Meredith Rounsley

Of New Years…

Well, well, well. Another year has come and gone. It was swift and full of a lot of things: good and bad, expected an unexpected. 2011 is now a couple hundred pages of my journal and a vast landscape of memories that are tucked into my mind.

A lot of people in the blog world like to do a New Years post. They make declarations of what they are going to accomplish in the year to come and offer a way to bring others along for the ride. Perhaps they will become a runner this year, write a novel, cook their way through a Julia Child book, or embark on their first year as a parent. There is something so interesting about being able to dive into the world of someone else – if only for a moment – and see a world that is completely different from our own. This age of technology has allowed us to do so easily. Seamlessly. I know things like facebook and twitter allow me to be in the worlds of so many of my friends without navigating from so much as a web page. It’s pretty awesome.

I thought about whether or not I should do a post like one of so many. Should I lay out my goals and allow a sea of people to keep me accountable? Honestly, that doesn’t really seem to be too appealing to me.

But something else really does.

I’m gonna be really honest with you and say that 2011 stole my thunder. I’ve said that to a few people, but I mean it with a lighthearted sincerity.

I spent most of the year sick, unable to use my voice, and scraping by in the ways of a student working minimum wage in too many places and overextending myself in too many directions. Writing music was sacrificed for writing up spreadsheets and I rarely picked up an instrument. Almost everything that I did became a chore. Seeing myself get stuck in this pattern was pretty disheartening. So, when I boarded the plane to come home for Christmas I told myself one thing and one thing only.

This year I am going to remember who I am again.

That’s it. No fancy promises or complications. I am going to love people with all that I have, give my life generously to those who need it, and give of myself honestly and passionately to the things I was created to do.

I realize that this could be vague, so I set some of my own personal goals that are going to unfold during the year. But I want to make 2012 a year where I finish the things I start and start the things that I love.

There is this quiet understanding in my very soul that when I begin to really do what I was made for…then I will remember who I am again.

Excitement is bubbling up in me as I think of all of the things that are going to come from this year. Fresh promise, opportunity, and life are welling up from the top of my head to the tips of my toes!

What about you? What are some things that you want to accomplish this year?

Anniversary

Well, Ladies and Gentlemen. Here it is. The one year re-cap.

Just over a year ago I packed most of what I owned, cautiously put it on a plane (I’ll always be nervous for my guitar), and boarded a flight to Sydney, Australia. The only people I knew in this country were my aunt, uncle, and the handful of people I had asked questions of over facebook. I distinctly remember standing in my empty bedroom and surveying the sprawling suburbia of the Hills district from my window. “This is home,” I thought to myself. Perhaps then I was just trying to be convincing. Now I know that it was more of a prophecy.

Over the past twelve months, this little corner of the world has become my world. Here dwells my second family. They are a group of incredibly loyal, passionate, fun loving, and faithful individuals. We have held each other up while our collective lives get turned upside down. Even now, we gather around tables and talk about the crazy living situations and sheer miracles it takes to keep us alive. We may have been put together simply because we’re in the same class, but we have stayed together because we believe in each other.

Living with these people has made me, if anything, more faithful. Nothing beats sitting across from a professional opera singer, a lawyer, a physical therapist, a father, a graphic designer, a marketer, or a writer and hearing about their journey to Bible college. I am inspired daily by their lives and the strength of their faith. Week after week I get to walk into church and witness them BEING the Church. It has been an honour to serve alongside them and learn from their example. It would be an understatement to say that my life has been radically changed by their wisdom and leadership. Never have I been more convinced that God put people in our path for a reason.

This year has been one of triumph, trial, provision, and lack. My heart has been pushed to it’s absolute limit. Sometimes, when it’s really quiet at night, I am convinced that I can hear it beating stronger inside my chest. I have been carried in my weakness, comforted in my anxiety, and reminded that dependency can be the best thing of all. Especially when it is on grace that has been so freely given.

On Friday I officially enroll in my second year of Bible college. I am certain that this year will be full of just as many incredible, impossible, and unfathomable things as the last. And though I walk into this year as a woman, I have fond memories of the scared little girl that got off of that plane last July. I pray that I never lose her sense of expectation.

Here we go!

Parachute 2012

Friends, allies, companions! It is good to have you on my blog this fine day. I would love to take a minute to talk to you about something cool that I may get to be a part of. But ONLY if I get your help.

Parachute Festival in New Zealand is the biggest (and arguably coolest) music festival in the country. Every January thousands of people congregate in the middle of Hamilton to camp out, listen to great music, and have a total blast.

This year on the web page, Parachute is asking fans who they would like to see playing at the festival next year. I, for one, think that an American would fit in very nicely on their roster!

You think so, too? GREAT! Here’s how you can help:

Visit www.parachutemusic.com/festival and enter my name in as a band that you want to see play next year. It’s that easy!

Also, to help generate some momentum behind this, visit my facebook page and make my profile picture your own! Tag a few friends, share it on people’s walls, spread the word!

Thanks so much for all that you do to support and encourage my music. You’re the best ever!

On Being Grown Up

It’s been a while. A dreadful long while since I wrote a blog. And I only say “dreadful long while” because I’m watching Walk The Line. There’s always some part of me that wants to be a southern woman when I watch these movies. Perfectly done hair with lipstick that they are always blotting and noses that always need a touch of powder. Paula Deen, you know. That’s probably not the norm anymore. But I would love for it to be.

This week has been full of assessment writing, busking, grabbing a few minutes with friends, and avoiding cleaning my room. And, in the middle of it all, I’ve gotten to do a little housekeeping with my brain. You know, ask some big questions and see if some big answers come through.

The biggest question I have asked myself is this: What does being a grown up mean to me?

Because I am a grown up now. Plain and simple. I recently had my 20^th birthday and I could NOT believe how quickly it snuck up on me. No longer am I part of the collective of “teenagers”. I am so responsible for myself now that it isn’t even funny. And knowing that I am responsible has caused me to do a few things differently.

Firstly, I am learning how to make my time count. It has been said that both the successful and the unsuccessful have the same amount of hours in the day. And it’s totally true. I have found that, no matter how much I get done this weekend, I will do it with the same amount of time that I had at my disposal last weekend. Crazy, hey? My goal in life right now is not to be needlessly busy. I set aside time for work, for school, for people, and to relax but I don’t just leave large chunks of my life unplanned. As one of my teachers once said “Unplanned time is seized by our bad habits.”

Secondly, I am learning what means the most to me. Ask me a year ago what I valued and I would have probably given you a pretty shaky off the cuff response. Now that I am grown I am taking a step back and actually choosing to place value on things. Relationships, reputation, paying my bills on time (woohoo!), and making promises that I can keep are taking high priority these days. Now that my name is attached to them and not my parents they have become so much more important and close to me.

Lastly, I am beginning to understand what it means to pursue what you love. I think I’ve spent a lot of time mindlessly trailing behind the things that I love for the past few years. Granted, “trailing behind” and “moving to Australia” don’t seem to have the same force behind them. I certainly didn’t come all the way across the world to Bible college because I “like” God or music. But now that I am here I can see the things that I allow to become secondary just because I don’t put in the energy to bring them to the forefront of my life. And that is changing rapidly.

Maybe I’m just a baby grown up. However, I am really trying to make all of the things that I can do count for something. And if that means that I have to just woman up and take responsibility for myself, then why not? Why not set out to be better at what I am capable of? That would be a pretty big waste.

So, to all of you grown ups out there…here I come! Any advice for a baby grown up? Toss a comment in below and share your wisdom!

I Hope That It Snows

My hometown has had something a little strange going on. Suddenly, there’s snow! The Eastern Shore of Maryland has had a very mild winter season. Perhaps there was the odd inch or two of snow, but it was only enough to give kids a day off of school for show and some miniature snowmen. But this winter has been one of the exceptions. These are some shots from the road close to my house:

The Snow Outside

Since I am not the type to put on show shoes and go for a hike in the drifts or snowboard down miniature drifts, I spent time inside writing songs and watching music documentaries. What about you? If you’re in the Northern Hemisphere like I am, how are you spending the cold snow days?

Back From Australia [TOUR]

YES! I am back in the great United States of America and next week I will be playing three shows on the shore. All of the shows are FREE and I will have limited edition handmade copies of my single “That You Love Me” available. It’s going to be absolutely amazing. And you should partake in it!

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 15TH
6:30 p.m. – FREE
24/7 Youth @ Dagsboro Church of God
32224 Dupont Blvd Dagsboro, DE 19939

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 17TH
With “Vanity”
7 p.m. – FREE
Common Grounds: A Fair Trade Coffee House
701 D East Naylor Mill Rd Salisbury, MD

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 18TH
6 p.m. – FREE
Four Corners Café
10280 Shawnee Rd. Greenwood, DE 19950

Mark your calendars and DON’T miss it. There will be stories, a new song (yay!), and tons of festivities so make sure to tweet it, post it on facebook, and bring out everyone you know!

Round Trip Ticket

As I begin this blog the clock is dutifully informing me that I am eleven hours from departing this great land of Australia and heading home for the holidays. This is sparking two very different feelings in me.

The first is whether or not I’m really and truly a responsible enough human being to be going “home for the holidays” for the rest of my life. I mean, isn’t that the first sign of being a grown up? The things that once always were change violently and I am now forced to make do with what I have. I may be home for Christmas, but I know a lot of kids who are facing this new life without a family visit. Will I ever be ready for that?

The second is that home is in two places now. When my travel weary feet first met Australian soil I was undeniably away from home. Nothing was familiar. Money looked more like a pastel rainbow, McDonalds had a two-dollar menu, and cars came zipping towards me on the wrong side of the road. I recall wandering through shopping malls utterly lost and clutching a public transport map; a life raft that would keep me afloat amidst a sea of people. That’s all different now. While I’m “going home” to the States, my home is also here. Doing this is like picking up and moving to the other side of the world all over again. It may not be permanent, but there is still a twinge of heartbreak. I may be home for Christmas, but I will also be away for Christmas. That’s gonna take some getting used to.

Regardless of where home is, I am beyond excited to be back where I’m from. There are a lot of people and places that I miss. And sometime this Christmas, gathered around a friend’s piano making the happiest of music, there will be that contentment that is so elusive to little wanderers like me. I await it with a happy heart.

(….also, all I want is a bagel.)

The Far Side of the Sea

The days are steadily growing warmer here. I remember the first night that I had to sleep with a fan on in my room. Magical though this entire journey may be, it has been lived in an un-insulated house. Therefore the winters are cold and the summers, so I have been informed and have experienced on a miniscule scale, are hotter than a fresh batch of fries. The warmth seems to bring out the best, though; the best animals, the best colours, and the best thunderstorms!

Last night’s storm was quite the beast. It raged on outside for hours, crashing around like a hungry teenage boy in a kitchen. The second I heard distant rumbles I was out the door with my face to the sky like a little kid. This should have been a warning to me right there. The minute I begin to see things through the eyes of a child I enter a mode of blind panic. You can laugh. It’s okay. But you should know that I was a worrier as a child. Even the simplest things involved a complex decision making process, the weighing of options, and (only if I really thought it was necessary) a panic attack. Sometimes I feel like I’ve grown out of that…and then I get in touch with my inner child.

My life is so amazing. It’s the truth. Ask me how I am and the general, honest answer would be “so good!” But I live in a mode of uncertainty. I’ve lived in it for about three years and it has never really gotten too much easier. I mean, don’t get me wrong here. I’m tons of fun![!!!!!!!!!!!] Seriously. But I’ve always been the type of person who would rather have a back up plan or some sort of reassurance that things will happen exactly as they were intended. After I had created a timeline I would confidently march it up to God and say, “Well, here you go! You just take it easy there and work on everyone else. I’ve got this pretty well managed from here on out.” I always imagine Him chuckling at that. I can’t actually hear it, but I can feel the ripple effect of it. Each reverberating laugh is enough to nudge me in a direction that I hadn’t thought of. Often I feel like I am accidentally tripping through metaphorically open doors only to find out later that there were incidents in my life that practically created blinking runway lights towards those doors. But that doesn’t mean I walked through them peacefully.

Last night, with the sky lit up like the fourth of July, I sat on a couch in my garage and cried. I cried for all of the things I didn’t understand, the future that is hiding from me, and all of the things that I am afraid to step up and be. I waited until everyone else went to bed and stumbled gracelessly back into the house with my journal to find the nearest tissue box. Because tissues are a luxury, I instead opted for a free toilet paper roll and pulled myself up to the kitchen table. I opened my laptop and began to do the only thing I could think to do. Send my mom a Facebook message. And then, as if she heard my sniffles echoing across the planet, her chat box popped up on the screen.

Mothers are amazing. Well, mine is. She is a strong reminder that you can be awesome and smart at the same time. She is also a fountain of serious wisdom. And in the way that only mothers can do, she drew every piece of the story out of me that she could and (much more eloquently than I can put it) told me to stop worrying and just live. No matter what happens I am guaranteed that the hand of God goes with me and will continue to guide me through the doors that I keep noticing everywhere. During chapel today at college Psalm 139 flashed right across the forefront of my mind. No matter where I go, even if I settle on the far side of the sea, God is with me.

How many years have I lived with this realization and not put it into practice? It’s the foundation of everything that I believe. God is with me. But, when the rubber hits the road and I have to travel to life in full surrender to Him, it gets a little more difficult. It’s been a slow and steady process of loosening my control freak grip on every area of my life. And I am by no means finished with the process. But I consider this area of my life one that has been and will continue to be offered up daily. I’m never sure of what is going to happen next. Honestly, I have no idea what my life will look like in the days, months, and years to come. But I am determined to live them out resting in the knowledge that I can stand on truth like that. Amen and amen.

Melbourne

My housemate, Steph, and I just returned from a spring holiday in Melbourne, Australia. For those of you who are not geographically inclined, that is at the very base of the Australian continent. It is strikingly different from my current home in Sydney – an artsy town full of quirky people and their hobbies. Public transport consists of a network of trams sliding efficiently along in road railways. The city itself isn’t very large, but when you stand right in the heart of it you can’t help but feel small. Buildings tower on both sides and the 5 p.m. rush hour is enough to stun even the most carefree person. First your left shoulder gets knocked, then a jogger grazes your right shoulder, and you would stop and reprimand the both of them if you didn’t want to be their friend so badly. That’s just the magic of Melbourne.

The two of us meandered off of the plane in high spirits. We met my aunt and uncle – who would be our hosts for the week – for hamburgers at an American inspired diner in some corner of the city. From there we took a drive down the peninsula and away from the epicenter towards the beach. Days were spent watching the sun rise and fall over a breathtakingly beautiful bay. When the mist wasn’t clinging to the water we could clearly see the distant coastline, mountainous shadows left for us to explore. There were beaches that everyone knew about scattered along the shores. A few meters away there were beaches that no one knew about except for the occasional surfer. Quiet nights in turned to uproarious laughter and late night story telling, as all good family vacations do.

We spent two days combing the city and it’s surrounding areas for cheap clothes, great coffee shops, interesting people, and beautiful places. We found them all. Most times we wandered our way back home feeling both highly accomplished and a bit sad that our days in such a place were numbered.

Now, settled back into our quiet little Sydney home, we share stories of the adventure that we had and the good people we had the fortune to spend it with.

Mad Busy, Happily Tired

I’ve stolen away to a remote corner of this large church building in order to breathe. Since I last sent you one of these little letters I have been swept up by a whirlwind of activity. School requires assessments, which require research, which necessitate fieldwork, which ties into church life, which spills over into connect group, which births new friendships, which finds me up all hours of the night is someone else’s living room, which sends me staggering into school the next day blinded by the utter happiness of being somewhere so good. My life is now intertwined with these amazing people. Whether I sit next to them in class, make salsa with them on a Thursday night, or don an orange vest and tell stories with them during Saturday night car park, I can’t help loving them.

Among the excitement, I’m writing again. And everyone shouted “HOORAY!” I am taking my time with these precious children of songs. They are so new and so raw, I’m actually a little afraid for them. I know that sounds a tad bit weird…but I’ll risk it. Musicians are supposed to be eccentric, yes?

I’m also trying to be a bit better about collecting myself and having something for you to read on this blog. The day is coming where I write three or four of these little gems and store them away for you to read on a rainy day! Until then, dinner is calling my name!