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

self-love sunday

the right words to start this ramble are not at my fingertips.

(me and daises yesterday in san francisco sunshine)

this week was weird, right?

filled with heavy energy. i slept in weird cycles, experienced insomnia for the better part of the week, woke up foggy every day. an underlying sadness tinted the week.

i spent hours unloading into my journal. honest thoughts. confused thoughts. too many thoughts.

and saw my truth:
i am only honest in words, in writing.

i have so much to say to so many people. so many thoughts and feelings and conversations i want to vocalize. not necessarily pleasant ones, either. but each time i gather the strength and steadiness to open my mouth, it stays closed. those inflated words deflate, fall back to their homes in my chest, and i implode silently.

i am as emotionally developed as my seventeen-year-old self.

i’m too busy being nice, good, easy, to speak my truth, to find my voice and use it. as i explained to a friend the other day: “i am going through the teenage rebellion i never had.“

(although, ironically, i was very quick to share my opinion when i was a teenager)

or, maybe, more accurately, i am going through the quarter life crisis no one talks about. either way, i am a big ball of feelings with no outlet other than my pen and paper. everything inside me is screaming for release. i can’t be afraid of how other people react anymore. it’s not a burden i need to carry. it’s not one i want to carry. this lack of sense of self has me floating int a weird, uncomfortable, shaky place. i’m running around trying to find my self in other people.

i gotta get over this. i’m not as fragile as i keep telling myself.

this week, i’m shooting for honesty.

off the page.

namaste

zoe

(p.s: remember when i mentioned phantogram the other music monday? well, give the phantogram pandora station a listen. hot damn.)

(p.p.s: i haven’t felt like blogging at all this week.)

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

to be real

that last post felt and sounded nothing like me.

(source)

for real.

like, really, in retrospect…what?

doling out skin care advice doesn’t sound like me. it’s not what i want to write, what my heart asks me to bare.

i continuously move away from the true nature of this blog: a means for me to cope (and, i guess, technically, an open journal for the anonymous).

to be honest, this blog is more for me than for anyone else. call it self-ish, it’s okay. i don’t feel self-ish. the internet offers virtual communities. so. this is a way for me to connect and start dialogues until, eventually, i can start ones with the people in my life face to face. call it practice.

you may wonder why i chose to post so candidly. i’d hoped by now you’d have picked up on the openness of my nature. i like to talk, discuss and, occasionally just kidding like all the time, to the dismay of friends and family, over analyze. sorry. that’s in my DNA make-up, too. i have always been interested in the answers behind the questions, in investigating. i like the nitty gritty in life. the shadowy details. some people don’t.

i am here for those who do. i am here to share this journey alongside yours, to connect to other humans experiencing the experience of life and living. because you know, it’s not easy. this whole living business.

skin care just isn’t on the agenda, kids.

i can’t wish away the feelings i feel. no matter how i try to avoid them, ultimately they’ll round a street corner on some tuesday afternoon and link arms with me again. talking about them talks me through them, before, finally, talking me out of them.

i did not ask for the life i landed. something or someone somewhere put me in the ‘really, really ridiculously lucky pile‘ and threw in some baggage for good measure. no one can be ‘really, really, really ridiculously lucky’.

every person carries sadness. did i not say that earlier this month? well. it’s time i start believing it. it’s time i start allowing that sadness, that anger, that nitty gritty, to be felt instead of covering it up with a superficial, poorly concocted happiness/gratitude blend. i can’t guilt myself out of experiencing authentic emotion anymore.

i’m done apologizing for what bubbles up, for being ashamed every time i sigh.

starting.

now.

namaste

zoe

yesterday

yesterday i walked around san francisco.

all day.

in boots and orange tights.

with a very close friend.

alight with deep happiness and warm from february sunshine.

then, something funny happened. last night. something out-of-character but so in-character.

i took a deep breath.

stepped into the middle of a circle ringed by people and more people — strangers.

and, in front of all these faces i did not know, i read my poetry.

aloud.

can we talk about fears that are irrational?
can we talk about how calm my heart felt in my chest as i performed?
can we talk about evolving?
can we talk about liberation?

can we talk about how fucking great i feel?

namaste

zoe

can we talk about gifts?

so, remember when i set the intention to be more open?

(source)
to, you know, receive the abundance of my life?

(i blabbered about that, right?)

well, can we talk about a the gift the universe dumped on me today?

it was kind of fucking great.

remember when i got home from burning man and talked and talked and continued to talk about dancing? i am pretty sure in the middle of all that talk, i declared pretty passionately “i found my soul on the dance floor“?

well. i really wasn’t kidding.

’cause i recognized my soul again today on the hardwood dance floor of my kitchen.

did i ever tell you i wanted to be a ballerina when i was kid? (like almost every other five-year-old girl). but i devoted my body to soccer instead. years and years of nothing but chasing a ball. yes, i loved it. but i still loved dance, too.

(source)
i envied a childhood friend who danced ballet as long as i played soccer. she claimed she wasn’t the best, something about her feet. i always thought she was beautiful.

and free. so, so free.

did i ever tell you how much i hate reality t.v shows but how much i love, love, love so you think you can dance? and how i cry every episode? the only formal dancing i’ve ever seen was a ballet in first grade (i fell asleep) and the dancing of my childhood friend. so of course i sat for long, long weeks in front of the television, pointing always to every dancer and saying, “that’s fucking beautiful.” (because i am really graceful, too).

did i ever tell you when i was a kid i created dances with my friends and performed them for my mom? and the kids at my day care? (surprisingly, i had a lot of friends).

did i ever tell you how i believe in past lives (more on that another time)? i do. and i was definitely a dancer a one point. i feel that down to my bones. (why else would my knees hyper extend and why else can i balance so well and make nice lines? useless talents?)

so, no wonder i envy dancers. dancers are artists who create with their bodies. there are stories in those moves. colors. images. i wanted that.

(source)
last summer i reconnected with the dancer in me again. we rejoiced in an open desert. then, she left.

and came back today. we visited, fell in love all over again. she whispered to me, “just move”. for one, solid song i thought nothing. not a single fucking thought. i just moved. but even that’s not quite right. something moved me.

kind of how something spills words into my conscious and asks for a transcriber. something about writing in a fluid trance isn’t just me. there’s something working through me to paint the world in words. something worked through me today in the kitchen. i opened up and received liberation. and when i came to, wheezing with exertion, i cried.

rain clouds spilled. from the couch i watched rain drop through sun rays. ever the scientific genius, i smiled and said, “i bet there’s a rainbow outside!” and promptly ran/tumbled/walked to the window. to see a streak of rainbow, bright above the hill.

then i cried a little bit more.

(because i am cheesy and think everything has meaning).

how do YOU see your soul?

namaste

zoe

(p.s: i wrote this yesterday)

(p.p.s: the best, best, best part? usually after any dancing i walk around with a sore, inflamed low back. yesterday (and today!) not only do i feel no pain, but i feel strength!)

(p.p.p.s: happy valentine day. to be honest, i am not a fan. for various reasons (maybe i’ll discuss this tomorrow?) but mainly because i believe in loving every day. regardless, have a beautiful, love-filled, chocolate-and-rose-fueled day!)

self-love sunday: vulnerability

i am introspective by nature.

(source)
(warning: rambling ahead.)

every day i sort through thoughts, sift through the clutter i hoard up there. sometimes, the things i manage to wiggle free strike a nerve. they’ll sink into my conscious and refuse to budge until i methodically mull over them. the other day, a heavy thought dropped itself into view.

i am, nearly every day, working towards alleviating the acidic burn left by my issues. i am working on awareness, mindfulness, patience, and forgiveness. i am working on remembering life is a conscious practice. yet, occasionally, i fumble over a more difficult discovery in my mind. the negative voice creeps in, quickly, often quietly, and always relentlessly.

the other day it occurred to me how immature i feel in regards to relationships. i know how to like some one. i know how to attract some one. however, the moment friendly flirtations take a more serious turn, i clam up. i look for reasons to work myself out of a potentially intimate connection. i tell myself things like “they don’t really like me.”

why?

one word: vulnerability.

the potential of allowing someone to see me completely, as a person and as a body, terrifies me. i am bad at relationships, too, because i am immobilized by the potential of heartache. the potential. i refuse to see what a relationship offers (the opportunity for growth, the opportunity for sharing, the opportunity to love and be loved) and instead choose to dwell on all the negative aspects (like the possibility of someone losing interest, the possibility of someone discovering my body, the possibility of being cheated on…again).

an example (or two):

i mentioned recently someone touched the parts of me i rage against the hardest (my midsection, in its entirety). what i neglected to mention was my reaction. specifically my mental reaction. i thought, “well, he discovered my secret” (as in, he found out about my horrible bits). after that i thought, “wow, he’s still here.”

i am afraid of gaining something wonderful and losing it because i am not enough. i am afraid of jealousy, possessiveness, and negativity spurred by my insecurity. i know in order to be in a healthy, honest relationship, i need to soften, to be open to change, to positivity, to love. i know that, for a relationship to function properly, i need to be able to trust myself, to believe i am enough for someone, to believe in the beauty of my character and my beauty in general. i need to not shut down and retreat into the safety zone of loneliness i know too well.

i am so ready to grow. yet, i feel i am bad at relationships because i can’t even maintain a healthy one with myself. i wonder how i expect myself to be open to vulnerability when i am way too lightening quick to cut myself down, when i instinctively talk myself into believing the person i am attracted to won’t be attracted to me because peoples a, b, and c possess so much more than me.

the only consolation i can offer myself right now is the fact that i am aware (though, sometimes i think i am all too aware – another ramble for another day). i am mindful of my brain’s immediate instincts. i am attempting to breathe through tough thoughts spat at me by my negative self, kind of like breathing through a mind contraction of sorts: i know it will be painful to experience but i know it will pass.

the time for change is now. i feel consistently, constantly, the hand of the universe on my back, gently encouraging me forward, even while my heels dig in. old ways of thinking, being, and existing shed themselves from me daily and nightly, flutter away on the gusts of wind only change blows. with new foundations forming beneath my feet, i stand, feeling naked and half-new. i am exposed in this rebirth, raw and uncertain.

i am scared.

but i am ready.

honestly though, you’re never really prepared for anything. the time for change is always now. new beginnings start every moment. it’s just a matter of being willing to receive them. it’s a matter of surrendering to your vulnerability and realizing that, in all actuality, you will be just fine.

definitely still learning. definitely.

namaste

zoe

help, i’m alive (self-love sunday version)

i’m alive!

silent since january third but bubbling over with words the whole time. i missed the freedom of unloading onto a screen at the days end. i missed talking into space and seeing who replied. i missed sharing and communicating. i missed blogging for a second, sure, but not enough to trade the last five days for much.

basically, i spent the past five days in san francisco under an umbrella of blue sky paired with temperatures hovering somewhere in the low 60′s. i spent it surrounded by positive, loving, compassionate, passionate people. i spent it chatting over sidewalk cafe breakfasts and in kitchens cooking homemade vegan meals. i spent it laughing, loving, relaxing.

i am overwhelmingly blessed. i am overwhelmingly thankful. i am expanding and releasing and reveling, building up and breaking down. life rarely makes sense but right now, i understand its lessons a little more deeply. i feel plugged in again. ready to embrace it all — the good, the bad, and all the little bits in between. i feel ready to leave the past behind and step, finally, into this new chapter i’ve been trying to write for two years.

i have so much to write. so much to babble about. i’ll save that for another time. for now, simply enjoy your weekend. appreciate your blessings and where you are right now. the state of your soul is always beautiful

namaste

zoe

today, yesterday, and the day before that

after spending every day last week in the city, i kicked off the new week the only way i knew how…

in the city of course!

at the beach in particular (and the park. and the concrete avenues of the sunset district).

with a guy in particular.

on a particularly gorgeous day for san francisco in january…

i woke up in a particularly good mood this morning.

see, the thing is this: a few days before new years i met someone new. well, actually, i re-met him. but the other day marked the first time we ever legitimately kicked it. can i just say i have never felt more of a connection to another person so quickly? is that weird? maybe don’t answer that.

regardless, the past couple of days have left me stupid-happy and little girl giddy. i know not to carry myself too far off into fantastical lands but a woman’s gotta dream a little dream, right? right. especially when this new guy is a (brilliant) spoken word poet, deeply soulful, honest, creative, and a male i feel comfortable enough with to call a man instead of a boy. tough thing to do at this age, or so i find. interactions feel fluid. i don’t feel the need to keep my guard up, around my personality or my body (though, nothing outside of the most excellent of cuddles has happened. i move sloooow.) my perspective is shifting as life shifts. something in the universe is supporting me and protecting me. i feel it. 2012 is bringing something special for the mind, body, soul, and heart.

now, if you’ll excuse me. i’ve got a room to clean and organize!

how has 2012 treated you so far?

namaste

zoe

a new year

i am so ready to wrap 2011 up in a box and shelve it.

(source)
2011, in summation, has a one word description: struggle.

in 2011 i:
got cheated on
gained back all the weight i lost plus more
developed a binge eating problem
developed bulimia in response to said bingeing problem
self-harmed
fell into a deep depression
got sick more than i did in the past two years

in 2011 i:
found myself again
fell in love with life again
crawled out of the darkness
started seeing a therapist
started feeling and processing my emotions
started eating meat again (!)
broke out of my restrictive eating habits
broke out of my exercise compulsion
went deeper into my yoga practice
learned how to balance again (literally and figuratively)
made beautiful, solid friendships
got out of my comfort zone (hello, burning man!)
found my soul on the dance floor

i never laughed and cried so much in one year. i never felt more inspired and more stuck. i never felt more confident and more uncomfortable. talk about a crazy emotional, crazy hectic — just crazy period — year.

though i’m definitely not one to make new years resolutions, i somehow decided to make one last year. looking at it makes me smile. in only 12 short months so much has changed…

(last year’s list)
GO DEEPER INTO MY YOGA PRACTICE (already happening!)
START AND COMPLETE MY FIRST 200 HOURS OF YOGA SCHOOL
GO TO CULINARY SCHOOL
GET MY TATTOO (making the appointment tomorrow, actually!)
RUN A HALF MARATHON
RUN A MARATHON
COOK AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE
FINISH THE NOVEL I STARTED THIS PAST SEMESTER
CUT WHITE SUGAR OUT OF MY DIET COMPLETELy (seriously you guys, this shit just does not jive with me and i kind of need to accept it.)
ATTEND COUNSELING UNTIL I FEEL STRONG ENOUGH TO STAND ON MY OWN
LOVE MYSELF. COMPLETELY.

in review, how did i expect to accomplish any of that in one year! what a ridiculous set up for ultimate failure! i went deeper in my yoga practice and totally garnered a bottomless self-love. i cooked, but not as much as i hoped. about the only other thing i accomplished on that list was seeing a counselor. still happening! but me? running a marathon and a half marathon? whaaaaat a flippin’ joke!

this year, i have much more simple goals…

continue on my path of wellness
continue on my journey of self-love
continue to deepen my yoga practice
continue with therapy
go back to school for naturopathic medicine
read a little more
write a little more
step back from the screen a lot more
play around with and learn my camera more
say ‘yes‘ to everything i can manage, especially those things that scare me the most
laugh more
love more
play more
cook more
reach a natural, healthy weight

in the past few years i feel like i started every year by saying “this year is going to be a good year.” in my heart of hearts though, i know i never really believed it. i lived with too much foreboding, too much sadness, too much hatred to ever really believe it.

this year though…

this year is going to be the year i’ve been waiting for. i can feel it. for real this time.

do you make new years resolutions? did you accomplish any this year? what are yours for this coming year, if you make them?

namaste

zoe