Starting Off

My brain short circuits at the end of the weekend. No matter how many times I do it, the start of my work week is new, shiny and filled with promise. A loan soldier, fighting for “the dream” in my generally pragmatic mind.

My commute playlist floods my mind with thoughts of accomplishment and “all is right in the world” vibes. My coffee tastes better. All these sky-rises I walk past – they’re filled with dreams come to life not tired workers waiting for the weekend. I get to my desk and think of all the ways I’m gonna kick this week’s ass.

By mid-week I’m eager for Friday but not feeling like I’ve earned it. I should’ve done more on Tuesday night. I could’ve of skipped lunch and come into that presentation more prepared, then I would’ve gotten more  buy-in. I could have went running after work today.

The should’ve, could’ve, would’ve pack of wolves comes out in full force and I’m beat again. Current life goal? How to keep those ball-buster vibes alive till the weekend. How do I get back to feeling like I’ve earned my Friday?

 

Till Next Time

I’m typing this hunched at the edge of my desk. The other half is covered in a sloppily folded pile of summer clothes that I still haven’t stored away, which is hiding the low water line of my dying flowers. I see it but I don’t care. It’s 10:37 and on a normal night, especially a normal Monday night, I would be buzzing around my house, busying myself with my bed time ritual of “hurry to slow down.” Get it all done so you can sleep.

But tonight I got the itch, the work week hasn’t gotten to me yet and instead of diving head first into responsibility and achievements, I take a detour into myself. As I brought up in my last post, these inspired moments are rare. I haven’t quite figured out their ingredients – not sure I ever will. They are always different and maybe it really is just chemical. Everything just feels right and I don’t know if that is fate or mental state or maybe a mix of both.

Was it because I exercised and relieved all that stress? Was it the glass of wine each night this weekend? Or did that make it worse? No, it was his smile that morning. It was her laugh over the phone and the anticipation of seeing it in real life next week. It was me noticing. It was my mind letting me being kind, letting me stop the noise and the imbalance. It was listening to the drizzle of the rain and discovering how being in a cozy bed when its pouring outside your window is almost as satisfying as a hug – cocooning you a warm little space of relief.

These moments polarize my mentality. I see that I spend so much time trying to get away from the ugly feelings – stress, tension, doubt, fear, sadness, nothingness – that I grapple at the little things. I am saying this like I have some sage wisdom now- Ha. Ha. Ha. I’m so smug in my easy peace of mind. But I empathize with my more frazzled state as well. It will come again and I understand that its nothing I can run away from. I will ride it out and have faith in the next wave of clarity. The next time when everything feels right and you just can’t place it but it’s so nice you don’t want to.

Till next time…

People vs. Places: My Experience with Urban Living

Satisfaction isn’t where you are. It took me thousands of dollars worth of rent and several years to realize that joy isn’t sourced through living in a beautiful location with infinite ability to explore and spend lots more money and say you did this or that. I know that (to a lot of people) this is a really satiating experience. I won’t glide past the glorious aspects of living in an urban setting just because of my overall disappointment in it.There are many moments where I look at my life through a rose colored lens and I can’t believe I live somewhere so magnificent, rich and vivacious. But those are moments. Daily life is still daily life. The sun climbing the sky and splinters of light slipping through the skyscrapers on my walk into work – that is breathtaking – but I’m still walking to work…

The city makes me feel smaller and lonelier and so extrinsic in value that almost nothing feels sacred. Being with people, sharing real conversations- peppered with humor but steeped in truth – those are the moments that bring me peace and happiness. Thinking back to travelling abroad – my favorite locations were the ones where I had great company. It is never where you are as much as who you are with.

Get Grounded

I went home for a week. I came back to my family and my roots. You forget how quickly you lost sight of those things – the little pockets of unused muscle memory that keep you grounded and give you clarity. The dirty dishes in the sink that you suddenly don’t mind. The worn quilt that doesn’t need to be replaced, just nuzzled and savored. It’s was a “duh” moment that I experienced in all of its ironic glory – I felt more beautiful and alive when I wasn’t caring about what I looked like or how I was living.

It makes me wonder if growing up just makes you come full circle – you constantly recognize yourself changing, developing, growing – you’re on this hamster wheel of evaluation and you can’t get off. Then you come home and you see you’re still made up of the same foundation. Maybe you shed some layers and revealed a shiny new coat of adulthood. Maybe you’ve come back weathered, tarnished and a bit worn from life’s pressures. Probably both, just one shows more than the other. But underneath it all, you’re still the same person. Without all the theatrics and ambitions and bullshit, you get back to your bare bones and you’ll think that your nothing without it all, but trust me when I say, you’ll feel so weightless you could fly.

Giving No Shits

This past weekend I flew out to Miami to visit my sister. Seeing her is like putting on a pair of worn-in blue jeans that never fail you. Doesn’t matter if you’re having a fat day, feeling like a movie star or too busy to care what you look like. They suit you. They make you feel good… She suits me and she always makes me feel like I’m right where I should be. We laugh a lot. We relax a lot. We share a common interest in simple pleasures and finding endearing humor in the spectrum of human quirks that cross our paths.

Prior to my visit, my sister had joked about a yoga class she had been attending. It was comprised of a retired yogi and his devout (similarly senior) attendees. They were really into the class and him and moaning… a lot. Naturally, I couldn’t pass up the chance to witness these awkward sexual undertones so I joined her.

Fast forward 1.5 hours and I’ve never felt more calm. My body was like a hard piece of taffy, warmed and stretched, minute by minute, forming into a pliable pillar of serenity. You can laugh at me. I would have laughed at me. That type of calm, if you haven’t felt it, sounds hilariously exaggerated. I mean, I’ve always called bullshit on this inner peace stuff.

I was wrong. It happened. I discovered this zen zone but I couldn’t figure out how. Why was this class better than any other yoga class I’ve taken? Was it the bubbling fountain and contemporary soundtrack in the background? Was it the instructor getting all up in my business with his pushing and pulling at my limbs the entire class? All of this contributed to my nice little mental vacay but I think the tipping point was really my fellow yogis. A conglomeration of people who just didn’t give a crap what others were doing or thinking or feeling about them. They didn’t stare into a mirror to check out their pose. They moaned with each assisted stretch and heaved out breath on every exhale. We all got really sweaty and gross and blissfully careless about it. The way these 70+ year old women could contort themselves, I was blown away and inspired.

Ok. I am not as reverent as I claim. My sister looked at me during a particularly colorful cry of relief and I lost my shit. I stifled my laughs and mumbled something about never sweating so much in my life HAR HAR HAR. Still, I learned something from this class that was far beyond a pose or a headstand that may or may not have paralyzed me for two minutes. I learned that with age comes the beauty of not giving a fuck. The most peaceful state of mind. You don’t need to lay in savasana for an hour or sweat out of pores you didn’t know existed, you just need to stop caring about what he/she/they think and do YOU.

Relieving the Pressure (You Put On Yourself)

Tonight carries a certain sort of mental twilight… the kind that emanates from a peaceful state of mind. It streams out of methodical, rhythmic actions, flooding the cracks and crevices of the remaining evening – all resulting in your head just falling on the pillow, feeling content, sleepy and null of those pesky anxieties that keep us from that REM sleep.

These nights rarely occur during a weekday and, knowing this, I stopped myself to put my finger on it. Why was tonight different from any other weekday? What put a subconscious halt to my eternal hamster-wheel of a brain?

I took the pressure off.

I didn’t pick up dinner ingredients. I grabbed Chipolte on the way home. I didn’t debate if I was too exhausted for the gym. I just got up and went… and worked my literal ass off to the point of looking part-radish, part-human. I didn’t force myself to be in bed early. I sat at my desk and started churning this out. 

These are not particularly ambitious or particularly indulgent things but I stopped worrying about meeting a personal quota or agenda. I simply lived and told myself, “this is enough… I am enough for today.”

Nights can’t always be this mentally calm. I will stress about that looming credit card bill or planning that weekend trip or whitening my teeth or whatever other random concoction I need to feel that buzz of stress and 5 minutes of satisfaction for getting it completed. But in this night where I simply let myself live, I’ll remember that taking the pressure off feels so much better than falling into that black hole of “you haven’t done enough.”

Those little bricks will create an eventual big house and no matter how small, they still keep you growing… that one workout, that one blog post.

Pressure off 😉

Ignore the text… this was drawn at work, on the back of a document.

Life Happening vs. Goals in the Making

Sorry I’ve been gone. Life always seems to be a strange blend of impulses that have to be satiated and regiments that leave no room anything outside of the to-do list. Writing a blog post has been neither an impulse or a necessity towards the path of short-term successes… so its been on a back (BACK) burner. I also realize it tends to soothe only one soul, my own, and hangs low on the totem pole of goals because not too many people read this and if you do, well thanks! And I hope it is enticing and valuable to your brain/heart/whatever needs to be fulfilled.

Well this morning I woke up earlier than anticipated, got out of bed, got back in bed, realized I didn’t want to leave that perfect atmosphere of cozy duvet during morning chill, perused my news feeds (junk but that good kind, like the Jerry Springer of news articles) and finally realized another snooze wasn’t gonna happen. Slipping out of bed, careful not to wake the sleepy bunny next to me, I tip-toed to the couch and sat without distraction staring off into the light trickling through the shades.

I thought back to when I had many days “off”, when I was looking for  a job in this massive, overqualified city of ambitious and brilliant people. I thought about how its been almost a year since we moved here and how things have progressed but changed in ways I didn’t anticipate. The job I got in the industry I never expected with opportunities I never entertained. It reminded me of how irritating it was to hear the question,

“Where do you see yourself in 10 years?” 

Uh. Somewhere where I’m ten years older, hopefully ten years wiser and have more than $500 in my bank account? The last two years have been multiple series of “what the hell am I doing?!” and its enough for me to see that life changes A LOT. If I had a solid plan of exactly where I wanted to be, I’m pretty positive I would be too narrow-minded to make the changes I need to live in accordance to whats needed to really use up my full potential and LIVE. But in the same sense I definitely see that goals and ambition are important, they remind you that life cannot be built off of convenience or simply necessity. You have to step outside of those boxes, stay on the path toward your goal and not fall into a comfort zone.  

I guess the best way to put it is –  create goals for yourself because they are vital to staying alive, but don’t create such a massive plan that when life happens and presents you with a hidden little nugget of gold, something that seems rough around the edges and not quite your grand plan, that you’re outside of your dreams enough to see that those goals can develop and be achieved in unforeseeable instances.

I was reminded that maybe my lack of writing was really just letting life get in the way – with its odd blend of comfort-zoning and finding dire need in small achievements that quite likely won’t make a difference in 5 years but seem like a really big deal right now. So I let those things get there fifteen minutes of fame in my life and I sat on the couch just a little longer than usual after work – but I remembered goals don’t come to fruition out of brainstorming while watching Netflix or eyeing my unfinished painting and thinking about how I’m gonna get it done tomorrow but I totally don’t have time right now.

Goals are met by always biting off a little more than you can chew and continuously taking something on, regardless of if it seems like a big deal or a little deal in life. Stating the obvious here, but sometimes the obvious needs to be stated a lot to be heard and processed and utilized. 

Andrea

Many women can agree that a loving mother is a strange blend of your most annoying conscience and your saving grace.  She’ll be the first person to hassle you and the last person to leave when shit hits the fan. She can’t help but fuss over you and its kind of okay because even though you aren’t a little girl anymore it feels good to have her love. And bit by bit you’ll watch her trust you too. If you are really close, she’ll start peeling back the layers of armor she’s accumulated over the years, built up through all the times she fought for herself and then for you, and you’ll get a glimpse of the girl she was and the woman she’s become outside of your Mother. She’ll become more than your Mother. She’ll become a woman that you respect and love and admire and watch out for just the way she watched out for you all your life.

While she always will be my mother above all else, I admire her as a woman named Andrea, a woman that has taught me lessons outside of her role in my upbringing.  A fun chick that speaks her mind and spreads her warmth and makes life more enjoyable, less boring. A woman you ought to know and learn from as well. Meet Andrea and her amazing life lessons….

Young Andrea

1.) If you’re ready to forgive, say sorry first.

One of the most valuable life lessons my mom ever taught me was to be humble in your own fighting fouls. I remember getting into heated arguments with my mom. You know – the hysterics, crying, whining, hating, stomping, slamming (as you can imagine, I was the model child). After time in my room,  I would come to my senses and go apologize for being a nut case. Even when I was a little girl, she would apologize as well, which I found to be so rare and phenomenal for a parent. I knew she was never my equal but I felt a sense of respect from her and love from her that trumped being my disciplinary.

When she was actually at fault for anything, she always gave an earnest apology. This carried on in my own lifestyle. While I’ve always had a sense of self respect, I’ve learned that pride is a whole other ugly mess. When I’m feeling hot-headed and filled with pride, I always remember how fair my mom is. I remember that resolution will always be a bigger consolation than isolating yourself in your anger or blame.

My Mom and I when I graduated University

2.) Spend money on travel.

While we all know that money cannot buy happiness, it can definitely encourage marvelous experiences. I have the fondest memories of traveling with my parents to Canada, San Diego, Europe, New Orleans and cabins up north. While the hotels were rarely glamorous and half of our meals were comprised of homemade picnics, my mom encouraged smalls indulgences, big adventures and embracing other lifestyles. My dad almost always had a shit fit about spending money on travel – telling us it was worthless and a horrible way to spend money – but we always knew it was due to his strong disdain for change and that even he would come back happier, lighter and more in tune with the important things in life. Cliched as it may be, travel does open your eyes to the possibilities in life. It forces you to embrace spontaneity and most importantly, it gives you a fresh perspective. It’s always healthy to get out of your little bubble. You see what is holding you back and also what makes home so great.

Mom Traveling in her 20’s

3.) Be genuine.

When I think of a one word definition of my mom, its genuine. The woman speaks her mind. Sometimes it gets her in trouble, but she has enough social graces and confidence to breeze past it. What makes her so pleasantly genuine? You always know where you stand and yet it never offends because she is not close minded towards your stance. She embraces her opinion but will always respect yours. She has taught me that to maintain the perfect balance of self-respect and thoughtfulness, you must stand your ground but accept when others won’t agree with grace. They might not be perfect but neither are you.

4.) Find humor in life and then spread it.

A very fortunate trait that my sisters and I happened to inherit  is my mom’s ability to find humor in humanity – our oddities, our endearing, bizarre traits. There is something so wonderful in the way my mom giggles at the little child busying themselves with the simplest task or the old man that is irrevocably grouchy because he just can’t help himself. It is the way she finds compassion in peoples faults and values their approach on life. I can absolutely attribute my sense of humor to my mother and I’m so grateful. Much of my families bonding is built of off harmless mocking of one another and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  Rather than rush through life with your headphones in and your sunglasses on – stop avoiding people and their unique, brief impacts on your life. Seek to understand and appreciate them. If nothing else, you’ll have a hilarious story to share.

Happy Girl

5.) Don’t waste time worrying. Spend time living.

During a particularly rough patch in life, my mom was my default therapist. She heard all the ugly and all the anguish. While it was a little of just me going in mental circles with no relief, there was a lot of her trying to get me to see that worry is a complete waste of life. It will still happen. Time will pass and you’ll look back and realize that your anguish was just a waste of precious life – precious time that you can’t get back. In a period of worry or stress, its feels so impossible to look paste the thick fog of anxiety but you have to realize that life will still happen. That day will still pass. You’ll still get older and all the times your worried about the what if’s are times that you could have spent just living it. Everyone says live in the moment and as simple and exhausted this phrase is, do it. Live in the moment. It’s a popular term for self-salvation because it works. Just enjoy it. Stop dissecting and just live. There is too much shit in life to hold onto the bad stuff. Absorb the good and forget the rest. 

The Present Day Beauty

Her Color.

Best Friendships

“Never trust a girl that doesn’t have girlfriends.” I’m sure you’ve heard this phrase before… I know why they say it too, because relationships between women are the most complex. While they can also be the most rewarding, they involve a perfect dance of consciousness, care, social graces, mutual respect and humor that isn’t quite the same as any relationship you’ll have with a guy whether its friendship or romance. I’ve always thought that if a girl cannot maintain a close relationship with another chick she’s probably too selfish because there is nothing more giving than a girl friendship – with men you can get away with being opportunistic, self-focused or independent. With girls you have to relate, being thoughtful of their lives/actions and show that you care, knowing that you’ll always get the same in return. There is a loyalty, selflessness and bond that is unparalleled.

My mom always told me that, while it’s important to love your guy, strongly maintain your friendships with your girlfriends. They’re irreplaceable and will give you things that romance can’t. As always, she is right. There is just something about girlfriends that serves a purpose that men can’t. As woman with a mission to stay happy and sane, it’s a vital necessity to give that kind of BFF love and take it too.

While I’ve been lucky to find a handful of truly spectacular (amazing) women to laugh, love and cry with – to inspire me, help me, humble me and pick me up when times are shit – there is one girl in particular that has won my heart as my truest friend, my soul sister, my PERSON. Let me introduce to you Miss Ashley Rose. 

 We met the first day of pre-college,  in our dorm hallway. Pretty instantly, we became each others family away from family, chosen sisters on a path to creating a truly idyllic 4 years of growth and education that would surpass any semester in STATS 101. We grew the most beautiful friendship two girls could ask for. Among the big best-friend milestones – the trips around the world, the moving in together, the throwing parties together, the merging our social lives- we tucked away little memories that built trust and love piece by piece.

For every woman out there, I hope you have an Ashley. A unique, enthusiastic, sunny chick that makes you feel ridiculous and liberated and happy all at once. A girl who lives off of flamboyance, sparkles, dreams and laughter. A friend who makes you want to tell her you love and appreciate her all the time and reciprocates that feeling.

One of the First Nights We Hung Out… Little Freshman Babies! Hello, Awkward Half-Hug

I make it very clear how highly I think of my darling friend, but the loveliest part is the bond we created. All throughout out college we stuck by one another… simultaneously, the most gregarious pair of social butterflies and obnoxiously joined at the hip. Perhaps that’s why we’ve always worked out, we never stifled one another, we only gave each other more reason to fly. Our bizarre little union was so intense that we cried and laughed our final day of living together because we knew that we’d have a better chance of finding relationships now that we didn’t have each other as often. Maybe we’d actually need boyfriends because we didn’t have our other half… Despite loving my boyfriend very, very much, my relationship with him would be the furthest cry from a “replacement” of my relationship with Ashley. The bond Ash and I have is not something you can replicate.

LoOkInG HaWt

I hope you have a girlfriend. It’s good to have a girlfriend. A pal who mocks life’s bullshit the way you do, who agrees with your bitching even when she knows you’re being dramatic. A girl that supports your less-than-perfect habits/humor and thinks you’re funny all the time and encourages another glass of wine or missing the train to take a taxi.

I hope you have a best girl friend. 

Best Friends

Necessities.

I feel ya bro… or Claude Monet. Flowers are a must for me too. There are a couple things that I promised my grown up self.

1.) You’ll have fresh flowers on your table every week.

2.) You’ll buy yourself an overpriced leather bag when you get your first big girl paycheck.

3.) You’ll do dinner parties.

While I’m still much too cheap to buy myself a purse that cost more than $100 and dinner parties are more like having a friend over and splitting a bottle of red then eventually getting take out, I have managed to keep my promise to myself with the fresh flowers thing. It doesn’t hurt that many of the stores in this city are jam packed with reasonably priced, stunning bouquets. I am kind of in flower heaven and for a weirdo like me, whose life goal is to be an old lady with a substantially bad ass garden, I’m pretty much living the dream.

Behold my weekly floral… 

$3.99 at Trader Joes? Don’t mind if I do…

This is a pricier set at a whopping $4.99 (SpLuRgE)

And these are far far out of my price range at $70+ They were a gift from the lover. He knows I kind of cringe with the typical red roses and really out did himself 😉 There is even cabbage in it! What the heck?! I could see the florist being like, yeah, we’re freakin organic and local, throw some cabbage in that bitch!

And so, in lieu of my true obsession with flowers, I dreamed up this summery flower dream. I want it in real life. For me. Maybe a potential project for when I finally decide to start sewing again.