Collecting the Pieces

I’ve hit a brick wall. On a scale of pleasant to dreadful, my running has been off the charts bad. I hate judging it this way, but the pure fact stands out that I know how good my running can feel and have consistently experienced quite the opposite lately. It defeats me.

So, I’ve shoved it into a distant corner to collect dust. What a way to deal with life, huh?

And truly, what does that say about me in this moment? In almost seven years, this is the first six-month stretch of suffering. In all of my running, 93% of the time it has been wonderful. If I can run a marathon, why can’t I push through this 7%?

Being human in this life experience is a bitch sometimes.

If I know one thing in life, I know myself. I am fearless, resilient, hopeful, and always ready for a challenge. Perhaps it’s the altitude, the move, being out of shape, or another excuse? These things have never stopped me in the past. I am a runner, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to continue to let this experience dim what has been such a light in my life.

I’m angry. Hurt. Sad. Ashamed at how much I’ve avoided this and shoved it away. But I am ready to forgive myself and move on.

I’m ripping the band-aid off at a half marathon tomorrow for which I’m desperately undertrained, but you had better believe I’m going to do it with a marathoner’s mindset and a smile.

It’s okay to really dig into the bad parts, to experience them fully and just feel. Without them we would have no basis to appreciate the amazing moments that life brings.

So truly, what does that say about me in this moment?

Desert Love Letter

Sand...tiny little rocks. Small sediment and layers of time, slowly swirled into the contours of the canyons. I gaze in wonder at the sharp towers, the steep walls, and the smooth plateaus. Such intricate patterns, carved over time and preserved just for this moment - this contact, soul to soul.

I recognize this landscape.

It’s the smoothness of time sifting through our hands, falling out of reach. The rocky pillars, building up with the silent winds of personal pressure, until we can no longer navigate the caves of our inner voice. The strong boulders falling, forcing us to shift. The sweltering heat of high noon that sends us searching for shelter.

But it’s also the hope in the slight crack of the first light of dawn. The singular bud on a tiny cactus, promising to bloom tomorrow. The sand between my toes, scraping off the skin that no longer serves my body. And the slowly stacked cairns guiding our way. That is, if we can spot them.

Anatomy of a Gift

Tis the season. The sparkling snow, warm cookies, belly laughs, crackling fires, giggling children, family stories, mistletoe kisses...and perfectly wrapped presents. Love everywhere (and *hopefully* mountains of snow)!

I can't remember the last time I was so excited to go home for the holidays. I find myself deeply needing the gifts of the season this year, noticing that some recent days have been harder than others in allowing myself to experience life's gifts fully. Is living itself not the greatest gift we've been given?! Oh the joy of being human! These minds of ours can run us ragged in mysterious ways, and I've had enough of mine small-talking me. 

The beautiful thing is: we can rewrite this script. Stress? Relatives? Money? Travels? We are driving the sleigh - we choose how to react, to perceive, to appreciate the gifts of these teachers.

Each day as I awake into a morning haze, I pause and remind myself that I've never experienced today before. That others will not receive the same day that I am gifted to receive. That I'm in charge of choosing love, joy, and life in the moments to come and fully embracing what arrives.

The effect of this small edit in my day has been building. It brings positive energy each time: the ability to pull myself out of a funk one day, a greater voice to express my love the next, and more. 

What can you allow yourself to receive this holiday season? In what way? No need to overthink it - mini movements are powerful (plus, I hear the best gifts come in small packages!).

Happy Holidays to you and yours - sending love, gratitude, and joy for your 2017!

The Final Puzzle Piece

Eyes closed, body swaying, melody flowing ear to ear...it all clicked. 

In that moment I realized the very thing that had been missing. Just as I had done so many times before, I opened my eyes at the concert. This time, with a glimmering new awareness.

I don't think the artist even made a difference. Nor the breathtakingly beautiful venue. It wouldn't have mattered much what kind of day I had earlier. The catalyst was the pure reconnection to one of my primal needs that had been laying dormant, dissatisfied, and overgrown for far too long.

Music has been a large part of my life from a young age.
I can still recall the anticipation of playing fur elise on the piano from memory, hands dancing on the keys and heart hanging onto the hope that I wouldn't mistouch a key and ruin the chords.

When I see a ring box, I'm taken back to my 16th birthday. Opening the box so slowly, just knowing it held a secret. The rush of excitement when I saw the guitar picks hiding within, and a feeling of relief when I held my Ibanez for the first time. The sorrow I felt when I realized that, despite my determination, I was not cut out to play. That was indeed my first real breakup, and it was painful.

High school years filled with tours, basement concerts, and my best friends serenading each other into the endless hours of the night.

That simple feeling of enjoying the present moment when you close your eyes at a show and know that this is the only time the concert will ever occur on that day, at that venue, with that crowd - each one unrepeatable in its essence. 

Or the comfortable ability to spend time with someone, no words necessary, just an album humming in the background,

Just as I had done so many times before, I opened my eyes at the concert. I felt a rush of simultaneous sadness and relief. Sadness that I had lost touch with myself in such an elementary way, but relief to have realized it.

Ahh, life. It endlessly overcomplicates itself if we allow it to. In reality it's so easy to go back to basics and find the simple joy of living - if we allow ourselves. Cheers to music for being a constant in my life, even in the years that I've failed to recognize it.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go back to basics - you can find me in my Chucks dancing around my living room to something that moves me <3

On Saying Goodbye

For me, this is never easy. I cling to every last second of a goodbye as if the finality will crush me. Perhaps that's a flaw, the eternal lover's demise. Whether it's a person, a place, or a perspective, I am just plain terrible at goodbye. 

As we leave Denver tonight, I can't help but wonder what is behind my emotion. Leaving this city and its wondrous mountains pains me more each time, but is it more concerning that I haven't missed My New York in weeks? Perhaps further so that I've found myself in this middle state of what-was and what-will-be?

I sigh out anticipation, preparing for my transition out of this sacred place. In the distance, a firework bursts and glimmers to fade out slowly enough that I crack a smile and think fondly back on my weekend.

Goodbyes are never easy, but at least I find comfort in knowing where my heart lies. I gaze out the window knowing that, if it's meant to be, it will be. I know nothing to be truer than this. 

My Art

I recently met a stranger in my travels. We had a lovely conversation about life, love, goals, and good things. We encouraged each other, silently acknowledging the beauty of the connection for a few life moments, and then we went our separate ways. Four words she shared have stuck with me:

"You are so creative!" she exclaimed in our discussion of hopeful future achievements. 

Creative. Weeks later, I still cannot recall the last time someone described me with this word and that thought stings. I went within, thinking deeply into why it affected me so much and why I felt such sadness in the realization of the void. 

The truth is, I think I am vibrantly creative. I am an artist in many ways - an artist who apparently has a confidence problem with her art and needs a little affirmation. How human of me!

And how silly that I haven't recognized the ongoing love and support I receive from friends and family. This support isn't specific because it doesn't need to be. The true problem is that need to get out of my own head.

Sometimes it's nice to hear these things from each other. I want you to know that I love and support you in all areas of life in which you need a confidence boost or a few words of encouragement! 

Stay tuned for the next addition of my art, coming to you in the medium of a yoga class - a carefully crafted sequence of fun and challenging movement, set to the tune of an equally inspired playlist. I'm excited to begin teaching in the new year, and I look forward to connecting next and hearing more about your art as well!

And stay creative, friends ;)

Escape

At its root, I believe that escape is perfectly healthy. Life pulls us in so many directions that it can be hard to gain full perspective and direction without stepping out of ourselves every once in a while to rebalance. Is seeking this release really such a bad thing? The word itself is defined as “breaking free from confinement or control” and who really wants to be controlled 100% of the time? (none of us)

How do you escape? I take no exception to chasing solitude, new projects, emotion, jet setting, comfort of loved ones, exercise, adventure, or the occasional weeklong bender – to me, being human is to crave these necessary retreats.

About a year ago I experienced a similar feeling, and wrote about it in this post:

“They say that you know when you need to get out of New York City. For me, that time was now. So many highs and lows in the past two weeks! Almost too much for a girl to bear, but I will tread onward and upward. Life, love, and the pursuit of happiness are never easy but those small pockets of pure joy they bring are certainly worth the struggle.

In a way, recognizing that desire to flee NYC brings me closer to my new city. We know each other more intimately now, and can accept and act on that need to spend time apart.”


I’ve experienced this feeling for the second time now, and I chose to escape. I felt the need to exit, and was on a plane less than 48 hours later. I have never been more excited to come home to the city as I was after that trip, and it was such a wonderful feeling to know that I knew exactly how to take care of myself. The funny thing about being a year older and wiser is that you’ve lived and learned. It’s comforting to know that, even when we feel that our world has become cloudy, our brain and our heart can work together to take us to exactly where we need to be.

I feel liberated and fresh, and with no guilt surrounding my choices. In fact, I’m escaping again in a couple weeks and I couldn’t be more excited! If we know we’ll need it, why not build it in?

Take care of yourself first, and the details will fall into place.