perspective

 

-photo by G. Oshrin

I like to look up at the sky. Day or night. It's mesmerizing to me. I think that way about the ocean too. Vast, mysterious, enticing, exciting, scary, undiscovered, complex. Worlds I can only imagine but that provide depth to viewpoints, life. It makes me feel. 

Perspective. It is like standing amongst a mountain range. I am but one. I am but me. There is so much more out there than me. I am a speck. The world continues long after I am gone and it was long before I was here. It makes me appreciative for my short conscious time on this earth and it gives me anxiety at how quickly it all can be taken away. Carpe diem. Seize the day. Be present. 

"All I can be is me - whoever that is." - Bob Dylan

The sky is limitless. It transcends time. Never ending; it affects everything. Our moods. Our energy. Limitless wonder. It is all interconnected, related, relatable even. It is something we all share on earth. It binds. Doesn't separate. It just is. 

"There was nowhere to go but everywhere, so just keep rolling under the stars." Jack Kerouac

"Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free; Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands; With all the memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves; Let me forget about today until tomorrow." Bob Dylan

Sometimes, I like sitting and just staring at the sky or out at the ocean. It may look like I am not doing anything but it is where the mind roams free and the dreams are large. There is no limit. There is no reality but it is real. It is quiet and it is movement. 

Today, take time to go outside and look up. If you are at the ocean, sit on the sand. Feel the sand between your toes and fingers. Look out. Look up. Don't just daydream. Dare to dream. 

Now, put on I Come Apart by A$AP Rocky (featuring Florence Welch) and let's make some tacos. They are actually incredible. Truly. 

Pulled Chicken Tacos (yes, from Instagram!)

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always.

-Amy

nightswimming

 

picture this: 

me, seven years old
after dinner
hot summer night
no breeze 
a perfect night for one thing
nightswimming
only problem?
no pool

That's not a problem though. Uncle Will and Aunt Evie have one! We beg and plead. Can we please call? Can we go? Can we go? Like right now? 

My brother and I are changed into bathing suits and in the car before my parents have even relented. 

The ten minute drive feels like an hour. Windows are rolled down. I could drive there. I am a child of course but I know the way. Of course I know the way to one of my favorite places in the world. The familiar landmarks in my mind's eye. The drive-in theatre. The miniature golf course. The other mini-golf course. The sign for the school where my dad works. Then, finally the neighborhood. The divided road and finally we turn right at the corner by the tree. Anticipation at its height. We're almost there. We pull up to the curb and park. We are there. The dream. Realized. Towels swung over our shoulders. At the fence we wait for my dad to open the latch. The door creaks open. We are there. 

A clear night and in my memory it is perfect. Nothing is wrong. No bugs. No problems. Uncle Will, Aunt Evie and us. The water is warm because their pool heater is broken and it is simply perfect for the evening air. We are all in the pool. I am floating on my back. I am staring at the stars for what feels like hours, days. It is beautiful. Night noises and our laughter are the only sounds that matter.

I am obsessed with water. As a young child, I sit on my grandmother's lap in New Jersey and we look through her House Beautiful and Better Homes and Garden magazines searching for pools. For hours. They are oversized magazines so we can see the details. The flowers. The landscaping. The pools. The water. I imagine lying on my back in the pool, surrounded by beauty, staring at the sky. Then, my grandmother offers to make me french toast. Heaven. 

Fast forward. 

I am working this summer afternoon at home. June 29, 2023. After work I am debating a walk, gym or something else. It is hot. I am changed and am in the pool before I have fully decided to swim. My pool. Yes, the dream. My dream. Realized. I feel the water. Silky. Soft. It embraces me. Envelopes me. Comforts even. Allows me to spread my wings. I float on my back staring at the sky. I tread water. I am me. My dog is running around taking in the moment as only a pet can. Music plays. The past is the present. The present inspires me. 

I realize I need to write. Motivation is there to capture. My words won't do what I am feeling justice but it doesn't matter. I pour wine, I light the candle, I play songs that I feel deeply and I write. 

Immensely grateful. 

Now put on some songs that speak to you in ways that you feel in your soul. 

I am not cooking tonight and I am perfectly okay with that. 

The picture I place here is unedited. It is me. Just me. I am perfectly okay with that. 

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

-Amy

boneless

"Well she had no choice...Trixie bawled. She went boneless. She did everything she could to show how unhappy she was." from Knuffle Bunny by Mo Willems. 

I remember reading that line for the first time. 

"She went boneless."

Boneless. That image is always able to make me smile. Children have the ability to just do that. I think about my own girls being so sound asleep in my arms, heavy. Or when they were hysterical and simply couldn't move.

Boneless.

I think about the lack of inhibition younger people have generally.  A song comes on and they just dance. They really feel the beat, the music. In fact it is a need to do so. There is a complete lack of fear. 

I think about when they play pretend. When they use their imagination freely, by coming up with simple or elaborate scenes and situations. 

It is the process, the journey. That is the adventure. It isn't the destination. They dance like nobody is watching. Truly living in the moment. Simple moments. One after another. 

Then, we grow up. 

Naturally, we become more guarded, more aware, more careful. Our bodies become more stiff. There is a lack of space. Our breathing can even become more shallow. Fear settles in. 

I have become acutely aware of this about myself. In the fall, I went to a family wedding and my sister in law and I danced our hearts out. We sang and we danced. We let it all out for the first time in years. And honestly? It felt freaking amazing. My dad passed away the following week. When he died, I feel like a part of the fun loving side of me went dormant. Part of me crawled back inside myself. To a place that is safer, away, more distant. 

Recently, I saw a picture on Instagram of someone's mother dancing professionally as a young person. It made me pause. The beauty and the freedom of expression. Movement. I know I feel differently when I listen to music. How can I capture the rest of it? I miss those feelings! To feel more easygoing. To feel more me. To feel space and loose. To capture those moments that came so easily when I was younger. 

I have made a decision. I am chasing it. I am manifesting it by challenging myself. Every day, every week, I am going outside my comfort zone, even briefly. I am fighting the fear. It is time for the parts of me that are named fear and self-conscious to stand side by side and hold hands with the parts that are their opposite. It is time for balance. To breathe a little deeper, to look up at the light and to laugh. A deep, belly laugh.

Time to put on Last Last by Burna Boy and let's get cooking. 

I am going back to the archives for this one!!!! 

Greek-Style Burgers with Feta Aioli - Cooking Light, a million years ago

Aioli (I sometimes double this recipe because it is really good)
1/2 cup (2 ounces) crumbled feta cheese
2 T light mayo
2 T plain fat free yogurt
1/4 ground pepper
1 garlic clove minced

Burgers
5 (1/2 inch thick) slices red onion
Cooking spray
1 pd lean ground sirloin
2/3 cup fresh breadcrumbs (I use fresher than canned but not homemade)
1/3 cup chopped bottled roasted red bell peppers
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
1 tsp dried oregano
1/4 tsp salt (I omit usually)
1/4 tsp ground pepper
1 10-ounce package frozen chopped spinach, thawed, drained and squeezed dry
1 large egg, lightly beaten
2 garlic cloves, minced
rolls of your choice - they call for sourdough sandwich buns (I typically don't use a bun!)

For aioli: Combine first ingredients in a food processor, pulse one minute or until smooth. Cover and chill.

For onion: Place onion slices on a broiler pan or grill coated with cooking spray. Cook 2 minutes on each side, set aside.

For burgers: Combine beef and next 9 ingredients in a large bowl.  Divide beef mixture into 5 equal portions (I make more like 9 smaller burgers). Place patties on grill rack or broiler pan coated with cooking spray, and cook 6 minutes on each side or until burgers are done.

Spread 1 1/2 T aioli over top of the burger, along with the onions. Voila!  

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

-Amy

collapse

 

I am in Paris. I am standing across from Place des Vosges in the Marais around 5 p.m. We are running a little late and waiting for a taxi to pick us up. I am a bit tired from the day and lost in my mind. As I am zoned out, reflecting on the history of what is around me, out of the corner of my eye, I see a man stumble by me and cross the narrow street. He collapses outside the gate to the park. My attention refocuses when I see him on the ground. This isn't something I see every day. 

People go to him. I notice a woman from my left view actually run towards him as a group gathers to help. Some are on their phones calling the French version of 911. Others are attending directly to him, trying to rouse him. After a few minutes, he stands and seemingly shakes off what has just occurred. The group tentatively gives him space, very respectful of that space. He takes two more gingerly steps and collapses again. Once again, the group rushes to his side. Working together, they assist him without any hesitation. Off to the side I see a woman being comforted by her friends, clearly upset by what she has witnessed. I see others still on their phones trying to get through to emergency services. I see the woman who came running begin the process of CPR. He is then placed on his side and I see movement. I breathe a sigh of relief. 

The police, fire engine, ambulance arrive. Statements are made. He is taken away in the ambulance and the group disperses slowly. 

I am still standing across from Place des Vosges in the Marais around 5 p.m. 

My first thought was how struck I was, even moved, to see people go towards the man who collapsed. Why did that surprise me? If I am being completely honest, I was shocked that people went towards him instead of away from him. I am curious if that scene had unfolded in a city like New York or Los Angeles or Chicago, what would have happened? Am I so jaded to think that few would have rushed to him on impulse? The Bystander Effect. The case of Kitty Genovese coming to mind. The opposite happened here. There was no thinking. No wondering. No judgement. That afternoon in Paris, people saw someone in need and immediately ran to help. Literally. It truly restored a faith in humanity while at the same time, gave me pause to think that I was surprised by what I had witnessed.

The second thought I had was how quickly life can change for someone. My day. His day. Feet, even inches, apart. In a moment. In an instant. Things can change. This absolutely reset my perspective. We all experience different lives but we share the same pavement, the same air. Vital for me to remember that too. 

Time to put on Only a Hobo by Bob Dylan and let's get cooking. 

The other night I made Pesto Trapenese, This is a recipe from Smitten Kitchen. It is absolutely perfect in the summer with fresh pasta. It really hit the spot and I can't wait to make again. Find fresh, colorful ingredients and enjoy summer!

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

-Amy

afterglow

 

It's been one week. One week since I returned home. One week since our trip, our adventure, ended. In many ways things are back to normal. Routine re-established. Re-entry complete. Laundry done and put away. Groceries stocked in the refrigerator. Work back into full swing.

But. 

It stays with me. 

The trip. 

That feeling. 

Indescribable in many ways. The experience of being somewhere new, of relaxing into the moment. Being in the present. Allowing myself the ability to simply observe and take in what I can of another culture, another way of living. To learn. To seek. To be. I didn't want to insert myself. I wanted to blend in and explore a new place through a different set of eyes.

Being away, traveling, isn't always easy and it isn't always fun. There were moments. Moments of complexity. Moments of feeling off, feeling uncomfortable. I looked in the mirror and I saw it all. I rediscovered parts of me that were and are hiding. I realized that there are parts of me that have been hidden away for so long that they need some coaxing to feel comfortable being brought out into the open again. I took for granted that these parts of me are always there, just dormant, waiting. In the end though, if I don't engage those parts, they become static and awkward. Stale. It is crucial to step outside in order to find me again.

Clarity. 

Stripping away routine. 

Stepping away in order to step into something.

Clarity.

I am but one. One of billions. We are all so different and beautiful. Filled with our own stories, histories, dreams, trauma, aspirations, insecurities, countries, loves. Things that make us laugh. Things that make us cry. Things that make us angry. Our experiences are unique but they are also shared. I need to celebrate and learn from people. Realizing that we are more alike than different changes how we treat each other.  As humans. As friends. 

The key for me is to return from these travels and keep a piece with me. In my pocket. In my heart. In my skin and in my mind. To keep what I have gained with me so that my world is more open. So that the things I have learned about myself, all those parts that were neglected feel comfortable to come into the light again. To face the sun and shine. 

Put on Cheap Clothes by Whitley and let's get cooking. Today's recipe is an oldie but goodie. I am posting it because I made the corn salad this past weekend and the ribs are in my very, very near future. Summer is here people!

Foolproof Ribs with BBQ Sauce; Corn & Feta Salad

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Choose adventure too. Oh the places you will go. Peace and love always. 

jump. no DIVE into the deep end. it is scary as f"ck but I promise it's worth it

 

I am driving. It is night. May. Chanel by Frank Ocean plays. The sun has just set in the sky even though it is almost 8:30 p.m. The colors I am seeing on the horizon are varying oranges, reds and purples. Layers upon layers until I see the dark above. Stars just beginning to express themselves. Little beings, old as they are but new to the person viewing them. I am thinking. 

It was a really long day at work but it ended with drinks and dinner and my friend. As it always is with her, it was simply refreshing to sit and reconnect. I love to learn what is going on in her world and it is nice to share what is going on in mine. Sitting in the booth felt both secluded, private and social at the same time. I was shielded from the buzz of the world outside. 

As I drive home, I think of drives I have taken over the years. I grew up taking road trips. We did not fly as a family. We drove. The journey was just as fun as the destination. There have been many times in my life I have taken a drive. Driving just to drive. No destination. Just the journey. Time to reflect. Time to listen to music. Time to talk to a friend (Mish-I am talking to you). Time to be. Just be. 

I am leaving on Friday for a trip. It is a trip, not a vacation. I was reminded of this important difference this week. The difference between vacation and trip. Vacation is Cabo. Beach. Sun. Sand everywhere. Relaxing. Beautiful in its own right. A trip. This trip. This trip. It is my adventure and it begins tomorrow. Visiting cities I have only imagined visiting. Cities I have not yet explored but I already love. Likely have loved in past lives too. I have wanted to experience this for a lifetime it feels like. A dream that others have lived many times, again and again. Will I come back completely relaxed without a care? No. I will though come back rejevunated. I will come back with a perspective that is different than the one I have now, writing this, a few glass of wine in, listening to Whitely on Sonos, May 18 (Momoo's birthday-anoush pan), 2023.

My goal? My goal is not to see it all. I don't need to feel like I have a checklist I need to check off. My goal is not a perfect vacation. Perfect, you see, is the enemy of good. My goal is to live. To experience. To enjoy. To sit in a café and write. Observe people around me. Be the fly on that freaking centuries old cracked wall. Take it in. Carpe Diem. Soak it in. Soak in every particle of air. I don't need to see everything to say I have seen it. I just need to learn about another country, another culture. Again. It is the journey. The adventure. Not the destination. 

Will I be out of my comfort zone at times? Yes
Will I sometimes wish I was on my couch watching a movie or a basketball game? Yes
Will I wish my trip never ends? Yes, especially after I am home.

You know what? The best things happen when you go outside your comfort zone. Let me restate - when I go outside my comfort zone.  It may feel weird. It may be anxiety inducing. It may feel like you want to crawl into bed under the covers, all safe and warm. But I promise the BEST things come from trying. Just trying.  I sometimes feel uncomfortable in my skin. I know that is exposing, especially me being old, well, older at least. To feel the struggle. To actually appreciate the struggle. The struggle is what it is all about. In the end, it's that moment. THE moment. 

Time to put on Chanel by Frank Ocean and let's...get takeout. Blast the song. Even if you have never heard Frank Ocean before. Just put it on. Close your eyes and LISTEN. Take it in. And instead of cooking, order something that is something totally different than normal. Go out of your comfort zone. Live in the moment. BE THE MOMENT. 

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

craving the moment - the simple moment

 

-photo by Terry Clark

I am running. I am running in the dark at top speed. I need to stop. I need to look around me. I need to see what is in front of me, what is below me, what is in my path, what is even behind me. I need to look up too. But I can't. I am running. In the dark. At top speed. 

My breath is shallow. My breath is quick. My breath matches the thoughts that scream through my head. Go. Go. Go. Do. Do. Do. 

I know what I need to do. I know what I should do. Should. Should. Should. 

I crave that moment. You know the one I am talking about. The simple one. The one you can't curate. The one you can't make happen. The one that simply is. It sneaks up on you. Like looking over your shoulder and seeing the sun shed its brightness across the morning. Like hearing a new song for the first time and it hits you in a place that makes you turn up the volume and put it on repeat. Like making eye contact with a complete stranger and sharing a smile. Like being completely random and sending someone a gift who has no idea you exist because there is a toxic swirl in the air and you feel like maybe random acts of kindness can break the cycle. Like getting out of your car, seeing a flowering tree and walking over to smell its blooms. Like looking out and seeing nature do its own thing and being mystified by what you witness. It is the moment when you breathe a little more deeply, aware of your presence and your stillness. It can be fleeting. It can last longer. The connection when it happens? It is simply beautiful. 

I am reminded of what I wrote back in September and I share it again here. 

____________________________________________________

Writing in this way has been meaningful in ways that I don't think I can even put into words though meraki comes close. 

Writing helps me process. It allows me the freedom to feel as I do, not as I should. It is an outlet for the energy that feels trapped and unexpressed. It provides a creative escape for a piece of myself that does not feel comfortable in my space, my skin. It has allowed me to dream a bit and expand what may be and what is, instead of being constrained. I am not a trained writer but I do write from my heart. 

Some people have wondered why I put myself out there, why I allow my vulnerability to be on display. Some people have felt it is too self-focused while others call it helpful and are grateful to know they are not alone. I have heard both positive and negative reactions to this blog from many people and I have always appreciated the discourse.

My posts are but a moment in time and written to show another, maybe more honest side. I write to show that it is okay not to be happy all the time. Wearing my heart on my sleeve shows that sometimes thinking about hard things is a sign of strength, not weakness. I share the lonely parts to let people know that it is okay to feel. To let myself know that it is okay. To remind myself that I am okay. 

Social media has changed our world, and continues to change it, in so many different ways. It divides, it unites, it isolates, it connects, it bullies and it provides a voice. There is obviously significant research and there are many arguments about how it affects our psyche and the way we view and treat each other. To me, the world feels more cruel. Maybe we just know more, too much, about each other. The ways we treat each other passive aggressively instead of with compassionate intention. I read what people feel comfortable writing because they never have to say it to someone's face and am blown away by what I see at times. 

Social media can also create a false sense of accessibility and I have most definitely fallen into that trap on more than one occasion. For someone like me who thrives on connection, I have reached out in ways I am not proud of and have done so knowing that I will certainly be rejected, maybe feeling in a way that I deserve to be rejected.  

Appreciate. Learn. Love. Apply. 

We adapt. We grow with change and transition. Experiences build upon each other and provide us with strength. They fill us up. They inspire and they provide hope. 

So, go out there and feel today. Feel it all. The highs and the lows. Allow the tears but don't forget to laugh along the way, and laugh hard. A real belly laugh. Hold onto something hard when you need to feel grounded and take a minute to look at our beautiful sky. Dance alone. Dance with other people. Really feel the music. Find art in the every day. Make a beautiful and colorful meal (click here for meal index). Be spontaneous. Figure out something you can do to make the world better, brighter, kinder and realize that we all play a part. Find compassion for yourself and others. Find empathy for yourself and others. Create a safe space for someone to be themselves while creating a safe space for you to be yourself. Be inclusive and collaborative. Celebrate differences and seek similarities. We are here together as ourselves once and we need to make it count. Connect to yourself so that you can connect more deeply with others. Just be. 

Put on Lovin' Me by Kid Cudi ft. Phoebe Bridgers and let's get cooking. 

Butternut Salad with Farro, Pepitas and Ricotta Salata - Smitten Kitchen
1 medium butternut squash (about two pounds) (OR buy it already cubed for a faster dinner prep)
5-6 T olive oil, divided
salt and pepper to taste
1 cup semi-pearled farro (This is everywhere now, even in instant form. Follow cooking directions on box.)
1/3 cup toasted pepitas
3 oz ricotta salata or another salty cheese, crumbled (about 3/4 cup) (Traders has this)
1 T sherry vinegar
1 T water
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp sugar
1/2 small red onion, finely chopped

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Peel squash, then halve lengthwise and scoop out seeds. Cut squash into approx. 3/4 inch chunks. ORCoat a baking sheet with 2 T oil. Spread squash into a single layer. Sprinkle with S&P and roast until pieces are tender, about 30-40 minutes, turning them over halfway through the cooking time. Set aside.

While squash is roasting, cook farro in a large part of simmering salted water until grains are tender but chewy, about 30 minutes. (Again, so many varieties now, so defer to package. I have cooked in chicken or vegetable broth too.) Drain and cool slightly.

While squash is roasting and farro is simmering, in a small bowl, whisk together sherry vinegar, water, 1/2 tsp salt and 1/2 tsp sugar until salt and sugar dissolve. Stir in red onion. It will be barely covered by mixture but don't worry. Cover and set in fridge until needed. 30 minutes is ideal but less time is fine too. (I sometimes do this first)

In a large bowl, mix squash, farro, red onion and its vinegar brine, crumbled cheese and pepitas. Toss with 3 T of remaining oil (use a 4th if needed). Taste and adjust seasonings if needed. Keeps in frig up to a week.

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

136/135: Mourning Dad

 Appendix

John W. Jacob (Jack)
October 13, 1939 - October 19, 2022

A week ago almost exactly, my dad passed away. I was with him when he took his last breath. That was a true gift for me and I will forever be grateful for that moment. Dad lived a very full life but as many of you may know his last 10+ years were spent battling Alzheimer's. His quality of life at the end was not what anyone would have wanted and I am relieved he is no longer living in that cage. He has been dying for a long time really. In truth, I have been mourning him for a long time. The dad I knew has not been present for a long time really. The finality though. That is much harder than I realized it would be. 

A week ago at this moment, Dad's breathing changed. I could tell that he had taken a turn. I had just put away the chair/bed and gotten dressed and ready for the day in his room at hospice. I reached out to my family and to the nurse. I was with him and realized that this was it.  I stopped trying to reach my family and put down my phone. I spoke to him and let him know that we were all going to be okay and he could finally be at peace. He had done an amazing job and I thanked him for absolutely everything. I don't know if he heard me. I don't know if he was even there at that point. But I hope he knew that a loving presence was there with him on behalf of everyone who loved him and that he did not die alone. A week ago at this exact time, my dad passed away. On my daughter's birthday. 

We had been to a wedding that weekend in Vermont. It was a celebration and it was amazing to spend time with family in a stunning setting. To see the fall colors, to witness the beginning of a new family and to simply just be together. I met some amazing people. I danced like nobody was watching. I reconnected and laughed like I hadn't in a long time. What a high! 

On Sunday, we were eating at the bar at Pizzeria Regina in Boston. A favorite. Pizza and beer. Patriots on TV. Grateful for the time before our plane took us back to Charlotte. Then, my brother called. We flew to DC instead. And the unexpected though expected occurred. 

But you know what? Different circumstances. Different family. Different reasons. Same reconnecting. We experienced something together. Same laughter at times. Same celebration of a cherished person. 

My brother gave a really beautiful eulogy. It captured the essence of Dad in a way I didn't think was possible. I have never been more proud of my brother than in that very moment. As a natural leader with an incredible presence, he gave our family the biggest gift by standing up there and expressing in that beautiful chapel what Dad gave to this world and to the people he loved. John had asked family and close friends to provide their thoughts about Dad and the common themes that came through during those descriptions were remarkable really. Touching to say the least. 

John's memoir also made me realize something. Even when Dad wasn't really speaking or speaking very little. Even when aspects of his personality changed with the advancing of his disease. Even when he no longer walked on his own. Even when he didn't know who we were. He was still Dad. He still said he loved us. He still shook our hand firmly. He still said he was happy. He still hung on and remained strong. Till the very end. The essence of Dad never left, even when so much of him had been stripped away. 

So, we celebrated. We honored. We reminisced. We were simply together. We saw people from all aspects of my dad's life in one place with the common thread of loving him. It was overwhelmingly moving and beautiful. To see friends and family I had not seen in years. To see my first grade, third grade, sixth grade, high school physics teachers and my field hockey coach.  To see people who drove from long distances to be there if only for an hour or two. All for Dad. Words won't ever express what that meant. He would have absolutely loved that most of all. Seeing everyone together. And to everyone who has reached out or responded (and still are), that means so much. It allows me to see how Dad affected those around him and it helped me remember the Dad that was before Alzheimer's and that was perhaps the greatest gift of all. 

Dad was simply a great man. He lived an intentional life. He chose a career where he could be part of a real community. He cherished his family and his wife more than anything. His lessons were countless. He was kind and loving. He was generous in every way and he made the world better by simply being in it. I will miss him more than I can express. I love you, Dad. You did an amazing job and now you can rest in peace. 

As I said in my last post, go out there and feel today. Feel it all. The highs and the lows. Allow the tears but don't forget to laugh along the way, and laugh hard. A real belly laugh. Hold onto something hard when you need to feel grounded and take a minute to look at our beautiful sky. Dance alone. Dance with other people. Really feel the music. Find art in the every day. Make a beautiful and colorful meal (click here for meal index). Be spontaneous. Figure out something you can do to make the world better, brighter, kinder and realize that we all play a part. Find compassion for yourself and others. Find empathy for yourself and others. Create a safe space for someone to be themselves while creating a safe space for you to be yourself. Be inclusive and collaborative. Celebrate differences and seek similarities. We are here together as ourselves once and we need to make it count. Connect to yourself so that you can connect more deeply with others. Just be. 

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always.

Amy

My final post-135/135

 

Me.

September. 

Fall. 

Summer begins to close as trees start to signal a shift and the air I breathe begins to have a crispness in smell and feel. 

The familiarity of the season begins even as the temperatures stay warm. 

Summer tries to remain even as the lighting and the sky shift ever so slightly. 

Time moves forward but soon will step back. Darkness arrives as a blanket, comforting me into autumn. 

Transition. Shift. Change.  

Appreciate. Love. Learn. Apply.

I went to the beach for the day this past weekend. The beach has always been a special place for me. The memories of going to different beaches span my entire life. It is a constant. It is a reminder that the world is vast, the tides will continue and the waves will come to shore long after I am gone. 

Writing in this way has been meaningful in ways that I don't think I can even put into words though meraki comes close. 

Writing helps me process. It allows me the freedom to feel as I do, not as I should. It is an outlet for the energy that feels trapped and unexpressed. It provides a creative escape for a piece of myself that does not feel comfortable in my space, my skin. It has allowed me to dream a bit and expand what may be and what is, instead of being constrained. I am not a trained writer but I do write from my heart. 

Some people have wondered why I put myself out there, why I allow my vulnerability to be on display. Some people have felt it is too self-focused while others call it helpful and are grateful to know they are not alone. I have heard both positive and negative reactions to this blog from many people and I have always appreciated the discourse.

My posts are but a moment in time and written to show another, maybe more honest side. I write to show that it is okay not to be happy all the time. Wearing my heart on my sleeve shows that sometimes thinking about hard things is a sign of strength, not weakness. I share the lonely parts to let people know that it is okay to feel. To let myself know that it is okay. To remind myself that I am okay. 

Social media has changed our world, and continues to change it, in so many different ways. It divides, it unites, it isolates, it connects, it bullies and it provides a voice. There is obviously significant research and there are many arguments about how it affects our psyche and the way we view and treat each other. To me, the world feels more cruel. Maybe we just know more, too much, about each other. The ways we treat each other passive aggressively instead of with compassionate intention. I read what people feel comfortable writing because they never have to say it to someone's face and am blown away by what I see at times. 

Social media can also create a false sense of accessibility and I have most definitely fallen into that trap on more than one occasion. For someone like me who thrives on connection, I have reached out in ways I am not proud of and have done so knowing that I will certainly be rejected, maybe feeling in a way that I deserve to be rejected.  

Appreciate. Learn. Love. Apply. 

We adapt. We grow with change and transition. Experiences build upon each other and provide us with strength. They fill us up. They inspire and they provide hope. 

So, go out there and feel today. Feel it all. The highs and the lows. Allow the tears but don't forget to laugh along the way, and laugh hard. A real belly laugh. Hold onto something hard when you need to feel grounded and take a minute to look at our beautiful sky. Dance alone. Dance with other people. Really feel the music. Find art in the every day. Make a beautiful and colorful meal (click here for meal index). Be spontaneous. Figure out something you can do to make the world better, brighter, kinder and realize that we all play a part. Find compassion for yourself and others. Find empathy for yourself and others. Create a safe space for someone to be themselves while creating a safe space for you to be yourself. Be inclusive and collaborative. Celebrate differences and seek similarities. We are here together as ourselves once and we need to make it count. Connect to yourself so that you can connect more deeply with others. Just be. 

As always, here is some music. Music saves me. I feel its absence when I don't listen and it adds to my world. Every. Single. Day. 

Current Playlist - best played in the morning 

What They'll Say About Us - Finneas

Red Eye (feat. Haim) - Kid Cudi

Homecoming (feat. Chris Martin) - Ye

Dark Red - Steve Lacy

Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish

Lovin' Me (feat. Phoebe Bridgers) - Kid Cudi

Funeral - Phoebe Bridgers

More Than Life - Whitley

Preoccupied - Tarune

Song for the Waiting - Aron Wright

Rise - Eddie Vedder

Mystery of Love - Sufjan Stevens

Naked - Finneas

Underwater - Rufus Du Sol

Many Times - Dijon

I Come Apart (feat. Florence Welch) - A$AP Rocky

Guillotine (feat. Travis Medes) - Jon Bellion

Comin Out Strong (feat. The Weekend) - Future

White Ferrari - Frank Ocean

love. - Kid Cudi

Oh, Me (Live Acoustic) - Nirvana

Rich Man - Vampire Weekend

Friday I'm in Love - The Cure

N95 - Kendrick Lamar

The Motto - Tiesto & Ava Max

Take Me - Rufus Du Sol

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading.  

mwah.

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always.

COVID sucks

 

Made it two years. Never diagnosed. Exposed to it. Surrounded by it. Took care of people with it. Never got it. Vaccinated. Boosted. Tested.

Till now.

Yes. I was bragging that I had never gotten Covid.
Yes. I was bragging that I never get sick. 

The next day? I got sick. 

One year on November 30, I spent some time with my beautiful newborn niece. She was about 8 weeks old and very uncomfortable. Colic. Like, bad, bad colic. We brought food and had dinner, taking turns holding the baby girl. The only time she stopped crying over the 2-3 hours was when she laid on my very pregnant belly. Draped over me on the couch, we joked that she and the baby inside me were silently communicating to one another. I did not move for 45 minutes because everyone was quiet. Finally. I was due on December 31. I walked out of their house that night, looked at Kelley and said, "Thank god we have another month because I am so not ready for this parenting thing."

My water broke at 6:30 a.m. the next morning. 

Yes, I am at a crossroads in my life. Yes, growing pains abound. That said, isn't it when you are in these moments that things can become more clear? We all have these moments. At several times in our lives. Some are pronounced and some slide under the radar. Some demand to be acknowledged and some are pushed away - denial isn't just a river in Eygpt (iykyk).

It has been raining for what feels like weeks. It is gray. It is gloomy. 

Covid is making me pause. Covid is making me reflect. Covid is making me sleep, and sleep A LOT. So much of social media is about showing how happy and good everything is. All the freaking time. You know what? Life is not great all of the time and that is A-OK! 

What happens when it stops raining? What happens after sleeping for hours on end? What happens when you stop after going through the motions of life for a bit? 

I wake UP! 

The edges become a little more vivid. The dreams become a little more real. The goals become a little more structured. The emptiness inside slowly gets refilled. The cycle continues.

Life is just a give and take. It is a paradox. Life just is. And it is amazing just to celebrate that fact. Relish in all of its moments. Happy, sad, growing, quiet, loud, laughing, simple and complex. Moments.

Time to put on More Than Life by Whitley and let's get cooking. 

Tacos. Yes, tacos. I love that the video makes it seem like it takes 3 minutes to make but it is worth every minute longer than 3 minutes. Have made with ground beef and chicken. Liked chicken better but honestly, the tortillas made this meal. Yes, it is an Instagram video. 

thefoodie.101

Yes, it was delicious. Enjoy! 

Pulled Chicken Taco Recipe

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

Amy

A week later.

A week later. 

So much has changed yet so much is also the same. 

And yes, it is Sunday. Sunday. 

1000 miles traveled. A huge piece of me left behind. An empty feeling persists. Upon my return, a quieter house than even expected. Tears spontaneously form randomly. But. But. Underneath, a feeling. A feeling that this is right. This is the way it is supposed to go. A feeling that this is just a beginning for Sage, oh the places she will go and I can't wait to witness what is to come and how she will attack this next chapter of her life. Feeling confidence in her being. 

Letting go is hard. It hurts in a way that I can't even put into words. 

Once again, I look to other languages to find the essence of what I am feeling. 

This is a beginning for me too. I know it is but that is just going to take a little more time. I'll get there, I will. 

Time. 

I am strong. I am really okay. This is just a piece of me. A piece of what I carry. I use all of my experiences to make me a better person, a more complete person, a more feeling person. So I put myself out there. I am honest. And I remember that I am made of many parts. 

Time. 

There is a bus stop near my house and a woman has been living in it for the past several months. I check on her and have come to make it part of my routine to do so. I have mentioned her before. This past week I was driving to work and as usual, drove by this bus stop. Something looked different and then I realized immediately. I put on the breaks and pulled over. It was gone. The bus stop. The woman. Missing. Nothing left. No traces. As if it and she were never there in the first place. My heart missed a beat. My mind started darting rapidly. A shaky feeling overcame me and a lump in my throat formed. Where was the structure? Where was the woman living there? Did they remove the bus stop because someone was living there? She was displaced, made more invisible than before, if that was even possible. Is she okay?  

Each one of us has our own unique experience, our own journey, our own challenges, our own history. There is no one right path and there are many, many bumps along the way. In the end it is not judgment, criticism, blame, or comparing that gets us through. It is pure love, kindness and compassion, with a dose of laughter. We are all human and you'd be surprised at how far a little love, a little kindness, a little compassion will take you. For yourself and for others, at all ages. And if you need to hate something, hate the hate in the world. Peace. 

Time to listen to I Come Apart by A$AP Rocky (featuring Florence Welch) and go do something strictly for you. Read a book. Go for a walk. Cook your favorite meal. Have cocktails with friends. Sit outside and listen to the noises around you. Listen to your favorite playlist. 

Me? 

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always.

-Amy