grace and work.

i lean against the door. i am nine. i beg and i plead for her to come out. i plead and i plead and i plead. i am so tired. i sink to the floor, my ear still pressed against the door. i've done a grave mistake, so i keep apologizing. Her silence fills me with guilt, and i plead and i plead and i plead. i beg her to let me in. i beg her to come out. i won't do it anymore. i am alone. She eventually comes out, but she is cold towards me. For the rest of the day, i say i am sorry over and over again. Later on, before bed, she sits down on my bed and tells me that it was for my own good that she was angry at me. We are okay again, but i am exhausted from apologizing and from the emotional toll of the day.

i'm learning so much about grace these days. Three weeks ago, i met up with a friend who said that when he sees me, all he sees is work. My friend on the other hand, is always reminding me of grace. When you know him, you can tell he is someone who is full of grace. It made me cry, what he said. But i brushed off the tears and changed the subject. i don't want to be known as someone who works, but rather, someone who lives out of the outflow of Christ's love.

If you were to open up my prayer journals, you'd notice that all my prayer journals start with, "LORD, I am so sorry..." And while confession has it's place in our relationship with God, this is different. It's as though I am a little kid again, and begging my mom to come out and let me be with her. Everything I do isn't because of grace, it's because i'm scared that if i don't work, if i don't say i'm sorry enough, if i don't do enough, God will leave me.

When i came to Christ in high school, a part of the decision process was that i realized i couldn't measure up to the standard of perfection. However, after receiving Christ, it was as though my heart, below my conscious thought, was saying,"Now you really should be able to live up to this, Lydia." Everything i do hasn't been because of my love for Jesus. It's been because that same fear of rejection that existed before i knew Christ still exists in my heart today. It's as though i feel as though what i do will earn me something, put others into debt to respond in the same way, will ensure that i belong or be loved.
The life i live is not a life of grace. It's a life of work. A life of work out of the wrong motivation.

For the past few months, i've been searching for a coffee shop to call my own. A place to become a regular. i don't know, there's something comforting about knowing there's a place to go to where you can sit in the same chair and stare out the same window, week after week. My searching felt really futile, even though i'd walk around day after day. i gave up. Today, i found two really cute coffee places (well, one of them is more of a rice pudding place), and i wasn't even looking. i know it seems silly, but to me, it was as though God was saying, "Give up trying, Lydia. The blessings are all there. I'm here. I'm not leaving. I'll take you where you need to go."

To be honest, i see the sin of performance orientation in my life more and more as the days go by. i'm scared, because it's a root that as wrapped itself so intricately and so tightly around my life. i don't know how change will happen. Working for love is so connected to who i am, and my heart has long been trained to strive for the wrong reasons, i don't even know if i truly understand what grace is.

Letting go will be a moment by moment thing. i know i won't change overnight. But someday, i hope that when my friend sees me, he won't see work and striving. i hope that he'll see a servant heart, motivated by grace.

like water for chocolate.

i don't know why, but cooking for me is oddly therapeutic. It's not as though i'm supremely good at it. i just like watching onions sweat in olive oil, or watching apples brown in sugar and butter. But the only time i ever really cook is when people are coming over for dinner.

Yesterday, i was feeling pretty drained, but some friends were coming over for dinner. So i bought some fresh pre-made canneloni stuffed with cheese and asparagus, and i decided to make the sauce. i had heard from a friend that pesto is key, so i decided to try it out! First, i let some onions sweat in olive oil. Once they became translucent, i added in cubes of apples and diced yellow peppers. Then i added in mushrooms, and a can of herb and garlic diced tomatoes. i let this all simmer for awhile, and then added in 5 tablespoons of sugar, to draw out the juices from the tomatoes, peppers and apples. Finally, i added in two huge wooden spoonfuls of tomato pesto (my friend told me to use regular pesto, but tomato pesto was calling my name!!) and 1/4 of a small carton of heavy cooking cream. i let it cook for about 8 minutes.

I lined the bottom of a glass baking dish with the sauce, then lined up the canneloni, covered the pasta with more sauce, sprinkled a layer of cheese over the sauce, lined up more canneloni, covered it with sauce and added another thick layer of cheese. I baked this for 20 minutes and then broiled the cheese for another 4-5 minutes.

Voila!! Yummy goodness in under 40 minutes! (The apples made the sauce really sweet and tangy. As you can see, i'm on a fruit-in-my-meal kick..and it's pretty exciting.. not going to lie).

Anyways, this is an open invitation. If you call me the day before, you are always (read: almost always) welcome for dinner chez Lydia.

performance oriented.

Late last night, I reviewed my schedule for today. I looked at my minute-by-minute schedule, and I felt so stressed I couldn't sleep. I woke up this morning, and everything seemed to be going wrong. My skin was so painful and flaky, it hurt to move my arms, neck, legs and scalp in the shower. I couldn't get the printer at Concordia to work, and as a result was late to drop off the mediocre posters to be posted. All of a sudden, I looked at my minute-by-minute schedule, and I knew I really couldn't do it. I felt like I couldn't get through the day. It became hard to breathe and I wanted to throw up. I couldn't believe I was having an anxiety attack over what SHOULD have been a busy but doable day.

I was meeting up with Tara, who disciples me, and I was bawling. She said I needed to cut things from today. But I couldn't. What would people think of me? There were so many pressing things to be done. She offered to take some of my load off of me. That was by FAR the hardest thing to hear. It was good, but hard. And allowing her to do so, was like admitting defeat. I felt immense guilt for not being able to handle what I felt i should be able to handle. Enormous guilt for being a spaz and for somehow packing my day full, but not being able to carry through on what I had planned for my day. Guilt for not realizing my day was so packed until the night before. Guilt for having someone else carry the burden I was supposed to be carrying. Guilt for being weak.

Grace was given to me through Tara, and I was feeling guilty for that grace.

A couple of weeks ago, during a counselling session, my counsellor told me that I needed to imagine myself sitting next to Jesus in the garden of gethsemane, and allow him to take the burdens I had to the cross. I felt enormous guilt then too. And over and over, He kept telling me it was the only way, but the guilt I felt was immense.

After Tara left to prep for the things that I should have been doing (including a bible study that wasn't even a C4C study), I sat in the coffee shop doing the homework I was supposed to have done for my counselling session today. I was reading a chapter from a book on Performance Orientation. One of the things that struck me the most was reading how love and grace offered by God or by others leaves a performance oriented person feeling guilty. That performance oriented people feel they have to earn love by what they do, and so when grace is given (just by nature, grace is free), guilt becomes the resulting feeling.

I don't think I understand grace. But I want to understand it. I think understanding grace will be key to breaking through these days of anxiety, panic and depression.

(That, and maybe seeing a doctor to be rid of the flaky skin, hair loss, fatigue, etc. ?)

fashion advice, please!

Okay, i have to admit. i am the type to rarely ask for fashion advice. i follow the basic rules, but generally speaking, if you think i am dressing far out there, it's because i intend to. Had i the desire to dress particularly preppy or emo or (insert style here), i'd probably be able to. My roommate often tells me i lack style; maybe i do lack style, but i think it may also be that i just don't dress like my roommate. She's much more classy. i like to think of myself as being more hippie indie..but who really knows what i am? It's a pride thing; i like to be unclassifiable. Makes me feel more independent, ya know?

Anyways, tonight i am humbly beseeching you all for fashion advice. i am headed to a wedding on Sunday, and i need fashion advice.

So this is the dress i have:

(apologies for the poor quality)

The dress falls just above my knees. Here's my dilemma. This is one of those dresses that you can wear with sheer nylons (i was thinking black tights) OR with black leggings that end at your calves.

Sadly, today when i went to find black leggings, I couldn't.

Instead, I found these:

Gray cable-knit sweater tights. I know, I know, in your minds, you're screaming, "Don't do this, Lydia!" And i know many of you are siding with my roommate in the "dress classy" ideology. But give me a chance and imagine this with me:

The dress, paired with the cable-knit sweater tights, a pair of vintage-y flats, and vintage jewellery. Kinda going for the vintage, 60s/70s look, ya know? But, by admission, sometimes i go overboard. It works on a normal day, because let's face it. The 60s, 70s, 80s AND 90s are in. But this is, afterall, a wedding..and i'll concede that a little class needs to be displayed.

So, what should I do, ladies and gents? Should I go for broke and try out the vintage look? (with these shoes:)

or.. should I do the responsible, adult thing, and pair the dress with a pair of sheer black nylons and a pair of gold flats that kill my feet and bruise them all up?

You have until Saturday night to tell me what the right choice is.

thoughts.

i can't believe it's already Wednesday night. Where did the time go? Last week was really packed and i don't think i had a spare moment to waste. After it was all over, i felt a huge sense of satisfaction, like, "This is what I should be doing every week." Then came the weekend, which was also laden with a lot of interpersonal interaction. It was busy, and even though i had Saturday all to myself, i feel like the weekend came and disappeared before i could say the word, "Go."

It all felt extremely satisfying.

At least, it was a good feeling until Tuesday, when i was so tired i felt like a truck had run over me. All the adrenaline had depleted and in combination with the fact that i'm still not sleeping well, Tuesday was not a good day. I met up with the girl who disciples me, and tears started streaming down my face, for no good reason. Then i met up with my counsellor, and i bawled through the whole session.

In reflecting on all of this, i realize that i get a lot of my satisfaction from work, and that i find a lot of my identity in what i do, instead of who i am in Christ.

At the same time, i've started wondering, again, if i'm doing the right thing; i wonder if i'm in the right job. This year, far more than last, i'm enjoying what i do. i'm no longer bored like i was last year, and i'm so grateful for the level of staff care that comes with this job. i'm grateful for my director who has been more than accomodating (and, i mean, in what other job could you call your director when you're stranded in the middle of nowhere, and ask him to pick you up?), and i'm grateful for the amazing staff and students i get to work with. More than ever, i'm enjoying discipleship (maybe because, finally, i'm getting a chance to do more discipleship!) and i'm just enjoying going to campus each day. I love the girls i get to work with, and the more i work with them, the more i enjoy it and feel like i know (kinda!) what i'm doing and that i'm not just leading girls astray.

So then, why am i wondering? i don't know, i just look at my days, and i get tired from meeting with 2 people, a servant team meeting, a discipleship group meeting and a weekly meeting. It's fun and i love it, but i come out of that day with a throat that is so sore, it feels like its being grated by a thousand needles. i come out of many days with headaches, or an overwhelming fatigue and a high level of emotionality that makes me just sit and cry for no reason. i feel like an incompetent staff most of the time, and i know that it's no one but myself who is making me feel this way. I look at what other staff members do, and i recognize in my mind that i shouldn't compare, but i also recognize that i'm a missionary. Missionaries work with people. Maybe i'm not a very good people person.
I look at myself, and i'm not funny, i'm not very encouraging. I don't think i'm a very engaging person and to be honest, i'm not the kind of person people remember. I kind of fade into the distant memory of most people. i guess i look at myself, and can't help but think that i'm an ineffective staff worker. Lately, my capacity seems to be diminished, and in comparison to so many other staff workers, why would there be a need for a rusty, beat up truck, even if it is a truck who enjoys more and more each day what it does?

But when all is said and done, here i am again, doing the very thing i said i wouldn't do. Finding my identity in what i can or cannot do. It's not my works that will qualify me in any way. After all, it's not that Jesus is expecting productivity out of me. He's expecting faithfulness.

When i look back on my time in university, it never felt very productive. i left before i could see much real fruit, but this is what other eyes that are not my own see:

...praise God for the way your life has impacted mine!! You have definitely made such a difference in my life. C4C at UofT has taken such a dramatic turn. The prayers we had for the campus has finally started to bear fruit and there are lots and lots of amazing hearts for God in the movement here. Although, it definitely isn't the same without you! You were the drive and the passion most of the time and I miss that sometimes, because BIG sometimes means we get complacent and such. But i'll always remember how we started off.. small but mighty and desperate & hungry for change in the campus. Thanks for teaching me that! You challenged me and made me feel uncomfortable and i probably didn't like that too much but on hindsight, that was amazing and I really needed that. So now, although people are different, things are different, everything is different, I remember: WWLD? What Would Lydia Do? Haha, probably blasphemous but it helps me to challenge myself even though you're not around to give me a prod!

Anyways, that whole looong spiel just to say that I truely appreciate the years you've been there for me and I believe (i hope, anyways) that the seeds you've sown in my life and uoft have/will bear fruit. Praise God!

In reading this email, which came at a timely manner, i cannot for the life of me comprehend how the heck i made an impact on Camille. I look at how i am so fundamentally flawed and lacking in so many areas, and i don't even know how this is possible. And then, i realize...

...all along, it hasn't been me. I've just been a vehicle used by God to drive the whole process. I'm not funny, but He is. I'm not intriguing, but He is. I'm not encouraging, but He is. I'm not engaging or memorable, but He is. And the best thing is, He lives in me.

I know i can't do everything that other staff do (ugh, what a CUT TO THE PRIDE!). But I know that I haven't been called to do what they do. I've been called to be faithful to what He has entrusted me with (Matthew 25), knowing that in His time, He will bless that faithfulness.

a la carte, chez lydia on thanksgiving.

. butternut squash coconut soup (made with squash, apples, nectarines and mangoes!)
. sweet potato biscuits (scones)
. rosemary lemon turkey
. mashed sweet potatoes
. roasted hasselback potatoes
. i think the guests are bringing salad
. stuffing
. warm blackberry peach crumble (in individual ramekins!!)
. pumpkin squash pie (made by my housemate)

Let's hope i can pull this off and that my turkey doesn't kill anyone.

***

mission accomplished. i'm off to bed.

autumn soup.

I love fall. For numerous reasons, it is by far my favourite season. I love the contrast of the yellow leaves and the deep blue skies. I love pulling out a cardboard box, stuffed with all my sweaters, hidden away during summertime. I love the feeling of the fresh, crisp air, and the feeling of finding clothing that has been forgotten or dismissed. I love the feeling of rosy cheeks and the absence of sweat. I don't know, I just love everything that is fall. One thing I love most is autumn food. Squashes, sweet potatoes, peaches, blackberries, figs! The day when butternut squashes appear at the farmer's market is the day when my heart swells with lovage.

Two years ago, I had an eureka moment. I had forgotten to buy cream at the grocery store, and I was already in the process of making my squash soup. So I opened a can of coconut milk that I had sitting in my cupboard, and behold! Squash soup has never been the same. And my tastebuds have never been the same either. There have been other magical additions throughout the years, like the moment I decided that apple cider, mangoes, peaches and apples do wonders for soup.

So, in honour of squash, thanksgiving and everything that is autumn, I thought I would post two soup recipes that I have made throughout the years. Today was the perfect time to resurrect these recipes, since I'm going to a thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, and hosting one the day after. Note that butternut squash and sweet potatoes take approximately the same time to cook, and are therefore interchangeable.

Butternut Apple Coconut Squash Soup.

1 squash, peeled and cut into 1 inch cubes
half of a large onion
1/2 cup olive oil
2 gala apples
1/2 tsp curry powder
2/2 tsp ground cardamom
1/2 cup apple cider (today, I realized I didn't have apple cider, so I substituted orange banana strawberry juice for apple cider...it worked but the soup ended up having a bit more of a citrus taste)
1/2 cup coconut milk (make sure to shake the can before opening)
1/2 carton of chicken stock
salt and pepper to taste.


In a large pot, heat olive oil and add in onions. You'll want the onions to sweat, but not to brown. Fry until onions are translucent. Add in the squash and apples and sautee for approximately 10 to 15 minutes.

Stir in curry powder and cardamom. Add in the apple cider and coconut milk, and cook for about 3-5 minutes.

Finally, stir in the chicken stock, lower the heat, and simmer for approximately 30 minutes.

Puree the soup in a food processor until smooth.

Sprinkle salt and ground pepper to taste.
Sweet Potato, ginger, mango and peach soup.

6 cups sweet potato, peeled and cut into 1 inch cubes
1 mango peeled and cut into cubes
2 peaches/nectarines, peeled and cut into cubes.
1/2 onion
approx 3 tbsp grated gingerroot
olive oil
1/2 tsp curry powder
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper (or amount you desire)
1 can coconut milk
1 carton chicken broth
salt and pepper.

In a stockpot, sweat the onion in olive oil. Fry until translucent. Add in sweet potato, mango and peaches. Sautee for approximately 10 minutes.


Stir in curry powder and cayenne pepper.

Stir in coconut milk,chicken broth, and grated ginger. Reduce heat, cover and simmer for approximately 30 to 35 minutes.

Puree in food processor and serve immediately* with salt and pepper to taste.



*Because sweet potatoes are very starchy in nature, plan on serving this soup immediately. If not, make sure to add more chicken broth when reheating, as much of the moisture will be soaked up while the soup sits.

[edit: Monday, October 13th

I just made a fresh batch of soup. This time, I combined the butternut squash with 2 apples, 2 nectarines and 1 mango. I put in a lot more chicken broth, wasn't as strict with measuring, and put in ground ginger powder...It's RIDICULOUSLY good...

point of the story: go nuts with your soup! try anything and everything!!!]

me and automated messaging systems.

The following story is true, and happened in September...but I'm reliving it, while trying to scrape together ID in order to vote.

In July I was mugged. July the third, to be exact.

This is what happened when I tried to replace my drivers license.

Setting: I am sitting in a coffee shop.

After perusing the website for an inordinate amount of time, I finally find the phone number for Alberta Registry services.

I dial the number, and go figure, it's an automated messaging system for multiple Alberta government services. I get the operator on the phone. She says that she'll transfer me over to Alberta registry services. Again, it's an automated messaging system. There are multiple options, all of which are automated. There is one option to talk to an operator. So, I punch in "0" and lo, I am transferred...

.... back to the INITIAL operator! She transfers me BACK to the automated messaging system of Alberta Registry services. One of the options is to be transferred to a local license bureau. So, I press this button, and choose the CAA (or AMA, as it is known in Alberta). Again, an automated messaging system picks up. One of the options is, "To speak to an agent about a lost or stolen license, please press zero."

So, I press zero, and I'm transferred BACK to the INITIAL operator, who promptly says, "You again?", as if I don't know how to use a phone or follow directions. She transfers me BACK to the Alberta registry messaging system, at which point, I am SO frustrated that I hang up the phone.

Is THIS why Alberta has a surplus? Because the government won't pay for a few extra workers to answer phones? For the richest province in Canada, that whole episode was a bit of a let down.

***

Speaking of automated systems, yesterday I lost my wallet on the bus. So, I called the number for the lost and found, or whatever. I'm standing in the middle of nowheresville, I'm panicking because I have NO money, I have NO bus pass, NO ID, and I'm a 40 minute transit ride away from home. I call the number, and it's automated.

"Pour la service en Anglais appuyez sur le huit. For service in English, press 8"

I cannot emphasize how many times i pressed 8. I pressed 8 like a stinking maniac, and EVERY SINGLE time, it was, "Ce service n'est pas disponible." (This service is not available).

FOR THE LOVE OF MY UNCLE GEORGE!! COME ON!

Why would you even provide an option on an automated messaging system that does not exist?

I seriously called that number over and over, pressing 8 whenever I was directed to do so.
(Yes, I understand French, but when you're on the verge of tears, you're in the middle of nowhere, and you've just run 1km trying to catch up with the bus, you would not want to have to listen to an automated messaging system in French either.)

Eventually I gave up and I bawled. And then I called my director Andy, and bawled, and told him I didn't know how to get home. Andy came in the Vandy mobile to pick me up.

Today, when I tried calling the number (to see if my wallet had been returned), I pressed "8" again..and lo and behold.....the english option was working!!

Just my luck.

Moral of the story: Automated Messaging Systems= a crapload of garbage.

best and worst.

Being diagnosed with depression this year has been one of the best things and one of the worst things that has happened to me; because of depression, I am tired all the time. I have trouble falling asleep, but I'm constantly tired. I get a lot of headaches and little things that would not usually bother me, really bother me. Big things just throw me right off course. Any source of conflict leaves me feeling paralyzed and affects many other things around me.

On the other hand, because of depression and the diagnosis, I see God in a different light. He really is all I can depend on. I go through my days and know that I can't make it through without His Spirit filling me. I wake up and my packed day makes me feel anxious, but then I remember whose Sovereign Hand is guiding my life, and my heart calms. I've been so much better at setting much needed boundaries: not volunteering to do everything, telling people that I am not doing the things they assume I will be doing, recognizing my need to be alone or with people, and acting accordingly. I'm a more proactive person and everytime I see my counsellor, things I once thought I understood become so much clearer. Forgiveness, the Cross, my identity in Christ-- all of these things are things I understand much much more now.

Not everyday is a happy day. Not every day is easy. But somewhere in my soul, there is a deep rooted sense of joy in anticipation of the grace I have received and will receive. It is a grace that was given at the cross and ripples into eternity.

sad sad day!

Okay, so yesterday, I found this AMAZING coffee shop that will soon become the coffee shop of my dreams.

I mean, they have BARBECUE TOFU WRAPS! Like, how ME is that?

Swoon. ♥

But when I went there today, I found out that it's closed on Mondays until 6pm!!!!!!

TRAGEDY!

So, I meandered around, trying to find a coffee shop. I found one and went in, but the vibe was ALL wrong. But you know, when you step into an empty coffee shop and the barista sees you, it's like you've committed to staying. If you're with people, you can be a bit more bold and leave, but if not.... it's over. You've committed.

Anyways, there I was, stuck and hungry; i hadn't eaten breakfast because I was so excited to eat a barbecue tofu wrap. So I ordered an allongé and a turkey sandwich (oh, so far off from a barbecue tofu wrap). I tried to get onto their free wifi, but it didn't work. The place had a strange vibe, and all the people there were old or TOO hippie for my taste. And it takes a lot for me to say the words too hippie. ( I also realized that I don't really like coffee shops with red and black walls).

I decided that I could not possibly spend 3 hours of my life in that hole, so I ate as fast as possible and continued my search for a place to work.

Luckily, I found a place down the street. It's full service, which means I'll have to pay a tip, but it's Illy coffee, and the wifi works.

I'm still mourning the closedness of my dream coffee shop, but there'll be another day for that. Someday.

i don't know what kind of girl i am.

i hear ya, Juno. i hear ya.
i dunno, today is one of those days. i went to bed feeling kinda blah, and woke up feeling blah. Whilst in the shower, i argued with myself over whether i wanted to go to church or not. Today was one of those rare Sundays when I had absolutely no responsibilities for church, and did not feel like going. i have not not gone to church for no reason in... i can't even remember how long. A very long time. Maybe since i was a kid. Anyways, i hemmed and hawwed for a very long time, and thought to myself, "If Loni calls me and offers me a ride, I'll go."

Loni only calls whenever Andy is preaching, and i figured she wouldn't call me. So, with wet hair, i jumped back into bed, pulled the covers over my head, set my alarm and prepared for sleep.

My phone rang. It was Loni.

Shoot, why do things like that happen?

i felt sad in the service. i don't know why. i just was.

Do you ever have days like this? Where you feel alone, and yet don't want to be with anyone? After service, i dashed out the door, proceeded to find some comfort food (read: mcdonalds) and headed home.

The sun is shining outside, and it is a gorgeous day. i am lonely, but i don't want to be with anyone i already know.

As i typed this, a huge grey cloud swallowed the blue sky.

i am going to back to bed.

pet peeves.

i have a multitude of pet peeves. do you have any?

. walk left, stand right people!
grrr, i get so mad when people clog up the escalator line by standing on the left! sometimes, i even yell out: "walk left, stand right!"

. when people say, "Oh, you'll find the right guy someday."
i know it's well intentioned, but it's so....i don't know...cliché?
a) if it comes from someone already in a committed relationship, i think, "Gee, thanks for that great word of counsel, but you're not the one who is single, and you can't guarantee i'll meet that right guy."
b) if it comes from a single girl, i think, "That's right, hope you're making yourself feel better."
c) if it comes from a single guy, i think (not all the time!), "Yeah, but I'm obviously not the right girl for you, since you obviously aren't madly in love with me. That's right, pawn me off onto some other poor unknowing soul."

. when people laugh at me for being scared of my ghetto neighbourhood.
i dunno, i'm sorry, but when you become a short 5'2 asian girl, with no upper body strength, you tell me i shouldn't be scared that i'll be mugged/raped etc across the street from what is, i'm pretty sure, a drug house.

my left eye hurts, and there is a bubble on it. check it out:

gross eh? I'm going to bed. Hopefully the bubble will go away.

thoughts.

. when do you jump ship and say 'this ship is not heading in a good direction'? Do you stay and hope that you can help maneuver its course into a good direction? Or do you leave before things go too off course and you've lost your personal bearings?

. i like the song Bruises by Chairlift.

. mac just speaks to my musical heart. feist, yael naim, chairlift...even that music is my hot hot sex song is catchy!

. michael cera..tomorrow!

. sometimes, we don't aim high enough. I'd rather aim high than settle.