The Cliché Lesson Of Life

I haven't written in a while because I didn't slow down long enough to let myself contemplate life...

Looking back now I realize how quickly I  allowed myself to be swept back into the hectic-ness of life and honestly I wasn't concerned with it because it was all seemed positive.

The first week I was back from Costa Rica I ran my first trail run half-marathon at Smith Rock. It was a gorgeous, ass-kicking route. 

The weekend after I ran Hood To Coast with an amazing team. 

I was feeling blessed. Work started back up and everything should of felt in place, but even though I was busy and doing all the things I loved I felt stagnant. 

I came home from Costa Rica with a new perspective for life, but it only enhanced the realization that I am still getting back on my feet from the life I once had which made me want to scream. It has almost been a year now since my life radically changed. I feel silly because it is just a number but I am so excited for that one year mark. No more firsts without Jordan. No more first Christmas or Thanksgiving, I have ran many races where he is not at the finish line, I have completed so many firsts this past year without him there to cheer me on or support me when things have become tough. For me this one year mark is big because I keep proving to myself how brilliant, amazing and strong I can be.I have not only pushed forward but I have grown in ways I never expected, I have gained hobbies, passion and new relationships I would of never had if everything had stayed the same. 

And even though I am excited for this one year mark it made me realize how stagnate I felt. Nothing had actually changed since we broke up. Same job, same living situation, same everything pretty much and I wasn't OK with that. It felt as though my stagnation was eating away at my well-being. I was then dealt the news I didn't make the second cut for Peace Corps, which was a blow to my ego but deep down inside I was relived in a way. Either way this news shook me to my core and I made some drastic changes. I moved in with two close friends and told my boss I was looking for a new job which somehow got me promoted to Therapeutic Behavior Coach. For the past two months I have been trying to find my footing at in my new home and my new job. 

It has been chaotic and on top of all of it I have been marathon training and trying to keep up an all too active social life. 

(AKA I have been doing the common Rosemary mistake of going 1000 miles per hour until I crash). 

And I did crash, I crashed today. I felt it coming. I woke up early this morning and tossed and turned. My mind was racing. As I got ready for work I had this pit in my stomach. It is hard to describe but it is this anxious pit where everything in life feels like it is precariously balanced and one wrong move will make everything crumble. My crumbling moment happened when I was in a meeting with my boss and he pretty much told me to be a role model for my team, to keep my shit together when everything seems completely messed up and talk to him and as a team we will figure it out. It is hard to explain the complexity of the meeting because it is difficult to describe what I do exactly at my job, all I can say is it is fucking hard and has been literally and figuratively kicking my ass. 

I couldn't take this pressure from my boss. I wanted to scream. I don't have the capacity to work with my behavioral students and somehow seem like I have my shit together to the staff around me when my students are physically attacking me. 

I left work for the day and took my anxiety meds when I got home and looked for new jobs. My day was spent dozing in and out and looking for jobs, not really processing anything, just numbing myself enough to get through the day. 

Then I found out I didn't get into Boston Marathon, even though I made my qualifying time. 

I proceeded to convince myself that the universe was against me. 

I was really down and out and so I took the positive actions of setting an appointment for acupuncture for later in the day. When I got to the clinic the lady told me I didn't have an appointment. I about lost my shit until an acupuncturist came out and somehow had an open slot for when I was suppose to have an appointment.

I thanked the universe right then and there. 

Acupuncture allows me the time to disconnect and really hone in on life and what I need to dig deep into. I took two hours to dig and dig. As I walked home I cried and cried and realized the world doesn't owe me shit.

The world owes us, human kind, nothing. If anything we owe the world and as this realization set in I started to realize I am not on this earth for the universe to make my life pretty and perfect. 

Something instead has driven me to work with really hard individuals and honestly I am exhausted from the work and its only been  three years. I feel like I am swimming upstream as dead, stinky fish float past me and I just want to let go and float with the dead fish. 

I never wanted anything more than that today. I haven't been that low in a very long time and it scared me. I have come to far to feel so dark. 

So I told myself what I normally tell myself:

"PULL THE STICK OUT OF YOUR ASS ROSEMARY"

and I did and this is what I decided. The universe, as much as I want to believe it is out to get me, is not. The lovely universe is only teaching me lessons that I need to be taught, the universe it teaching me how to communicate, how to advocate, how to listen to myself and my needs. The universe is teaching me once again to trust my gut and listen to myself.

To slow the fuck down. 

I am always being to taught to slow down. 

Because when I look back on the past three week I have been going for it, hard, refusing to slow down even though I wasn't feeling like myself. I could feel the anxiety creeping in. I had the universe silently whispering in my ear that if I kept going at this speed I would implode.

Implode I did and now I am back to re-centering myself. 

I made these two jars that I have written on them "life" and "work". In these jars I am placing a slip of paper every day that says one thing positive that happened at work and in life. I have pulled out my "Moments of Mindfulness" book and set my alarm early so I can go for my two mile wake up jog and morning yoga practice. 

I know my job isn't going to get any easier and I may find a new job, I know nothing in life is going to get easier. We don't learn how to thrive if life is easy. The cliche saying is true, the toughest times teach the best lessons. 

Costa Rica: Pura Vida, Part 2

I feel like you are suppose to say "traveling was amazing" and never admit that all though yes, my travels were fantastic there were still moments that were hard, really hard.

Not only am I admitting that, but I expected that. I didn't go to Costa Rica solely for a vacation. I went because life at home wasn't forcing me to move beyond a certain point of stagnation I had reached.

It has almost been a year now from when I thought I had my life planned out or at least had a rough idea of the direction it was going and who I was going through life with.

Before I left for Costa Rica, I had managed to stabilize my life and myself into a functioning person, a semi-happy person that kept really busy. If I wasn't working, I was running, if I wasn't running, I was climbing, if I wasn't climbing I was going out.

I couldn't stand being still and I saw nothing wrong with that but on the inside I still didn't feel like myself. I never fully felt comfortable or relaxed. I was always searching to find something or someone to bring me peace.

When I arrived in Costa Rica I tried to keep up the same momentum but it wasn't possible. Let me explain to you why.

The farm is COMPLETELY SECLUDED!

The farm was located a bus ride away from the nearest big city, San Isidro and the tiny town, Rivas, was a two mile hike in and had one grocer, maybe 3 bars and a coffee/bakery shop.

Everyone at the farm filled their time after work by reading, playing cards, staring at birds, staring at each other, etc. I think you get the picture, if you weren't OK with doing nothing the farm could drive you insane and honestly it did the first few days.

My mind races when it has nothing to preoccupy it so for the first few days I read viciously and finished Game of Thrones, I really thought that book would last me my whole trip. After my book was done I started reading other books but I can only read so much without going whacky.

So I started running more. Walter gave me running routes around the town, down gravel roads that had hills that I am not even sure if I could call them hills they were so steep, they were these sick twisted inclines you were somehow suppose to get up without dying. (I got serious thigh power now!)

But I couldn't run all day, the hills, the heat, and the the humidity were too much. About a week in a was introduced to the river that ran behind our farm.

It was my saving grace.

Everyday after my run I would come down to the river. Sometimes I would just sit in the water, sometimes I would journal, other times read, but most of the time I would just think.

One day in particular I was having a really hard time. I was realizing that the aching feeling inside of me, the one I always had even at home was just the ache of loneliness. Costa Rica was forcing me to accept that the life I once had, the comfort I once had of knowing I alway had someone was gone and I had to toughen up and learn to embrace life alone, without a partner at least for the time being.

After I got past this hard realization I began to feel really happy, ecstatic almost and I started realizing how many amazing people I do have in my life and all the beautiful people in the world there are to meet.

But Costa Rica taught me even though there are beautiful people in my life and I get to meet these brilliant people daily, that people come in and out of our lives. Nothing is ever permanent and its a harsh reality to accept.

My first two weeks at the farm I became close to the group of WOOFers that were there, we called ourselves a family. We did everything together but they were all leaving before me. The day the last of our WOOF crew left I was sad and I was left again feeling alone. It made me realize how much I rely on having companionship and how important being in relationship with people is to me.

Instead of letting it get me down though I decided to plan my own adventures. Considering I started this trip thinking I would be doing everything solo I thought it was time I embark on my solo adventures. I planned trips to Uvita and La Fortuna and yet even on these trips I did not go alone.

I am starting to realize my personality is one to invite people in, and as new WOOFers showed up at the farm I not only invited them in, I invited them with me and I began forming a new pack.

It wasn't until my last few days in Costa Rica was I traveling alone and I went back down to my favorite beach.

There was something special about Uvita, it has an energy I cannot describe. When I was there it made me feel like I was safe.

I also met a local there that really made an impression on me. There was something about his carefree ways, humor and yet honest remarks that made me think.

I could tell he hadn't had the easiest life, he talked about his time in America, how his mom left him, his various jobs in Costa Rica. He now works at a hostel near the beach and I remember him saying nonchalantly "people come and people go" as I was talking about how sad it was that he got to meet all these people and form all these relationships for just a short period of time. Life had hardened him, I don't think there was a moment I didn't see a drink in his hand. I was lucky enough though to spend actual time with him, sober time with him, and got to know a different side and as I left Uvita to catch my bus to come home  I began to realize that my heart will always be drawn to people like him. People with the tough stories.

Costa Rica made me realize that I need to be in relationships with people. I want to share my life story with as many people as possible. I want people to feel safe with me. I want to be able to fix everything.

I am not a fixer, no one person can fix another person's life. I can alter it and show love but I cannot fix. I am accepting that and am accepting that people will not always be in my life forever. I am working on quiet times and not staying so damn busy.

It is funny actually, the day I got home I started feeling under the weather. The next day I spent the day with my sister and ran 8 miles. Essentially I came home and refused to slow down and I got really sick. It was like my body was reminding me what I learned in Costa Rica, to slow down.

I spent my first 3 days home after my first day back lying on the couch feeling like death wanting to go 100 miles per hour but my body wouldn't let me. Costa Rica taught me to be still but being home it is hard to keep practicing that lessons.

But I am going to keep practicing times of stillness and not being constantly busy. I am going to practice accepting the help of others, and knowing that I cannot fix everything.

Going to Costa Rica was a challenge, but I think being home is even more of a challenge. I miss having my hands in the soil, and spending hours watching birds and feeling like everything was alright. There was no pressure like there is here at home.

And yet I am convinced that someway it is possible to find that peace here at home with enough time and dedication to work on the lessons Costa Rica taught me.

My hope is to learn that lessons and pass it on to others to find peace within themselves and within life.

Costa Rica: Pura Vida, Part 1

It was pitch black when I woke up gasping for breath.

It was another anxiety attack of what was to come.

As I tried to slow my breathing I had to laugh at myself. Why was I was so worried to go travel by myself?

As regrouped myself and practiced my breathing exercises I slowly fell back asleep.

In the morning I awoke with the sunrise and remembered "Oh shit, I am having anxiety attacks because I am off my anxiety medication".

About 6 months ago I poured all my medications down the toilet and flushed them. Up until then I had been doing great. I was committed to living my life and accepting my feelings without meds to alter who I truly am.

I was embracing everything I felt and thought wholly instead of trying to medicate my true personality and I loved it until I had to face real anxiety.

The day I left for Costa Rica I was a nervous mess. My nervous energy was never ending. I was like a honey bee on crack buzzing around everywhere. I was annoying myself but when I finally made it to the airport I went into travel mode and thought I had started to calm down.

My flight was at midnight. I told myself I would sleep on the plane, I didn't sleep at all. When I arrived in Chicago at 5am I was exhausted and nauseas. I tried to sleep during my layover with no success. Again on my flight to San Jose sleep did not avail me.

When we landed in Costa Rica and got off the plane I was 110% overwhelmed. My Spanish is OK but far from fluent. Getting through customs, to a taxi and to the bus station was a struggle to say the least. I went into survival mode to just get to the bus that would take me to the farm I was going to work at.

Walter (the main farm hand) had emailed me earlier and told me to only take the red cabs. So when I got outside of the airport I searched for red cabs. I was bombarded with offers for rides. I am pretty sure if I could of seen my face it would of been an "my eyes are going to pop out of my head, oh shit, I am a lost gringo face". One man came up speaking english and offered to take my bag and give me a ride. Stupidly enough I nodded and walked with him. Did he drive a red taxi? Oh no, of course not, it was a big white creeper van and I realized I fucked up. I was trying to figure out if he was legit or not as we loaded my stuff into the creeper van. I climbed in the van and prayed to my lucky stars I wouldn't get kidnapped. As he drove me he danced and sprayed cologne on himself the entire way. By the end I convinced myself he was trying to suffocating me to death with Axe body spray, but that is all that went wrong because he dropped me off at the bus station, Musoc, and wished me well.

At the bus station I somehow got the right ticket for the right bus.

(Costa Rica's bus system is the most ridiculous, complicated system I have ever seen. Seriously, its like a sick game of hide and seek and once you are on the bus they take like a minimum of 3 hours to get anywhere.)

Before the bus came I had a minor breakdown/freak out. I was starting to believe I had made a terrible choice coming here by myself. I missed home and my comfort zone but I was quickly shaken out of my freak out because I had to board the bus. The bus ride was a good 4 hours of curving, winding hills but I was in awe of lush, green landscape Costa Rica had to offer. There was pure feeling about passing through the hills that gave me a sense of serenity.

When I arrived in San Isidro (the town closest to where the farm was) Walter picked me up. I had no idea what to expect and I did not expect a bald german man who was, well a rather rough around the edges. He was nice enough as he drove me to the farm and showed me around but I could tell he was "take no shit" kind of person. As we walked around the farm he looked at me and he eventually stopped and looked at me and told me to go to bed. I was rather taken back but I realized he probably understood how exhausted I was.

I fell asleep early that night completely overwhelmed, sweating and swatting bugs away. All I could think was "what have I gotten myself in to?"

Fast forward to 33 days later (I'll fill in stories of those 33 days later in more blogs to come) I was sitting at Tracopa, yet another bus station, crying (again) not because I was overwhelmed but because saying good-bye was too hard to do.

I had made a family in Costa Rica and a new way life that embraced my weird quirks and odd personality.

 

Walter, the blunt German, quickly became like an Uncle to me. I cherish the days we spent wandering in the garden and the coffee dates where he would give the best life advice without even knowing it. I miss his abrasive terms and how he called everything "shit!" He always seemed to have answer for every dilemma, normally it was "eat a banana" but eating a banana never failed.

The other farmers, (Courtney, Gloria, Sara, Arthur, Sarah, Annie, Ari) all taught me something beautiful. They taught me to love myself, flaws and all. When your stuck on a farm for a month with little to do after work hours you talk, honestly and openly. They gave me a chance to be vulnerable and they embraced my story and loved me. They taught me to never let fear make my decisions and to try everything, yes EVERYTHING, at least once. I learned to always ask questions and never be afraid to speak what is on my mind.

The locals showed me how friendly people can be and at the same time how blunt people can be. They always spoke what was on their mind and I came to appreciate that because the guessing game was taken out of the picture. If a local wanted to say something they just came out and said it, but their outgoing, friendly nature made their brash ways non-intimidating. I was out to drink with a local I became close with and as we chatted he looked at me and said "you know, you are weird sometimes" and I cannot help but laugh because that it true Costa Rican culture.

Every day I would go on a run through different parts of the tiny town I was staying in. Every day people would wave and say "Buenos Dias" or "Pura Vida"or if you looked completely lost at the bus station someone would always try and help (even if they had no clue what I was talking about). They taught me to smile and laugh without hesitation and to live in the moment.

When I planned my trip to Costa Rica I was hoping it was have an effect on my entire life, I left searching to find myself, to reconnect with the girl that was lost and harden from one hell of a bad year. I could of never guessed it would change my whole demeanor and allow me to gain a whole new acceptance and love for who I am.  

Chasing Sensations

I some how ended up going to yoga for overweight individuals.

I have no idea how I did that, apparently I need to read the class description better next time. The class was not physically strenuous but the teacher taught the class in a way that made you connect your body to the ground (all we did was floor poses) in a way I had never practiced before.

She told us to yield to the ground, to learn to work with gravity and how your body responds to gravity.

As we were working through poses she would ask us where our bodies where in relation to the ground, were we working with the ground or pushing away from the ground? Were we searching for a new kind of sensation, instead of settling and being comfortable relying on the ground for stability.

She proceeded to go on a ten minute tangent about how as human kind we are constantly looking for sensations, sensations make us feel alive.

This brought me back to a previous conversation I had earlier in the week with a friend (who also likes to push boundaries) about why we must test fate and taunt death to feel alive.

I came up with that I enjoy being able to see how far my body can go, how far I can push myself. I feel alive when I know my body is not a limitation.

But I do not honestly know if that is what it is...what is it about experiencing sensations and the need to feel that makes us go to extremes?

And beyond that how is "extreme" defined?  Extremes are extremely (pun!) individualistic.

For example, my friend who I was talking with earlier this week loves the idea of high lining and then jumping off the middle of it in a flying squirrel suit.

The idea intrigues me but my idea of extreme is vastly different. I love the idea of running an ultra marathon as my extreme.

And because are ideas of extremes and how we chase sensations are so vastly different, does that make how we connect to one another different?

We will ever fully grasp the other person's perspective?

The sensations that we chase and how we achieve those sensations greatly defines humans as they are.

Are we more drawn to people who chase sensations similarly?

The past 7 months I have been on a journey to redefine and reconnect with my whole self, this has led me on many adventures and experiences and I truly believe people are drawn together who have similar extremes which create the sensation that they need.

It may sound weird, the term "sensation" is a strange way to explain anything, but for me sensations are the way we feel alive.

My yoga teacher told me to work with gravity and yield to the ground, but when we yield how does that make us feel alive?

There needs to a steady tension between healthy yielding and knowing when to keep pushing, because without that where is the point in living?

"The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain" -Lord Byron

PDE: Public Display of Emotion

Public display of emotion, what so wrong with it? 

Why is it when someone has a big emotion people look and stare and then shuffle away and whisper about what they have just witnessed.

The other day I was walking downtown and a man, who appeared to be a business man, he was nicely dressed and seemed to be put together, was excitedly jumping around and celebrating. 

I watched as people shuffled around and commentated. I heard a few chuckles and a few comments saying the man was crazy. I could see maybe calling him crazy if he looked homeless, because that would be all to stereotypical. 

But a man, a business man, celebrating in public...does that make him crazy?

What about public displays of emotion makes people so uncomfortable? 

I atteneded Dane's funeral today. 

It was heart wrenching. Dane was a Portland Police Office and the funeral had the ceremonial traditions for any fallen officer. So the funeral opened with bag pipes and closed with bag pipes playing Amazing Grace. 

It was really emotional, I found myself holding my breath and biting my lip to keep the tears from streaming down my face and as I looked around everyone else was doing something similar. We were all choking back the tears. 

When the ceremony ended, I was talking to my sister, who also attended the funeral. 

I had a slew of random questions like,

-How often do you think the bag pipe players practice?

-Is that their only job?

-How long do you think they have been playing together?

I had to explain myself because the questions were a bit random. I admitted that instead of sitting with the pain of thinking about Dane, I let my mind be distracted with useless questions that kept me from breaking down.

Even after the funeral, as Dane's wife and children walked out, they kept it together, they were stoic.

We are taught to be stoic when faced with tragedy. 

But I don't understand why. 

Why do we make all our emotions to be all one, long stagnant, linear line? Where does that get us? 

When are we allowed to outwardly celebrate or grieve?

I don't believe masking our emotions gets us anywhere. I think keeping emotions to a minimum creates adverse emotional health affects. 

When I came home I felt exhausted and angry. I wanted nothing to do with anyone or anything. I curled up and hid. 

Later in the day I had to go to the Post Office to figure out a shipping conundrum. As I spoke with the employee helping me I became emotional, tears brimmed my eyes and as I left I broke down and sobbed in my car. 

But I made sure I kept it contained until I made it to my car, because no one wants to see someone sobbing. That is a no no in the social etiquette book. 

I wasn't upset at the Post Office (well, I was a little but not enough to cry over it). All my emotions that I bottled up from the morning at Dane's funeral came pouring out and after I let myself sit with the pain and my tears I began to feel better. I began to feel at peace. 

I went to yoga right after and was able to confine in a close friend my day and my emotions. I was able to display emotions publicly and it was cathartic. 

Now that I look back on my day I am remembering what my old, wise therapist use to tell me when I was overcoming the loss of Jordan. 

She told me: "Ride your emotions like a wave, you cannot out run the wave, it will eventually catch you, so sit in the wave and ride it until it comes to the shore". 

I always understood and appreciated this idea, but I think I understand it more after today. I have been  practicing riding the wave, but always in the comfort of my own home, where no one can see me and I don't have to show my vulnerable side but it is coming to my attention that I need to be able to ride the wave in public. 

I realize certain times it is not possible to publicly display my emotions, but I think most times it is OK. As a society we have engrained in ourselves that we must keep emotions bottled up and keep moving forward. 

Emotions in our society are not seen as productive and lucrative, they are hinderance but I coming to believe emotions are the foundation to be fully human. 

How can we interact and live within a community when we cannot even be emotionally open and honest?

It goes against the grain but I believe we need to start publicly displaying our emotions, the good and the bad. 

If I want to cheer because I found out good news, than damn it I will or if I need to cry I am going to, because life is beautiful and emotions are the essence of the soul. 

We cannot keep covering them because it makes people feel uncomfortable or because they seem unproductive. 

Be gentle first with yourself - if you wish to be gentle with others. -Lama Yeshe 

Uncertainty: (noun), The State of Hesitancy

I tried writing a few times since the marathon but all the came out was random jumbles of emotion and intellect that made zero sense to anyone that was not inside my head. 

Frankly, it made little sense to me and I am in my own head all the damn time.

So I am trying again because life has a funny way of teaching lessons through the simplest of things. 

I was at yoga tonight. I have fallen in love with this new yoga teacher. She is very grounded and teaches in such a way that reminds me to stay grounded.

Ironically enough today she spoke most poientely about uncertainty.  

She said "uncertainty is the start for adventure, uncertainty is the starting place for life" 

Uncertainty has been the theme for my past week. 

As we all know by now after reading my blog I am an anxious person and I don't necessarily do well with change. It freaks me out.

I actually just threw up all over my shower from my anxiety. (It was gross I had to pick lettuce from my drain.) 

What is causing all this anxiety you may wonder...

I graduated on Saturday. I realize this should be a time for celebration and excitement but it was the exact opposite for me. I tuned inward, became stressed, anxious and slightly depressed. 

I love learning and school has always been something I had to fall back on. It was like running for me. 

If I can have my head in a book I am content. (I am that awkward extroverted introvert that is happy with people as long as I have the fall back plan of a book that sits idly waiting in my pursue for any moment I start to feel socially inept - I actually have 3 books in my pursue right now)

So graduation, as exciting of a time as it is, I actually hate it and I HATE the question "what is your next step?"

Excuse my language but fuck you, that is how the question makes me feel, it makes me want to say fuck you and walk away because I have no idea what is next and really, does anything have to be next?

Why do we always have to have a plan? 

Guess what people, most plans that we put in place don't even work out. The universe has a much bigger picture for us out there then we could ever imagine.

And I remind myself of this, especially after I get over my anxious vomiting sessions.  

If I was still on "my plan" I would still be dating Jordan, I would probably be moving to Michigan, I would still be giving up many life adventures that I would of never had if I stuck with "my plan". 

Life didn't let me stick with my plan.

Don't get me wrong, this past week I have thought about Jordan and how comfortable and easy it was. I thought about our old bed and how easy it would be to curl up in it and be comfortable and not push myself to the next step. A tiny bit of me misses that comfort but 99.9% of me is excited for the next step.

It is terrifying knowing that I am going it alone, there isn't my counterpart to go through this adventure with me but I am learning to embrace that (sort of). 

I still get anxious and would love to not go it alone but I know in good time when I am strong in myself and strong in the fact that the universe has a plan that I must be willing to lean into that I won't always feel alone. 

I know I am not alone right now. I have lots of people in my life surrounding me and loving me but it is hard to see because they won't come with me for every step I make. 

Every step I am making is changing my life (and inadvertently also changing others) but these are my steps and I am leading the way. 

I think when we realize how much and how little control we have over our lives we all kind of get freaked out. 

Society tells us to have a plan and to have the answer but no one ever does. 

I saw one of my favorite professors at graduation sitting perched on a ledge looking scholarly. I was ecstatic to see him, he has had a huge impact on my life and when I saw him he said very little to me but he did reaffirm his belief in me when he said "Now go and change the world" 

He believes in my ability to change the world, he sees a part of me I cannot even see but with that he gives me the courage and strength to keep taking steps forward and not letting my apprehensions, fears and anxiety get the best of me as I start yet another chapter in my life. 

I may still get the anxious throw ups and I may still struggle with accepting uncertainty but if there is one thing I know is that we are all connected to this world, our feet are what ground us, we are all roots growing up into this universe that has a brilliant plan that will nourish us and let us flourish if we allow it. 

"Detach from needing to have thing work out a certain way. The universe is perfect and there are no failures. Give yourself the gift of detaching from your worries and trust that everything is happening perfectly" -Orin 

Running The Big Sur

I ran the Big Sur Marathon yesterday, so naturally I have to blog about it.

The whole experience was a whirl wind. Leading up to it I was convinced my body was telling me NOT to do. 

I had (well have, back to stage one of healing) a serious hamstring strain and 4 days before the race I got a nasty head cold but I am stubborn and refused to let anything stop me. 

Luckily I had outside strength to support me. My spectacular sister and niece surprised me and came with me down to the race, I cannot really put into words how much this meant to me. My sister has always been my hero, role model and strength ever since I was little I have looked up to her, so knowing she was at the end of the course gave me the strength I needed to cross that finish line. 

I also had my Team In Training peeps. I can better explain how amazing they are when I tell you about the day’s events.

Alright, so Big Sur Marathon, you have to get bused to the start.

So my team and I roll our asses out of bed at 3am, my amazing roomie made me coffee as I tried to clear my lungs of phlegm and empty my nose.

We all meandered down to the busses and loaded on. It is really quiet a sick way to start the race. The buses take you up the race course in the pitch black so you can feel the hills but you have no idea what it is actually like. 

One of my race mates said and I quote “what kind of maniacal genius created this race?” 

We then were put in this tiny waiting area with thousands of other runners who are waiting to start the race. (excuse my crude humor but it kind of felt like a refugee camp) There were port-a-potty galore (which stank like nervous poops) coffee and bananas. It was strange. Luckily for my team, my brilliant teammate Kevin brought mustaches so we got to wear mustaches and look like idiots before we started the race.

By the time we were sent to our corrals the sun had risen and we were realizing it would not be a cool day but we didn’t let it phase us, we all hugged and went into our separate racing corrals. I was left with only Kevin in my running corral. He probably knows me the best out of the team and kept reaffirming that I could do this, it was like he knew I needed to keep hearing it.

When the race started it was easy. The first five miles are relatively downhill (by downhill I mean little rolling hills) I was able to shake out my jitters but I also realized my leg wasn’t wanting to cooperate and I had more snot in my nose then I knew what to do with. 

Mile 5-9 is all a blur. I remember singing “They be hating” and forcing myself to hydrate, eat, and trying not to shoot snot rockets on any of the other race participants. 

At mile 9 life got real, in the distance you can see the infamous Hurricane Ridge, the proclaimed hardest hill of the course, its two miles straight up in the sun and wind. At mile 9.5 I made myself stop and go pee and readjust my mind set. (Yeah I totally peed on myself because I was in such a hurry, runners are a rare breed)

When you get to mile ten there are these traditional Asian drummers playing this impending doom song as you start your trek up the hill. It was the first time I really had to reach deep and force myself to keep going 

But when I got to the top I stopped and did a happy dance and celebrated. I literally raised up my arms and screamed! I was so happy and proud.

Miles 12-14 were down hill which were almost worse, so painful (my knees still remind me of that this morning) and mile 15 takes you across this gorgeous bridge that goes over the water. It really is gorgeous. I wish I could have enjoyed it more but I had runner’s brain and sometimes its hard to see the beauty when you are forcing your body to keep functioning. 

At mile 15 I realized I had to eat. This is the point where I almost threw up. Normally I can eat and run but that wasn’t happening. I had to stop and force shot blocks and water down my throat. It was the best decision I have ever made. 

Mile 15-20 were rough, with more hills, wind and sun then I had expected. I eventually ended up chanting “one foot in front of the other” for five miles. I wasn’t the only one who was having a hard time though. One lady running with a friend started crying and said “I cannot do anther hill” I mentally agreed with but kept going.

(I am serious people, this was not an easy race, so many damn hills.) 

At mile 20 it was my turn to cry. My teammate Mindy ran out on the course to mile 20 (major no no considering it was a closed course but it was my saving grace)

I had no energy and need a serious distraction. She talked me through the next mile and a half, reminding me no one at mile 20 feels good, it was normal to feel like death and like you can’t take another step. 

She then handed me off to my coach Michelle who proceeded to sing and dance. She did her best to distract me but those damn hills got the best me and I struggled through the next mile. 

Luckily, Michelle wasn’t my last cheerleader, her husband Matt was also out on the course. Matt has this wonderful aura about him, he just exudes optimism. He got me to mile 23 and went back for other struggling teammates.

Mile 23-26.2 was incredibly grueling. The hills didn’t end until mile 26. Three miles have never felt so long. I counted my steps, lugged my body to every water station and kept going. Every time I stopped to drink water I was surprised I had the strength to start running again. 

The last .6 miles may be the happiest moments of my life. I had a shit eating grin on my face. I was slap happy. I couldn’t get over the fact that I had did it. There were moments were I actually believed I was not going to finish and I had come to terms with that, but I did finish!

I crossed the finish line in tears. They were half tears of joy and half pain. I hobbled to the finishers area where I stumbled around and tried to orient myself. 

My sister found me and started forcing food down my throat. Thank goodness. She made me eat and drink, its hard to remember to rehab your body when all you want to do is collapse. 

I hobbled all the way back to the car blissfully and then hobbled back to the hotel and sat in bed and enjoyed my runner’s high that was well deserved. 

It was the first time I have finished a marathon and didn’t say “I am never doing that again” because this marathon taught me how strong I really am and that I can push through any adversity. 

My sister put it perfectly. The last two marathons I completed I wasn’t in the healthiest place in my life and I didn’t have the support I have now. 

I am now out of that phase and in a new phase in life. This marathon marks what I have overcome and what is to come. 

A lot of people were worried I wouldn’t finished, but I did and I am going to keep surprising people with what I can accomplish! 

"Racing teaches us to challenge ourselves. It teaches us to rush beyond where we thought we could go. It helps us to find out what we are made of. This is what we do. This is what it's all about." -Pattie Sue Plumer

I Am An Addict

I joined Team In Training on a whim.

Really it was a whim. I had RSVP to go to an informational meeting and didn't really know if I would go.

I actually went because at the time I was fighting with my boyfriend, I was hung over and I kind of hated life that day.

So I figured why not...

When I heard Big Sur was a option to race in I was immediately hooked. I mean its Big Sur, any long distance runner knows the glory of Big Sur.

So I pledged to raise 3,500$ for The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society and signed up for Big Sur.

Fast forward to the present and I have to thank my lucky stars I went to that information meeting, because not being able to run with my bad hamstring is forcing me to remember how much running has saved my life.

I was reminded of this when I read an article about Dick Beardsley.

Yeah he is the guy who raced Alberto Salazar in the famous 82' Boston Marathon but he is also a recovered drug addict.

The article mostly talked about Beardsley running career but what stood out to me was that he was a recovered drug addict.

It took me back to November 2nd, 2010.

It's not a day I really like to relive but it is burned into my memory.

The feelings of fear and anxiety come rushing back to me.

It's hard for me to find the words or the courage to write this story.

I woke up November 2nd in my bed. I didn't know how I got there. This unfortunately was not an unusual occurrence. I had become quiet use to waking up and trying to figure out where I was. I never thought of it as problem.

I had my normal head ache, my bones hurt and jaw was sore from the constant grinding of my teeth. I knew how to alleviate all this. I just had to get my ass out of bed, make some coffee, smoke a cigarette and take a bump of coke.

This was my normal morning routine.

But this morning was different. When I started looking around I realized my sheets had blood on them and I couldn't figure out where it had come from so I dragged myself to the shower to clean up and figure out where I had injured myself.

I half laughed at myself. I had just started healing from falling off a deck and my hand that I sliced open hopping over a barb wire fence finally had started to close.

But when I got in the shower I realized I had no battle wounds but the water was still running red and when I moved my hand away from my face I realized it was my nose.

Unfortunately I had also gotten use to nose bleeds, it comes with the territory of snorting drugs but this nose bleed wouldn't stop.

It just kept bleeding and then I got dizzy and started puking and the rest of the day I have no recollection of.

I had a lot of terrifying moments like this but for some reason this one scared me and I realized I had a serious problem.

I cut myself off from drugs cold turkey which was a battle all on its own and then I started running.

The first run was horrific, I took five steps and about died, but slowly I started going further and doing better.

Eventually I signed up for my first race (it was a 5k).  I shit you not, I ran it, felt like death, sat on the toilet and couldn't stop pooping (sorry runners talk a lot about poop) and broke out in hives.

But I kept running because it kept me responsible and it gave my life purpose. All I really wanted to do was say fuck it and go further down the rabbit hole but I knew staying addicted to coke was only going to ruin my life.

So I ran.

And then I decided to go back to school. I moved in with the most supportive sister a girl could ask for, I started going to therapy and Narcotics Anonymous.

And now it has been four years.

I'll be running my third marathon in 15 days with my amazing team that isn't just about running but about running for those who cannot.

I am no longer just running to save my life, but hopefully I can save other lives too.

I have a very addictive, determined, stubborn personality and I am so thankful the universe offered me a chance to use my personality in the best ways possible.

They say once an addict, always an addict and I am completely OK with being addicted to running.

"We all get addicted to something that takes away the pain" -unknown

Injuries Create Healing...(but seriously)

I was feeling passionate about writing after my first session of acupuncture ever.

And then a lovely fellow blogger let me know my writing inspired her eloquently written blog about how "everything happens for a reason"

I realized the exact same thing after,  scratch that, during my acupuncture session.

I woke up this morning and decided there was no way in hell I was going to work. My leg had kept me up all night, I was emotional, I was empty and I couldn't get my ass out of bed.

I gave myself permission for that to be OK and didn't feel guilty.

Fellow readers: THIS IS A BIG DEAL. I have a hell of a guilty conscious when it comes to missing work, or anything that I am suppose to be doing.

I didn't feel even a little bit guilty, I felt relieved.

HALLEJUAH!

So my day started out well, I iced my leg, worked on some very overdue projects, and cared for me.

And then I went to acupuncture...

It started out normally. I had the normal questions of injury but then the doctor asked me some obscure questions such as:

What do you dream about?
Do you have an appetite?
What do you crave: cold or hot?
Are you normally warm or cool?
Do you have a racing heart?
Do you sweat a lot?
How is your sleep/how often do you wake during the night?
How are your bowel movements?

The strange questions proceeded this way.

I proceeded to say something along the lines of "I am a basket of issues" and the doctor looked at me and said:

"Oh no, all these ailments are interlinked"

In my mind I thought "you have got to be shitting me"
But I was excited that maybe, just maybe, I could be healed.

The doctor explained my crazy, awful dreams, my insomnia, my lack of appetite, my daily anxiety, irritability and general angry overtone were all essentially linked with how my spleen and liver are functioning, or I guess I should say are not functioning.

And a major side-effects of all this are muscles tearing in the body.

BAM!

So I got all excited even before the acupuncture started I was feeling better, because maybe I don't have to feel so awful all the time. That would be considered winning in my books.

So he put the needles in. They were all over, my feet, calfs, knees, hamstrings, ribs, hands, arms and face.

I had explained earlier that I was working on meditating and the doctor told me to meditate on how the needles were making me feel.

I feel so cliché saying this but it was a very out of body experience. Somehow I could think about a lot of my life circumstances without become disabled by emotion.

Once I finished and left I felt a strangely calm and happy and then I read the blog about "everything happening for a reason".

And I have to agree.

I am injured, I got some shit on my plate, but thats OK because it is teaching me and opening me up to new experiences.

Without being injured I would of never tried acupuncture.
Without being injured I would never written my blog that inspired a fellow blogger to write.

The universe, it is an amazing thing especially when you are able to have a positive aura and live in the goodness and see the beauty, even through the bad.

(I realize this is hard, to see the good in all situations, but there is no harm in trying, but I also have to say it is OK to sit with the bad and feel the emotions through difficult situations)

We all just need a healthy balance of accepting emotions and pushing through to the positive. (Yet again, I realize how hard this is)

We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves -Buddha

Life's A Bitch

I am not really sure what life has in store for me. 

I keep trying to figure it out...

I spent the past week hiking in the Olympic Rainforest.

It was a brilliant trip but it was an emotionally tough trip. 

I have talked about how great I am as distracting myself, like I am too good at it. 

But when your up in a freaking rainforest you can't distract yourself. 

I didn't have school or work or fundraising or running. My constant stimulation of people and activities were cut off and I was left with myself. 

It is amazing when you actually slow down how much you find in yourself, the good and the bad.

And then when I came home I got an email from the Peace Corps. 

I have been planning on joining the Peace Corps as my next step after graduation. The email said something along the lines of:

"You have been placed in Thailand, you will officially know if you are accepted into the program in September and you would leave January 2016"

For some reason this threw me off my rocker because damn it, I want to leave as soon as I graduate. I want to keep going. I can't be stagnant. I must keep going a thousand miles per hour because slowing down hurts too damn much.

I overcame my meltdown and pulled myself together. I did what I always do and over planned, kept going, looked into options and started putting more plans in place.

I am this constant planner, obsessively in need for control. 

Well life is a funny bitch and she is making me slow down.

I went on a 13 mile run today. It was a great run - long story short I ended up locking myself out of my car and so I laid in the sun until I got a spare key. 

But when I stood up and tried to walk my right leg was stiff and refused to bend. It shot shooting pain through my whole body.  I shrugged it off and figured it was nothing, but the pain didn't go away. Not after my bath, not after stretching, it just got continually worse. When I finally sat down and iced it I realized how bad my pain was. 

The verdict: Grade 2 hamstring strain. 

AKA no running, limited activity, light yoga at the most, I can swim but it isn't the same as running. 

My biggest escape from reality has been taken away from me. 

Life sometimes you are cruel. 

My mom even said "I have to be around when your luck changes, it is going to be epic" 

And she is right, my luck has to turn around but for now I somehow have to find the positive of having an out of commission leg. 

I get life is making me slow down but damn it sucks. 

Where is the silver lining?

We all want to do something to mitigate the pain of loss or to turn grief into something positive, to find a silver lining in the clouds. But I believe there is real value in just standing there, being still, being sad. -John Green

Learning to Feel

I found out some news tonight that I really wasn't ready to hear.

I don't really think I would of ever been ready to hear it, but I knew at some point I would.

It crushed me, but I wanted to pretend it didn't.

I pretended it didn't when I found out.

I let the news settle on me and I kept functioning, kept trying to live in the moment, be present and not let it ruin the evening.

I tried, and when I was driving home I tried to not let it eat at me.

And when I got home I tried to not let it keep me up and then I realized this is it. The moment of living in the moment vs. the big life picture.

These little points in life where I can either ball up and deal with the pain or go on hiding and dodging from it.

So here is what I did.

I got ready for bed. I brushed my teeth, washed my face and got into bed.

I set a timer for five minutes. I crawled into bed, wrapped myself in blankets, grabbed a pillow turned off the lights and hit start on my timer.

I sat for five minutes with my emotions.

At first I felt nothing, I have perfected the art of feeling nothing. It is my armor when life gets tough.

And then I started feeling anxious and uncomfortable and wanted my time to be done.

Then all of the sudden I let myself relax and let myself feel. I sat and sobbed. It didn't feel good, it didn't feel cathartic but at least it is coming out and not staying bottled in me and eating away at me every minute of every day.

Life hurts. Making yourself sit down and feel true, heartbreaking emotions hurts.

I want to be strong and not feel pain. I do not want to let other people crush me, but to live is to be in relationships with others.

People are not perfect, they will hurt you and we will hurt them, not intentionally, but it happens.

So maybe instead my definition of being strong doesn't have to mean not feeling pain, instead being strong can be feeling pain, owning my pain and my hardship, the daily life struggles.

Being open and honest, vulnerable some might say.

I know this won't happen over night, but it starts with baby steps, like setting a timer for five minutes and letting yourself feel. It doesn't seem so scary when you know there is an out.

I think it really helps to then read or watch something funny. Personally I am a fan of "Best of Funny Talking Animals" on Youtube -- but really watch it if your easily entertained.

Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your life's search for love and wisdom. -Rumi

The Brain Game

Being a long distance runner is like this weird head game you play with yourself.

A looooong time ago when I first got into long distance running an old coach told me "you can train your muscles all you want but the most important thing is to train your brain". 

Yada, yada, yada, that makes sense but I didn't really think much of it. 

But it is freaky true. 

I ran twenty miles yesterday and I thought consciously about the brain game I play with myself. 

Let me explain my thoughts over my twenty mile run:

Mile 1 & 2: "Shit I am sore, my legs feel like they weigh 200lbs, why the hell am I out here and why I am a running so slow. Mmmm I think I need to pee, or is this just the nervous I need to pee feeling?"

Mile 3-7: "Oh fine, this isn't so bad. My legs feel normal, just had to get loosened up. I got this as long as keep my times around 8:20's. I am pretty sure I don't have to pee." 

Mile 7-10: "WEEEE, look at me!!! I am running and I am happy, I am running and I happy, la la la, nobody can stop me" 

Mile 10-12: "Shit I still have ten miles to go, what the hell! This is going to take forever and I think I'm starting to feel tired. Wait, what pace am I running at? Oh no running sub 8:00's, slow down speed racer or your going to die at the end" 

Mile 13: "Hey I just ran a half marathon boo ya, but shoot I still have to run seven more miles...hmmm I think I need to eat something except my black cherry flavored shot blocks taste like ass, why didn't I buy the strawberry? I will have to resort to my ginger chews" 

Mile 14-16: "Must keep brain occupied so I don't think about how tired my legs are feelings. I think I need to fart. I should just try and fart cause if I keep it in I know I will have a tummy ache. Maybe a loud car will drive by and I can fart and no one will hear...I hope it is a fart" 

Mile 17-18: "Ok, this can be done now. I hate life, I hate running, I am tired. How the hell do I run marathons, why do I run them? Ouch, ouch, ouch, I think I have blood in my sock. Gross" 

Mile 18-20: "Ahh I think I am finally hitting my second wind, or maybe I just know that it is almost over. I shall run very quickly to the end so I can be done. Wait, what should I do when I am done. What will I eat? I love eating. Food, I want food." 

End of run: "I did it, I did it, whoop! I feel way too good for having run twenty miles, must do happy dance but my legs are too sore." 

It is like a mini-life when you run long distances and push your body past its normal capacity of effort. Your emotions run rampant. 

But somewhere inside me I made the decision that no matter what I will always keep running, aways keep pushing my body to the limit to succeeded no matter what my brain is telling me. I have become an expert at telling my brain to shut up. 

But running is just one aspect of my life. One aspect that I have full control over. I can either live a lifestyle that pushes me forward and makes my body more efficient at running or I can live a lifestyle that negates my hard work. 

It is sometimes hard finding this balance. I literally eat, drink and sleep for my running, especially right now in marathon season. 

Sometimes I don't always put my running first but I find when I do not put my running first, I am not putting my best interest first. 

Which is so strange to me because I know what will make me the best runner I can be and yet I don't do it.

I know what is best for me in most realms of my life and yet most times I don't do it.

It goes back to instant gratification. It is addicting. I am addicted to instant gratification, so how do I break the addiction?

How do I look into the future and work for future rewards while living in the present? 

I want to live life in the moment, but I also want to live my life for bigger and better things. 

Life in the moments vs. life's big picture, can they coincide, live together in harmony?  Can I make living in the moment be productive for my life in the future?

Can I train my brain to be able to push past moments of hardship and keep going? Can I play the brain game in my daily life? Can I push myself to succeed and never stop?

I have no idea, it is my new mission to find out. For the next few weeks I will be seeing how instant gratification, living in the moment and living for life's big picture mesh in my life and if I can make them a harmonious team. 

(and yes, of course I will blog about them!)

"Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment" -Buddha 

Perfectionism...as Unnatural as Spam

Perfectionism.

It is what society tells us to strive for. 

Be smarter, be richer, be skinner. 

Do more, be more. 

Hey guess what society? You make me freaking exhausted. 

And you know what else?

Society is a conundrum, that is what I have decided.

Society asks us to be better, to morph ourselves into these perfect beings and yet it does not give us the grace to learn. 

I am obsessed with listening to podcasts on my runs right now. I mean does it get any better, it is a body and mind workout. I think that is called winning!

But that is beside the point, the point is I listened to a podcast that interviewed Parker Palmer and Courtney Martin, two incredible people who came together to talk about sustainable. social change. 

Two quotes stood out to me.

One by Parker Palmer: 
 “We're whiplashed between the arrogant over-estimation of ourselves, and a servile under-estimation of ourselves.”

The other by Courtney Martin: 
"We live in a culture that does not give us a lot of models of what it looks like to learn in public". 

And then I was reading a Daring Greatly by the infamous Brene Brown in which she said:
"Shame-resilient cultures nurture folks who are much more open to soliciting, accepting and incorporating feedback...these cultures also further engaged, tenacious people who expect to have to try and try again to get it right -- people who are much more willing to get innovative and creative in their efforts" 

Sometimes I feel like the universe is talking to me...today is told me that I need to stop trying to be perfect.

It told me that I will find my best self when I start being my real self, flaws and all. 

Like Parker said, there are certain things I love about myself. I love my ability to run vast distances rather quickly, I love that I am book smart and can hold a 4.0 GPA, I love that my ability to wake up and make myself do anything I put my mind too

but on the other hand I hate my self doubt, I hate that I cannot shake the feeling that I will never be good enough in any sphere in my life, that I will always somehow be lacking, I hate that I feel a constant void in myself and a need to be in connection with people to heal that, I hate that I need people. 

People hurt. People are what make up the society that is harshly judgmental. People are the ones who do not allow us to learn in public.

We live in society that thrives on negative criticism. We nit-pick and find flaws in most anything, we are conditioned to find the bad over the brilliant. 

I have an honest confession to make.

I have this co-worker I have a really, really hard time working with. My coworker is constantly asking if he is doing his job right, he is constantly questioning everything he does. 

It drives me nuts. I always think "have some self-confidence and take control!" 

But then when he asks "what can I do to get better?" I think, "shoot, I should ask that question too but I don't have the confidence too"

Criticism is hard to take, I would like to be perfect so I avoid the questions that can make me better at what I do. 

So instead of being frustrated with my co-worker, maybe I am just envious of his openness and ability to be vulnerable. He knows he is not perfect and owns it. 

What if we could all own our mistakes and imperfections? What if it was acceptable to make a fool of ourselves in public and learn?

What if society didn't mock and ridicule when a person made a mistake?

We all know we are human, but why can we not accept our human emotions and actions? 

All of us failed to match out dreams of perfection. -William Faulker 

Reintroduction To The Self

My birthday was this past weekend, the big 25!

I did not expect to be where I am at, like seriously, not at all.

Life, you are so damn unpredictable and yet wonderful.

I never cease to be amazed at what life throws at me, the good and the awful.

I was in therapy today and felt like I didn't have to much to talk about, I thought I was dealing just fine with life, finally.

Wrong.

This is why I love and hate therapy. It digs up shit you never knew was going on.

My therapist said "What are we working on today?"

I said "I dunno, everything seems OK."

My therapist just starred at me. (It is like this evil silence trick that makes you ramble non-sense and then that non-sense turns into life changing epiphanies, its freaky)

So I started rambling about the idea of perceptions and how I don't always trust my perceptions and some how I ended up talking about food and my weird relationship with it.

For as long as I can remember food has always been a strange thing for me. Eating in front of people, other than my family, has always been hard for me.

I am strangely self-conscious of what I eat and in front of who.

Yes, I know I am weird. 

And then I started to realize something I never understood before.

My whole life I have been tiny, skinny. I have always been the "skinny girl". Growing up I was always the smallest one out of all my friends.

I linked this to my identity. I had no self-confidence growing up and was very shy so I rarely got noticed but I was always noticed for my tiny figure.

Being thin was my identity, it was one thing people noticed about me and I have held on to that identity.

My therapist told me it was my childish way of dealing with life's hardship. She did not mean it in a harsh way, she said we all have coping mechanisms that we bring forward from childhood.

She explained we have thousands of parts in ourselves that all are intwined, sometimes working productively together but most of the time fighting against each other.

For me, being skinny and holding on to that is one part of me. An insecure part of me that still worries about being not recognized. Still being the young girl that was too shy to show her personality and true colors.

That young girl reintroduced herself to me today and I was able to give her the attention she needed.

I may still be weird and insecure and control those insecurities through my strange eating habits but at least now I can pinpoint where it manifests from and start to address that.

I can start to address my insecurities and embrace them.

I am starting to learn more and more about myself as I start to introduce myself to the many parts I have thriving inside me.

I am a whole person, but the only thing that makes me whole are the millions of little pieces that are intertwined.

I am working to learn how to make those pieces work together instead of against each other and love just how strangely unique I am.

I suggest everyone tries introducing themselves to those unknown parts of themselves that makes them tick, it is truly an experience that should not be missed.

I thought meeting strangers was hard, but reintroducing yourself to your past selfs is far more challenging and far more rewarding.

There is nothing noble about being superior to some other man. The true nobility is in being superior to your pervious self. -Hindu Proverb

Practicing Life

I went to yoga on Saturday, and let me tell you I am not the best yogi out there.

My balance is shaky and I am far from having the perfect form in any of the positions but damn it I am going to be a yogi.

I enjoy yoga, it is calming, it grounds me and lets me concentrate and connect with my body so I am working on being OK with looking like a fool while I am at yoga.

We even did the firefly pose (technical term: Tittibhasana) this is where you wrap your legs around your arms and hold yourself up, it is mostly shoulder strength.

First off, I am a runner.

Second off, that means I lack shoulder strength.

So I totally toppled on my ass (I am proud to say that I got it eventually and held it for like five seconds, boo yah!)

But I wasn't the only one who toppled on their ass, and the teacher of class said this...

"It's called yoga practice, because we are constantly practicing and bettering ourselves at yoga"

I was thinking about this statement this morning as I struggled through the morning.

I was having a tough morning, I confined in one of my friends that I was struggling with my faith and he asked me what I was struggling with...

I told him "everything right now. Honestly I just feel a little lost even in myself. I feel like I cannot connect to myself, to God, to anyone. Like I am in this bubble just watching".

He told me he thought it wasn't my faith I was struggling with but my trust.

Bingo!

(I have very intelligent friends, I am truly blessed. )

I am struggling with trusting anyone, even myself. I trusted so much and got hurt.

Essentially I toppled on my ass, just like in yoga.

But in yoga I was determined to try to it again, to get it right. It all takes practice.

I am realizing that its just like in life, it takes practice. I fell down and now I have to get back up and try again.

A need to try a new form, work on my strength and stay determined. My new way of looking at life is "life practice".

It's called life practice because we are constantly practicing and bettering ourselves in our own lives.

I know I'll keep falling, but I have to keep trying.

Ever tired. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fall again. Fall better. -Samuel Beckett

Flying with Broken Wings

I would like to say these past 31 days of blogging has changed me, opened me up by being able to write about my life, my feelings, my journey, but in all honestly I am realizing this is just the beginning.

Some days are really amazing and others are truly agonizing.

31 days ago I decided to start blogging. I was laying in bed, truly over life and feeling defeated. New Year's Eve had been a bust, my car had gotten broken into, my bank accounts had been empty, and I missed Jordan, I missed the stability and constant idea of always having someone. The idea that no matter what I had someone that would tell me "I love you".

Fast forward 31 days to right now and I am sitting at my kitchen table. My car window is fixed, my bank account is secure, but there is still a void in my heart that will never replace Jordan. I still miss the stability, the idea of never being alone, I miss waking up and going to bed every night hearing "I love you".

I have no idea where my life is going to take me, and right now I cannot see much past tomorrow, the most pointless things seem so looming when you are readjusting to life on your own.

Honestly the things I am working towards are my marathon and my graduation. From there I believe life will open up. I can do anything once I graduate. I literally have nothing holding me down. I will be completely unattached.

I mean I have my family here, but I know they will always be here for me. They are my rock and they are more then supportive to watch me spread my wings and fly.

And I plan to soar.

Which is terrifying and exciting.

I am working on crawling out of my comfort zone and being vulnerable with life. I don't really know what that looks like but for now I am just going to try it...

Because I have nothing to lose, which is the most awful, wonderful thing to realize.

To be vulnerable with life is to:

love unconditionally and not know if you are going to receive love back.

try something new every day and ask questions that people might think you are crazy or stupid for asking.

to cry when you need to, even if it is at the exactly wrong moment.

to ask for help, even if it is from a stranger.

to admit defeat and failure and embrace success.

to compliment yourself on your achievements and talk well about yourself, even if people think you are just being arrogant.

to say good-bye and not know if there will ever be a new hello.

I have said my good-byes, I have felt defeat, I have definitely cried at the wrong times but now I must work on the positives.

I need to learn to love unconditionally, to ask questions and ask for help, to embrace my success and learn to compliment myself on how fucking amazing I am.

I am Rosemary Serena Bishop and today is the last day of my blogging challenge but only the tip of what I am about to discover...(don't worry I'll keep blogging about my discoveries)

On my back I have tattoo that I feel is fitting for my final quote for my 31 days of blogging...

You can fly with broken wings.