ON this very moment.

I think it's sort of hilarious that I sneak over to this blog to write things down that are sitting in my heart. I understand branding and the business of being a business just a little too well and so I never want to cross those lines on the mustard seed co blog. I like to keep that shiny and polished and brand-centric (you know, that is, when I actually write over there).

But this little space is so safe. Anyone who still reads it knows that I pour out my heart here, that I'm honest almost to a fault. And may I also say I think it's hilarious how many readers I still have? I can see those stats, you guys, and it blows my mind that people continue to come here to read. Thus furthering my point about authenticity - when we just are who we are, people want more. When we present something that makes sense and flows really well and we look great on, it can be give or take. I've always thought that this blog would be the one to "take off", if you will, if I ever actually was consistent. Because being our true selves is, like, the freaking jam. It's where success lives. (Hey can someone remind me of this sometime? When I'm forgetting it? Great, thanks in advance.)

Every time I get back to my apartment from being home in NJ, I have to take a couple of days to shake back into my routine and life here. And every time I get back, I try to remind myself to be gentle with the transition. "Try" being the keyword. Coming back to the city means being slammed with the reminders that I have no idea where I will be living in a couple of months, and I mean that in regards to city, state, and apartment, including my current one. I'm slammed with the reminder of what I want and how far I often feel I'm from it (and how close). I'm slammed with the reminder of the people and animals who need help, who need others, with so many sitting on the ground around me. I'm slammed directly in all of my senses with all of the awesome and scary and loud and exciting things that make New York City what it is. I'm hit dead on with where I want to be, where I am, what I'm working toward, what I'm running from. And, of course, I'm kicked in the gut and in my heart with the missing human in my life. Still. Daily. Every blessed moment.

Re-reading all of that now it's easy for me to think "well of course all of that at once can make a girl a little wonky for a day or two". But in the moments of living it, I just want to be past it. I want to know the future, I want a clear freaking answer on if I should move and if that's down the street or across the country. I want guidance and a big giant sign that says I'll be fine financially, emotionally, physically, and in so many other ways.

But that giant sign is faith, right? That's what we do, right? We keep taking these steps forward despite the fact that we are wobbling around in darkness, completely unsure of what's in front of us, with feet and legs that can't seem to remember how to move, and a pounding heart. We keep going. And the difference here is that many just stop. They feel the power of fear and they just stop. Even if they are urged to move for the rest of their life, they won't. They stay frozen and cave to fear. But we get to choose faith. We get to say that it is bigger than that paralyzing fear. And so there I am again, on my knees, face pointed upward, sobbing and talking and asking and praying and wanting and trusting.

And while it doesn't sound so fun, or feel so good in the moment, it is the only thing keeping me moving forward. And that is some powerful shit. The days I cross my arms and stomp my feet and say no to God and no to praying and no to trusting are so much worse than any handful of minutes spent crying on my floor. The times I spend thrusting a hand over my eyes and refusing to look at God and demanding that I know best are so much freaking worse than the terrifying moments of taking a tiny step forward when I feel God call me to move. It is so much worse when I pretend that I'm in charge. I'm not in charge, and neither are you. It's all Him. I grant that this sounds insane and ridiculous and terrifying but damn if it isn't true. It's insane how insane it is, because it is TRUE. And terrifying. And glorious.

The other day, I was walking behind a family in central park. People not from New York tend to walk in a straight line so they can, like, actually see and hear each other (what is that about?) and so I literally was forced to walk behind them as I caught my breath from the run I'd just had. In between my wheezing, I heard one of them say something about how he didn't understand why people run. Another cracked a joke about New Yorkers needing to run so they can run away from their crazy lives. And I thought to myself how that's not it at all. How it's the opposite. That we are running, full steam ahead, with everything we've got, toward our lives. We are the brave ones running head on toward it. We are running toward the amazing things that are on their way. We are running with each tiny, terrifying step.

I don't have any answers still. I'm like a one-woman detective team with my quest for "signs" - a certain song will play and I'm convinced it means to move somewhere, I'll see a certain word and I'm convinced it means to make that call, and so on. I honestly have no idea what's coming next and God is drilling that so hard into my brain you'd think I would freaking accept it by now. Sometimes I think He's like "hey Kerry, I'm running out of ideas here on how to get you to see that you cannot control your life or know what's happening next. Can you do me a solid and just surrender to it? Cool, thanks!" But even with absolutely no answers, and even with all this pain and fear and wondering and growth, I have this faith. And He calls me to take a step. And to take another. And if I'm lucky, I do it. Slowly, steadily. Step.

And step. And step. And step. And step.

on MESSAGES

**I wrote this awhile ago and promptly forgot to post it. Upon finding it, it still feels worthy of sharing. Add on a few weeks when you see the number 3. Add on a few things to my lists. Make them real good in your head, I won't ask.**

We were early on in our walk when Henry froze up. All it takes is a loud truck or a lot of people to stop him in his tracks. I knelt down and he ran directly into my arms, paws using my knee like a launch pad. I pressed my mouth next to his ear and quietly said, "You're safe, I'm right here. I got you, kid."

I looked up and realized I was directly under a large church. The message was not missed.
__

In the last 3 weeks, I have changed my hair color and started to grow out my bangs.
I've begun guitar lessons and begun conversations with musicians and producers.
I've started to work with a doggy behaviorist, finding myself carrying meatballs on each walk.
I've taken on a handful of new clients, more than I expected for the shortest month of the year.
I've gone out with other boys, seen best friends, had visits from people who live across the country.
I've seen three Broadway shows, one reading, and one where men made for gorgeous women.
I've taken myself to the MoMA, to the park, to Lincoln Center, out to eat, to get my nails done.
I've been in auditions, callbacks, on-screen with producers in other states, and recorded endless copy.
I've re-arranged my room, changed out the furniture, planted a vision board next to my bed.
I've purged items and papers and junk and clothing and books, donating to people and garbage cans.
I've had endless dreams where I am going up and down stairs, all types, in all places, always stairs.
__

We were still sitting on the fountain, my favorite place of all, in one of our Conversations. We must have been nearing an hour by then, the summer heat cooling down as evening was settling in. He was continuing on when he said something that struck me:

"I want to know where God is in our relationship."

It quickly became the second best thing he's ever said to me. The first, I realized, had been about God, too.
__

I was antsy tonight. Checking my phone every few seconds. Instagram, texts, facebook, emails, on repeat. I started to work and stopped a million times. I put on a new episode of pretty little liars, my favorite, but my eyes darted around, hands grabbing for the phone again, feet restless. I was mad at God and ignoring the calming voice telling me to pray, to talk it out. I kept picking up my phone instead, clicking back to facebook, when I heard it:

"What are you looking for? You won't find it there. Pray."

This time it didn't feel like a suggestion.
__

In the last 3 weeks, I've looked up apartments in other cities, way too many flights.
I've been given multiple gifts, from people I expected them from and people I do not even know.
I've been to church every Sunday at 12:30, usually running late because of course I am.
I've drunk dialed the safest people I could, the ones across the country, too far to meet up.
I've remembered why I hate drinking and don't do it.
I started on a young artists board with an incredible group of other artists, makers, creatives, thinkers.
I've soulcycled my little heart out, hitting each beat beat beat beat, singing along.
I've reached out to new voice teachers, joined a group to read plays just for the sake of reading them.
I've re-designed my website, re-designed my resume, submitted to endless casting breakdowns.
I've finally finalized plans for my business website and logo with my designer.
I've had amazing opportunities, exciting things that made me jump around with delight.
I've fielded questions about you in a way that has taught me the definition of grace.
I have been busy.
__

I know without a doubt that we are put into situations and frustrations and challenges to learn lessons and grow as humans. I also know none of us have any damn idea what is going to happen next in our lives, despite our desperate and strong beliefs that we definitely-absolutely-totally are planned and ready.

When I talk about following my gut and what I'm called to do, people are excited and on board. When I talk about God, sometimes some of those people are not so sure anymore. To me, it is the same thing. A voice, a calling, guiding me. When I hear "myself" I believe I'm hearing God's will. When I refer to my truth, it's God's truth, too.

For years, I have had this boy on a pedestal but God was not on one. Over the past year, it's started to shift. The pedestal was gone, choosing to stand eye to eye instead, a better view for both of us. I started to talk to God again, started to turn to passages from the bible, started to go back to church and started to really like it. I mean, I named my business after a passage that I love, that I felt called to use. I picked my designer based on a gut instinct that God wanted me to work with her. My life has actually gotten monumentally better in the past year and even better with each step closer back to God. Like, shockingly, surprisingly, mind blowingly better. But still, this boy, my whole heart, my eyes just as wide for him as they are for God. No, even wider. So it's really no wonder to me that I've been flipped up and over and shaken and set back down on the ground without my best friend next to me. It's no wonder that I'm being called back to God even louder now. It's no wonder that I'm being literally forced to replace my fear with my faith. It's also no wonder that I have peace in my heart despite the unknowns and worries coursing through my veins, through my mind. It's no wonder that I am still filled with pure love for him, despite confusion and pain.

And in these past 3-ish weeks, despite the endless list of what I have done, what I had not done yet was hand it on over to God. So tonight I did just that. Take it, lead me, bring me closer to you. Bring him closer to you. If you want us back together, let it be when we're both back with you. Give him the grace he needs to do the work he wants to do in his heart and on his life. Work in him. Work in me. Let him seek out God, that's where he can find me.

We all love a good happy ending. We all nod in agreement as we listen to people talk about how they just needed a month or two apart or a year or two apart in order to realize they didn't want to be apart. We chime in about how important it is to take the time to work on ourselves before being with our partners. But what about while that part is happening? What about the part where we're uncertain, fumbling around like baby deer, just trying to get our footing underneath? What about the middle section of discovering and questioning? The part where the lesson hasn't yet been made fully clear because we're still literally in it? What about the part where we're wildly uncomfortable?
__

I had caved and been talking out loud for a few minutes when Layla started to fuss, moving from my pillow down to the mattress, laying one way before flipping around to the other and kicking her feet into me. I leaned down to her and smoothed her fur, calming her down. "Can't get comfortable, huh? It's okay, I'm right here, you're okay. Shh, you're okay, you're okay."

The message was not missed.

ON being called

{unedited image by phillip spaeth}

Friends. I'm coming at you with a question today.

Do you believe in 'callings'?

That inner truth that guides us to a certain lifestyle, career, person or place?

Or, for you, is it more that your choices guide you? And the meaning follows?

Personally, I feel called.

There is very little other explanation for knowing what I am meant to do,

for knowing where I am meant to be, for knowing who I am meant to be with.

Especially since I've felt called to my career since I was really young, too young to 'choose' it.

I've also always felt called to be near the beach, called to be with/care for animals,

called to music, and called to certain people in my life. (I mean, who meets their best friend at two?)

For me, there is this gut reaction, or steady urging, toward something, someone, or somewhere.

The decision to come to LA was motivated by a steady voice telling me

"go to LA, go to LA, go to LA.." over and over, louder and louder until it was unable to be ignored.

It became almost plaguing. Haunting. Or like the chorus of a song you just can't stop singing.

But then, I was on the phone, my favorite voice coming through the other end. And he disagreed.

He said he feels like there are no real callings, just meaning we assign things.

For example, in hindsight, we all have great understanding and clarity (if we're lucky).

Such as "see, that's why I took that random class! to meet my new boyfriend!"

or, "oh, the reason I quit that band was so I could realize my true passion for cooking."

And so, regardless if we choose A or B, we are still choosing the path that is right.

I feel him on this. Everything is a lesson, everything is a blessing, there is no "wrong" choice.

But.. I do still feel called. So I guess I'm a mix of being called and assigning meaning,

while trusting that I'm being guided and am therefore unable to be anywhere except where I'm meant.

It's tricky. I feel so lucky to be called to a certain profession.

Yet sometimes I wonder if I'm still pursuing it because I always have been.

If being uncomfortable is my comfortable, if being unstable is actually my stable.

Or, if perhaps I am just truly made this way and am correct for following this path.

And, for me at least, unless we follow these callings, what do we have to guide us?

Isn't that our inner compass? Our gut, our callings, leading us down our twisting paths?

Today in church, the priest talked about being brave enough to just listen to God and trust that he knows. To listen and hear and then do what he says. And it felt so appropriate to hear after thinking so hard on all of this for the past few days. Because it's easy for me to want it all right now, to become impatient with the journey and want the outcome already. It's hard to not fear the unknown, to be okay with accepting that we don't know how our dreams will come true, and settle in the comfort of just trusting they will. Fear can sneak up on ya, catch you off guard. But then, this homily: "When is the last time you just listened and did what he said?"

This is what I mean by calling. When is the last time we all just listened - to ourselves, to God, to the universe, to that inner compass - and did what was said? Without a guaranteed outcome?

Without a magic eight ball or fortune-teller telling us how it will all look in the end?

I get so caught up in trying to plan and control my future, that I forget to let go and trust.

So I'm going to keep working on that.

It's weird - most of my biggest blessings often times feel like curses.

But, if I'm being truthful, I do feel lucky to have this voice, this guidance.

I feel lucky to have this inner radar that goes off when I feel "home", or where I belong.

It lights up when I'm on set, making me feel on fire. I'm home.

It lights up when I'm with dogs, making me feel full of joy. I'm home.

It lights up when I'm with him, making me feel full of love. I'm home.

I still don't have an answer for anyone about LA vs NY, except that no answer is the answer.

I can't tell you what's next or where I belong, because my heart always tells me once I'm there.

And for right now, that has to be enough.

"Take the first step in faith. You don't have to see the whole staircase,

just take the first step." - Martin Luther King, Jr.

Now, talk to me: do you believe in callings? What is/are yours?

Do you believe we're guided on destined paths or that we assign meaning post-choices?

Do you find yourself able to listen to your voice/higher power/gut/heart?

What do you do when you can't listen or feel uncertain about the future?

Do share, do share. Deep thoughts for a Monday, right? ;) xo