{ 10 / 10 / 17 }

signal

wave across the water for me

let me know

that you'll be waiting ever for me

oh, i've been travelling

waiting for a moment of peace

these stormy weathers

got me thinking of how i want it to be

signal

light a thousand fires on me

give me no doubt

that i'm the one that never has to leave

oh, i've been divided

time and time again you keep the peace

give me shelter

let me be the (wo)man i wanted to be

//

everyone is in the back room taking their lunch and i'm sitting at my desk with a 140-calorie bag of popcorn and saint-saens in my headphones. somehow, even more things have to change.

//

at this stage, that seems like such an unlikely outcome.
but at this stage, any outcome would be as unlikely as the next.
what do you do when you really have no way of predicting an outcome?
you have no choice but to keep walking forward.
to watch the infrastructure of the future come together all around you.

i can't say i like it all that much, but the alternative is to stop moving until something seems certain...and i feel like the only certainty in life is that nothing is certain. ever.

i've had my time not to move.
and i don't want that anymore.

//

feeling many things in this season:
nothing is sure
nothing is forever
i can and should make choices that are healthy for me
^ people may not like how they are affected when i do so
   ^ that is not my problem
it is okay not to know
it is okay to let go
it is okay to say no
it is okay to let my true self show
i am stronger and deeper than anyone really knows
i can change and evolve; i don't have to stay the same
i might not be interesting enough for some people but that doesn't make me uninteresting
i might not be beautiful enough for some people but that doesn't make me ugly
i might be too interesting for some people but that doesn't mean i'm too much
i might be too much for some people but that doesn't make them bad people







//

embracing the new,
the fresh start,
the leaving what was,
the lack of knowing,
the exploration, the putting to rest, the discovery.

{ first time in a long time }

a friend pointed out to me recently that i haven't posted here in, ahem, quite some time. i replied with something self-deprecating, like "my extensive readership of 2.3 people are probably really struggling to function without my neurotic ramblings." the truth is, sometimes life is so blissfully normal that there's nothing to write about. and sometimes life is so profoundly stressful that there's plenty to write about but no time or energy to do so.

so i'm sitting here at my desk furtively eating strawberries and blogging for the first time in 6 months. that about sums it up.

//

maybe everyone feels like this, but i often feel like i'm in a position to comfort and counsel and advise and kick peoples' asses. this sounds like a great position to hold, and it sort of is, but it's also a position that carries a shit ton of weight and responsibility. sometimes i'm totally up to handle it. sometimes i resent it and wonder why everyone who seems to have it all still needs my help to be happy. most of the time i wonder why the hell other people want my opinion about the very important things in their lives. i mean, who am i? what do i know? and why does anyone care what i think?

my korean name translates to "jewel of wisdom."
maybe this is the answer to those questions.

//

the thing i have to be careful about is pouring so much of myself into helping other people examine and enjoy and fix their lives that i have nothing left over for myself. that's always been the problem. in a way it makes sense, since it's much easier to see and speak to someone else's life than one's own. i think that's human nature. but it's a part of human nature worth paying attention to and managing. i'm prone to burnout because i want to do the best and please people the most. and, it feels stingy to conserve energy for myself.

because isn't it more noble to be selfless?
to sacrifice my own comfort for the good of another?
to give myself wholeheartedly to lift someone up?

it feels sort of wrong to turn off my phone for the night because i can't take one more text message, one more point of contact, one more need. to make myself unavailable and inaccessible. but i'm realizing i need to cut off access before i'm running on fumes --- not only to cut down on my resentment of people, but because what's the point of giving time to myself if i don't have any resources to draw upon?

//

this is why i don't "blog" --- because it's boring.
it's my endless internal processing and doesn't benefit anyone but me.
it's possible that blogging is the epitome of selfishness.
so on second thought, perhaps i should do it more often.

strawberries are done,
patients are due in,
paperwork is waiting.

back to giving my all to the day, though now i think i'll drop a few coins into my pocket and leave them there, not to be spent. they will be saved for the end of the day when all the other voices have died down. they will clink and shine, untouched and extravagant, for me and me alone.

{ days go by }

1. { day twenty-five || joy }, 2. { day twenty-six || dogwood days }, 3. { day twenty-seven || car flats }

i can hardly believe i'm almost at the end of these thirty thankful days. i think i'll be processing the things i've realized / learned / felt for days to come (and i think being intentional about cataloging them is an important part of the project), but what still strikes me most is how easy it is not to mindlessly spend money once the pattern of behavior has been redirected.

i'm going to to a recap post next week, so i'll keep my words to a minimum now even though i definitely have more to say. it's been a busy week and i'm working on replacing other perhaps-not-constructive habits with more life-giving activities. it's slow going. i am a creature of familiarity, even if that means i sometimes linger in situations that have long worn through.

on the way up this mountain though, this week i have:
1. held a 20-hour old baby boy...miraculous!
2. worn way too much of my favorite color and felt marvelous all the while.
3. seen avengers for the second time while sipping a margarita...yes, in the theater!

what have you been up to?
she

{ these shoes were made for... }

skipping

stomping

rioting

partying

kicking shins

going someplace

sometimes you see a thing

you simply have to have.

know what i mean?

these coral dreamsicles

were just that kind of thing.

call me pitiful, but these coney-heeled, butter-suede, make-you-blink shoes are totally making my tuesday. that and the six starbursts i've just eaten. candy and shoes are all i need...who knew the formula to happiness was so elemental?

things i've learned today:

1. blue cross blue shield does not allow a gingivectomy and porcelain ceramic crown to be performed on the same tooth on the same day.
2. the seven years i spent in oncology equipped me to capably comfort people without being comfortable. the grief of others is so heavy. but somehow, i can carry it. i got to hug a woman today who lost her husband unexpectedly. i was not daunted by her tears. rather, i rose to meet her in that place and stood beside her for awhile. i felt my purpose on that hillside, in the honored presence of a loved one's deep and firmly grasped memory.
3. working in an office with not one male employee often feels like living in a sorority: there's a lot more crying, dieting, and discussion of each others' menstrual cycles than i'm ever happy with. BLEH.

questions i have:

1. why don't (straight, available) men ever want the brightest bird in the rainforest? everyone seems to want the more docile, more blend-able specimens. easier to tame, i suppose.
2. why is it so hard for me to speak up sometimes, as assertive as i am?
3. when will i get over it?

keep on learning. keep on asking.

she

{ life's unraveling richter scale }

crystalline

internal nebula 

{ bjork }

all the layers and textures of life, hanging in one cosmic closet. it's enough to make you close your eyes in surrender just to feel it all, in hopes of not missing a thing . . .

it strikes me that in my own closet, some of the colors and textiles coordinate well, almost effortlessly. others work together only after i forge a new combination. and others seem to never work, outcast pieces that can only be worn a certain way on certain days. still others war with one another, refusing to collaborate. sometimes the smoother pieces get wrinkled and scratched by the ones with more personality...

i feel like the pieces of my life are catching on each other, a loose thread there grabbing hold of a collar here, a sleeve, a hem. it all feels so rough and messy. i don't know how to order things so they don't rip and flaw each other. i want all the tectonics to get along down to their faultlines, no jarring and certainly no conflict foundational enough to register at the surface. but that's not how life (or a closet) is.

even though i've known for a long time that it's the imperfections of life that keep things interesting (and growing), it's still difficult to accept sometimes.

she

{ tout, tout }

i don't feel like i really have a grip on anything, any

of you, floating out there in the distant universe with 

your very own troubles, your husbands, your children,

your houses, your secret thoughts and daily rituals.

i don't feel like there's any room in my mind to remember most things, like [ paying bills charging cell phone setting alarm sending letter cleaning pantry folding laundry making bed finding paper birthdays bad events flight details due dates boundaries forestry unicorns text message 140 characters voicemail different route no more new shoes ] . . .

. . . like everything.

i've spent too long worrying about every leading-up moment and analyzing every post-thing moment that all i want to do is be in this moment. but then [ everything else ] falls away and i enjoy myself but the rest of life is hell because i neglected to remember this or that or the other thing or, well, everything.

balance has never really been my thing. and maybe it's just as well that i'm as imperfect on the outside as i am on the inside. it feels honest. i feel like a mess. but i feel like i really am what i appear, in some ways. i don't think people will ever understand me wholly as i truly am, but i no longer think that's the point of relationship. to be known perfectly is possible in a realm beyond this one. if the people i'm in relationship with are any bit as flawed as i am, i could never expect them to completely understand me.

to see, and to be seen:

i think this is the point of relationship.

and not to compare, but to perceive of oneself with regard to another.

"she is here and i am here."

"here" is two different things to her and me.

but we are both there. we both have a corner of here.

somehow these ideas of mine are nonsensical to the point of being simple. and i think this time it's perfectly all right that they may make sense only to me.

she

{ more of the afterward }

i have run through the fields

only to be with you

only to be with you

would you?

i've often asked the most impossible question in order to procure the answer i knew was coming: no. i can't. i don't want to. i don't want you. some people feel storms coming in their bones; i can sense abandonment from miles away. a shadow in the marrow of my days, the smallest lesion on each embrace. and before i knew it, he was gone ---

abandonments are like hurricanes --- they follow certain patterns, you prepare as much as you can, but each one cuts a wider path of destruction than the last. i've mapped each one in minute detail. i've felt them approaching but chosen to believe that certainly the same bolt wouldn't strike the same girl twice, through the upper right chamber of the heart, just missing the liver, fracturing the seventh rib, traveling down the length of the left leg before blasting a hole in the ground big enough to get lost in for weeks, months, years...

this is all old psychology, we've been over it. you don't know anything about it, and you shouldn't have to. because a desirable woman throws no shadows, she is tall and full of light, without jammed doors or grimy windows. also, she's thin and domestically inclined. she never buys silk scarves on impulse. she is best friends with her mother. she can bake a pie in her sleep and she never asks too much.

make the choice. make the
choice. make

the choice.

we both know what direction you're going, and it's the only direction i know from everywhere i've stood: away. on this side of it all, i always think i want to see that face again, but i'm beginning to believe that's because everyone seems so much more necessary when they're walking away. even now if you turned around, i'm not sure you'd look anything like the irresistibly broken person i remember.

i don't know how to escape this, but i'm leaving.
i don't know how to get better, but i'm getting out of bed.
i don't know if i'll ever be the same, but i'm not sure i'd want to anyway.

with everything ---
she

{ i want one...but what do i want? }

king charles spaniel puppy spotted here

i think king charlies have the sweetest faces in all of dogdom. or one of the sweetest faces, anyway. my friends have a KC named Finnegan. it is quite. precious.

in other news, if i could have a dollar (no nickels and dimes for this princess) for every time my boss sat on the phone with some company or another trying to get access to his personal online accounts because he's forgotten his username or password . . . then i wouldn't have to sit at any job listening to any boss fumble around with anything. my current boss is quite unashamed to conduct copious amounts of personal business in plain view. i think i'm experiencing the difference between working for a medical corporation and working for a guy who owns his own practice . . . his time is worth top dollar (as he never fails to remind me) and apparently he has the right to spend it however he wants as a result.

--- but back to puppies and other such things ---

i've been doing some thinking (and dreaming and crying) about what the heck i'm doing with my life. about the difference between where i am and where i want to be. about whether or not we ever completely close that gap between how things are and how we wish they were. about how that gap just might be the thing that keeps us moving onward and upward. about the availability and elusiveness of happiness. about what's involved in the concept of happiness for me. about love, loss, and regret. about what it costs to leave, and what it costs to be left behind. about all the unsung poetry in my mind --- no matter how much of my voice i've found in the past few years, there are registers of the soul's vocal range that i've yet to exercise.

so how to take off? how to start singing? how to stay in a place i feel called to and trapped in all at once? i'm coming to terms with the fact that i'm not a person who functions well on big bold moves and risky maneuvers . . . and while that makes me feel dowdy, unadventurous, and stunted compared to people who seem quite able to take outrageous leaps in life without much difficulty or prolonged regard for potential consequences, it's simply who i am. that doesn't mean i'm automatically exempt from ever going out on a limb. it just means that while i'm on my own with lots of freedom, i'm also on my own and ultimately it's me that's going to take care of me. i don't have a spouse's income to fall back on. i'm not a "sweet, i'll just crash on your couch for a few months" person. i am the sole provider for myself. i am my own financial security and health benefits. i am my own future, my own down payment, my own retirement. it's just me. and while i have dear friends and family who support me in many ways --- when tax time comes, no one's claiming me. i'm on my own.

i think it's romantic, exciting, and attractive to say we'd take the leap (whatever leap that may be) without a safety net if our heart was drawn to it. i think that kind of life --- an open, at-the-ready, ever-inspired existence --- is what we're conditioned to think is desirable. isn't that at the heart of every single frickin' romcom ever made?? follow your heart. take the big risk. blurt your secret. now that's really living.

but what about those of us who have taken risks and not been rewarded? forget the sting of history --- what about those of us who simply require a little more safety to be built into our lives than the freer spirits of the world?

what about us?

for me, it's a hard thing to find . . . the balance between accepting that part of me that thrives with a little safety, and staying too long in a safe place.

the colors & collections of she

that's a glimpse into my heart today, friends. i think for now i have to do with these thoughts what i do with my small but precious possessions (the nail polish, the parfums, the rings, the lipsticks, the moleskines, the plates and bowls). collect them, arrange them, look at them, become accustomed to their placement. pick them up from time to time, rearrange them, turn them over in my hands. forget about them, worry them, compose them.

as far as what action arises from these tumbling, precious thoughts?
i haven't the slightest idea.

she

{ les pensees }

image found here

y'know, things are strange lately. i mean, when are things not strange? but lately they're a different kind of strange. i feel like i'm standing in the trees surrounding some sort of lagoon (what a great word). as i look out over the surface of the water, everything seems so still. but underneath i can feel something stirring --- the restlessness of a deep sea, the impending storm of change. i dream about the rain pelting my face only to wake up in tears --- or is my face dry in real life and i'm crying in my sleep? it's hard to tell anymore.

because words tend to fail at times like these (and as a writer and poet you know what it takes for me to admit such a thing), i will now make a list of things i'd like to do. totally logical, right?

1. i'd like to say "lagoon" more often.
2. i'd like to learn how to make good coffee. maybe one day i'll have a french press.
3. i'd like to eat out less.

you know, i'm going to stop myself there. because while lists are really good for breaking life down into more manageable portions, if they get too long that sorta defeats that purpose. but one more thing: i'd like to learn how to be myself better. and then i'd like to love that self a little better too.

as for the whole wordlessness thing, i'm just remembering that t.s. eliot says that is what most art aspires to. i wish i could employ the internet to provide you with an exact reference for that right now, but i'm blogging on the sly at work and i think the rapidfire sound of my typing has already aroused suspicion. basically i'm just reminding myself that ultimately, the most profound things i've experienced usually leave me silent and wide-eyed in the best way. so a lack of words must mean something's afoot. today i'm going to believe that something is something good.

xoxo
she

right now

where i stand || she

i can't get this picture to upload correctly. if you follow the link to its flickr page, you'll be able to see its intended orientation, but for whatever reason, it keeps flipping itself in blogger. after 3 or 4 failed attempts, i will leave it alone. i will not begin to curse technology, and inevitably, everything else in life that tends to go awry for no apparent reason. i will accept this inexplicable strangeness as whimsy and move on.

my "professional" life is winding down and ramping up at the same time; 3 offers for potential employment in as many weeks have my head spinning. this whole "figure out what you're supposed to be doing with your life" thing isn't easy for some of us. i mean, i feel a divine completeness when i sing, but making a living by making music isn't as attainable as i'd like it to be. and if i want to pursue an artistic life, it's likely i'll have to maintain a day job. and my day job might have NOTHING to do with my art. and while that makes me feel a little bit like i'm living a double life,

a.) i've always admired Sidney Bristow
b.) the secretary-by-day, sensation-by-night concept is kinda fun.

in any case, i'm feeling a little disoriented, a little lost, a little puzzled. it's been awhile since i've felt this way about the tangible aspects of life; i think i've always felt these things inwardly to some degree. and that is why i write. to find myself . . . to build a home of words. but because life is what it is, that home is always changing, relocating, taking on new colors and corridors. i am never at home in one place for very long. my thoughts move - my words adopt new rhythms - the landscape undulates. perhaps this is one of the difficult things about being an artist: we feel solidly at home in what we do. but since what we do reflects what we see and experience, and since those things are always changing, there is a nomadic element to being at home in what we do.

how do i stay standing in an ivory boat
that is pitching and lunging on a turbulent sea?

maybe that's the point.
we're not meant to stand.
life is about falling,
about how it feels to be dislodged on the way down
and what we see as we get back up. however slowly.

then here's to standing and falling in turn,
and grace no matter which one we find ourselves doing.

|| thursday, with a hint of thunder

dance || grain and silk

what a strange week it's been. (side note: the older i get, the more often i say that. perhaps it's just that all of life is strange.) the torrential autumn storms and accompanying gale-force winds have turned the trees inside-out and planted a restlessness in my thoughts. i haven't even been that busy this week schedule-wise, but my mind still feels exhausted. too much activity inside.

i'm engaging in a continuing effort to simplify so that when i do things i love, i can actually enjoy them instead of feeling overwhelmed with the decisions and planning that are involved. i want to be able to absorb the soul nutrition that comes from things instead of chewing on them by rote.

i'm also struggling to figure out how to constructively handle all the relationships in my life. i don't need to be a best friend to everyone; i don't need to say "yes" to everyone who WANTS to be a best friend of mine. if i can't give everyone everything he or she wants or needs, it doesn't make me a bad friend or a bad person. and that's just the time factor. what about when i start to feel like someone is starting to dress like me, talk like me, cling to me too closely? my instinct is to recoil: i don't want my essence pilfered, and i don't want to stand in the way of someone finding her own true self. so how do i step out of the way and propel people further down the path of their own self discovery?

life and relationships are tricky.
female friendships welcome comparison,
envy, competition. i'm not a fan.
i'd rather be a lone wolf than deal with that.
but as thrilling as independence is,
there's richness in community too.

it strikes me that independence is both the harder and the easier road to travel; easy because when i am alone, i don't have to rub shoulders with other people or their issues (some people have really bony shoulders, if you know what i mean). hard because it means i'm always face-to-face with myself and my weaknesses, shortcomings, disappointment, hope.

more than ever i feel safe being alone in a group. i'm swirling in the collective glass of social activity, but i'm at liberty to come and go as i wish. i don't have to remain tethered to anyone. i am only me; no one can ride the coattails of my effervescence, and my gestures and style are attributed singly to whom they belong. but at the end of the night, i drive home alone.

i don't really know what i'm trying to say.

a desire has been ignited in me: for freedom. for an unabashedness. for simplicity, for the ability not to inject too much gravity into situations. i want to live unfettered. i want to take things only as seriously as they need to be taken and let go of the rest. because i've been carrying some things, some subconscious postures of the heart, that have been silently siphoning my vibrancy and my joy.

there it is. that last paragraph.
i want my true strength and vitality back.

i want to shimmer and sway as i orbit the sun
i want you to have to cover your eyes
but not be able to stop watching

these are the stormy dreams of a girl
brewing in a fist of clouds

what day is it?

having been out of town and skipping around these past couple weeks, i have to put way more effort than usual into knowing what day it is. my month so far:

oct. 3-4: last hurrah weekend with another moving-away-soon friend
oct. 5-9: atlanta
oct. 15-17: wisconsin

and there goes october. how is it the 4th weekend of this month already? this is slightly dismaying. my patients have always told me that time only goes more quickly as you get older. i never really imagined this was possible, but after 7 years of hearing this from them, i'm beginning to see exactly what they mean.

however, after being subject to this phenomenon (that of time flying) for so long, after feeling overrun by my own schedule and so permanently ADD about life, i'm ready for a change.

i want to be a person who is present. i want to be a person who can have a conversation with whoever i'm face-to-face with, WITHOUT having seventeen balloons floating out the backside of my head pulling my brain in that many different directions. i want to actually feel rested after time spent resting, not more frantic and more guilty about not having spent that time doing something more "productive."

this means some thoughtful and intentional change in my life, but i'm tired of being overly active and then completely checking out when i become so exhausted that i'm forced to slow down. i don't think i'm going to achieve total balance overnight --- in fact, i fully expect this change to take weeks, maybe months. i expect to relapse. but i also know that this is what i'm supposed to be doing in this season of my life. i'm not supposed to fill my every waking hour with activity and commitments because i'm not married and i don't have kids, and by gosh if i can't contribute something to the world in THOSE ways, i need to kick it up and earn my keep on this earth.

no.
that's not it.

and like so many times before, my eyes have been recently opened (quite widely) to the fact that i've subconsciously adopted truths about life and myself that are false. it's like having a cold glass of water thrown in my face --- both shocking and refreshing. i am awake.

_______________


sooooo, that's enough heavy ponderous life news for now . . . how about i share some things i love with you before we go?

i LOVE it when blogs do a "what's in your handbag?" feature. somehow i think the more mundane, less artsy things (old receipts, travel packs of kleenex) get edited out, but it's delightful nonetheless! {more on what's in this particular bag here}

i LOVE this coat, and those shoes . . . and the sweeping, glamorous, in-midstep feel of this photo. somehow it strikes me as powerful and vulnerable all at once. {more from this shoot here}

okay. off to take in the rest of this day,

That's It.

She Is
Exhausted.

{ Reasons }
Traveling
Never Fully Unpacking, Thus:
Having To Frantically Search For Clothes Every Morning
No Nocturnal Discipline (i.e. Too-Late Nights)
Excellent Late-Night Phone Calls
More Traveling On The Horizon
Difficulty Sitting Still
Perpetual Activity
A Growing Affinity For Sugar & Caffeine

Ugh.
I'm So Tired I'm Capitalizing Every Single Word!!! Something Is Surely Wrong. Now My Right Pinky Finger Hurts. And I Just Realized I Only Use The Shift Key With My Right Pinky, Even If The Letter I'm Capitalizing Is Typed With My Right Hand. Ack!!!

|| from The Muse; from Toast ||

okay, that was just obnoxious. my apologies.

some sweet things that have happened this week, like, really sweet things:

1. i was a house guest last week, and upon walking into the house, my hostess pointed out an Anthropologie catalogue on her kitchen table. "i've been saving that for you," she said with bright eyes. i've spent about 10 days with this woman total over the past 3 years, and she saved an Anthro catalogue for me. how sweet.
2. one of my soul sibs (his word) blurted out as i was dropping him off at his dorm after bringing him a Chipotle burrito because he missed dinner due to a project for a night class: "i am so thankful for you." that's it. no preface before, no embarrassed explanation after, just pure unadulterated gratitude. how sweet.
3. strong undercurrents of appreciation from someone i've never met, but know well. smiling widely into the dark, past my bedtime. how sweet.

it's the sweet things that keep me going in these times. i feel like my eyes are glazed over, like my soul is glazed over, protecting itself in a cellophane bubble so no one can poke in and take more of my energy or personal resources. but the good things find their way through, they evaporate outside my barrier and reappear in beams of light shining very close to me.

and i am thankful.

on this tuesday, which is wednesday

i don't need to say much about the title of this post other than this: i love 4 day work weeks.

i also love the US Open, specifically that fiery Spaniard with the adorable grin (Rafa, for those who have henceforth escaped his charm).

i also love the sudden onset of autumn. the sun shines brightly outside, but the breeze feels like it's coming right off the ocean (albeit without that glorious sandshelly smell). sweating has been removed from my list of everyday activities. i can sleep. i can eat soup again. the cells in my body respond to the change in season like clockwork: autumn means death and beginnings. and just like that, my heart is altogether open and sad, i am fully awake and feel like hibernating. living in paradox feels only right to this poetic she-soul. it is now that i feel most alive.

i'm really feeling the calm of this monochromatic house today. those gently luminous shades, the subtle but elegant chandelier. the soft grey of the chairs. i'm so exhausted lately (it could've been the 4am bedtime i employed on Sunday) and spaces like this look so restful.

all the same, i still feel most at home in my explosively colorful bedroom. i've reached some conclusions lately about certain attitudes i've entertained that have been harmful to me. it's time to "zoom out & zen out", as i've begun to call it; i need to distance myself a little, gain some perspective, and readjust. i'm a highly adaptable person, but there are some things that take me forever to get used to. i'm much more flexible than i used to be {picture a little asian girl with perfect posture crying when she makes a mistake during piano practice}, but there are some parts of my emotional structure that remain as unyielding as a piece of steel.

i'm working on it. i'm learning to love who i am,
but that love can't come at the sacrifice of being a person who is willing to, and can, change. without change i won't survive. the perpetual renewing of cells. and it's not all soothing tones and cucumbers over my eyes. no. renewal implies death.

i believe that death is inevitable, and i believe new life is on its way. i also believe that sometimes they collide in me at the same time. not always, but it's possible. the rooms within have hosted the brittle wind of November and the softly folded buds of March . . . sometimes they pass in the hallway, and they turn their heads at the sound of the others' opening door . . .

in paradox, in death, in all that is to come ---

images from
this house tour

i'm here

i'm here but not here. time is going so quickly, things are coming to an end. there's no crystal ball for stuff like this. just hold on and hold onto hope.

i feel a little bit like i'm standing in a kitchen, hands pruning in the dishwater, watching someone i think i remember approach my house from far off, little by little. who is it? i don't know. and as much as i know i can't stay rooted in this spot forever, i'm still intrigued enough to remain . . . for now.

who is it?
i don't know. (or do i?)
but i'm waiting.
hurry ---
before i change my mind.

i m a g e
apt therapy

an amazing time

somewhere amidst the sleepless nights, long days, and impending chaos of this season, this week i had the thought: this is an amazing time in your life. don't waste it. and in that moment i realized: i have no husband. no children. no property. no prospects. soon i won't have a job. and it's because of what i don't have, that i do have all the freedom, wildness, and possibility to my name that i could ever ask for.

don't waste it

shiver and sway || umberlove

i also realized that i'm weathering a time of my life during which i simply can't maintain people who need a lot from me. i can support my friends through their storms as they are supporting me through mine, but i can't satisfy high-maintenance people right now. and you know, not everyone understands that. so thank God for her. and her, and her. and her. and her.

so as would be fitting for this amazing time in my life, my friends have been saying some pretty amazing things to me lately. we're talking about the kinds of amazing things that stop your heart dead in its tracks and kick-start your tear ducts into immediate, silent action. i want to pass some of these things on because they're too meaningful to hoard to myself.

when i fell apart:

our struggles are are own, and really can never be compared
in "bigness" or smallness" with someone else's
because they're not the one dealing with our distinct situation . . .
really really shitty things happen to us, but somewhere in there,
there can be the promise of reinventing ourselves.

i see this as the last few pages in your current chapter,
and when you see that last period and the expanse of blank page below it,
you'll know that so many things can happen in that next chapter.
{ kelly }

when i asked for her help inventing a pen name:
why not write under your own name?
when she read one of my poems:
this needs to be published. post-haste.
{ candace }

every day:
i love you.
{ jillian }

i may be a poor woman soon, by the world's standards.
but on the scales of heaven, i'm the richest girl in all the earth.

the maelstrom swirling at my feet is going to be disappointed
because i'm not wasting one more minute of all this heartache.

Time

Time, like an ever-rolling stream
bears all of us away
we fly, forgotten as a dream
dies at the opening day
{ isaac watts }

Fiver pillow by: umberdove
rings by: BirkaScandinavian
nail colour: Sweetheart* by OPI
photo (unedited) by she {me!}
[*apparently Dooce wears it too]

hello, all. hello, all 5 of you who read these words regularly. hello, world. hello random visitor from France. really, just hello everyone.

i know it's been over a week since i've posted anything of merit, and i also haven't done the {Giveaway} yet. let's face it: i'm totally behind. ever since June 21, i've been slowly getting swallowed in the many details of everyday life as well as debris from other bigger things going on. i can feel my grip on sanity slipping by the moment.

here's the thing: amidst the craziness and the uncertainty and the tearful episodes at midnight, i have been able to do the following:
1. buy a new bathing suit
2. get tan lines in new bathing suit
3. watch a HP movie with Rachel
4. buy a plane ticket to IDAHO
5. realize that Ann Taylor isn't just for uppity reserved prissies

so depending on how you measure success, i've been able to do some things. and some of those things have been fun things. life isn't all bad.

{ did i mention that i'm going to Idaho? }
{ to visit a friend i've known for 7 years,
but seen in person about 5 times total? }

i leave soon, and everything in life right now feels like it's straining toward that moment. i have no idea how the wideness of the West will affect me, and i'm full of excitement and a little apprehension too. but all you really care about is that i WILL be back to this space when life opens up a little in the very near future.

the randomosity of this postling seems almost unfair; i haven't categorized anything for you, it's just a jumbly tornado of me-ness. welcome to the inside of my head --- does this explain anything to anyone?

so here's to summer, to new vision, to late nights.
to text messaging, losing things, being humbled.
to air conditioning, anxiety, hot tears.
to whatever's between you and me,
between my cheek and the pillow,
between the risk of truly living
and the cost of choosing not to.

we are going to make it.

a wish for today

and the world
spins madly on
{ the weepies }

my head is cloudy today; all i want is an iced caramel latte. really.
and with each sip of sweetness tempered by the taste of espresso,
i want the troubles i know to subside, leaving nothing of themselves but a faint memory.
if only the world's burdens were rendered distant by coffee . . .
well . . . perhaps in some ways, they are.

today i'd love to meet quietly with my friends under the shade of a summer tree, each of us bringing our bread and our burdens to the table. undoubtedly someone would bring fresh flowers. someone else would pull champagne flutes out of her market tote, and a third would set grape clusters right on the table. together we would share our plates of life both delicious and dreadful, and everything would seem more bearable.

it's amazing to me how the thoughts or presence of other people can shed light behind our tightly closed eyes, even though neither of those things might change actual circumstances.

so since i can't set a table with my friends today, friends who need me (and i need them), i hold them in my heart. i imagine how they might look cross-legged in the chair. i see their eyes squinted against the bright sky. i hear the rise and fall of voices. i feel the ocean of love always rolling over and over, taking the debris out to the depths, making me new.

love,
she.

photo: deborah lloyd's table
from lonny magazine

she-warrior

sometimes you just have to fight for peace with everything you've got.

there will be times you're gonna walk into the day with your armour on nice and tight and your shield firmly strapped to your forearm. your well-rehearsed tactics will yield victorious results. other days it's gonna be rough hand-to-hand combat from morning to night and none of your training is going to seem relevant.

whether my helmet is secure or my knuckles are bleeding,
i'm gonna fight. i have to. just get up and keep moving.
so on the days when the sun is crimson, fight on.
on the days the sky is cloudless and clear, fight on.

give it everything; give yourself.
it is worth it. you will make it.
and on the days you can't stand tall,
know that at least you're still standing at all.

love,
she.

to sleep perchance to dream...

i'm relocating myself and all my belongings tomorrow morning for the second time in 6 weeks. to put it mildly, i'm dreading it. i'll be glad to have finally made it to the place i was supposed to move into this past August, but my stability-loving self is revolting at the prospect of another physical and emotional transition in such a short period of time. although it hasn't been my first choice to be in my parents' house while i've been waiting for my future living situation to resolve, there's something deeply comforting about sleeping in the bedroom i grew up in. now that i'm moving out (again), i don't want to leave. maybe i just won't get out of bed tomorrow morning. maybe i can keep my eyes closed and let the dreamworld keep me...

aaaaand since we all know that won't happen, i will wake up and face life an walk on like i always do --- here's some bedroom inspiration i've collected today. i can say i'm excited about my new (turquoise) bedroom and creating a space there that is simultaneously serene and vibrant.

i love this headboard. i spent a LOT of time in the bedroom of my previous apartment, and having a headboard that functioned like a wingback chair would have been amazing. the bedroom of that apartment was the coolest in summer and the warmest in winter --- sometimes i'd do everything from the island of my bed.


okay . . . and this is just pretty. straight-up, hands-down absolutely pretty.

sigh. all this talk of beds and bedrooms reminds me that i should be heading to mine soon. and i will, but first i have to savor a few spoonfuls of Haagen-Dazs chocolate peanut butter ice cream and fold my freshly laundered corduroys. wish me luck tomorrow --- i'll be putting my shoulder to the boulder called life and throwing all my strength into moving it one. more. inch. forward.

one day at a time,
she.