Courage is Not the Absence of Fear

Thirteen years ago today, I was standing alone on the side of the road. Why no one offered help to a ten year old little girl in this condition I had no idea. So many people stopped their cars. Someone I didn't know had called for an ambulance. On came the cops and a fire truck and the EMS and no one noticed the little girl sitting outside the guardrail waiting for someone to notice her. I finally got up the courage to ask a woman speaking on her cell phone if I could borrow it and call my mom. She immediately hung up her call and let me dial mine. I had a mild panic attack when I couldn't remember the area code but my mother had made me memorize her number for instances just like this. "Mom, we were in a wreck. I'm ok but I don't know about Daddy or Katelyn."

At this point, a cop found me and asked to speak with my mother. An EMS guy came over, strapped me on a board (which I walked over to and climbed on all by myself). I went to the hospital. Not long after, they told me that my daddy had died and we were going to see my sister in a different hospital. I had to get back in a car.

These are the memories that on this day cloud my thoughts. What I remember is strange though. I don't remember feeling afraid. I don't remember feeling lonely. I don't remember feeling particularly sad, other than knowing deep down somehow that my dad was probably gone. I just couldn't understand why I was without an adult I knew, surrounded by other adults, and no one was worried by this. I do remember not feeling particularly hungry when the youth minister took all the younger kids and me to Whataburger. I had a chocolate shake.

Fear is a funny thing. I'm afraid of spiders. I'm afraid of people I don't know and situations I can't control. I'm afraid of failure. I'm afraid of success. I'm afraid of going on stage and croaking. I have a strange, inexplicable fear of being shot. But somehow, at any given time, I can say to myself, "I do not have time to be afraid." I then ignore the fear, tell myself it doesn't matter if I'm afraid or not because I have things to accomplish, and do what needs to be done.

The week leading up to my move to the Big City, I went back and forth between afraid of leaving and so excited to arrive. But ultimately, I needed to move. I needed to see if I could do it. I did it. It's strange and a little unnerving sometimes. I meet lots of people and I'm lonely most of the time. I've made acquaintances but I haven't made any relationships. The thing is, I'm not afraid to try. A very smart ex-boyfriend of mine used to say, "Ask. Asking is free." Which I still to this day tell my friends to do. I've applied that to fear: Try. Trying is free. It's free advice. It's free experience. It's free credential.

Meg Cabot, the author of the Princess Diaries wrote, “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all. From now on you'll be traveling the road between who you think you are and who you can be. The key is to allow yourself to make the journey.”

Thirteen years ago today, I first made the choice to suppress fear. I suppressed my fear of talking to strangers and asked that lady for her phone. I suppressed my fear of being alone long enough to remember the area code for Austin because my mother needed to be informed. I suppressed the fear that I could be in a car wreck again and got back in the car to go see my sister, because she had been through the same thing I had.

Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was naive. Maybe it was bravery. But somehow that stuck. The ability to ignore it and do what needed to be done stuck.

I do not have time to be afraid. I ask because it's free. I try because it's important. I do because it's necessary.

Just a Little News

We finally got a little bit of respite from the cold today. It was forty-four degrees and sunny for just a little bit. Beautiful!! Daisy and I got to go for a gorgeous walk and I got told I was beautiful by a bunch of random strangers. I kept walking. But it was still nice to hear!

The job search continues. I have had some wonderful help from even more wonderful people with resumes and referrals, encouragement and support. I recently found a posting for a job from 10-7 which really would be the best time frame, the best amount of hours and there would be so much room to grow with the company. I am very hopeful and optimistic about it!!

It is surprisingly cheap to live in Staten Island. There are dollar stores everywhere and there isn't tax on things under fifty dollars. It is the strangest thing. At least I think that's how it works... In Texas, there is an 8.25% tax on just about everything from food to clothes to groceries. I could calculate a reasonable price in my head in two seconds flat! But no tax?? It's just too easy! I mean, everything in the dollar store is the cheapest it possibly comes and well, finding Charmin in this town is like finding a twenty in the subway. It doesn't happen a lot and it's really exciting when it does... But I am figuring out which stores have Charmin, which ones have Double Stuf Oreos, which ones have good dog food. And none of these things are at the same store.

I also haven't really been off the island in a couple of days so I don't have anything new to write about. It's a little strange to write a blog. I frequently wonder if people really care about my little problems, thoughts, and musings. I rewrote this post three times, and the dollar stores were the best subject! So I guess just take this post as an update and maybe I'll have an epiphany for you tomorrow.

Oh and I have my first lesson in NY with Mignon on Friday! It's been rescheduled once but I hope it will happen since she was the reason I moved here in the first place. So stay tuned for updates on how that goes. As always, thanks for reading and have a happy week!

First Snow

It is snowing, friends, on SI and in the city. It is so beautiful, it looks like the finest glitter falling from the clouds. It's so cold, but what a treasure to see something so beautiful!

It's the first snow I've seen all winter; it's also the first snow I've experienced in New York. My shoes are worthless on the slick streets and forget any hairstyle but a ponytail. The snow melts in my hair and eyelashes rendering me the lookalike of a frozen drowned kitten, no matter what I try.

On  side note, I'm thinking of starting a little blurb and calling it, "According to Kathy." I went to my little grocery again today and chatted with Kathy, the Long Island Asian lady, and it's just so nice to have a gossip friend. I thought it would be cute to record the funny little conversations we have, like we are the oldest and dearest friends. So here's the first one:

According to Kathy, Starbucks pays something like $15 an hour and it's the best place to meet cute single boys. The best nanny jobs are in the city for the upwardly mobile young couples and can pay around $40,000 a year. For this information, I traded my newly discovered secret of a little store call Green Finds, where I found a cashmere sweater marked down to $10!

The job search continues. I have had a few nibbles on my resume but no one has bitten yet. I am so grateful to be living in the wonderful city, despite its cold and its poor grammar and manners. Guess I'll have to get my Southern out and teach 'em, won't I??

Keep reading, my friend! Have a blessed weekend!!

Muzzle, Dillards, Commercials, and Cold

So I read up on the rules for the ferry and Daisy can ride the ferry but she must wear a muzzle. I bought her a muzzle a few days ago (at a pet store I just happened across in the city). But Daisy has never worn one. She's never bitten anyone, doesn't bark a lot and is altogether pretty good natured. I tell you, I was laughing SO HARD when I put this thing on. Sweet Daisy was so patient while I made it the right size then spent the next fifteen minutes rubbing her face with her paws, rubbing her face on my legs, staring at me with those ASPCA-forgotten-or-abused-pet eyes. We went for a walk to try and get used to it. She eventually figured out she could still smell with it one but she definitely doesn't care for it. However she does let strangers pet her with it on... Although that may be because she's hoping they will be her savior and take it off. Anyway, she was a good girl and wore her muzzle today. I was very very proud of her.

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So I've discovered this thing called small business. It's what NYC is all about. That's all fine and dandy, but there are hardly any chain stores or department stores to speak of. The one I miss most? Dillard's. I. LOVE. Dillard's. I love the brands of shoes they carry, the lines of make-up they carry, and it is much more reasonably priced than Macy's. Upon realizing I need more of my Clinique make-up, which I have always gotten at Dillards with a free makeover for being such a good customer, I search for Dillard's in NYC. THERE ARE NONE. Seriously?? The closest Dillards is Virginia. Virginia!!! So along with everything, I am going to have to find a new make-up. Or at least a Clinique store...

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I've noticed this weird thing: The commercials here are completely different. We don't have the same commercials for the same products (what few similar products there are). The tactics they employ, the appeals they use are so different than what I'm used to. It makes having the TV on a very fascinating study. Why would they use that actress? Why would they mention that perk? Why would they use that wording? Nothing specific comes to mind but it keeps me thinking. Everything keeps me thinking here. It's all so new and so much to absorb. I wonder how I will ever remember any of it. Don't take familiar surroundings for granted. It's a nice thing to know what is around you. You are able to notice something that changes or something that is off. I don't have that here.

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For those of you who don't check the weather, we have some weird artic norther thing happening in NYC. It is 19 degrees Fahrenheit here. 19. The low is 11. No snow, and if you don't stand too close to the window you could guess it's maybe 60 degrees and sunny. It's beautiful. But very very very cold for this Texan!

That's all the updates I have for now! I have a phone interview coming up here in the next few days for a job at a little retail shop. Nothing fancy but it would pay the bills for now. So keep those prayers going up and I will write again soon.

Thanks, you guys, for reading!! I never thought so many people would care about my life like this and it feels great :) Happy Thursday!

The American Quilt

Let me tell you about Kathy.

A couple of days ago, I found this tiny little grocery that actually has fresh veggies such as lettuce, tomatoes, garlic, onion, broccoli, milk, eggs, even frozen dinners. I don't often find such variety here. Now in my experience (all one week of it), the majority of grocery owners are immigrants who may or may not speak great English. Fully expecting this to be the case, I did not expect much from my Asian lady grocer.

I went to the grocery store today and I asked a question. The asian woman, whose name I now know to be Kathy, answers me with flawless English in a brilliant Staten Island accent. We had the nicest conversation. She warned me about where the thugs like to mug people, even told me where to meet the most ethical single guys! (I don't actually remember where she said but I will definitely ask again for those who are curious!) Probably the nicest and most helpful person I have met in Staten Island so far. Unbelievable! How dare I, with my college education and somewhat progressive political views, expect anything from this woman BUT that she is American??

Immediately prior to going to the grocery store, I stopped in the pharmacy on the corner. As I was waiting in line, I noticed that the man directly behind the counter was middle eastern (dark complected, thick accent. Possibly Arabic?) The man behind him was hispanic. The customer at the counter was a black man who had run into what I assume to be his friend: a very old Asian man. There were laughing and ribbing each other in the humorous way old men do. And there was a white boy about my age sitting in a chair, waiting on his prescription. In one six-square-foot area, each of the major racial and gender divisions was represented. It was a very cool moment in which I truly felt the quilted nature of American society.

In church on Sunday, I noticed a multitude of people who are not in my socioeconomic grouping. I had no idea I'd been living in such a predominantly white society. I was shocked by the number of black people in a Church of Christ. I was taken aback by the not one, but TWO women who were passing communion trays. I was incredulous observing a blind woman with a three-year-old seeing daughter who knew to take her mother's hand and place it on the stairwell railing. There was even a young boy, about eight years old, who didn't have his left arm below the elbow.

Shame on me.

There is no reason not to expect these things. Not after the efforts of the women at the turn of the century to gain the right to vote. Not after the efforts of Martin Luther King, Jr. and his followers to gain racial equality. Not after my personal voyages to Israel, Ukraine, Amsterdam, where I saw so much injustice and inequality, so much poverty and prejudice. How dare I expect the world to be homogenous. This is a new century. This is a new culture.

I was humbled today in the most important way possible. Not every is like me. Not everyone has had my blessings. Not everyone has had my curses. The thing about it is, this would not be America without our differences. This would not be America without our opportunities. But this is America. We have curses, differences, blessings, and opportunities. Why would we ever expect anything less?

Learning the Trains

Today, I was awesome.  I boarded the 9am ferry not knowing what exactly my plan for the train ride was. I needed to take the 5 train to Grand Central then transfer to the 6. I, having no knowledge of trains or how they work, had no idea why I had to switch trains when both trains followed the green line. So for all the other train-dummies out there, here's what you need to know: There is an express train that will follow the same path as the local train but stops less frequently. IF your stop falls in between two express stops, you must then transfer to the local train which will take you within a block or two of where you need to be. ALSO, if there are changes in the trains that are running or in the times they run, you should probably find these out ahead of time. I did not notice the signs that said "Scheduled change: The 5 train no longer runs on weekends. Take the 4 train to Grand Central." until after I had already missed the 4 train. Ugh. So I waited another fifteen minutes and boarded the 4, took it to Grand Central and followed the signs.... kind of.

The signs in the subway are color coded based on the train routes, pretty self explanatory, except sometimes they say Exit and some other train line. This does not mean exit and then board another train. Sometimes you have to go up a flight of stairs, around the bend and down another flight to get to the platform where your train will pick you up. Someone really should tell New Yorkers that "Follow the signs" isn't actually the answer to "Where does [this train] go?" Or "how do I get to [this train]?" Because truthfully, there is about a quarter of a mile of platform for one train and some signs say, "Other end of the plat." This doesn't mean your train will pick you up at the other end of the plat. It means the stairs that take you to the correct platform are at the other end of the plat.

All this to say, I made it from the Staten Island ferry onto the 4 train, got off at Grand Central, boarded the 6 train and made it to church this morning. Then from church I took the 6 back toward Grand Central but got off at 59th, took a path to Lexington Ave where I got on the R train, got off at Times Square and got on the 1 train which spit me out at the exact intersection I needed to be at for my voice lesson! Then a short ride on the 1 train brought me right back to the Staten Island ferry. And this makes me awesome.

In other news, I had a voice lesson with Carla LeFevre today. I was definitely rusty but she was ever so nice and really worked with my muscle placement and whole vocal mechanism to get the most glorious sound out of my voice. It was a good first lesson and highlighted a few rough places I can easily work on before I have my first lesson with Mignon. I called Mignon and we are tentatively scheduled for a week from Tuesday at 3!!! So even though I don't have a job, I have a teacher whom I adore, a working knowledge of the train station, and a loving dog who goes berserk when I get home in the afternoon. Life is good. God is even better.

This Butterfly's Manifesto

So today was a true Saturday. I went to a house party in Harlem last night with a friend to blow off some steam. Had a great time and left around 1:30 thinking I could get to the 2:30 ferry in plenty of time. How very wrong I was. Not only do the train times change at night, they change even more drastically for the weekend! At first I was on the wrong train, got off at the wrong stop to catch the correct train, which wasn't actually running, then waited for what seemed like eternity for another train to show up, took that train as far south as I could, finally got off at 3am and took a cab to the ferry. I was so exhausted I couldn't think of anything else to do. Managed to get to the 3:30 ferry just as it was boarding and was home in bed by 4am.

Needless to say, I slept very late today. Got up and tried to do laundry but there are only two washing machines here. So I went to a new deli across the street, discovered sodas, hot sandwiches, canned foods, medicines, even warm hats and mittens in case I'm in a pinch! Love it. I am slowly learning my surroundings.

I also discovered online shopping yesterday. I bought sheets, dogfood, an air purifier and all of these things will be delivered to my doorstep. How convenient!

Since I slept my day away and have nothing really new to report, I figured I would explain why I chose to call this blog Butterfly Manifesto. I got a lot of great suggestions that I liked a lot. Unfortunately, finding a clever blog name that isn't taken already is really difficult! I originally had in mind to call it "Chasing Butterflies." The chase the elusive dream, to chase my full potential, to chase the feeling I get before I go on stage. but every form of that was taken.

I love the symbolism of the butterfly. They have frequently in many cultures been a symbol for the soul, for freedom, and for transformation. I did a little research and came across a really wonderful blurb about the butterfly as a symbol for the soul: "...our journey is our only guarantee. Our responsibility to make our way in faith, accept the change that comes, and emerge from our transitions as brilliantly as the butterfly."** It is frequently associated with Christ's triumph over death in His resurrection and I just love that through Him we have the opportunity to make such a great transformation with our own souls.

Butterflies have always held a certain inspiration for me. There was a time in my life where I became very lost from everything I believed about God, life, and myself. I was very down one day and thinking about everything I had been doing with my life: the choices made and actions taken, knowing they weren't what I had been taught. Suddenly a butterfly flew across my path. Somehow I knew it was meant for me. It was my sign from God that he was there, he was with me, and he knew I was going to be ok. Ever since then, when I see a butterfly, I remember that small epiphany I had. The butterfly became a symbol of God's love and plans for me, much like the rainbow for Noah.

The manifesto part is a little less poignant. Since this would be a written sentiment of my resolve to become a singer, my plight as a starving musician, the opinions I form, the values I adopt. It will all be written here and shared in order to gain support and maybe inspire someone who also wants to live their dream.

So here is this butterfly's manifesto: I am a child of the One True God. I was born to do great things. I was created to show godly love to everyone I come in contact with. I resolve that I will no longer fear. I will meet what God throws at me head on, take it in stride, and pass His tests with flying colors. I will paint my wings with those flying colors as a banner, a beacon to those who have yet to break their cocoon. I want to make a difference in the heart of just one person, who maybe didn't think she could or was afraid to try. My gifts will bring joy to others and my flight will pave the way.

The Difference Is

Day four of my new life here in New York City started off with a delivery of fresh groceries (did you know they deliver your groceries here?? Right to your front door!) and one very cold walk in little flurries of snow. I was finally able to sleep last night; after all of the excitement and stress of packing and moving, sleep was more elusive than the lochness monster. So I took today easy. Managed to find a tiny little cash only grocery store that has the bare minimum of ingredients: lettuce, carrots, ginger, mushrooms, flour, sugar, soda. I have applied for two receptionist jobs and four nanny jobs today. I have heard from one but the employer doesn't seem inclined to employ me.

 I still hear the ferry horn and I love it more each time.

Every time I take Daisy for a walk, I try to discover a new place. A new diner, the Subway with the nice man behind the counter, a man who will cut my hair for thrity-five dollars and give me the scoop on the new restaurants and shows in town, everything is so new and I am learning my surroundings bit by bit.

There are a lot of things I have had to learn in a very short time. How to read a map of the train. How to recognize the stop I'm looking for. How to figure out which way I'm walking. North or South? East or West? How to find items at their stores.

In New York, there is not an H-E-B or a Walmart that carries everything from shampoo to fresh produce to organizing solutions and household appliances. All of these things are in different stores in different places in the city. Not only do I need to plan my route to hit all the stores that are needed, I have to plan what I'm buying in terms of what I can carry for long distances and the bag I will carry these things in. The difference is: I can no longer go on a shopping spree and load up my car to drive it home. I have to be very selective in what I choose to spend money on and that has helped tremendously.

My adventure in the city consisted of a trip to Bed, Bath, and Beyond, the pet store, and my very first live comedy show (thanks to my new roommate, Nick! Great show, friend!). Bed Bath and Beyond is intimidating in Texas. It is overwhelming in New York. The difference is: Everything is so much more compact. It is sensory overload from the mounds and shelves of inventory to the multitude of accents chattering their way around the displays to the odd smells that accompany a move to a new city.

Petsmart and Petco are rare, they do not exist within the standard strip mall of Burlington, Office Depot, and Ross. So the pet store was independently owned and called something like, "The Pet Shop". The difference is: Everyone just finds a place for their store. Location is key so one jumps at the opportunity for a great location, regardless of space or ease of access.

I rode the Staten Island Ferry for the first time yesterday. It is a gorgeous and peaceful ride. Lady Liberty waves at me each time I pass her by. There is something comforting about the knowledge that she has waved to new comers and residents alike for the last one hundred nineteen years. So calm and stately, robed in that singularly identifiable shade of green, she stands much closer than pictures can capture and represents the new life that America offers to those who visit her. The difference is: I am already American. And yet, I am still beginning a new life, starting anew. The opportunities are limitless and I am the raw material for my own potential.

The Original Manifesto

Hey there! This is my first foray into the blogging universe so go with the flow and we'll figure it out together! The intention behind this blog is to document and share my journey from my hometown, Austin, TX to the great big city of New York and the transformation therein. I have no idea what God has in store for me but I know it's something big. He has shown me in a million ways that he is behind me one hundred percent and for that I am thankful every day!

Way back in July of 2011, I went to a program in Tel Aviv, Israel. There I met a great teacher who wanted me to come study with her in New York. That is where this dream took its first steps. I had new incentive to graduate college and did so within a year. I then moved home with my gracious mother, just waiting for the opportunity to move to New York City.

A good friend of mine had been living in the city for a couple of years and had a roommate who was planning to move out. When this roommate set a date to move out on December 21, 2012, I turned in my two weeks notice intending to spend Christmas with my family and fly out the first week in January. An hour after I quit my job, I got a text from this friend saying her roommate was no longer moving out but that I could stay on her couch while I found a place. Not exactly ideal but I kept the plans, since I had already quit my job. I sold my car the first week of January and bought a flight for January 15th. The dream was finally coming true!

The next week was filled with preparations and packing, crying and excitement! Everything I had wanted for years was finally happening! My sister and her husband drove up from San Antonio on Sunday, the 13th and helped get me ready to make the big move: everything packed in boxes ready to ship when I had a place, the boxes labeled with contents for easy searching and sending, suitcases packed and ready for flight. Monday was spent doing final laundry and packing and napping in order to be well rested and leave at 3am on Tuesday for my 6:25am flight. So began the worst day in the history of  days.

We left the house at 4am, loaded Daisy (my adorable dog; you will see plenty of pictures of her in New York) and my suitcases in the car. The airline had not opened for check-in by the time we got there, but thirty minutes later I managed to get Daisy checked in in her kennel and my suitcases (overweight and expensive) on the plane. Managed to switch planes in Atlanta with ease and only a small heart attack when the airline lost my dog in her kennel (finally found and put on board). When we arrived in New York, Daisy arrived just next to the baggage claim and a skycap helped me load everything I had with me on a cart. I received a text message at this time that my friend, whose apartment I'd been planing to stay at, had discovered an infestation of bed bugs.

She says to go ahead and come to her apartments so I do. Not only is the place barely big enough for three people, much less four people and a dog, everything they own is bagged up and stacked up in the living room bathroom and kitchen, and the exterminator has sprayed poison all over the floors and beds. Poor Daisy had pooped in her kennel by this point and we had nowhere to sleep that night. Things were looking pretty dire.

Now, I had been talking to a guy who I'd connected with through a subletter group on facebook. After cleaning Daisy and he kennel up and helping with what I could in the apartment, he and I met for coffee to discuss living together. We hit it off right away! He desperately needs a roommate, he is more than willing to live with Daisy, and the apartment is less than I originally budgeted for in rent!! He is also a God-fearing guy with lots of personality and and easy-going attitude. The problem was, since this guy had to work until 3am, Daisy and I had nowhere to stay that night. My friend took me to her guy friend's house where he fed us and I got in contact with a mutual friend whom I had never met. He agreed to let me sleep at his place. So I left the apartment where my good friend was staying, went to her place and took Daisy for a walk, packed an overnight bag and caught a taxi to Tribeca, where I stayed in the most gorgeous apartment I've ever been to with one of the nicest people I've ever met. I had a place to sleep.

He was my angel that night. He left early for work and I returned to the apartment, packed up my bags and loaded Daisy in the kennel one more time to move to an apartment on Staten Island site unseen. I'd seen pictures but honestly, I could not have hoped for a better outcome. My new roommate is clean and neat and funny. The apartment is old but charming and full of character. My room and bed are small, but the living room is extremely spacious. Exposed brick in half the living area in addition to high ceilings and white plaster walls give the apartment a light airy feeling with the comfort of an old building that has known a great many inhabitants.

So after probably the most ungraceful entrance into the city I could imagine, I have a wonderful apartment in a quaint little neighborhood in St. George, with a diner across the street and everything I need within walking distance. I can hear the ferry boats toot their horns and the church bells boldly announce the time. It is cold here but not unbearable and there are people all around. No leads on the job front, but God provided so brilliantly on the apartment front, I have no doubt he will help me find the job that will pay the bills. That's all I have to write for now but let's see what tomorow holds!