Ass-to-Grass

Sweet Saturday

A fellow fit friend posted something on his feed the other day that really resonated with me. Among other musings, he said, “Comfort does not facilitate change.” Aside from my love of alliteration, this statement stuck with me something serious! (see what I did there?!)

He’s right.

In the gym, I’ve been working on perfecting ass-to-grass squats every rep, every time. It’s hard as shit and really uncomfortable. With 165 across my back, I get scared and start to second guess myself. This happens frequently, even when I have a haus of a spotter standing right behind me. Even when mentally I know I’m strong enough to do it, I second guess myself. All the fucking time. And the result? My squats aren’t to depth, which means I’m not actively working on building a whole squat booty, just half of one. And no one ever wrote a song about half a booty, so there’s that. The point is that I know I can do it, I know I can change and make it happen, but it’s comfortable for me to get to 80% depth and then stop. I know I can drive back up, I know when to stop on the descent. It’s SAFE.

But it doesn’t get me where I need to be, and it’s surely not going to help my squat game at all. What’s so sweet about this sort of self-realization is that since I am actively aware of what I’m doing, every time I go in to squat, I know that I need to force myself out of my comfort. Like Anya says, I just need to rip off the fucking bandaid already and get it over with. Scary as shit, yet. But effective as hell, too.

With Carr’s thought in mind, I’ve been trying to approach my days with a certain level of fearlessness, which is not the same as recklessness. On my last rep of my last squat set yesterday, I knew I was gassed, but I wasn’t totally spent. I had to dig a little deeper to get out that last rep, but I knew I could do it. And I don’t want to be comfortable, complacent in less than perfect squats … or give less than my all. Know what happened? It was my best squat of the day. There’s something to be said in the belief of one’s self. 

#brotherlylove

Fabulous Friday

This is always one of my favorite posts to write. Friday marks the end of the workweek, a step away from Dental World, and a chance to breathe. It also offers a bit of introspection, no matter what's happened in the last seven days since my previous post.

What a week. As I continue to prep for graduation and realize that life outside of my MFA is going to happen SOON, I am faced with certain challenges. Applying for my PhD and looking forward is on the forefront of my mind, so I've been trying to move with intent and purpose. Also, the realization that my time in the Nati might be coming to an end is ever-present as well. With that in mind, I've come to terms with the fact that each day is only what I make it. So ... I can either allow my constantly pressing schedule to bog me down, or I can embrace the chaos, love the chance to change and just flow.

I've decided that embracing the change is much less stressful and ultimately way more fulfilling than trying to adhere to silly time slots in my Google Calendar. Take today for example ...
Absolutely NOTHING happened the way I planned. I was at Dental World almost three hours longer than I anticipated, which threw off my entire afternoon. Instead of becoming frustrated and annoyed, I took it for what it was - a chance to perfect my dental skills and keep on moving. I got to Beat late, but ended up having one of my best ass-to-grass squat days that I've had in a while. And after training, instead of retreating to my lab to work and write my words, I went for Happy Hour with the Beat crew ... and ended up having a fantastic evening! Proof that moving with the current can be far more beneficial than trying to fight it all of the time.

Ghost said something to me the other day that's really resonated with this approach. He said, "Def. You gotta decide whether it's gonna make you better or bitter. And if you took it all away - all the pain and struggle - would you still have yourself? You can't become the pain and the struggle. Gotta stay you." Damn my brother is a fucking genius. Big ups, bro.

Miles to Go

It has long since come to my attention that people of accomplishment rarely sat back and let things happen to them. They went out and happened to things. – Elinor Smith

Boom. What?! Where have these words been my whole life?! Not only do Smith’s words epitomize everything I try to do, all that I preach and exactly how I want to live, that someone else has had this same thought also offers me validation and pause.  I’m in an interesting place in my life right now – I graduate my Master’s next month, and in the span of a few short weeks, I’ve seen my brother and one of my best friends be married. A lot of the goals that I set for myself in the beginning of 2015 are coming to a head – I’ve published my first book, got a handle on my eating, ramped my training, and have generally aimed to be happy. All fine and well, and a pat on my back for sure. 

But it’s not enough, and I know it won’t be enough for quite some time. Each goal I achieve opens the door to a new goal that I want to surmount, a finish line to cross, award to win … whatever it is, there’s excellence out there in the world to be had and I am going to have it! It would be super easy for me to be scared out of my fucking mind about what’s going to happen in 2016; and there’s a lot of truth in the fact that I am pretty well unnerved. I have no real concrete plan; just a general idea of what I think might happen. My list of things I want, and goals I have is miles long though, so I guess that’s a good starting point. 

Stacking Trunks

Trousseau – the clothes, household linen, and other belongings collected by a bride for her marriage

No, don’t freak out. I’m not getting married.

I have a trousseau of memories I’ve been collecting since I was a teenager. When I removed myself from the Nati for my exile to the North, I left the trunk with Ghost for safekeeping and because it’s fucking heavy and there was no way I could move it. When I would return home on occasion, I would make deposits into my trunk, thinking there would likely be a day at some point I’d go through it to rediscover my treasures. I’ve been home for a while now and all I’ve managed to do is ADD to it. There’s just so much in there, so many memories to examine, moments to relive, and ultimately decisions to make about whether or not anything is worth … keeping that the idea of the task has been daunting. It’s on the docket for this autumn though because I plan to take the trunk with me on my next step … allowing it to fill a place as my trousseau – the collection of new items and trinkets of important that I just know I will need on the next phase of my journey.

Green Heart

Tuesday’s Truth

Reawakening the spirit – whether through mindful yogic practices, long morning runs, or simply finding the sort of space within the self to breathe – is something I consider quite a bit. I think it’s far too easy for all of us to become complacent, lax in our efforts and even more so in our progression. I’ve probably written about or referenced this theme at least a hundred times this year! It’s so vital to my pursuit of self-satisfaction and my desire to be the best human possible in this life.

Because of these rolling sorts of thoughts, and maybe because I’ve been feeling a touch on the emo-side lately, having witnessed and been a part of two epic weddings, the concept of love and truth has been in the forefront of my mind.  The truth is, I’ve been pretending like I’ve been ready to accept, embrace and relish in the real-life effort of what Love is, the enterprising and all-encompassing sort of capacity that it takes when one is truly and fully open. I’ve been saying that I’m ready but my heart has still been shrouded by loss. Ultimately, I realize that I’ve been reticent to open myself and my life because I’m scared … of being hurt, of making the wrong choice, of walking a path that will lead to less and not more. But if I look objectively at the last chunk of my life, I realize that this mode of thinking is doing little to encourage the spirit of happiness and gratitude and a whole lot more to leave me feeling funky, displaced and frustrated.

On Valentine’s Day this year, I had Dryer ink an open heart on my hip. I explained I wanted it open to signal to the Universe that I was (am) ready to receive love into my life. I remember Dryer smirking a bit; maybe he knew that even though I was saying the words, I wasn’t truly ready. The heart inked on my skin is still open, and now maybe the heart inside of me is open too.

Emo as fuck, I know. But even a yang girl has to have her yin moments every now and again.

double, her muse

Modi's Monday

double, her muse

        after Effet de Neige avec Vaches a Montfoucault, Camille Pissarro

she will wait months

for winter to release silent

grip of manic

energy forces her to

look out windows and

produce, consume, repeat

dredging lives through

might Ohio mud

sockless feet blend and numb

blue shades offer pause

gnawing creativity pushing

forward, she chases

(him) that dream, less

important when she’s fireside

eating Danish cookies, wrapped in arms.

#willisweddingweekend

Sweet Saturday

It’s #willisweddingweekend! Willis marries her love this evening and I’m honored to be a part of her special day.

Last night was the rehearsal and dinner. We practiced how to walk, where to stand, and then shared a wonderful meal with Willis, her intended and those near and dear to them. At one point during dinner, I sat back and just looked around ... it amazed me to realized that most of the folks at the table have been in my life in one form or another for well, almost my entire life. There aren't too many folks in their 30's who can say that they're still close with those with whom they shared their early years. I'm fortunate that I am one of the few who can say that!

Watching two people who love one another exchange vows and pledge their lives is something precious. It’s inherently sweet, a moment full of promise and weight. Like the rest of the world, weddings always make me cry. I had to hold back something serious at Ghost’s wedding a few weeks ago so that I wasn’t a blubbering mess … though my resolve caught up to me when he said his vows, I managed to stay almost-tear free the whole ceremony. I anticipate that this wedding will be much the same. Who doesn’t love seeing two people in love?

Even more, knowing that Willis has found her Forever, that one person with whom she can always be herself is spectacular. It gives me hope that there is someone for everyone. My heart is still so full from Ghost’s wedding; I can’t imagine how much more I’ll be beaming come this evening. These nuptials mean that there are only a few folks left in my social circle who haven’t listened to Beyonce. I’m sure the time is coming for the last holdouts!  Love does rule the world after all.

Worth the Wait

Fabulous Friday

Um, I know I’m super late to this party, but I’m finally getting around to reading Beautiful Ruins. Whoa! Not only do the author and I share a name (which immediately makes the novel awesome) but Jess Walter writes in the way that I hope to develop. The work is easy to read, engaging, moving, captivating … and the story is just phenomenal. It’s the kind of book that I stay up way too late reading, hungry for every single page, which is exactly what’s happened almost every day this week. I’m flying through the narrative, but I’m trying to savor it too. I think that’s the hallmark of a real page-turner.

Not only are her characters true to life, complex and dynamic, but I find myself relating to them, even if there are few surface similarities. It’s clear that she’s done her field work – ok, maybe she hasn’t spent time in Italy, but the work sure reads like she has.

Since graduation is on my mind so much (and the countdown ticker shows less than a month until I’m hooded with my Master’s ribbons) I’ve been giving though to the ways that I can improve my work. It will do me little good to sit inside working on words if I’m not out living life. I feel like I’ve said no to so many social events the last two years because I’ve been so pressed to complete this degree on time and stay on target. Now, I’m eager to get out and live a little. If I’m not having new experiences, then what’s there to write about?

Thawing River

Thursday’s Thought

Rebirth of the self – in any form or variety – is essentially letting go of one version to embrace the next. Sure, it’s a generally an upgrade in some sense, as transitions often encourage us to become greater, better, more, but as such, a transition is still a difficult and sometimes frustrating experience.

This flux of transition is a theme that has accompanied me over the last eighteen months as I’ve navigated my way through graduate school, life as a thirty-something divorcee, trying to get a handle on what is it that calls to my spirit, what will sustain and fulfill me, and ultimately what will make me happy.

As late, in realizing that the transitionary period is as much a journey of the self as is the ultimate destination, I have become aware of the fact that these actions have helped the over-arching theme of self-betterment, but I’ve been in too much of a rush to get to the next train stop that I’ve forgotten to enjoy this part.

Shit.

Okay, all is not lost because I still don’t know what I’m doing with my next chapters, but damn if I don’t wish I had seen this truth just a bit sooner. Maybe then I would have found ways to incorporate more joy and less stress into these last 540-some odd days. Efed’s truth that she shared with me recently keeps floating back into my brain. It is not happy people who are thankful; it is thankful people who are happy. Feeling frozen and cold has done little to help me; it’s only encouraged me to think negative thoughts and find the dark instead of the light. A little cold snap every now and again is reasonable and to be expected … but it’s time to thaw!

Zeitgeist

 Ineffable – too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words

O my stars, I love this word. Like seriously love it … and yet, it’s one of those words that I largely forget to use in day to day conversation. Some famous writerly person once said that the best writers are the best readers, and it’s true! I found this word in a novel I was reading recently and it literally stopped my world. Like I paused mid-sip of my tea to just chew over the deliciousness of it, twirling it around in my tongue like a decadent treat.

It’s also a trickster sort of word, right? Calls to mind the sort of lexicon that so many of us use in text messaging, our modern short hand. Ineffable like not f-able, like it’s not going to happen. I know that’s not the true meaning of the word, but I could see how it could be used in a modern sort of capacity. Like Sam from undergrad used to say, shorthand is part of the zeitgeist of our age – either I accept it or I make changes to show it’s progress. She was right of course; abbreviations are everywhere … doesn’t mean I have to like them. And  the purist in me doesn’t want to destroy this gorgeous word so I’ll stick to using this word for what it means – beyond description, indescribably, inexpressible … sort of like my love for it!

Park Walks

Tuesday’s Truth

Over the weekend, I had a chance to take a lovely afternoon stroll around one of the Nati’s beautiful parks. On Sunday the weather was just perfect for a park walk and an almost twenty year catch-up … crisp and cool in the shade, warm and invigorating in the sun.  It was a very real reminder of the beauty that comes with this season.

Much like the conversation I shared on Sunday, the intoxicating and varying temperatures reminded me just how much life is well, cyclical. In Ohio, we’re fortunate enough to have four seasons every year, and sometimes the Nati’s weather changes four times in one day. Because of this, I’ve grown accustomed to associative weather. (I don’t know if that’s a real term or not, but I’m coining it so there.) I am not a summer sort of girl. Sure, I love the sun and the brilliance that early morning runs or late night sunsets offer, but there’s nothing … exhilarating about the season for me. It always feels too full, too complete, robust, and round. But autumn, now here’s a season I can get behind. It tickles at the end and the beginning of so many things – sunny summer, the onset of long winter nights, and my own drive and pull toward my lab for revisions, work, musings and truth tappings.

As I strolled through the park, marveling at the meteorological beauty of this season, I realized that as much as I can appreciate the full circle approach to these days, even more brilliant and beautiful is when random folks pop back into life’s hemisphere … and even if it’s for just a few short hours (as it was on Sunday) or if it’s for a few months (as with the season) true cylindrical appreciation comes from not only recognizing when these moments occur, but pausing for a moment to give thanks. 

gaze theory

Modi's Monday

gaze theory

           after Portrait of Jeanne, Camille Pissarro

four minutes too long

interlude to brood, high backed

sitting sad, chair comforts

lost. connections chained to

keep heart’s bouquet

strung like holiday

lights illuminate overgrown

mourning, he is hungry for

respite, reprieve to

measure real against read

months set to pass
winter, she follows him

fading almost autumn 
suggestions cover

snow slopes
their great divide

A Right Place

Sunday's Summary

What a week. It was an up and down sort of experience ... highs and lows the likes I haven't seen in a while. I guess there's a really bi part of me that wonders what the fuck I'm going to do come November when I graduate my Master's ... and there's an even bigger part of me that (proud, as I am) knows that the completion of one goal simply opens the door for another one to take it's place. I'm trying to remember that as I navigate these next few weeks.
On Saturday, I pr'd my sumo deads at 225! Whatinthewhatwhat. It was brilliant and I'm still glowing form it. The sheer strength to lift up that much weight is something that was completely unattainable even just last month. Dedication and commitment to show up, every single day no matter what goes such a long way.
That said, today has been the sort of day that could have gone awry quickly. After waking so super late, I was feeling sluggish and not at all interested in doing well, anything. But I kicked myself into gear, got to lafit and had a killer session. After, a thorough flat cleaning seemed like the only appropriate thing to do, and I even scores a humidifier for the coming cold months.

As I prepare to close out the week and flip over the page in my calendar, I'm considering ways in which I can make the next seven days spectacular. Willis marries her love on Saturday the 24th, and I'm honored to be able to be a part of her special day. With that in mind, this week I hope to cultivate a spirit of love and gratitude. It is these two things that keep the world moving. Working on my new manuscript and sending out some submissions of my latest collection of poetry, A Lifetime of Wednesday's is also on my docket. I know that small steps make larger stride, which ultimately make this race of life manageable, doable and lively.

Learning to Breathe

Sweet Saturday

Earlier this week, I was struck with the sort of time-stopping moments that tend to occur when life is getting ready to change. Some famous old dude said something about all great change being proceeded by chaos, and boy was he right! In an email to Ry yesterday, I wrote that it feels like I've lost the last two months of my life. No idea where the days went, or what the fuck I was doing with my time ... but suffice it to say that I feel like I'm coming back.

I digress.

Instead of following my normal schedule for this particular day, I decided that a bit of pause and reflection, a la Natalie, was in order. So off I went to a group yoga class.

I haven’t written much about my love affair with yoga lately, namely because it comes and goes. I still offer a few salutations to the Sun every morning, and practice Breath of Fire when I’m feeling particularly in need of Kundalini grounding … but the day to day practice that was once the hallmark of my life has largely fallen off. I attribute this to needing to voice my yang energy instead of cultivating the yin … there’s only so much peace a broad can emote before she wants to pick and and set down heavy weights!

But out of nowhere this week, the call to practice was in my mind as if I were standing again at home-studio in the north. I realized not only did I want to feel the vibe of a group class, but I NEEDED it. Like needed it as badly as I need to breathe. So off I went to a class at my cookie-cutter box gym, not sure what to expect.

And guess what?

The instructor, Laura opened the class with an abridged kriya that I know and love. She sprinkled in bhakti phrasing and ashtanga flow into this hybrid class. The sixty minutes I spent with the other (mostly elderly) participants left me feeling more refreshed and energized than I have felt in weeks. How sweet it was to breathe together, move together, lie in sivasana together. There’s something to be said for collective group thought, when a bunch of strangers converge in a studio setting simply to learn to be that offers one pause. It was brilliant, perfect, and a very real reminder of why I love the practice of yoga so dearly. 

Seneca Abounds

Fabulous Friday

I am so pleased to be able to write that I have officially submitted my Creative Thesis as partial fulfillment for the requirements of my Master’s degree.

I wrote a few posts earlier in the year about the struggles and challenges of formatting my Critical Thesis correctly – I think I got it back three different times before it was officially accepted. This time though … I was smart, and had two screens open and working. I think I have everything correctly formatted and I am hopeful that it will be accepted the first time through. Fingers crossed.

What a deliciously fabulous feeling though to simply format the document … to send off to the Academic powers that be one hundred and forty pages of my newest novel. While writing the abstract, I realized I could describe the work in only 65 words. Ha! I don’t know if that means my 85k plus word manuscript is too long or too short. My dedication of the work is to “the originals – you know who you are. Thank you for giving me your stories.” I hope that when this novel sees the bright lights of a bookstore, the Originals will pick it up and maybe see themselves in the pages. As an ode to Ghost, I selected a Seneca quote for my epigraph. And of course, I dedicated the work to my sibs – without them, I wouldn’t be the woman I am, the writer I am to be, the human I seek to find.

After I formatted and sent off my thesis, I stared at the screen for a while. Not only is this work the real life version of the effort I’ve put forth the last two years, but it’s also something real and tangible that I’ve created from start to finish. It is now a representation of the idea that dreams come to fruition when one is willing to work. After I took a deep breath and said a prayer, I got right back to work.

#ontothenextone #stayhumble #hustlehard

“No man was ever wise by chance.”

Revise, Edit, Repeat?

Thursday's Thought

The life of a writer is fraught with edits and revisions. When I’m sitting in front of a screen working on a bit of dialogue or scratching away at a plot line, I’m consistently thinking of the next bit or the previous one. To make work cohesive, I need to make sure that what I’m tapping in the moment is in line with what I’ve previously established, or what I plan to do with the narrative. Sometimes this works and I get it right on the first try. Sometimes I reread and realize that I’m so far off from what I need to be writing. So then I get to do something beautiful and brilliant – I get to furiously tap on the backspace key, deleting whole sentences and phrases. It’s glorious to hold this kind of power.

Margaret Atwood said, “When you alter yourself, the alterations become the truth” (Atwood, 1993, pg182). Because I spend so much of my time editing and altering my words, I worry that I subconsciously do this with my life as well. Sure, we all smudge over bits that might not be as lovely as we want to recall, or embellish the bits that were difficult and trying to showcase our fortitude and awesomeness. But at what point do those revisions become something more? I worry that the way I remember things happening might not be the exact way it panned out and that is bothersome since I rely so heavily on details.

Even with all the writing I do, and the personal reflection of each of my days, I’m still seeing my life through the lens of what I want to see. So maybe my days aren’t as fab as I think them to be; or maybe they’re greater than I realize. I’m not sure. Maybe my truest and most pure crusade should be to accurately and correctly record these moments that shape me as a human so that I can look back and know that I’m not altering myself or revising my own history. 

Trees and Forests

Pyrrhic – of a victory won at too great a cost to have been worthwhile

It’s so easy to be stubborn, to refuse to see the signs of defeat, and to continue to push ahead. Particularly, all of these things are easy to do when one is so committed to an end goal, to seeing the finish line of a journey that was started with sound mind and body. I’m considering this word quite a bit this week as I begin to unravel exactly what this journey through my MFA has actually cost me, and whether or not it was worth it. By no stretch can I consider my education to be pyrrhic in any way – the battles I’ve won, like my newest manuscript, and those I’ve lost, like the earliest work I submitted to my esteemed professors (who were kind enough to nurture me along, even though the work was for shit!) all point to the root joy in this process. And yet, as I start to wrap up this phase in my life, I have to think also about what else I’ve sacrificed … the countless nights I couldn’t hang with the girls, or go out and do things because I needed to be sitting in front of my screen, or being so exhausted that I can barely function, or never actually being present because my mind has been on my work … I’m fortunate enough to have a great group of family and friends who have understood just how important this has been for me. So sure, my MFA hasn’t been a pyrrhic victory all the way, but there have been enough sacrifices made that have made me really question what I’m doing. 

A Travelin' Train

Tuesday’s Truth

So much better to travel than to arrive, says Atwood. How true her words. I haven’t been traveling as I want, or as I used to, but I’ve been managing to get out and about a bit. I went to Chicago a few months ago and that was a nice reset for me in so many ways. It also left a gaping need to get out more, to see the world and experience new things.

I graduate next month and with the conferring of my degree, now begins the next part of my life. Truth is, I have no fucking idea what the hell I’m doing.  Loosely, I have the framework, the idea of what I want and how I plan to make it happen … but the nitty gritty sorts of plans that I so love to make? Nope. I got nothin’ and it’s a really immobilizing thought. At least, it is at times. 

It’s so easy to allow my focus to become narrowed to the point that I can’t see anything else … travel to work and home, the gym and the market and not see anything else of what my city or the world has to offer. It’s easy to forget that I’ve traveled across the pond and have seen some amazing sights. Maybe the point of Atwood’s words are that the journey should be just as important as the destination. I’m not sure. I know though that stumbling across this phrase reminds me of how much I do love to travel. 

(parenthetical thoughts of how)

Modi's Monday

(parenthetical thoughts of how)

            after A Road in Louveciennes, Camille Pissarro

if we are (in

this life) to

loop arm in

arm the way

we slept (away that

weekend) in

august heat, eminent and

venerable melding of

moments melting then

(we should talk)
stroll into autumn

you in a top hat

me with a parasol,
finding the meadow of
future and possible

Thankful Moments

Sunday Summary

Wow what a weekend! Efed and I were able to be a part of Ghost's special day yesterday while we watched him exchange vows with his new beautiful bride. It was lovely, touching, and absolutely perfect. Welcoming a new sister into our family is as much a ritual in the wedding as it is taking part in the small moments every day that helps a craft the connections that are shared. I know that me she is a wonderful companion for my brother, a fantastic mother to my nephews, and ultimately a wonderful person. I'm so excited to see the two of them grow, as individuals, as a couple of, and as a family.

Aside from the brilliance of the day, yesterday was a nice reminder of every reason why this place has been home to me for so long. Reconnecting with old friends, seeing those who haven't been around much, and finding the time and space to have conversations of meaning and merit or something that my soul needed. It's far too easy to become so involved in my own world that I forget their others outside as well.

Efed gave me a bit of advice today, and as the older sister, she is always right. She said that happy people who are thankful but thankful people who are happy. As always her words are in point and exactly correct.

This coming week should be a whirlwind! 20 days until my show, and im squeezing in a trip to Cali this week in between Willis's wedding and heading north to compete. I know that im likely to feel a bit overwhelmed, but as long as i stay on target and remember Efed's advice, I think I'll be solid.
O! And Mood just released a new album! #natimusic #ohioagainsttheworld

Logging my Miles

Sweet Saturday

Well, it's Wedding Day! Ghost officially gets hitched today. Wild how far we've come.

This week, there have been so many moments of sweetness. I had a very introspective conversation with a dear friend about movement - lateral or horizontal and the ways in which the need to see new horizons keeps us moving forward. Good food for thought. I also made some kick ass walnut butter that is super legit.

Perhaps the sweetest moment of the week was Wednesday when I had one of the best early-morning sunrise runs that I've had in a while. Look at this picture I snapped while I was crossing over the Norwood Lateral. The sun was coming up in such a perfect way, highlighting the buildings underneath it. I think I've photographed the tracks that run under the Lateral at least a dozen times, both from the bridge I was standing on for this picture and from the other side. There's something about tracks that call to me - and even more, something about this particular view that captivates me. I paused for just long enough to take the picture and then kept on moving, but the ethereal sort of feeling that the orange light offered me stuck with me through the rest of the day.

Maybe that sort of pleasant characteristic is what I seek when I'm out on my runs; maybe i haven't been conscious of my root need to push my feet any more than I have the end result. But I know that savoring these next few weeks of running before the weather turns brisk and I'm forced to layer up or log my miles on the mill really does something for my soul.

Joining Forces

Fabulous Friday

It’s Wedding Week! Ghost gets married tomorrow. I can’t believe it.

Over the course of this week, I’ve been giving much thought to Ghost, Efed, and the fantastic connection that the three of have managed to maintain from childhood through now. I know it’s a bit unusual for siblings to be so close, especially when we all are leading such vastly different lives. Somehow we’ve managed to make it work, and it’s no secret I count these two as my best friends.

Even though he’s been engaged for months, and the wedding preparations have been in full swing for a while, I find it baffling that Ghost is getting married … not because he’s an ogre or something, but because well – Ghost getting married is sort of like the culmination of a long line of progress. It means that he’s managed to achieve much of what he’s wanted in this life. It’s been a treat and a joy to watch him go from doing the things he used to do to living the find of life he has now, and even though it’s not always the way I would live, it’s what makes him happy. So this week, I’ve allowed my mind to drift back to fun little moments that he and I have shared over the years, and I’ve realized that along with Efed, it’s likely no one is ever going to know me quite like he does. 

That he has the opportunity now to marry his best friend is a comfort to me; it means that he’s forever going to be taken care of, that he’ll have someone by his side, that he’ll be loved and safe. It’s fabulous, really, to think that he’s found his Forever. If only we are all so blessed. 

One Word Leads to Many

Thursday's Thought

Each day is a little life; every waking and rising a little birth; every fresh morning a little youth; every going to rest and sleep a little death. – A. Schopenhauer

How true! It’s so easy for me to boggle myself with the eventual – you know, all the plans that I spend so much time crafting, carefully sketching out the kind of future that I want to live, and forget that each of these moments that lead to tomorrow are stand alone blessings. Every morning, I wake and clap my hands. 

Verbally, I thank the World for giving me another day. For almost two years, I’ve been repeating the same phrase over and over. In September, something shifted and I found myself saying new words, a small phrase that has more meaning and isn’t said just to be said. The change has been impacting, and helpful. Just as much as each day is a little life, it’s important to remember to pause just a moment and appreciate the fact that every dawn is a chance to begin again. Far too often, I rush around, thinking about what I nee to do tomorrow instead of focusing on what should be done today. 

Alazia

Wednesday’s Word

Alazia –

            The realization that the answer to the question of what kind of person one might become actually has an answer

            From the Turkish god Alaz Khan, a fire diety

One of the most pressing questions children get asked is, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” because it offers the child a chance to articulate dreams, expand on interests and develop a sense of identity. Sure the answer might change from one week – or day – to the next, but that’s part of the malleability of childhood, part of the innocence that we all likely shared at one point. The mere fact that we could actually be someone, anyone, anything, wasn’t daunting, or worrisome. There weren’t ladders to climb or presentations to give; we simply allowed ourselves to dream. This fluidity of the human spirit accounts for much of the desire and drive that propels and pushes us forward. Over time, it’s so easy to forget what we wanted to do in the first place – we get lost in the shuffle, the commute to the eventual that the journey is often misrepresented as being anything but a stop on the trip, when really, it is the trip! As we grow, mature and age, it’s so much harder to keep reaching for that eventual light. It seems dimmer, maybe. Or further off in the distance than originally estimated. So sometimes, it’s easier to just keep pushing instead of remembering to stop, breathe, and appreciate the moment. 

Ham Hock and Pinto Beans

Tuesday's Truth

Some mornings I wake up and I just want a bowl of my Mama’s beans. She would start with her beans the night before – carefully picking out any rocks or other weird pieces that might’ve come in the bag, and then would leave them to soak overnight. In the morning, she’d change the water, add some bay leaves and set them to a low simmer on the back right burner of our old stove. Drop in a couple of bay leaves, some other spices and off the beans went to do whatever it was that they were supposed to do. It was watching her preparing beans that I first learned a lesson in patience.

Sure, I didn’t exactly want beans for breakfast, but show a little girl one of her favorite meals and then say that she has to wait until dinner, and the struggle becomes tough! And yet, somehow I managed to make it through every one of those days.

This morning, I woke with a serious hankerin’ for some beans. And not just the thought of opening a can of black beans and weighing out 150 grams on my scale. Nope. I wanted full on real southern beans. Cornbread. A cold glass of milk, too.

Of course, there’s no way that’s going to happen. I have neither the recipe nor the time to make beans the way Mama could. Cornbread is also nowhere near the same Universe as my current meal plan! So what to do, I puzzled while making my coffee. I did the best thing I could think of in this early morning … I opened a menagerie of beans, plopped them in my soup pot, added some spices and set the burner to low. It’s not going to be the same as sitting on the floor eating soup-beans out of a chipped bowl, but it’s as close as I can get. 

orchard cleansing

Modi's Monday

orchard cleansing

        after The Laundry Woman, Camille Pissarro  

she (with spring airs

and crooked back, wretched like

question marks of age)

washes shirts and trousers

refreshing dresses, colored scarves

keeping life invisible (or beautiful, making for)

mistrust scrubbed away to open

her vulnerable, (blossom

of an early april flower, she) gulps for

breath, stands slowly to

separate corseted emotion

Wrapping Up

Sunday Summary

Wow-wow-wow. This week starts the wedding season for which I have been eager awaiting! Ghost gets married this coming Saturday and Willis will say her vows two weeks after that. Eeek. It’s all so exciting and it feels like it’s happening so quickly. I’m sure it doesn’t for them, since they’ve been planning for months, but for me, it seems like it’s all gone by so fast.

This week saw the rise of a new manuscript. Huzzah. It’s about fucking time that I started writing something new. I’ve been super focused on my creative thesis that new work has largely gone by the wayside. So the beginnings of this new work have been a nice reminder that yep, I am a writer, and I can think of new things to write about!

My show is in too few days to give a number. I have no idea where this prep went, or if I’m even as ready as I want to be. It’s been rough these last few weeks digging deep enough to find the resolve to keep sweating and training, cutting and keeping my eye on the stage. But with the help of a fantastic support system, I’ve managed to rally and will be competing soon. There will be a Sunday Summary in a few weeks that says something like, “Show’s over. Off season. Time for pizza and wine.” What I’m learning is that this first prep is going to be the hardest because this is all new, and the preps following this one will be easier because I’ll know what to expect. So I’m trying not to be too hard on myself. Like Ghost said, this first show is just a rough draft. How very poetic coming from my engineer brother.

Maybe the most fantastic and exciting news from this week is that I get to see Efed for Thanksgiving! It all happened so fast on Friday – she and I were messaging about holiday plans and I told her that I had a few days off … and next thing I knew I have a ticket booked to Germany to spend some time with her. I cannot wait! She’s training for her first half right now, so I’m hoping we’ll get in some good cold weather runs. Yay for sister time. 

Brighter Side

Sweet Saturday

There are so many moments that are fantastic in a week – little things that I find that make me smile or laugh, or remind me of someone near and dear. It’s far too easy to forget about these moments and concentrate on the bad ones; maybe that’s because it’s my default, or it’s just so much more comfortable to be in that angsty-sort of place. Either way, since the Super Moon eclipse last week, I’ve been trying to … well, be nicer. See the brighter side. Enjoy these moments and not just focus on the journey.

I laid around for much of today and allowed myself the chance to reread most of these blogs. Okay, I didn’t totally read them, but I skimmed them well enough to get a feel for what kind of progress I’ve made over the last ten months. I cannot believe that it’s already October and the challenge I gave myself at the turn of the year has (for the most part) been met well. I’ve missed a few days here and there, lately more than earlier in the year, but that’s okay. It’s the process of doing this and not just the end result. Though, having 365 essays ranging from the mundane to the very important will be pretty sweet too!

New Things

Fabulous Friday

#fitnessfriday and #fridayfeature are getting well, a little stale ...

And they’re hard to write about week after week … figured I’d change things up for this month, as much because I can as because most often, change is usually a good thing. So enter Fabulous Friday! What better way to end the work week than to showcase something amazing and delightful, something that is especially stupendous, phenomenal and remarkable, right?

As I reflect on this week and pluck from the events I experiences something that was amazingly good and wonderful, I realize that far too often, I consider the things that are frustrating in life and not those that bring me joy. There’s a lyric from one of my favorite rappers that goes, “I was countin’ what was on my bucket list and not on my blessings” … how apt. It’s so important to pause from time to time and remember the good and the light in the world.

On Wednesday, I took some time to do the things that make the world a better place – I made bath salts for Willis since she’s stressed to the max with the final preparations for her wedding, I visited my favorite little neighborhood library, I caught up on some reading and writing, and an assorted box of deliciously decadent tea arrived. For some folks, none of that would sound inherently fabulous, I know. 

But it was an almost perfect day for me! The weather was dreary and overcast, and called to mind nestling in my lab and working on my words; I found such joy in stretching out on the sofa after I made the bath salts and simply being. It was a delicious way to spend my time. Later in the afternoon, I had deadlifts at the gym and I got a PR on my sumo lifts! 215 pounds, what?!

Changing Expectations

Thursday’s Thought 

Adopt the pace of nature; her secret is patience. - Emerson

As the season begins to change, I find myself changing with it. I am wise enough to know when to scale things back and when to ramp up. Right now, I’m in the middle-state of trying to do both. In the fitness world, I’m on a cut and I’m bulking at the same time. It sends my body into overdrive and the results, if done properly, will be fantastic. 

In my writer world, I’m putting finishing touches on my latest work and starting research for a new novel. Again, the dichotomy of these two ongoing processes can lead to confusing my characters and plot lines, if I’m not careful and plan accordingly.

I find all too often the inescapable desire to just go-go-go. I want everything yesterday, and that can be problematic at times. Emerson’s words strike a chord with me because they are true. Patience is the key to making sure that progress happens as it should. I can’t short change my characters any more than I can put on muscle if I’m not willing to work at each of these things in the right way. Rushing to write or trying to lift a weight that I am not prepared for is ultimately only going to lead me astray, far from the dreams I want so badly to achieve. Today, I’m considering Ralph’s words and remembering that each step, even if it’s small, is a step.