found it on the Pintrest
What set everyday life apart from our adventures?

What puts the extra in the extraordinary days?

This earth we walk is big and beautiful and I want to see it all.
I'm adventurous by nature and want to travel and explore and see new things and create .

But as a responsible adult I find that I can't travel everyday. I can't leave the country every few months or when the mood takes me. I have to work and provide and pay Capital One and make my car payments on time and pay the mortgage. 

When we look at the day to day existence of our lives it can weigh us down. It bores us.

Our souls begins to atrophy...they shrivel and die.

Art can revive us, wake our souls from slumber, remind us we are built for more than just to consume, but to create.

I can attest to this. When I sit down to write it actually feels like I'm shaking the dust free from my soul. After I've finished I feel more myself, more who I was created to be.

A higher calling is to see the art in someone else. To look someone in the eye and say there is art in your soul, I dare you to release it. To call the gold out of someone. To help them "wash from their soul the dust of everyday life."

At the end of all things, relationships are the most important things in our lives. We must get to know someone to help them find their creative outlet as we find our own. When I lie on my deathbed I am sure that I will not say "I encouraged others too much, I should not of helped them. I guess I was just too generous." No, my goal is to be the encouragement, that breath of fresh air. 

See the art in a human soul. Ignore the dross, point out the gold. A single kind encouraging word can change the course of a life. 

I believe this.

I willing to bet you do too.
photo credit http://scififx.com
We are all time travelers in our own way. 

We tell ourselves that we live in the present, that we can only exist in the now. We've convinced ourselves that our only experiences are linear, cause to effect. Past to present. Present to future.

But this is not true. Many of us travel to the past on a daily basis, wallowing in nostalgia, eating the fruits of yesterday. Others completely live in their past. Setting up a camp, laying down at a traumatic moment and existing only there, never moving forward, never experiencing their own present, their own future.

Others look only to the future, speculating, feeling their life can only start in the future and never now. Waiting, waiting, waiting for their real life to begin. Only in the future after I get married, after I have children, after my children are grown, after I move to New York, LA, Chicago, only then can I chase my dream and become the hero to my own story. Never in the moment, missing all that is good about the now. Some wait too long, awaiting some unknown inciting incident and miss their entire life.

There are those I know that lament their years, are ashamed to admit they are in their late twenties, early thirties, forties, fifties. They pretend they are younger, still relevant to our youth worshiping culture. Never embracing the gift that is now. The person they are, the sum of their experiences.

The fact remains that the best time for us is the present. Right now. This is where we belong. The best time for you to start something new is right now, not tomorrow, not yesterday. The best time for the person that you are is this time,this moment. 

You learn more everyday. You become the person you were meant to be a little more everyday. If this is true then your best days are always ahead of you, don't rush to meet them, don't drag your feet thinking your best is the past. 

Stop the wandering, leave the past, leave the future, plant your feet in the present. Experience this moment. Try something new, set a new goal. Start today. It's the only one you have.

You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.
C.S. Lewis
An adventure is an inconvenience rightly considered" 
G.K. Chesterton
my first blizzard
I pulled the moving truck into the apartment complex that would be my future home close to ten o'clock that evening. I yawned and shook my head trying to get my eyes to focus, I knew I still had too much to do before I could sleep. I had been up and driving since 3 o'clock the night before. Nineteen hours of driving a moving truck had taken its toll on my exhausted body.  

I stepped out of the truck, feeling the snow crunch beneath my feet. I pulled my hood of my jacket over my head, shocked at the cold. It was the dead of February in Chicago and this southern boy had never felt negative temperatures before. I went to unlock the rolling door of the truck to pull out the mattress so we could sleep before moving the rest of the stuff in.

The wind kicked up and I instantly got homesick, thinking back to the state that had been my home for the last twenty five years. "What have I gotten myself into?" I asked aloud, each breath turning into vapor and then rapidly disappearing in the rising wind.