The Non-Competition Curse

Recently, I read a quote by Donald Miller that got me thinking. He said,

"I'm noticing that my less competitive friends accomplish so much less than I do & are so much more content."

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I thought about these words frequently during the past 2 weeks as I finished projects, typed papers, studied all night for exams, and prepared to finish my second semester of graduate school. In the world of academia, I often struggle to separate myself from the rat race that is academic success. In my heart of hearts, I desire learning over grades, but the system doesn't function that way & I fall into the trap semester after semester despite knowing that it isn't right. It seems like everything about how the world works points to a fundamental truth that success comes to those who work hard enough. The harder we work, the more we gain, & those who get to the top get there through dedication & effort. Basically, if you have enough desire, you'll fight hard enough, & if you fight hard enough, you'll win. 

 I've also thought about that quote in regard to other aspects of my life. Apart from academia, I've always been a little bit frustrated by my lack of competitive spirit. I've often felt torn between this idea of working hard for what I want, yet being patient & allowing myself to receive what God has for me. When I look at my life, I see seasons of passivity sprinkled with dedication which turned into an obsession to get what I wanted. I've learned the hard way that accomplishing things in my own time leads to more destruction than success. Manipulation is a corrosive trait, & the fight for control is one that I have battled most of my life.  Surrender is such a simple word, but such a difficult concept to grasp. 

It all makes me wonder. How hard do you work for what you want? For academic success? For relational success? Is it okay to not want to fight for something that isn't yours to fight for? I fully believe that God has the ability to transform & awaken my desires. I've watched him do it in my life. But I've found that the most receptive position to receive is with an open hand. & competition, in the right contexts, can look a whole lot like a closed one. It makes me think that Donald Miller

might have had something when he equated contentment to freedom from competition. 

[Those] girls.

          I used to think it was kind of crazy when girls did things regarding their future husbands. I had a roommate once who kept a journal that she wrote letters in- each of them addressed to the man she would one day marry. For whatever reason, the idea of that journal freaked me out a little. I had another friend who frequently wrote, altered, and perfected “the list.” The list was made of details, down to eye and hair color, that described her perfect future husband. She fully believed that this list would manifest her perfect man, & if she searched long enough, she would find him. It is not as puzzling to me why that list freaked me out more than a little bit.  Sure, I’ve prayed for him when I’ve thought about it, on occasion. But most of the time I’ve just rolled my eyes & allowed these activities to be left to the crazy girls; the ones so desperate to discover who they’ll end up with that the quest itself leaves them bitter & jaded by any male relationship that does not fulfill the heavy expectations in their hopeful hearts. I’m not saying this cynical view is correct, but it’s what I’ve generally believed.

         Maybe it’s because it’s spring & the save-the-dates on our fridge are multiplying each time I blink, but lately I’ve found my thoughts wandering to who my future husband is- who he will be. I’m not writing any journals or keeping any lists of characteristics, but I do sometimes find myself musing over what that future might look like. Like just about everything else I am cynical toward & then change my mind about, I tell myself, “It’s different when I do it.”  It’s less desperate or weird when I do it, because my motives are pure, I’m just being forward thinking, etc.  For the record, I’m certainly not becoming one of those girls. [If I were to hashtag this statement, it would look something like this: #denial] So maybe I am becoming one of those girls. But either way, It’s kind of fun to wonder who he’ll be. I mostly wonder about harmless things. Things like:

I wonder if he was on Jack Shepard’s side or John Locke’s side [because he must be on one]

I wonder what his dreams & passions are.

I wonder if he’s contemplated what his patronus would be if Hogwarts were real.

I wonder if he ever wrote a journal to me or if he ever made “the list.”

I wonder if he already possesses a love for Arrested Development, or if he’s willing to be converted.

            The nature of these things I am wondering might be an indication in itself that I am

A. Not ready to married

B. Actually more crazy than "those" girls,

but it is fun to think of these things.  At the very least, it helps me realize a hopeful, non-bitter side to the future of relationships. 

The week I spent in silence

Recently, I found myself thinking about my thoughts. I’m pretty sure this is called metacognition, but after several ethics and philosophy courses, which did little more than confuse the heck out of me, I am not entirely sure. On Sunday afternoon, probably inspired by a particularly strong case of the Sunday Blues, I realized that my thought life has been overwhelmingly chaotic and disordered lately. As I contemplated why I haven’t been as introspective as I usually am [I suppose this is a bit of an oxymoron], I realized that moments of silence are almost non-existent in my life these days. I felt tired of just floating through my days mindlessly, & I decided in that moment that this week would be different. Since I am unable to drastically rearrange my schedule, I confronted different options for how I would spend more time in conscious thought:

11.  Wake up earlier to spend time reading and writing down my thoughts

22.  Use driving time [which is usually used for LOUD music time] for silence

33. Cut out a chunk of mindless internet/social media time just to sit & think

While I truly would love to do all of these things in some form, I chose number 2 for practical, measurable purposes. For anyone who knows me, I love music. I listen to it from the moment I wake up until the moment I fall asleep. Car time for me = music time, & the fastest way I will generally bond with someone is through a mutual appreciation for music. Spending an entire week in silence in the car was a fairly significant commitment for me. 

Here’s what I’ve learned:

Sometimes, when I get the chance to be alone with my thoughts for long enough, I am crippled by how palpable they become. In those moments, I am reminded of a Jon Foreman song that has the words,

“…when all of her nightmares grew fingers & all of her dreams grew tears …”

I remember the first time I heard that song. I actually got chills during those words because in that moment, he just knew me. I got chills not because I related to those specific personifications of abstract things, but rather because my own fears and dreams are that real sometimes, & I was thankful that Jon Foreman was able to articulate it in such an eerily beautiful way.

When I think about my thoughts, I am sometimes frightened by my own reflection. I could honestly give myself a headache in about two minutes of just rabbit-trailing my own brain, but I am simultaneously excited by the fact that I am capable of creating an entire world within my own mind. This week, I confronted thoughts of hopefulness for this new season of life. I confronted fears that felt so real, so human in my mind, that I swear they were sitting in the passenger seat next to me. I was able to confront them in the silence, & it was good.

Sundays, why are you blue?

Sundays were never meant to be what they mean to me currently. 

I've written about it before, but there's something about Sundays in 

my current season of life that leave me feeling just a little bit down on

good days, & straight-up defeated on bad days. 

Sundays were meant for rest. 

Sundays were made for reflection. 

Sundays were meant for restoration. 

I am thankful for this reminder today. 

What I'm listening to.

Sometimes I wonder if I should be concerned about my

apathy about certain things. Its the Super Bowl today

& all I can think about is how excited I am that coffee shops

are probably super empty so I can get homework done 

without a crowd. I had the thought this morning that maybe 

I should care about football more, but then I realized that I 

have enough obsessions, & it's probably a good thing that sports

are not one of them. With that said, music is one of my obsessions, 

& I have been listening to lots of good stuff lately that is all new to me. 

Enjoy. 

Rejoice, my heart.

There is something about hymns that really speak to my heart.

Sometimes I can't believe that words written centuries ago have

such truth & meaning so many years later. I can't believe that the

time between then & now hasn't stripped the relevance from the 

verses; that the deepest longings of the writer's hearts are the same 

as mine. Words like: 

O love that will not let me go, 

I rest my weary soul in thee;

I give thee back the life I owe

that in your ocean depths 

its flow may richer, fuller be. 

I've had this song on my mind for a few days now. The words

have been speaking to me, as I've sure they've spoken to countless

others before me. I love that idea.

So rejoice, my heart.

Rejoice, my soul; my savior God has come to thee. 

Rejoice my heart, you've been made whole

by a love that will not let me go. 

What I've learned [Part 4]

This is the 4th installment of a mini series.
If you've missed anything, find it here, here, or here.

Brokenness yields opportunity for new things. 


When I moved to Nashville in August, shortly after the hardest season I'd experienced in my life had begun, I knew that few things would  seem familiar in this next chapter I was about to start. 

I was moving to a brand new place 1,000 miles from home, 
&  I knew this move would bring a range of things to adjust to [ traffic, weather changes, 
southern drawls, completely independent living].

 I honestly felt like the person who was moving to Nashville was not the same  
person who had graduated the year before & was about to watch 
all of the intricate dreams she had carefully created for her future unfold. 
I've struggled with living in the now my whole life. If I'm honest, even as I 
write this, I can't help but think of what's next- finishing classes, moving on to my residency
& then moving on from there. 


I've realized that once I saw all of my visualized plans of living in Nashville dissolve, I was left
with a blank slate of opportunity. Nothing I decided to do was hinging on another person,
an idea of my future, or a plan that was already made & waiting to be carried out.
I was completely free [& at times forced] to explore, create, & discover many of the things
I had neglected to think about because I was so far projected into the future I had created.
My time in Nashville so far has been an almost daily experience of recognizing newness;
there are so many opportunities here, so many relationships to be made, and so many 
risks to be taken that I might have missed out on had my 
original plans panned out the way I wanted them to.



 & while I am sometimes still painfully aware 
of the plans I once had & their current state of non-existence, I am finally able to
realize that letting go of them [a daily process] has opened up the opportunity for
new things. Not better or worse, just new. I am not willing to say that none of
these plans will ever come to fruition, but the time just isn't now, & that's okay.

This all reminds me of the song that inspired the namesake of this blog a few years ago:

Hello, my old heart.

It's country Sunday, but I'm listening to this instead:

It's from Texas, so it's close enough to country Sunday.
If you're craving some eclectic folk rock from 

two Texan siblings, give this a listen. 

It's a song that will make you happy & sad at the same time.

I love it. 

All Too Well.

It's a Taylor Swift kind of morning. 

Try as you might to hate her, her new album is good. 

[REALLY good.]

I'll pretend it's because I live in the same

town as her, but honestly there's just something

so emotionally appealing, catchy, and perfectly angsty about her

songs that I can't get enough of this morning. [or ever, really.]

I am satisfied in you.

Some days I am restless. 

Other days, being satisfied is as simple as breathing

the next breath, thinking the next thought of how much I am thankful for.

I know a lot of my daily experience depends on my perception 

of what is going on, but I also know that both of these 

types of days were created by God for a purpose. I am completely

understood by Him, & therefore my deepest needs are met by

his closeness as a response to my longing for Him. 

Today is one of those easier days & I am thankful  for that. 

Look what you did to me, Autumn.

It's officially started snowing in Colorado. 

It's weird to look out my window and just barely

see the first signs of fall here in Tennessee. In fact,

I'm sitting here in jean shorts and a t-shirt & it doesn't

seem right that this is what's going on at home: 

Colorado, I'll see you at the end of this week. 

Day by day.

I'm three weeks closer to being called "Doctor."

My concept of time is throwing me off-

days seem to pass so slowly, but I can't

seem to believe that one month ago today, 

I moved to Nashville. 

Class is in full swing, and I'll bet before I know it

I'll be working on my residency & sitting for the 

national boards exam. I've already found my old

bad habits of prioritizing poorly and studying ineffectively

haunting me in just three weeks. 

But I'm learning. 

Today Wasn't Made for Me & You.

It's been too long. I've got lots of thoughts,
most involving the fact that It's now been
[three weeks] since I got to Nashville.

It's been great. I'll update more on that when I
get a chance to fully plant my feet underneath me.
But I know what happens when I take too long of
a break from writing: I keep waiting because the
thoughts of things I want to write about become
overwhelming. So this is me breaking the silence
& vowing that I will write a proper update soon.

Until then, this is what I'm listening to lately
as I begin to call Music City home:

It might not be the prettiest thing that you'll ever see

...but it's a new day.

It's been raining for hours. Where this rain was 2 weeks ago when 

the entire state was on fire, I'll never know. However, there is rain 

& the earth is starting to look happy again around here. 

I can't help but feel like the rain is symbolic for so much more than

watering the ground. It is the beginning of life for what was just burned

very badly. It is nourishment for what survived, & it is a softening agent

for what has solidified under the heat of the fire. 

I won't lie. This season of life has been more painful

than I could have ever imagined. Some times I just

want to say "enough is enough," & become angry because it 

doesn't seem fair that so much could be lost in such a short period of time.

But all I can hear now & have been hearing for the past 2 months is this:

"Be patient." 

There are so many things
that these 2 words could mean, but at this moment in time,

that's all I'm getting. & I refuse to try to decode what I'm not yet 

ready to understand. So until these 2 words start to make more sense,

I'll take them for face value & wait. 

I was made for sunny days.

We've had a lot of rain recently. 

It's had this song in my head for days.

Days like these

It's days like today, 

where everything in my environment reminds me. 

Rainy weather,

songs on the radio,

walks around my neighborhood,

television shows,

dreams,

conversations with friends, 

pictures I haven't yet taken down.

Most days I am busy enough to not

be distracted by my thoughts of what

is happening & what is to happen in

my life, but today, I was not. Everything

around me today pointed to a relationship that I

no longer have, 

desires that may never come to be, 

& a season of my life that is over. 

The strangest thing about this day is 

for the first time, I wasn't sad. 

My first thought was not to have 

my circumstances changed, but 

rather to recognize a change that 

has happened in me- that is happening in me.

It's country Sunday, but this song

has been on repeat. 

Country Sunday

My week of being in Colorado Springs has

had its ups & downs. More ups than downs, &

I am thankful for that.