My first grown up decade...

Contemplating New Years is not something I commonly take seriously. First of all, the anticipation of the actual "celebration" of New Years Eve usually steals any deserved reflection on the Year itself. This feels foolish, being that in my experience, the "big party" seldom lives up to expectations. "Amateur Night" would be a proper term for my "Big Night Out" in years past.
Overrated.

That brings me to the next annoyance of predictability which rolls around every year, including the barrage of "People of the Year", "Year in Review" and oh-so-familiar resolutions which start floating around my head post-Christmas. Oprah is once again humiliated about her weight...The Top 10 People of the decade bore me once again(Where's Octo-Mom?!), and the ball dropping in Times Square still doesn't seem worth staying up for.

So this general holiday has been in the past, little but a bump in the road from Christmas to my Birthday. But this year, I looked at the impending date of December 31st, 2009, and realized this is a very slippery slope into 2010...which is a whole new decade! Gadzooks! Well, I think this deserves a little more nostalgia than New Years past, being that this one draws the curtain on my first "Grown Up" Decade...

and what a decade it was.

Well, grown up is a subjective term. I've lived in 6 apartments, had 14 jobs, and had my first and only relationship. Not necessarily the steady..."homeowner by 24, planning for retirement and 2 babies kind of 20's..." but I sure had a good time, and that is a good feeling. I know that I wouldn't change a thing about years 18 through 28, because they have been full of laughter and risks and silliness and hope and love. And for a girl in her 20's trying to figure it out...I'd settle for that.

In the beginning there were friends. Good, real, passionate girlfriends (plus Jake), and for them I will always be grateful. I learned how to first be in real relationships outside of my family, in a house dubbed the"Forest Fire" in Bellingham, WA. It was September 12th, 2001. There, on that day...which was on the heels of such epic tragedy...I stumbled upon some women in whom my soul could more fully flourish. Humour was our home. I loved that house.

Next, came a place called Skagway, Alaska. Skagway, to the common cruise ship passenger is merely a means to realizing their Diamonds Iinternational dreams...but to me and a few others it was a place that would grow to help define us. There we rode bikes, and played sqareball (with a glass of wine, as opposed to playing it a decade earlier). We told stories in smoky bars and laughed until we cried. We recited bad jokes on tour buses, and counted the hours until our friend-family could be together again. We hiked to the edge of the world and pondered why we would ever go back. After four summers, it was no longer a seasonal job, or a label I wore on my uniform...it was inside of me. Skagway planted in me a little wandering spirit, who forced me to seriously contemplate some things about the American Dream I'd been told. Is there a right way to spend a life while we have it?

That taste of adventure left me thirsty for more. I decided to do an internship in LA, with the money I made from my '04 season. Not a city I much cared to live in for 4 months, but God had other plans. In Los Angeles, I hosted kids and young adults around the city, introducing them to what life was like for the less fortunate there. Being a overly comfortable middle class kid myself, this was as much a lessen for me as them. I sat with people I had never known. Addicts and abused, those without homes...people who's names had been forgotten by the world. I soon discovered something that would change my perspective forever from these people. Those things...homelessness, addiction, abuse...did not define them. These people all had stories. I was the one who had not cared to listen. I soon found that listening finds change. Sometimes you had to dig for it, but you could find laughter and love resonating through the streets of skid-row and flowing through the filthy alleyways. These people were my brothers and sisters. Many of them knew more of faith than I could ever pray to. These were the people Jesus called the "least of these" and called me to know. To know...not to patronize or to stereotype, not to quarantine or quit...but to listen to and learn from the invaluable perspective of being wholly dependant on something other than what I had been taught to depend on...not money, not shelter, not clothes, but so often on the true Giver of life and breath. That was scary. I realized life was not as black and white as I thought it was. Love was dirty. It didn't always smell good or look good on a resume. It wasn't about how many degrees you did or didn't have. It was in the eyes of someone who you had nothing more in common with than a heartbeat. It was in that heartbeat that I heard Jesus whispering to me.

In 2006, another summer in Skagway lined my pockets with just enough gold to float over to Europe. I needed to see more. 6 months backpacking turned out to be just the ticket. 17 countries, each one offering a new story told through foggy magical townsquares, Christmas markets marinated in the scent of mulled wine, through smoky bars and cobblestone ways. Europe captured my imagination. I realized travelling was more than just the wanderlust of one's youth...it was a lifelong journey I so desired to take. A journey of discovering the way others see the world. I learned that everyone doesn't live in constant sight of strip malls and fast food. That some people nap during the day, and stay up really late talking to friends. Some people take a really long time eating meals and don't rush around so much. I learned that I'm not done learning, and that was one of the most refreshing realizations of my first grown up decade.

Another milestone is when I said goodbye to my beloved 1987 Dodge Aries, as her time on this earth came to a bitter end. Little did the Lokar clan know in 1987, when we were buying the shiny new Dolphin Silver Aries off the lot, would she tote me well into the 2000's. She was so good to me, always masking the ketchup I spilled on the middle seat with her perfect shade of gray, and always being so accommodating with her antiquated bench seats. Through much abuse and ridicule, she held her boxy head high...proud till the end to be a K Car. RIP.

One thing I was confidant I wouldn't find in this decade was a mate. Potential mates, on the whole, annoyed me and left me baffled at how anyone actually "found someone." I wasn't particularly concerned with this, being that I was enjoying so many other facets of life, but the ever-present sympathetic, unknowing, blank stares from women who didn't understand my lack of panic at being single and 26 grew tiresome. The truth is, I didn't know what I was missing, and I can only say that because I was lucky enough to find the exact...perfect...no doubt about it...guy for me. What I was missing was Cory. The only man on earth I can imagine loving as much as I love him. He is a miracle to me. Truly. There is nothing else to say.

As I draw the curtains of this decade and pounce (crawl?) onto the stage of another, I am in a rearranged and readjusted version of the same spot I was in 10 years ago. I still don't exactly know what I want from this brief life...but I have a much better idea. I know now, as opposed to my 18 year old view, that life is not what others think about you. That is a very valuable chunk of knowledge I store very close to my person at all times. I know now, which I didn't know then that I have an insatiable "taste for the abyss". I don't know where that knowledge is going to take me, but I know it won't leave me at home for long. I know now, which I definitely didn't know then, that the "least of these", the people who have so much less and have been through so much more in this world...have more to teach me about faith and love and true life than I ever would have dreamed as an extremely closed in 18 year old.

There are some new players in my show, for whom I am devastated with gratitude. Their performances in my life have wracked me with laughter, left me in tears of love, and inspired me to be a better and more active participant in my life. And for my family, the players who have always been there...I am so grateful that our genetic relations have turned into friendships, which 10 years ago I never could have dreamed would emerge from the hormone ravaged mess I had created.

As I peer into the future, things are delightfully foggy. The agenda is not clearly laid out. However, I know that the ideals and relationships I have stored up in my soul over the last 10 years, along with the ever-present faithfulness of my Lord, will guide me through, in MY style and version of success...to New Years Eve 2019.