Last night I found myself telling my brother that Twenty Pieces, in my life, has been like the eye of a hurricane. I know this sounds pretty dramatic, but let me explain.

I have told you about the swirling realities of my life. Let me state them all in one place.  In the last year, I have lived significantly underemployed (sometimes), have been in the process of starting a company with a friend that is set to launch very soon, have financially survived through the sale of my art work, have have the privilege of being a part of the staff of the Institute for Spiritual Formation in several different capacities, have done consulting work for churches and non-profits, and I leave for Canada tomorrow to do some similar things in a far more corporate environment (which is a new and very exciting experience for me).  I also journey with several individuals as their spiritual director, a person who is a witness to their life and helps them discern God’s voice.

I have met amazing people in the last year: artists, producers, business people, fashion designers, fashion photographers, philanthropists, philosophers, and all kinds of quirky smart interesting people.  I have spoken to gatherings of MOPS (Mothers of Pre-Schoolers), curated the closets of some amazing women, and enjoyed meeting countless others that simply can’t be put into categories.

I started writing this piece with the title, “The Center of the Chaos,” but as I write, I realize it is not so much chaos that I am living in but an intensity of uncomfortable newness.  I wrote a while back an article called “Everything is Beautiful and New.”  Today, it feels more true to say, “everything is scary and new.”

In contrast, I am comforted in the repetition of my wardrobe.  Recently, as several items have been on the brink of death, as I have mentioned, I am mildly overwhelmed by the prospects of making new decisions and expending the resources to make them.  Nevertheless, I must make them.  I leave for Canada tomorrow and it is time for the shorts with the bleach stain on them to go and be replaces with a sweater.  Just let it go.  January first comes soon.  Then the Twenty Pieces commitment will have been fulfilled and I can buy a new pair of shorts when it gets warmer.

These are the kinds of things I think.  Having the faith that I will indeed be able to afford a new pair of short in January should I need them feels like a big risk.  If Twenty Pieces was about discipline and simplicity in the beginning, now it is about risk.

I will surely let you know what happens.