I've decided to take a pause from ::pause:: — permanently.
My apologies to anyone that may actually be reading my blog... your attention is appreciated, and you are a rare gem in this world.
Frankly, I have been too busy enjoying life to stop and write about it, and after 2 months of feeling a nag in the back of my head reminding me that I hadn't blogged in awhile, it occurred to me that, I really don't have to. Ever, if I don't want to.
I find this a proper place to end this blogging adventure, as it was my first foray into the world of online journaling, gave me an outlet when I needed one, and will make a nice 'book' when my mother-in-law staples all the print-outs together (I think you're my only loyal reader!) I have grown extensively from this experience, and learned a tremendous amount about dancing the fine line between personal and public, news-worthy and best-kept-to-myself, and enlightening versus whiny drivel.
Oddly enough, I blog daily... in my head. The problem is that I have more ideas for articles than I have time to write them. Over the past few months, I've envisioned reports about my adventures in the world of Web Design working on a major e-commerce site and traveling for big meetings and presentations, my weekend yoga retreat and renewal experience at Kripalu, my guest blogging invitation from International Interior Design Association Student Blog, news and updates about The Brave and the Kind, or our weekend escapade in New York.
At some point, I may write again... but for now, I prefer to spend the time pausing to myself. Thanks for listening... adeiu.
p.s. There are still too many places to keep up with me: flickr, my site, College Aftermath, Facebook ...
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
A Rocky Start
Re-reading my last post, I'm realizing that oftentimes the goals that seem simplest to reach are actually the most challenging.
Be present, rest, and be grateful. Sounds good, right? Certainly an attainable goal for 2009! Why, it's nearing February and I should practically have it crossed off the list by now, right?
Wrong.
Be present.
Being mindfully aware - or, paying attention to your thought patterns and pausing within the moment for reflection and assessment - is so much more difficult than it sounds. Every day of our life we continue to reinforce and deepen the habits of thought and emotional reactions that define our personality. Our responses to stress, fear, anger, frustration; whether we see the glass as empty or half-full; whether we flip-off the driver that cut us off or choose to send them thoughts of goodwill and less aggression; our association of comfort in a glass of wine, a heaping helping of chocolate cake, or a frivolous purchase for [insert random item here] that we don't actually need.
Being 'present' essentially addresses the core of who we are as a human being with patterns, habits, and reactionary tendencies. By being present, one hopes to pause - both literally and figuratively - to draw the mind away from it's usual pathways and redirect it into healthier ones, or pathways that aim in the direction of change we hope to attain. In other words, if my hope is to eat well, and eating well means no more late-night binging on Ben & Jerry's or chocolate bars, then practicing presence would require a few moments of self-assessment and change in habit: 1) deciding not to purchase said items at the grocery store, and 2) pausing to control the cravings and replace them with healthier options. But even in a simple example like this one, there are a myriad of scenarios that complicate the situation. For example, I may want to keep a chocolate bar in the cupboard but learn to nibble at it over the course of a few weeks. Or, what if I'm at my in-laws, and they've just returned from a trip to Italy (a common situation) and there are truffles and dark chocolate, and milk chocolates, and... well, you get the idea.
Regardless of whether I'm talking about eating well or trying to change negative thought patterns or curbing unhealthy responses to stress, the point is that while being present is key, it is much more difficult than it sounds.
Rest.
Ah, rest. Another seemingly simple objective: recognize when your body needs a break, and take it. Why is this such a challenge for me? Perhaps it's genetic: my grandmother is fighting cancer right now, and I have no doubt that much of her ailments stem from years and years of pushing herself, ignoring pain, and rarely taking a moment to relax. My Mom? Same story. She works, works, works... takes care of everyone else, keeps the house tidy, bakes and cooks and almost never, ever stops to breathe, rejuvenate, and collect herself.
You would think that seeing the patterns in my Mother and Grandma would make it easier to change in myself. But for the women in my family, when there's work to be done, all else goes on hold. This past month, I had two major presentations for work, each one requiring hard work and long hours. But for me, I bring the work home, taxing my mind with worry and stress about doing the best job possible. After the first presentation, I crashed with a nasty cold. And after the second, which was yesterday, I find myself weak and exhausted. I know that I should rest today... but sadly, it seems that I need to be forced to before I actually make the effort.
Be grateful.
We're all wrapped up in our little worlds... our little "bubbles," as I like to refer to them. Sometimes it really is hard to see the forest from the trees. Just the fact that I'm sitting in a warm apartment, using a laptop, and enjoying a hot cup of coffee is reason enough to be thankful, especially when you change perspective and realize how many people in this world don't have the simple things we take for granted every single day.
But it is so much easier to say "I'll be grateful" than it is to actually feel appreciation throughout the day - especially in trying times. When work has you stressed out, it's rare that your first thought is "Well, I'm grateful to have this job and this opportunity. Stress means that I care, and I'm grateful that I care so much." Or, for example, this month - when my car heater had decided to break down during the coldest weeks of the year - it was a challenge to remember how lucky I am to even have my own car, one that works and gets me to and from work each day, when I'm freezing my toosh off and stuck in morning traffic.
Gratitude, like presence, and rest, are right there, on the tip of my thoughts every day, yet sometimes so out of reach — so difficult to grasp and bring into my life. Instead, at the end of the first month in 2009, I find myself more off-balance than usual - frustrated with my inability to relax, my seemingly uncontrollable physical reactions to stress, and the irritable (and ungrateful) attitude that this cycle creates.
I guess the lesson for now begins with recognizing the challenges that lay ahead and remembering to just take it one step at a time. Rerouting your brain and changing the way you think and respond to life's stresses cannot happen overnight. Instead, I suppose we all need to realize when the goals we set for ourselves will require a lifetime of attention, and that if we hold in our minds the idea of whom we want to become, stepping forth each day with that person on the horizon, one day—perhaps years or decades from now—we'll realize that person is who we are.
Be present, rest, and be grateful. Sounds good, right? Certainly an attainable goal for 2009! Why, it's nearing February and I should practically have it crossed off the list by now, right?
Wrong.
Be present.
Being mindfully aware - or, paying attention to your thought patterns and pausing within the moment for reflection and assessment - is so much more difficult than it sounds. Every day of our life we continue to reinforce and deepen the habits of thought and emotional reactions that define our personality. Our responses to stress, fear, anger, frustration; whether we see the glass as empty or half-full; whether we flip-off the driver that cut us off or choose to send them thoughts of goodwill and less aggression; our association of comfort in a glass of wine, a heaping helping of chocolate cake, or a frivolous purchase for [insert random item here] that we don't actually need.
Being 'present' essentially addresses the core of who we are as a human being with patterns, habits, and reactionary tendencies. By being present, one hopes to pause - both literally and figuratively - to draw the mind away from it's usual pathways and redirect it into healthier ones, or pathways that aim in the direction of change we hope to attain. In other words, if my hope is to eat well, and eating well means no more late-night binging on Ben & Jerry's or chocolate bars, then practicing presence would require a few moments of self-assessment and change in habit: 1) deciding not to purchase said items at the grocery store, and 2) pausing to control the cravings and replace them with healthier options. But even in a simple example like this one, there are a myriad of scenarios that complicate the situation. For example, I may want to keep a chocolate bar in the cupboard but learn to nibble at it over the course of a few weeks. Or, what if I'm at my in-laws, and they've just returned from a trip to Italy (a common situation) and there are truffles and dark chocolate, and milk chocolates, and... well, you get the idea.
Regardless of whether I'm talking about eating well or trying to change negative thought patterns or curbing unhealthy responses to stress, the point is that while being present is key, it is much more difficult than it sounds.
Rest.
Ah, rest. Another seemingly simple objective: recognize when your body needs a break, and take it. Why is this such a challenge for me? Perhaps it's genetic: my grandmother is fighting cancer right now, and I have no doubt that much of her ailments stem from years and years of pushing herself, ignoring pain, and rarely taking a moment to relax. My Mom? Same story. She works, works, works... takes care of everyone else, keeps the house tidy, bakes and cooks and almost never, ever stops to breathe, rejuvenate, and collect herself.
You would think that seeing the patterns in my Mother and Grandma would make it easier to change in myself. But for the women in my family, when there's work to be done, all else goes on hold. This past month, I had two major presentations for work, each one requiring hard work and long hours. But for me, I bring the work home, taxing my mind with worry and stress about doing the best job possible. After the first presentation, I crashed with a nasty cold. And after the second, which was yesterday, I find myself weak and exhausted. I know that I should rest today... but sadly, it seems that I need to be forced to before I actually make the effort.
Be grateful.
We're all wrapped up in our little worlds... our little "bubbles," as I like to refer to them. Sometimes it really is hard to see the forest from the trees. Just the fact that I'm sitting in a warm apartment, using a laptop, and enjoying a hot cup of coffee is reason enough to be thankful, especially when you change perspective and realize how many people in this world don't have the simple things we take for granted every single day.
But it is so much easier to say "I'll be grateful" than it is to actually feel appreciation throughout the day - especially in trying times. When work has you stressed out, it's rare that your first thought is "Well, I'm grateful to have this job and this opportunity. Stress means that I care, and I'm grateful that I care so much." Or, for example, this month - when my car heater had decided to break down during the coldest weeks of the year - it was a challenge to remember how lucky I am to even have my own car, one that works and gets me to and from work each day, when I'm freezing my toosh off and stuck in morning traffic.
Gratitude, like presence, and rest, are right there, on the tip of my thoughts every day, yet sometimes so out of reach — so difficult to grasp and bring into my life. Instead, at the end of the first month in 2009, I find myself more off-balance than usual - frustrated with my inability to relax, my seemingly uncontrollable physical reactions to stress, and the irritable (and ungrateful) attitude that this cycle creates.
I guess the lesson for now begins with recognizing the challenges that lay ahead and remembering to just take it one step at a time. Rerouting your brain and changing the way you think and respond to life's stresses cannot happen overnight. Instead, I suppose we all need to realize when the goals we set for ourselves will require a lifetime of attention, and that if we hold in our minds the idea of whom we want to become, stepping forth each day with that person on the horizon, one day—perhaps years or decades from now—we'll realize that person is who we are.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
10,000 Days (and counting)
Last week I was doing research on a project for work when I stumbled upon a website (though not a design specimen by any means) that calculates your "Decimal Birthday." Since I spent much of my day clicking randomly around the web, it easily could have been a forgettable stop on my roundabout search. Curious, though, I entered my information and discovered that only twenty days ago - sometime in the middle of my hectic December - I turned 10,000 days old.
Ten Thousand. Something about that number hit me - that's a lot of days. Often, I still think of myself as young. And being 27 years old, I suppose in the grand scheme of things I absolutely am quite young. But the concept of 10,000 days had me stirring in my seat, and it's popped in my mind a few times since...
How have I spent all of those days?
Have I really lived and enjoyed each one?
Being on the brink of a new 10,000 days, and at the start of a brand new year, is there anything I could be doing better?
Without too much hesitation, I already knew my answer.
These past two months have disintegrated, and I've found myself tromping through each day blindly, like an Eskimo in a snowstorm, trudging ahead through gusts of whiteout nothingness, mind fixed on the warmth and comfort that lies ahead, somewhere in the distance. It's almost like I've gone on auto-pilot, pausing to make to-do lists that map out my days, and pushing myself until I'm glugging orange juice and multi-vitamins to keep from catching cold. This weekend - well, actually today - was the day I finally reached the luminous warmth and comfort ahead: a full day with nothing to do. And yet I find myself scheduling in "yoga" and "take a bubble bath" because I fear if I don't seize the free moment it will be gone again...
December is a complete blur in my memory... shopping trips, wrapping presents, making gifts, baking cookies, decorating, driving driving driving, snowstorms, scraping ice, parties, wine, eating eating eating... And here I am on the other side of it, in my moment of peace, and how do I feel? Bloated, tired, and still fending off the same cold I've been fighting for weeks. This is not the way to start a new year, and especially not how to step forward into a new 10,000 days!
So when one feels out of whack and off-kilter, it's always best to gain some perspective:
Last year I set some steep goals for myself when facing 2008. I learned pretty quickly to be realistic and set a pace I could live with, and peering back at the year I have to admit that I am pretty damn proud of myself:
2008 Resolutions Accomplished
√ Learn advanced CSS development
√ Yoga twice (or more) a week
√ Drink less
√ Work on new web projects
Other Accomplishments I didn't plan for...
√ Attend my first Web Conference and befriend fellow geeks
√ Find a new job that fits, with ample room to grow
√ Kickstart my freelance career
√ Redesign my personal website
So, in retrospect I shouldn't be so hard on myself. '08 was a fabulous year in that I set out with one positive goal in mind: be healthier in mind and body. And with that as the milestone to reach, I took care of myself and became more fit than ever while finally finding my 'place' and confidence as a member of the giant Web world. It's that attitude that I need to hurtle me into 2009 and another successful 10,000 days.
So how can I do better? How can I set a precedent to get the most out of each day to come? With one very important new goal: Maintain the level of balance I discovered last year but focus on finding time each day to rest, be present, and be grateful.
From the mindset of presence and gratitude, anything else can be accomplished and realized quite easily. The other goals I've set for myself in '09 are:
Ten Thousand. Something about that number hit me - that's a lot of days. Often, I still think of myself as young. And being 27 years old, I suppose in the grand scheme of things I absolutely am quite young. But the concept of 10,000 days had me stirring in my seat, and it's popped in my mind a few times since...
How have I spent all of those days?
Have I really lived and enjoyed each one?
Being on the brink of a new 10,000 days, and at the start of a brand new year, is there anything I could be doing better?
Without too much hesitation, I already knew my answer.
These past two months have disintegrated, and I've found myself tromping through each day blindly, like an Eskimo in a snowstorm, trudging ahead through gusts of whiteout nothingness, mind fixed on the warmth and comfort that lies ahead, somewhere in the distance. It's almost like I've gone on auto-pilot, pausing to make to-do lists that map out my days, and pushing myself until I'm glugging orange juice and multi-vitamins to keep from catching cold. This weekend - well, actually today - was the day I finally reached the luminous warmth and comfort ahead: a full day with nothing to do. And yet I find myself scheduling in "yoga" and "take a bubble bath" because I fear if I don't seize the free moment it will be gone again...
December is a complete blur in my memory... shopping trips, wrapping presents, making gifts, baking cookies, decorating, driving driving driving, snowstorms, scraping ice, parties, wine, eating eating eating... And here I am on the other side of it, in my moment of peace, and how do I feel? Bloated, tired, and still fending off the same cold I've been fighting for weeks. This is not the way to start a new year, and especially not how to step forward into a new 10,000 days!
So when one feels out of whack and off-kilter, it's always best to gain some perspective:
Last year I set some steep goals for myself when facing 2008. I learned pretty quickly to be realistic and set a pace I could live with, and peering back at the year I have to admit that I am pretty damn proud of myself:
2008 Resolutions Accomplished
√ Learn advanced CSS development
√ Yoga twice (or more) a week
√ Drink less
√ Work on new web projects
Other Accomplishments I didn't plan for...
√ Attend my first Web Conference and befriend fellow geeks
√ Find a new job that fits, with ample room to grow
√ Kickstart my freelance career
√ Redesign my personal website
So, in retrospect I shouldn't be so hard on myself. '08 was a fabulous year in that I set out with one positive goal in mind: be healthier in mind and body. And with that as the milestone to reach, I took care of myself and became more fit than ever while finally finding my 'place' and confidence as a member of the giant Web world. It's that attitude that I need to hurtle me into 2009 and another successful 10,000 days.
So how can I do better? How can I set a precedent to get the most out of each day to come? With one very important new goal: Maintain the level of balance I discovered last year but focus on finding time each day to rest, be present, and be grateful.
From the mindset of presence and gratitude, anything else can be accomplished and realized quite easily. The other goals I've set for myself in '09 are:
- get more fresh air (in other words, leave the computer behind every so often...)
- read 1 book each month
- cut out processed foods from my diet
- continue deepening my yoga practice (maybe attend a retreat?)
- plant a vegetable garden
- finish paying off our credit cards (we're almost there!)
- Learn javascript
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Send My Grandma to Italy
Always the coolest, Gram (second from left) parties with the girls at my sister's Bachelorette party in the spring of 2008.Two months ago, only weeks before my little sister's wedding, my family received some devastating news: my grandma, only 72 years old, had stage 4 cancer of the lung, liver, lymph nodes, and spleen. It was a slow, dreadful diagnosis with each new test revealing worse news. The prescription? Immediate chemotherapy, with the hopes that it, along with other meds, would give her another year, and hopefully more.
My maternal grandma's real name is Raphael - but she's always gone by "Rae," and half of my name comes from hers (the other half is my other Grandma, Anne). She always been an amazing grandmother... fun, loving, and endlessly supportive, she's lived a simple life and never asked for much. Yet she's always dreamed big, and has always wanted to travel... especially to Italy, where her father was born before he immigrated to the states years ago.
Modeling her new curly blond wig, Gram is all smiles after seeing the launch of her new website. Her chemo treatments are going well, and she was feeling great for Thanksgiving.When my Mom called me that cool September morning and told me the news about Gram, for some strange reason this little thought was the first thing that came to mind: We have to take grandma to Italy. I said it to my Mom on the phone, and she responded with, "I know. But how?"
I wouldn't let it go, and immediately started dreaming up a way to do so. I would build a website and tell her story. I would collect donations via PayPal. I would send it to everyone I know. I would ask my mother-in-law, Noreen, (a part-time travel agent) to keep her eyes peeled for deals to Rome and Tuscany. I would find a way!
After a month of writing, gathering and scanning photos, and living in front of the computer, I'm happy to announce that SendMyGrandmatoItaly.com is now live and functioning! Check it out, pass it on, spread the word, and please help me make my Gram's wish come true!
Friday, November 7, 2008
Welcome, Change
I've heard people joke that the only thing certain about life is death and taxes. I'd argue that they're forgetting something else we can always count on: change. I'd also argue that of the three, it's the most troublesome... because unlike death and taxes, change is a constant, weighing reality that often makes life feel somewhat like a day at an amusement park: one minute we're enjoying an ice cream as we stroll along peacefully, and the next we're dangling upside down, screaming at the top of our lungs... half amused, and half terrified.
This past month, for me, can be best equated with the Sky Coaster.
The first time I decided to take flight on the Sky Coaster I was fifteen, quiet, but never one to turn down a challenge. I booked my 20 minute slot for later in the afternoon and spent the entire day trying to ignore the butterflies in my tummy. When my turn came, me and my 2 fellow flyers went through a brief safety tutorial, signed a waiver, and stepped into our harnesses before being tugged backwards, inch by inch, up an 18-story tower. The closer we were drawn to the top, the more my insides fluttered and churned with anticipation, the world below shrinking and fading into a surreal tapestry of miniatures. We reached the top and for a moment felt completely powerless... no longer remembering why I had gotten myself into this situation. And then, 3...2...1.... fly.
We pulled our rip-cord, and for two full seconds I dove, face-first, arms outstretched, wind rushing through my hair... and for one beautiful moment I was free, flying, adrenaline pulsing through every inch of me. And just as quickly as it happened, the bungee cord caught our weight and we swung out... out... and up again, sailing over the park and our family below, screaming and laughing through tears. We reached our peak, and gravity pulled us back again for another ride. There we swang, back and forth, squealing with joy, until gravity finally won... our feet returned to earth, our faces wild-eyed, our hair messed, our spirits soaring. It took me all night to calm down, and for the few hours after I flew on the Sky Coaster, I felt invincible.
The ride began last month, when after months and months of feeling the stir of change on the horizon, I found myself at a job interview at Overit Media in Albany, NY. I knew that it was only a matter of time before the right opportunity found me, and I knew after two hours of chatting with my soon-to-be creative teammates, I knew this was it. It took a few days to iron out the details, but in less than a week my entire life turned upside down and I found myself in a nose-dive, thrilled with the inevitable plunge I had been stressing about for months.
That same anxious feeling that had ignited this change was also pulling us south, and just as I accepted the Web Designer position at Overit, we found ourselves flying around Troy, hunting for a new apartment that would put us closer to our jobs, closer to family, and closer to the hopping cultural scene we've been craving. We coasted back and forth... first wanting to live on the park, then considering buying a house, before finally settling on a beautifully renovated 3rd floor townhouse in the heart of downtown, complete with an in-ground backyard swimming pool. My heart was in my throat, the excitement too much to take!
Within two weeks we found ourselves completely entrenched in the ride of change that we could no longer escape... the inertia kept pressing us forward, and we found ourselves in New York, celebrating new jobs and new adventures with good friends, drinking scotch and wine at cigar bars after eating nachos and tater tots at a bar called "Trailer Park." And the pendulum kept swinging.
Days later we were picking up boxes at the liquor store, packing and sorting our things, cleaning, recruiting a moving team of friends, and reserving a U-Haul. And in three exhausting days last weekend we finished packing, moved in completely, and unpacked our entire house.
On Monday I collapsed... my body wrecked from the change train that just kept going... I took a day to rest and regenerate, but I could feel myself still swinging. The ride wasn't quite over.
And then Tuesday came, and in one last wave everything converged like fireworks, and life exploded in spurts and bursts of emotion. In the morning, our car was towed and we found ourselves forking out $150 to get it back. In the afternoon, we made a left turn in heavy traffic and collided with another car, smashing our front-end and ending up with a ticket - that made 2 in one day! And then, in the evening, our saving grace: Barack Obama was elected president.
Since Tuesday night I can feel the change bubbling, the excitement mounting, and a bristle of energy in the air. I'm tired... absolutely exhausted... but the pulse isn't slowing, and the tide hasn't come in. I can feel a hum of change under the surface of everything, and instead of waiting, waiting, and wondering when I'll touch the ground, instead I'm looking for the next gush of air - the next joyous spree of life, flinging me and the world in a new direction.
I'll be starting my new job a week from Monday, and the holidays are just around the corner. After that, John will be starting grad school at SUNY Albany, eventually phasing out his job at Skidmore College next summer. At some point, I'm sure, things will calm down again and I'll find myself standing still in the thrill of my own quiet moment, meditating on the churning of time that allows for these crazy ups and downs. For now, I'm loving the ride... and the rush of not knowing what will come next. But it'll be nice, I know, to find myself giddy and glowing, ready to conquer the world, whenever my feet do come back down to the earth.
This past month, for me, can be best equated with the Sky Coaster.
The first time I decided to take flight on the Sky Coaster I was fifteen, quiet, but never one to turn down a challenge. I booked my 20 minute slot for later in the afternoon and spent the entire day trying to ignore the butterflies in my tummy. When my turn came, me and my 2 fellow flyers went through a brief safety tutorial, signed a waiver, and stepped into our harnesses before being tugged backwards, inch by inch, up an 18-story tower. The closer we were drawn to the top, the more my insides fluttered and churned with anticipation, the world below shrinking and fading into a surreal tapestry of miniatures. We reached the top and for a moment felt completely powerless... no longer remembering why I had gotten myself into this situation. And then, 3...2...1.... fly.
We pulled our rip-cord, and for two full seconds I dove, face-first, arms outstretched, wind rushing through my hair... and for one beautiful moment I was free, flying, adrenaline pulsing through every inch of me. And just as quickly as it happened, the bungee cord caught our weight and we swung out... out... and up again, sailing over the park and our family below, screaming and laughing through tears. We reached our peak, and gravity pulled us back again for another ride. There we swang, back and forth, squealing with joy, until gravity finally won... our feet returned to earth, our faces wild-eyed, our hair messed, our spirits soaring. It took me all night to calm down, and for the few hours after I flew on the Sky Coaster, I felt invincible.
The ride began last month, when after months and months of feeling the stir of change on the horizon, I found myself at a job interview at Overit Media in Albany, NY. I knew that it was only a matter of time before the right opportunity found me, and I knew after two hours of chatting with my soon-to-be creative teammates, I knew this was it. It took a few days to iron out the details, but in less than a week my entire life turned upside down and I found myself in a nose-dive, thrilled with the inevitable plunge I had been stressing about for months.
That same anxious feeling that had ignited this change was also pulling us south, and just as I accepted the Web Designer position at Overit, we found ourselves flying around Troy, hunting for a new apartment that would put us closer to our jobs, closer to family, and closer to the hopping cultural scene we've been craving. We coasted back and forth... first wanting to live on the park, then considering buying a house, before finally settling on a beautifully renovated 3rd floor townhouse in the heart of downtown, complete with an in-ground backyard swimming pool. My heart was in my throat, the excitement too much to take!
Within two weeks we found ourselves completely entrenched in the ride of change that we could no longer escape... the inertia kept pressing us forward, and we found ourselves in New York, celebrating new jobs and new adventures with good friends, drinking scotch and wine at cigar bars after eating nachos and tater tots at a bar called "Trailer Park." And the pendulum kept swinging.
Days later we were picking up boxes at the liquor store, packing and sorting our things, cleaning, recruiting a moving team of friends, and reserving a U-Haul. And in three exhausting days last weekend we finished packing, moved in completely, and unpacked our entire house.
On Monday I collapsed... my body wrecked from the change train that just kept going... I took a day to rest and regenerate, but I could feel myself still swinging. The ride wasn't quite over.
And then Tuesday came, and in one last wave everything converged like fireworks, and life exploded in spurts and bursts of emotion. In the morning, our car was towed and we found ourselves forking out $150 to get it back. In the afternoon, we made a left turn in heavy traffic and collided with another car, smashing our front-end and ending up with a ticket - that made 2 in one day! And then, in the evening, our saving grace: Barack Obama was elected president.
Since Tuesday night I can feel the change bubbling, the excitement mounting, and a bristle of energy in the air. I'm tired... absolutely exhausted... but the pulse isn't slowing, and the tide hasn't come in. I can feel a hum of change under the surface of everything, and instead of waiting, waiting, and wondering when I'll touch the ground, instead I'm looking for the next gush of air - the next joyous spree of life, flinging me and the world in a new direction.
I'll be starting my new job a week from Monday, and the holidays are just around the corner. After that, John will be starting grad school at SUNY Albany, eventually phasing out his job at Skidmore College next summer. At some point, I'm sure, things will calm down again and I'll find myself standing still in the thrill of my own quiet moment, meditating on the churning of time that allows for these crazy ups and downs. For now, I'm loving the ride... and the rush of not knowing what will come next. But it'll be nice, I know, to find myself giddy and glowing, ready to conquer the world, whenever my feet do come back down to the earth.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Where did September go?
September whirled by like a tumbleweed in a tornado... I was so busy-busy that I almost didn't notice autumn sneaking up on me. But now fall has finally descended upon the Northeast - the days are crisp and cool, the air smells damp and fresh, and the leaves are slowly making their colorful transition, scattering themselves across the earth, and painting my daily pathways.
But despite the busy-ness, September was a month of pauses... moments of meditation on love, life, and family. It was a whirlwind of changes and new beginnings, with memories that will live in my mind forever.
The beginning of the month was first cast with a dark shadow. After my Grandma Rae went to the hospital for some mysterious pains, my family was bestowed with the most saddening of news: her diagnosis was stage 4 cancer, which began in the lungs, and had spread to her liver, lymph nodes, and spleen. The doctors estimated without chemo she'd have 4-6 months; but with treatment, they could buy her another year, hopefully more. After the reality of the situation set in, the family instead focused on the positive, and making Grandma as comfortable as possible. I decided that I would make a website (in progress...) to raise money to send Gram to Italy after her treatments are over. She's never been out of the country, and has always wanted to see the Vatican. I'll keep you posted on when the site is complete...
Not long after Gram's diagnosis John and I were driving home to Rochester for my little sister Natalie's wedding. (What better time for the family to come together for both my sister and Grandma all at once?) It's one of those events that you wait for your whole life... Natalie is my only sibling, and for our entire lives we've been pretty much inseparable. As children, we were as close to best friends as sisters can be. While distance and time has pushed us into completely different directions, we still love, support, and visit each other as much as possible.
Natalie and Mike's wedding was beautiful in every possible way. I went home late Wednesday night so that I could begin Thursday at home with my family... Natalie's bridesmaids and fellow Navy girlfriends Candy and Meghan were already there, and us girls spent most of Thursday putting together the biscotti wedding favors I'd brought from the Rock Hill Bake House in Glens Falls.
Our biscotti favors.
That night, my Mom and Dad hosted a family party at our house. The whole family as well as the groom, Mike's, parents and sisters were all there. John and I had the memorable (or, forgettable) experience of losing a game of beer pong to none other than my parents... beginner's luck!
Me and Natalie with cousins Rosie, Rachel and Gramma at the Thursday Night party.
Friday was pretty relaxing, surprisingly. My sister had scheduled everything so comfortably that there was ample time for sitting on the porch with coffee and catching up with the parents - one of my favorite home activities. And Dad, of course, hi-jacked the stereo and made everyone listen to Neil Young while we were getting ready for the rehearsal dinner. The rehearsal left butterflies in my tummy... being the Matron of Honor for a Catholic ceremony meant I had to stand up on the altar with the bride and groom for half the ceremony, as well as remember a bunch of random tasks: take Natalie's bouquet, straighten her dress, move the chair, participate in communion... But all of that quickly faded as we headed to our dinner at the Village Inn, a historic restaurant in our hometown, Albion. My sister handed out her gifts for the bridal party, and I almost cried when I read the engraving on my new beautiful bracelet: "My Sister, My Friend."
Mom and Dad with a sleepy Gavin at the rehearsal dinner.
Saturday... ah, Saturday. It was such a gorgeous day - sunny, clear skies, 72 degrees - just perfect. We girls began the day by hopping in our limo at 10am and being escorted to Battisti's hair salon in Chili, where we spent the next four hours getting beautiful. Not long before we decided to go, Candy and Meghan took off in the limo to the liquor store and came back with a bottle of Patron for the ride home...
The ladies before the big day!
This was pre-Patron :)
And me, Nat, and Mom after our cute 'dos :)
Everything, thereafter, went just a smoothly as the tequila (which Candy and Lindon, Natalie's best friend from high school and also a bridesmaid, nearly polished off before we even made it to the church...).
Natalie heads nervously to her wedding ceremony...
The ceremony went off without a hitch (my butterflies for nothing) and the newlyweds and rest of the bridal party all crammed into the limo and headed to the reception at Hickory Ridge Country Club. The night is a bit of a blur, but I remember lots of hugs, delicious food, dancing to Madonna and Paula Abdul, and bringing everyone to tears with my speech :)
The newlyweds head for their reception.
We partied late into the night, and when we finally came home the tired bride and groom opened all of their cards and presents in preparation for their flight the next day... they were leaving for their Italian honeymoon at 10am the next morning!
We left shortly after I kissed Natalie and Mike goodbye... a four-hour Thruway drive between my family and home. I couldn't have possibly asked for a better time at home or a more perfect wedding day for my sister - my best friend.
See all of my wedding photos
Four days later we were heading to the airport in New Haven, CT for our next September adventure: a five-day holiday in Mexico in celebration of my in-laws upcoming 40th Anniversary! More time to celebrate family and love, more time to rest my mind and take a break from work.
Neil, John's brother, and his girlfriend, Sol-Ana, met us at the airport bright and early, and we began our 3-flight trek to Riviera Maya, just south of Cancun. We arrived at our all-inclusive resort hotel, the Ocean Maya, just after dinner time, and were greeted with frozen cocktails and the humid, salty air of the Carribbean Sea.
The beach at Ocean Maya resort, Playa del Carmen, Mexico.
For the next three days we did little more than lay on the beach, order Margaritas and Pina Coladas from the swim-up bar, indulge in fresh Mexican delicacies, cookies, and cakes, lounge around the pool, do yoga on the balcony, hang out over drinks in the lobby bar... basically, a lot of resting and indulging, which everyone deserves now and then.
Yoga on the balcony!
Highlights of the trip were on Saturday afternoon after a rainy day, us "kids" took the shuttle into the nearest town, Playa del Carmen, where we watched the sunset, shopped, saw a monkey(!), and made friends with our bartender over slushy margaritas. On our final day, I decided to splurge and get pampered with my first-ever full-body massage at the resort spa, which helped me sink into a state of complete and utter relaxation, if I wasn't already there already!
On the beach in Playa del Carmen, a policeman takes our photo.
Sol-Ana gets peed on by the monkey!
We finished our venture with a night out at the resort Japanese Steak House, were we reserved a space at the Hibachi table and surprised the Yosts with an Anniversary cake, which was presented by the resort entertainment staff. Instead of dessert, a full ensemble of dancers and singers in full Mexican dress appeared, complete with confetti, whistles, and of course, cake. It was awesome - and they were totally surprised!
Hibachi de Mexico?
The Yosts get their Anniversary surprise!
The next morning we boarded our shuttle back to the airport, another three flights between us and home. It was over pints of ale at the Cleveland airport that we heard the news of the first bailout's rejection in the senate, and just like that, reality slowly descended back upon us.
See all of my Mexico photos
Now, back at home and back into the swing of things, fall is getting crisper, the leaves are now falling, and the world is in a tailspin with an economic crisis and election buzz. But if I close my eyes, I can transport myself back to the moments of peace I found in September... with a hot cup of coffee in hand on my parent's front porch.... with my feet up in a hammock peering out at the aqua blue of ocean.
It's there that I find myself retreating as the whir of change tumbles forth...
But despite the busy-ness, September was a month of pauses... moments of meditation on love, life, and family. It was a whirlwind of changes and new beginnings, with memories that will live in my mind forever.
The beginning of the month was first cast with a dark shadow. After my Grandma Rae went to the hospital for some mysterious pains, my family was bestowed with the most saddening of news: her diagnosis was stage 4 cancer, which began in the lungs, and had spread to her liver, lymph nodes, and spleen. The doctors estimated without chemo she'd have 4-6 months; but with treatment, they could buy her another year, hopefully more. After the reality of the situation set in, the family instead focused on the positive, and making Grandma as comfortable as possible. I decided that I would make a website (in progress...) to raise money to send Gram to Italy after her treatments are over. She's never been out of the country, and has always wanted to see the Vatican. I'll keep you posted on when the site is complete...
Not long after Gram's diagnosis John and I were driving home to Rochester for my little sister Natalie's wedding. (What better time for the family to come together for both my sister and Grandma all at once?) It's one of those events that you wait for your whole life... Natalie is my only sibling, and for our entire lives we've been pretty much inseparable. As children, we were as close to best friends as sisters can be. While distance and time has pushed us into completely different directions, we still love, support, and visit each other as much as possible.
Natalie and Mike's wedding was beautiful in every possible way. I went home late Wednesday night so that I could begin Thursday at home with my family... Natalie's bridesmaids and fellow Navy girlfriends Candy and Meghan were already there, and us girls spent most of Thursday putting together the biscotti wedding favors I'd brought from the Rock Hill Bake House in Glens Falls.
Our biscotti favors.That night, my Mom and Dad hosted a family party at our house. The whole family as well as the groom, Mike's, parents and sisters were all there. John and I had the memorable (or, forgettable) experience of losing a game of beer pong to none other than my parents... beginner's luck!
Me and Natalie with cousins Rosie, Rachel and Gramma at the Thursday Night party.Friday was pretty relaxing, surprisingly. My sister had scheduled everything so comfortably that there was ample time for sitting on the porch with coffee and catching up with the parents - one of my favorite home activities. And Dad, of course, hi-jacked the stereo and made everyone listen to Neil Young while we were getting ready for the rehearsal dinner. The rehearsal left butterflies in my tummy... being the Matron of Honor for a Catholic ceremony meant I had to stand up on the altar with the bride and groom for half the ceremony, as well as remember a bunch of random tasks: take Natalie's bouquet, straighten her dress, move the chair, participate in communion... But all of that quickly faded as we headed to our dinner at the Village Inn, a historic restaurant in our hometown, Albion. My sister handed out her gifts for the bridal party, and I almost cried when I read the engraving on my new beautiful bracelet: "My Sister, My Friend."
Mom and Dad with a sleepy Gavin at the rehearsal dinner. Saturday... ah, Saturday. It was such a gorgeous day - sunny, clear skies, 72 degrees - just perfect. We girls began the day by hopping in our limo at 10am and being escorted to Battisti's hair salon in Chili, where we spent the next four hours getting beautiful. Not long before we decided to go, Candy and Meghan took off in the limo to the liquor store and came back with a bottle of Patron for the ride home...
The ladies before the big day! 
This was pre-Patron :)
And me, Nat, and Mom after our cute 'dos :)Everything, thereafter, went just a smoothly as the tequila (which Candy and Lindon, Natalie's best friend from high school and also a bridesmaid, nearly polished off before we even made it to the church...).
Natalie heads nervously to her wedding ceremony... The ceremony went off without a hitch (my butterflies for nothing) and the newlyweds and rest of the bridal party all crammed into the limo and headed to the reception at Hickory Ridge Country Club. The night is a bit of a blur, but I remember lots of hugs, delicious food, dancing to Madonna and Paula Abdul, and bringing everyone to tears with my speech :)
The newlyweds head for their reception.We partied late into the night, and when we finally came home the tired bride and groom opened all of their cards and presents in preparation for their flight the next day... they were leaving for their Italian honeymoon at 10am the next morning!
We left shortly after I kissed Natalie and Mike goodbye... a four-hour Thruway drive between my family and home. I couldn't have possibly asked for a better time at home or a more perfect wedding day for my sister - my best friend.
See all of my wedding photos
Four days later we were heading to the airport in New Haven, CT for our next September adventure: a five-day holiday in Mexico in celebration of my in-laws upcoming 40th Anniversary! More time to celebrate family and love, more time to rest my mind and take a break from work.
Neil, John's brother, and his girlfriend, Sol-Ana, met us at the airport bright and early, and we began our 3-flight trek to Riviera Maya, just south of Cancun. We arrived at our all-inclusive resort hotel, the Ocean Maya, just after dinner time, and were greeted with frozen cocktails and the humid, salty air of the Carribbean Sea.
The beach at Ocean Maya resort, Playa del Carmen, Mexico.For the next three days we did little more than lay on the beach, order Margaritas and Pina Coladas from the swim-up bar, indulge in fresh Mexican delicacies, cookies, and cakes, lounge around the pool, do yoga on the balcony, hang out over drinks in the lobby bar... basically, a lot of resting and indulging, which everyone deserves now and then.
Yoga on the balcony!Highlights of the trip were on Saturday afternoon after a rainy day, us "kids" took the shuttle into the nearest town, Playa del Carmen, where we watched the sunset, shopped, saw a monkey(!), and made friends with our bartender over slushy margaritas. On our final day, I decided to splurge and get pampered with my first-ever full-body massage at the resort spa, which helped me sink into a state of complete and utter relaxation, if I wasn't already there already!
On the beach in Playa del Carmen, a policeman takes our photo.
Sol-Ana gets peed on by the monkey!We finished our venture with a night out at the resort Japanese Steak House, were we reserved a space at the Hibachi table and surprised the Yosts with an Anniversary cake, which was presented by the resort entertainment staff. Instead of dessert, a full ensemble of dancers and singers in full Mexican dress appeared, complete with confetti, whistles, and of course, cake. It was awesome - and they were totally surprised!
Hibachi de Mexico?
The Yosts get their Anniversary surprise!The next morning we boarded our shuttle back to the airport, another three flights between us and home. It was over pints of ale at the Cleveland airport that we heard the news of the first bailout's rejection in the senate, and just like that, reality slowly descended back upon us.
See all of my Mexico photos
Now, back at home and back into the swing of things, fall is getting crisper, the leaves are now falling, and the world is in a tailspin with an economic crisis and election buzz. But if I close my eyes, I can transport myself back to the moments of peace I found in September... with a hot cup of coffee in hand on my parent's front porch.... with my feet up in a hammock peering out at the aqua blue of ocean.
It's there that I find myself retreating as the whir of change tumbles forth...
Monday, September 1, 2008
Practicing Imperfection
For as long as I can remember I've been a perfectionist. My father always reiterated to me that "if something's worth doing, it's worth doing right," words that still echo in my day-to-day life. Perhaps it was my tendency towards compulsive order and obsessive organization, but for some reason I interpreted those words as, "if something's worth doing, it's worth doing the best."
My life path so far has taught me that balance is key in all areas of life, which is why, lately, I'm trying to turn my attention towards insatiable need for control that finds me grappling in the dark, desperately searching for a perfect world that doesn't exist.
I know I'm not alone... women, I believe, by nature have a tendency towards a mental disconnect that happens between the dreaming, the planning, the expectation, and the actuality. This is the reason that some brides just about lose it from the planning of their own wedding - they want perfection and have such a white-fisted grip on the idea of control that they nearly meltdown and on the big day, their head is lost somewhere in the details. I think we all have varying degrees of this characteristic - and for some of us, perhaps it only shows its face during major events that we've spent years idealizing and dramatizing in our minds. A healthy dose of fantasy never hurt anyone, especially if it doesn't interfere with your enjoyment of the real thing.
My problem? I tend to want to control even the little stupid things that don't matter. For example: the order of the cups from tall to small in the cupboard. The amount of books in my to-read stack. The exact schedule and list of events that will occur on my day off. The number of years until I finally have my life figured out... You get the idea. The point is, the cups in the cupboard always be in a different order, my to-read stack will continue to grow, my day-off will never be as productive as I imagine it, and no one ever really has life figured out.
I was reading recently in my Yoga Journal magazine about the concept of transience. Part of yoga philosophy embraces the recognition that all things will, and are, changing, evolving, even falling apart - and into something else. It is the very nature of the planet that all things grow and die, then grow into something else, then die again, and so on. Nothing ever stays exactly the same. In the article, a man who was going through a particularly difficult moment in his life witnessed a group of monks spend 5 days patiently, diligently, from morning to night, carefully construct a colored-sand mosaic. He watched them meticulously, while hunched over but never complaining, sort the tiny granuals into a beautiful peice of art that - once finished - would be blown away, each grain of sand becoming something else. Similarly, John and I watched a documentary about the artist Andy Goldsworthy - a Scottish sculptor who works only with natural materials, and creates amazing work that by nature, is impermanent. His work included forming ice scuptures from melting icicles, strings of leaves flowing down a stream, or intricate piles of collected branches that would eventually wash - in a cylindrical demise - away to sea.
Both the monks' and Goldsworthy's art is about appreciating the process, allowing that process to evolve into something unanticipated, and celebrating the impermanance and imperfection of life.
To expect myself to snap out of it and magically stop trying to control every moment of my life would be taking a step backwards - it would be trying to control my need for control. Like all work on the self, it takes time, patience, and continual reassessment.
For the moment, I'm working on trying to trust myself and my path, recognizing and appreciating each thread of life without having to know where it's weaving me or without seeing the greater context of the whole tapestry. Instead, just enjoying each colorful place I come to and trying to remember that "this too, shall pass..." and that is what makes it so beautiful.
My life path so far has taught me that balance is key in all areas of life, which is why, lately, I'm trying to turn my attention towards insatiable need for control that finds me grappling in the dark, desperately searching for a perfect world that doesn't exist.
I know I'm not alone... women, I believe, by nature have a tendency towards a mental disconnect that happens between the dreaming, the planning, the expectation, and the actuality. This is the reason that some brides just about lose it from the planning of their own wedding - they want perfection and have such a white-fisted grip on the idea of control that they nearly meltdown and on the big day, their head is lost somewhere in the details. I think we all have varying degrees of this characteristic - and for some of us, perhaps it only shows its face during major events that we've spent years idealizing and dramatizing in our minds. A healthy dose of fantasy never hurt anyone, especially if it doesn't interfere with your enjoyment of the real thing.
My problem? I tend to want to control even the little stupid things that don't matter. For example: the order of the cups from tall to small in the cupboard. The amount of books in my to-read stack. The exact schedule and list of events that will occur on my day off. The number of years until I finally have my life figured out... You get the idea. The point is, the cups in the cupboard always be in a different order, my to-read stack will continue to grow, my day-off will never be as productive as I imagine it, and no one ever really has life figured out.
I was reading recently in my Yoga Journal magazine about the concept of transience. Part of yoga philosophy embraces the recognition that all things will, and are, changing, evolving, even falling apart - and into something else. It is the very nature of the planet that all things grow and die, then grow into something else, then die again, and so on. Nothing ever stays exactly the same. In the article, a man who was going through a particularly difficult moment in his life witnessed a group of monks spend 5 days patiently, diligently, from morning to night, carefully construct a colored-sand mosaic. He watched them meticulously, while hunched over but never complaining, sort the tiny granuals into a beautiful peice of art that - once finished - would be blown away, each grain of sand becoming something else. Similarly, John and I watched a documentary about the artist Andy Goldsworthy - a Scottish sculptor who works only with natural materials, and creates amazing work that by nature, is impermanent. His work included forming ice scuptures from melting icicles, strings of leaves flowing down a stream, or intricate piles of collected branches that would eventually wash - in a cylindrical demise - away to sea.
Both the monks' and Goldsworthy's art is about appreciating the process, allowing that process to evolve into something unanticipated, and celebrating the impermanance and imperfection of life.
To expect myself to snap out of it and magically stop trying to control every moment of my life would be taking a step backwards - it would be trying to control my need for control. Like all work on the self, it takes time, patience, and continual reassessment.
For the moment, I'm working on trying to trust myself and my path, recognizing and appreciating each thread of life without having to know where it's weaving me or without seeing the greater context of the whole tapestry. Instead, just enjoying each colorful place I come to and trying to remember that "this too, shall pass..." and that is what makes it so beautiful.
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