free.

The winter of my Sophomore year of college was one of the not-best. For some reason I began to get sad, after being quite happy for a good bit of time. I have looked back and tried to reason through it, catalogue it, identify the turning point. Conclusively, I cannot. I remember things changing a bit in November. I remember the things that had been coming easy began to get a little harder. Christmas turned out to be less break-like and more sad-like. The only things I remember enjoying from that little stint were the multiple Harry Potter books I raced through in a matter of days, and the book "Girl Meets God", by Lauren Winner. I had seen the book at Barnes and Noble with my mom earlier in the year. I pointed it out to her, read her the synopsis as if she cared, and carefully placed it back between the other g's on the shelf. I was in the poor college student phase (as opposed to the poor post-college student I am now...Different post) and the book was $26. 

Opening presents that year, I realized that my mom is a surprising lady. She was listening to me, she remembered, and bought and wrapped it for me to open Christmas morning, months later. I remember sleeping in my brother's room over break. His room is really small. It's quite closet like, actually. I converted his tiny room into my own personal cave. Had I woken any particular morning to the sight of a bat resting on my pillow, I would not have been alarmed. It's likely that I would have rather greeted the marvelous creature with a pleasant sounding "good morning bat".  I left that cave to retrieve food, sometimes. I think I managed to get my expanding ass out once to run. But mostly I just stayed in my cave bed, and read. "Girl Meets God" was revolutionary for me, and I think Lauren Winner's words helped me from diving into complete hibernation. It was the book that birthed my open mind. Her writing was so honest and raw, and her perspective and experience with God so real. She talked of church as a greater body, as opposed to a congregation that met in a building, and she said shit. The book had a big impact on the person that I am still becoming. 

Sitting in front of a computer my senior year of college, scrolling through the lists of chapels for the semester, I almost fell from my chair when I read what it was I had read. Lauren Winner, the same one I had read in the cave, and reread in the years since, the same one that had shared so much of her story with me as if I was trustworthy, was going to be visiting campus, and speaking at one of our chapel services. Oh my. This, to me, was bigger than meeting a celebrity. This person was a real person that had had a tangible and chartable impact on my life. 

My friend Amy was on the newspaper staff that year, and had the privilege of interviewing Miss Winner for an article. She said I could come. I even remember what I was wearing. I went, and I was awed. She was normal, personable, confident, and she wore skirts and didn't shave her legs! And also, she was kind. She could probably tell my insecurity was insurmountable. I soaked in every wise word she spoke. I read all of the fliers, and showed up at all of her talks. I asked her how I am supposed to figure out what to do with my life. She said I could stay with her anytime I was in the area. I felt like her campus stalker. She was patient, and managed to keep me from feeling like the creeper I probably appeared to be. 

There is this musician that plays amazing music here in the city where I live. I hadn't ever heard her music before seeing her live. This usually means I am less likely to love what I am about to hear. She defied that logic. I was hooked. She is a performer. Each time I see her, I am flooded with the thought that she will eventually explode, both in the on-stage sense and the famous sense. It will be one of those stories that I will share with whomever I am speaking: "I used to listen to her in a hole in the wall dive when her shows were free!"

And tonight, while sitting outside the free venue waiting for the music to begin, my mind went back to that interview with Lauren, the one where I was allowed to sit in. But in my head, Amy was interviewing Fiawna. I don't know this woman personally. I have heard kind things about her from people that do. But there is something about her music and the way she performs it that exudes the confidence that I believe all of us women hope for, the same kind confidence that Lauren had. It's something that I am inclined to follow. 

Since devouring all of Lauren's writings since that first book, and driving to listen to Fiawna anytime I know she is playing, I am most thankful when talented confident women share a part of themselves with people they don't know. It's a reminder to step out of your cave, whatever your cave may be.