Allow me to ellaborate.
I've spent the last year "finding" myself. But I think, in reality, the saying goes true and I was actually creating myself. I found bits of who I used to be, but I burried most of them. With beautiful little ceremonies. Then I opened myself to the universe and it let itself in. One unrequited love, one travel, one new friend, one conquered fear, one written page, one phone call home, one email, one hug, one moment at a time.
It began in Peru. I would not be who I am if I had not ((literally)) shoved myself out the door and onto that plane. And I learned so much on those cobbled streets. They molded my feet and, as we all know, once you set the feet straight, the rest will follow ((The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe - incase you didn't know)). Peru, Ecuador, Maple Valley, New York City, Washington DC, Barcelona, Italy, Oregon, Vermont - these places changed my life. They changed me. I am finally being actualized, becoming who I was meant to be. And it feels good. It feels healthy. It feels real.
But it wasn't the places that brought me to where I am. It wasn't the train tickets or the plane tickets, the trekking or the hitch hiking, the jobs or the volunteerwork. It was the people. It was Wendee on the swingset before I left for Peru. It was Christian, Mariana, Rolf, Raul, Fernand, Magaly, Lizb, Mel, Kelsey, Will, Coco, Frank, Anka, Matt, Drew, Emily, Casey, Ella. It was Jesus, Tao, Geoff, Jaz, Cody, Elle, Jorge, Cristin, Pepe, Gabriel. It was Bob, Gosia, Ziiad, Han June, Topher, Mateo, Diego, Paul. It was Javena, Eda, Serena, Dario, Marcello, Consuela, Altea, Giorggio, Stefania, all the rowing moms, Maryanne, Lorenzo, Oto, Toby, Carolina, Meme, Edoardo. It was Pelle, Norm, Max, Jesse, Fabian. It was Gma Sue, Gpa Paul, Kelly, Anna, Paul, Mike, Jenny, Jacob, Nolan. It was Boppy, PopPops, Melynda, Carlene, Kara, Stetchy, Scooter, Jessica, Jason, Harrison, Jackson, Carter, Diane, Tom, Louise, Pascal, Rory, Maddy, Pammy, Derek, Bubba, Frank, Laura, Martin. It was all the people I didn't mention. It was my brothers. It was my parents. But most of all?
e2 = ama
e2 ((e-squared)) is Enzo and Eliza. Ama means love, but also stands for Amedeo, Marcello, Antonio. This family brought me back to life. Enzo wanted to adopt me just 2 months into knowing me. Eliza became a best and most wonderful friend whom I spent every minute of every day with, you gotta have a pretty good relationship for that. And the boysies? Oh. The boysies. They became the air I breathed, the reasons for every emotion, the lights that lit even the darkest and coldest days of winter. I became... no, I'll stop there. I just became. I was. I am. I became.
Today? Today I watched them pull out of a driveway in a car I had not double checked. With bags I didn't know the exact contents of. I don't know when they plan eat or what they plan to eat. I don't know if there are three sets of everything and extra three sets of everything. I watched my adopted dad, my best friend, and the 3 little lights of my life drive away without knowing what time the plane lands in Italy or exactly who will be waiting for them in San Miniato. I lost 5 ridiculous chunks of myself. My heart is still trying to recover, like "What the! - ohmygracious! - can't breath! - I am missing a good 5/10 of myself! That's a whole half! Not just a piece or a hole - MORON!" I'm breathing slowly.
I don't know what is next for me. Have I ever? But I do know, I am going back to Italy. Those people, that family - are my people, my family. They are a part of me. Whether I make it until this evening or next year is the real question, but I will be going home to them. Home.
I can't... express what I want to. So I'll just say, thank you.
Thank you so, so desperately much. I couldn't have done any of this without you. Thank you.
30 August 2010
25 August 2010
The Neverland
I wish I had a superhero cape, then I would never get sick. Ever see a Marvel character take a sick day? I should think not! - I rest my case.
"I'm not young enough to know everything."
If you knew, without the use of the internet, who said those words - I shall make you cookies. If not, well I might make you cookies anyhow for looking it up. I have spent the past several days attempting to find the words to express how I have been feeling. Instead, I found myself lying sick in bed all day - no fun. I don't know about you, but for me being sick makes all things tedious. I can't read for too long or watch films or listen to music or even sleep without it seeming to take large quantities of effort and patience. What came from that was this: childhood.
As I lay obscure on my bed, I ignored the novels I had been reading and picked up my beaten copy of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. I read it, while sipping a cup of tea with a large spoonful of honey idling in it, as I remembered it being read to me. I took no deeper meaning, but instead just enjoyed the way the words played in my mind. My own imagery bursting forth from my imagination, I read some bits aloud to myself, giggled when characters made witty remarks, and actually pulled the covers up around me like I was in a tent. I found myself very much in Narnia with the Pevensie children. From there I picked up the entire collection of Winne the Pooh Tales and tromped through the Hundred Acre Woods with Christopher Robin and his silly old bear. Then I got myself another cup of tea, honey still left on my spoon, and watched the 2003 Peter Pan ((brilliant film)). My little childhood soul soared far above and between into spaces I had forgotten. It was good to refind my perpetual 6 year old self. "Let go, Malia, let go." It called, "There is grass out here, waiting to stain your knees whenever you stop feeling like crumbs in a dustbin." Oh the joys! of being a child.
--
You know when you take a Polaroid picture and it prints itself out and you have to wait a minute ((or shake it shake it shake it like a...)) and the photo slowly becomes clearer and clearer? And sometimes you can see part of the image so you, very informed like, tell someone what the blurry item is - only to give yourself a mental punch in the throat two seconds later because it wasn't that at all? Sometimes I feel that way about my life. I'm looking at a Polaroid I took and I say to people, "Hey, that's the whateverwhatever there in the corner!" And everyone says "Oooh, lovely." Then I give the photo another good shake and look again only to find the whateverwhatever is actually a somethingsomething. Dope! That Malia character has done it again!
Just be. Just BE. JUST be. just be. JUST BE... What do I mean by "just be?" Ah, well! I! Err. Uhm. Well. Let's see here... what do I mean? I think I mean acceptance. Some mushball of acceptance and love. Not just of good or bad people, but of experiences, good or bad. And of emotions, good or bad. Of all things, good and bad. And acceptance doesn't mean passive acceptance, but rather a forward acceptance. Stepping forth before anyone asks and showing you accept this or that. And loving not in a passive or even passionate way, but an unconditional way. The kind of love that says and means "No Matter What." And you have to learn to just be. You have to practice. You're rolling your eyes, aren't you? Mental punch in the throat to you. It is a weird concept, to practice existing. But you have to start by accepting and loving yourself where you are. Wherever you are. Life gives you difficulties so you can appreciate the good things. "When the sky is darkest, you can see the stars" kinda thing. My Polaroid picture may need to be shaken again, so you can see the clearer picture, but I hope you get the meaning behind what I am trying to tell you. You don't need to be anything or anyone other than exactly who you are. Size, shape, color, belief - don't compare who you are to anyone else because you can't. There isn't anyone like you so how could they possibly be compared? It's like taking a peach and a Macbook and asking "I wonder which is better?" Well, better in what sense? Better at playing music - Macbook. Better tasting - peach ((well, I don't know that for a fact but I am going to assume a Macbook does not taste very pleasant)). Just be - whatever that mean, Malia.
Today I actually had a just-be-slap-in-the-face, believe it or not. You see, some time ago I made this list of "rules" for my life. They are things like "Squidge sand between your toes whenever possible," "tell people you love them," "live out of one bag," etc etc... in theory, sounds kind of cool, right? Well, in actuality it is epically cool - except one thing! I created these rules in order to break from the everyday rules written all around us and I forgot the pureness behind the idea. I started using my "rules" to fence off things I thought to be unhealthy or whatever, just as society has done it's "rules," and that made it less fun. The number one "rule" should be to not live by rules at all, merely guidelines and ideas. Take that, Ms Malialani. The world isn't polarized. It isn't blacks and whites or even greys. It is a multitude of colors, some of which we can't even catagorize and we shouldn't try. It isn't our place. We should, I should, just live in a way that makes us happiest and doesn't burden the happiness of others. Well, hullo new Polaroid.
Joy comes to all who seek it
with an open heart, open mind, open life
but misery shows the true nature, beauty
of that joy, through strife.
Light burns darkness, scalds pure
but would you have known
how lovely light were
had it not been for that dark?
There is no understanding
of how great! life is
for any of us still living.
For we know not death
nor it's equal
to show us the truth
of it's wonder!
G'night, dearlings, goodnight.
"I'm not young enough to know everything."
If you knew, without the use of the internet, who said those words - I shall make you cookies. If not, well I might make you cookies anyhow for looking it up. I have spent the past several days attempting to find the words to express how I have been feeling. Instead, I found myself lying sick in bed all day - no fun. I don't know about you, but for me being sick makes all things tedious. I can't read for too long or watch films or listen to music or even sleep without it seeming to take large quantities of effort and patience. What came from that was this: childhood.
As I lay obscure on my bed, I ignored the novels I had been reading and picked up my beaten copy of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. I read it, while sipping a cup of tea with a large spoonful of honey idling in it, as I remembered it being read to me. I took no deeper meaning, but instead just enjoyed the way the words played in my mind. My own imagery bursting forth from my imagination, I read some bits aloud to myself, giggled when characters made witty remarks, and actually pulled the covers up around me like I was in a tent. I found myself very much in Narnia with the Pevensie children. From there I picked up the entire collection of Winne the Pooh Tales and tromped through the Hundred Acre Woods with Christopher Robin and his silly old bear. Then I got myself another cup of tea, honey still left on my spoon, and watched the 2003 Peter Pan ((brilliant film)). My little childhood soul soared far above and between into spaces I had forgotten. It was good to refind my perpetual 6 year old self. "Let go, Malia, let go." It called, "There is grass out here, waiting to stain your knees whenever you stop feeling like crumbs in a dustbin." Oh the joys! of being a child.
--
You know when you take a Polaroid picture and it prints itself out and you have to wait a minute ((or shake it shake it shake it like a...)) and the photo slowly becomes clearer and clearer? And sometimes you can see part of the image so you, very informed like, tell someone what the blurry item is - only to give yourself a mental punch in the throat two seconds later because it wasn't that at all? Sometimes I feel that way about my life. I'm looking at a Polaroid I took and I say to people, "Hey, that's the whateverwhatever there in the corner!" And everyone says "Oooh, lovely." Then I give the photo another good shake and look again only to find the whateverwhatever is actually a somethingsomething. Dope! That Malia character has done it again!
Just be. Just BE. JUST be. just be. JUST BE... What do I mean by "just be?" Ah, well! I! Err. Uhm. Well. Let's see here... what do I mean? I think I mean acceptance. Some mushball of acceptance and love. Not just of good or bad people, but of experiences, good or bad. And of emotions, good or bad. Of all things, good and bad. And acceptance doesn't mean passive acceptance, but rather a forward acceptance. Stepping forth before anyone asks and showing you accept this or that. And loving not in a passive or even passionate way, but an unconditional way. The kind of love that says and means "No Matter What." And you have to learn to just be. You have to practice. You're rolling your eyes, aren't you? Mental punch in the throat to you. It is a weird concept, to practice existing. But you have to start by accepting and loving yourself where you are. Wherever you are. Life gives you difficulties so you can appreciate the good things. "When the sky is darkest, you can see the stars" kinda thing. My Polaroid picture may need to be shaken again, so you can see the clearer picture, but I hope you get the meaning behind what I am trying to tell you. You don't need to be anything or anyone other than exactly who you are. Size, shape, color, belief - don't compare who you are to anyone else because you can't. There isn't anyone like you so how could they possibly be compared? It's like taking a peach and a Macbook and asking "I wonder which is better?" Well, better in what sense? Better at playing music - Macbook. Better tasting - peach ((well, I don't know that for a fact but I am going to assume a Macbook does not taste very pleasant)). Just be - whatever that mean, Malia.
Today I actually had a just-be-slap-in-the-face, believe it or not. You see, some time ago I made this list of "rules" for my life. They are things like "Squidge sand between your toes whenever possible," "tell people you love them," "live out of one bag," etc etc... in theory, sounds kind of cool, right? Well, in actuality it is epically cool - except one thing! I created these rules in order to break from the everyday rules written all around us and I forgot the pureness behind the idea. I started using my "rules" to fence off things I thought to be unhealthy or whatever, just as society has done it's "rules," and that made it less fun. The number one "rule" should be to not live by rules at all, merely guidelines and ideas. Take that, Ms Malialani. The world isn't polarized. It isn't blacks and whites or even greys. It is a multitude of colors, some of which we can't even catagorize and we shouldn't try. It isn't our place. We should, I should, just live in a way that makes us happiest and doesn't burden the happiness of others. Well, hullo new Polaroid.
Joy comes to all who seek it
with an open heart, open mind, open life
but misery shows the true nature, beauty
of that joy, through strife.
Light burns darkness, scalds pure
but would you have known
how lovely light were
had it not been for that dark?
There is no understanding
of how great! life is
for any of us still living.
For we know not death
nor it's equal
to show us the truth
of it's wonder!
G'night, dearlings, goodnight.
20 August 2010
Dirty Little Secret
"Eughhh. What's your secret, anyway??" The question was a half exasperated half admiring one, posed to me by one of the several youngsters I have adopted as siblings. At this point in the conversation I had a mouth full of California burger ((something I would have shuddered at even a year and a half ago)) and I am fairly sure I cocked my head to the right like a dog does when you say something it doesn't understand. And I didn't understand. What was what secret? I don't have secrets anymore. Nothing that isn't open for public speculation ((and, often, ridicule)). My new little sister, asked again. Laughing in a happy sort of frustration with me, "How do you do it? You're so calm and confident and, like, nothing phases you. You're beautiful. You don't even try and you're, like, perfect. I wish I had even half of your personality." I do believe I actually snorted avacado, bun, burger, and melted swiss cheese into my nose from the back of my throat at this point. Not a pretty spectacle - let me tell you.
Let us rewind.
I'm not going to go into the rollercoaster that was my life or even give you a summary, I might have even 6 months ago, but I'm not that person anymore. If you want details you will have to ask me about them in person at a later date. Who I was, what I went through, it doesn't define me anymore. Not even close. But I can tell you that the words "calm," "confident," and "perfect" were not in my vocabulary. I was like every other teenage girl. I was insecure with poor self image and self esteem, a constantly diminishing self-worth, second guessing every move I made and every move anyone else made. I masked most of these things by being loud. I shot for the position of "little sister" or "the cute one" because the standards were lower and I didn't think I would ever live up to all the people telling me I had "unlimited potential" or that I was "so intelligent" or "beautiful." I didn't want to be left out or left behind, and I certainly didn't want anyone to know I didn't want to be left out or left behind.
Back to the future.
It came as a shock, not so much to hear those words from her, but to realize that for the first time in my life? I believed them too. I was finally someone worth looking up to, I had earned my label as a Big Sister. Now now, I am not perfect. And I hope to never be. Perfect would be boring. But I am probably what I would call calm and confident. Life doesn't phase me. I am beautiful and I don't try ((in the way that my little sister meant)). So, you're all probably wondering, what did I say in response?
Two ((or something)) days later.
I am sitting an arm chair in a living room that is not my own, conversing far too late in the evening with two more young ladies I have adopted as little sisters. One says she thinks they need to take a page out of the book that is Malia in returning to High School this year. I laugh. It's funny to think I am now a book. It's even funnier because I am actually picturing myself as a thick, leatherbound book - you know, like in The Pagemaster! Anyhow, they continue to sing my praises in the same manner my other little sister had several days earlier and I can feel my head cocking every so slightly to the right again. What is it with these kids? I will go ahead and be self promoting enough to say I'm a pretty darn awesome human being, but so are these girls in front of me. The are certainly more put together than I was at their age. Indeed, they are more put together that I was probably a year ago ((I would say even 3 months ago, but the truth is I was putting the pieces together then and I don't think these two are there yet)).
Talking to my friend and boss earlier today, actually, I was discussing my disbelief that these girls were so adament in being what they thought they needed to be. I mentioned that in all the "Self Help" books for teenagers in the world, not one of them says "Oi! Just freaking BE!" My boss laughed and said "You know, this Spring I was looking for one of those books for you." I had to laugh and thought to myself, "Yah, Malia. Don't get too cocky in telling people to just be. It's difficult! Remember what a hard time you yourself had with it!"
So what is my dirty little secret? I'll tell you.
I don't have one.
I had to suffer and flounder and groan and moan and fall for all the tricks of this world just like everyone else. How did I get to be here then? What adversity did I finally conquer and how did I accomplish that? What success brought me to this point? Was it money, sex, or the right color lipgloss? When did I become this calm, confident, beautiful, intelligent, nearly perfect ((HA)) human being? Err... your guess is as good as mine. But I can tell you I didn't do it in "5 Easy Steps!" or even 100 - and it sure as rain wasn't easy. You're probably thinking, "BS, she's just holding out so the rest of us will suffer! Beauty equals pain or whatever." The latter is true, the former is not. But I can tell you my guestimate.
Firstly, I started to stop caring about what I looked like. And ohmygracious that was a long and tedious process. It's not that I stopped taking showers or caring about my appearance. It's just that I stopped comparing what I looked like to a magazine or a model or a movie star. I stopped looking like anyone else because I suddenly looked like me. I took off all the makeup, I wore what I thought was comfortable instead of what was trendy, and I stopped caring about the attentions of men. Ladies, if a guy buys a drink in a bar? It is not because he likes your personality. And I know your excuse "Catch him with your looks then win him with your heart" ??? Please do not dumb yourself down to actually believing that. A guy who is actually worth it is one you feel comfortable leaving the house in slippers, sweatpants, his jacket, without makeup, and without a shower. - but that is an entirely different rant.
Secondly, although I suppose it should be first, I reprioritized. I took my life and shoved it into one bag, which happened long before the looks thing, but I'm labeling it Two of my "5-Easy Steps." And you don't have to shove your life into a bag, but the concept is pure. Get rid of your CRAP. I have this rule, I have to throw something out for everything I purchase. Sure, I liked that TShirt, but I just bought this one and I like it better. If only a molecule better. You do not need 25 pairs of shoes, 18 pairs of jeans, 94 tshirts, and so much lingerie from Victoria's Secret you need two drawers. I don't care who you are - you don't. But reprioritizing is more complex than throwing out the v-neck you never wear. Me? I cut off all my hair. Two feet of beautiful flowing brunette locks, gone in 60 seconds. You don't have to cut your hair, for me it was about vainity. My hair was something I cherished to an unhealthy degree. Get rid of your pride, your vainity, and your crap. That's step two.
Next, I forced myself to do little things for me. I started taking care of the person in the mirror. Saying things like "Oh hi, self. You look beautiful today." Or giving myself a mental punch in the throat whenever I passed a mirror or looked at a picture and thought I was fat or awkward or just plain ugly. I still do it. Mental punches in the throat are useful. Telling yourself you are worth it? Also useful, despite the cliche and tackiness of it. You're laughing, aren't you? I'm sending you a mental punch in the throat for that, just so you know. Little things, are what make the bigger things. Appreciate the grass beneath your feet. The sky is awfully blue, isn't it? And hey, check that sunset! It sounds dopey, and it is. But the truth is, you probably don't appreciate yourself or the world around you. What do you like to do? Go do it. Once a day, once a week, once a month - just do it, Nike! Me? I like to write ((and annoy you people with new blog posts)). I also like to play the piano, so I touch piano keys whenever I remember to. I love to read, so I am reading ((like 9 books a week, frightening)). Mostly, it is a practice thing. You have to practice taking time for you. As Americans and citizens of developed countries? We suck at this. Royally. We work and we party and then we capitalize on both. We hate our jobs but work relentless hours and ridiculous overtime to make a buck that we can spend on drinking until we black out or travelling to places we can drop large sums of cash on to see the way the "other half" lives - gee, fun. And if you're not doing either of those things, you're saving the money in a high interest rate account to use when you turn 55 and social security doles out ((if SS is still around)), so you can finally relax. Dude, what is wrong with that picture? Everything.
Lastly, personally, I talk to God and encourage everyone else to do the same. Grace is an amazing thing. But what you believe is between you and Him. I'm always here to hash it out with believers and nonbelievers alike, but I can't tell the general public why God is amazing. It's something that comes on an individual level. Just know, he is. Amazing, that is.
Other than that? I did nothing. So I guess, it's really only 4-Easy Steps. Maybe I should write that book. What it boils down to is this: Just be. You don't need materialism to define you. You don't need vainity to define you. You don't need others to define you. Just be. Let yourself be. And if you don't understand that, you're not ready to. But I can tell you, you're in for a long and hard run. You don't need to travel the world. You don't need to pray or give a million different ways. You don't need to seek answers from the rest of the world. I'm sure all those things helped, the first certainly helped me. But the truth is that it's you. You know how to just be you. Maybe not on the surface because it's so clouded by all the other crap, but you do know. You are you. So just be you.
My dirty little secret, is just to be.
Let us rewind.
I'm not going to go into the rollercoaster that was my life or even give you a summary, I might have even 6 months ago, but I'm not that person anymore. If you want details you will have to ask me about them in person at a later date. Who I was, what I went through, it doesn't define me anymore. Not even close. But I can tell you that the words "calm," "confident," and "perfect" were not in my vocabulary. I was like every other teenage girl. I was insecure with poor self image and self esteem, a constantly diminishing self-worth, second guessing every move I made and every move anyone else made. I masked most of these things by being loud. I shot for the position of "little sister" or "the cute one" because the standards were lower and I didn't think I would ever live up to all the people telling me I had "unlimited potential" or that I was "so intelligent" or "beautiful." I didn't want to be left out or left behind, and I certainly didn't want anyone to know I didn't want to be left out or left behind.
Back to the future.
It came as a shock, not so much to hear those words from her, but to realize that for the first time in my life? I believed them too. I was finally someone worth looking up to, I had earned my label as a Big Sister. Now now, I am not perfect. And I hope to never be. Perfect would be boring. But I am probably what I would call calm and confident. Life doesn't phase me. I am beautiful and I don't try ((in the way that my little sister meant)). So, you're all probably wondering, what did I say in response?
Two ((or something)) days later.
I am sitting an arm chair in a living room that is not my own, conversing far too late in the evening with two more young ladies I have adopted as little sisters. One says she thinks they need to take a page out of the book that is Malia in returning to High School this year. I laugh. It's funny to think I am now a book. It's even funnier because I am actually picturing myself as a thick, leatherbound book - you know, like in The Pagemaster! Anyhow, they continue to sing my praises in the same manner my other little sister had several days earlier and I can feel my head cocking every so slightly to the right again. What is it with these kids? I will go ahead and be self promoting enough to say I'm a pretty darn awesome human being, but so are these girls in front of me. The are certainly more put together than I was at their age. Indeed, they are more put together that I was probably a year ago ((I would say even 3 months ago, but the truth is I was putting the pieces together then and I don't think these two are there yet)).
Talking to my friend and boss earlier today, actually, I was discussing my disbelief that these girls were so adament in being what they thought they needed to be. I mentioned that in all the "Self Help" books for teenagers in the world, not one of them says "Oi! Just freaking BE!" My boss laughed and said "You know, this Spring I was looking for one of those books for you." I had to laugh and thought to myself, "Yah, Malia. Don't get too cocky in telling people to just be. It's difficult! Remember what a hard time you yourself had with it!"
So what is my dirty little secret? I'll tell you.
I don't have one.
I had to suffer and flounder and groan and moan and fall for all the tricks of this world just like everyone else. How did I get to be here then? What adversity did I finally conquer and how did I accomplish that? What success brought me to this point? Was it money, sex, or the right color lipgloss? When did I become this calm, confident, beautiful, intelligent, nearly perfect ((HA)) human being? Err... your guess is as good as mine. But I can tell you I didn't do it in "5 Easy Steps!" or even 100 - and it sure as rain wasn't easy. You're probably thinking, "BS, she's just holding out so the rest of us will suffer! Beauty equals pain or whatever." The latter is true, the former is not. But I can tell you my guestimate.
Firstly, I started to stop caring about what I looked like. And ohmygracious that was a long and tedious process. It's not that I stopped taking showers or caring about my appearance. It's just that I stopped comparing what I looked like to a magazine or a model or a movie star. I stopped looking like anyone else because I suddenly looked like me. I took off all the makeup, I wore what I thought was comfortable instead of what was trendy, and I stopped caring about the attentions of men. Ladies, if a guy buys a drink in a bar? It is not because he likes your personality. And I know your excuse "Catch him with your looks then win him with your heart" ??? Please do not dumb yourself down to actually believing that. A guy who is actually worth it is one you feel comfortable leaving the house in slippers, sweatpants, his jacket, without makeup, and without a shower. - but that is an entirely different rant.
Secondly, although I suppose it should be first, I reprioritized. I took my life and shoved it into one bag, which happened long before the looks thing, but I'm labeling it Two of my "5-Easy Steps." And you don't have to shove your life into a bag, but the concept is pure. Get rid of your CRAP. I have this rule, I have to throw something out for everything I purchase. Sure, I liked that TShirt, but I just bought this one and I like it better. If only a molecule better. You do not need 25 pairs of shoes, 18 pairs of jeans, 94 tshirts, and so much lingerie from Victoria's Secret you need two drawers. I don't care who you are - you don't. But reprioritizing is more complex than throwing out the v-neck you never wear. Me? I cut off all my hair. Two feet of beautiful flowing brunette locks, gone in 60 seconds. You don't have to cut your hair, for me it was about vainity. My hair was something I cherished to an unhealthy degree. Get rid of your pride, your vainity, and your crap. That's step two.
Next, I forced myself to do little things for me. I started taking care of the person in the mirror. Saying things like "Oh hi, self. You look beautiful today." Or giving myself a mental punch in the throat whenever I passed a mirror or looked at a picture and thought I was fat or awkward or just plain ugly. I still do it. Mental punches in the throat are useful. Telling yourself you are worth it? Also useful, despite the cliche and tackiness of it. You're laughing, aren't you? I'm sending you a mental punch in the throat for that, just so you know. Little things, are what make the bigger things. Appreciate the grass beneath your feet. The sky is awfully blue, isn't it? And hey, check that sunset! It sounds dopey, and it is. But the truth is, you probably don't appreciate yourself or the world around you. What do you like to do? Go do it. Once a day, once a week, once a month - just do it, Nike! Me? I like to write ((and annoy you people with new blog posts)). I also like to play the piano, so I touch piano keys whenever I remember to. I love to read, so I am reading ((like 9 books a week, frightening)). Mostly, it is a practice thing. You have to practice taking time for you. As Americans and citizens of developed countries? We suck at this. Royally. We work and we party and then we capitalize on both. We hate our jobs but work relentless hours and ridiculous overtime to make a buck that we can spend on drinking until we black out or travelling to places we can drop large sums of cash on to see the way the "other half" lives - gee, fun. And if you're not doing either of those things, you're saving the money in a high interest rate account to use when you turn 55 and social security doles out ((if SS is still around)), so you can finally relax. Dude, what is wrong with that picture? Everything.
Lastly, personally, I talk to God and encourage everyone else to do the same. Grace is an amazing thing. But what you believe is between you and Him. I'm always here to hash it out with believers and nonbelievers alike, but I can't tell the general public why God is amazing. It's something that comes on an individual level. Just know, he is. Amazing, that is.
Other than that? I did nothing. So I guess, it's really only 4-Easy Steps. Maybe I should write that book. What it boils down to is this: Just be. You don't need materialism to define you. You don't need vainity to define you. You don't need others to define you. Just be. Let yourself be. And if you don't understand that, you're not ready to. But I can tell you, you're in for a long and hard run. You don't need to travel the world. You don't need to pray or give a million different ways. You don't need to seek answers from the rest of the world. I'm sure all those things helped, the first certainly helped me. But the truth is that it's you. You know how to just be you. Maybe not on the surface because it's so clouded by all the other crap, but you do know. You are you. So just be you.
My dirty little secret, is just to be.
18 August 2010
Diseased
So, I have this disease.
"Gee, what kind of disease, Malia?"
Well, it's kind of embarassing really. And it's rather hard for me to fess up to, especially in this modern world where everyone is constantly abusing, changing, and reshaping this disease. But, I've decided it's time to come clean about it.
"Okay, M. Well, what is it?"
Love.
"... Love?"
Yah, love. And let me tell you why.
I have a tendency to fall in love. All the time. And I am not just talking romantic love - I fall in love everyday with everyone. There are very few people in this world I wouldn't take a bullet for. I walk around loving on clouds and green grass. I love people who wear neat clothes, like genuinely love them. I compliment strangers and admire passerbys. I love people because they laugh loudly or break into dance randomly. I love people because they enjoyed a movie or novel I did. Because we both ordered the same coffee or even because we ordered different coffees! I just love them - all of them.
Romantically? I am a sucker. I see every guy for their full potential and love them unconditionally. Not inspite of their flaws, but because of them. I get butterflies easily. I love all the typical forehead kisses, hair brushing, random smiling nonsense and I eat it up. Now, I'm not constantly in a relationship and I take bs from no man - but it takes little to no time for me to go from "like" to "love." I believe wholeheartedly in soulmates, true love, and even happily ever after and I don't mind being a little heart broken. I know it's part of the proccess of life. I am overly devoted and loyal to whomever I happen to be seeing and I fight for that person. I enjoy every little thing and love them all the more because of it.
Friendship? I am, again, a sucker. I have a tendency to give more than I get. I'm pretty naive and like to see the best in everyone. I want them to know their loved and I will ((and have)) literally cross oceans for people. I can't stand to see unhappiness in anyone at all and befriend even the most suspicious and peculiar characters. After befriending a rather sketch guy outside of Madison Square Garden who introduced himself by asking if I had any dope ((whether he meant Marijuana or something stronger, I'll never know)), I was swept away by a friend who had been looking for me and asked ((with his arm firmly wrapped around my shoulders like you might do with a small child)) "Does it ever occur to you that some people shouldn't be made friends with?" My immediate response - "No." And yah, I realize that there are bad people in this world but I don't think that means you should neccessarily write them off completely. I had a lovely conversation with the kid who asked me for dope, he called himself "Gatsby" after his favorite book ((The Great Gatsby)) - so he can't have been a complete tosser.
Now, it's true that in earlier years I could have done better. Much better. Not only in loving but in showing the love I did feel. But this is now and I have laid to rest the ghost of who I once was. Love is my disease. It has infected every cell, every molecule of who I am. It courses through my veins more freely than blood. It consumes me. I love everything from sand between my toes to the sky above my head. I love the broken man as much as I love the Dalai Lama. I love Hawaii to Pakistan. Every worm and each whale. Each and every inbetween there ever was, is, or will be - I love. And oh! how I love it all!
i love
violently
unconditionally
wordlessly
silently
forever
wholly
fiercely
independently
courageously
enthusiastically
ferociously
beautifully
softly
strongly
passionately
heartily
merrily
wonderfully
fearfully
fearlessly
happily
fantastically
amazedly
joyfully
!!!
I love when I am exhausted and when I am broken. I love when I am bright and new. I love when I am sleepy. When I am awake, when I am reading or conversing. I love when I am distracted or angry. I love when I am happy and silly. I love when I am full. I love when I am empty.
I love.
It is something I have fought for a long while. Something I have had difficulty dealing with and understanding. It's hard to be the woman who loves everything. Especially because, not everything will love me back. Indeed, most things do not - will not - love me back. But holding that love back, letting it merely sit inside me with no outlet, is far more painful than loving.
It is, in fact, heart wrenching and devestating to watch that love just wander aimlessly inside me until it dies a slow and horrid death with no one or nothing to be sent onto. You cannot collect love. You cannot save it inside of yourself to keep. Love must be given away and it must be given freely and often. Sometimes you will find that you have given every ounce of love you have without recieving any and still people demand it from you, and you must obey. You must give love unreservedly and without question. You must allow it to not only consume you, but to infect others. You must let it spread like wildfire among all those around you. Because this is a disease that kills only when you are selfish with it. When you claim it as your own and refuse to let it run wild.
The death is a brutal one. First the love withers into bitterness and anger, because you have refused to share it. Next it sends you a feverish hatred, not only of you for your selfishness but also for the love others are spreading. Jealousy and hate addle your mind until you no longer recognize truth or hope. It is slow, sneaking, and deadly. And the only cure, is more love.
Love is my disease. And I am choosing to let it take me. All of me. And I will let you in on a little something, I have every intention of infecting each and every one of you. Better hope you've all had your shots, kids.
Love,
"Gee, what kind of disease, Malia?"
Well, it's kind of embarassing really. And it's rather hard for me to fess up to, especially in this modern world where everyone is constantly abusing, changing, and reshaping this disease. But, I've decided it's time to come clean about it.
"Okay, M. Well, what is it?"
Love.
"... Love?"
Yah, love. And let me tell you why.
I have a tendency to fall in love. All the time. And I am not just talking romantic love - I fall in love everyday with everyone. There are very few people in this world I wouldn't take a bullet for. I walk around loving on clouds and green grass. I love people who wear neat clothes, like genuinely love them. I compliment strangers and admire passerbys. I love people because they laugh loudly or break into dance randomly. I love people because they enjoyed a movie or novel I did. Because we both ordered the same coffee or even because we ordered different coffees! I just love them - all of them.
Romantically? I am a sucker. I see every guy for their full potential and love them unconditionally. Not inspite of their flaws, but because of them. I get butterflies easily. I love all the typical forehead kisses, hair brushing, random smiling nonsense and I eat it up. Now, I'm not constantly in a relationship and I take bs from no man - but it takes little to no time for me to go from "like" to "love." I believe wholeheartedly in soulmates, true love, and even happily ever after and I don't mind being a little heart broken. I know it's part of the proccess of life. I am overly devoted and loyal to whomever I happen to be seeing and I fight for that person. I enjoy every little thing and love them all the more because of it.
Friendship? I am, again, a sucker. I have a tendency to give more than I get. I'm pretty naive and like to see the best in everyone. I want them to know their loved and I will ((and have)) literally cross oceans for people. I can't stand to see unhappiness in anyone at all and befriend even the most suspicious and peculiar characters. After befriending a rather sketch guy outside of Madison Square Garden who introduced himself by asking if I had any dope ((whether he meant Marijuana or something stronger, I'll never know)), I was swept away by a friend who had been looking for me and asked ((with his arm firmly wrapped around my shoulders like you might do with a small child)) "Does it ever occur to you that some people shouldn't be made friends with?" My immediate response - "No." And yah, I realize that there are bad people in this world but I don't think that means you should neccessarily write them off completely. I had a lovely conversation with the kid who asked me for dope, he called himself "Gatsby" after his favorite book ((The Great Gatsby)) - so he can't have been a complete tosser.
Now, it's true that in earlier years I could have done better. Much better. Not only in loving but in showing the love I did feel. But this is now and I have laid to rest the ghost of who I once was. Love is my disease. It has infected every cell, every molecule of who I am. It courses through my veins more freely than blood. It consumes me. I love everything from sand between my toes to the sky above my head. I love the broken man as much as I love the Dalai Lama. I love Hawaii to Pakistan. Every worm and each whale. Each and every inbetween there ever was, is, or will be - I love. And oh! how I love it all!
i love
violently
unconditionally
wordlessly
silently
forever
wholly
fiercely
independently
courageously
enthusiastically
ferociously
beautifully
softly
strongly
passionately
heartily
merrily
wonderfully
fearfully
fearlessly
happily
fantastically
amazedly
joyfully
!!!
I love when I am exhausted and when I am broken. I love when I am bright and new. I love when I am sleepy. When I am awake, when I am reading or conversing. I love when I am distracted or angry. I love when I am happy and silly. I love when I am full. I love when I am empty.
I love.
It is something I have fought for a long while. Something I have had difficulty dealing with and understanding. It's hard to be the woman who loves everything. Especially because, not everything will love me back. Indeed, most things do not - will not - love me back. But holding that love back, letting it merely sit inside me with no outlet, is far more painful than loving.
It is, in fact, heart wrenching and devestating to watch that love just wander aimlessly inside me until it dies a slow and horrid death with no one or nothing to be sent onto. You cannot collect love. You cannot save it inside of yourself to keep. Love must be given away and it must be given freely and often. Sometimes you will find that you have given every ounce of love you have without recieving any and still people demand it from you, and you must obey. You must give love unreservedly and without question. You must allow it to not only consume you, but to infect others. You must let it spread like wildfire among all those around you. Because this is a disease that kills only when you are selfish with it. When you claim it as your own and refuse to let it run wild.
The death is a brutal one. First the love withers into bitterness and anger, because you have refused to share it. Next it sends you a feverish hatred, not only of you for your selfishness but also for the love others are spreading. Jealousy and hate addle your mind until you no longer recognize truth or hope. It is slow, sneaking, and deadly. And the only cure, is more love.
Love is my disease. And I am choosing to let it take me. All of me. And I will let you in on a little something, I have every intention of infecting each and every one of you. Better hope you've all had your shots, kids.
Love,
17 August 2010
Autumn Days
The leaves are changing in the trees. Being here in Vermont (aside from Maine, possibly the most deciduous region in America - you've all seen postcards or Earth or something)), I can see it happening slowly but surely. Much earlier than it begins in Washington ((it doesn't at all in Hawaii, go figure)). Change is seeping in through the cracks, regardless of what we might do or want, it comes.
And the leaves aren't the only thing moving towards something new, I am.
"Putamadre, where is the third?!" This phrase has lived with me these last 9 months and I realized just last night that I will only get a chance to curse sets of twos ((or, Lord forbid, singles)) for a mere two weeks more. The triplets will return to Italy on the 30th while I will head West, in the opposite direction. I've taken to cuddling and smelling and eskimo kissing more than ever. Just taking them in as much as I can. I will see them again, that much I know, but they have become a part of me and to lose that part is going to be difficult...
Apparently, some change has made me completely child accessible. But not just children ages 0-10, no no no no no. Ages 0-99. I am suddenly this person who stops on the street to admire children playing and then strike up a conversation with their parents only to have one of said children climb into my lap. I am now this person who goes on day dates or gives love advice to 14 and 15 year old girls. I am the person that a 14 year old boy who I have known less than a week will crawl into the lap of while watching a movie. I make better small talk. I laugh an play freely. I goof around just to goof around instead of wondering whether or not people are looking at me. I try to be an example instead of the insistently rebellious little teenager I once was. I am simply accessible. When did this happen? I don't really know. Because even when I first arrived in Vermont, I wasn't this way. Whatever moment or not moment it was, I am glad of it. Glad to be accessible to everyone, because in that I am more accessible to God.
There was a quote I heard once, something about wanting to be so alone with God you don't even realize you're alone. I liked it immediately, but didn't really appreciate it until today when I was driving along by myself thinking "When was the last time I felt lonely?" Now, it wasn't all that long ago, granted. But I usually feel lonely at the end of a long day or even a short one. I feel the desire and want to be desired and wanted ((and no, not sexually)). Just my attentions. With babies, you feel loved but it is a different kind of love. They need you. And that can be exhausting. Sometimes it is nice to just be wanted by another human being. I typically thrive on human attentions and being lonely can sneak up on me and then smack me in the side of the head with a brick - no exaggeration! But lately, I've just been... content. I've been chatting with God about somethings and nothings and everythings. It's been - unlonely - if there is such a word. If not, I am invoking it now, you will see it in next years edition of the Oxford Dictionary. I am unlonely. So alone with Him that I don't even realize I am alone at all.
It's a beautiful thing, this change. Some of it is sad, some is happy, some is just silly nonsense - but it is all beautiful. I hope you see beautiful change in your life as it has graced mine.
And the leaves aren't the only thing moving towards something new, I am.
"Putamadre, where is the third?!" This phrase has lived with me these last 9 months and I realized just last night that I will only get a chance to curse sets of twos ((or, Lord forbid, singles)) for a mere two weeks more. The triplets will return to Italy on the 30th while I will head West, in the opposite direction. I've taken to cuddling and smelling and eskimo kissing more than ever. Just taking them in as much as I can. I will see them again, that much I know, but they have become a part of me and to lose that part is going to be difficult...
Apparently, some change has made me completely child accessible. But not just children ages 0-10, no no no no no. Ages 0-99. I am suddenly this person who stops on the street to admire children playing and then strike up a conversation with their parents only to have one of said children climb into my lap. I am now this person who goes on day dates or gives love advice to 14 and 15 year old girls. I am the person that a 14 year old boy who I have known less than a week will crawl into the lap of while watching a movie. I make better small talk. I laugh an play freely. I goof around just to goof around instead of wondering whether or not people are looking at me. I try to be an example instead of the insistently rebellious little teenager I once was. I am simply accessible. When did this happen? I don't really know. Because even when I first arrived in Vermont, I wasn't this way. Whatever moment or not moment it was, I am glad of it. Glad to be accessible to everyone, because in that I am more accessible to God.
There was a quote I heard once, something about wanting to be so alone with God you don't even realize you're alone. I liked it immediately, but didn't really appreciate it until today when I was driving along by myself thinking "When was the last time I felt lonely?" Now, it wasn't all that long ago, granted. But I usually feel lonely at the end of a long day or even a short one. I feel the desire and want to be desired and wanted ((and no, not sexually)). Just my attentions. With babies, you feel loved but it is a different kind of love. They need you. And that can be exhausting. Sometimes it is nice to just be wanted by another human being. I typically thrive on human attentions and being lonely can sneak up on me and then smack me in the side of the head with a brick - no exaggeration! But lately, I've just been... content. I've been chatting with God about somethings and nothings and everythings. It's been - unlonely - if there is such a word. If not, I am invoking it now, you will see it in next years edition of the Oxford Dictionary. I am unlonely. So alone with Him that I don't even realize I am alone at all.
It's a beautiful thing, this change. Some of it is sad, some is happy, some is just silly nonsense - but it is all beautiful. I hope you see beautiful change in your life as it has graced mine.
10 August 2010
Where I Am
I know what you're thinking - two posts in one week! We have been so starved for blogs, thanks Malia! ... I'm just kidding. But here it is, nonetheless.
When I said I was changing my life back in June, I meant it. And slowly but surely, things are indeed changing. I applied for an internship recently ((I still don't know about the exact status of my application, but I'll let you know when I do)), and in that application I needed to write a short blip about where I am with God. Now, most of you know I dislike the term Christian - not because of any affilation problems, there are zealots in every religion from Christianity to Hindi to Islam to Buddhism - but because of that word, religion. I dislike the word religion and therefore dislike the term Christian. Do I believe in God, sure thing. Jesus, you bet. Do I read my bible and scribble little notes all over it, absolutely. But I know nothing of religion, I think only of God and doing what's right. Do I succeed all the time? No wayyy. But I try, and that is the important part.
Either way, here is the end bit of my application. Just for you folks ((and obviously the people I already sent it to)).
"Where I am: I dropped out of University. That is really the first thing you should know about me because that action not only defines who I am on paper, but has also come to define who I am in actuality. I was good at school, I had a beautiful apartment, great friends, a full time job, and a boyfriend - all the key ingredients to the American Dream, the good life. And I was miserable. To go into depth of what kind of misery might get my point further across, but is inconsequential now. The important part is that I left. I dropped out.
For the first 6 months or so after I dropped out, I felt like a failure. I had failed at the all the things that are supposed to make up a successful life and, furthermore, I had failed at even wanting them. I had the label of "dropout" dancing around me and I avoided it like the plague. I would tell people I had left university and make it sound like it had been me breaking up with college, but no matter what permutation of words I used, I could always feel the word "dropout" at the edge of my mind. I buried myself in working two prestigious office jobs as if to counter the fact that I was already a "disappointment" by society's standards. I spent those 6 months not much less miserable than I had been at University.
Right after the new year I received a text message from a friend in California who was homesick and having a hard time not being surrounded by those of us who already knew, loved, and accepted her - so, like any normal person would do, I dropped everything. Or perhaps that is not so normal. I quit both my jobs, cancelled anything I had planned, got into my car and drove 19 straight hours to California Baptist University in Riverside California. Now, when I was a little girl I had this theory about how God is in the ceiling ((roof, sky, etc)) and the reason so many people don't have a relationship with Him is that we so often forget to look up. Somewhere along that drive, with my broken radio at 2-something-in-the-morning up in the mountains between Oregon and California, I looked up. And for the first time in a long time, I just talked to the stars and God in them. We had long conversations about where I had been, where I was going, and stretches of silent love. I spent an amazing God-filled two weeks all over California and driving home up HWY 101. And most of my time alone with my Savior, just chatting with Him.
To say that since then my walk with Christ has been amazing every step of the way would be a lie. I am constantly lying beaten and broken upon the shores of God. But after having spent the last year and a half here, I am coming to realize that this is where we all are. Every time I imagine myself to be stronger or more independent, God sends me a gentle wave to remind me that I belong on His shores - occasionally it's a tsunami. My walk with God isn't so much a walk as me continually trying to run when I've only learned to crawl. I could tell you I read my bible each day ((which I do)), that I have a strong community in Christ ((which I do)), and that I am constantly involved in various missions whether they are serving one person or hundreds ((which I am)), but those things are not enough. They never have been. What I can tell you is that God knows me. Not only because He knows all things, but because He is the One I reach for all throughout the day. The One I call on in the difficult and the beautiful times.
I have spent the last year and a half on the road. From Washington to California to Canada to Peru to the East Coast to Europe and back to the USA again. And all I can say about any of it is “Thank God!” For all, for everything - good, bad, or in between. He has seen me through all my travels and has been my Rock. Where ever I am, I am with Him. I find Him in the ceiling, stars, music, side streets, and hashbrowns at 1AM. And, more importantly, He finds me - broken, joyful, exhausted, and eating hashbrowns at 1AM. So as to where I am with God - I am everywhere, but so is He."
So that's me. Where I am. My younger brother gave a mini-sermon to some of the guys at his Summer Camp he works at about how God won't always give you what you want, and that we shouldn't expect him to. About how without suffering there would be no compassion, without darkness there would be no light, etc etc. My mum thought I might enjoy some of the passages from the Bible that he has been reading, but what's funny is that while I did enjoy them - the passages after those were the ones that led me home. I've always liked the idea that you can only know true joy through sorrow, that wasn't new to me. But the repeated verses of "come home! come home! come home!" That was new for me. Good for me.
I thought long and hard about posting this in my blog. Not all of my friends believe anything even remotely close to what I do and many of you read my blog devotedly like the amazing people you are. So, no worries, I understand, this is a whole lot of Godtalk to undertake in one go. Just know I love you no matter what your outlook on this genre is. And always will.
When I said I was changing my life back in June, I meant it. And slowly but surely, things are indeed changing. I applied for an internship recently ((I still don't know about the exact status of my application, but I'll let you know when I do)), and in that application I needed to write a short blip about where I am with God. Now, most of you know I dislike the term Christian - not because of any affilation problems, there are zealots in every religion from Christianity to Hindi to Islam to Buddhism - but because of that word, religion. I dislike the word religion and therefore dislike the term Christian. Do I believe in God, sure thing. Jesus, you bet. Do I read my bible and scribble little notes all over it, absolutely. But I know nothing of religion, I think only of God and doing what's right. Do I succeed all the time? No wayyy. But I try, and that is the important part.
Either way, here is the end bit of my application. Just for you folks ((and obviously the people I already sent it to)).
"Where I am: I dropped out of University. That is really the first thing you should know about me because that action not only defines who I am on paper, but has also come to define who I am in actuality. I was good at school, I had a beautiful apartment, great friends, a full time job, and a boyfriend - all the key ingredients to the American Dream, the good life. And I was miserable. To go into depth of what kind of misery might get my point further across, but is inconsequential now. The important part is that I left. I dropped out.
For the first 6 months or so after I dropped out, I felt like a failure. I had failed at the all the things that are supposed to make up a successful life and, furthermore, I had failed at even wanting them. I had the label of "dropout" dancing around me and I avoided it like the plague. I would tell people I had left university and make it sound like it had been me breaking up with college, but no matter what permutation of words I used, I could always feel the word "dropout" at the edge of my mind. I buried myself in working two prestigious office jobs as if to counter the fact that I was already a "disappointment" by society's standards. I spent those 6 months not much less miserable than I had been at University.
Right after the new year I received a text message from a friend in California who was homesick and having a hard time not being surrounded by those of us who already knew, loved, and accepted her - so, like any normal person would do, I dropped everything. Or perhaps that is not so normal. I quit both my jobs, cancelled anything I had planned, got into my car and drove 19 straight hours to California Baptist University in Riverside California. Now, when I was a little girl I had this theory about how God is in the ceiling ((roof, sky, etc)) and the reason so many people don't have a relationship with Him is that we so often forget to look up. Somewhere along that drive, with my broken radio at 2-something-in-the-morning up in the mountains between Oregon and California, I looked up. And for the first time in a long time, I just talked to the stars and God in them. We had long conversations about where I had been, where I was going, and stretches of silent love. I spent an amazing God-filled two weeks all over California and driving home up HWY 101. And most of my time alone with my Savior, just chatting with Him.
To say that since then my walk with Christ has been amazing every step of the way would be a lie. I am constantly lying beaten and broken upon the shores of God. But after having spent the last year and a half here, I am coming to realize that this is where we all are. Every time I imagine myself to be stronger or more independent, God sends me a gentle wave to remind me that I belong on His shores - occasionally it's a tsunami. My walk with God isn't so much a walk as me continually trying to run when I've only learned to crawl. I could tell you I read my bible each day ((which I do)), that I have a strong community in Christ ((which I do)), and that I am constantly involved in various missions whether they are serving one person or hundreds ((which I am)), but those things are not enough. They never have been. What I can tell you is that God knows me. Not only because He knows all things, but because He is the One I reach for all throughout the day. The One I call on in the difficult and the beautiful times.
I have spent the last year and a half on the road. From Washington to California to Canada to Peru to the East Coast to Europe and back to the USA again. And all I can say about any of it is “Thank God!” For all, for everything - good, bad, or in between. He has seen me through all my travels and has been my Rock. Where ever I am, I am with Him. I find Him in the ceiling, stars, music, side streets, and hashbrowns at 1AM. And, more importantly, He finds me - broken, joyful, exhausted, and eating hashbrowns at 1AM. So as to where I am with God - I am everywhere, but so is He."
So that's me. Where I am. My younger brother gave a mini-sermon to some of the guys at his Summer Camp he works at about how God won't always give you what you want, and that we shouldn't expect him to. About how without suffering there would be no compassion, without darkness there would be no light, etc etc. My mum thought I might enjoy some of the passages from the Bible that he has been reading, but what's funny is that while I did enjoy them - the passages after those were the ones that led me home. I've always liked the idea that you can only know true joy through sorrow, that wasn't new to me. But the repeated verses of "come home! come home! come home!" That was new for me. Good for me.
I thought long and hard about posting this in my blog. Not all of my friends believe anything even remotely close to what I do and many of you read my blog devotedly like the amazing people you are. So, no worries, I understand, this is a whole lot of Godtalk to undertake in one go. Just know I love you no matter what your outlook on this genre is. And always will.
08 August 2010
After The Storm
It's been awhile.
I could use the excuse that I'm busy - but that would only be half true. I mean, I am busy, but I have also been graced with a lot of down time lately. And I could have written. But I didn't. My only explanation for this is that I have spent quite a bit of time studying me. Getting pieces of myself back. After leaving the United States, I kept stumbling upon pieces of myself. They would come up unexpectedly and I would welcome them with open arms, exclaiming "Oh gracious! There you are, self! I have missed you!" Since returning to the US, the pieces of me have remained rather silent. In a good way, calm and peaceful. But silent, nonetheless. So, at some point, I started looking for all those pieces still missing. I picked up books, touched the keys of a piano, drew, ran, made myself laugh. It's not that I haven't been doing all of those things rather casually over the years, but I did them all with the thought "I'm just going to do this thing for me for a bit. Yummy." Yes, yummy. I tend to forget myself in others. I give pieces without ever reclaiming them or asking for something in return. So, I'm welcoming those pieces back that wish to come back. Some, I think, won't ever return. Others have jumped at the chance. Either way, all of this points to a final conclusion to my year abroad.
The prodigal daughter ((me)) is finally coming home.
And I wonder, if it weren't for facebook, skype, telephones etc, would anyone even recognize me? Last night I chatted with a dear friend and he laughed as he said "It's funny, I don't know you anymore. I still love you like it hurts, but I don't know this woman you've become." At first, I was slightly - maybe more than slightly - hurt by this statement. He is one of the people I cherish most in life, how could he possibly not know me? But he just laughed at me again and explained it a bit like this::
"To start with the obvious, M, you left here eyeliner drawn and coverup covered with long straightened hair, skinny jeans, nervously defining "you" with every label you could stick to yourself as if that's what gave you an identity. You've returned barefoot and bare faced with short curls, a bounce in your step, and fierce opposition to those who dare tell you no. Are you still working out the kinks? Sure, but last fall I feared for your life and this fall I fear for those who even think of taking you on. You are a beautiful, fiery, light of a human being - made of stars. No one could possibly know you from the little girl you were. It is said no one reaches their potential until they're with God and I think that's true, but I might beg to argue that point looking at the beautiful fiery woman you've transformed into."
There's a reason he's a favorite. And so, I am coming home. For how long, I can't say. But I no longer fear losing myself to the small town of Maple Valley and am going home to fully appreciate it for what it is. The fall leaves, the hiking, snowboarding, Mt Rainier, all that is soccer, friends, and family. Who knows what comes after this? I know nothing of the future and wouldn't want to. Oh what joy to be here and now!
Enjoy your moments, they are what this life is made of.
Check This Out: http://projectak47.com/
I could use the excuse that I'm busy - but that would only be half true. I mean, I am busy, but I have also been graced with a lot of down time lately. And I could have written. But I didn't. My only explanation for this is that I have spent quite a bit of time studying me. Getting pieces of myself back. After leaving the United States, I kept stumbling upon pieces of myself. They would come up unexpectedly and I would welcome them with open arms, exclaiming "Oh gracious! There you are, self! I have missed you!" Since returning to the US, the pieces of me have remained rather silent. In a good way, calm and peaceful. But silent, nonetheless. So, at some point, I started looking for all those pieces still missing. I picked up books, touched the keys of a piano, drew, ran, made myself laugh. It's not that I haven't been doing all of those things rather casually over the years, but I did them all with the thought "I'm just going to do this thing for me for a bit. Yummy." Yes, yummy. I tend to forget myself in others. I give pieces without ever reclaiming them or asking for something in return. So, I'm welcoming those pieces back that wish to come back. Some, I think, won't ever return. Others have jumped at the chance. Either way, all of this points to a final conclusion to my year abroad.
The prodigal daughter ((me)) is finally coming home.
And I wonder, if it weren't for facebook, skype, telephones etc, would anyone even recognize me? Last night I chatted with a dear friend and he laughed as he said "It's funny, I don't know you anymore. I still love you like it hurts, but I don't know this woman you've become." At first, I was slightly - maybe more than slightly - hurt by this statement. He is one of the people I cherish most in life, how could he possibly not know me? But he just laughed at me again and explained it a bit like this::
"To start with the obvious, M, you left here eyeliner drawn and coverup covered with long straightened hair, skinny jeans, nervously defining "you" with every label you could stick to yourself as if that's what gave you an identity. You've returned barefoot and bare faced with short curls, a bounce in your step, and fierce opposition to those who dare tell you no. Are you still working out the kinks? Sure, but last fall I feared for your life and this fall I fear for those who even think of taking you on. You are a beautiful, fiery, light of a human being - made of stars. No one could possibly know you from the little girl you were. It is said no one reaches their potential until they're with God and I think that's true, but I might beg to argue that point looking at the beautiful fiery woman you've transformed into."
There's a reason he's a favorite. And so, I am coming home. For how long, I can't say. But I no longer fear losing myself to the small town of Maple Valley and am going home to fully appreciate it for what it is. The fall leaves, the hiking, snowboarding, Mt Rainier, all that is soccer, friends, and family. Who knows what comes after this? I know nothing of the future and wouldn't want to. Oh what joy to be here and now!
Enjoy your moments, they are what this life is made of.
Check This Out: http://projectak47.com/
27 July 2010
Watch Me Burn Bright
"A drop in the ocean, a change in the weather
I was praying that you and me might end up together"
i
want
more from this life
to eat with my hands
feel small beneath a mountain
dance to street music
laugh at nothing
experience my surroundings
watch the clouds go by
read until the sun rises
speak honestly
walk until i can't go another step
meet someone new
roll my rrr's
write down what i know
salsa tango mambo rhumba waltz
try to count all the stars
see every corner of this world
The best moments of your life are never the ones you plan or the moments that you imagine would be. Winning Prom Queen in High School, my first kiss, graduating... none of those even qualify. It's the nothings that turn into somethings, the everdays, the random spontaneous moments that are completely on accident when you find joy in whateverness instead of specificities. It's important to appreciate everything - even the bad things. Afterall, "When the sky is darkest, you can see the stars."
The first time my baby brother told me he loved me after a year of hell. Right before Jade left for Georgia and we all laughed until we cried. Driving alone down I-5 between Oregon and California at 1am with a broken radio. Trying to keep all three triplets on my lap as we all play the piano. Kawai and I singing at the top of our lungs in the car to bad 90's music. Sitting on the swings with Wendee. Running around the living room with Noah and Zo. The 24 hour bus ride to Cusco. Talking religion with ZBear on my bed until we fell asleep. Holding my Godparents after finding them at Creation on accident. Practically living with KGeiger while we finished senior projects. Getting coffee with Tao the morning after in Cusco. CD Shane driving to Bellingham from Chicago cause I had a nightmare. Screaming at the World Cup Games with my dad. Being bought whiskey by a really drunk Welsh guy none of us could understand in Barcelona. Walking my feet up the slanted ceilings when I was 6. Ignoring my 20th birthday with Alexis. Giggling with Kendall in a French hotel room until Hipolito demanded we shut up - in his silk heart boxers. Long conversations I had with a random man in Ashland. Learning to draw with my Aunt Linda. Photoshoot days with Wesley. Spontaneous limo rides with CD Shane. Napping on a surfboard in the sun. More...
There is so much possibility in life. Take it.
I was praying that you and me might end up together"
i
want
more from this life
to eat with my hands
feel small beneath a mountain
dance to street music
laugh at nothing
experience my surroundings
watch the clouds go by
read until the sun rises
speak honestly
walk until i can't go another step
meet someone new
roll my rrr's
write down what i know
salsa tango mambo rhumba waltz
try to count all the stars
see every corner of this world
The best moments of your life are never the ones you plan or the moments that you imagine would be. Winning Prom Queen in High School, my first kiss, graduating... none of those even qualify. It's the nothings that turn into somethings, the everdays, the random spontaneous moments that are completely on accident when you find joy in whateverness instead of specificities. It's important to appreciate everything - even the bad things. Afterall, "When the sky is darkest, you can see the stars."
The first time my baby brother told me he loved me after a year of hell. Right before Jade left for Georgia and we all laughed until we cried. Driving alone down I-5 between Oregon and California at 1am with a broken radio. Trying to keep all three triplets on my lap as we all play the piano. Kawai and I singing at the top of our lungs in the car to bad 90's music. Sitting on the swings with Wendee. Running around the living room with Noah and Zo. The 24 hour bus ride to Cusco. Talking religion with ZBear on my bed until we fell asleep. Holding my Godparents after finding them at Creation on accident. Practically living with KGeiger while we finished senior projects. Getting coffee with Tao the morning after in Cusco. CD Shane driving to Bellingham from Chicago cause I had a nightmare. Screaming at the World Cup Games with my dad. Being bought whiskey by a really drunk Welsh guy none of us could understand in Barcelona. Walking my feet up the slanted ceilings when I was 6. Ignoring my 20th birthday with Alexis. Giggling with Kendall in a French hotel room until Hipolito demanded we shut up - in his silk heart boxers. Long conversations I had with a random man in Ashland. Learning to draw with my Aunt Linda. Photoshoot days with Wesley. Spontaneous limo rides with CD Shane. Napping on a surfboard in the sun. More...
There is so much possibility in life. Take it.
19 July 2010
The "More" In Life
"People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave. A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master..." :: Eat Pray Love, Elizabeth Gilbert
It's strange to think I have spent much of my youth, teenage years, and young adult life trying to express the concepts and ideas that this woman has written in her novel. To search the world looking for yourself? Me. To find peace and bliss and love in things that you never would have thought to look in, or at times exactly where you were looking all along but even simpler than you could have imagined? Me. I feel as if, perhaps, I could stop my chatting and just hand people over this book. Not quite my life, but she sums up so much of what I can never seem to get through to people. And her words are now being put on the big screen with Julia Roberts portraying her in her life story... makes a girl wonder. Mayhaps I should be writing more, better. And sending it off to those who can put their grimey capitalist hands all over it, making me... famous? Rich? Better? Nahhh. Able. Making me able. Able to tell my story, and not just my story but other peoples stories. Able to give back to the communities and the people that took me in and loved me as one of their own. Able to continue to grow in worldwide communities. Able.
I have a concept that I'd like to share with you, with the world. But it's not ready yet. I need to continue to work on it, smooth it over, get all the kinks out. But it is the first thing in a long while that has made me feel as though I am moving toward my purpose. So often we find ourselves struggling, looking for something more than what we are given and than what we have. The "more," whatever it is, haunts us. It's in the face of our failures, our "what if's," and even in our successes. Pressing us to work harder towards the next thing, the next success. We search for the "more" avidly, desperate and heart broken when we cannot quite put our finger on it. I, personally, am finding it is less in myself than it is in the world around me. It was on the highway in the middle of the night between Southern Oregon and Northern California. And again at the Gorge in Eastern Washington. It was hidden in the little streets of Cusco, in the deep setted valleys of Sacred Valley. The "more" was in the vast expanses of Peruvian landscape stretched before my eyes from mountain top, bus window, or edge of the road. It was in the busy sidewalks of New York City. And again as I stood in the center of the Library of Congress. I saw it in the hillsides of Tuscany, there in the fields of Sicily, and in the mountains and cliffs of northern Italy. It struck me in the sunshine of Barcelona. It glances off the side of Mount Rainier and the view from Black Butte. The "more" is here with me in the skies of the Champlain Islands. It is there in everything that I see. I'm finding the "more" that we all search for has less to do with ourselves than we could imagine, and yet that makes a perfect sense. I am now working on how to share what I have learned with the rest of the world. With the rest of you.
I'm finding calm. Slowly but surely, it's creeping upon me. Never standing still, but that calm that comes with knowing things will work out regardless of the situation. Before it was more of a nonchalant uncaring attitude about the future but as all things do, that is changing. I hope I am continuing to encourage and inspire as I write this nonsense. Once upon a time I did such things, then I disappeared. Too ashamed really, that I was not the person I thought I should be. I realize now, I was always the person I should have been. And I am even in this moment continuing to grow and make realizations. To love, learn, laugh and discover love, learning, and laughter in all things. Finding the beauty in them.
Find beauty. Tell me about where, I'd love to share that with you.
With love,
It's strange to think I have spent much of my youth, teenage years, and young adult life trying to express the concepts and ideas that this woman has written in her novel. To search the world looking for yourself? Me. To find peace and bliss and love in things that you never would have thought to look in, or at times exactly where you were looking all along but even simpler than you could have imagined? Me. I feel as if, perhaps, I could stop my chatting and just hand people over this book. Not quite my life, but she sums up so much of what I can never seem to get through to people. And her words are now being put on the big screen with Julia Roberts portraying her in her life story... makes a girl wonder. Mayhaps I should be writing more, better. And sending it off to those who can put their grimey capitalist hands all over it, making me... famous? Rich? Better? Nahhh. Able. Making me able. Able to tell my story, and not just my story but other peoples stories. Able to give back to the communities and the people that took me in and loved me as one of their own. Able to continue to grow in worldwide communities. Able.
I have a concept that I'd like to share with you, with the world. But it's not ready yet. I need to continue to work on it, smooth it over, get all the kinks out. But it is the first thing in a long while that has made me feel as though I am moving toward my purpose. So often we find ourselves struggling, looking for something more than what we are given and than what we have. The "more," whatever it is, haunts us. It's in the face of our failures, our "what if's," and even in our successes. Pressing us to work harder towards the next thing, the next success. We search for the "more" avidly, desperate and heart broken when we cannot quite put our finger on it. I, personally, am finding it is less in myself than it is in the world around me. It was on the highway in the middle of the night between Southern Oregon and Northern California. And again at the Gorge in Eastern Washington. It was hidden in the little streets of Cusco, in the deep setted valleys of Sacred Valley. The "more" was in the vast expanses of Peruvian landscape stretched before my eyes from mountain top, bus window, or edge of the road. It was in the busy sidewalks of New York City. And again as I stood in the center of the Library of Congress. I saw it in the hillsides of Tuscany, there in the fields of Sicily, and in the mountains and cliffs of northern Italy. It struck me in the sunshine of Barcelona. It glances off the side of Mount Rainier and the view from Black Butte. The "more" is here with me in the skies of the Champlain Islands. It is there in everything that I see. I'm finding the "more" that we all search for has less to do with ourselves than we could imagine, and yet that makes a perfect sense. I am now working on how to share what I have learned with the rest of the world. With the rest of you.
I'm finding calm. Slowly but surely, it's creeping upon me. Never standing still, but that calm that comes with knowing things will work out regardless of the situation. Before it was more of a nonchalant uncaring attitude about the future but as all things do, that is changing. I hope I am continuing to encourage and inspire as I write this nonsense. Once upon a time I did such things, then I disappeared. Too ashamed really, that I was not the person I thought I should be. I realize now, I was always the person I should have been. And I am even in this moment continuing to grow and make realizations. To love, learn, laugh and discover love, learning, and laughter in all things. Finding the beauty in them.
Find beauty. Tell me about where, I'd love to share that with you.
With love,
16 July 2010
Home Where The Heart Is
It's been awhile. I have no excuses for my lack of blogging, not really. Actually, I've written quite a bit over the past couple weeks or so, seeing if I could accumulate enough material to make up a magazine and keeping updates recorded in a small journal I keep for myself. I definitely could create a magazine or at least some type of newsletter, the real question is whether or not I could sustain it financially or whether I have the self discipline. Anddd computer access is also an issue, but I am sure I could figure that piece out if I truly wanted. I could make time to find a resource.
I think the real reason I haven't written in so long is that I am torn on a fairly crucial issue - my future. The nonplanner is becoming antsy and difficult again. What's worse is that it isn't only affecting my blog efforts, but also my job and contact with other human life forms ((and the occasional alien, but whatever)). That's all I'll say at the moment, I need time to figure this one out on my own I think. I have sought out the opinions of others and they have helped greatly, but what I really need is prayer. What you believe is irrelevant, it's what I believe that makes me need it. That too is an entirely different topic...
Resting on my heart lately has been several things, so let's get to them. This blog is about me being the honesty I want to see in the world and I have been avoiding honesty ((and blogging)). Not lying, just evading the need to address my truths. Fair dinkum.
1. Check out this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuaavycxU1Q
An oldtime favorite band of mine hooked up with an oldtime favorite artist of a different band and this is their new hit single. It's one of those songs that just hit me. I was driving when I heard it for the first time and I just... melted into the music. I'm that kind of person, I can just meld with a song. Like a chemical reaction, sparks and bonding and something new emerged. It made me think about how much I need to be doing for this world that I cherish so dearly. Existing is not enough. Existing at a bare minimum is not enough. Living green, blogging, preaching to those who should know better? Not enough. My time and sweat and blood is required. I am required. And I am not giving my all. So selfish am I to cling to comfort, when the world around me is full of things I can change. I can't just be the honesty I want to see in the world. I need to be the change, the beauty, the love, the awe, the wonder, the all that I want to see.
2. Visting the Pacific North West was amazing and I am so glad I went, but it has made me miss my friends and the life I had there. Not that it wasn't a wonderful life, it just wasn't healthy for me. My friends and family were all supportive and fantastic, but I wasn't healthy for me. I settled into my little bubble and just let the world bounce off of me when I should have been seeking out the things, the places, the people I let slide by my radar. Every object, every place, every person has a story and it is on me to hear them for myself. To let them go unheard would be an injustice in every sense of the word.
As for writing, I have been on top of that. I'm writing some kind of travel journal that is getting to be quite long and really kind of fun. Hey, maybe it will be that book I am always starting and promising to write. Who knows, keep your fingers crossed for that one. Think of all the charities that could benefit from book royalties! I could even start my own! And combine it with (RED) and TWLOHA and PostSecret and all my other favorite nonprofits! Eek! ... Okay, mayhaps I am getting a bit ahead of myself.
I think that is all for now, but stay tuned. I promise to be back soon.
I think the real reason I haven't written in so long is that I am torn on a fairly crucial issue - my future. The nonplanner is becoming antsy and difficult again. What's worse is that it isn't only affecting my blog efforts, but also my job and contact with other human life forms ((and the occasional alien, but whatever)). That's all I'll say at the moment, I need time to figure this one out on my own I think. I have sought out the opinions of others and they have helped greatly, but what I really need is prayer. What you believe is irrelevant, it's what I believe that makes me need it. That too is an entirely different topic...
Resting on my heart lately has been several things, so let's get to them. This blog is about me being the honesty I want to see in the world and I have been avoiding honesty ((and blogging)). Not lying, just evading the need to address my truths. Fair dinkum.
1. Check out this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuaavycxU1Q
An oldtime favorite band of mine hooked up with an oldtime favorite artist of a different band and this is their new hit single. It's one of those songs that just hit me. I was driving when I heard it for the first time and I just... melted into the music. I'm that kind of person, I can just meld with a song. Like a chemical reaction, sparks and bonding and something new emerged. It made me think about how much I need to be doing for this world that I cherish so dearly. Existing is not enough. Existing at a bare minimum is not enough. Living green, blogging, preaching to those who should know better? Not enough. My time and sweat and blood is required. I am required. And I am not giving my all. So selfish am I to cling to comfort, when the world around me is full of things I can change. I can't just be the honesty I want to see in the world. I need to be the change, the beauty, the love, the awe, the wonder, the all that I want to see.
2. Visting the Pacific North West was amazing and I am so glad I went, but it has made me miss my friends and the life I had there. Not that it wasn't a wonderful life, it just wasn't healthy for me. My friends and family were all supportive and fantastic, but I wasn't healthy for me. I settled into my little bubble and just let the world bounce off of me when I should have been seeking out the things, the places, the people I let slide by my radar. Every object, every place, every person has a story and it is on me to hear them for myself. To let them go unheard would be an injustice in every sense of the word.
As for writing, I have been on top of that. I'm writing some kind of travel journal that is getting to be quite long and really kind of fun. Hey, maybe it will be that book I am always starting and promising to write. Who knows, keep your fingers crossed for that one. Think of all the charities that could benefit from book royalties! I could even start my own! And combine it with (RED) and TWLOHA and PostSecret and all my other favorite nonprofits! Eek! ... Okay, mayhaps I am getting a bit ahead of myself.
I think that is all for now, but stay tuned. I promise to be back soon.
22 June 2010
The Real Issues
Firstly, BP. You've probably heard a thousand people say a thousand things on the topic, but for me it's an important one. I'm a hippie at heart, people. I love myself the trees, the birds, and the butterflies, etc. And oddly enough, although a huge believer in living in th moment for myself, I do have standards on that count. One of them being that in living each day, I should do nothing that may compromise the day of another person - including the future days of another person ((Don't you throw that bottle out the window, sir)). I am obviously as upset as the next person on the topic, but stop BP bashing and start acting. Yah, the Gulf is in serious jeopardy with all the oil STILL spilling into it at 60 thousand gallons a day or whatever the estimate is now - but more importantly? YOU'RE STILL DRIVING TO WORK. Should BP be held accountable for the mess they've created? Most certainly. But that doesn't mean you are entirely off the hook by making outraged faces and slandering them verbally or even holding out on BP gas stations... you are still buying petrol. Now, I travel by air. Which also puts me in the limelight of hypocrisy, but I am looking more and more into petrol free options and airlines that aren't mainstreaming gasoline - and so should you. I suppose it isn't reasonable for everyone to just up and start walking or biking or even busing to work. But take another look at those tiny dorky hybrids, do you live close enough to work to bike? Get yourself in shape and save the environment! Heyoh!
Other, slightly related things? Lay off Obama for a minute, kids. He's giving his all and change takes time, you can't fix the economy over night or with a magic Presidency wand. Give it a minute.
Recently reading again about the 3 kids who were taken in by the Iranian military, I feel, as a traveler, that I must comment on this. It is fairly appalling, not just that they have not yet been returned to their homes but that they haven't really been allowed contact with the outside world. GREEN. Now, having been properly agog at that, what were these three kids thinking?! They were very clearly on the Iran Iraq border and knew it was unmarked. They should have had much more sense then to go wandering off the beaten path. It is sheer stupidity and gives young travelers everywhere a bad name. Now, I would love to do a walking tour of Northern Africa and the Middle East and even cross through Iran - but I would ensure I had a visa on me and would go nowhere near the border without one. I'm daring, not stupid. I seek adventure, not jailtime. End story, thanks.
Vermont? As picturesque as Tuscany - I tell no lies, kids. It's completely different, but the absolute raw beauty of it all is still there. It is overwhelming really. Late this morning I took the triplets out onto the fantastic and huge lawn that Boppy and Poppops have and just let them explore. They don't put as much grass in their mouths as they used to and love the simple stuff, to just wander. I would crawl after them occasionally and munch on their bare toes ((irresistable, just so you know)), but mostly I just soaked up sunshine and the quietness of it all. I was shocked at how quiet it was. Looking away from the house out towards the trees, with only the boys cooing and birds chirping, I felt more at home than I have in a long time. I don't think it was Vermont so much as just the quiet and the open space. So often we forget about the quiet and the open space. Think about it. How often do you hear a car go by or a telephone ring? The buzzing of electricity, doors opening and shutting, washing machines, dishwashers, the list goes on and on. Were we really made for this stuff?
I had a friend recently argue with me that they love all the noise and the stuff that the city and modern life have to offer. And I cannot deny that there is a certain appeal; modern medicine, the internet, and satellite cababilities being only a few of these things that have improved life for many people. I myself, as a professional vagabond, often partake in airtravel and facebook to keep in touch with all of you so very far from wherever it is that I am. This blog in itself is unecessary. But if I am being honest with myself? I'd give it all up if I thought I would accomplish something. I could start a magazine and send what is now an internet blog off to subscribers individually. The subscribtions could spread by word of mouth instead of advertising. Family members, friends, even strangers. All at a low cost. Having others send me letters instead of emails about how they feel about certain things. Could I do this? I don't know. I am tempted now that I have proposed the idea to myself. But how would I get started? Well, I would need a permanent address, my parents. And a way to contact them on a regular basis, phone. I could perhaps use public resources to type what I write by hand and print it off - that becomes complicated out of country... but not impossible. I would need a subscription rate, how much does it cost to print a page? Perhaps $0.15? Make it a simple 10-15 page magazine once a month and you are at a max of $2.00. There is, of course, shipping which may prove to be a bit more expensive. But then, a simple 15 page magazine will lightly fit into a simple 8"10" envelope which, when sent within the United States, shouldn't be much more than another $2.00? So perhaps a total of $5.00 per magazine? Of course, I would want to send some samples out all over for free first, get a general idea of what kind of response I could pull from the public. So for starters - What say you, public? Would you be interested if I stopped my online blogging efforts to send you something personally? Hey, I could even include a personal little letter to start out, seeing as my "fan base" is relatively small... heh. I am beginning to really love this idea - give me some feed back here!
With love,
Your Wandering Vagabond
Other, slightly related things? Lay off Obama for a minute, kids. He's giving his all and change takes time, you can't fix the economy over night or with a magic Presidency wand. Give it a minute.
Recently reading again about the 3 kids who were taken in by the Iranian military, I feel, as a traveler, that I must comment on this. It is fairly appalling, not just that they have not yet been returned to their homes but that they haven't really been allowed contact with the outside world. GREEN. Now, having been properly agog at that, what were these three kids thinking?! They were very clearly on the Iran Iraq border and knew it was unmarked. They should have had much more sense then to go wandering off the beaten path. It is sheer stupidity and gives young travelers everywhere a bad name. Now, I would love to do a walking tour of Northern Africa and the Middle East and even cross through Iran - but I would ensure I had a visa on me and would go nowhere near the border without one. I'm daring, not stupid. I seek adventure, not jailtime. End story, thanks.
Vermont? As picturesque as Tuscany - I tell no lies, kids. It's completely different, but the absolute raw beauty of it all is still there. It is overwhelming really. Late this morning I took the triplets out onto the fantastic and huge lawn that Boppy and Poppops have and just let them explore. They don't put as much grass in their mouths as they used to and love the simple stuff, to just wander. I would crawl after them occasionally and munch on their bare toes ((irresistable, just so you know)), but mostly I just soaked up sunshine and the quietness of it all. I was shocked at how quiet it was. Looking away from the house out towards the trees, with only the boys cooing and birds chirping, I felt more at home than I have in a long time. I don't think it was Vermont so much as just the quiet and the open space. So often we forget about the quiet and the open space. Think about it. How often do you hear a car go by or a telephone ring? The buzzing of electricity, doors opening and shutting, washing machines, dishwashers, the list goes on and on. Were we really made for this stuff?
I had a friend recently argue with me that they love all the noise and the stuff that the city and modern life have to offer. And I cannot deny that there is a certain appeal; modern medicine, the internet, and satellite cababilities being only a few of these things that have improved life for many people. I myself, as a professional vagabond, often partake in airtravel and facebook to keep in touch with all of you so very far from wherever it is that I am. This blog in itself is unecessary. But if I am being honest with myself? I'd give it all up if I thought I would accomplish something. I could start a magazine and send what is now an internet blog off to subscribers individually. The subscribtions could spread by word of mouth instead of advertising. Family members, friends, even strangers. All at a low cost. Having others send me letters instead of emails about how they feel about certain things. Could I do this? I don't know. I am tempted now that I have proposed the idea to myself. But how would I get started? Well, I would need a permanent address, my parents. And a way to contact them on a regular basis, phone. I could perhaps use public resources to type what I write by hand and print it off - that becomes complicated out of country... but not impossible. I would need a subscription rate, how much does it cost to print a page? Perhaps $0.15? Make it a simple 10-15 page magazine once a month and you are at a max of $2.00. There is, of course, shipping which may prove to be a bit more expensive. But then, a simple 15 page magazine will lightly fit into a simple 8"10" envelope which, when sent within the United States, shouldn't be much more than another $2.00? So perhaps a total of $5.00 per magazine? Of course, I would want to send some samples out all over for free first, get a general idea of what kind of response I could pull from the public. So for starters - What say you, public? Would you be interested if I stopped my online blogging efforts to send you something personally? Hey, I could even include a personal little letter to start out, seeing as my "fan base" is relatively small... heh. I am beginning to really love this idea - give me some feed back here!
With love,
Your Wandering Vagabond
18 June 2010
As The Days Go By
First order of business? I'd like to apologize for my lack of posts in this past week! It's been a busy and internetless time, still there are no excuses! The 10 people or so that read this deserve better! And I am learning to be better all the time, just gotta give it time, kids.
Vermont is, spectacular. Breath taking, beautiful, awesome in the realest sense of the word. It is much like the San Juan islands in the PNW, I'm partial to the other side of the states but Vermont is just stunning as well. I am very excited to be spending the Summer here! Everyone is kind and interesting and have all been more than welcoming. It's wonderful to be back in the states for several reasons, although I bet you won't guess what they are. First and formost: Cellphone is back in commission! So I can text and call loved ones at will! Yay! And the very close second: COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF HEALTH FOOD!!! Good gracious I never realized how much I just want to suck down Odwalla juice, salad, fruit, sushi, granola, etc etc. I am disgustingly NorthWesternAmerican, I don't think I ever realized how much until I was never there anymore. If the store you're shopping at doesn't have a climbing wall in it? Not for me. If you can't pronounce the ingredients in your food? Not for me. If your day consists of being outside for 1 hour or less? Not. For. Me. I want something else. Thirdly: I have my own little cabin. It's not actually mine, but the space is. Am I going to hang out in there? No, probably not. But it's just the having my own space that's nice. Not that I don't love and adore Enzo and Eliza and the boysies! It's not the footsteps in the hall or the crying at night that I mind in Italy, it's actually kind of nice - cozy. It's the fact that the room isn't actually mine. The space isn't mine. I'm Hawaiian, but I'm also of Irish descent and those kids need lots of space. Just look at how spaced out they are over in Ireland! Anyway, those are the three main points of excitement being back in the US. English? Meh, overated. No strict Italian schedule? Meh, we have our own versions of that in the US. No Eda? I actually kind of like the old bird. Does she drive me nuts, yes. But so does my own grandmother - I think it's the Catholicism plus WWII plus generational gap. Overall it's just being able to be in constant contact with people, health food, and space. Gee I love health food... ha.
Back to Vermont!
Vermont is, spectacular. Breath taking, beautiful, awesome in the realest sense of the word. It is much like the San Juan islands in the PNW, I'm partial to the other side of the states but Vermont is just stunning as well. I am very excited to be spending the Summer here! Everyone is kind and interesting and have all been more than welcoming. It's wonderful to be back in the states for several reasons, although I bet you won't guess what they are. First and formost: Cellphone is back in commission! So I can text and call loved ones at will! Yay! And the very close second: COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF HEALTH FOOD!!! Good gracious I never realized how much I just want to suck down Odwalla juice, salad, fruit, sushi, granola, etc etc. I am disgustingly NorthWesternAmerican, I don't think I ever realized how much until I was never there anymore. If the store you're shopping at doesn't have a climbing wall in it? Not for me. If you can't pronounce the ingredients in your food? Not for me. If your day consists of being outside for 1 hour or less? Not. For. Me. I want something else. Thirdly: I have my own little cabin. It's not actually mine, but the space is. Am I going to hang out in there? No, probably not. But it's just the having my own space that's nice. Not that I don't love and adore Enzo and Eliza and the boysies! It's not the footsteps in the hall or the crying at night that I mind in Italy, it's actually kind of nice - cozy. It's the fact that the room isn't actually mine. The space isn't mine. I'm Hawaiian, but I'm also of Irish descent and those kids need lots of space. Just look at how spaced out they are over in Ireland! Anyway, those are the three main points of excitement being back in the US. English? Meh, overated. No strict Italian schedule? Meh, we have our own versions of that in the US. No Eda? I actually kind of like the old bird. Does she drive me nuts, yes. But so does my own grandmother - I think it's the Catholicism plus WWII plus generational gap. Overall it's just being able to be in constant contact with people, health food, and space. Gee I love health food... ha.
Back to Vermont!
13 June 2010
Se7en
Ouch.
Achieving what you want takes time and effort and sweat an toil. It isn't just about the light at the end of the tunnel, it's also about the tunnel. Reach for the stars, and even if you don't get there? Make sure to take a good look at the view from so high up.
I have a new theory that truly beautiful people are unaware. Unaware of the fact they are beautiful, maybe. But more just unaware of themselves. They just don't think about it. Of course you have your super models and pressed suits, but that is superficial. Truly beautiful people are the ones who flop on the sofa in an awkward manner and are in a strange position but when you glance over at them you have to smile. They're the ones who have subconscious habits like playing with a strand of hair or curling their toes when they think. People who laugh freely and don't mind getting messy or disheveled. The ones who are just unaware of themselves. When you think you're not just beautiful, but superiorly so, then people tend to find you snobbish. And when your self esteem is low, people can sense that as well. But people who are just unaware of the modern ideas of beauty and see people for what and who they truly are, including themselves? Those are the people you want in your life.
I am turning into a pumpkin, so I bid you adieu.
Achieving what you want takes time and effort and sweat an toil. It isn't just about the light at the end of the tunnel, it's also about the tunnel. Reach for the stars, and even if you don't get there? Make sure to take a good look at the view from so high up.
I have a new theory that truly beautiful people are unaware. Unaware of the fact they are beautiful, maybe. But more just unaware of themselves. They just don't think about it. Of course you have your super models and pressed suits, but that is superficial. Truly beautiful people are the ones who flop on the sofa in an awkward manner and are in a strange position but when you glance over at them you have to smile. They're the ones who have subconscious habits like playing with a strand of hair or curling their toes when they think. People who laugh freely and don't mind getting messy or disheveled. The ones who are just unaware of themselves. When you think you're not just beautiful, but superiorly so, then people tend to find you snobbish. And when your self esteem is low, people can sense that as well. But people who are just unaware of the modern ideas of beauty and see people for what and who they truly are, including themselves? Those are the people you want in your life.
I am turning into a pumpkin, so I bid you adieu.
12 June 2010
Six
I am constantly amazed at how simple things can change our lives. Today my mindset was success. I tried my best not to let anything anyone said, any baby fussing, or anything get me down and every time I made a mistake ((I made several, if you ask Eda)) I just took a deep breath and told myself to remember to do it differently next time. Even just that rather than wishing I had done it differently the first time, let me keep my "brilliance" as Eda calls it.
I don't plan. Not 6 months, not 1 year, not 2 years, and certainly not more than that. I do not plan. Why? Partially because I believe in living the moment, partially because plans typically do not pan out for me, and partially because I enjoy not knowing. I like change and I like diversity. It has been pointed out by several people that I should be going to Uni, that I am wasting my potential. And I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I would love to go to Uni and really learn all that I can. But a separate part of me is realizing I have learned far more not going to Uni than I ever would have stuck on a campus or in a city for 4 years of my life. I am learning and growing and having real life experience. Plus I am teaching, helping others grow, and listening to the stories of so many other people. And their stories need to be heard. The people I have met along my journeys are the people many only ever hear about. This is what Uni prepares you for, life. What could a piece of paper possibly have to offer me that the world hasn't already given me in experience? Now, having made that point, I am not opposed to getting a degree. I just can't sit still for four years waiting to get back to the life I already had. I will get there, I will. But for right now, I love my life and the people in it and what I am doing an where I am going and all of it. I love the direction(s) I am headed, what could possibly be wrong with that. I am still challenging myself all the time and growing. What more could I want? This is life and I am living each moment.
"Everyone will tell you you're crazy, even yourself every once in awhile. You just have to look at them straight and say 'Probably.'"
I don't plan. Not 6 months, not 1 year, not 2 years, and certainly not more than that. I do not plan. Why? Partially because I believe in living the moment, partially because plans typically do not pan out for me, and partially because I enjoy not knowing. I like change and I like diversity. It has been pointed out by several people that I should be going to Uni, that I am wasting my potential. And I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I would love to go to Uni and really learn all that I can. But a separate part of me is realizing I have learned far more not going to Uni than I ever would have stuck on a campus or in a city for 4 years of my life. I am learning and growing and having real life experience. Plus I am teaching, helping others grow, and listening to the stories of so many other people. And their stories need to be heard. The people I have met along my journeys are the people many only ever hear about. This is what Uni prepares you for, life. What could a piece of paper possibly have to offer me that the world hasn't already given me in experience? Now, having made that point, I am not opposed to getting a degree. I just can't sit still for four years waiting to get back to the life I already had. I will get there, I will. But for right now, I love my life and the people in it and what I am doing an where I am going and all of it. I love the direction(s) I am headed, what could possibly be wrong with that. I am still challenging myself all the time and growing. What more could I want? This is life and I am living each moment.
"Everyone will tell you you're crazy, even yourself every once in awhile. You just have to look at them straight and say 'Probably.'"
09 June 2010
Dia Tres
Today was harder. To say I had a rough day would be a lie. I had a fine day, boysies were good and we got in lots of snuggling and kisses and hugs and loves, etc etc. But I had a rough self image day. I was mad at myself for not going running and frustrated with the fact that I never complete goals for myself. What a joke I am making myself. This evening it accumulated and boysies were upset because it's humid and hot which lead to me attempting to get Deo to bed and failing. That was the cherry. Typically I can manage to settle Deo down in the evenings, but I think between him knowing his brothers weren't in bed and my obvious self doubt, he was upset and uncomfortable and probably hot and sticky. I'll go ahead and be honest, after Enzo came upstairs to help me with Deo? I went into my room, closed the shutters, curled into a ball on my bed and cried. It was a mixture of frustrations. Not being at home here in Italy, not having my own space, not being able to help Deo get to sleep, not feeling connected to friends from around the world, not feeling at home where I grew up, not having run in the morning - I was just full to the brim of reasons I was a complete failure and why I might as well just melt into the sheets.
I didn't. I stop crying for just a moment and looked around at the room in the dark. I never close my shutters. The room is different in the dark, unfriendly. Hollow. Empty. With the light from even the small window, it is alive. I am alive. And that's when it hit me, I'm an idiot. I can sit here and feel sorry for my stupid self or I can get up and go outside and run in the fading sunlight. I chose a run, light, life.
Maybe you don't know much about who I used to be, and I won't bore you with the tale, but that decisive moment is pretty damn impressive for me. I didn't even hesitate. I realized what a small minded fool I was being and immediately changed it. I could do something about the way I felt so I did. Self pity is overated. And only bugs lie in the dark.
Now, on the first part of my run I was still spouting anger, hostility, and self pity. And then... well, first I should explain my route. First we have the drive. There is a small amount of flat or slight incline, maybe a quarter mile. Then you have the rest of the drive which is maybe an 85 degree angle? For about 100 yards? It's fantastical, I swear ((by the way, the flat of the drive is also only about 100 yards - I had a misthought)). From there I run past the bar and horse boy's land, the church, and the sheep. It's flatish with only a couple small dips and ups for probably 2 miles. Probably a little less. I go past the pretty dog and the cute house with the dead cactus and the chickens Otto eats, then I descend for a little over 100 yards past the beautiful house and then right back up for another hundred yards to where the pavement ends. This is where I kind of lose track of how far the distance is. It's a beautiful road out on the ridge where you can see miles and miles of Tuscany. It is just breath taking. By far the most beautiful part of the run. This is where I let it all go. All the bad I had been feeling just melted with the sun. I took deep breaths and just let go and pounded myself into the dust. This was also the point I realized something about myself. That mile of my run is the most beautiful and calming and unbelievable part, but it's not the part I long for. Not the piece I get the most joy or reward from. From there I descend probably another mile ((once the pavement ends, my approximations are really just that, I have no idea how far it is really)). Then I turn left and follow the flat of the valley for maybe 3 miles? Then I reach the hill. It's about a mile up. Maybe that's an exaggeration, but it's insane. Then I have to continue on home for maybe another 1/2 mile. The top of the hill makes me smile, which probably means I'm clinically insane. But for me, the best part of the run is not the last quarter mile when I am sprinting in, despite sweat and pain and aches and exhaustion. The best part for me is when I get through the gate into our parking drive and know I did it. I ran that whole 7ish miles on Tuscan hills without stopping or water breaks or anyone cheering me on or cool weather - I did it. I accomplished exactly what I set out to do and I didn't hesitate or doubt. I did it. That's the real challenge, the real success.
I am reminded this evening how lucky I am to be surrounded by people who love and support me. By Eliza and Enzo, who love me as a friend and a daughter. By Eda who adores me even if she'll never admit it. By boysies who give me unconditional love and adoration, what more could a woman want? By my wonderful parents who love and support me even if they don't understand me. My grandparents who only ever believe in me. My aunts and uncles who think I'm crazy. My cousins who know I am. Kendall, KGeiger, Samijo, KPLegend, Maddy, Topher, Wesley, Yustin, Seanathan, Maryanne, Jo, Katiebelle, Kimberry, Jennifer, Margret, Deanne, Carol, ZP, Zach, Justin, CB, Jaders, Aaron, Jak, Becca, Cristian, RR, Jesus, Will, and everyone else who tell me to go for it, no matter what. Oh and BWat and JFray and Alayna and Maggie and Coco and Nik and Frank and AaronAaron and, oh gracious just everyone! I am honestly the luckiest lady there is.
With exhaustion and love.
Cheers,
I didn't. I stop crying for just a moment and looked around at the room in the dark. I never close my shutters. The room is different in the dark, unfriendly. Hollow. Empty. With the light from even the small window, it is alive. I am alive. And that's when it hit me, I'm an idiot. I can sit here and feel sorry for my stupid self or I can get up and go outside and run in the fading sunlight. I chose a run, light, life.
Maybe you don't know much about who I used to be, and I won't bore you with the tale, but that decisive moment is pretty damn impressive for me. I didn't even hesitate. I realized what a small minded fool I was being and immediately changed it. I could do something about the way I felt so I did. Self pity is overated. And only bugs lie in the dark.
Now, on the first part of my run I was still spouting anger, hostility, and self pity. And then... well, first I should explain my route. First we have the drive. There is a small amount of flat or slight incline, maybe a quarter mile. Then you have the rest of the drive which is maybe an 85 degree angle? For about 100 yards? It's fantastical, I swear ((by the way, the flat of the drive is also only about 100 yards - I had a misthought)). From there I run past the bar and horse boy's land, the church, and the sheep. It's flatish with only a couple small dips and ups for probably 2 miles. Probably a little less. I go past the pretty dog and the cute house with the dead cactus and the chickens Otto eats, then I descend for a little over 100 yards past the beautiful house and then right back up for another hundred yards to where the pavement ends. This is where I kind of lose track of how far the distance is. It's a beautiful road out on the ridge where you can see miles and miles of Tuscany. It is just breath taking. By far the most beautiful part of the run. This is where I let it all go. All the bad I had been feeling just melted with the sun. I took deep breaths and just let go and pounded myself into the dust. This was also the point I realized something about myself. That mile of my run is the most beautiful and calming and unbelievable part, but it's not the part I long for. Not the piece I get the most joy or reward from. From there I descend probably another mile ((once the pavement ends, my approximations are really just that, I have no idea how far it is really)). Then I turn left and follow the flat of the valley for maybe 3 miles? Then I reach the hill. It's about a mile up. Maybe that's an exaggeration, but it's insane. Then I have to continue on home for maybe another 1/2 mile. The top of the hill makes me smile, which probably means I'm clinically insane. But for me, the best part of the run is not the last quarter mile when I am sprinting in, despite sweat and pain and aches and exhaustion. The best part for me is when I get through the gate into our parking drive and know I did it. I ran that whole 7ish miles on Tuscan hills without stopping or water breaks or anyone cheering me on or cool weather - I did it. I accomplished exactly what I set out to do and I didn't hesitate or doubt. I did it. That's the real challenge, the real success.
I am reminded this evening how lucky I am to be surrounded by people who love and support me. By Eliza and Enzo, who love me as a friend and a daughter. By Eda who adores me even if she'll never admit it. By boysies who give me unconditional love and adoration, what more could a woman want? By my wonderful parents who love and support me even if they don't understand me. My grandparents who only ever believe in me. My aunts and uncles who think I'm crazy. My cousins who know I am. Kendall, KGeiger, Samijo, KPLegend, Maddy, Topher, Wesley, Yustin, Seanathan, Maryanne, Jo, Katiebelle, Kimberry, Jennifer, Margret, Deanne, Carol, ZP, Zach, Justin, CB, Jaders, Aaron, Jak, Becca, Cristian, RR, Jesus, Will, and everyone else who tell me to go for it, no matter what. Oh and BWat and JFray and Alayna and Maggie and Coco and Nik and Frank and AaronAaron and, oh gracious just everyone! I am honestly the luckiest lady there is.
With exhaustion and love.
Cheers,
08 June 2010
0430
Four thirty AM and I have a love//hate relationship. I hit my alarm and can't seem to imagine anything worse than leaving my nice warm bed. I brush my teeth, stumble downstairs, gulp some water, and wish I was still seeeing the inside of my eyelids. I never hate 0430 more than in that first 10 minutes. But then, I fumble outthe laundry room door and stretch for 30 seconds just taking in the phenomenal Tuscan skyline, I push play on my itouch and start up the driveway. At that point, four thirty becomes my refuge. The sky is fading into a sunrise and even the birds haven't yet risen to greet the day. Everything smells fresh and I hardly remember anyone else even exists, it's just me and the rest of the world. Just the two of us, belonging soley to one another.
This morning I pushed myself up the drive. I am not so fond of hills, so I typically use them as recovery and take it easy then push myself on the flats or even downhill. But I wasn't exhausted yesterday. I hurt a little and I was tired, but that's not good enough. I'm not looking to bump my mile down a minute, I am trying to summit a mountain. The mountain. I want to feel aches in places I forgot hurt from running. So I pushed. I went up the drive, down the road, out onto the walk-ridge, and then I reached where we turn around on walk. I knew the road continued in and eventually down into the valley and then back up, but I wasn't sure how far it was. I decided for it. I followed the road out across the entire ridge which was maybe a half mile. Then down about a mile of hill at which point I turned left to loop back towards the hill I knew was going to be hell, but the road just kept going. One mile, two... My body knows well enough the 1mi, 3mi, and 5mile marks but anything above that just kind of blurs together. It's the reason I made such a good XC runner, I can't sprint for a dime but I will run you into the ground if you try to keep with me. By the time I reached the hil, my whole body ached with the numbness that comes from 5mi and up but I still pushed myself up that ridiculous hill. It's about a mile of maybe a 65+ degree incline. I killed it. I kept my speed and ran about 75% all the way up that sucker. I reached the top and continued to push the entire mile or so home. Including a solid spring the last quarter mile. I'd love to know exactly how far I went, maybe I'll dock it sometime. I did the whole loop in a little less than 1 1/2 hours, feels good. My legs are killing me and I am effectively exhausted. Think I'll do the whole thing again tomorrow.
Eliza mentioned getting a jogging stroller in Vermont to take Antonio out in the mornings so she can sleep. I don't know if that was a serious statement but I think that's a great idea. Combining pleasure with passion equals awesomeness.
This morning I pushed myself up the drive. I am not so fond of hills, so I typically use them as recovery and take it easy then push myself on the flats or even downhill. But I wasn't exhausted yesterday. I hurt a little and I was tired, but that's not good enough. I'm not looking to bump my mile down a minute, I am trying to summit a mountain. The mountain. I want to feel aches in places I forgot hurt from running. So I pushed. I went up the drive, down the road, out onto the walk-ridge, and then I reached where we turn around on walk. I knew the road continued in and eventually down into the valley and then back up, but I wasn't sure how far it was. I decided for it. I followed the road out across the entire ridge which was maybe a half mile. Then down about a mile of hill at which point I turned left to loop back towards the hill I knew was going to be hell, but the road just kept going. One mile, two... My body knows well enough the 1mi, 3mi, and 5mile marks but anything above that just kind of blurs together. It's the reason I made such a good XC runner, I can't sprint for a dime but I will run you into the ground if you try to keep with me. By the time I reached the hil, my whole body ached with the numbness that comes from 5mi and up but I still pushed myself up that ridiculous hill. It's about a mile of maybe a 65+ degree incline. I killed it. I kept my speed and ran about 75% all the way up that sucker. I reached the top and continued to push the entire mile or so home. Including a solid spring the last quarter mile. I'd love to know exactly how far I went, maybe I'll dock it sometime. I did the whole loop in a little less than 1 1/2 hours, feels good. My legs are killing me and I am effectively exhausted. Think I'll do the whole thing again tomorrow.
Eliza mentioned getting a jogging stroller in Vermont to take Antonio out in the mornings so she can sleep. I don't know if that was a serious statement but I think that's a great idea. Combining pleasure with passion equals awesomeness.
06 June 2010
Day One
I said it before and I'll say it again, I'm changing my life.
I've deleted my other blog and all the previous posts in this one and I am starting from scratch. Did I like what I wrote, for the most part yeah. But I'm starting over and I don't need the things I had before. What brought on this sudden violent change? I have to be the change and the honesty I want to see in the world, thank you Ghandi. No one else can do it for me.
To sum up! I am Malialani, world traveller not-so-extrordinaire. I'm 21 and I have most recently roadtripped the entire West Coast of the US, backpacked all over Peru from Pacific to Andes to Amazon, hung out in New York City, saw the backwards and forwards of DC, spent time in Southern Italy, artdrooled in Barcelona, and had my art displayed in Portugal. I currently reside in San Miniato, Italia and have seen much of the country with the amazing family I live with. I spend most of my time broke, living solely for that next flight to wherever I am headed, and I love it. I am headed towards Eastern Canada and the state of Vermont in just a week for work. My job? I currently take care of one year old triplets, the cutest triplets you've ever seen in your entire life, I might add. I live in a Monet of Tuscan hillside and each day is more beautiful than the next. But don't worry, this traveller isn't settled yet. There is still so much of the world to see and I am all about finding every single corner. To find out more, simply visit stalkmalia.com.
Along with my change of life, I am starting to do something that has never panned out for me in the past. I have a long term goal and a long term plan to go with it. Last time I had one of those? ... oh, wait. Never. I have just recently bounced the idea off my fantastic parents and several close friends and have decided that I am going through with it. What brought this all about is that I experienced disappointment this past week in that a person I thought I knew and absolutely adored turned out to not really exist. I mean, they exist physically, just not as the person they portrayed themselves as. Anyone can spout nonsense into beauty, it takes courage to make things happen. I don't want to be that way, I want to be exactly the way I portray myself. I want people to respect me because I follow through with action, not simply because of the philosophy I have. I want the words I write here in this blog or in emails, the words I speak, even what I think to have meaning. I want dignity. I want change. I want honesty.
I demand more from myself.
I've deleted my other blog and all the previous posts in this one and I am starting from scratch. Did I like what I wrote, for the most part yeah. But I'm starting over and I don't need the things I had before. What brought on this sudden violent change? I have to be the change and the honesty I want to see in the world, thank you Ghandi. No one else can do it for me.
To sum up! I am Malialani, world traveller not-so-extrordinaire. I'm 21 and I have most recently roadtripped the entire West Coast of the US, backpacked all over Peru from Pacific to Andes to Amazon, hung out in New York City, saw the backwards and forwards of DC, spent time in Southern Italy, artdrooled in Barcelona, and had my art displayed in Portugal. I currently reside in San Miniato, Italia and have seen much of the country with the amazing family I live with. I spend most of my time broke, living solely for that next flight to wherever I am headed, and I love it. I am headed towards Eastern Canada and the state of Vermont in just a week for work. My job? I currently take care of one year old triplets, the cutest triplets you've ever seen in your entire life, I might add. I live in a Monet of Tuscan hillside and each day is more beautiful than the next. But don't worry, this traveller isn't settled yet. There is still so much of the world to see and I am all about finding every single corner. To find out more, simply visit stalkmalia.com.
Along with my change of life, I am starting to do something that has never panned out for me in the past. I have a long term goal and a long term plan to go with it. Last time I had one of those? ... oh, wait. Never. I have just recently bounced the idea off my fantastic parents and several close friends and have decided that I am going through with it. What brought this all about is that I experienced disappointment this past week in that a person I thought I knew and absolutely adored turned out to not really exist. I mean, they exist physically, just not as the person they portrayed themselves as. Anyone can spout nonsense into beauty, it takes courage to make things happen. I don't want to be that way, I want to be exactly the way I portray myself. I want people to respect me because I follow through with action, not simply because of the philosophy I have. I want the words I write here in this blog or in emails, the words I speak, even what I think to have meaning. I want dignity. I want change. I want honesty.
I demand more from myself.
01 June 2010
About Me
My name is Malialani, but most people call me Malia. I am a 23 year old self proclaimed vagabond house rose. Vagabond for my love of travel, culture, and peoples of every corner of this earth. House Rose for my devoted adoration of being a wife and mom.
I am married to Marko. We have a fantastic and wonderful love story I am still trying to wrap my head around. I have no idea why he puts up with me, but we happily exist in a state of love, sarcasm, and laughter. People call us M&M and we have a Mini M&M named Rory.
Rory was born the 11th August 2012. His middle name is Heleumau'ilanihekilikahiaualepo'i and he is beautiful. He talks more than Mark and I put together, even if we can't understand what he's saying. He has his daddy's eyes and his momma's smile. We are exhausted and blessed beyond our wildest dreams by him.
Me Then
I sucked my thumb until I was eight. I am devoid of any semblance of an attention span and lover of simple things. I have been to twenty-something countries, speak a smattering of languages, and have no intention of ever getting a degree from university. I love Criminal Minds and Hayao Miyazaki films. I believe in God and I do not believe that makes me better than anyone else. I am overly sarcastic and I like to create. Whether drawing, painting, writing, music, food - it doesn't matter. I hate money. I struggle with being patient and have a penchant for getting walked on by people I consider friends. But I love my life. And that's what's important.
Me Now
Loves of My Life:
Husband Mark. Critter Rory.
Green. Baby sloths. Fresh squeezed lemonade. Tattoos. Yoga. Local produce. Antarctica. Away We Go. Nose rings. Thrift stores. Africa. Film photography. Plaid. Criminal psychology. Homemade anything. History. Old fashioned doughnuts. Casablanca. Pearls. Australia. Mohawks. Jasmin Rice. The Big Year. Comics. God. Folk music. Books. Gardening. Dubstep. Home cooked meals. Central and South Americas. Art. Music that speaks. The Middle East. Brown sugar chai. Mission work.
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