food for thought
December 5th, 2024
Recalibration is key; don’t drown in that abyss
December is a significant time to reflect over the past year, before you anticipate the new year. I often love to find little ways to celebrate making it this far, either a vision board night, a nice dinner with friends, goal planning solo date, truly it's an excitingly motivating time to start fresh. Though I will say I have grown weary of the tradition of planning for things that don't happen or are easily forgotten on January 5th. The lack of discipline within my own life has been one of the biggest eye openers for me this year. Unfortunately, it was not presented to me through a coffee date whilst goal planning for the next year. It appeared in countless ways, forcing me to confront and absorb what was unfolding. The lack of boundaries, not protecting my feelings, not respecting other people’s perspectives, lack of consistency in certain areas, all under this umbrella of faculties.
I (thankfully) have been placing more self awareness, mindfulness, and intentionality within everything, I mean everything that I do. From my first breath in the morning to my interactions throughout the day, I’ve become more mindful of how I navigate each moment because I have ducked my head into that abyss unintentionally, and it has yielded some terrible, just unfortunate results. I don’t wish that for anyone, nor should I for myself.
So, I hope to lead a life holding meaning, purpose, and fulfillment. I hope that no one waits until the new year to do a new thing, and stick to it. I love this blog, and I believe it is a visual of allotting myself grace, my humanity seeping through when it seems at times I am not able to verbally express it. I started this writing to express my feelings, share my thoughts, get through heartbreak, and find myself again. My self discipline requires work, and I hope to continue to consistently write as it is one of my forms of self love. I do appreciate anyone who reads this, because you really don’t have to hahah but you choose to and with that I wish you a wonderful new season.
March 15th, 2024
20 is something
“Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.”
- James Baldwin
20 is a symbol of a new decade, new era, new, new, new. Originally, it felt like such a fresh start, the new kid on the block newness, or simply a do-over. However, as I am now some months into this new age, I am noticing that my romanticizing of a fresh new start is a consistent theme throughout my years: the seeking for this exhilarating feeling. I love the feeling of scrapping the piece that was worked on for so long and starting anew. It feels so liberating, exciting, unpredictable. This anticipation for a change it’s like a high I am addicted to. New hair every week, new location to move to, new activity to start, new new new.
During one of my attempts to start anew, I was stopped and pulled back down into reality during an interaction with a much wiser individual. I will never forget when I had that conversation with him about the possibility of moving abroad. It was so spontaneous and unprompted, quietly frankly I am glad not much support was provided due to its carelessness. I had given the reason for my leaving due to a ‘new change in scenery’. I was getting antsy in the environment that I was in, growing tired of my job, bored of the things I was learning, and the need to abort that mission was becoming more and more clear to me. After I was done rambling about my uncomfortability with him, he took a deep breath, and with much patience, he so calmly and gently asked ‘What are you running from that you think you won’t find abroad?’
I don’t know if I have been put in my place so swiftly in a while.
I became a little defensive at first, in my mind it didn’t seem like that big of a deal, but I had to take a minute to question my ways.
Is this ideal of perfectionism truly plaguing my mind to which I will adjust my entire lifestyle if things don’t occur the way I planned?
I think I need to peel back some layers.
This idea of physically moving, changing environments, and changing people in my life has been in place since I was young. This unpredictability of what was going to happen, and what was going to change in the next few months became a norm for me. I have moved every year since I was 6. New school every year. New home.New friends. Entirely new environment.
So, when things got difficult in school, or I was struggling to make friends, it didn’t matter because I was going to leave anyway.
Let’s be honest, who needs to face the harsh realities of their life when they can change locations? Who needs to practice processing their emotions or communicating their feelings effectively, when they can just leave. Better yet why push harder when one fails, when one can do an entirely new thing?
New. new. New.
I think my hope for change to arrive has been ingrained in my mind, and I have completely missed the lesson where it required my action. Of course, the first step is my awareness of this mentality, and acknowledging how this affects my life in more ways than one. Something that I have internalized for so long, and I was not sure if I could connect with others on it. This was not an attempt to criticize my upbringing but simply to acknowledge certain norms that have helped formulate the fundamental values I wish to change.
My 20th year is looking more like a reminder to myself that I don’t need something new, I need to create more space for error and invite opportunities to try again.
Dec. 17th, 2023
So many figs, so little time
Decision-making is hard. It’s tough when you are an open-minded individual. You try to be the empathetic one, one who considers all perspectives, one who plays the devil's advocate, and one who believes in almost anything. One who vaguely assumes their loyalty to one side. Being self-proclaimed as a personified sponge has its benefits; I believe being open to the possibility is important. I think this way of thinking makes daily tasks—minuscule tasks specifically—difficult. Deciding which street I should take, what food I should eat, whether I personally like this style, or whether it is a reflection of how I want to be perceived. Why would I want to be perceived, and by whom?
Aren’t we all just going to die anyway? Does it matter that much?
In Sylvia Plath's ‘The Bell Jar,’ which I must note I have not finished, I empathize with the main character's feelings of stuckness and the slow, dreary process of your early twenties. The fig tree in her novel symbolizes a vessel of opportunities, waiting to be plucked and picked by the main character, yet none are chosen. This feeling of anxiousness takes over me, and I can stay in a depressed-like state for hours on end. Not understanding the root of this, I’ve found myself spinning in this cyclical state, coming to the same conclusion. I don’t know. I wished that someone would come in the middle of the night with wings and a magic wand and wave some pixie dust above my forehead, granting me new insight into what fig I should be picking. That would sure be nice.
August 20th, 2023
The Art of Letting Go
Alert: Spoilers Ahead! Go see Past Lives if you haven't already
We’ve seen it countless times before in films, experienced it in our personal lives, or witnessed our peers voyage through their own heartbreaking journey’s of letting go.
I’ve inquired with others of their opinion after viewing the latest film Past Lives, in which we journey with two characters struggling to fit their complex connection within their current lives. I liked the film’s realist take on relationships, showcasing how sometimes the puzzle pieces don’t always fit. The film seamlessly incorporated the cultural connections, only to enhance the beauty behind these individuals perceptions of love, highlighting how different that looks for everyone.
That is why movies like La La Land or In the Mood for Love, and shows like Normal People strike a nerve because nothing hurts more than a realistic ending, especially when it doesn’t work out. You follow these characters, feeling so drawn to their connection, the cultural ties, their childhood memories. Yet, in the end it is not enough. Familiarity, as I like to say, is not always enough to keep two people together.
So when I finished the film Past Lives, I was not sobbing uncontrollably, or sliding down a wall. I felt full, I felt just right. I understood what had taken place, these two individuals had crossed paths, seen and understood one another, but the puzzle pieces did not fit. Their lives were leading down different pathways, but the kicker was they had gotten to experience glimpses of themselves. It was indeed like a slow goodbye, for they knew what was to come. I appreciated how the director forced the audience to endure the tension, sit with their feelings, which most likely evoked the emotions of most people.
Endings like these I appreciate so much, because it forces you to be so present, appreciate what is right in front of you and genuinely love like you don't know what will happen next, because you don't. It is quite beautiful and painful all at once. I honestly don’t know if there is a remedy to subside the pain, besides feeling everything and sitting with it.
As the famous quotes extracted from the show Fleabag recite:
“I love you”
“It’ll pass”
June 17th, 2023
Surprise! I am a mom
Yes, I am aware of the misleading title, but I see no lies. I love being a "plant mom", a title I have granted to myself after a successful propagation of my Maranta Leuconeura (praying plant). This plant has been a joy to watch grow from something so relatively small in size, to wilding climbing down my dresser.
This joy is like no other, I didn't know an unrequited love would be so satisfying, so filling.
Our relationship is quite interesting. I don't talk to my plants but I do often wonder what they would say to me if they could talk. Possibly to stop closing the blinds, to play more Bossa Nova in the room, or to open the window when lighting an incense. They would most likely have a few words for me.
I didn't quite understand other people's plant relationships prior to having them. As an outsider looking into other plant enthusiasts, I simply saw them as accents or intentional interior decorating choices to lively up spaces. Why else would anyone need to possess anything in order to appreciate their beauty? I eventually wanted to lively up my space to prove that living things can exist and thrive within my presence.
Interestingly enough, through my journey of this commensalism relationship overtime the benefits from these life forms have showed up gradually. I have started becoming aware of the my excitement to provide water to these organisms, to help shine light in their vicinity, to trim and provide maintenance. Consequently, as a little reward your plant decides to grow and sprout and curl and stretch and surprise you with a new form over time. It sits there as such in form like trophy almost as if to say yes, you are capable of loving something so dearly, of caring for something with nothing in return. Yes indeed. It's so satisfying, and I love it.
So, whenever I ask if anybody if they own any plants, that is what I mean. I mean are you capable of caring and loving, with no visible return?
My praying plant's favorite song is Dindi by Astrud Gilberto, and I can proudly state I am a plant mom, and I know my plants very well.
May 21st-27th
Things are shifting, aren't they?
I feel as though a transitional period is occurring right now, and the feeling is one that I can't say I am too comfortable with, yet. It's something that seems confusing to me, since I have always been the one "embracing" change. Once a year growing up I was changing schools, changing houses, changing friends, changing streets. New stores, new views, new people, new everything. I was the one who didn't get too close to people, what's the point? We know the drill. Despite the sliver of hope, that for once I will experience stand still, I knew that change (as it stays) was inevitable.
However, now being a little bit older, in more control and existing in more permeance (as it seems), I notice just how different it is to experience physical change, compared to internal shifting. Physical change leaves room for neglect of internal improvement. In other words changing that couch in the living room, won't fill the void of that relationship you abandoned. Ouch. Internal change hurts more. It's not as pretty, it's not shiny and new, and often times you want to look away from it in disgust. But the beauty of shifting lies there, right there, amidst the undeniable ugliness.
So, I do acknowledge how uncomfortable I emotionally feel, and how tired and how complicated this period is for me. Yet, I have been granted the privilege to see a little bit of the rewards, as form of encouragement to keep going.
