My musings while wandering through Philly and NYC.
You know that moment when you are descending from the clouds and looking at the vast world spread out beneath you, thinking about how small you are in comparison, wondering if you have made all the right decisions leading up to this point, all while a sad song plays in the background through your EarPods? That was this moment.
Perfection.
i remember the time
we woke up early
and drove to the river
to see the sunrise
and i remember the time
we drove to the beach
to watch the sunset
-sunset
One night, Kari and I sat on her bed and listened to the song "Eastside" three times in a row and I cried a lot.
I like this photo because, even though my lips are squiggled into a crooked smile, my stance seems to be one of power.
I sat on a bench on The High Line for a couple hours, reading and waiting for Mara to get off of work so we could go to dinner together. Hundreds of people passed by - couples, families, friends - holding hands, snapping photos, chatting about their day. The scenery around me kept changing. New visitors would share the bench with me every so often. The weather became colder. But I kept reading. At one point, I noticed the air become still. No footsteps or casual conversation. No camera phone shutters. I looked around and The High Line was clear.
According to Meyers-Briggs I am an extrovert, but there was something about that moment that was so cathartic. On my own, but not lonely. Safe. Happy. And everything is okay.
Dinner with Mara at a rooftop garden fairyland. Though we can only see each other every so often and live thousands of miles apart, some things will never change.
This is Kari. A light in my life. One of a kind. A true friend.
"I have declared my independence!"
Independence Hall
Philadelphia, PA
September 21, 2018.
Autumn, my favorite season of the year. A time of transition and gratitude. Every fall I hit the reset button and reflect on the past year. Maybe it's the changing color of the leaves or the crisp autumn air. Maybe it's the celebration of another birthday or the arrival of my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving. Whatever the spark, fall brings me joy in looking back on the year and looking to the boundless opportunity ahead.
This year has not gone by without its losses. The loss of a loved one. The loss of a meaningful relationship. But there have been triumphs as well. Beginning my clinical career as a student dentist. Waking up everyday happy and excited to go to work. A sense of purpose I have not felt in such a long time.
This year, as I turn a quarter of a century, I want it to be a year of caring for myself. My mind. My body. My spirit. My heart. My dreams.
My mind.
Sleep. Meditate. Let go of technology. Read more.
My body.
Cook more. Eat breakfast every morning. Skin care. Hike. Spend time in nature. More yoga.
My spirit.
Go to church. Read feminist literature. Know my self worth. Practice gratitude.
My heart.
Be easier on myself. Be vulnerable. Spend time with loved ones. Catch up with old friends.
My dreams.
Stay creative. Write more. Take more photos. Take an art class. Dance.
Cheers.
to: you
i was in oakland on friday
it was the first time i had taken bart
back to the east bay
since the the last time
i saw you
i got off at the same station i used to
but you weren't there
and yet
you were everywhere
i passed by bars
we used to sip cocktails at
walked by the exact space
where you parked your car
i passed by your street
in a crowd of people
i was secretly wishing
i'd see your face
i'd run up to you
and give you a big hug
squeeze your arm
i'd hope that you'd know
i wanted you to be happy
i want the best for you
nothing less
i'd hope you'd know
from my hug
but
you were nowhere
and i was
searching
hoping
waiting
wishing
that you are okay
from: me
