The World in Tones of Sepia

Life is moving at a rate so fast that I am struggling to keep up, to hold on to the moment at hand.

I know I am blessed to have so many exiting things going on, so many celebratory events to enjoy. Think: a brand new nephew, celebrating two graduations (yay Mike and Abbie!!!), bridal showers, wedding planning galore, and, to top it all off, a move to my first home. But it’s hard to soak it all in, to really be present and appreciating the world around me.

Yesterday, my mom, Brian and I went to the Crescent to taste the menu for the reception and, as I sat there, I couldn’t help but think of how quickly my wedding is approaching and how quickly it will be gone. I started thinking about pictures I’ve seen of my parents wedding, and how I always envision their wedding day in sepia, as the color in the pictures has faded through the years.  After all, exactly one week before I walk down the aisle, they will celebrate 28 years of wedded bliss. And though I have not asked them, I can almost guarantee they would tell me those years have flown by, that their wedding was really not so long ago at all.

But the pictures tell a different story. The pictures are a testament to a different time. Of course the styles and hair do’s are an obvious sign of the era, but the fading of the pictures themselves, the yellowing around the edges, the fragility that has come with age has physically marked the time weathered.

Yes, to me, my parents’ wedding pictures and memories are in a world of sepia tones, a different time; elegant and beautiful and in a world entirely removed from my own. And I am sure to my children someday, my wedding pictures and memories too, will be aged and weathered. I will look back at all the vibrant reminiscences in full color, but they will see a faded celebration of a day long ago.

It is hard to seize the moment and stop to enjoy each day, but I think it is imperative. I want to experience the vibrancy of this time, so when my kids are asking about my life, years from now, I will be able to paint the memories for them from an elegant and antiqued sepia, to an animated array of colors.

Writing God out of My Story

I love to write. This is probably an obvious fact to most, considering I have a blog, multiple journals, and a “Word of the Day” app on my iPhone.  I never claim to be an exemplary writer, but the art of expressing myself on paper is a passion of mine; one that I love developing.


Therefore, it should come of no surprise that I view my life as a story unfolding. There are chapters, characters, and plot lines (think: ‘The Adventures of Learning to Drive’, or ‘How to Cram for Finals 101’, or even ‘Welcome to the Real World’ and ‘Kissing Childhood Goodbye’). The older I get, the more clear my retrospect concerning past chapters becomes, and conversely, the more exciting yet complicated future chapters seem.


There have been many chapters that have come and gone, and likewise, people and relationships. I look back on some of the friends I had through school, who have been all but completely written out of my story now (largely due to the many moves my family made as I grew up). I reflect on some of the issues I have struggled with that now seem just like mere bumps in the road. I think about some of the passions I have developed; the ones I have maintained versus the ones I have abandoned over the years.


In the midst of all the change, there have been some constants.
My family, first and foremost. No matter what happens, or where life takes me, I have them.
My fiancé, who has become my rock, and soon- to- be partner for life.
My restlessness. By nature, I am an active person, but also a restless one, continually looking for the next challenge or inspiration.
And, most importantly, my faith.                                                       


Throughout the years I have developed a relationship with God and so often turn to Him…in times of need. But I am also the first to write Him out of my story when things are going well. When I am happy, feel purpose and drive in my job and daily activities, and fulfilled in my close relationships, God tends to be placed in my reservoir of “I’ll-get-to-that-later” passions. However, like many aspects of life, He is anything but convenient, and should not be treated as such.


I have learned that when things are best, I need Him most. When I rely solely on myself, is when I find myself in the most trouble, the most vulnerable. As a writer, I have recorded much of my life, which makes it very tangible to look back on.  And I have noticed patterns throughout my life, one of the biggest being my response to adversity. I do turn to God during hard times, and I have noticed that that is when I grow the most. I develop endurance and perseverance, and my faith strengthens.


This being said, I do not wish the hard times upon myself (and I also recognize what a tremendously blessed life I have led, and how protected from pain I have been), but I do desire for myself a steady faith, a constant theme throughout my life of God being the Author, rather than myself.


Because, in the end, even if I write Him off, He will never do the same to me.

Enjoy the Ride

I HATE turbulence on a plane. I hate that feeling of terror when the plane bumps and pops in the air and I grip the seat hoping that it does not plummet to the ground. Irrational fear? Absolutely. Inconsolable? Almost always.


This is the dichotomy of my life. I love to travel, but hate to fly. There is no where I wouldn't go AT LEAST once (and yes, Mike, that includes Vietnam after your raves about it), and there is no country or continent I wouldn't want to visit...with the exception of Antarctica...unless I had a big coat.


But how I am supposed to get anywhere with my paralyzing fear? Brian and I flew to Michigan this weekend for a great time with his parents, family and friends, but getting there and back was another story. I didn't use to fear flying as I do now, and have begun to recognize it as a fear of not being in control. Someone else has control over my fate for those captive hours while we are en route and I have started to think of all the worst possibilities. Which is a bold thought process for reasons twofold. First, who am I to deem who is and who is not capable of flying me safely from DFW to DTW? Secondly, what kind of life is it to have to be in control of every little aspect? Every minute detail? To not trust anyone else with your well-being, ever.


Now, I realize my safety is not a minute detail, but I also realize that this trained, experienced professional, is thinking about my safety the entire time; from take off to touch down. I need to let it go. I refuse to have this nonsensical apprehension take away my ability to do what I love and go to new, exciting places.  I need to learn to enjoy the ride, both figuratively and literally. I can not control everything, and that should be viewed as a blessing not a curse. With the unknown, comes wonderful surprises, unexpected experiences, and unforgettable memories.


There will always be something, a fear or trepidation to replace this one, but to let it immobilize me is to let it take charge. I do not want my life defined by what I was afraid of, but rather what I faced and the fears I overcame. And considering the amount of traveling I have on my bucket list, I have a lot of time to overcome my fear of flying.


Bring it on.

Watch out World...

Here comes another Mahoney! Pierce James was born on May 7^th to Dan and Tylie and we are all already in l.o.v.e.


It is so fun to have my sweet niece, Saffryn, and now a nephew too! I have loved seeing Saffryn experience so many milestones…from crawling and babbling to running (she skipped the walking stage entirely, it seems) and talking. She has been such a source of joy for us all! And now I am so excited to see Pierce go through the same stages. I have a feeling; however, he will put his own spin them, and probably end up very different from his big sis. I am so excited to get to know him, as I have with Saffryn, and to see how his personality, tastes, and interests develop.

Congratulations D & T, on the newest member of your amazing family, I am so happy for y'all!!! Oh, and always remember...I am a very willing babysitter! :)

The Dichotomy that is D

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I love my adopted hometown.

I love the weather, the size, the location (sans the fact the beach is so far away), and the people...for the most part. Dallas is a dynamic and eclectic city where you can find Southern comfort combined with big city charm.

Dallas prides itself on being apart of Texas, yet shies away the cowboy connotation. To the West is Dallas' "little brother" Fort Worth, and Dallasites yield to these kind folk on all things country. To the South is Austin, Dallas' hippie neighbor (Dallasites tend to avoid comparison to them), and even further South is San Antonio, where Texas and Mexico really combine in to one culture (Alamo, anyone?). And finally, to the Southeast is Houston. "Dirty" Houston...though many Dallasites envy the wealth and success that comes from this city.

Dallas likes to be considered in a league unto itself. When you think Texas, you think Dallas, after all. The Dallas Cowboys and Jerry Jones tend to garner much national attention (good and bad). Dallas is the site (obviously) of the old TV show "Dallas". Dallas is where President Kennedy was shot and where the SMU Mustang Football team got the Death Penalty in the '80's.

Dallas offers shopping, nearly to the level of a Chicago or even New York. You could spend hours, or even days wandering around Northpark Mall or all of the shopping centers around town. Every high fashion designer has staked a claim on real estate in this city, and Dallas, in turn, provides the clientele for such places...in abundance.

Dallas offers food. Ah, yes, my favorite topic. Dallas has a tremendous amount of restaurants  per capita...and delicious ones at that. Of course you can get Mexican, and Tex-Mex (yes, they are different things), but there are equally delicious Italian eateries or Asian-infused cafes around town and, my personal favorite, steakhouses. If ever you make a trip to Dallas, please let me know what you are craving, because trust me, I've tried it, and I'll let you know where to find it.

The Katy Trail is one of Dallas' proudest achievements. It is a trail, just shy of four miles one way, that extends from the Highland Park neighborhood (right by SMU), all the way to the American Airlines Center (where the Mavs and Stars play). It is for running, biking, walking dogs and, my personal favorite, people watching. You see, Dallas is nothing without its people.

The Dallas natives can be spotted a mile away, no matter where you are (the trail, the grocery store, the pool, or the Winspear Opera House for a Black Tie affair) Dallasites are dressed to the nines. Dallas is a city built on perception, and a carefully crafted ideal of what one should be, look like, or do.

Now, before you get a bad taste about this city, the people are very friendly. There is not the facade of Southern charm and hospitality, it truly does exist. People are very willing to lend a hand, and it is quite easy to strike up a conversation with a stranger wherever you are.

The one thing that sets Dallas apart from its Texan neighbors is that Dallas is influenced from the outside, too. Where most cities in Texas are very content to be Texan, Dallas looks to New York for fashion, Chicago for finance, Atlanta for Southern-ness, and Los Angeles for its culture.

In the end, Dallas, like any other city you will find, has its good points and bad. For me, this city is perfect...for now...as it offers a great standard of living, the previously mentioned good weather, and most importantly, my wonderful friends. This city, the city of my alma mater, will always hold a special place in my heart. I have fantastic memories from college, from all the dates and adventures my fiance and I have been on, and from starting my career (not to mention, where I am getting married)...right here, in Dallas, Texas.

So y'all come check it out sometime!

Til Whatever Do Us Part

A while ago I read an article in Vogue or Elle or some such magazine (not exactly Gospel, but hey, it’s good J), but  the article was really relevant. It was called “Til Whatever do Us Part” and it was written by a woman who was exceptionally dedicated to making her marriage work.

The article talks about the vows she and her husband made on their wedding day, and how they truly meant them. They weren’t just words; they were an unbreakable promise between two people. She talks about how over the years they have fought, they’ve been through very hard times, and they have celebrated many, many things. And through it all, good times and bad, they had one another.

She closes with this thought that I will most likely remember forever. At the end of her life, she will look at her husband and know that he was a witness to her life; her struggles, her victories, her flaws and her attributes. He was there to walk life with her, and he knew her better than anyone else.

Yes, they had their romance; yes, they had their fights. But they were always partners, best friends, and companions.

I am reminded of this article today, as Brian has so eloquently told me that our marriage will be hard; we will struggle and we will fight. But it will be worth it. All great things in life are. And, when I am old and gray, and he is still sitting beside me holding my hand, I will be able to look at him and know that he knows me…even better than I know myself. That he has been there through it all, and never left my side. He has witnessed my life, and been a party to every important occasion, and I, his.

I am so excited for this crazy little thing called life to experience together!