You are dreamers, artisans, and difference-makers. You are creatives, entrepreneurs, and adventurers. You are believers in the world’s best future. Welcome to our community blog.
Today we’re hearing from Anna Kennedy from Mika CDC whose mission is to build whole relationships in Costa Mesa. One way they’re doing this is through Language Learning Nights hosted by FLDWRK Costa Mesa.
If you’re anything like me, you talk about practicing your Spanish more than you actually find time to do it. For many people, it’s been since high school, which, is getting further and further away. Our lives are busy and sometimes it’s hard to figure out a time to practice a foreign language.
The same applies for many of our native Spanish speaking neighbors here in Costa Mesa. Because of this, Mika recently launched Language Learning Night.
It’s a new year and we have big news. We started dreaming about what Wayfare would become over three years ago. It was our vision to create a workspace and support for organizations that would birth movements for the common good.
As we were forming the organization, we decided on the name Wayfare because it captured the heart behind our vision. The word Wayfare has a double meaning. It means the act of journeying. It also means provisions for the journey. This word clearly encompassed the community we envisioned—a community of creators, doers, and adventurers aspiring to pursue the common good and support each other in the journey.
Lots of people are saying 2016 was one of the worst years, and so they are looking at 2017 with hope, excitement and lots of plans to make big changes. I don’t know if 2016 was my worst year, but it was for sure my busiest. During overwhelming times like these, my dad says, “Life can feel like trying to drink out of fire hose. It all just comes at once and you feel like you may drown.” I was drowning this year! This year I was tasked with restarting a church that had experienced a huge decline and I published my first book where I was the primary author. The project included art, video and writing. So it was a crazy year where every other day I thought I was going under. Let alone feeling like I had a personal life.
I’ve been pondering the concept of legacy a lot lately. Perhaps because I just had my second daughter-and I’m overly intentional about the words that come out of my mouth towards and about them. I want every day, every moment, to be wrapped around intention because, truth is, girls still need to hear that they can and should do the hard and holy things in the world.
There’s another side to legacy that drives me. My mom. She is not my hero. No, the complete opposite. Her life was an example of everything I never want to be-selfish, addict, abusive, promiscuous…lost. My birth mom raised me to fear the world, fear her hand, fear her words. She made me believe my worth is in my sexuality and I’m only as good as the attention I received from guys. To go to college, to have a life long spouse, to do better for myself, well, this was selfish and wrong and I obviously thought I was better than everyone for doing so.
This year has been one of chaos, of change, of newness. I graduated college. Got engaged. New Job. Moved. Marriage. Bliss. Chaos.
With the beauty and the gift that change is, I’m never prepared for the grief that it’s paired with. Transition melts you and reforms you to where you feel like a piece of playdough that a 3-year old pancake-smashed, mixed with other colors, and stuck on the bottom of a desk. I almost don’t recognize myself.
This year, my husband and I created a New Year’s bucket list of all the things we wanted to do in 2016. The list included things like: ride a motorcycle through Vietnam, hike the narrows at Zion National Park, attend the RISE festival, and finally take up a ceramics class. And a graphic design class. And sewing (because why not?!).
The list was posted on our refrigerator throughout the entire year, and I looked straight into it every time I opened the door. The things on the list were inspiring and wonderful… and completely unachievable. Our plates were full.
As a child Christmas was my favorite holiday. However in recent years, the overall busyness, increased demands of the season, and the general state of the world, had taken away from much of the joy for me. It was for these and a variety of other reasons, (not the least of which was a gift request for squeaking dolphin slippers), that my husband and I made some changes that have shaped how we celebrate Christmas with our kids and it has made a positive difference in how we experience this time of year.
In this series, entitled Building Creation Economies, I’ve talked about The Confounding Merger of Work and Leisure and What is Work?. Now, let’s look at what it means to be a creator. I propose three components.
On our drive home from school, my thirteen year old son was telling me about his Christmas choir concert, and how he really did not like one of the songs. It just feels like they’re trying to make a calm holiday all jumpy and excited.
He’s our sensitive one. He often hears things differently than they are intended, is easily discouraged and offended, and takes about nine hours to tell us any kind of story. I laughed it off and turned up Baby It’s Cold Outside, which was sandwiched between Frosty the Snowman and Holly Jolly Christmas.
But there’s something true about our boy’s observation. There is this tendency to skip the dark and jump straight to the lights, the coco, the loud and bright and happy…forgetting that the silent night was what started it all-the calm, bright, quiet evening that preludes all the celebrations begin.
In the book of Genesis, we’re told a story about work. We’re introduced to a creator God as he’s performing his initial acts of work in our world. First, he created the original structure and foundation of everything–heavens and earth, light and darkness, and water, sky, and land. Then came vegetation, sun, moon, and stars in rotation, creatures of the sea, birds of the air, and beasts of the fields.
He called them good.
Then he did something different.