Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Knew Beginnings

Lately I've been learning how to be more and more "minimalist" while also trying to be 100% vegan and also live a more zero waste lifestyle.

And for some reason along the way I have felt that small glow of actual "hope" that I haven't felt in a very long time. 

Not that my life has been dark and dreary and horrible.
It just had an end date that wasn't very far away for a long time because I think I am maybe just a human that is more prone to a "weary" kind of tiredness.

I think for years I was living off of "anticipation" rather than actual hope.
 I got up in the mornings so I could have coffee. 
I went sleep so I could wake up and go to a coffee shop. 

And it made me realize two things (maybe more):
Firstly, that maybe there is a possibility I can live a life that is gentle and healing and experience meaningful connections to people in a realistic way in this tumbling world.

Secondly, I think it made me realize that I think I mistakenly thought the feeling of "anticipation" was "hope."

Turns out it isn't.

Hope feels very different than anticipation. 

For me hope feels,  uh, like this:

Not the bliss-and-crash feeling of "anticipation."

Anticipation = Counterfeit Hope

So the minimalism, vegan, zero waste way of living I've been trying to transition to has just kinda happened to all come together as a healing potion of sorts for me.
(And it is still coming together.)
(I'm learning a lot and also making mistakes a lot.)

It makes me feel that maybe things will float and change and drift in a more manageable and less terrifying and meaningless way as my life continues on.

I won't attempt to explain why all these things make sense all put together for me because it is a very detailed and long and continuous internal journey.
 But here are a few reasons.

Why Minimalism:
I can get incredibly overwhelmed with the day to day tasks if they are placed in the backdrop of all the other stuff I have to do.
Having less stuff = Less stuff to take care of = Time to do adult stuff like bank trips and grocery shopping and trips to the DMV etc. and STILL manage to have more time for self- care and reading for hours at Stell in the early morning and hanging out with friends and family and my dog Ezra (😍).

Also, I just like empty space.

Why Vegan:

I have food problems and I originally thought that trying to be totally vegan would be triggering and cause obsessive thoughts etc.
But it has actually been very healing and food has gotten less scary.
And I feel better spirit wise because I perceive I'm eating more "gently".

Why Zero Waste:

Buying less, re-using and living more intentionally helps the planet and my budget.
So I can work at a job I love with more hope that if I live simply and within my means and save up a bit I can find greater peace in my present.
Learn new things.
Invest in experiences rather than material things.

I still have pretty bad days when life still feels pointless.

(This blog post was an exercise in doing something even though it is pointless.)

But I'm hoping to be able to continue to try to live a
Peaceful, graceful, grateful, gentle and fluid life.
With patience.
 Not complacency.

Also, I am so grateful I get to even contemplate these things.
I am very, very grateful that my life has been one that has allowed this type of freedom and time and the resources to explore these topics and try these things.

I do not presume to know the formula for the perfect most graceful life.
Because, while I try to listen and to understand I know I will never know another human like they know themselves and where they have been and where they are going.

This is just the way I've chosen for now that makes my life feel more illuminated.

Monday, November 6, 2017

Facing Fears

It Helps.

And a strong cup of coffee,
Some good friends,
A great book,
A nostalgic Emo-Punk playlist (that is kinda hilarious),
Funny cat videos,
And a brand new tube of Mascara
also helps.

---> Kinda Hilarious Playlist <--- a="">

Monday, October 23, 2017

Words are Hard

For a while now I have noticed that talking has become more and more difficult over the years. 
Physically it can feel difficult because talking loudly is 
something that is actually very hard for me to do. 
It feels too aggressive to me even though I know it isn't. 
It just feels too abrasive so it's really hard for me to speak even at a normal volume a lot of the time. 
And then when people can't hear me they lean in and then they are really focused on me and then I think I get shy or something and speak even more quietly and then we all laugh about it 
because then they really can't hear me at all so then I have to (do what feels, mentally, like a clap push-up or a jump squat or sprint or something) to speak loudly enough that they can hear me.

It's also difficult mentally.
Mostly I just don't want to talk. 
It feels like a huge effort to speak. 
To almost anyone.
About anything.
Even the people I feel closest to.
99% of the time I just want to not talk anymore.
Just stop.
Not because I'm afraid of what people think of me and the words I say.
Not because I am indifferent towards them.
Not because I'm not interested in what they have to say.
Not because I think words are frivolous.
Not because I don't see the beauty of stories and poetry and imagination.
Not because I think talking is self-indulgent.
Not because I feel negatively towards communicating and connecting.
Not because I don't love listening to others thoughts and dreams etc.
And certainly not because I want to be mysterious or aloof or separate.
I just don't feel the urge to speak all that often. 
And if I do I think it is mostly just a learned thing. 
A habit.
Because most of the time, as soon as I start speaking about anything, even my favorite cereal or what music I like etc.
 I immediately feel bone-tired.
And like mud is sliding from my mouth.
Or like I'm covered in dust.
I just often feel like I am bad at explaining things
 I feel don't need explaining because they change like everything else.

Talking often feels like trying to tie two strands of water together.
It mostly feels pointless.
 I can't not talk.
I work at a very social job.
I am genuinely interested in connecting deeply with other humans
and I feel not talking would imply I don't care.
(I really do care and love listening and connecting)
It is just hard to express that 
when I speak my words are meant to be a passing breeze.
Not a planting of trees.
Things are not solid.
They always change.
So saying words seems to solidify things in a way that makes me feel uncomfortable.
Things change and pass and come and go and I feel sometimes
words can feel like a hang nail that snags on an otherwise smooth cloth.
Or like a congealing of what is meant to be a free flowing substance.
Most of the time talking about things feels like 
I'm grabbing at smoke and then trying to hand it to someone else.
I don't know why.
But words are hard.
But I still speak.
And I know the value of a kind word 
but I also see the truth in a kind deed
 and a comforting gesture.
Pretty words can be spoken
but the truth is in the living of life.
For myself
I hope to live a gentle life.
A kind life.
To somehow convey in my actions that my intentions are pure
And that I only want healing and peace and freedom for this world.
A deep freedom.
The freedom of realizing the strength in you is enough.
The strength to know you have fear in you but to try anyway.
A freedom that leaves kindness and more freedom in it's wake.
A freedom of self-strength and wholeness that is so ingrained that it needs no one else.
But the freedom to choose to be with others anyway.
A love that is born from love
 and not simply an attachment steeped and tied up in fear.

There is so much much much more to all of this than I want to write about.
 But this is a small part of my current thoughts on a few things.

So why the blogpost?
Written word is solid too.

But I also need to assure my mother that I'm not dead.
And she reads my blogs.
Hi, mom! I'm not dead!

Link to a Playlist Called Lately
---lifesabitch---<--- p="">

Saturday, May 27, 2017

Smoke and Mirrors

I've been thinking a lot about "selflessness" lately.
And I've come to the conclusion that, 
to me anyway, 
it does not mean becoming bland, or silent, or the same, or nothing. 
I guess to me I see being selfless as just seeing yourself and others and the natural world as interconnected and ever changing with courage. 
Recognizing yourself and everything and everyone else trying, learning, coming, going, dying, hurting, asking, walking, breathing, listening, overwhelmed, underwhelmed, unkempt, vibrant and endless 
just means you start to see less and less space between you and all of it.

Selflessness is just 
a lessening of the distance.

I guess I've been trying to lessen the distance by asking questions instead of assuming. 
Because I don't think assuming is incredibly helpful.

So I have been asking questions. 
And asking questions and truly listening and trying to understand has turned out to be magical.

In a perfect world the asking of questions can unveil things.
They can help disillusion and correct your vision to some degree.

Clarity and closeness and courage.

However, the world is broken to some degree. 
There is a twist in it. 
But in anycase we naturally all see it differently.

So you may receive false answers to questions honestly asked.
You may speak the familiar language but the ciphers are different.
You may honestly answer questions and find they fail to translate correctly.
You may speak as truthfully as you know how to but find out later you were under informed.
You may act with good intentions but fail.
You may truly care but cling too tightly.
You may truly care but grasp to lightly.
You may be somewhere and elsewhere all at once.
Your mind may breathe and sit in open fields while your hands make coffee drinks. 
You can be with someone only to find they are not with you.

And that's where Grace comes in. 
I use that word because it's my word 
for the beautiful life that is.
 Just because.
It is the giver and the taker.
The balancer.
It is a forgiver and a teacher. 
The change and constancy.
It is the breathing life.

But I suppose an important component to loving and forgiving and the seeing with clarity more easily this world is also the loving and forgiving and the searching and the asking of yourself. 
A finding of peace regardless and forgiving yourself 
 For all the questions you never got or thought to ask.
For all the questions you were to afraid to ask.
For even the times you had no idea how to ask. 
For all the answers you gave with such certainty only to find that later they changed. 
For all the time it took.
For all the time you didn't take.
To watch the fluidity of you mirrored in another and seeing the rippling people pass through your rippling. 
And know that even though you don't know if it will all be alright in the end or not
 but trying not to let that uncertainty harden you or let your fears harm your chances of living fully .
The grace in
Taking care but also 

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Will and Grace

It is the choosing.
And the options.
(But how will I know what to do?)

It is dropping things.
 And picking things up.
(But, wait-)

It is sitting in the shade.
And squinting into the sunlight.
(So what happens if I open my eyes wider?)

It is the burden
And the bearer.
(But how will I know which is which?)

It is a funny remark 
And the sad truth behind it.
(Then how will I know when to laugh?)

It is the asking
And the listening.
(But what questions do I ask?)

It is the building up
And the wearing down
(What will happen when I get worn out?)

It is the holding.
And the letting go.
(But, what if-)

It is the circle 
And the line.
(Then how will I know where to start?)

It is the trying.
 Just because.
(But how can I be sure?)


Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Stranger Thinks

A few months ago I was finally ready to crawl all the way into the hole I'd been preparing for a long time. But I only made it halfway. 
I may have been technically alive but in every other way I was, what I can really only describe as, done. 
And I didn't even want to try to get out of it because I had found a measure of peace in that level of detachment. 

But lately I've had some wonderful opportunities to get to know a few people in my life and have really amazing conversations and have made some really kind and honest connections. And there is also a profound peace in that too. 
I've been dancing a lot.  I've been hanging out more with my friends, I've been visiting some new places and going on adventures.
I've been exploring what I might want to do with my life. 
I'm not going to lie. 
That last one still wrecks me sometimes. 
I think it is just because I forget that I just have to make a choice and move forward and let things unfold and adapt accordingly. But for some reason those decisions can feel like monsters in my chest. But I'm managing to quiet them by remembering:
A) That hypothetical pitfalls are not the same as real pitfalls. 
B) That I'll never truly be stuck. 
C) To chill the fuck out. 
D) To hug my dog.
E) To eat cold cereal and read a book. FOR FUN. (I know. I'm a fucking menace.)

Because, I mean, a lot of life can sort of feel like this:


I've also realized that while I take responsibility for who I am, who I was, and who I am becoming and the choices I have made, and make, and will make I've been helped by the most amazing and kind people along the way when my choices have not worked out as planned. And I am so grateful. And I can only hope that I communicate that gratitude in someway whether it be saying words or giving back in some measure.
I've been finding a lot of joy in being a woman and being human. I've been loving being amongst  women and men and honest and kind humans who inspire me with their courageous vulnerability. 

I've seen and felt a bit of what self-loathing can do. I've seen glimpses of how much pain loved ones in my life are in. I've seen guilt rip people's minds apart. I've seen it devour their sense of self-worth and have also seen it help them make changes in their life.  I have seen anxiety crush them at times. And I know I'm not immune to those feelings either. 
But I think those things can heal. 
Maybe not all the way. 
Maybe not all at once. 
Maybe not all the time. 
Maybe not forever.
But healing can happen.

I just wish they could see and know how good they are. How enough they are. They are not deficient or worthless or trapped. They are big, bright souls that I am so grateful to know. 
I'm surrounded by people who grant me the grace of time and patience even when they are dealing with their own turbulent lives. 

I can offer love, listening, dad jokes and dog memes. 
But often times I find I don't have anything to say in response to their words. 
Because sometimes there are no words that can help.
Or the only words I can think to say seem insufficient. 
But my heart explodes and a hug or standing really close to someone or some other form of appropriate physical affection is all I can give to express that sometimes.

I'm a human. I make coffee drinks for a living. I dance around my house a lot when I'm home alone. I drink too much coffee. I read fantasy novels and books about mindfulness and giggle at weird things sometimes.
My life is wild. I know. 

In any case, I'm waking up again. And it's warm outside.

Music Stuff:
Nobody Speak: DJ Shadow Feat. Run the Jewels
Tsar B: Escalate
Louis the Child: It's Strange