amber waves of grain

I'll be the first to admit that one of the reasons I moved south was the weather. We Bibers grew up in the Midwest, but there's no doubt we have southern blood somewhere in our lineage. We have no interest in winter, no matter how you slice it. 

But as much as I love (love) this Georgia weather, every fall, Indiana calls me back. I ache for the crisp weather. The blue skies contrasted against the green grass and yellow corn. The brightly colored sunsets that make your heart melt. The smell of waking up in my at-home bedroom, dewy mornings pouring in my wide-open window. My mom's uber-strong coffee, my dad's homemade breakfasts. 

And although this year's trip came earlier than my typical go, Indiana was ready for me. Unseasonably fallish, it was. It was cool and crisp and sunny and filled me up to the brim with Hoosier love. 

There was dinner with friends at Napolese. 

There was a family party, where I got to meet my cousin Chris' baby. As well as my cousin Becca's baby. Yes. Two babies. Two! (Yes, I was in heaven. No, I didn't care that I got spit up on three times. Oh, and yes, I debated stealing them but didn't think I could get through TSA.)

There was apple picking with my parents and Sam.

  

There was sushi at Kona with my parents.

There were walks and sunsets and iced coffees and good conversations and rest. Oh! Lots of rest. There was happiness and joy. 

And there was corn. Lots of corn.

And it was wonderful.

Happy Monday!

{yes}

My friend Jordan and I used to joke that when she said maybe, she meant no. And when I heard that maybe, I heard yes. I just can't help myself! I believe so deeply in the power of yes.

To say yes is a gift. It's to take on an adventure. It can be a risk - a life change - a small task. It can be so little or so much and you often don't know which until you're already into the yes. It's a glass of wine   - maybe - or it's hours of good conversation and a friendship growing deeper over an accidental bottle.

But I am only just recently learning the power of no. To know you need the time to yourself, the space, the opt out. 

To say yes is exciting on the surface, but to say no - to know your own needs on that level - is exciting in its own right. It's maturity and self respect. It's knowing when you need sleep instead of that glass of wine. Or time to reflect instead of divulge in conversation. 

Call it a testament to my parents' undying support, as I think my incessant yessing begins with a belief that I can do it all. My parents told me I could, so I can, right? Maybe. But just because you can do everything doesn't mean you should. To complete everything - carry the juggling balls over the finish line - is good. But to do fewer things, very well, can be so much more fulfilling. To go deeper into one task, master the skill is an entirely different level of satisfaction. 

And I'm still learning it. Learning to cut back and play to my strengths. 

Oh my gosh I am not a DIYer. And that's OK. No one needs me to DIY for them. But you know what I can do? Organize your closet. So when you're done crafting and your scissors and glue and paint are everywhere, I'm there. 

I'm learning it evermore as I get ready to go to Africa. I've been blown away by the support I've received. It has been incredible to  see the way people have said yes to me - have offered me the skills, gifts and support they have. I'm in awe. 

The way my dad gave to me financially last night, so generously. 

The way so many of you have supported me financially, also so generously.

And in prayers. 

How friends have called me asking what they can buy for the trip. Sunscreen? Bug spray? A sleeping bag? 

The way my company gave me product to take over. 

The way people have asked me the right questions, cared about what I will be doing, given me their time, love and concern for my travel. 

Shared my page. 

Shared my passion.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. For giving me what you can. For giving me the gifts you have and for saying yes to my adventure. 

I just love you all.

on what we need

Courtney and I joke because, anytime I leave a doctor's office, I call her and tell her, unabashedly, that I have a crush on the doctor.

And I mean it. Sincerely. I almost always leave appointments genuinely smitten, thinking about what his wife must be like. Do they host fun dinner parties together? Does she ask him medical questions? Do they have children? I wonder when they met. Did she go through residency with him?

During a recent appointment, as I sat there, wondering what this tiny old man was like outside of the office, I had a moment of clarity.

I am pretty bad at asking for and accepting help. Not pretty bad. Bad. And in the confines of a doctor's office, there is no way around it. I have to ask for help; I cannot do it myself. I cannot figure it out on my own or take care of it without him.

I think when you accept help, even from a stranger, it forces you to let them in. To accept the help is to admit: I need you a little bit. I am grateful for you. I will take this gift that you are giving me, even if you don't know how badly I need it. Even if I might not be able to repay you.

I noticed my issue with accepting help most clearly last fall when I broke my foot. Melissa and Katie repeatedly asked me how they could help. Did I need food? Could I please stop hopping down the stairs on one foot with my laundry basket? They would wash it for me.

Or even worse, when I went to the hospital immediately after I broke my it, the nurse took one look at my foot and told me I needed to sit in the wheelchair.

Right back at him, I took one look at his wheelchair and said: No thanks. I'll walk.

Quickly he said: No, you cannot walk on that. I will be sued. 

And I said: OK. I will hop. 

I couldn't, wouldn't admit I needed that wheelchair to help me. I was fine.

And I don't think I'm alone, here. I think there is a bit of a culture around this. Especially as girls. Especially as single 20-something girls. We've trained ourselves not to need things. Not to be needy. Not to accept help, because what if the help goes away, and we've become reliant on it? No. We are limitless; we do not need anything.

But this week, I found myself on the opposite side of the equation.

A friend of mine is going through a very difficult battle. She has more on her plate right now than any human could or should manage. And I want to help her. I want to bear any burden I can for her. I'll make her a meal. Get her groceries. Bring her coffee. Sit with her and talk or not talk. But she isn't ready to accept my help.

And while I was asking her to please, please, allow me to do just one thing, I realized that sometimes, the people that love you are offering to help not because you cannot do it. Not because you aren't enough. But because when you love someone, even if you know they can carry the weight of the world, they shouldn't have to. When you love someone and can't find a way to solve their problems, you want to find a way to wrap them in your love and ease their pain. With coffee, with conversation, with quiet.

With anything that might provide a moment of peace; a break from the pain.

Yearning to help her reminded me that we all spend time on both sides of the equation. We all have days, weeks, months where we need a little help, and that's OK. Not because we aren't enough, but simply because sometimes it's easier to ride in the wheelchair than it is to hobble.

And, before you know it, you'll be the one doing the pushing again.

fall, fall weekend

There is something about fall that is so life-giving. Even though it means the trees are dying and, in Atlanta, the 80+-degree weather is far different than the crisp Indiana days I grew up with. It's light and invigorating. It makes me want to speed up and slow down all at once. Hurrying to do every activity, and yet sipping slowly on my iced pumpkin lattes, which, I would personally like to rename Iced&Spiced. 

Saturday was one that was both restful and busy in the best way. It was a cup-filling, heart-happifying sort of weekend. 

Saturday morning we worked out outside, so excited for the cool morning. After that, we headed over to Grant Park for Root City Market, which is a pop-up shop that brings local artists together.

I finally tried Octane Coffee (Bucket List #78) and I can firmly say it was worth the wait. 

After that we visited my awesome roommate, whose business, Lily & Lucille, participated in the Salvage Market downtown. I loved seeing Melissa and Stacy's shop in action. 

Saturday night, Duke and Sam and I went to Antico (Margherita pizza + fall brews, yes!) for dinner, then a Nathan Angelo concert. 

It was the perfect mix of a planned and unplanned day, exploring this city that continues to feel like home, and always stays a little unfamiliar, a little surprising.

Other weekend highlights include an 80s benefit at Monday Night Brewery (first time there - loved it!). A new haircut Sunday (it's short, eek!) and a dinner at the W Buckhead Sunday night. I was all over this fine city! 

I hope your weekend was crisp and smooth, just how fall ought to be!