the things we remember…

aside from the style of the glasses... nothing much has changed.

I used to steal my Mom’s prescription glasses, grandfathers tweed coat and enjoy at-home haircuts. She never said no, let us run wild with our imagination and play dress up even if it ended up as our outfit that day.

When we asked if we could help her in the kitchen while she cooked, she would give us each our own bowl with flour and water. We’d sit on the floor and make “dough”. Dough people, dough pizza, dough buildings - all while getting flour on our face and in our hair.  (that was our idea of helping her in the kitchen.)

When we asked why a candle melts and then gets hard again, she would let us take melted wax and drip it on the floor to make “paintings”.  In child-like fascination we’d watch as the wax turned from liquid to solid. (that was our idea of fun.)

She used to make dolls.  Out of clay, out of cloth, or sometimes both.  And then each would be hand painted. So…

When we asked if we could help, she didn’t give us “kid” paint.  She shared her expensive “special” paint.  But when I spilled that paint all over the table, there was no reprimand or anger.  Instead, she placed her brush down, gently took my hands, and pressed them into the puddle of spilled paint, and stamped it on the table. She let us paint our palms in colors Blue, Pink and Yellow, and leave our handprints all over the round oak table.  We had that table for years. (that was our idea of art.)

There are so many little things; so many tiny gestures from our childhoods that shape us into adults.  I wasn’t told “no” and I wasn’t told “that’s impossible”.  Wasn’t told “you’re doing this wrong” and wasn’t scolded for making a mistake.  Because of that, expressing myself and falling flat on my face has never been a concern of mine.  Since the time I was little, looking like a fool or “out of the box” was embraced by my Mother.  So photos like this, where I’m cross eyed from prescription glasses, with the chapped lips I couldn’t get rid of, the old man tweed coat and DIY Haircut don’t embarrass me at all.  It just reminds me that embracing your “weird side” is the most liberating thing you can do for yourself.

What if…

It is 4:54 pm and I’m sitting here on this Sunday evening in 26 degree New York City, still in my pajamas from this morning, wrapped up in a scarf, leggings, mismatched knee high socks over said leggings, and a man sized thermal shirt.  (lets be honest, the men’s section is the only place to go when it comes to sweatshirts, and pajama sized t-shirts/thermals). My glasses are still on, and my hair is insanely curly from some new product I tried at Sephora yesterday. 

I just looked at the clock again and realized this: I haven’t really moved today.

(and it was spectacular.)

I drowned myself in music, journaling and reading, only moving to go to the kitchen for food.  Sometimes we need these days.  In fact, they are mandatory for staying sane, in my book. 

So today, as I sat and stared at my pair of socks that were not technically a “Pair”, I realized I love contradiction.  Maybe it’s the secret to chemistry, and why people are drawn to each other.  Opposites.  It makes the perfect balance.  Yin/Yang. Two extremes don’t work and contradictions are actually just Balance.  I need days where I go to the gym, eat right, run errands- when I am productive, busy and multi-tasking everything that comes my way.

And then I need days where I vedge, indulge in the Lazy Life and eat anything made and packaged in a Factory that would make a Nutritionist weep.

I used to be convinced that the one place for me would be this city.  New York, NY.  The wonderful pulsating city that used to be home to a 212 area code, now home to a 917. The place that truly never sleeps.   And it still is the best place for me to be, in the sense that it is just as chaotic, calm, fast and eager as I am.  But to only stay here, or one place for that matter, isn’t who I am.   I need to move.  I need to always be thrown in the opposite direction, otherwise I feel stagnant. 

So a few months ago, I impulsively (of course) bought a one-way ticket to L.A. for January.  At the time, I didn’t have a place to stay, a car, the money to get there or even the slightest idea if I’d be able to go.   Some of those issues have yet to still be solved, but I just assume it will work out.

(and it usually does.)

That frame of mind that I have, where  I think “everything will somehow, someway work out” is in itself a “contradictory statement” for me to make.  Because half of me knows it will work out.  Half of me catches myself in a state of Panic and that deathly thought… “but what if….”

And then I remember: “What If….” Can also be followed by something wonderful. 

What if the money just comes when I need it? 
What if the job you’re looking for and need employs you at just the right moment?
What if someone shows up and really does care about you, and turns your Life Story to that of something that only happens in the movies?
What if…. All your dreams actually do come true, and what if you just end up happy?

That can happen, and honestly I’m just going to continue expecting it to.  Because as much as I am equally guilty of the Panic, the negative “But What If it doesn’t???!” I also know that good things can happen too.  Becoming jaded is an awful feeling, and a very easy emotion for humans to adopt.  I’ve had my encounters with the Jaded Mentality and it leaves you so calloused and bitter.  So angry and hateful towards the world that it can actually stop you from experiencing something wonderful.  The truth is, life is hard. 

Struggles.  
Hard times, low points in your life.  
Obstacles that we have to overcome.  

I know I’ve had them and continue to have them, but so does everyone else.  They’re just different struggles.  My issue doesn’t have to do with the struggles themselves, my issue is with the people who compare their struggles.  Life is hard for everyone, and I think the worst thing we can do is compare hardships.  No doubt there is always someone that is worse off than you, and dealing with pains and struggles far more devastating.  But that’s not the point.  It’s still pain; it still takes strength to overcome these challenges.  And as human beings, we are all living a life in the same world and just trying to figure out what the next step is.  There are days where I know I’m treading water.  And it may not be swimming but at least it’s not drowning.  People need to stop comparing their issues with each other.  When someone says “it could be worse…” I understand that a few of those people are genuinely trying to show you how your situation isn’t that bad.  And you know what? It probably could be worse.  But sometimes we just need someone to say “yes it sucks. Life’s hard, what you’re going through is painful, awful, and you are 100% justified in your feelings. Cry and let it out.”

So I don’t compare.  I don’t say that my day was worse than yours because it was My day in My life.  Your day, in your Life.  So let it out, scream, have a few seconds of being jaded and then go back to “What if…. It all ends up working out?”

 

I don’t know how to write an organized post.  I could not even write an organized essay when I was in high school.  We were taught to follow a “5 paragraph Format” and I rebelled against it with all of my being.  Since when is the human thought process a “Format”?  We have hundreds of thousands of thoughts a day, so to sit down and talk about One Thought and stay on point, is a serious challenge.  And somehow, in the chaos we find that it was actually pretty organized.  So if you don’t see how any of what I talked about is related… look closer.