a collection of thoughts

Just this and that.

"My heart is a traitor," the boy said to the alchemist, when they had paused to rest the horses. "It doesn’t want me to go on."

"That makes sense," the alchemist answered. "Naturally it’s afraid that, in pursuing your dreams, you might lose everything you’ve won."


"Even though I complain sometimes," it said, "it’s because I’m the heart of a person, and people’s hearts are that way. Please are afraid to pursue their most important dreams, because they feel that they don’t deserve them, or that they’ll be unable to achieve them…"

"My heart is afraid that it will have to suffer," the boy told the alchemist one night as they looked up at the moonless sky.

"Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second’s encounter with God."

-The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

(Source: minimiam.com, via 10knotes)


"What am I doing wrong?"

Is always the first question I think of, especially when things don’t seem to be well. Plus that and when I read a passage and think, “yes, Lord is good and he provides. Yet I must be doing something wrong to be not in his favor.” Or something like that.

This indeed is wrong. I know this. At least in my head.

So, what am I to do? (This too, ironically, is the second question I ask after I ask the first question of what am I doing wrong.)

On Tamales

When I see tamales on a menu, I am filled to the brim with hope and excitement.  Maybe it’s because the whole cooked-in-leaf-wrappers idea is really appealing to me, or because I like Mexican food, or because it triggers a very fond memory of a trip I took to Mexico many years ago where a sweet old lady gave us a bag full of fresh tamales as a way of saying thanks for cleaning up her village. 

Today was one of those days.  The day was cold and grey, and I shuffled into a hispter taco restaurant for lunch.  I’ve had their tacos before and they were yum, yum, AND yum! Fried avocados, shredded pork, I was positive this place could do no wrong. So when I saw that it was Tamale Wednesday, I was sold.  (People in front of me were very encouraging too.) 

This is me post-lunch, and I gotta say, I was not blown away.  And this has been my reaction to all tamales ever since my first experience with them in Mexico many summers ago.  My oh-so-frequent tamale experiences in the U.S. total to about a whooping three times, so I don’t want to be hasty in saying that I don’t like tamales. However, I’m beginning to have this nasty feeling that my so-called love and appreciation for tamales is in fact, fictional. 

Not sure where I’m going with this, but I would like to add that I really do want to like tamales. Rather, I want to love tamales. Just haven’t found THE one yet, I guess. 


"I’m trying to figure out what my dreams are."


"I’m trying to figure out what my dreams are."

Accountability through Tumblr?

One of my goals for 2014 is to read more often.  It’s nearing the end of January 2014, and I can confidently say that I have not opened a single book to read since the new year.  


I quite literally have a stack of unread/unfinished books by my bed, but I realized today that I haven’t done an inventory of which books I haven’t read yet.  Therefore, I decided to list them on Tumblr for social accountability(?) and for kicks and giggles.  Here it goes:

Behind the Beautiful Forevers
Cradle to Cradle
Dreaming with God
The Alchemist 
(just ordered it this past weekend—probably should have waited…)
Desiring God
The Screwtape Letters
Bossypants (from the library) 
Me Talk Pretty One Day (a friend lent it to me, but I think I’m going to just return to him)

And here are the books on my wish list: 

What We Know About Climate Change
Anything by Jared Diamond
David and Goliath (and others by Malcolm Gladwell)

That’s all I can think of right now, but there’s no guarantee that I won’t find more books under my bed once I get home. (Double negatives much, Angela?) Wish me luck!


by becca stadtlander