Sunday, December 29, 2013

“I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something.

So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody's ever made before. Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.

Whatever it is you're scared of doing, Do it.

Make your mistakes, next year and forever.”

-Neil Gaiman

"Luxury is not a necessity to me, but beautiful and good things are." — Ana├»s Nin

Thursday, December 19, 2013

This is an excerpt from, The Book Thief,  that I wanted to share.

Rudy and Liesel live in Germany during World War 2 and they are the best of friends.  This is one of their sweet encounters...

"It didn't take Rudy long to dig the coin from his pocket and place it firmly on the counter. He looked straight in Frau Diller's spectacled eyes and said, "mixed lollies, please."

Frau Diller smiled. Her teeth elbowed each other for room in her mouth, and her unexpected kindness made Rudy and Liesel smile as well. Not for long.

She bent down, did some searching, and faced them again. "Here" She said, tossing a single lolly onto the counter. "Mix it yourself."

Outside, they unwrapped it and tried biting it in half, but the sugar was like glass. Far too tough, even for Rudy's animal-like choppers. Instead, they had to trade sucks on it until it was finished.

Ten sucks for Rudy. Ten for Liesel. Back and Forth.

"This," Rudy announced at one point, with a lolly toothed grin, "is the good life," and Liesel didn't disagree. By the time they were finished, both their mouths were an exaggerated red, and as they walked home, they reminded each other to keep their eyes peeled, in case they found another coin."

I can remember countless times being in a similar situation, sharing some piece of candy and thinking this is great! Not even upset that I was licking someone else's saliva,  just happy to be tasting the sweetness of the candy.
What a good reminder to look around and notice the good life we are living.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Em thanks for introducing me to this song. 

“Youth is happy because it has the capacity to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.” ― Franz Kafka

Thursday, December 12, 2013

A story told through the eyes of a kid always brings new light to an old story. 
Kid goggles, they are priceless. 

How precious is this? 

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken." — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Have you ever noticed all the cars that surround you and wonder what the other people in those cars, driving the same direction as you, are discussing or thinking? I don't prefer the cars to be parallel to me as we drive, thats just awkward, but rather in front or behind.
I peer into my rearview mirror to see the faces following me. Usually I think, "Man, I'm glad I'm not in that car." because of the presumption that it looks somewhat dull, a business man de-stressing from his hard work day or a grandma just slightly smiling with her squinty eyes, probably trying to see the road. 

This morning as I peered into my rearview mirror I caught a glimpse of a red Subaru Forester. Its occupants were a young trendy couple. Trendy meaning her hair was red, curly and wild, she wore a black and white stripped shirt that made her look like she just came from the Eiffel Tower. His dark hair was parted neatly and slicked over to the side, his glasses looked like they were made in the 60's with a nice plaid shirt to accompany the look. They appeared to be enjoying the early morning, laughing and chatting. 
The thin cigarettes raised to greet their mouths and then lowered to be tapped on the open windows, turning their heads ever so slightly to blow the smoke into the brisk air. I could only think of one way to describe it, synchronized smoking. 
I have never found smoking to be cool or attractive in any way, but in that moment of looking in my rearview mirror I was drawn to it, maybe it was the song I was listening to or the early morning dawn light that made it look beautiful. 
But it was! 
It was beautiful, peaceful, and captivating. 
I wanted to be in the backseat right in the middle, talking with them, my hair whipping around in the crisp morning air, with my own cigarette in hand. 
Of course the smell would probably be unbearable, and I know it's bad for my lungs, but I have never wanted to be in a car so bad, especially one that seems so unfitting for me. 
The light turned green and my foot slowly pressed against the gas pedal.
Reluctantly I pulled away, smiling at the trail of thoughts my mind just took me on, leaving the synchronized smokers behind.
I wonder if anyone ever sees me driving and wishes to be sitting in my black worn out leather seat, right next to me? 

Saturday, December 7, 2013

“Don't give in to your fears. If you do, you won't be able to talk to your heart.” ― Paulo Coelho

Friday, December 6, 2013

Yesterday I heard a fact that really surprised me,  yet I could completely relate to....

"80% of the decisions we make, are made out of fear."

As I read the fact I didn't even have to contemplate it, I knew it was true for me.
What were the things that controlled my decisions.

The fear of...

what others will think.
being rejected.
people not laughing at my joke.
just falling short.
awkward moments.
not adding up to what you want to be, or what others want you to be.

These fears make me play it safe. They stop me from putting myself out there. I am afraid of letting people see...
I cry when I face confrontation,
that sometimes my jokes don't make sense,
that when I really care, it's almost mind consuming to try to show it.
I don't always have something to say,
that I want to fall back in love,
I need help sometimes,
that I m not good at everything I try the first time,
that I hate change,
I am really hard on myself.

These things stop me from making decisions that my heart might actually desire, so instead my fears mute the uncertainties.
I'm afraid of my head telling me or someone else telling me,  "I told you so." I make decision that are guaranteed to have positive results or no results at all. Sometimes I feel like I have played it safe for so long that I don't even know my heart.

But what if I just became aware of where my decisions were coming from? Either a place of fear, or want?
What if I stop and ask myself, what have I been living for?
What have I been surrendering to?
What if I threw those fears into the wind and accepted that things might not go the direction I want?
But I could rest in the fact that I feel contentment in a decision that I made no matter the outcome, because it was something I really wanted.

I have been letting life take me where it wants to go, instead I want to take life where I want to go.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

At times, I feel like I am left with no options. I don't have a say, it's just decided for me. My organs get all twisted inside and a pit starts to form in my stomach. Thats when anxiety really sets in, at least thats how I sum it up in one word. I often wonder to myself if other people experience this to the extent that I feel I do. When Anxiety hits, I feel like I have no options but to go with what I am feeling, embracing it. I use to think that was a good option, that I was being true to what I was feeling. Now I have learned I have options, starting with my attitude. I have an option to set aside whats stressing me and walk it out, dance it out, or tub it out. Waiting on my circumstances to change never has really helped. It is when I make a change and find other options that I feel in control, the organs untwist and the pit disappears.

Checklist for the day:
1. Let go of what I can't control
2. Be aware of how darn lucky I am.
3. Get Moving
4. Be productive in a calm, refreshing way.

"There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them." — Sylvia Plath

Monday, November 25, 2013

As a kid I can remember fighting with Ashley to be closest to the tub faucet. We had a system, as the  the warm water would pour in, slowly spreading itself out, the person closest to the faucet would start pushing the water back. This insured that everyone in the tub was equally warm. The water would circulate the tub slowly heating it up. But of course the spot closest to the faucet was the warmest and therefore the struggle would begin, Ashley usually winning.
I also remember my first time shaving in the tub. My fascination with razors and what they did intrigued me to the point of pressing the razor against my knee, unaware of the danger it would inflict. I remember my mom asking me why my knee was bleeding so much and my response being, "I fell." Both of us knowing that was not the reason.
Now days my tub time is spent alone, resting my head against the cold surface as the water rings around my neck, sometimes thinking back on these moments and laughing.
My tub time no longer requires me to fight for warmth or to watch blood dilute in the water, although I am still not an expert and cut myself time to time.
There really is no point to this, except to point out, that I really like my tub time.

Monday, November 18, 2013

Thursday, November 14, 2013

The other night my friend told me I need to be kinder with myself...
Arn't we all our toughest critic?!
I haven't been able to train for this race thats coming up, tomorrow.
I only like to compete when I feel like I have properly trained, when I know I am giving it my all. But instead my lungs want to take me the distance and my joints want me to stop.
I still haven't found out where I am going for my 3 month fieldwork in January, when most of my class knows. I'm tired of writing the coordinators and feeling like an annoyance.
My sugar intake is out of control ever since my birthday, the party continues, and now I find myself not feeling well right before the race.
When I picked up my phone this morning I saw large spider web cracks lining the back and I have no clue how they got there. Reminded of the countless people who have told me to get a case but I am too cheap to invest in one.

I am currently reading WILD, by Cheryl Strayed. In the books she is hiking the PCT trail all alone and this part specifically takes place at night while she is hiking when her headlamp goes out.

" I walked with a kind of concentration I'd never had before, and because of it I could feel the trail and my body more acutely, as if I were walking barefoot or naked. It reminded me of being a child and learning how to ride a horse. My mother had taught me on her horse, Lady, letting me sit in the saddle while she stood holding a lead rope attached to Lady's bridle. I clutched Lady's mane with my hands at first, scared even when she walked, but eventually I relaxed and my mother implored me to close my eyes so I could feel the way the horse moved beneath me and the way my body moved with the horse. Later, I did the same thing with my arms held out wide on either side, going round and round, my body surrendering."

Thats not always an easy task for me. But it's more exhausting to run these things over and over in my head unable to do anything about it.
I have to put my hands wide out, feeling the bumps life throws and continue to move on.
I'm tired, I have a cracked phone, don't know my plan for 3 months, my health is shit right now but it's all good because...
I will finish the race, I can still use my phone, I will be placed somewhere, and I am still breathing.

This couldn't describe my friends and I any better....

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Sunday, November 10, 2013

“I must learn to love the fool in me--the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of my human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my Fool.”

― Theodore I. Rubin

"To be fully seen by somebody, then, and be loved anyhow - this is a human offering that can border on miraculous." — Elizabeth Gilbert

Friday, November 8, 2013

I am trying to document my last treatment session with the 14-year old boy with autism.
I am having a hard time writing down the events that took place, attempting to keep my emotions and frustrations out of the professional wording that needs to go down on paper.
He was frustrated this past week, pushing my classmate and punching me in the stomach.
I didn't take offense to it because I feel like I could see the frustration in his eyes as everyone was trying to calm the tears streaming down his face.
It seemed like he was trapped in his body unable to express his frustration and tell us what was wrong.
As we tried and tried to calm him his frustration continued to escalate.
I felt helpless as I stepped back to watch him throw himself on the play equipment, just crying big tears, almost unable to breath, starring at faces that couldn't understand him.
Frustration was starting to rise in me as the teachers dealt with him, I wanted to push them aside and just let him cry, let him be upset.
This was his only outlet, his only way of expressing something.
His body language was telling us something that his words could not, something we could actually understand.
But instead I stood there watching him.

I want to fix things and help, but sometimes I can't.
I have to step back, remove myself, try to understand, really attempt to see someone for what they are and accept it.

"You know those moments when everything is exactly the way it was meant to be? When you find yourself and your entire universe aligning in perfect synchronization, and you know you couldn’t possibly be more content? I was inside that very moment, and fully conscious of it." — Alice Clayton (Wallbanger)

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

I sit here in my kitchen/living room starring out my door at all the leaves falling and rustling in the wind. 
I find myself so content in this moment that I decided to attempt to capture it and share it. 
It's in these moments that I can really breath, deep, and its almost impossible to be negative. 
Really I don't think much in these moments. I just sit.
And when I do think, I think of how darn lucky I am. 
Grateful and satisfied. 

"To find the balance you want, this is what you must become. You must keep your feet grounded so firmly on the earth that it's like you have 4 legs instead of 2. That way, you can stay in the world. But you must stop looking at the world through your head. You must look through your heart, instead. That way, you will know God." — Elizabeth Gilbert

Sunday, November 3, 2013

I am grounded.
My conscious speaking louder than my impulse. 
I give advice directed towards the less of judgement. 
I want up,
My fingers unable to find and point towards ground. 
Resting arms and legs, unable to hold me against this hard surface. 
to laugh uncontrollably.
to be angry as hell.
Acting on the first beat of my heart.
Changing my mind if the arrow points another way.
But my feet are not free floaters.
The ground hugging my soles.
Giving me the support for the running start to take a leap.

"I just realized my lips are inside out. They should be turned inwards, because I spend most of my time talking to myself. 
” ― Jarod Kintz

Friday, November 1, 2013

I think a lot...
and I use to talk a lot.

Sometimes, I am taken back to my papa's cream colored, two doored, old Ford truck.
Him and my 7 year old self sitting there on the worn out leather seats bouncing up the winding road from the small town of Northport, Wa.
He had this way about him that made me want to tell him everything, ask him everything.
So I did.
Then one time he looked at me with his big hands gripping the enormous steering wheel and with a big sigh asked me in his rough country voice,
"Kate, do you ever stop talking?"
I immediately looked out the window, trying to hold back the tears rushing to my eyes and sinking as deep as I could into the slippery leather seat.
His heart strings were probably tugged a bit when he saw me holding back the tears, his abrasive comment to a 7 year old was probably not the right choice of words.
But papa was good at twisting his words around, so he followed his comment up with,
"Kate, thats a great quality. Don't you ever stop talking."
and so I perked up and kept on talking, healed and mended by his words.

I think a lot still, but don't say as much.
I often think of this story, and think how maybe all of what I think, people don't want to hear.
and thats ok, thats why I have a blog.
I sometimes desire to open the up the door to my 7 year old self again, and sometimes I do.
But most of the time I hold my thoughts, letting them roll around mixing in whatever way they are spun.
Assured that I will share when the right person is sitting next to me.

"The physical language of the body is so much more powerful than words." — Bill Irwin

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

The one thing I like to brag about is my ability to read peoples body language, I would even go as far as to describe it as a form of art.
But I have never been able to prove my skill... until now.
Kara just showed me this quiz that put my skills to the test, and well I passed...
So to anyone who questions my ability, I say the score says it all.

If you dare to see your skills in the art of body language take the quiz. :)
I double dog dare you...

“The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution.” ― J.K. Rowling

Friday, October 25, 2013

"The truth will set you free."

This phrase has always been one I have strongly believed in, and still do to some extent.
But there are those circumstances where thinking about saying the truth makes me feel exposed, embarrassed, vulnerable, pissed, frustrated.
It doesn't make me feel free, it actually makes me feel the opposite.
It makes me tight in the chest, upset, sometimes bitter, like junk cluttering the side of the road.
I end up feeling its better to leave the truth unsaid.
So I let them lie on the side of the road until the earth swallows them up and there is no evidence they ever existed.

“I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

You know those people who tell white lies, or just lie?
They boldly tell everyone that they read the homework but when they start to talk it is apparent they haven't. It's in those moments I just want to throw up my hands and yell "Bull-shit!" Just like the game, well we usually say "BS", but for this situation the whole word and all its profanity is what I want to use.
Of course I would never do that, because of the embarrassment that would accompany both of us. But the point is I have the urge to do it.

I don't know about other people but I appreciate and respect people so much more when they can just admit a mistake or say exactly how it is.
When they can say, "You know I didn't read the homework assignment, so sorry I am not going to be able to contribute much to this assignment."

I think people appreciate honesty.
I hate fibs, I hate deceit, I hate smooth-tounged talkers.
Why don't more people talk straight?
If you have a question, ask it.
If someone asks you what you want, say what you want.
If you have something to say, say it.
If you don't have an answer, admit it.

I think we see others more clearly when honesty is in the mix.
Isn't that the goal?.. to see everyone more clearly.

“Don’t go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first.” ― Mark Twain

Saturday, October 19, 2013

i have started living this life where...

church attendance doesn't depend on jewels in a crown.
beauty doesn't range from 1-10.
4 quarters is better than an empty hand.
technology isn't my only link to friendship.
my thigh size is a measurment of strength.
errors make good stories.
hearts beat differently but can create a collaborative rhythm.
work isn't measured in dollar signs.
my worth is the value i place upon it.
worry doesn't trump quality time.
tired eyes means your accomplishing something.
adventures don't have to be outside, but can take place within.

"Do more than belong: participate. Do more than care: help. Do more than believe: practice. Do more than be fair: be kind. Do more than forgive: forget. Do more than dream: work." — William Arthur Ward

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

I currently have two quarter sized bruises laying on either side of my left arm.
It wasn't one of those instances where I looked down at my arm and wondered where they came from.
For my community fieldwork I am working with a neatly combed haired, hightop black and white converse shoed, highly distracted 14 year old boy who has autism.
Who gets agitated by loud noises and tends to spit, bite, squeeze, and pinch.
Who doesn't like to interact with his classmates and would rather sort beads.
Who has trouble finding words to communicate but finds comfort in running his hands under water.

Our first encounter I was really nervous to work with this young boy who isn't so little, meeting me at eye level.
Attempting to not gasp and stare at him with the puzzling look "how could you?" when he pinches my arm.

As our treatment sessions have continued I have noticed slowly how I don't take offense.
How I am learning to dodge his pinches and squeezes.
How despite his lack of communication he is very intelligent.
How to talk to him calmly and sweetly, gently touching his shoulder.
How he likes to give high fives and jump up and down when he's excited.

He has completely taken over a little lump of my heart.
I have this care for him.
I want to see him succeed.

I feel like this is what work should feel like, an investment in something you care about.
It may not be easy and you may walk away with bruises, but at the end of the day you are thinking about your next treatment session and what you can do different to help.

Monday, October 14, 2013

I have deadlines attacking me from all corners, portfolio, homework, running training, bills.

So instead of facing these things, I find myself reliving Hills and Kate's India Adventure.
I sit here laughing, almost crying, and being reminded of all these moments that seem so distant.
Moments I have almost forgotten, that I believed would never leave me.
I didn't realize the big support system we had, the people who read our blog and kept us going.
Cheering us on the whole way.

A deep friendship was formed, that was needed and perfect for that instant in time.
It's a bond I don't think will ever be broken no matter the distance.
No one else would have made me laugh more, search more, sing, dance, and embrace myself more than Hill.

That adventure in India was needed in order to shake me.

It makes me think of this quote from the book eat, pray, love...
It is talking about a soul mate but at that moment in time India was my soul mate...

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.

A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life. 

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

"If you don't start, you can't fail"

It sounds ridiculous when you say it that way.
But of course, it is ridiculous. It's (quite possibly) the reason you're stalling.
On the other hand, there's no doubt that, "If you don't start, you will fail."
Not starting and failing lead to precisely the same outcome, with different names.

-Seth Godin

“How would your life be different if…You walked away from gossip and verbal defamation? Let today be the day…You speak only the good you know of other people and encourage others to do the same.” ― Steve Maraboli

Thursday, October 3, 2013

I could say I want a kind heart.
Maybe a hopeful heart.
or a trusting heart.
But I don't want that.

I was reading one of my textbooks for school and the topic of leadership came up.
It rambled a list of qualities that makes a successful leader, nothing I hadn't seen before.
Until I came to the last one.....

"An Encouraging Heart."

My eyes were stunned to see these words simply laying on the page. No real explanation like the previous qualities, just an encouraging heart, period.

I kept re-reading it, thinking why an encouraging heart? Why not a kind, hopeful, trusting heart?
Why encouraging?

Then it hit me, it encompasses all those things.

Whats more exciting than having someone behind you cheering you on?

I think of my dad.
He has been one of my biggest encouragers in my life.
When he is encouraging me I feel loved, invested in.
I feel pushed and challenged to try harder, to not give quitting a second thought.
He believes and trusts in me throughout the whole process.
And if it doesn't pan out, he is understanding and giving me hope that it will be ok.

I can't think of a better heart to have.

Sometimes I think of the jealousy, harsh words, selfish manners, and careless nature of the human race, it hurts my heart to be apart of that.
To some degree we all are.
To think that some people have never had an encouraging heart behind them, someone who believes in them.
How much tougher and lonely a life like that would have to be, especially mixed with unfortunate events.

More and more I am realizing the significance of the people who surround us and how they affect our life,
close loved ones.

It's these people that are part of my existence and sustaining existence, it's all I really have.
and Life is so much easier and better when you have a cheerleader, an encourager.
It becomes our responsibility to cultivate that.

I have been lucky to have encouragers, and I hope I can do that for someone else.

Sunday, September 29, 2013

“the year of letting go, 

of understanding loss. 


of the word ‘no’ and also being able to say ‘you are not kind’. 

the year of humanity/humility. 

when the whole world couldn’t get out of bed. 

everyone i’ve met this year, says the same thing ‘you are so easy to be around, how do you do that?’

the year i broke open and dug out all the rot with own hands. 

the year i learnt small talk. 

and how to smile at strangers. 

the year i understood that i am my best when i reach out and ask ‘do you want to be my friend?’ 

the year of sugar, everywhere.



honey honey. 

the year of being alone, and learning how much i like it. 

the year of hugging people i don’t know, because i want to know them. 

the year i made peace and love, right here.”

- Warsan Shire 

“Pain and beauty, our constant bedfellows” ― Nick Bantock

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

She started the fall the night he sang on that old staircase.
Denying thoughts, attempting to keep him just a friend.
He won her heart with notions that it was made of gold.
Hearts racing, knees trembling as their lips finally touched on wheat field hills,
afraid of falling if he didn’t hold her close.
Being wrapped in his arms was to be at home.                                                                               

There was nothing that wasn’t shared between them, keeping each others secretes, coffee foam rising from the cup, laying beneath the stars, sheets that were made into ceilings and walls, heartbeats that pounded across chests.
Two peas, one pod.

Melting one another’s hearts.
Her heart opened up and he rushed in.
Touching places she didn’t realize could be hurt.
Not aware of the consequences of love.
Unaware that two people can fall in love as well as out of love.

He gripped her hand tight as he tried to let her go.
The stripes of her blue and white dress were blurred as her world started to spin.
Wondering if their hearts could take the tear.
Both unable to explain what was taking place.
Wondering why it takes months to build a love that can be taken away in moments.

Something in him made her want to keep him, keep him her friend.
She heard an unfamiliar silence, his voice no longer lingering in her ears.
Overwhelmed by the desire to be there for him, not to hurt him.

Her heart felt put on trial, questioned and doubted by the very person who had once put such a high value on it.
He knew her, what made her smile, laugh, angry and what hurt her, but he was the last person to understand how she felt.

She couldn’t control who she loved, swearing she would solve the formula if there was one to erase the feelings of love.  
The power of her twisting heart at night would draw the tears from her eyes and prayers from a bare soul.
Clinging to prayers that everyone had not let go of her,
prayers that slid into dreams, 
resting eyes, 
resting heart.

Time to time they would meet in dreams, sighing with a sense of relief that the other still existed.
But now he is just a dream, 
a dream that she has abandoned.

Her past continues to form her, teach her, and strengthen her. 

She has loyalty tattooed deeply into each one of her bones.
She knows when to sit with what she is feeling, seizing it entirely.
She no longer waits on the perfect day to start loving herself.
She is stronger than loneliness, but requires a dose of silence.
She knows when to call on ice cream and when to run.
She has a backbone that is flexible but remains fused to who she is.
She is now capable of making her own home. 
She doesn’t believe in love as a noun, only as a verb.
She has an enormous capacity to love, an ability to push flaws to the side.
She knows when to take her portion and when to move forward.
She now rearranges her heart, making new space.
She can see her life changing, and it makes her smile.

Her wounds have become the source of her power.

“It does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop.” ― Andy Warhol

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

I went to the beach alone this Saturday.
I had this urge to get out and just surround myself with an unfamiliar place.
I ended up near a pier surrounded by groups of people. 
Boys carrying boogie boards mimicking older surfers, dads taking pictures of their kids playing in shallow waters, shirtless built men running the waters edge, ladies shielded by large umbrellas, surfers sleeping in the sand waiting for the next set of waves.

I laid there listening to the waves, a continuous static sound. 
I read a book, wild, contemplating the quotes it spat out at me.
"Inspired by Greg's faith in me, I didn't give quitting another thought. "

I decided to venture to the water, the one thing I had really come to indulge in.
As I reached hip height in the water I realized this was going to be difficult, something I had not anticipated. 
I found it difficult to completely let go and let the waves toss me around like a Raggedy Ann Doll.

Usually when I am playing in the waves I am with people. We laugh when the waves hits us unexpectedly. We joke about who is losing their swim bottoms as they skid across the sand.

But here I found myself alone. I wanted to wade back in and lay down but a bigger part of me wanted to enjoy these waves.
I thought of the quote I had read earlier, and thought "Don't give quitting another thought "
So, I ended up doing the whole awkward laugh as you look to the people parallel playing next to you. It was a couple about my age and a man who surprisingly resembled Russell Brand, his name was Tom or Jeff, I can't remember anymore. Anyways...

I had to consciously remind myself to let go, eventually we all let go.
The waves took us and drowned us, and we came up gasping for air, and laughing.

"Well, in the first place girls never marry the men they flirt with." - Oscar Wilde

Sunday, September 8, 2013

There are those things in life that we miss the lesson for.
For me it was flirting.
I blame my parents for homeschooling me 2nd and 3rd grade. I blame homeschool a lot but that's besides the point... 
I think those are probably the grades when those skills were being ingrained, spit wad wars, pushing on the playground, name calling, all those tricks.
2nd and 3rd graders probably have more game than I do when it comes to flirting.
I am just an awkward turtle when it comes to flirting.
And how are turtles even awkward? Is that even the right saying?
I am not clever enough for innuendos, my mind thinks frankly.
How do people my age flirt now? Do we still push? Do we still tease?
Should I even be asking these questions at this point?
I feel like I am pretty easy to read and don’t leave a whole lot of mystery, which flirting has to some extent.
Of course I’m exaggerating this a bit, but my point is flirting is somewhat of innate trait. 

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