Autobiography

Impermanence

Sprouting Onion” © Theen Moy, 2014. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.
The ground has thawed. Spring is clawing up through the mud.

A line from Astronautalis keeps repeating in my head. “We swim against the tide until our every bone is broken.”

This.

We don’t think we can do this. Any of it. Keep giving it our best and knowing it isn’t even close to good enough.

But every day we keep existing is proof to the contrary. It’s always been sufficient.

Repeat.

In yoga my teacher talks about impermanence. Nothing stays. Joy, sadness, life. It all flits in and out of existence.

I roll my eyes in a very sarcastic “tell me something I don’t know” way as I exhale back into downward dog.

An hour later I approach her softly and start speaking before she turns to face me. “Thank you. That was exactly what I needed to hear today.”

Clawing our way up. Reaching.

Personal Development

Until You Learn

"Busy" © 1Q78, 2013. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.
Busy” © 1Q78, 2013. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.
I’m scouring for things to keep my brain occupied through winter. Things that occupy my neurons without actually making me think about existence.

Ordered a sketchbook and a new set of pastels. Logged into my Codecademy account for the first time in months. Accepted an outreach position at my coworking space. Planned my running schedule and increased my weight-training days. Stay just busy enough to keep myself solid. My feet grounded. Continue reading →

Personal Development

Daily Paradoxes

"The paradox of choise" © Andrei Zmievski, 2007. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.
The paradox of choice” © Andrei Zmievski, 2007. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

Yesterday, I was proud of myself. I was still in a minor state of disbelief that I’d made it a year without drinking, but I was proud. And that was such a strange feeling for me.

I tried to let myself bask in it. To not push down that feeling of accomplishment with reminders about how this is a process and I still have a lot of work ahead of me. I smiled big, received hugs, and every time someone told me they were proud of me I tried to remember to say, “Me, too.” Continue reading →