soundtrack of my life

supportive. comforting. usually gives just what I need. therapeutic presence. familiar.
traits that could describe a dear friend. and indeed, my favorite radio station is.

Lately I have been pondering the way my musical choices reflect the state of my life.

My early days were spent with a father whose superb taste in music went unnoticed and unappreciated by my youth, and a mother whose interest in pop exposed me to the fun of the ever-changing genre.

Upon becoming a Christian, I was amazed at all the "good" Christian music there was, and so filled my life with only those artists, which was fantastic for my mind and inner growth at that point.

College was a time of re-entering the realm of music as a whole. Young and fresh friends shared their interest in the treasure trove of goods that could be found- indie artists were awaiting at the end of the rainbow all around... it was a time of tremendous discovery and transformation, and therefore tunes were necessary to mirror this 'coming of age' so to speak.

In my earliest twenties, a new local station started and was brought to my attention by a musical friend of (still) the most delectable and stunning taste in artists. I was hooked by the random play list that tended to be so perfect. Even if I didn't like one song, I didn't bother changing the channel because chances were the next would be worth the wait.
**89.3 The Current** filled the role of my 'radio station boyfriend' for quite some time, and provided much needed therapy in high volumes while I was driving. Much in my heart.mind.soul cannot be expressed in words, and I find music enters a space that is only understood by God. While I do not create music, I find that listening to certain sounds and lyrics at the right time has an infusing life affirming quality.

I got married, and stayed true to my favorite radio friend until we moved to Seattle.
Prepared for the toughness of such a big transition, one result was how very much I missed *The Current.* Sure, I did some research and found the local equivalent here. But how could it ever be the same?

Instead, I soon found myself drawn to a new friend in the form of talk radio. It was too painful to listen to a music station that wasn't the one I had grown so close to. Doing so was a glaring reminder of how different life now was. And so I have become someone that includes the phrase "I heard it on NPR" in my everyday conversation. It has been an invigorating way to interact with world and local news, and makes use of centers of my brain that were previously a little dustier than I would prefer. It is good to be exposed to such intellect and beauty of thought.
One sad result: a great lack of music in my day.

Musical discovery in general has been absent because I have had to slowly mourn all that has remained in Minnesota- friends.family.lakes galore.all that is familiar. favorite eateries. favorite coffee. local bands filled with friends.
Being in a new place in a relatively new marriage and figuring out our life's direction is really fun AND really hard, which translates into a complicated paradoxical every day life.
There have been many great days intertwined with many dark. One day I rejoice in the romanticism of Seattle rain, and another the clouds and greyness are an appropriate companion for my mood.

But I just started giving that local indie station a real second chance; and requesting fresh CDs from the library. I actually miss spelunking for sweet new sounds. My musical appetite desires fulfillment again.

small steps that feel like a glimpse into a hopeful future.

{local Seattle band 'Campfire OK'
provided a much-needed bright spot with
completely impromptu concert in Nov.
Walked to center of my favorite coffee shop
and start playing banjo, two guitars,
stomping percussion and singing.
no microphones, no cover charge.
and they sounded amazing.}

Presently inviting suggestions for favorite new songs and cds worth trying.

anointed january

It is difficult
to quantify
the meaning of this time of year.
A burst of renewal followed with the slowest time of year
in life
in business
in events.

Days are getting longer
yet hibernation lingers
vitamin D in flavored chewable form rather valuable.

Even though the climate
isn't as cold as
I'm used to
a sense of numbness
and cold toes
haunt me.

Still Jesus
is alive
and ever moving
stirring in my heart and mind.
Entirely present
in anxieties about all that is to come
continually looking forward to when
the Bridegroom returns.
Times of melancholy restore
me
to His embrace.
Times of joy...
I rejoice!
in His provision and blessing galore.

Soon Mrs. T will be
wife of the chef.
First, though,
husband as student.

waves of homesickness
for MN
friends
family
snow
heat
nice
everything
strike my heart shores.

Pressing forward
running barefoot
Vibrams,
perfecting asanas.

enjoying the Bible Experience...

growing
tuning
knowing
God and self more
in the
stillness
of now.

Stillness at Daybreak

Before daybreak,
Jesus prays.
God wants to open up the heart,
before the heart opens up
to the world.
Before the ear
listens to the countless voices of the day,
let it hear
the voice of the Creator and Redeemer
in the early morning.
Stillness at daybreak
God made for himself.
It belongs to him.

- excerpt from Meditation and Prayer by Dietrich Bonhoeffer

journey to the center of good coffee

From a young age, I was not a fan of its taste. However, the scent of coffee was the morning smell I had come to associate with 'Mom'. Sure, I had friends that were drinking it as early as high school, and I took an experimental taste here and there. These early sips were followed with a crinkled nose and a confirmation of why I 'just liked the smell.'
After mere weeks in college, I was invited to join a group of girls that had begun a weekly tradition of going to Caribou Coffee near our campus. Each Wednesday, aka 'hump day'- (a term we said with a sly smile as it sounded dirty but really meant that it was just the middle of the week), we would walk or take the campus shuttle to get a beverage and chat, laugh, and share our hearts.
We soon nicknamed our new favorite coffee shop (mainly due to its location) and time of the week, creating a group we playfully nicknamed 'The Bou Girls'. At first I only ordered hot chocolate or tea, but after once adding a dash of coffee to my already overly-sweetened hot chocolate at an event, Wednesday became a chance for me to explore what coffee could be. My dear friend Melody was of particular inspiration, as she seemed to have been born to drink the stuff. Her sharing of drink ideas and ways to ease into the full bitter goodness of coffee were truly life changing. Irish Cream Latte. Lite White Berry. Like so many things in college, this was a time of education and growth. I wince at many of my choices in that time of my life, including my choice of caffeinated beverages, but they were of course an important part of my personal process. Oh, to be young and reckless again. A core group of The Bou Girls formed after a couple of years and we continued to meet consistently every Wednesday of college for all four years (laughing with a couple of the girls in photo left).
As I approached graduation from my undergraduate program, so I moved toward black coffee with a generous dash of cream and sugar. Coffee shops had become a place of comfort and refuge, which was a fortunate discovery as I entered into a time of uncertain living arrangements that begged frequent escape.

Then came Patrick.

I had heard mention from coffee-loving friends of the renowned Kopplin's of St. Paul, but for some reason hadn't gotten around to trying it. This turned out to be the place of employment for a man that rejoiced in all things coffee, had a kind way with people, and most especially loved the Lord. Upon meeting this Barista, I was promptly invited to visit him at work. Having motivations other than just coffee at this point, I ventured to a quaint and wondrous source of coffee and company (bar pictured left). Over the next months, he served me my first of the traditional Italian drinks: macchiato, cappuccino, espresso; and gave me the best mochas, lattes, and hot chocolate I'd ever had. It was a very tasty courtship (engagement photo right). Needless to say, I married that Barista and inherited not only a new last name but a plethora of knowledge and greater enjoyment of coffee.

With our lives now enriched not only with beverages, but each other, we knew it was time to follow the longing for adventure that pulled on both our hearts. We both love Minnesota and its people dearly, but were filled with the need to try another place for a while. The world was our playground, and the possible destinations were endless. Coffee was a minor factor amongst many others that led to our decision to move to the Seattle, WA area, but it sure was an attractive perk.

We set off for this Emerald City known for its coffee and the supposed birthplace of the coffee shop epidemic. I had entered a season of the con panne (pictured left) as my favorite order. As we spent our first weeks and months hopping from one specialty coffee shop to another, I could now compare their quality based on my encounter with their version of con panne, as well as the expert opinion of my husband, a master roaster and highly-skilled coffee taster. What a dream this land has been. Life came full circle when Melody came for a visit and I took her on a coffee tour through the city.


We know our time here is likely temporary, and I already miss the character and taste of the numerous quality cafes. In this liberal climate I have been fortunate to learn of the true source of coffee- literally who and where this product comes from. A highlight of our time here was an even hosted by Stumptown Coffee Roasters that featured a panel of coffee growers (pictured right) from around the world sharing their experiences and answering questions. Seeing farmers and hearing them share in person, many of them through interpreters, was a wonderful life altering experience that I hope will never fully leave me. These humble individuals are the reason it is OK to pay a little more for "just a cup of coffee." As they try to manage land in a way that produces a high caliber crop to please their international customers, they not only deserve to be paid a full, fair price, but they need to have a reasonable income to support their family. Given the increasing demand for good coffee beans, we imagine that coffee producers must live like kings. This is an unfortunate misconception, and the oft-touted 'fair trade' does not live up to its name or reputation. Thankfully, there are more and more coffee shops and roasters with character such as Stumptown and Kopplin's that are supporting direct trade with the farmers- a humanitarian effort that seems lost on most of the frivolous over-consumers of the product.

I am glad to know more about the origins of this beverage that has so augmented my life. There is nothing quite like good company combined with a good beverage, and being aware of its beginnings has enhanced the experience for me.

As the theme of coffee has permeated my life, I cannot help but ponder how far coffee and I have come together.
While trying to cut back on caffeine, I know my mom still enjoys a good cup from time to time; The Bou Girls have all moved on to new seasons and coffee shops, but we reunite about once a year, having long ago relocated our coffee shop meeting spot to various locations around St. Paul/Minneapolis; Patrick and I continue to live in the Seattle area, often entering the city for a coffee date, or at the very least stopping for a beverage to accompany us to another point of interest in this lovely northwesterly land.

No matter what comes my way or where God takes me, I'll make sure to stop regularly to enjoy a fine cup.

What a gift, what a joy, what a swell thing to sip. Coffee.