I have a little more than three months left of being nineteen, and life feels very in between.

In between decades. In between sophomore and junior, under and upper-classwoman. In between Illinois and Pennsylvania. In between car rides downtown with my dad and trips home for the weekend. In between high church Anglican and low church non-denominational and wondering, a lot, about worshipping and being a woman. In between writing and theater, not quite sure what to call myself other than some kind of artist, maybe. In between wishing I were in Chicago with my boyfriend and wishing I were in London with my roommate and wishing I were in Erie with my siblings, and in the end trying not to wish I were anywhere other than here (“here” being a coffee shop across the street from a rental apartment in the suburbs of Pittsburgh).

Lots of in between.

“What do we do with the life between breaths?”

Last November, one of my theater professors asked this question of us, the cast and crew of a weird and wonderful production of Brecht’s Caucasian Chalk Circle,  as we stood gathered for prayer before our closing night, and it has tumbled around in my mind ever since.

“What do we do with the life between breaths?”

It means something to me. I’m not really sure what yet, but something. Enough of a something for me to use it as a blog title. Life between breaths. The in betweens. This weird time of being very nineteen for just a little while longer, thinking about art and words and places and existing and faith, and remembering a conversation with another theater professor who told me “you’re a maker. You’re not going to be happy unless you’re making something.”

So here I am, trying to make something. Trying to remember why I ever started calling myself a writer. Trying, imperfectly and before I’m ready, to create a little online space for the in betweens. I hope you’ll come rest in it with me.

A question. “What do we do with the life between breaths?”

An answer–my answer, an imperfect work in progress:

  1. Buy nectarines.
  2. Read Chaim Potok novels.
  3. Take pictures of Pittsburgh.
  4. Also, just walk around in Pittsburgh.
  5. Re-watch Downton Abbey. 
  6. Have long Skype conversations.
  7. Embroider.
  8. Think about cooking, and try it, too.
  9. Remember even more words from a theater professor–that God is the God of the inhale and the exhale and the moments in between.
  10. And apparently, start a blog.






4 thoughts on “starting

  1. And I sit here reading this with less than a month left of being 29 (yikes!). My first thought was that I didn’t do anything in the last decade but then I realized that wasn’t remotely true. Thanks for reminding me to stop and reflect. I find your writing very compelling. Looking forward to reading more, cousin!


  2. You are a writer, that was beautiful! Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I look forward to reading more of them! (I wish I was in London right now too with that roomate of yours! :)) But I love the lyric that says “it’s Your breath in our lungs so we pour out our praise…” I think worshiping is a beautiful way to spend the time between breaths as I remember that every breath is a gift from Him, breathing in His grace and breathing out His praise. Have fun in all those moments of “in between”, enjoy each one truly and don’t wish them away.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s