The Indestructibleness of Destructiveness

You are checking fb, who has done something epic in the last 3 seconds? Checking emails. Looking at videos on youtube. Online shopping, or online window shopping at least. Reading up on obscure topics on wiki so you will be prepared for the next deep discussion your get into. Watching series of shows online, just because you can. Perhaps reading fml to make you feel a little better about the random freak accidents of your life. Or blogging, like me. All typical frequent occurrences in the massive cycle of self-destructiveness.

Its clear what to do when the issue lies without you. When its illness,circumstance, out of your hands or perhaps another human creating the distraction or problem. But what do you do when the biggest problem is yourself? Its so much harder to resolve. When you know you have so many things to do that you are spontaneously obtaining stress-induced coronary heart disease and yet you waste time. You are too stressed to be productive. Or your lack of focus due to plausible ADD has kicked in. You feel like you cant help it. Like you are a robot and your controls are being used by some other being. You cant seem to shake these feelings and because of that you are wasting even more time. You may decide an early night is the solution, tomorrow will be better. But your lack of productivity is likely to haunt your dreams. You will only wake up more exhausted and stressed. Leading back into the massive cycle of feeling like you are failing at your own life and the only one to blame is yourself.

So whats the solution? How do you defeat self-destructiveness when clearly destructiveness is built to be indestructible? Is it even possible? I dont know. I am sure it must be. I just havent had the good fortune of running into such as of lately. I think the only option is to just take a stand. Clear your head, meditate or run or something so you can at least start in a good headspace. Then, force yourself into a place or zone that will make you get it done. And just nail it out. Thats the best option. Or at least get on top of it. Then it wont be that black cloud hanging over your head everywhere you go.

The only way to defeat the indestructibleness of destructiveness is to overpower it with the self-determination to be a better person. To make now better than yesterday, or the hours preceding it. It requires a mental decision and the will power to back it up. Make a goal, nothing hefty and impossible, just something little. So you can achieve it and get enough of a boost to go for the next step. So I guess I should stop blogging and get on it, set that little goal and start banging out my massive amounts of study. One hour til work, I can achieve something in that time.

Prepare to be destroyed my inner excessively self-destructive self.

The Elephant in the Room vs The Gecko in Your Pants

There is often a so called elephant in the room. This is an expression used to represent the topics that we sidestep,the major issues that we refuse to deal with. Superbly depicted by Banksy.

And yet we continually accept these elephants, so much so that we arrange them in our lives. We make them feel welcome and at home. Instead of dealing with the obvious truth, or addressing issues or taking risks we do everything in our power to normalize them so we wont have to deal with them.

Now picture this. You think there is a gecko in your pants. Are you going to welcome it and make it feel at home and let it fit in? No. Trust me. If you think there is a gecko in your pants you will take action immediately! You will do everything in your power to rectify the situation nearly instantaneously.

It's time to stop letting the elephants be part of the room and think of them more like geckos. In our avoidance of issues we are projecting them, making them appear much bigger and more daunting then they likely are. If we take note of them and then break them down to gecko size we will be able to just deal with them. Instead of welcoming them in, letting them take up a massive portion of the room and be an awkward spectacle everyone avoids mentioning; we are just letting them grow and grow. Dealing with these elephants appropriately upon arrival really just saves everyone a lot of hassle. So the next time an elephant happens to knock on the door perhaps you should think of how you would feel if a gecko was in your pants.

Blah Blah Blah..

I'm a dirty tramp. If you are now questioning my relationship history or perhaps lack of definition involving it and are now deeply wondering if "dirty tramp" is a good descriptor of me, well you can stop. Quoted and frequently repeated. Although I temporarily was having my mind blocking this literary catch phrase as I had not remembered it until it was refreshed for me today.

Organic Chemistry was the bain of my existence. It was the class I achieved the lowest grades in and yet it was the one I tried the hardest it. I did everything imaginable to learn that material and for some reason I would find myself feeling like each exam was a game of jenga, just hoping to pull out the right thing and not fail. However, as much as I want to say I hated that class with a deep and firey passion I cannot. As I look back into my eyesockets and let the wheels and cogs of my brain work to pictures of past experiences I laugh. Ochem was full of spiderman fruit snacks, pokemon, catch phrases and epic people. I struggled immensely with the material but I learned to really work hard for something that I didnt enjoy in any sense. And along that road, which was clearly straight uphill with boulders being thrown at my face, I met incredible people. Perhaps it is true, those roads less traveled, the hard ones, and the ones we dont really want to embark on, often are the ones that we look back on and are grateful for. Or maybe you read this and all you thought was blah blah blah..



I'm a dirty tramp.

Little Purple Pansies

I grew up to this song and think of it more often than seems fitting. Especially since I was sure it was a song about panties, no wonder I questioned why we sang it in church. Nonetheless, I grew up and learned the words and its just kinda stuck.

I dont often think of it for the flowers though, only when I am back home and see the soil my mothers hands have so tenderly worked with and the little green stems with petals of yellow gold and purple does it come across my mind. More often, it tramps across my thought processes when an occasion happens and someone doesnt man up. Pansy is my go to term then. Humans are so weak by nature. Look at the little pansies that fight to break through the dark soil, and then are forced to fight against small children that have urges to pluck them, and winds that breathe mighty air on them, and rain that must feel like ocean size drops of liquid bombs being dropped on their heads. And somehow, they manage to persevere and brighten the garden. And here we are as humans, so weak and fearful. We shy away from the truth, from taking a stand. We need to take more risks, be more blunt, venture far outside of the zone that is labelled "comfort" in girly little pink letters.

Why cant we just say what we think? Sometimes I grant that it is not appropriate, but generally we tip toe around subjects, issues and people because we are scared. Scared of what they might think, or how we might be perceived or how it may change things. Stop and think about it. Thats all just a little excessive and ridiculous and unnecessary. I am all for a little more honesty, a little more risk taking and lot more living.

I would much rather be a pansy that looks a little weather worn but is seen than one that is too scared to ever try and break through the soil. People should man up a little more often.

Ceiling to Floor

I walked in with purpose. A very specific one at that. Papermate medium point blue writing utensil, preferrably click top. Ceiling to floor, top to bottom, one whole wall of ink filled writing utensils. I carefully glanced into each box. My eyes would study the ink filled object and move on. One after another I was disappointed. I saw my second favourite, gel filled black ink fine point and some brand I cannot even remember as I only know it by appearance, but that is not what I was looking for so the scanning continued. I got to the end only to feel a hole of emptiness growing within. They didnt have the correct one. I thought about getting my second favourite. My ink filled writing utensil supply was very low as I had one commit suicide in my hand last week and another two run out of their ink. I was left to one crappy one and a felt tip one that I had been settling on. I turned on my heels, collected my peers and walked out. They were confused. You see, I was not ready to settle. Why go in looking for what you know works perfect and doesnt disappoint you and just settle for something second rate and that will always remind you of how it isnt what you want. Not worth it. I will wait til I find the papermate medium point blue ink filled writing utensil or until my drawer leaves me with zero options.

Morgan M. Morgansen

I am partially in love with Joseph Gordon-Levitt. I cant help it. His handsomeness and creativity suck me in. Morgan M Morgansen is just another example of this fatal attraction. The wording just makes me feel complete inside. Its as if someone took all the words I would think and used much better syntax and created the most beautiful short. Thats how I feel. It has reinspired me to actually write whatever I think. I dont write to impress anyone so why not go all out instead of just halfway out there.

I was thinking of this short as the gloom was spreading over the universe this evening. Even the sky knew it was Monday. Monday doesnt have to be a gloomy day but it just seems no matter how hard you try you will be outgloomed. So there I was, outgloomed. With the most ridiculous school schedule scheduled for us we suffer a four hour break and then are faced with another four hours straight of lectures. This may not appear to be deathly but when the day begins with an hour of droning monotone robotic chatter amidst silence as no one answers the questions being questioned it does not bode well. You then try and breathe life into the day during your break, generally you are useless. Then its to two hours. Two hours shared with little ones. They are like furbies, small and you could pat their heads but they tend to chatter mindlessly. So much so you wish you could throw them across the room or lock them in a closet. You try and drown out their existence only to have it replaced by the million words a minute explanations of each slide. You cant think fast enough for your brain to even start the process of processing the words. So the inevitable happens, your system crashes. This is not all. You then are blessed with the worst two hours of the week. Scheduled from 4-6 pm. This is not an ideal time for learning, nor is it ideal for the driest lectures imaginable. To make it feel a little more like someone is stabbing your repeatedly for the two hours we will add a professor that when he speaks fast the words are no longer english. And if they are his thick accent makes them unintelligable, which is as useless as them being in another language not known to mankind. The clock starts moving backwards to taunt you. When finally it is over you find yourself a little dead. You drag yourself out of the building only to see the sky laughing at you with its gloominess. And that is why Mondays will outgloom you even when you try and ungloom them.Time to close your snowglobes and wait for the day after Monday.

Nobody Likes To, But I Really Like to Cry

It was like a broken leaky faucet. And not at a convenient time. Nearly three straight hours around several people I know and I was that one with a tear streaked face. I couldnt stop it though. I tried so hard. I thought I had taken a deep breath and it was contained. Then I ran into someone in the hall, we are friends so I said hello. Next thing I know I was bawling in your arms. Hopefully you learned your lesson, dont say hello to someone in the hall. That is basically how it went continuously. And yet I still can feel the salty drops walled up behind my blue spheres. Apparently there is more. I feel like I could vomit. Thats why people shouldnt cry, it ruins your makeup and makes your stomach hurt and gives you post crying migraines. No upside to those three things.

Today was not really that good of a day. At least the Flames beat the Oilers.

The Third L Word

Scott Pilgrim. Now that you should be thinking of the same word as me we are ready to move on. If you are sitting here thinking that this post clearly makes no sense, well then our movie tastes are likely just different so you can either abandon ship now, or just be stuck with the extra effort of piecing together where this is going.

I used to think it would be like a fairytale. Like everyone met that special someone in some way that could be made to sound grand, and that it would progress in that perfect fashion. Then I grew up. I realized it was something nearly possible to obtain. Then I didnt allow myself to really partake in believing in it because it made me vulnerable. Then I gave it another shot. Next thing I knew I sorta believed in it, but not whole heartedly. Then the universe changed and I hated it. I hated how much pain it could cause when you placed any portion of your heart in someone elses hands. I started researching the subject like Charlyne Yee did in Paper Heart. I asked tons of people how it happened for them. How they knew. How it could possibly be real. None of it made sense. It did, but then again it just didnt seem to be a concept I could grasp. Which seems ridiculous since I had been in that word before.

Then one day I knew. It wasnt like I got stuck by lightening, that would have been too poetic and dramatic. I was just in a museum, alone. All that could be heard was the soft placement of each step as I tried to be as invisible as possible as I took in the beauty. It was like the world didnt exist outside of me and whatever I was looking at. I was looking at something nonspecific, but it was like I just knew that perfect moment wasnt perfect. It would have been perfect if I wasnt alone. There was someone I wanted to be sharing that perfection with. And then I realized. Somewhere along that gravel path in the darkness I had completely let my guard down. I had exposed who I was entirely to someone else and I didnt want to have a future without them. I felt like I was ready to do whatever it took to give it a shot. And thats when I knew it was the third L word. Because it definitely wasnt the first or the second one.

And it isnt like a fairytale. It is like one of those shows where you are screaming at the television because nothing is playing out like how you want it to and you are so frustrated at the actors and where the storyline is going and it just makes you mental. Thats what it feels like. It feels impossible, and lonely, and hard and it sucks. But sometimes all I can do is smile. So I dont think the third L word is anything like how people say it is. It has to be so different for everyone. My life isnt a movie or a fairytale or a book of any sort. My feelings arent following a flow chart of logicality, in fact they are going the opposite direction. This feels impossible in every single way, but I dont think either of us has been able to completely put the notion of the whole thing away. I tried to bury it. I really did. But it just kept appearing in the oddest places. So I think this is real. I think one day I might even say that word to you.

A New Dr Seuss

It was well into the wee hours of the morning. I had just finished being read a second Dr Seuss story. Something which seems atypical of a 22 year old who has lived away from home for nearly 5 years. But there I was, on the phone with my mother listening to good night stories. Here is about how the conversation went.

Mum-"Maybe you should start rhyming til you fall asleep. The world needs a new Dr Seuss since he has passed away."
Me-"Does the world need a new Jesus because he passed away? No. So there cant be a new Dr Seuss, Mum."
Mum-"You are funny even when you are sick and tired."

You cant fill the shoes of legacies or people that completely changed the world. You can only hope and strive to become someone that is a legacy or someone that people miss and strive to be like when you are gone. You cant be someone else, you can only hope to be the best version of you.

I wish I met Dr Seuss.

Two Apples, One Tree

We are very different. At your age I couldnt care less about my hair and makeup. Dressing for school soon became yoga pants. I was generally quiet and studious. High School was such a drag and the first chance I had I was out of there. You carefully get ready each morning, looking beautiful each day. You are a star on several sports teams and you flourish with the attention. You own your grade and you know it. How could we be related?

And then there are moments that remind me that we clearly are from the same tree. I sent you a message. It was after midnight for me, 8am for you. I couldnt sleep and I was discouraged to say the least. You promptly replied you were on your way home and would call. The second you got in the door you ignored the words from Mum and picked up the phone before your coat was even off. You then went and found your Dr Seuss book and read to me. You sent your love and blessings of sweet dreams. You left the book by the phone when you went to school and told me to call back if I still couldnt sleep and someone would read to me. Two hours later I was hearing another story from your book. Thank you.

Eight years younger and literally on the other side of the world and you still take care of me. I hope that you realize how precious you are, I do. I cant wait to freaking see your face this summer! I love you Shmoopy.

When the Sum of the Parts Doesnt Equal Sleep

I am so drowsy my body aches and is pleading for sleep. Plus, I took two melatonin to help me sleep. Plus I took two painkillers that specify making you drowsy. Plus I have been trying to sleep for 2 hours. Equals, not me being asleep. Being under the weather sucks.


My mind is racing, and going from one extremely random thought to another. I cant stop it. I just want to escape my mind. I just want to sleep. So instead of wasting another two hours of precious sleep time I got up and figured the only option was to write. Perhaps if I spill all my thoughts out then my mind will finally let go.

I keep thinking about relationships. I think of my best friend and her poor broken heart, and how I wish I was there to give her all the chocolate and lollies she could imagine and to sit on swings and just vent and watch scary movies that we will hate. I wish texting wasnt all I could offer sometimes.

I keep thinking about the first time I fell in love. And how everytime I saw him, or talked to him, or we held hands or anything I just had crazy butterflies. I remember how nervous I would always get but at the same time I could always be myself. And it reminds me of what love really is like. And how its been a really really long time since I have felt that way. But not so long that i forget it. Just long enough to make me remember all the reasons why love is awesome and why anything less than that just isnt exactly as awesome.

Then I find myself thinking of how I just wish someone was here to put me to sleep. To tuck me in or cuddle with me until I find sleep. And its reminds me of the crack babies we fostered. And how they would be so uncomfortable and we would have to wrap them so tightly in their blankets and then hold them close to help them find comfort. And as I think of all of those precious babies that touched my life I remember the first little baby that joined our family. And how at fourteen I learned to love someone that wasnt related to me. And I learned what it feels like to have that love taken from you. To be utterly heartbroken and not be able to change it. I remember the day she was taken and the exact events of that night.

And as one thought leads to another and then another I cant stop it. I cant stop my mind long enough for my body to find rest. But it has to. Because I decided tomorrow I was going to feel better and be back to life. Perhaps thats not my decision. How inconvenient.

The Last Jihad

I read that series of books the other year and wow. They were page after page depicting possibilites of how the world would come to its great demise. And yet they were compelling. These fictional works matched so closely with real life events that I couldnt help but contemplate it all deeper. Then I got focused on life and some of those words fled my mind and were replaced with trivial matters.

And then there was a flood, and a cyclone, and then an earthquake in NZ and then one in Japan. And it started coming back. I really do feel like these are just further signs of the coming demise of the world. I would be lying if I said I wasnt scared. I am terrified. The first time I ever thought of the world ending was 9/11. I remember coming home from school that day and talking to my mum, she was saving all of the articles from the paper and she told me that the world would never be the same after that. I was confused as most 13 year olds would be and suddenly became terrified of further terrorist attacks. I didnt realize that I lived in a rather safe place that would not likely be attacked anytime soon. As the years passed I noticed major changes in the world and the increase in war and destruction. As the natural disasters started appearing everywhere I took it as another sign.

Time slowed enough for me to stop and actually process things. Then I think I started to piece it together. Being religious I had studied about events of the last days and I could see that more and more was happening in the world as signs of the last days. But that wasnt the part that scared me. The only thing I was really worried about was if I would have enough time to raise a family, and what it would be like for my children in the world. I guess I saw for a moment what matters most to me. Its not about what grades I get at uni, or about where I work, or what country I live in. Its about families. I used to know that. I used to place the family on a pedestal but then one day I watched that pedestal shatter and instead of rebuilding it I let its shattered remains cut me. So even though the thoughts of the world ending and the last days being here scare me, in a way, I can find comfort. I am comforted because I dont think its happening tomorrow, or next week or even in a few years. I just know its coming. Comfort in realizing that deep down I still believe in love and families. There is always hope, even if its just a shard. Sometimes you just have to look really hard to find that shard. I found mine.

When the Outside Becomes a True Reflection

Beauty is skin deep. Dont judge a book by its cover. True beauty lies within. At least those are the things people say to you. But what happens when your outside reflects your inside?

I think I have done a pretty stellar job at appearing strong, driven and social. Although none of those things reflect me at all. Inside I feel small, scared, insecure and shy. But there is always something that can bring you to your knees and for a few moments the outside and the inside meet up and are on the exact same page. I have spent two days in bed. I get up and feel weak as I walk the few steps towards the kitchen to make another cup of tea. I look in the mirror and see emptiness as I feel drained. It feels like nothing can touch the pains and aches. For a moment I recognize that what I see is exactly how I feel. Its all of those suppressed feelings coming out in the form of physical illness. Is this a sign that I need to heal mentally and emotionally for my body to be able to heal physically? I am sure there is a correlation. I just dont even know where to begin.

Regardless, I will take on tomorrow with a brave face and insides full of painkillers and decongestants in order to mask the outward appearance of weakness. What you see is not often what you get. But how often do we take the time to really look deeper within someone and find out what is going on? And when you know something is wrong do you make your presence known enough that they will trust you will hidden secrets from their soul?

I am determined to be that someone for you, you were that person for me, and you are like me, you wont just open up. But I am not going anywhere, I hope you realize that.

The Great Disconnect

Amidst each Yoga class I teach I remind the participants to listen to their breath and let it guide them, and to listen to their body. This is about you and your personal practice, it is not about someone else or about competition. It is about connecting your mind to your body. Finding that balance within.

In general there is a huge disconnect. Most people listen to either their mind or their body in each situation. You may recognize both and see which direction they each push you but we commonly just follow one. When we connect these two we find ourselves in a better space, one where we are making clearer and more concise decisions. This connect is something I have studied and I strongly believe in finding that balance in our lives. But I cant always do it.

So here I am still in bed. Today was supposed to be my epic beach day, a day I was stoked for. But my body won even though my mind had another idea entirely. My ears are aching, my head throbs, my body aches and I feel weak. The pressure under my cheek bones and eyes is suffocating and I am exhausted. Apparently since I had chosen to ignore the messages my body was sending it decided to send a bigger message, one I couldnt miss. It was like a slap in the face saying "hello, since you neglected to slow down or boost your immune system you now will suffer." Thank you for the memo.

As I listen to the rain I find myself thinking. And I think of the hypocrite within. I emphasize the importance of this connection within ourselves and I totally missed the boat. I got so caught up in not drowning in my life and all of the little things I missed the big picture of my health. I could have told you a week ago I was feeling exhausted and run down, I could have told you several days ago I wasnt feeling awesome and kept getting headaches. I could have told you 36 hours ago that I was achey and exhausted and my ears hurt. But instead I told my body to get over it because I had things to do. My bad. So i am re-evaluating and trying to just go with the sick day and get back to life tomorrow. I am being much more aware of my body though and listening to all of its moanings, whether subtle or not. And my mind is still rocking it. Perhaps after another day I will be back in balance. That would be nice.

Inheritance of a Carousel

I wish I had a Carousel. It would be my thinking place. I would have it in a meadow next to a climbing tree. Or an epic rock formation meant for climbing. There would be a stream nearby. And it would be the most perfect place. Although, just a carousel would also be splendid.

I suppose when you go to amusement parks most people dont think of a carousel as being the ride they want to go on most. But thats always what I think. There is just something so elegant about them. The music, the horses, the intricate details, the mirrors along the centre. I feel so at peace and alive when I am on a carousel. And I just realized I inherited that. I used to think it was just one of those quirky things that developed. But then I got a card in the mail, the front was a gorgeous photo of a carousel. I was psyched. Then I opened it and read words depicting carousels being riden back to my great grandparents. And it hit, it was like a special family thing in some way. I was touched. I nearly forgot about the carousel horse we saw at the garden because the carousel wasnt done, and you knew I was elated just for that.

Its like looking at that carousel card ties me to people long passed or people far away. I feel like I can close my eyes and picture being on a carousel and you can do the same, and then its like we are both riding it in a place that is much calmer and safer and more perfect than reality.

I still very much so want a carousel. But perhaps I can settle for a thinking place where I can look at my carousel card. Because its not entirely the carousel I desire, its the feeling it brings that I want. That pure joy and excitement I get when I see one. The little butterflies I get with apprehension as I get to choose my horse. There is something precious about the childlike joy that some things bring. This is one of those things for me.

The Ocean of Mediocrity

Do you ever realize how completely mediocre you are? Everyone is unique and special, lets not be cliche about it. You arent the exception to the rule. Perhaps you think you are though. But really, in so many ways we are all so mediocre. And the worst part is we become comfortable and complacent in our mediocrity. However, when you realize how mediocre you are you want to change, you may even feel your face getting flushed or your body being overcome with anxiousness as you try and force yourself to fight it. You search for one thing that makes you stand out, one thing that tells you that you are not just average. And you likely find it. We all have things that make us stand out or that people associate with us because they form us and are a recognizing marker in our existence. But that doesnt mean we live above mediocrity. We spend most of our time getting by. Doing the minimum, spreading ourselves too thing, giving up on things that we feel inadequate at or that we just cant seem to get. We rarely force ourselves to stick with something hard in order to achieve something great.

I fit in this ocean. Sometimes I drown in it. Sometimes I rise above it like a lighthouse when I let my differences shine. But mostly I am another drop of averageness. I have desires to do such fantastic epic things. I want to see the world and run a marathon and pour my soul into yoga and to be a driven physio and to change lives and to make a difference. But then I get sucked into such useless things that are lovely in their own way, they just dont get me further along a path that rises above mediocrity. I feel my flushed cheeks and realize I want to change, I really do. I just want to excel at a few things instead of averaging at everything. Something has to change and maybe this time it will stick. Maybe it wont, but its worth a shot. I am not aiming to be above the average in every way so that everyone bows down and praises me and kisses my feet. That would be quite the scene, but no, I just want to be able to come home at the end of the day and smile to myself thinking how I really nailed the day. I just want to get out of the mediocrity that my mind has placed me in as I notice my stunted progress in so many ways. Its all a mental game at the end of the day. Its about proving to yourself that you are something epic.

Author of The Moment

It feels like my life is being written sometimes. Like I am not the one choosing what happens next. But that is just a feeling. It's not overly true. In this moment I am the author. I am the one writing out what happens next because it ultimately depends on the choices in this moment. Its like those books I used to read growing up, you know, the "Choose Your Own Adventure" books. Those ones rocked. I remember if I got to an ending that was unfavourable or if I just thought it sucked or something could have been better I would just go back and make a different choice and do that over and over and over and over again until I got what I thought was the best ending. And even if I got the best ending in the first try I usually had to see what the other options were. it was like I wanted every adventure, not just one. I havent changed. I still want to see all of the options, to try them all out. I like to know for myself whether something else might work. I know I could take someones word for it, or I could just be complacent with where things are going, but even when they are going along splendidly I still have that inkling to see what else is out there. I wonder if I will ever just be content with where things are at, or if I will always be itching for another adventure. And that might not be a bad thing, there is the possibility that it will just continually push me to grow and learn and become a stronger more well rounded person. Or it could go the other way and I could end up letting epic things die out while I am trampling in the long grass looking for something shiny. Time will tell since we dont know how it will end.

Do I End Up Happy?

The one question. Really, the only one that matters. If I could only find out one answer it would be that. It doesn't matter where I end up, or who I end up with, or how much money I have. None of that matters. All that matters is whether or not I am happy in the end. At the end of the day can I go to sleep with a smile somewhere inside knowing that I am happy? That I have made the right choices. Thats really what matters most in life. The rest will work itself out if it has led to me being happy in the end. So instead of constantly looking for trivial answers or guessworking my future, I can just know that to me all that is relevant in the big picture is that one question.

Do I end up happy?

And Then I Turned Seven

It clings to you, like wet clothes in the rain. You cant shake the attachments, the emotions, the memories, the smiles and joys, the heartaches. It's like you are back in highschool. Like nothing has changed. And all if took was a few words from a song. You rapidly search for the album, as the seconds pass you feel taken back. Its like a warm hug allowing yourself to let go of the present and remember some of the stupid things that are related to that album.

Music defined my highschool life, as well as the first few years of college. I think back to the days of skinny jeans, boys skate shoes, band shirts, emo music, punk shows and nexopia. Who are we kidding, I miss all of those things. My favourite skate shoes were beyond wearing and were let go before I moved. My stack of band shirts were carefully laid in a large clear container. My cds were alphabetized and left in a brown box with a sharpie note scribbled across the top so that they would be loved while I was gone. Nexopia faded to fb and eventually I closed my account. And yet it just takes moments and I feel so drawn back to it all.

I miss the wasted hours on Purevolume listening to some other little unknown obscure band. I miss knowing all those obscure bands and having no knowledge whatsoever of popular music. I know I have grown up and created a new life around myself. One that involves shopping at yoga stores instead of skate shops. One that involves weekends studying not trying to find a parking space on a gravel road in a seedy part of town because we found some show to go to. This grown up lifeish sort of thing is great and all. I know responsibility and have learned to take on complete independence, but I cant help but wonder how I let some things go. I wonder if I could only manage things better to incorporate every side of myself. Or if its one of those things that has to fade as I mature.

When did I decide that growing up meant forgetting about the things I used to revolve my life around? Maybe its okay to let your past be part of your present.

Except if it Doesnt Work out, Then It Ends in Heart Suck

I get annoyed when people tell me about love and how great it is and blah blah blah. Yes, I am very aware it exists. I am also aware that I know over 30 people that put a ring on it this past year. But then again I also know what its like to be broken hearted. So as much as it is lovely and all for so many people to be in some blissful realm of unreality in love, I prefer a more grounded route involving me not living in a bubble unable to face facts. I am quite sure things will work out for me in that department one day, maybe not entirely how I want it. Because lets face it, at this exact second I could tell you exactly what I want to happen because I do care about someone that much. But then again, I also have enough sense and people to remind me of logicality, that I dont fancy any more chats about romance in the near future. I am taking a mental vacation from the subject as I am not currently open minded to your thoughts about how great it is that I deeply care about someone and how its bound to work out. You know what, it has every odd against it working out and if it doesnt, then I will be left in a place known as "heart suck". So yes, I am no longer going to stress about all of the people getting married, especially the boys from my past. I am no longer going to stress about "us" or if there can be an "us" or any of those silly little things. Instead I will continue to just live my life over here, because as stressful as it is, it is kinda epic. This isnt me giving up on the plague called love, it is me accepting it and living my life because thats all you can do sometimes.

Lenting.

I am not catholic. I have never participated in lent before. But this year I am all in. I am not even sure exactly how I found myself so keen to be all over it. I think part of it is because I have been getting into all holidays, why not take a moment to celebrate someone else's culture or country or religion? It provides learning opportunities and heaps of fun. So I embraced "Pancake Tuesday"- or in non-european countries "Fat Tuesday". I woke up and made the traditional european pancakes, crepes. And it was an epic start to an overall dull and non-stellar day. And then wednesday came and I thought about how I had been wanting to cut out chips and chocolate and lollies. Basically my three favourite things. And with the flood and then exams and then travelling they had been finding their way to my hips rather often. I knew it needed to be resolved but I just hadnt managed to find that motivation. So I took up lent. Its only been 2 days and it feels like ages. Not because I miss eating delicious pieces of extremely unhealthy food, but because the days have been so long it just seems like a lot of time has passed when it hasnt.

So cold turkey it is. I am embracing lent for the first time and have abandoned something for the next 40 days. Mind you, when easter comes I plan on eating my favourite chocolates from home. Lent doesnt mean giving something up forever. Although I do appreciate that the catholics give something up as a sacrifice in similitude of Christ's sacrifice, so when I think of the deeper meanings I do think it is beautiful.

Unicorn Tears

Somehow those two words evoke strong emotions in me. Initially because I know its a new colour for my favourite company and I definitely want something in it. And then because it's unicorn tears, they scream magic and pain and healing and hope. Somedays are like unicorn tears, bitter and painful for some reason but at the same time they hold this glimmer of life and hope that little else compares to.

Life has such an odd way of being really hard in the simplest ways but then something always happens that draws you back from the breaking point. Life was feeling so bitter today after I felt like people were so human, full of unknowing and error and a lack of helpfulness because of this. And then the most stressful situation of the day and probably the week if not more, turned out to be exactly what I needed. I needed to be thrown back into my element, to be sharing my passion with others and to have a chance to recognize my progress and growth. I needed to meditate and find myself again, it was time to regroup.

So as I continually think of how incredible it would be if we could go around collecting little unicorns or how intense the healing powers of unicorn tears must be, I realize that some days are definitely unicorn tears days, and that I must purchase an article or two in that shade.

Wordless Thoughts

They are not thoughtless words, each word has been mulled over, and over and over. I have started heaps of posts this last week and abandoned them mid thought or sentence, sometimes even mid word. Not because I have nothing to say but because I have so many things to let out that I just cant seem to find the right medium, or the right words. So the thoughts just keep piling up until they begin spilling over. Coming out in a fury of words with few breaths taken as it pours out.

I was beginning to feel confused as to why none of these words were relatable to my blog. But then I realized that all of those things I wanted to unleash were tied to emotions and I didnt have words, just feelings. And furthermore all of those feeling related thoughts werent just to be tossed to the wind, they were to be saved for a time when I would be full of courage and ready to open up. So sometimes I think its best when I dont just scribble down or hit post for all of the things I think I need to share. Sometimes the thoughts are just too much thoughts and not enough in word form for here.

On an unrelated note, but in my mind entirely related note, I found a new thinking place. On the desk there is just enough space to sit comfortably next to the mirror with my knees bent and my toes against the wall. Its the perfect place as its inset and like I am not a part of the room when I sit there. It screams security. So thats where I go when I have those words to share. When exasperation starts my thought process you can know thats where I am sitting.

Eurotopia

I was just in Europe. And it was perfect. It was everything I had spent years imagining. I got there and it took my breath away. Yes, it was exactly what I had hoped for. It had the most beautiful architecture I had ever seen. And it was everywhere. Very few buildings were not stunning. It had history, heaps of it, and little shops everywhere. There were little market stores and bakeries everywhere. It felt like I was returning home, to a home I didnt know I had been missing. It was like it completed me a little bit. Being there was ecstasy.

And then there was a moment when I realized that it could be just a little bit better if someone was there with me. But thats a whole different story. So even though this post is so inadequate for the two blissful weeks I spend in Europe something needed to be said. Barcelona is definitely a place that holds part of my heart and there arent really words for it. It was just everything I had hoped for and felt like a fairytale, one that I will revisit in my mind all the time. Most likely when I sit looking over and over the thousand or so photos taken to capture those memories. xo Europe

And We Trust Like Mirrors

You pass a parked car or a window and unknowingly glance at your reflection, you may acknowledge it or you may not even realize it. As you bend over the sink washing your hands throughout the day you may glance up and see yourself. Or how about in the mornings as you prepare for the day, or in the elevator full of mirrors. Or perhaps it will be in the gym you will see something looking back. Regardless of where it happens, it happens. We rely on these reflections because without them we dont really know entirely how we look. We could just base it off of other people, but often that doesnt give us the peace of mind that we are hoping for. So we trust the mirrors. We carefully put ourselves together or adjust something in our appearance as we look at that reflection because we trust it is showing us the truth.

There are so many things we cant just take from someones word, or that we dont want to ask about. We just try and find something tangible enough to hold onto. Something that sees it the same way we do. Thats why we trust like mirrors. Its just a reflection of what we see.

Also I miss jamisonparker, I wish they had made more cds.

Pokemon Apokelypse

I have no shame whatsoever in admitting I like Pokemon. I play the game on my gameboy advance sometimes. and well, I beat Pokemon Blue on my sick old school gameboy in August. Yes, years of playing between my college classes finally led to me beating the game again. Epic.

So when I was sent this link slightly as a joke I was psyched. I literally felt my life changing as I watched it. Sadly its not actually being made into a film. But if it was I would see it multiple times and add it to my top ten for sure. So enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sDX1m0Y2Vkg&feature=player_embedded

Terminator: What My Running Technique Makes People Think

Just because the nice man offers you candy it doesnt mean you should jump into his windowless van.

That seems like an unrelated quote. It is, entirely.

I often joke about how running, as a female, you often have guys honk or yell things, and how that can be a bit of a boost as its like "yah I am out running and I do look good". haha. Thats the thought process I have. So when I was running and realized it was dear friends honking I just laughed and kept running forgetting about the scenario entirely.

They however, had a detailed thought process occur after it, which I have the good fortune of including. " we saw you running the other day and i thought your arms were going to turn to liquid metal and reshape in the form of hooks followed by you jumping onto the back of a car and using the hooks to hang on like terminator." I then laughed and was impressed with the excessively long thought process. And the response was "we had a longer though process as to why you might be terminator lol. ranged from you were hunting for the next sacrificial victim for the cult or the cult had kicked you out and were trying to kill you in order to keep their secrets"

So I apparently inspire active imaginations as I run. Perhaps I should put this on my resume so I will have an easier time finding a job at a gym, I mean who wouldnt want a Terminator for a trainer?

Your Home

Things were off. A few tears had escaped in the moments I was alone in the room. Not technically tears of pain, but not not tears of pain. Perhaps of intense fear. It just was an uncomfortable situation, I didnt want to be there, not alone. But that was not something changeable. Upon leaving I made a call, it was midnight your time but you were waiting. You did your best to not act tired and to offer words of love and advice, you hold the role of mother in every aspect.

But I didnt want to be alone. I knew if I went in and shut the door I would feel overwhelmed. My mind would race to all of the possible impossibilities and I would begin to think of the worst options. So I went to your home. It was my home temporarily, only because you had opened your door to me. And the moment I was back in there sitting on the couch it once again felt like my home. I dont think you will ever know how much it means to have the two of you around. We dont spend every second chatting or sit around sharing our deepest secrets amid candles. But I know that when you guys are around I have nothing to worry about, that you will always be there for me and that I will always have your home to call my own when I need it. So I sat there, quieter than usual as was pointed out. That didnt matter. I just felt secure and free from the wilderness of my imagination and the worrisome place it can be. I love your home.

I dont know how to thank you, perhaps I shall bake you the only special thing I know.

The Now

You have this book I am actually psyched to borrow. I know you said lots of religious people arent a fan, but I feel like my perspective on life will fit in with this book. And our surrounding conversations have left my head spinning. The now. How little time we each spend there. Our constant glancing towards the past or future and worryings of things that will never happen outside of our imaginations. It all happens so often, but how often do we remember the now? Not enough. I miss those days of yoga all day, when I could just meditate and the times I spent finding out who I was once the layers and things placed upon me were removed. Today I have wasted heaps of time worrying about things I cant change and that likely wont happen near as disasterly as I can imagine them. So I am closing my mind to those thoughts. I am ready for an evening of now.

My Golden Rule of Flying

Similar to many normal humans I do not like public bathrooms. I also am a nervous pee-er. I do not like thinking people can hear me pee. So when I fly I have a golden rule, "Do Not Use the Bathrooms". No problem. Prior to November I had never been on a way long flight. November marked my first 14 hour flight. No problem, pee before and after and sleep during. Nailed it. Then I recently embarked on a magical trip to Europe. This involved nearly 30 hours of flights there. Again, I followed that golden rule to a t. On the way back I was doing great. Til I woke up feeling ill and then somehow made it to the bathroom barely in time to vomit. Yes, I was that person that threw up on the plane, at least no one saw. So the rule was broken. It was a tragic moment. Partially because I was throwing up and still have 2.5 hours of that flight, a 2 hour layover and 8 more hours to fly, but mostly because the rule was broken.

Everyone has some rules like that I think. Perhaps yours are not as ridiculous or strange as mine, but I am not ashamed of it or anything. Its entirely logical in my head. I am just thinking though how crazy it is that we set up these rules, things we will never ever do, but then BAM! Circumstances change and we just break it, without much more than a second thought. Hopefully we dont do that for what matters most, but I think sometimes we do. Golden Rules should be made for reasons, and not broken unless essential. I have taped up my golden rule for flying and it is once again in effect.

Stunner.

Every now and again something happens that makes you stop. Its like the instincts of an animal. You hear something, or feel something, or get a sense that something just isnt quite right. So you stop dead. You just pause and hold your breath trying to decipher it. But perhaps it is just out of reach. Or its gone in that instant. So you brush it off, you take a few breaths and you try and forget about it. And you do. Until something a little more happens. Then it occupies your mind and you cant get it out until you deal with it. Until you figure it out, until you ensure that everything is okay. But in those moments, when fear has taken over someone will be there. Maybe it will be a middle of the night text when they cant sleep but its clearly waking hours for you. Or maybe it will just be something obscure. Either way, you will get back on track.

I still feel stunned. But the hours just are wrong. I cant do anything until morning. But somehow I keep telling myself it will be fine. I probably just am sensitive and cautious and my ears are perking up at the slightest nothing. So I will call and get some peace of mind. But until then, I may stay a little stunned wondering why those moments of feeling like you are in total control of your life can never last more than hours. Maybe thats the whole game of it, maybe we are meant to be constantly challenged. I suppose I would feel stunted if things werent always a little tricky. So as I lay in bed tonight I will accept the stunnedness and probably just blog.

The Relevance of Escalators

If this is a page your eyes have passed before you might be wondering why the change. Why does it all seem to be different suddenly, and why not just a little, a lot. Well life happened, and keeps happening. And as it goes and I change elements of my life change, frequently out of necessity. This just happened to be one of those elements. So as the seconds continue to pass by and my eyes glance at the ever wasting seconds as I sit here I feel compelled to explain the relevance.

I am afraid of escalators. Correction. I used to be afraid of them. I am nearly at the point of having overcome this fear. And as I found myself on the longest escalators I could have imagined recently I realized how far I had come along. It wasnt long ago at all that I would just opt for the stairs, or if forced to take an escalator I would do so with great care as I would clench the siderail. Those days arent gone or forgotten. If my arm or bag brushes up against the side I get anxious and find myself breathing deeply as the feeling passes. I still stair at the moving steps as I get on each time and I still get apprehensive about getting off.

But the thing is I have decided its a ridiculous fear and one that I should overcome. So as I noted my progress of this I realized that there is a lot in my life I need to just overcome. Instead of letting things engulf me and swarm around in my head like fruit flies ravaging, I should just do something about things. So I am. I have started taking those bigs steps I have been avoiding. I am no longer going to reside in my own shadow as I watch my fears and concerns be my forerunners to life. I would rather actually put myself out there and try and figure life out than to just continue to be trampled and insecure.

I am determined to get on the escalators that seem to be the hard options but often the right ones.