2013

2013 was a strange year for me.... the common thread has been people, friends, family moving away. Some an hour way, others across the country.

2013 was a groundbreaking year for me... I discovered more about myself than I thought possible. I am more tenacious, courageous and steady than I thought I was.

2013 was a good year for me... I tried new things. I started writing again. I started taking improv classes. I met some amazing people in the process.

2013 was a challenging year for me... I got in a car accident, and it changed my perspective on life in more ways than I thought.

2013 was a slow year for me... I still feel stuck in some areas of my life, but I am finally started to see the reason why, which is a good first step, right?

2013 was an exciting year for me. I drove cross country to California to help my brother move. I met and hugged Minnie Mouse in Disney World. I set foot on the SNL studio set in New York city.

2013 was simply paving the way for the amazing things to come in 2014.

I already have a theme song picked out for this new season. It is called: "I lived" by One Republic.

Merry Christmas, reader, and if I do not see you until then... Have a great 2014!!!

eed

Precious scent

When I was younger, (and to this day, really...), my father used to travel a lot for work. He would be gone for days, or sometimes weeks at a time, and as a little girl I would miss him, but did not know how to express it. (Fun fact: we are not the most expressive family. I am 32 years old, and I have yet to hear my father tell me he loves me... and vice versa...).

As a teenager, his absence meant that I could break curfew with my mom either not knowing (which I highly doubt..) or pretending that she did not know what I was up to (which is the more plausible option). Either way, the sadness of his absence was replaced by the thrill of youthful adventure, and other shall we say.. "disagreements"...

One thing I could always count on every time he traveled was that he always came back bearing gifts: which always included a bottle of high end perfume from the duty free shop at the airport. Over the years, he has made some great choices for me. Perfumes my mother coveted when I was younger, perfumes that fit my personality and fashion sense in my teen years, and perfumes he felt represented my steps into adulthood. 

I was looking at my collection of bottles earlier today, and wondered what each one of them meant. Sure, the monetary value is a factor (please, don't rob me...), but the message through each bottle is more than I care to admit. I know my father loves me, but the precious scent of each bottle of perfume is a love letter to me. 

We may have our differences, our fights, our months of silence, but in the end... he loves me, and I love him.

eed

LoVE

A word of advice before you start reading this post: I am the last person you want to hear any love advice from.... for several reasons, I don't think I want to get into. (If you know me, go ahead and ask me the next time you see me!). I will try however to share what I have learned about love, from either observation/personal experience:


As a kid/teenager, my views of loves were influenced by :

1) My parents's marriage...
2) My godmother's influence on my life: who often said: "Do not EVER depend on a man for happiness"
3) Beverly Hills 90201 (yes, the original!): two words: LUKE PERRY

In my early 20's my views of love were influenced by:

1) My new found freedom away from home
2) A very cynical view of the world, and men in general
3): Melrose Place (yes, the original!): more random hook ups by people in their mid twenties

In my mid to late 20's, my views of love were influenced by:

1) My own heartbreak
2) "Eternal Sunshine of the spotless mind" on repeat
3) Beyonce!

In my late 20's, my views of love were influenced by:

1) Beyonce- part 2!
2) My godmother's disconcerting/devastating words after she re-married: "When are YOU going to get married?"
3) A long time of self discovery, soul searching and reflection....

In this new decade of my life, the most beautiful image of love is best described by the look of excitement and happiness on Mama F's face when she told me that her husband had just bought her "50 lbs of sand".

And there you have it!...I tried to warn you you.... I am not the best when it comes to love...

What I DO know, is that love is more than a feeling. Love is more than a moment, more than an emotion. Love has a sustaining power that transcends time, space and flaws. It takes many forms, and often disguises itself, but it always, ALWAYS, reveals itself in action.

On this note, have a great Thanksgiving, dear reader. I am thankful for YOU, wherever you are!

eed,

The bubble

I love my bubble.

Especially on cold Ohio days, like the ones we have had the past few days. My bubble keeps me safe, it keeps me warm, but most of all it keeps my heart out of harm's way. I am not just talking cheesy, lovey dovey stuff, but also relationships with friends, co workers, bosses...you name it. I hate getting hurt. But really who doesn't?

Over time I have created this nice little blue bubble, that can be visible to a few. One of my close friends, reminded me the other day that it took my 3 years to even speak to her. (So sorry about that!). I told her she should feel extremely lucky, as my average is typically 5 to 6 years into the bubble. Haha! Of course, there are exceptions... Sometimes you just meet a person and feel like they have been a part of your life forever... I have to be honest, these people both scare me, and bring joy in my life.

One of my favorite childhood cartoons called: "Clementine". tells the story of a little girl (named Clementine), who travel through space and time in her blue bubble. It was not until I was older that I realized that she had no option but to dream/ live her world from her bubble. She  was paralyzed after being involved in a plane accident, and her guardian angel (sort of), Elmira, would take her on amazing adventures to 1) lift her spirits 2) to help her escape her arch nemesis, Malmotte. When I started reading up on Clementine as an adult, it dawned on me that she needed the bubble to get out IN the world, not to escape it. Without her bubble, she was confined to the four walls of her bedroom, and would have to miss out on the beauty (and dangers) of the world. Throughout her adventures, she faces multiple encounters with her nemesis' minions, until she finally gets brave enough to confront him.

The truth is, my bubble has been shrinking and I did not realize it until recently. I find that I do not feel to the need to carry it with me everywhere I go. The best part about it is that I cannot recall when I made a conscious decision to let go, it just kind of happened. Sure, I sometimes feel the need to pull it out of retirement, it is not a constant presence anymore. 

And for that, I am happy.

EED

The race

I really should be sleeping right now, but I cannot seem to shut my mind off. I could not figure out why until I typed the title of this post: the race. 

I signed up for another half marathon a few months ago, and I was supposed to race in a few hours. Sadly, due to unforeseen circumstances earlier this summer, I had to stop my training and running  for a little while. One may think that you can pick up where you left off after not running for a few months, but that certainly was not the case for me. The endurance it takes to run 13.1 miles is something I had to work hard to build, only to lose it all in a matter of weeks. 

I find that running the second mile of a race is always painful for me. The first mile feels great, the adrenaline is pumping, the people are excited, the music is upbeat, and the volunteers are always ALWAYS overly enthusiastic. By mile 2.2 or so, my body seems to slow down, as if to say "What in the world do you think you are doing?" This is true whether I am running 3 or 10 miles. 

In many ways, I feel I have hit that 2.2 mile slowdown. I know in the back of my mind I just need to keep going, because by mile 3, the excitement, energy and sense of accomplishment almost always return. Still I cannot help but wanting to stop, and sit on the side of the road. For all I know, my laces are untied and I need to make sure they are up for the race ahead. Yup, maybe that's all it is. I need a quick break to make sure I have everything I need. There is nothing worse than being unprepared for a long run, especially on a hot summer day...

Mile 3, here I come!

eed

I write because

I write because when I say "quilt" I sometime say "kilt" instead

I write because words are more beautiful when they stare back at me

I write becaue my voice can sometimes get lost in the loudness

I write because my thoughts have a life of their own

I write because it is hard for me to say "I love you"

I write because I have no other option

I write because words swirl constantly in my brain

I write because I can

I write because it helps me connect with you

I write because I want to be heard

I write because I have a story to tell

I write because.... 

eed

27+ 5 = Blessed

This is a follow up to a self indulgent post I wrote five years ago called "27".  Go ahead, click on the link and read it. It is really short, I promise! I will still be here sipping on  my coffee when you get back...

Done? Good! It just felt right to write an update, and remind myself of what has happened over the past 5 years. I am officially 32 today, and I am pretty sure that still counts as "early thirties", so I won't sweat the number. And now to the actual post:

Experiences? YES! I  would not  know where to start or end, but it has been quite the interesting journey. 

Hurts? YES. Healing? YES! I realized at some point, that life was about perspective and how I chose to look at different situations. I decided to finally leave the past behind, and march ahead.

Single? YES. Dating is hard for introverts, what can I say??? 

Still want to see the Grand Canyon? YES. When? I made it out there 1 year or 2 after writing this post, and it was even more beautiful than I imagined!

Stronger? YES! 

Feeling incredibly blessed,

EED

The song

A few months ago, I read a fun, quick book by Neil Gaiman called "The Anansi Boys". It is a great entertaining gem, a sort of fairy tales for adults; and by now you know my penchant for tales. The main character, Fat Charlie Nancy, struggles throughout the book to find "his song". We learn very early that he is a talented (but painfully self aware) singer, with a boring, predictable life. Throughout his journey from England, to Florida, and the Caribbeans, he finally finds his voice, his song, his purpose. Well, to call it his purpose would be too restrictive really...

I have known for a very long time, that we all have a song or two we carry in our hearts. I like to think that my song shines through everything I say and do. I would not call quite call myself an artist, but I am very touched by people who can express their songs through tangible objects of art. That is why I love art in many forms. Painters, potters, singers, drummers, writers, lawyers, mothers, wives, they all have something in common that may not look obvious to the naked eye. They all sing their songs in unison. 

In case you are curious, I believe my song is soft spoken and gentle. It booms at the most unexpected moments, but only to signal a change in the beat. It often surprises, and gets the "I didn't know you could do this" comment. My song commands and even dictates spontaneous and erratic dancing! It gets you off your chair and on your feet in a effort to keep up with its beat. I am still working on more verses, but I have a feeling they will write themselves quite easily...

My favorite part of singing my song, is knowing that I am a minuscule part of the story. Knowing that each one of you also gets to sing their song, as quietly or as loud as they can. Knowing that we get to sing together, even though we are separated by oceans (Hello Emi-chan!!!). My favorite parts of "The Anansi boys" were hearing other characters' sharing their songs with the reader. 

Some songs are shorter than others, some are complex, but once you find it, you cannot help but sing it. So, sing it loud, friends!

EED

My friend Annie

My friend Annie told me today that she is moving. Sure, she is only moving an hour and fifteen minutes away, but five minutes feel like an eternity when all I have to do is turn my chair around whenever I want to share a moment with her. I was trying hard not to cry when she made the announcement, but it was really hard to hold back the tears.

Annie is a friend, a sister, a mother figure, and an inspiration to me. I look at her, and I know that the work day will just be a-OK as long as we have each other. She believes in me, and tells me that I am up to great things... She makes me believe in myself, even at times when it is hard to think through the day. She sometimes has to give me a kick in the behind when I am too hard on myself, and I love her even more on those days. Not many people can be truthful when faced with difficult decisions, but she always says it like it is. 

She likes to ask me rhetorical questions I have no answer to, which used to drive me nuts, but now make me smile. She calls me "Jerk" , because deep down she really loves me. She makes me pull pranks on people, and I proudly call myself her minion. She makes me laugh with her sometimes unintended jokes. 

I am not quite sure what I will do once she leaves town... To be honest, I am not sure I am ready to think about it, so maybe I won't, at least for now...

Slow and steady- Part 2

I have always loved listening to tales, myths and other stories. On Sunday evenings, my father would roast peanuts on a small charcoal burning stove, while my siblings and I gathered around and listened to him tell stories. He would tell different stories every time, some from his childhood, some ghost stories, but my favorite ones were a West African version of Aesop's fables.

"The tortoise and the hare", while not being my favorite fable/parable, is the one I usually identify to the most... In case you do not know much about it, here is a simplified version: the tortoise challenges the hare to a race, and the hare is so confident in his speed and ability to win that, he accepts and even gives the tortoise a good head start (which the tortoise declines). Depending on the region you live in, the version is different, but the tortoise always wins in the end: through either trickery, gimmick, or cheating. I like to think that the tortoise won because she knew how to pace herself to get to the finish line. She knew that we all eventually get to the same destination and kept going one step at a time... slow and steady.

Growing up, I have always been a hare, running everywhere, trying to win some invisible race no matter what the cost. I remember having to stop at a traffic light one day, and a neighbor asking me "Where are you running to? You are always running..." I took after as soon as the light turned green, but those words have been in the back of  my mind ever since. 

It has taken me a while to learn to take slowly. In fact, I don't think I really had a choice in the matter: everything in my life suddenly slowed down through a series of peculiar (yet timely) circumstances. Of course, my first (second, third and...) reaction was to try to make things happen and move at a pace that I believed  would be acceptable. It wasn't until I realized that I was in fact enjoying the ride, that things finally turned around. Steadiness and quiet determination finally took over, and my need to run slowly but surely subsided. 

I have to say, I quite enjoy this new pace. I may not reach the finish line as quickly, or as gracefully as I picture it in my head, but I will make it... in time...

Here is to the meantime!

eed

Slow and steady- Part 1

If I had to describe myself in 10 words or less, these two words would definitely make the top 5: slow and steady... I am pretty sure the song below captured the essence for what it means to be slow and steady.

Part 2 COMING SOON IN A BLOG NEAR YOU. In the meantime, enjoy...




EED

Smile

Dear reader,

If you happen to know me in real life, you may have noticed that I like to smile... quite a lot! I don't laugh very often or often enough, but i do like to smile. Although, I will let you in on a little secret: if I smile and you can barely see my teeth, it really means that I am having a rather bad day. If you do happen to catch me on one of those days, come up with a joke or something and try to make me laugh. Thanks in advance!

OK, where was I?

A smile to me is the most beautiful introduction to someone's soul. I love being at my favorite store, restaurant, or even running path knowing that I will see familiar faces smiling at me. I did not use to smile a lot as a kid, as evidenced in the picture below (brought to you by my de-cluttering frenzy). I always looked serious... Not only that, but I also have this "thing" I involuntarily do with my eyebrows. It almost looks like I am frowning or pouting if caught off guard, when in fact, I am mostly just lost in deep thought.  A great example is the picture below... I wonder what I am thinking about....Hmmm. I actually look quite disturbed by something, angry almost. Wow!

Keep smiling my friends!

eed

Clutter

Sorry for the long silence, dear reader...

It has been quite a few frantic weeks, filled with lots and lots of clutter. My apartment has been cluttered, my desk at work has been cluttered, my brain has been cluttered... well, you get the point.

I am not sure how I let it get to this point. The past few months have been about trying to find the delicate balance between over categorizing every aspect of my life, and the slow stacking of events, situations and papers across my desk. When everything finally has a set place and there is nothing to put away, I feel this elusive sense of peace and relief, which often quickly fades away once I realize that I forgot to file an important document. I wonder if the delicate balance really represents happiness... I wonder if my life would be much simpler if I could somehow keep the delicate balance intact for more than a few months. 

Too many questions to think about.  A couple nights ago, I started decluttering my apartment one area at a time, one evening at a time. An evening in my closet reminded me of the long way I have come, an evening in my pantry made realize that I really do not like canned beans, an evening in my desk drawer brought back random childhood memories of me dancing around in my bedroom (which I still do to this day!).  And finally tonight, trying to think about what to declutter, I decided to try tackling my brain and write down all the thoughts, fears, uncertainties that have taken over lately. It felt really good. I think I found the sweet spot... for a brief moment at least! Wait a minute... I have been here before. Except this time, I am taking notes, categorizing each... never mind...

Maybe one day, I will learn... In the meantime, maybe some hot tea will help.

Good night, reader

EED

Inspiration

What it takes

It takes a second for the mirror to tell me lies
For me to feel UN-beautiful

It takes 5 minutes to listen to my doubts
For me to give up hope


It takes an entire day for me to chase the lies
For me to feel worthy again

It takes countless reminders of goodness
For me to remember where I came from

It takes one word for me to feel beautiful,
One touch for me to feel confident,
One act of kindnessnfor me to feel loved,
One sweet note for me to feel encouraged,
One happy song to start dancing again

What it takes for me to smile again?
Another smile.

eed

A letter to Amelie Poulain

Dear reader, if you still have not seen a little movie called "Le Fabuleux destin d'Amelie Poulain" aka "Amelie from Monmartre", what are you waiting for? Go ahead... rent it, watch it, and thank me later. And if you hate it... sorry!

Dear Amelie,

When we first met circa 2001, I did not really understand you. You were cute, and charming, but a total mystery to me.We have met repeatedly since then, and each time I would get more puzzled and confused. Sure, we had similar tendencies to get lost in our daydreams, still I could not relate to your habit of watching your life go by without chasing after you wanted. Over the years though, I have learned to appreciate your cautious outlook on life. Over time, (not unlike your neighbor Mr. Dufayel), my bones turned into glass and I started avoiding the outside world for fear of breaking my precious, brittle self. Daydreams turned into silly unrealistic fantasies, and soon I found myself guilty of imitating you and your overly cautious lifestyle.

I have to admit it was both funny and ironic to find myself in that position... Life sure has a great sense of humor! Anywho.... Here I am again, after putting you on my shelf for a little while, I brought you back into my life and started paying more attention to your dreams, words and confessions. The one thing I love about watching you, is that I always catch something new every time. This time, it was this line from your "funeral" scene:

"Rater sa vie est un droit inalienable"- non literal translation: "We are all entitled to ruin our lives"

You are right, Amelie! So what if I want to do nothing and wait for life to whiz by at an alarming rate? No one can stop me. What if I have a good reason to be stuck? What if I am waiting on the sidelines for something better to come along? Is that also considered wasting my life away?  Your elaborate schemes and stratagems to turn your own life around end up failing, forcing you to wake up and literally chase your dream.  Does it mine mine are bound to fail too? Oh Amelie, why did you have to make me so confused?

I often wonder what your everafter looks like. Are you and Nicholas raising children who dream big, and spend their time making up beautiful imaginary worlds? I am not quite sure why I still have trouble dreaming big. OK, I am lying... I dream big (quite often) I just don't believe in my dreams. I cherish them for a while, put them in a box and forget about them for a long time.

Dear Amelie, if you are reading this, maybe you can share some of your wisdom with me. Maybe you can remind me of what it takes to let go the the mindless voices who keep telling you that the world is dark, cold and unforgiving. Remind me of that moment, when you finally ran out that door to meet the rest of the world. Remind of the moment the world took your breath away. Remind of the moment you finally let go of your fears. Till then!

eed,

Dreams

I stumbled upon these words tonight... I really struggle with dreams...

eed.

Kindness

My mother taught me how to be kind.

I was your average angry, resentful and conceited teenager but she was kind to me no matter what. She taught me how a kind word can instantly change the atmosphere in a room. When I would go around breaking curfews and sneaking out of the house; she would caution me to be careful and encourage me to make better choices. When my father would in one of his "moods", my mother would console me, and try to remind me that of better times. When I would direct my anger and frustration at her, she would listen, nod, and listen some more. When I sometimes go weeks without talking to her on the phone, I can  hear her smile as soon as she picks up the phone when I finally do call...

To be honest, I am not sure how my life would have turned out if she hadn't showered me with kindness....

I would probably still be bitter, angry, resentful, and full excuses. I would probably blame others or myself for events in my life I wish I could erase. I strive to be as kind as my mother, but I have still a long way to go... I am thankful for her gift of kindness. Interestingly enough, she also passed on her love of purses, shoes,  watches, flowers and smiling. I guess you do really turn into your parents after all!

EED

Chasing the sun

I know, I know, there is a already a catchy song titled "Chasing the sun" and it is now stuck in my head (and hopefully yours too!) for at least the next 3 days. You are welcome!

Earlier this year, my friends invited my to start a square foot garden in their backyard and I said yes. I have never grown anything, mind you; my attempts at growing indoor plants a few years ago convinced me that I am definitely not gifted with nurturing vegetation. Anyway, I knew I could not pass up this second chance; besides, it was my friends' first attempt at a garden, so I did not feel too intimidated. We spent the past few Mondays working on our boxes, getting plants, wood, seeds, soil, mulch... and pretty gardening gloves for me (hey, why not!). We were all set to start planting our garden last week, when we were advised to wait until at least May 1st...  So, we are patiently waiting for the next step.

In the meantime, I bought a sunflower growing kit (one of my favorite flowers) and decided to try not to kill it. I did great the first couple of days, and then it happened, I forgot to water it for a whole week. By the time I remembered, I was ready to throw it away and set up a daily reminder on my phone to water the future plants in my friends' yard. To my delight, when I looked at the window, I was relieved to notice that it was not dead...Phew! After faithfully watering it for the past week, I took this picture yesterday evening.

Chasing the sun

I was speechless.... I am not quite sure how Marie Marguerite-or Maggie for short- (that's my flower's name) survived, but I am more intrigued by the way she kept purposely, longingly, and steadfastly chasing the sun. I am amazed at the determination it took her to stay alive despite my best attempts to forget about her. It made me realize that I want to be more like her... focused on chasing the sun, focused on chasing my purpose, focused on chasing nourishment for my soul. Sure, there will be dry seasons, sure there will be obstacles, sure there will be closed doors, but I have a feeling that as long as I keep chasing the sun, everything will be A-OK! 

Thank you for your lesson, Maggie. I promise not to forget about you...

Taking part, 

eed,

Scar

Do you sometimes stare at a object, or a person and end up getting lost in whatever feelings they inspire? I do... I often do. I was sitting  on a park bench earlier this evening, and kept staring at a crack on the pavement completely mesmerized. 

                                       

It reminded me of a few lines I wrote in my journal earlier in the day that read:

" Sealed, my heart is sealed. It has been made new again."

For some reason, I kept trying to imagine this little perfect image of what a restored heart looks like, and it just did not feel right. I knew there had to be more to these words than the idea that somehow my heart would magically be free of scars and various bumps. When I saw the crack in the pavement... I knew... I knew it was my heart. The crack was the scar from disappointments, hurts, heartache, loss and pain. It was barely noticeable until I sat down on a bench across from it, with the intention of capturing the sun before it set. I walk daily around  many people (including myself) who carry scars, and pretend  they are not there. It felt really good to acknowledge that this scar, no matter how small or gnarly is truly becoming a part of me, but it does not have to define who I am.  

After all, the crack is on still solid ground...still standing, still beating, still searching, still experiencing, still taking risks. That's a good sign, isn't it?

eed

Introduction (Part 2): HE blessed me

My middle name: Eyram, (also known as Erm by close friends) means: HE blessed me. He being God.

My favorite lyrics in Jason Mraz's album "L.O.V.E" are the following:

"I am hoping that you noticed how you are blessed..."

I think those lyrics speak to me, more than the rest of the song because they describe where I am at this precise point in my life. I can't deny that I want more, because I do. I don't want more things, I really don't care much about material things (although, I do LOVE getting my hands on a great pair of running shoes), but I want more... more adventure, more passion, more experiences...more.

Trying to apply these lyrics to my life proved to be a harder exercise than I first realized. Mostly because it meant looking past the disappointments  the ambition and goals I have set for myself and focus on a sense of contentment that can sometime be as volatile as my good intentions. Earlier this year, I decided to take a daily count of 3 blessings... sadly that did not last very long... Looking back, I realize that forcing myself to feel content was not the purpose of the exercise. I actually wrote: "I am thankful for the internet". Haha!

Thankfully, I realized pretty quickly that noticing my blessings had to become a more organic part of my life. So instead of listing them daily, I "created" an inspiration jar. Every time something cool happens, or I get some encouragement from friends or strangers, I take the time to write them down and put them in my inspiration jar.

My inspiration jar

                                         

One particular hard day this past month, I closed my eyes and picked a note I wrote before an important meeting, and it said something like: "You are starting a new and exciting journey". As cheesy as it sounds, it was exactly the inspiration I needed to get me through the day. It may be something small, but when I take the time to remember to notice how I am blessed, it changes my perspective on what faces me and my attitude usually (slowly) follows suit.

Taking part, 

eed

Silence... listen

In anticipation of the  snow storm forecasters were predicting for the late part of the weekend, I decided to enjoy the 50 degree weather and head out to one of my favorite parks for an impromptu hike. It truly was a beautiful day as I started heading down one of my favorite trails. The park is located in a wooded area, making it hard to feel the sun shining but it still felt pretty warm. 

I had the perfect song selection ready on my iPod, but about half a mile in, I suddenly felt the urge to take out my ear buds and LISTEN. I typically spend about 30- 40 percent of my time with ear buds, either blocking the world out, or locking myself in (I am working on that...). It has been that way for as far as I can remember. I saved up my monthly allowance to buy my first walkman, discman, (off brand) digital player, iPod... You get the picture. 

After another mile, I found a bench, sat down and soaked in the sun, the wind and the sound. 

I sometimes forget just how much I love the sound of water, especially trickling water. I stood by the edge of the water and let the sound refresh me.

And then, a clearing. The sound changes again. Unseen birds chirping from the trees, a squirrel circling around the same spot, father and son talking about sports, my heartbeat slowly settling down.

Now that the snow storm has started, it is all quiet again. The streets are empty, my Facebook newsfeed  is overtaken by pictures of snow, the ground is covered under a blanket of pure, white snow.

Everything is quiet again... and I am ready to listen.

eed

L.O.V.E

Why do we have to make it so complicated?

eed,

The illusion

I like to think that I can do it all by myself, that I am a self sufficient, smart young woman who can do anything she sets her mind to... In this case, trying to ice skate for the first time.

The truth is, I need help to make it along and to walk it through. I need to break the illusion and start embracing the reality that leaning on one another is a part of life.

Embracing it is the best part!

eed,

Fear

Fear either fuels me or completely paralyses me. There has never really been a  middle ground... I can make excuses for each reactions, but the fact is fear is often a reason for me to remain stuck in my daily grind. For the first time though, fear has left me in the middle of excitement and nervousness. Big decisions on the horizons are making me wonder what it would be like to just take THAT step, but still have the nervous feeling.... What will it be? I guess we will find out tomorrow... 

Stay tuned!

3/15 UPDATE: Great day and great decisions were made today! 

eed

Introduction (Part 1): HE loves me

My first name is Elom. In my native tongue (mina), Elom means: "HE loves me". HE being God.

My middle name is Eyram. In my native tongue, Eyram means: "HE blesses me". HE being God.

Oh, did I mention that I have FOUR first names? But, maybe the last 2 will be addressed in another post.

Back to the topic at hand, I find it interesting that my parents decided to give me these two names. It is as if, they somehow knew that these two areas would become "trouble areas" in my life. My names are constant reminders of the conscious effort I have to make to remind myself that I am loved, and that I am blessed wherever I go.   It has taken work, but I am finally starting to feel the significance of my given names.

Let's start with Elom. Over the past few years,  I have had several reasons to not love myself. Teen years: no explanation needed, early twenties: low self esteem, mid twenties: heartbreak, late twenties: recovery. The external signs of my lack of love became more visible over time through eating disorders, anxiety, depression and crippling panic attacks. It felt like an unending cycle, and I was getting resigned to living the rest of my life that way. That is until a few words by a stranger completely changed my life:

-" It is obvious that you love people and love to serve them. But, tell me, WHY don't you love yourself?"

These few words hit me hard: if you know me in real life, you know that I DO love to serve people, it is in fact one of my passions. After I went home that night, I laid in my bed and  sobbed for hours. WHY didn't I love myself? Again, there are many superficial reasons, many deep wounds, but it basically came down to one thing: I was desperately trying to protect myself even if it meant believing that I did not deserve to be loved. The walls I built around myself felt safe, but what was I really protecting myself from?

The next day, I decided that it was finally time to do something... ANYTHING. So I started playing Josh Groban's "You are loved" on repeat for days on end. True story! After that phase, I decided to physically love myself by developing healthy habits; I started eating better, and working out daily. I worked on saying "I love you" to the people in my life, and to myself. I put sticky notes around my apartment, I stopped listening to Coldplay for a while (seriously, have you paid attention to some of their lyrics?)... long story short, I  slowly and steadily started breaking down the walls around me.

I still have a while to go, I still have more lessons to learn, more tears to shed in the dead of night, but I know that as a new day starts: I AM LOVED. Do you?

Take part, 

eed,

Blessed

"Hi, how are you?"

"I am good. How are you?"

"I am blessed."

Here is how a total stranger at the grocery store blesses my day, and takes part.

eed

Inspiration

Why a new blog? Why "Take part?". Well, there have been quite a few happenings in my life since my first post back in 2008, and I felt like 2013 would be a good place to pick up where I left off back in 2012 when I was challenged to dream BIG!

So there it is...

I have been thinking about starting a new blog for a few months now, but until tonight, I was not quite sure on how to even articulate my thoughts. I am still not sure how to articulate them, but I will discuss this topic at a later point. I went to the movies tonight, as I like to do at a local independent theater. Being single for me does not mean that I have to rally all my girlfriends to find an excuse to see a movie, even though tonight for the first time in a while I felt like it would have been nice to have someone there with me... but I digress (it did not take me long, did it?...) Anyway, I saw the movie "Quartet" with the amazingly talented Maggie Smith.

The main story is a typical story of love lost and love found, but at the core of it was the story of taking part of something bigger than oneself. Maggie Smith's character is challenged to rejoin the quartet she, her former husband and two hilarious friends were once a part of. She finds countless excuses to refuse and the viewer (i.e - ME) can easily relate to the number of countless excuses:

"I am not good enough. What if people see right through me? I am not pretty enough. I am not smart enough. I don't have many friends. I don't know how to relate. I don't know how to date anymore..."

Wait...She doesn't actually say that, but it does sound a lot like me. Anyway... After a dramatic turn of events, she decides to join the quartet! One of my favorite parts of the movie, is when her friend in an attempt to convince her simply looks at her and simply says: " Just take part". I was really glad there was no one next to me to hear or see me cry. Right then, I knew what the next chapter of my life would be about. After taking some time to heal, learn and grow, the next stage is to finally TAKE PART. Taking part of something bigger than myself, something bigger than my little puny dreams, something bigger than I can ever dream of. And guess what? I am excited! Scared? Of course I am!

Despite it all, I am finally ready to take part. So, let's do this!

Take part,

eed,

PS: Here is a preview for "Quartet". You should see it if you get a chance...