Sunday, February 24

Sunday in the Park

I smiled to myself as I neared the 90th St. entrance, "Thank God I've got another year here," I thought, "I need to promise myself to utilize it more." Walking through the park gives me such a sense of calm, joy, privilege and belonging, why wouldn't I make a promise to myself to go more often.
Today, I walked paths I didn't know about, saw secret spots with lovers cuddling on benches, sun drenched rocks occupied by someone with a book in hand, small clearings with bird watchers eagerly waiting for their favorite to come feed, I heard yells of German, French, English and Spanish as children rushed down snowy hills and parents watched on with glee. I don't know if the pictures do it justice, I guess you have to be there, but I tried.

Friday, February 22

Engimas & Open Books

I’m an open book. I really don’t hide much, and there isn’t TMI when it comes to what I’ll share, and what others can share with me. I balance this with being acutely aware of when people just aren’t interested. If I don’t think the person really wants to know a story, or hear about something in my life, I don’t tell it. My last boss once told me that I was an enigma to her, she declared that she couldn’t figure me out. I was at a loss for an explanation, simply telling her that I’m pretty much an open book and questioning what it was she couldn’t figure out. She of course didn’t have an answer. I suspect it was because I didn’t really think she cared, and maybe a bit of intimidation. I didn’t want to open myself up to her, because I know it was a surface need of hers to have people be completely open, she craved knowing everything and having that control over people. That’s not who I share with.

Sometimes, I think I take for granted my openness and desire to share what I feel and who I am, sometimes I forget that although I work in casual environments, I shouldn’t always say what I feel. But then, as I think about it and wonder if I don’t have a filter, I’ll flash to a picture of myself in social situation where I don’t really talk about myself for hours. Where is the middle ground?

This week at work I complained about something I was asked to do, and wasn’t shy about saying I didn’t want to do it, to my co-workers. When I thought about it that night as I shampooed, I worried, did I just take for granted how open I can be at work as a result of the casual “come as you are and say how you feel” environment? Maybe it is a sense of entitlement I have for being told, and feeling, that I’m a smart and very capable employee and I think the task is something I shouldn’t have to do anymore, instead of considering that part of the reason I’m being asked to do it is to expose me to something new, including new people. I know I can complain to these people about everything, but I do have to draw the line. As I thought about it more, I flashed to sometimes feeling like I haven’t said a word after hours with my friends. What’s the difference? Where’s the middle ground?

Talking to Kate this summer after an emotional breakthrough (in which my Mom told me that she had been trying for months to get me to just talk about myself. She would ask how I was as we began conversations, but it proved fruitless as I’d just shrug it off. She said my pattern would be to let her go first and only after she was done would I open up) she confided that she felt that often too, like she would dominate conversations and worry that I didn’t talk about myself, worry that she wasn’t being a good friend. Why do I do that? And how do I still be an open person while doing that?

I let it out when I need to, I’ve dominated many a conversation. When it feels right, and I’m comfortable and I know the person really wants to hear it, that’s when I open up. With my friends, I want to make sure they are getting everything they need from me before I lay my stuff on them, I want to take care of the people I love. At work, I have a different relationship with close co-workers. We take care of each other, and that means complaining and venting and knowing it’s safe. These people haven’t yet become someone who I let go first.

For me, I’m most open when I’m letting others be truly vulnerable, because they get to see who I really am in those moments, and I know when I need the roles reversed they will be.

Tuesday, February 19

The Happy List

Wedding Planning- seriously, I LOVE it
Renewing our Lease
Possibility of getting a dog in the Fall
Booking tickets and 1 of 2 hotel rooms for Hawaii Honeymoon- suggestions for staying in Maui welcome!
HG visit this weekend
New music (Sara Bareilles, Jack Johnson, Herbie Hancock)
2 Road Races and 2 Triathlons to come this year
Sfoglia in March (twice!)
And so much more...but I don't want to be "boasting"

The Ball Hit Me

Sometimes you just need to let it out. Watching "Definitely, Maybe" a scene towards the end that would give something, granted it is an obvious outcome, away if I described it, made me cry. Hard, real, full of sadness tears, that weren't because of the movie- but because of life. The experiences I've had now connect me to story lines real and fictional on a level that if hit at a certain spot, from the right angle leave me sobbing. This is the first time I experienced it, and in the moment I didn't really know what to do with it, I was in a movie theater, I couldn't just let myself cry. So, I stopped myself, finished watching the movie and walked back out to the real world. I couldn't shake the sadness. I sat at a manicurists table and had my nails done, wishing I was home curled under blankets sobbing.
So, when I got home- that's what I did. I just let it all out, and in minutes I felt infinitely better, lighter, relieved. I was amazed at the change in mood just letting it out provided. Thinking about it more, I remembered a saying I used in college when friends and I would talk about feeling like we just needed a good cry- we were waiting for a ball to hit us in the head. The ball is that something, that little push you need to get over the edge, to give you the reason to let it all out.
I didn't want this post to come off as sad, and I'm afraid it did. My intention is to document what I experience and feel, and I guess lately much of it has been some realization of sadness in my life and how it flows through me, how I manage it and the new levels of living with it I go through.

Tuesday, February 12

Yogi Tea

Feel great,
act great
and approve
of yourself.

If only it were as easy as steeping and drinking a cup of tea

Sunday, February 10

A phone call, away

It comes in the small simple moments of everyday.
I'm standing at the counter cutting the stems off artichokes and find myself in my Davis Sq. apartment getting ready to make artichokes for my roommate and me for dinner, and I call Dad to ask him if I should steam them or boil them. He answers, saying, "Hey Cub." I never hear that anymore. I ask my question and he says he usually steams them, but makes sure he puts enough water in to withstand the amount of time they take to steam. I've cooked them that way ever since, but "ever since" doesn't seem to apply yet, it was less than two years ago, when does ever since apply?
It wasn't that long ago that he was there, just a phone call away.