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!

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.

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...

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.

Summer, my oasis

I'm surfacing just for this quiet moment, in the space between finishing chores and getting some sleep, to report from the eye of the storm. Here it is, nearly mid-August, and I'm up to my neck in summer... the whirlwind of parties, weddings, film shoots, birthdays, late nights at the computer, concerts, sweaty yoga, and life... in all of its beautiful, sunny glory.

I am a summer baby, a Leo if you believe in astrology, and when the sun shines, so do I. How I love the heat, the green, the grassy smells, the cool lakes, the chirpy nights, the hum of a fan, the flip-flops... even the skeeters are fine by me. I find myself drunk on my love of summer, peachy and positive on days when I should be downright miserable.

I want to keep this brief, as another perfectly comfortable night's sleep is calling me from the other room. But I couldn't bear to be absent for another month without at least attempting to recap all of the blissful moments I've been fortunate to live this past month:

• weekend of entertaining for good friends, cooking and crewing on the production of The Brave and the Kind
• buying a bikini for the first time in my life, and christening it in the great Lake Ontario on the 4th of July at Hamlin Beach
• hot-tubbing and scoring pitchers of Red Bull with Mark and Courtney in Rochester
• catching up with RIT professors at Jack Beck's wedding
• having an impromptu living-room dance party after shooting, one that involved me and Meghan and Holland piled on a wheelchair (and yes, we have it on video)
• taking care of Sarah and Bryan's kitties for much of July while they had urgent family issues (thankfully, her Dad is recovering...)
• watching The Dark Knight with Tom and Zhenelle, and joining them for delicious faux-sloppy joes at their camp in Warrensburg
• watching Lewis Black at the Palace Theatre with the Yosts
• making a website for my nephew, Gavin's first birthday
• spending a week in the 1000 Islands, doing yoga on the grass, cooking for everyone, swimming in the lake, and staying up all hours of the night drinking ice cold beers under the stars (and squashing swarms of mystery bugs) with the Brave and the Kind crew - and Susie, of course! I'm so glad she came!
• getting spoiled on my birthday... presents from Mom and Natalie, and a surprise birthday haircut from the always-amazing friend Trina
• taking a life-altering two-day fling to Montreal with my honey, where we saw Radiohead and figured out our lives
• salsa-dancing the night away at Ben y Tamara's fabulous wedding in Rochester

The Brave and the Kind cast and crew in the Thousand Islands, NY

I am blessed. I am truly, utterly, wholly blessed. Throughout all of these wonderful experiences, and each and every day in between, I've been deepening my yoga practice and practicing the art of presence: breathing, pausing, and acknowledging each moment as it exists. Summer is not quite over, but I feel that I've lived this one as fully as one could, joyfully drinking up each second and allowing it to wash over me, feeling all of it absorb into my well of memory.

Lucky, I am, but ungrateful I am not. I will remember this summer always, and this spirit of gratitude and awareness will not slip away as the summer eventually will.

An Event Apart, Boston - Or, fate finds me

Last Sunday, Johnny took me down to the Albany train station in the early afternoon for my evening commute to downtown Boston. This trip somehow get wedged into my brain back in January, and wouldn't let go. I was browsing online, like I always do, reading about Web standards and code, when I discovered a conference called An Event Apart. Founded by two of the most innovative minds in the Web industry, and dedicated to supporting the Web standards movement, the conference seemed like the place I needed to be. For some reason, I felt cosmically drawn to it. I had to go. I needed to go. I would find a way to go.

Never before in my life has any path seemed paved so clearly. From the moment I decided I needed to go, I found support, encouragement, a means, and a motivation. I even found the money. As I shivered in the over-air-conditioned train car, my shoulders aching from carrying four bags and stomach churning from the over-salted bag of almonds for dinner, I wondered what on earth I was doing. I arrived peacefully and too easily at my modest hotel, and tossed and turned all night with cold sweats. I was alone, with little confidence in my ability to fit in with this elusive group.

But from the moment I walked into the Boston Marriott Copley on Monday morning, everything fell into place and all fears were quelled.

From the kind woman that let me register early when I was the first person at registration, giddy with excitement, to the gregarious Frenchman who wouldn't have me sit by myself at breakfast, I was immediately both welcomed and comfortable. It was a slow unraveling, a realization that this great machine of which I'd been one small cog, was churning and moving about me, and I was not just some outsider, oohing and ahhing through the window, but I was really a part of it - I was understood, and I could understand - and I felt both ecstatic and relieved, like an adopted daughter finally meeting her real Mom and she's perfectly amazing.

I don't mind being sappy here, as I've been living in a Web Design bubble for years now, picking up shreds of knowledge here and there, bumbling around in different directions, always uncertain of what I was doing or where I fit in. The Web Standards community is a smart, quiet, humble group with a passion for creating great work that is motivated by a drive to do things well, to push the industry, and in effect, to change the world. They are the guys in the corner, the ones that aren't so quick to take the credit or make a quick buck, but instead spend every waking moment validating their code, making sure their work is accessible by everyone, from any device.

Everyone that I met was talented and excited; from Kelley, who handed out her own hand-made business cards, to Trace, who asked tons of questions and was a great listener, to Peter from Montreal who didn't get too upset when I spilled most of my cabernet on his white shirt, to Yoann, who said, when I asked him how I could work in France, "Give me your resume," and Matt, who was my all-day conference buddy, and was such a nice guy he managed to get the wait staff at the Monday night party to bring all the vegetarian hors d'œuvres right to my side. All of these people were so real and kind, and I felt home with them, like someone had revealed to me that I was actually an alien, then returned me to my home planet where suddenly everything made sense.

The presentations and speakers, too, were phenomenal. I had been nervous about whether I'd be able to keep up, whether the topics would be over my head. But I was surprised at how much I've brought myself up to speed these past six months; I found every discussion relevant, useful, and inspiring, and I actually followed along with every speaker - even on day two, with five hours of sleep and a presentation about Javascript by the Dutch, heavily-accented, Peter-Paul Koch.

But the real icing on the cake for me came at the very end, when six lucky attendees would be randomly drawn to win a website critique by none other than Jeffrey Zeldman, co-founder of the conference and A List Apart, co-founder of the Web Standards Project, founder of Happy Cog, and pretty much accepted as The Man when it comes to Web Design. I had submitted my proudest design, Shop5, and sat there in nervous anticipation, wondering what on Earth I would say if I actually was called up on stage... And then, before I could wonder any longer, I actually was called, and actually was, quite nervously, walking up to the stage! It's all a bit of a blur, but the highlights were this: despite some discussion about clarifying the site's message and getting the client to trust me, his comments were mostly complimentary - the logo was "punchy" and unique, and the design illustrated an "expertise."

I have to admit, after the word "expertise," I zoned out a little bit. Having shown up to the conference alone, with no idea what I was getting myself into and zero confidence in my capabilities, I left walking on air... having found a community that I naturally belonged to, good people to share that discovery with, and a firm "you're on the right track, kid" from the industry's master. I couldn't have possibly asked for any more.

Every thing about my trip felt strangely perfect, like a well-written book. I've been practicing, as part of yoga, a presence in the moment and a trust in fate - in other words, learning how to go with the flow, let go, breathe, and enjoy life as it happens. I arrived in Boston because of an intuition that I needed to go, and I spent every moment savoring it, and trusting that I needed to be there. Now, back home, I feel like a new person; like suddenly, up ahead down the path I've been walking, I can see a clearing and a burst of bright light. I've found confidence that I've never felt before, certainty about my career that I've never experienced, and a renewed drive to create amazing work.

Thank you, life.

Growing, not dying

A friend told me recently, "A business that isn't growing is dying." This friend just happened to be a Business graduate, and those words have been knocking around in my brain not because I'm interested in business theory, but because I think that statement can also be applied to life, or more specifically, to my life.

If I'm not growing, I'm dying.

I'm not trying to be morbid or overly dramatic; actually, this realization is quite assuring and hopeful to me. In fact, it explains a lot: why I become restless and depressed when my life isn't building towards something, or why I feel hopeless and anxious when I am unclear on a direction to take.

But all of this realizing shines a light on another bigger accomplishment that I am proud enough to write about. I think I have finally squashed my biggest roadblock: myself.

I am my father's daughter, that is for sure. And my Dad, god love 'im, is his own worst enemy. He could talk himself out of taking a shit for fear he'd have to wipe. That may sound harsh, but Dad tends to decide he can't do something before he's even tried. And unfortunately, he carries with him a healthy heaping of guilt. I am just like Dad, and up until this year I've truly been my own obstacle, always down on myself, always full of excuses.

I don't know what happened, really. Maybe I'm getting older, and realized HEY! I'm nearing thirty. Or maybe my husband's constant encouragement finally seeped into my brain. I'm honestly not sure what it was, but somehow I think it's connected to the idea of growing vs. dying.

To look honestly at your own life, realize that you want more, and understand that you are the only person with the power to change that reality is an extraordinary, if simple, revelation. And to actually persist in doing so delivers unending rewards.

Last January, I decided that I was going to make some serious changes in my personal life. It had nothing to do with anyone, but with my relationship with myself. I realized I needed to stop fighting myself, stop blocking myself from success. I needed to be my own friend, to realize my own potential, and to find satisfaction in improving my mental and physical being. Somehow, understanding that was the key to execution; I've been practicing patience, diligence, and presence, and I have poured my heart into yoga, food, and my work, which has become the holy trinity upon which I find meaning. In short, a deep connection to my mind, spirit, and body has been nourished, and I'm feeling stronger as a whole than ever before.

I believe that we all have our own paths that lead us to that feeling. And I also believe those paths will veer, and split, and not always remain unobstructed or easily identifiable. We may all have our own paths to pursue, but the desire to continue striding down each of our own, putting one foot in front of the other, is a universal calling. Growing, evolving, and improving our human condition is the drive of the soul, I believe, and once we stop moving - stop trudging ahead - we die. Either figuratively or literally.

Part of that growth, for me, is the understanding that this is it - this is my life. I can sit back and complain and talk myself out of everything I've ever wanted, or I can suck it up and get to work. So that's what I've been doing. And let me tell you, I haven't felt this clear ever before. And the funny thing is, I have no idea where I'm headed. I just know - without any hesitation - that I'm walking in the right direction.