This week my dear friend, mentor, role model, who-I-call-when-I-need-wisdom, and past professor, Beth, was in Charleston. I met her when I was 17 and at the end of my Freshman year of college. I never really felt at home in college, but I felt at home with her, in her office, answering her questions. She has watched me "grow up" and kept pace with me through every opportunity, decision, and coffee date.

I haven't seen her since 2021, but seeing her again this week - we slid into our natural cadence of conversation about women, work, creativity, gender roles, faith and use of time. On Wednesday afternoon, she came over to see my home - my labor of love, my creative haven, the thing I can't believe is mine. As we were pulling away, she asked me some questions (she's so good at asking questions) that caused me to reflect on May of last year when I was acting as a contractor with no experience at the age of 22, having panic attacks over paint colors and speeding to Lowes like a crazy lady at least three times a day.

And all I could say in response was - “I'm so grateful I was naive." And I don't mean that in a condensing way. I really am grateful that I didn't know, that I had more hope than doubt, that I could have the courage to walk straight into a construction site and say, “yes, we can figure this out.” Because looking around at this house now, this is a lot, this was a lot of work. I don't know if I would have been so game for taking care of this place as a young single woman if I would have known.

My birthday is on Sunday, and as another year passes and a new chapter begins to unfold, I'm thinking about what I'm leaving behind and what I want to take with me. The thing I really am most thankful for, the thing I'll miss the most, the thing I want to protect, pick up or restore - is this naivety or innocence or hopeful spirit that has propelled me into some of the most miraculous and magical experiences of my life so far.

It was only thanks to that naivety that I could move to a city without knowing anyone. It was because of the gift of not knowing that I was able to boldly start a business or renovate an 87 year old house with no experience. It's only because of that fresh spirit of hope that I was able to do many of the things I look back on and say in a grateful way, “that was crazy.”

People often say that being naive is a bad thing - but when I look back, it is the true gift that acted as a gateway for hope, risk, and genuine liveliness in my life so far. When I look back on the past few years, the person I have to thank is the Caroline that didn't know because the Caroline that didn't know, had a ton of hope.

This is what feels true to me: When you expect it to be easy, you'll see through that it is. When you expect a miracle to happen, one always does.

As I get older, I hope to remain a bit naive. I hope to stay hopeful. I hope to keep saying, “Well, how hard could it be!?”

Love,

C