Do you ever feel like you wake up each and every day trying to catch where you’re supposed to be | where you thought you’d be; yet, as your head hits the pillow you feel the same weight of exhaustion and failure with which you awoke?
Do you ever feel like happiness is a concept, not an experience? You’re constantly clocking in and out of life but never embracing all its parts? You get so beat down with the day to day you settle for what was once thought temporary. You begin to convince yourself that your dreams, those magical gems that gave your soul fire, they’re just that, dreams, not tangible things.
Stick with me here – and no, this is not an infomercial for some emotional support group or self-help book that I read last month, or even a judgment of your current state. It’s more a free flowing thought process that has been tapping my shoulder, whispering – what the hell are you doing with your life…do you even know…do you even see yourself? I arrive to this blank page with zero answers, however, this deserves a conversation even if a conclusion is far from reach.
This is what I know to be true based on my experience and my observation of many I know and love. Living a reactionary life is no life at all. If we are always reacting, we will never be in front of life, we will never dictate our futures; we will exist hopelessly. Be in charge, create your own path, take responsibility and ownership of your decisions. We all have ugliness and failures but, what if, just once, we viewed them as triumphs? Without them we would not grow, we would not evolve into better versions of ourselves. Obviously, we have to make that choice; choose to embrace the struggle, choose to walk up a mountain because, at the top, is a view we could never imagine. It’s a vast openness of possibility.
I am IN THIS right now – I do not speak from a superior place, this is not a life hack. This is hard work, it is dedication, it is stepping out into the unknown. If you fail…ok. So what. Get up. Try Again. Take the risk. Do not apologize for being bold, being honest, or being an individual. I know I have a unique personality – I am not saying be like me or that fear is for suckers. I am afraid all of the time, but I do not let it define me, I will not let it dictate my future. I want authenticity, I want joy, I want a life well-lived, one I can look back on and think – holy crap – at all times, my cup overflowed, I was true to myself, I fought hard for what I have, and I am loved greatly.
So…I leave you with this – because let’s be honest, I’m just dissecting this and applying it to my life – because it’s brilliant:
“If you want to live an authentic, meaningful life, you need to master the art of disappointing and upsetting others, hurting feelings, and living with the reality that some people just won’t like you. It may not be easy, but it’s essential if you want your life to reflect your deepest desires, values, and needs.” | Cheryl Richardson
Image | quote found via Pinterest
Interrupting our house updates (because nothing is happening) for words on, being known.
We are slowly watching This is Us – and by slowly, I mean, it takes me a bit to recover before the next episode…and by a bit, I mean, weeks at a time. Believe it or not, I am sensitive; I tend to absorb whatever feeling is being portrayed which is obviously the desired effect of exceptional acting. I don’t mind feeling things – I do like to control how I receive it. If I can almost guarantee something will make me cry, make my soul ache with sadness – no thank you. So, why the heck did I start watching this show?! Well, if I’m being honest, I have a thing for the actor who plays Jack – aka Milo Ventimiglia circa 2002/2003 when he played the bad boy to Rory’s good girl on Gilmore Girls. I own this fact; that character will always have a spot in my cold heart. Then he went and played Rocky’s son in what turned out to be a cheesy addition to the Rocky series, but it was truly perfect casting. (if I have to hear “Hey Lil Marie” one more time….) Anyways, this is not about him….Right?!
This show is blowing minds everywhere – the acting, writing, storytelling – it’s top tier. If there were enough time in a day I would elaborate on how William instantly stole my heart and how I love Randall just as much – those two slay me. The character development on this show is absolutely incredible! This requires a separate series of gushing and not what brings us here today. No, what has me fangirling is the story and portrayal of family. My whole life I was surrounded by big, loud families. You would think a family like that would cause the introvert inside to cower, retreat to a tree and read a book. Surprisingly, these people were a force by which I was controlled. I loved loved being around the chaos, the banter, and being an audience member to their love and dysfunction. When I was 17 I lived with one of my best friend’s family – it was a revolving door of kids, lacrosse sticks, instruments, debates, sarcasm, and laughter. A tornado of extroverts spinning around me as I sat quietly, taking it all in.
As I watch this show I can’t help but see all the reasons I love loud families – families that talk, laugh, play, and love being together. There is freedom facing a relationship without fear and the comfort in being known. This has been a theme for me this last year – I keep coming back to the idea – resting in it – craving the crap out of it. I am so very private – I trust few people with my heart, my true free self. It has very little to do with insecurity and more to do with me weighing their worthiness. I by no means think I am the most fantastic of people; that you would be SO honored to know me and love me and diiiiiine with me (said with an uptight British accent)…it’s more that I am flawed by introversion and self-preservation. I have always been choosy as to who sees me…really sees me. I desire authentic relationships; I want to be with people who talk about things – like REALLY talk about things. I value my time, I value the time of others and find it difficult to project anything ingenuine.
Being known doesn’t just mean someone knew that at 16 you may have worn your great grandfather’s clothes; thought make-up was for suckers, and bought a pair of steel toed Doc Martins two sizes too big because you couldn’t part with them. I would say, whoever that weirdo is, they are lucky if they have friends. Being known is not only one of the greatest parts of any relationship but also the most difficult and most jarring. It takes an incredible amount of vulnerability – to trust you are embraced for whatever “ugliness” you bring to the table; to know love is the foundation even when anger and hurt make everything blurry.
I believe there is an emptiness we carry when no one knows us, Humans are meant for relationship. We are hardwired to be a community, to carry each other’s burdens, to rise up when we see others falling. We were created to love and show kindness. I can’t think of a better way to be love, to be kind, to be strong than to just be yourself – no matter what that looks like.
I cannot express the gratitude and freedom I feel when around those who truly know me. I find joy in their honesty, their grace, and I am so thankful they love me. These are the ones who push through my silence and my distance; they seek me out when I try to disappear. They will have week-long conversations with me strictly through giphs (yes, this is real life people!). These people hold me as dearly as I hold on to them and that’s something…truly something. To exist with people who have seen you at your worst and stick around even if in fact, that wasn’t your worst; the beauty in this – this state of being known – is one of such purity…there is joy, there is honesty, and there is light – so much damn light.
happiest birthday lil bird
This year we have been busy, distracted, remaining in forward motion. Yesterday we received a flat package, smaller than a #10 envelope…with my out of control christmas shopping, I could not remember what I ordered. A small wooden bird shaped ornament fell on the counter, graced with the sweetest of names; along with it a note from one of my dearest friends. I was caught off guard – my vision blurred and all I could see was her perfect little nose, the points at the top of her lips; feel the grasp of her hand; see the flutter of her eyes; hear the beautiful sound of her breath. Although I think of her every single day – I rarely rest in the stillness of her memory. Most days there is no time for the tears that will come, the pit in my stomach, the swelling of my heart and the lump in my throat – it’s overwhelming. And so – when I am forced into this space by an unassuming piece of mail, I am thankful, because for a moment, I am with her again. I remember the joy she brought, the lessons she taught us about how life is MUCH bigger than work, a house, having all the “things”- We are blessed with friends and family who remember Miss Birdie’s impact and love us richly from afar.
We wish you all a blessed holiday season from our little corner of the world! We hope you find stillness this season and are surrounded by those you love most.
The last two weeks have been terrible. It was a snowball effect – every day got worse but it snuck up on me the way a zit does – the kind you think will easily pop, then you mess with it and it becomes this cystic monster threatening to take over your face. Each day you can take as it is – one day – we can all handle one day. Then, you wake up one morning and realize life is terribly overwhelming and you wonder, what the hell happened? Each day piled on the next is a bit much and this life, this being an adult thing…it’s the freaking worst. With all the terrible no good sadness happening around me, there is respite in focusing on the things that bring me Thanksgiving.
Micky – For every spontaneous dance party, no matter where we are, they’re the best. For watching me do yoga over and over and over and over again. For letting me talk over him because all I need to do is vent, then forgiving me for being incredibly rude and still making me a gin tonic. For being the better half of us in conflict, in trauma, and in our entire social life (which he swears I would not have without him). For letting me be quiet, no matter how long the silence lasts. On the rare occasion I cry – for sitting there and waiting for me to tell him I’m OK, that it’s OK to hug me – I promise not to start swinging. For the times I cannot cry, letting me know that’s OK too, and not discounting my hurt. For never putting himself above another human; for always loving, always caring. For helping me piece myself back together when torn down. For always knowing my heart is never as cold as it seems. For making me laugh day in and day out – without fail he is the funniest person I know.
My friends – the ones who trust me with their darkness and their light. For letting me share their burdens and for doing their best to help me carry mine.
Doctors who fight every damn day to cure cancer – who relinquish family and friends to stay in labs testing cells, loving patients, believing in LIFE.
The passionate hearts of those I love fighting for what they believe: whether boots on the ground protecting this great nation; dreamers believing change is possible, it just needs a voice; those who sacrifice time and space to care for the lost; and those who haven’t quite found their purpose but love greatly.
My family that is constant and far reaching.
My late grandma Anna Daisy who taught me to be me, no matter what, and to never, ever let anyone make me feel less than treasured.
A beautiful earth that never ceases to amaze me and a landscape that stirs the peace inside me.
For women who give things like grief and loss a voice far greater than I could hope to have.
Choreographed dances that make me look ridiculous yet bring me joy and the friends who enjoy being equally ridiculous.
A roof over our head, food on our table, blankets to keep us warm and puppy dogs to snuggle.
For Birdie, always, for Birdie.
I have paid little attention to our current election – cue judgmental gasps. I naturally shy away, or not so shyly, walk away when I feel bullied or demanded into anything. So much of the last year has been a constant assault of:
You have to! It’s your duty! You’re un-American if you don’t! It’s a privilege! || He’s a racist and hates women! She’s a criminal and a liar!
I don’t have to list the rest because each of you have seen and heard the same pollution on TV, Facebook, Instagram, magazine covers, church sermons…etc., it’s out of control.
My heart breaks for America – not because a man or woman may be elected who may be wrong for our great nation. My heart breaks because this popularity contest has ruined relationships, those between sisters and brothers, parents and children and the closest of friends. It’s created a chasm between the rich and poor, white and black, Muslim and Christian. It has broken the very people it claims to serve and protect. The conspiracy theorist in me would believe this to be deliberate, however, we choose our reactions. We dictate our behaviors – no one has forced us into this mindset of hate and fear. They may spoon feed the ammunition, but we choose to eat it up without a second thought.
Let’s not forget – it is just a woman. It is just a man; both flawed and broken human beings themselves. A woman and a man who, by no means, can save anyone. What is this power they have been given? They carry all your hopes and dreams and expectations ? They are no better than you or I. Our eternity does not belong to them.
We need to love one another better. We need to love ourselves LESS. We need to stop this madness, this rhetoric laced with hate and entitlement. We are no better than our fellow man/woman/race/religion – we are each blessed with one precious life; our greatest duty is to love and respect each other. Hug your friends and family, mend broken relationships and be kind to everyone. The world will not implode today, but if it did, would you be ok with the state of your life and relationships? Would you be proud of the way you treated your fellow American these last few months?