe.

Untitled from Krista Maurer on Vimeo.

Back to Base

Posted on August 26, 2011 by Krista

When I dropped my towel and headed for the water, I wasn’t really paying attention to anything but the waves. I’d chosen the spot because it was next to a tree and I figured it would be an easy landmark to see from the ocean.

Looking back however, I find it curious that I didn’t notice anything but the tree at the time.

After a few minutes of swimming, I walked back up the beach and laid my towel out to sit and meditate. I wrapped another towel around my shoulders, crossed my legs, rested my hands on my knees, and searched to find my focal point. But when I looked out in front of me, I realized, for the first time, where I actually was.

Scrawled in the sand, at the edge of my towel, was the word “Base.” And next to the word was a stick-drawn line that wrapped around the tree, creating a box. A Base.

I smiled as I thought of the children who must’ve had a wonderful game of tag the day before. And then I saw where I was sitting. I had spread my towel, without realizing, right in the center of their Base.

Base noun \ˈbās\

1 : the bottom of something considered as its support.

2 : the fundamental part of something.

3 : the starting place or goal.

As I continued to take in my surroundings, I then noticed my footprints. One after the other, they led from where I’d dropped my things to the edge of the water, and then returned to where I was currently sitting.

I fixed my eyes ahead and began to breathe. In and out … And in and out. Slowly the waves fell into cadence. Or perhaps it was the other way around. But together, we, the sea and me, just breathed.

I thought about where I’ve been the last couple years. In reality, I all but disappeared. I thought about the descent I made into the depths of my life. I thought about the failure and the disappointment and the fear and the unknowing. I thought about my attempts to clamor, to hide, to pretend. And then I thought about the purpose of it–about the necessity these last two years have been, and will continue to be, to my life, to my character, to my perspective, to my heart.

I thought about the way I’d raised my arms to the horizon only moments earlier as I’d stood there waist deep in the waves. Nothing could have kept me from lifting my hands to the sky that morning. All I wanted was for my arms to grow long enough to wrap around the endlessness in front of me. I wanted to touch it, to hold it, to pull it close to me. For the first time in almost eight hundred days I wasn’t scared, I wasn’t lost, and I wasn’t sad. I was open to the possibility and the uncertainty of it, all of it. But more than that–I was excited about it.

I feel as though I am, quiet certainly, at a starting place, a new beginning–that I’m face to face with the fundamental core of me and my purpose. And there is peace here. I feel hopeful and invigorated with a renewal of the determination that had tucked itself away into hibernation when the clouds descended. Little did I know, that as I emerged from the sea that morning, I was, in every sense, making my way back to base.

To Be The Father He Is

Posted on August 25, 2011 by Krista

Each morning the past few days I have greeted the dawn at the beach. It’s how I’ve always wanted to welcome the new day–outdoors, with face to sky. I’ve tried before, to get my sleepy self up (consistently) before the sun, and it’s never worked. But for some reason, something clicked this week. And now it’s the thing I crave. In fact, this morning I woke without the alarm, still sleepy yes, but wanting the ocean breeze on my face more than the soft pillow beneath me.

It’s quiet there, on the beach, at dawn. Just light, and earth, and air, and me. And I find stillness in the solitude. Stillness that centers this whirling mind of mine. Thoughts come and go, just as the waves rush in and out. But they float more like gulls on the wind rather than a storm-tossed ship.

It is here that I feel close to God. Every time I look out at the horizon or up at the atmosphere, to the right, or to the left, I hear His voice reminding me,

Endless adj \ˈen(d)-ləs\ 1 : to be without end 2 : extremely numerous 3 : joined at the ends

This morning, after returning home, I watched this video at the recommendation of a friend,

And I find myself now sitting in peaceful contemplation. With certainty.

There is a God in Heaven. And we are His children, in the very literal sense. He, the Supreme Ruler and Creator of the Universe, is the Father of our spirits. We lived with Him before we were born, together as a spirit family. He knows us each. And He loves us each. Because He created us each.

He is perfect, and kind, and merciful, and just. And forgiving. He is as real as the skin on my body. He is not mystical or unknowable, but is a personal God, ever-ready to come to us, to guide us, and to help us–essentially to be the Father He is.

We can pray to Him, and He will listen. But more importantly, He will answer. This I know. He will answer.

I know these things because I’ve talked with Him. I’ve counseled with Him. And no matter how confused I am or how big of a mess I’ve made, He always is there.

I don’t know if you’re the praying type, or the believing type. But I just want to say, that if you go to Him, you will find Him.

And I hope you will.

Bliss Is …

Posted on August 24, 2011 by Krista

a tall steamed hazelnut milk . a vanilla bean scone . lounging in the trunk reading the first chapters of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland . as the sun sets over the Carolina marshes

Keeping the Gnats Away

Posted on August 24, 2011 by Krista

This morning I got up early again to go to the beach for my morning dip and meditation. Hardly anyone was there and I was far enough out that I decided to turn it into a half-skinny, if ya know what I mean. (I do love me some skinny dipping.) Anyways, it was just light enough though that I thought it best to keep the bottom half on and it’s a good thing too, because about five minutes in, I found the current carrying me right into a school of jellies. A little baby one bounced off my arm, hit my foot and skidded up my leg. Thankfully it was small enough–it didn’t do any damage. But you’ve never seen a girl pull up her wet bathin’ suit faster then me. I dove under the next wave and swam with all my might against the current to shallower water.

By this time the sun was almost ready to wake up and I could tell it was going to be a good sunrise so I decided to hop out anyway. I walked up the beach to my perch, sat down, took a few pictures, and then prepared myself to meditate. I set my alarm for ten minutes, crossed my legs, rested my hands on my knees and looked for my focal point. And, with a deep breath in, and out, I began.

But within seconds, the sand gnats began buzzing around my face, landing on my nose, threatening to get stuck in my eye. And those little buggers are so small, no bigger than a dust speck, but annoying as h*!!. I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t clear my head. I couldn’t keep my focus. I just kept swatting. And I couldn’t figure out where they were coming from either. The previous two mornings, I’d had no such interuptions. I tried to push through my meditation, but it was just not going to happen. I gave up and decided to just watch the sun.

Then it dawned on me.

There was no wind today. I looked around at the dune grass and the waves and everything was calmer than yesterday, and the day before.

And I realized.

I am one, who really dislikes the winds of life. I’m not one for discomfort. I like things in neat, tidy packages. I plan and predict. I like life clean. And I’ve often felt the, “why me, I’m living a good life” syndrome, when those winds have arisen. I try to baton down the hatches and stand steady while they blow, but if I’m honest (and I’m trying to be) I sometimes allow myself to tailspin during the storm.

But.

Today I began thinking. What did the winds protect me from these last two years? Sure they knocked me off kilter. But what did they keep away?

Because this morning I learned that, just as the “wind makes trees strong.”

It also keeps the gnats away.

Nothing But Ocean & Sky

Posted on August 23, 2011 by Krista

Yesterday, I woke early. I slid out of bed and into my swimming suit, grabbed my camera and headed for the beach. The morning wind whipped through the open windows of dad’s grumbly truck and I turned off the radio. No one was on the road yet and the sky was in that in-between, sleepy blue phase—the one where it’s not still dark, but not yet light. How I love morning solitude. Sixty seconds later I tossed a couple of quarters into a parking meter and moseyed down the boardwalk.

Everything was calm, silent, except for the sounds of the sea. I laid my towel out near a twisty, crooked beach tree, dropped my camera, and walked straight to the waves. They crashed against my body, each one sending sea spray up to my mouth and curling my hair into tiny ringlets around my neck. I pressed into them, like a woman kissing her obsession for the first time, the salt settling sweet on my lips.

Sand shifted beneath my feet with every turn of the current and I kept walking, water rising, past my knees, my thighs, my waist, my chest–higher and higher, beyond the crashing surf, until it swirled and wrapped, over and around and over again, swaddling me as I laid there, softly treading, as the sun began to climb out from behind the clouds.

I looked out in front of me–nothing but ocean and sky.

Nothing but ocean and sky.

I settled my feet despite the moving floor below me and found myself lifting my arms–open, wide, and free–pulling the water up with me in tiny rivers that fell from my fingertips, wanting only to greet the endless horizon before me.

Phone call with Frit around 10:17 a.m. EST

Posted on August 22, 2011 by Krista

[Phone rings, Frit's ringtone]

Me: Coookie*!

Frit: Good molebing**!

Me: What you doing?

Frit: Just driving. You know. You still alive? How’d you sleep in that house all by youself?

Me: Yep. Not dead. I woke up at like 4:30 and was a little scared, so I locked my bedroom door. That made me feel better and I fell right back to sleep.

Frit: You heard from your parents yet?

Me: Nope. I’m guessing they just stayed over in Charlotte after the concert. No clue. But they’ve got to be back soon, cuz dad has to captain the noon dolphin cruise so … How’s your back feeling?

Frit: Fine. It feels better every day. … How’s the morning been?

Me: Good, nothin’. I woke up at 6:30, went to the beach. Watched the sunrise. Swam. Came home, showered, ate breakfast, got dressed, had a dance party, checked my email. Been answering the Crabbing phone. You know. Just a regular old Monday.

Frit: My favorite part about that whole list was that you had a dance party. … All by yourself.

Me: Well. Cook. I don’t know what to say. Sometimes you just gotta.

Frit: I know you do. I know you do.

[silence]

Frit: K, I’m walking into work.

Me: Alright, talk to you later. Have a great day!

Frit: You too! Talk to you later.

Me: Buh bye!

Frit: Sayonara sucker.

___

*One of these days, I’ll write a post about all the nicknames.

**One day I sent Frit a text that was supposed to say “Good morning!” but I mistyped and didn’t proof-read before hitting send. What actually got sent was a text that said, “Good molebing!” It stuck.

Those Beautiful Pelicans

Posted on August 22, 2011 by Krista

Yesterday after Church I went to the beach. No one else was home, so it was just me, the wind, and the waves. For three hours, I sat in the sand, splashed in the sea, and watched the pelicans fly overhead. They’re such beautiful birds, those pelicans. And not that it is, but if last evening were to be the only reason for my being here, the summer would have been worth it.

What the World Needs

Posted on August 21, 2011 by Krista

Is a whole lot more glitter.

What Am I Willing to Give?

Posted on August 20, 2011 by Krista

A few days ago, while in the shower, I had a thought—as often occurs when I’m standing there under the hot water. Showers, as it turns out, are fantastic places to think.

On this particular day I was thinking about something I’ve recently decided I want—a “blessing,” if you will. And the notion came to me, what would you give up to have it? Then, one thing that I ought to give up anyway, but don’t for whatever reason (undisciplined, slothful, human just to name a few), listed itself (or perhaps volunteered itself) at the front of the classroom that is my brain. And I thought, That’s not even a question. If I could have this thing I want, I’d give that up in an instant.

I have been taught, and I believe, that when we obtain any blessing from God, it is because of obedience to the law upon which that blessing is based or founded (Doctrine & Covenants 130 : 21).

I have also been taught that when we obey God’s commandments that he does immediately bless us (Mosiah 2). He even asks us to “prove [Him]” to see if He will not open the windows of heaven and pour out blessings upon us, so much so, that we won’t have room to receive it (Malachi 3: 10).

Perhaps I am weak of faith, but I’ve often struggled with believing the part about the “immediately bless” and the bounteous blessings pouring from heaven’s windows. I’m not saying I’m not blessed. And I’m not saying I’ve not seen the hand of God in my life. I’m just saying I struggle to see the immediacy and the abundance of which the scriptures speak, particularly when the blessings that I’ve wanted most in my life have never come, let alone knocked. It feels as though I am always waiting.

But what if. What if it’s a matter of obedience and sacrifice?

The last few days, I’ve found myself asking, What parts of me am I really willing to give, based on the belief that I’ll really receive the thing for which I ask in return? Am I holding anything back? What law is this blessing based upon and how can I be more obedient to it?

Unfortunately, this post doesn’t get tied up with a nice little bow at the end. There are still so many questions and sides to ponder, like: Does this mean that whenever we don’t receive a particular blessing, that we’re being disobedient? Does it mean we’re not sacrificing enough? How does God’s will and timing fit into this? How does our will and agency fit?

I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far yet.

But I do think we all know we have things we need to lay down, or rather—offer up. Things that, when we really stop to look, are obviously standing in the way of our ability to receive. And the question I keep asking myself is, why not just give it up?

We Like to Draw Out Our Celebrating As Long As Possible

Posted on August 18, 2011 by Krista

I think I’ve said this before, but I’ve always been a birthweek celebrator. I mean–if a birthDAY is fun and awesome (and it IS!), then how much better would a birthWEEK be? And to be totally honest, the older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve actually become a sort of birthMONTH celebrator. (A whole 30 days to celebrate ME?! Yes please!)

So when Kaycie & Alex’s wedding began to turn into a whole weekend affair, I was on board. We Maurer’s are celebrators–the more party the better. And I mean logistically speaking, it’s a bit tricky to do it all in one day anyhow. The closest LDS temple is in Columbia–a whole three hours away. How is it even possible to drive there, do the whole sealing ceremony thing, and drive back PLUS set up and attend a reception in one day? It’s just not.

Plus we are the only Mormons in our family, meaning no one but the immediate six of us could attend the actual wedding (you have to be a member of the Church to enter the temple). So in lieu, Kayc & Alex opted to have a ring ceremony in addition to their sealing ceremony where family and friends not of our faith could still attend a wedding-like event.

So, on the day after they were officially married, and right before the reception, everyone walked down the aisle, our dad officiated, mom sang, and Kayc and Alex exchanged vows and rings, all against the backdrop of the Carolina marshes. Gor-GEOUS.

After the ring ceremony everyone gathered inside for a southern buffet of pulled pork sandwiches, homemade macaroni & cheese, green beans, cornbread, and peach cobbler and dancing. Lotsa dancing. Awwww yeeaah.