letting go

sometime around late march will mark the two year marker for my little blog.

(the sky the other night. spring is so lovely)

calling it a blog sounds too negative in the way self-indlgent is. my journal. my space for practicing honesty. my corner on the tangled streets of the internet to connect with soul neighbors. those sound like better descriptions.

i started writing a few months into the crazy (on a different blog). the voice sounds constrained, strained. kind of like a little girl trying to fit in.

the voice grew as i grew. evolved in tone, in intensity, mirrored whatever state of being i occupied whilst typing. still, i felt much like a little girl trying to fit in, trying to sew budding consciousness onto the patchwork of the self-love quilt. it never quite stitched in right.

and, as i approach my two year time chip, a solitary thought address me. repeatedly.

i am ready to let go of this blog.

i keep stumbling into rambling valleys of self-discovery and i find i don’t want to share. i want to reflect on experiences, know what they mean to me, before sharing. i am enjoying the solo journey through the ever changing forrest of colors, thoughts, and moods. i am questioning myself, my beliefs. and, in the process, i am releasing.

every day i shed past ways of thinking, acting, and believing that only served to hurt me. writing here is like writing continually of the past, of things i no longer feel so connected to. my eating disorder, my depression, are not my life anymore. they are parts of my life. i can’t keep my focus on them like they matter more than anything else.

additionally, the more i step away from the blog-o-sphere, the happier i am. kind of like how i feel about facebook (i don’t have one). i more organically experience life and its lessons when i am not reading the opinions of others. not sitting in front of a screen for hours some how feels better, too.

so, for now i am disconnecting. it’s the best choice, the one my heart keeps asking of me to make. there are new avenues to be explored. life can’t be directed at a computer screen for me anymore. my passions lie elsewhere. please feel free to e-mail me. i will always offer an open ear.

thank you so much for following me on this crazy, messy, lovely trip. thank you for listening, sharing, and connecting. you’re wonderful, lovebugs. truly.

much, much love.

namaste

zoe

music monday + an announcement

music:

friend loaded this onto my computer a few weeks back. cannotcannotcannot stop listening. i love anything sufjan stevens. so, obviously, i lovelovelove this. in the car, on walks, writing, dancing. any time. it’s lovely.

announcement:

i was waiting for the appropriate time to share this and, well, the time feels right.

a month from today i will be in germany, starting a two and a half month long travel journey.

though i will spend roughly the first 10 days with my dad, we will leave each other in london on april 21st, at which point i will embark on a solo trip. I AM FUCKING STOKED. traveling abroad is a childhood dream, one i’ve been saving for since i starting collecting birthday money before i hit the double digits in age. i am going everywhere i can. every where my bank account can take me. my rough plan puts starts me in england, leads me to ireland, to spain, to southern france, to italy, to switzerland, possibly up through germany again, to belgium, and back to paris, france where i fly out of.

one more time: I AM SO FUCKING STOKED.

for a really long time i thought and believed i needed to travel with another person. for safety purposes, for loneliness purposes, for but i encountered a few problems with that plan. i met two types of people: ones with money but with no balls, and ones with balls but no money. no one ever seemed able to travel with me. i got tired of waiting, of sitting on my steadily growing unrest.

about a month ago my dad told me about a brewery tour his company was flying him out to germany for. the restless creature inside of me perked up. and, well, that was that. i hopped on that trip, not waiting for the consent of my parents because, oh, yeah, i’m an adult and don’t need to do that anymore. i forget that sometimes. honestly, i feel lucky to not be traveling with anyone. there is a freedom in solo journeys you can’t get while traveling with others. i am bound only by my loose plans and the breeze of curiosity. i like to believe that all this time i’ve been spending alone has prepped me some for the quiet days i will face.

am i terrified? yes.
am i excited? fuck yes.

i anticipate learning a lot. i anticipate a few tense moments. mostly though, i anticipate not coming back the same person. that’s all i can really ask for.

i am telling you all this because i am not bringing my computer. i doubt i will blog much, if at all. this trip isn’t about sitting in front of a screen. it’s about exploring sleepy towns, foreign cities, and the depths of my self. it’s about expanding and learning. it’s about fulfilling my 2012 intentions: doing things that scare me the most.

please share any traveling tips, places to see, hostels to stay at. share anything. and know that yes, i know to be safe. i ask you to not scare me like everyone is trying to do.

namaste

zoe

(p.s: why are egg yolks like, so fucking good? mmm dinner.)

lighted up fridays

after a few heavy posts, i offer you something differ.

(journaling in parks makes me happy, too)

something light. like the little joys.

HAPPINESS:

1) reading poetry on street corners in san francisco to strangers. screaming it to the full moon night sky. realizing strangers are listening, affirming, applauding. genuinely.

2) words. i am painting the world in letters. after nearly two years absent, my creativity is back. powerfully so.

3) singing. i am no etta james (sigh) and no adele (double sigh) but the vocal chords i do have are not bad. friends and family tell me all the time i sing well. and, well, i am starting to believe. i’m starting to understand the concept of personal range and tone. plus, singing helps with throat chakra opening

4) skirts. i am officially over pants. skirts offer a mobility pants do not. and a certain femininity i am unearthing, rejoicing in.

5) coconut oil in my coffee (insomnia calls for coffee sometimes, unfortunately). coconut oil, in general.

6) the weather. spring sprung early. sometime mid-february. it may speak to global warming but. i am enjoying the sun and its shine thoroughly.

what’s making you happy these days?

namaste

zoe

a story about silence

i remember the television blaring on all days of my childhood.

(source)
i remember the radio announcer speaking to my mom as she primped and primed herself for the day.

i remember music in my ears on the bus, as i did homework, while i read.

i remember words without meaning pouring into gaps in conversation.

i remember anything to cover up the silence.

the absence of noise woke the fear in my mind. the fear unfolded stories about ghosts in every creak of my wooden home, about loneliness amplified, about unwanted thoughts staging an attack. noise blanketed the drop offs into the unknown so that i never quite dropped. much like the characters in kurt vonnegut’s short story “welcome to the monkey house”, sound severed my thoughts from growing. i remained distracted, anxious for the next silent moment.

i went to a jesuit high school, one that required its students to attend retreats with religious tones. as a girl opposed to religion and anything remotely religious, i entered retreats a fairly closed-minded skeptic. especially my senior year, the longest of the retreats. for four days a random chunk of my senior class and i embarked on this journey. which, along with talk of jesus, spirituality, and life-in-general, included meals. eaten in silence.

imagine.

dining tables lined with seventeen and eighteen year old kids wiggling in discomfort with eyes focused solely on food, with minds shrieking WHAT THE FUCK. ears catch the only sounds to be caught: cutlery against plates, food against teeth.

no one knew how to navigate the soundscape of silence.

i struggled to understand the purpose. what did silence at the dinner table do for me? what purpose did swallowing my food and my words serve? i wanted to talk to my friends. to laugh. to compare notes. but retreat leaders kept our vocal chords at rest.

i graduated high school in 2007. yet, it is now, in 2012, that i understand the beauty in silence.

silence removes distraction, allows for intentions to become clear, for thoughts to manifest fully instead of getting lost in music notes or t.v banter. thoughts become a lot less scary when you hear them out. loneliness somehow melts away, too. you hear your heart in the quiet. you see yourself as alive, as connected. not alone. never alone.

a space without excess noise brings me a sense of calm, too. though it used to bring me anxiety (and sometimes still does, especially in conversation). i feel much more relaxed here, sitting on the couch writing, listening only to the wind talk with the birds and the house clock tick in the dining room. i am comfortable. not anxious. not scared.

there is a reason i find solace in the mountains.
there is a reason i will settle down on a hillside some day when i’m grown up.

like any other habit, adjusting to silence takes time. you cannot understand the importance of silence in a day. it took me about five years to scratch the surface and i am still exploring. be curious anyway, even if you’re impatient (like me). practice at living in silence. explore its depths. see what happens.

i think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at what you uncover.

namaste

zoe

clean house, clean heart

i woke up writing poetry i forget now.

(a tree without leaves the other day on a walk)

a song rooted down into my conscious after the words disappeared with the morning fog.

limbs ached to express, to twirl.

(of course i obliged.)

i want to say i am proud of myself but that doesn’t sound right.

blissfully astonished does.

yes.

because i keep waking up.

every day.

i keep recommitting.

keep
breathing
reaching
expanding
shedding.

after dancing, after breakfast at noon, i confronted my closet.

threw away piles of clothing holding
the old me,
suffocating the present me
by living in trash bags just out of reach.

now i have two pairs of pants. three if you count my tie dye ones.

which i do.

anyway…

i’ve got a mountain to explore! it’s sunshiney outside and i’ve got little tolerance for sitting inside when it’s so beautiful out there!

namaste

zoe

funny moments in afternoons alone

i wrote this whole other serious post earlier.

(san francisco last week. pretty, pretty)

i suck at conclusions (whole other tangent) so, i took a break before writing it.

and took the opportunity of having an empty house with really awesome acoustics to belt it etta-james style.

you know the kind. sometimes equipped with dance moves.

yeah.

(yeah?)

eventually you laugh at yourself. (if you’re me).

because it’s funny to go from deeply frustrated to deeply light in like…an hour.

mostly though, it’s funnier you still pretend to sing to an audience.

even though the audience is your refrigerator and kitchen table.

namaste

zoe

music monday + monday lessons

mmm monday.

(san francisco on saturday on random street walks with my friend)

a light breeze, fat clouds, sunshine kind of monday.

i woke up intending to work out the whole day because i ate cake last night and militant, dictator zoe ordered it to be done. under strict authority, i laced up tennis shoes after i slipped out of my sheets and dreamy early morning haze. i skipped breakfast too for good measure. funny how plans figure their way out, though.

because the television spazzed out. and my brother came home sick from school. and my stomach grumbled loudly. and i picked up a pen and undid my tennis shoes. and i wrote into my journal. and i realized: “i still think my weight matters in the measure of happiness. so i still chase it as being the problem of all my problems” (journal quotes). silly anxious and negative self. it’s just cake, not the devil. calm yourself.

so i ate some breakfast, ate some more cake, laced up my tennis shoes, and took the walk i actually wanted. i listened to two pod-casts, did some yoga in the park under the sun, felt the grass beneath my feet. three or so hours later i am home, rested and happy and not thinking about that cake from last night or the cake from earlier. just how awesome my legs feel and how settled my heart is in my chest.

and how awesome this song is.

because i am in love with bon iver.

and mondays, for that matter.

namaste

zoe

(p.s: please don’t steal my photos. thanks!)

thoughts from long walks

i am currently waiting on cookies in the oven and kale chips in the dehydrator.

(on a walk the other day in sonoma county with a close friend)

a good metaphor for my life, don’t you think?

i’ve got no big message today. no deep, thought out words.

nothing is A-FUCKING-MAZING. and nothing is particularly soul crushing. i am merely existing today, enjoying the seventy-eight degree sun rays and the smells of my kitchen. i am reveling, simply.

last night i preformed poetry again. words direct from my heart. unlike last week, i showed up with a louder voice and more nerves. i stumbled a bit though i spent hours and hours burning the lines into my memory, talking to an empty house, the bay, passing cars and, finally, a circle of strangers. practice doesn’t always mean perfect. nothing means perfect because perfect doesn’t exist.

a funny thing happened when i finished and reclaimed my seat: nothing attacked me inside. yes, i shook and tripped over a few lines but that negative voice stayed locked inside. in fact, i heard nothing. just felt a sense of release and empowerment i am still trying to wrap my mind around. just thought, “i did it” quietly while the words of others filled the balmy san francisco evening.

i took a walk with my self and my headphones this morning. drank a decaf americano. danced the whole way home. thought and rethought those hopes i scribbled for the new-year.

i’ve spent a lot of time since we jumped into 2012 thinking i was a big fat failure. thinking i was doing nothing right, making no progress, only sliding, minute by minute, backward to a place i never wanted to see again.

today changed that.

as cars drove past me and sunshine soaked into my bare arms i understood: i am progressing. i never wasn’t.

i am opening my heart to the world, to people, to myself. i am shedding warped ideas of self and happiness. i am gaining a sense of peace and an understanding of life i never thought i would.

perfection has no place in my life anymore. i am reclaiming the person i used to be. the person i always was.

bumps and all.

namaste

zoe

music monday

music makes monday so much better.

(source)
or, really, any day better.

before the music though, an astrology announcement:

(because i nerd out over shit the stars tell us)

we transitioned into pisces today so the mood’s all dreamy and spiritual and light and dark all at the same time. i feel happy, calm, motivated, and creative right now. the spiritual energy we wade through under pisces’ influence can be difficult to manage. advice: go with the flow.

if you’re interested at all, i highly recommend checking out here and here. they’ll explain it all a bit better than me, i think!

okay.

nerd session over.

music:

feist! honestly, i generally have to be a feist mood to listen to her…but not with this song! i could listen to this all day. every day.

and, because it’s monday and because monday can have to potential to be lame, here’s a remix of the above song by another guy i love. boyz noize is just one dude from germany and he fucking kills it. i heard this version of my moon, my man first, actually! (warning: this one may not be for everyone. heh…)

may the start of your monday be all kiiiiinds of musical!

namaste

zoe

self-love sunday

i don’t even know where to start today.

a lot happened this week. words, however, are not lending themselves to me, rendering me a writer without expression. i’m just a big ball of feeling.

i am learning to trust my feelings, to question my thoughts. to listen to the whispers of the heart, not the analytical murmurings of a brain. i forget i live in my heart, too.

today, on two feet with arms stretched to the sky, i am open to the world and the universe and abundance. last night, a momentary ‘pop’ released pain in my left shoulder. pain i’ve carried for months. the night before i went to a restorative yoga class and cried. i am releasing.

i am creating space.

i am opening.

i keep thinking, “i don’t know what ought to be.”

over and over.

among other things.

(found in jan spiller’s book cosmic love…or astrology for the soul, i can’t remember. i stumbled across this the other day in a bookstore. i sat there and read for an hour).

love inflates the emptiness felt feelings leave behind.

i breathe deeper. fuller.

there is still salt in the sea water of my life. still waves i navigate. but i am buoyed to a warm, steady happiness.

i am learning how to float.

what are you learning?

namaste

zoe

(p.s: thanks for the comments on the last post. you’re all so supportive and awesome. thankyouthankyouthankyou. i have a lot more to say about voice and speaking and discovering. soon enough!)