Letting go.

 

Just when I think that maybe I need to reevaluate various components of my life, things fall into place. It's no secret that when you relinquish control, whether to a greater power or to the universe, things tend to go more smoothly.

It seems to be human nature to attempt to control both the large and the small aspects of your life. I am very guilty of an "I can do this on my own, now leave me alone" attitude. I have been lucky enough to experience a life that allowed for this idealism. I believed that with the right recipe of positivity, hard work, and self-confidence, all my goals and aspirations were possible. I believed I could live the exact life I imagine for myself.

This is not to say that those traits are to be abandoned, but what I do need to say, to myself and to you I suppose, is that no amount of self-perfecting, healthy living or positive thinking can replace the freedom that comes from admitting and reveling in the fact that we are not in control. At the end of the day - the world spins on without our help and certainly without our plans.

I'll continue to do my part, but I will also be mindful of my own limitations.

I find prayer and meditation helpful. I don't sit cross-legged and contemplate the universe, but I run, I try yoga, I bike, I nap, I walk my dog on the beach and I take a bath. That's how I commune with myself and the great big universe.

This year - I encourage you to let go. Even just a little. Lift it up to whatever your "bigger" being or thing is. Try letting go.

Reading. Fail.

   

You know that feeling when you look at your nightstand and realize you have three books you are trying to read... and you are not succeeding with any of them?

For me it's a big hard cover Kingsolver novel, a small book of wisdom from a Buddhist monk, and a twisting-turning Kindle novel by Zadie Smith.

I feel this sense of guilt whenever I go to grab something to read on the nightstand. The guilt does not pressure me into attempts at bettering my mind with the written word, but instead encourages me to accelerate my brain death with instagram stalking on my iphone.

What is a 25 year old with a slowly dissolving mind to do?

New Year's goals for a new year...

Today, I look back on the past year and find myself repeating the same thing to myself again and again -

"You made it. You made it through 2012."

2012 was comprised of a variety of good, wonderful, ugly, painful and monumental changes. Change is rarely easy and almost always difficult.

Moving away from a place that felt more like home than home does.
Beginning a life with someone else and learning to share.
Redefining my family and navigating those choppy waters.
Stumbling into a brand new work environment and accepting that things weren't seamless with rainbows and sunshine.
Making new friends and visiting old ones.

2013 is nothing but possibility on this foggy-brained Tuesday morning back at work. There is no telling what the new year will bring but I have resolved to welcome it. I am committing myself to making ugly days beautiful to the best of my ability and finding peace in uncertainty.

Wish me luck.

Uncertainty

Planning for a future by yourself is difficult.

Planning for a future with your person is daunting.

Planning for a future with any other players is downright impossible. 

The past months of learning to live with another person, starting a new career, moving to a new state and trying to decide where I'm headed from here has been exciting and terrifying. Mostly terrifying at times. 

One of my "persons" encouraged me to read a book discussing the process of learning to live with uncertainty. The book is written by a Buddhist nun. If there is one person I am certain I could never meet up with on the uncertainty train, it's a nun. 

I am the antithesis of a nun. When I think of a nun, I think of someone selfless, content, calm and devoted to study as well as prayer. I can hardly hold still long enough to make a decision about what I'll eat next. Prayer is me talking to the big-greater-being on my way to work and in bed most mornings. And the conversation that happens in my bed could be argued to be nothing more than procrastination. Waking up and getting moving has become exponentially more difficult as a result of daylight savings. 

What I'm trying to say is this: I am certain that I am entirely uncomfortable with the idea of uncertainty. But Anne tells me that "certainty is missing the point entirely."

Anne Lamott is like a nun. She's like a nun with dreads. A nun who prays with cuss words. Maybe I could meet up with that kind of nun.

I think I need to buy her most recent book. I could three essential prayers, Help, Thanks and Wow. 

Real people get married too.

I thought I really understood weddings. I thought, considering my parents are ministers, that I had seen it all. I thought I had heard every mini-sermon, sang every hymn and read every scripture. But despite my many and varied experiences, I wasn't ready for what this wedding would be.

You know those people that seem to just orbit each other in a way that could never be interrupted? That's Chelsie and Jerrett. They revolve around the same sun. They know who each other are and they celebrate their differences. They bicker and they tease each other. They're a real couple.

I think the bride even admitted to calling her soon-to-be-groom a not very nice name the night of their rehearsal. In true Chelsie and Jerrett fashion I saw her shuffle over to apologize before we practiced their impending wedding. I saw her redistribute her weight and awkwardly stare at the ground while she considered how to try and take back calling her fiance a dick (when he's more like a saint).

Because real people that are really in love fight. And they apologize. And they get married.

It was a perfect wedding. It was a perfect day. It was perfect because no body involved was perfect - and they knew it.

Below is proof of everything stated above. You can't make this stuff up.

Friday - I almost didn't make it...

I made it.

Not only did I make it to another Friday - but I made it through my first spin class!

Last night I did a spin class for the first time, and let me tell you: I've run 12 miles and felt more confident that my heart would keep beating.

Who are these people who teach spin? My instructor weighed maybe a buck-oh-five tops and never lost her breath during those 45 minutes of insanity. I would think the strain on her boney little butt would at least lead to a gasp every now and then.

Up - down - up - lean over the bike - down again.

I have plenty of cushion and that was a bit much for MY rear end.

The house music was a nice touch. It's what I imagine a club in Eastern Europe would be like. A club full of stationary bikes. With a waif-like-hummingbird shouting commands at you.

I'll be going back next week. There's no way I'm not losing some poundage taking that class.

Magazine

Everyone wants that one picture with their significant other that feels like it could be in a magazine. Wide spread reports from friends and family tell me that this one may be mine. Thank you Ms. Holly Lambert (formerly Bagzis) for snapping this without our knowledge.