Attitude Adjustment

      Today began with me waking up later than I had intended. The night before I thought I am going to get up early, walk to Starbucks, and write. So I already messed up with the getting up early, but why is an early start so important anyway? I decided I could still go walk to Starbucks and sit down and write. Then the phone rings, and my sister says that she is pretty much at the house with my nieces. Of course, my nieces are adorable, and by now I feel like I really can't leave anymore. So I sit around looking for a movie for Mia, holding Charley (who has learned the slobbery art of blowing raspberries btw) while I wonder what my own kids will be like someday, and how I will ever go for walks or write when they come into my life.
      I do not want to say that my day is going badly. It is more fitting to say that my day is not going as I planned or hoped. That is kind of life's way, right? What I had been certain of last night was that I should do a physical activity followed by some writing. The day has flown by with a phone call, a fruitless search on Netflix, laundry load number one, a peanut butter English muffin, lots of attempts to keep a five year old and six month old entertained, laundry load number two, and my third cup of coffee. I hate when I get all whiny about not doing anything productive with my day (mainly because then I start worrying about the bigger picture).
      So physical activity, well let me count holding a baby while searching Netflix my physical activity. Writing is well... I am blogging, aren't I? So maybe it is not the exact intentions that I had last night, but it is ticking the boxes on a bunch of technicalities. What I hate more than me getting whiny about my unproductive day is me being whiny about my day and taking it out on the people I love. While I did not write a story or have an intense workout, I did get to spend time with my favorite ladies. If the key to life is balancing mind, body, and soul, then I need to work on keeping my attitude in check (and this is, as most things said on blogs are, easier said than done).

     Perhaps today did not go as planned, but yesterday and the day before I did something worth while and productive in my opinion. I had remembered from a high school art project carving a stamp out of linoleum, so I bought some carving block and linoleum cutters and got to it. I've made four stamps so far and am going to need more carving block soon, because I am addicted. The idea is to use my stamps to decorate wrapping paper, cards, and the like. It also happens to be pretty fun stuff.

 This sort of thing is what I love to do. I have not had so much fun with a DIY project since planning the decorations for my wedding, and I wish that I had thought of it then. I would have thought of some way to have used them.

       I have another craft idea that I hope I will get the chance to do sometime this week, and if I do I will of course post some more pictures.
     

      Overall, I have learned that the selection for the instantly streamed Netflix is lousy, that searching for a movie with a baby in your arms is difficult but not impossible, and that things may not go exactly as planned but there is no use in whining about it (instead I choose to blog about it ;> ). I am going to watch a movie with Matt tonight, and maybe I will get to go on my walk tomorrow.  

     

Body Mind and Spirit

     Before my amazing honeymoon in Ireland, I was rather obsessed with Celtic symbols and knots. One or two stand out in my mind. I am particularly fascinated with the trinity symbols, which have been said to mean various things (Father-Son-Holy Ghost, father-mother-child, maiden-mother-crone, past-present-future, birth-death-rebirth, etc.) but my favorite is body-mind-spirit. I believe that we need to find a balance between the three to live life to its fullest potential. Currently I feel physically, mentally, and (dare I say) spiritually healthy, but not to the extent that I have all of my kinks worked out.
     I feel physically strong, and I do not like going a whole day without a little physical activity. What about diet? I think I eat the right foods. I definitely should be drinking more water. Overall, I think I get an A in body, and I am not saying that I look like a supermodel rather that I pay attention to the way my body feels and don't push it overboard.
     What about mind? Well, I happen to be fond of my mind despite all of its quirks. I read frequently and think a lot. I communicate with my husband and whoever else can stand to listen. However, I do not make myself sit down and write like I know I should. Sometimes I think I need to work out, or look for jobs, or think of what to make for dinner, or.... a million other things that are all dying to be a top priority in my brain (and unfortunately, I allow little things to make it to the top on occasion). I am honest with myself and though this may not sound like a challenge it has been for me in the past, especially in those juicy teenage years (I have some awful and hilarious diary entries to remind me of this).

     Spirit is a tricky beast. This is where morality and dreaming come into play. I think that it takes a lot more than physical or mental exercise to make a healthy spirit. Otherwise, I could just go for a run, play tennis, or volleyball and read, play boggle, or pictionary everyday and be set. My spirit can only be healthy when I discipline myself to do good and to choose right over wrong. I may not consider myself Catholic (because I hate religious dogma), but I know that my parents chose to raise me that way because they believed in having a moral code. My dad at one point last year (regarding the fact that I don't go to church and that I was not going to have a Catholic wedding) looked at me very seriously and told me that he was worried about my soul. I spent quite some time worrying about it too. (I am sorry to any of my Catholic readers, because I have not started going to church again) Now I sincerely believe, after deep consideration of my own father's words, that God (and I do believe in God) is more loving, forgiving, and accepting than any person on this earth can even imagine. This is the God that I choose to believe in, and I hate the idea of fearing Him. It is not my religious beliefs that make up my spirit anyway. It is my attitude, will power, instincts, intuition, aspirations, and my own moral code.
     Body, mind, and spirit collectively make up our essence. They are incredibly intertwined with one another. A psychological issue can manifest into a physical ailment, people! I think that we need to challenge ourselves to involve our mind and spirit in our physical activities, to consider our body and spirit during mental activity, and to be present in body and mind when we go into our spiritual place. Banish feelings of shame, worry, and guilt from this trinity because they create imbalance.

Mardi Gras

     Today being Fat Tuesday, I thought I should plan out all of my over-indulgences before I give something up for the next 40 days. However, I woke up with a tummy still full with yesterday's over-indulgences. I have this really irritating feeling too, that no matter what I give up I won't be able to stick to it. Today is indeed Fat Tuesday, and yet as an American, many of my days are spent chowing down all sorts of junk foods and nights spent gulping down many alcoholic beverages (most often without anything to celebrate). 

     This weekend, I told a friend that I am a three-drink girl. Then, I come across this article in Home Journal magazine and the author says she has been called a "three-drink girl" by her mother with negative connotation. It seemed too much of a coincidence for me to come across this article. The woman who wrote the article could have been me as far as experience goes, and the fact that I could relate so well to this article did not make me feel so good. I have thought about my own drinking habits and wondered if I am on the verge of addiction. I always come up defending myself, and though I do not believe I have any real problems with addiction, my habit of three is not as healthy as I pretend it to be.

      I have a dark side, just ask my sister... or anyone else in my family (but not Matt because he won't speak a word against me despite the fact that he has indeed seen my dark side- we are married afterall), and I can easily say that my drinking brings out this dark side of mine. That is why my first choice in Lenten sacrifice is to give up alcohol (no matter how many birthdays there are to celebrate, the possible trip to Solvang with my mom, or St. Patrick's Day), because I find too many things to celebrate with a glass or two... or three. Just the same with Fat Tuesday, as I could go out for a burger and add fries and a milk shake, have ice cream after a not so healthy dinner, and wake up once again with a tummy ache. I can't do that, however, without thinking that I do this a lot more than I should as it is. 

     So today rather than making a trip to In-N-Out, I told my mom I would go on a hike with her, even though it is Fat Tuesday, and I am not fully in the mood to get off my bum today. I am going to do my best to ditch the irritating feeling that I may not succeed in my Lenten journey by way of using the calendar I bought myself to track my successes. 

     I am not trying to make anyone feel guilty and hope that everyone has a wonderful Mardi Gras! I wish you all the pleasures of the world without a tummy ache to follow.

      

       

Reading Girl

      I am reading Gone with the Wind and now understand the power of the famed book. I have to applaud Margaret Mitchell as I have only read a tenth of the book and feel a feverishness taking over me. I was hardly able to put the book down to answer the phone for my sister (fortunately for her, it was high time for a bathroom break). The power of a good book is that it is intoxicating! Only now after having put down my Kindle, I have realized it is lunch time, and I am hungry (Women, we don't need diets. We need literature!). I graduated with an English degree and took up that course of study because I loved to read. My love of reading was not so connected to a passion for analysis or critique, unless it was in a fiery discussion, as it was to the experience. Now I have the freedom to just experience the book without over thinking, without wondering what my next paper's thesis will be. It's so marvelous I can hardly stand it. Above all, this book makes me feel gloriously feminine. I loved the movie, but you just cannot beat the book.

  

   If I someday have come to terms with my inner critic and can write with as much freedom as I read, I shall have found true bliss. So the journey to becoming a writer has begun with reading. I am as close as I have ever been, but somehow a good book in my hands is my strongest ally and motivation. Hopefully someday I can give that experience to someone else. 

     

     

       We are officially back in Southern California. I had wanted it to feel like cloud nine when we got here, but that would just be too dreamy and easy, wouldn't it? I am finding it harder to write here. There is something stifling in the air. It might be the population size. I cannot help but feel minuscule in Los Angeles. The labyrinth I was dealing with in Oregon just got one hundred times larger. I have to readjust and breathe. My optimism must trump my pessimism.

       I have done a lot of self-reflection lately and know that it can be hard for me to decipher intuition from impulse. This makes a job search incredibly difficult. I do not want to act on impulse. I want to follow my intuition. I want to find a job that speaks to my heart. The money aspect is so unattractive. The cost of living is so high here that I cannot help thinking if I do that will I make enough money? Instead of thinking would it make me happy? The consequence of this mentality is prostitution- doing things without passion for money and sacrificing happiness for success. I know that is below me, but I feel the unpleasant pressure sure enough. After all I dream of having a family someday, and I want to be able to take care of that future family of mine. I don't even want that day to be so far away. My childhood naivete allowed me to think that I would have it all figured out by now.

      I fear looking like a fool for the decisions I make. None the less my decisions are exactly that. Mine! I am the one who will have to live with them, learn from them, and follow through with them. I keep looking to people for advice, but they don't know what I should do. Surprisingly I find support where I expect criticism. I am my largest source of indecision and negative criticism. I desire to let myself aspire more freely. By making myself post on my blog today, I feel that I am regaining the strength to write and to dream.

      

Journey

     Ashland has been an absolute pleasure and a great learning experience, but Matt and I are saying goodbye and going back to Los Angeles (at least for now). We had been going back and forth about what we should do: Stick it out until Ashland's tourist season comes, which is still two months away, in hopes of getting jobs when business picks up, or head back to LA. The back and forth nature of our plans was driving me up a wall. Our decision to go back was in no way sudden or without great consideration, and ultimately we came to this decision because I love Ashland not Medford. A fifteen minute drive between the two cities, and yet they feel like different countries. Ashland is, however, much more expensive than Medford.... might as well be in LA.
   

     It is kind of funny how unpredictable life can be at times and how unclear our paths really are.

I was walking in one direction with confidence only to find myself somehow off course having to back track. When I got back to the place I had trod so confidently before I did not find a single perfect path but rather an intricate labyrinth. Fortunately, it was not frightening for me to see all of the different possibilities. Instead I stood there marveling at the beauty of it all before I tried again a bit more cautiously.

  

     I walk my path with intent. I have a purpose. I have dreams to follow. I have a direction. I have many lessons to learn.
     Goodness, I miss free parking after 5PM at the Getty Museum on Saturdays. I miss day trips to Solvang. I miss my mom arguing with me about how to pronounce 'Solvang'.
I am going to miss the scenic beauty of Ashland, the walker friendly roads, and most of all my cousin, her husband, and their kids.
I look forward to the future and walking in a new direction.

French Garden

     Matt suggested that I name my most recently finished painting French Garden. I was not quite sure if it fit. The painting was actually based off of a friend's Facebook photo, though it came out very different from what I had first had in mind. I have been ignoring painting lately, because somehow I decided that writing was the most important thing for me to do at this time when really both are very important to me.

     When we first arrived in Oregon (after our honeymoon) we were job and house/apartment hunting, and I had decided that I needed to devote my time mainly to this search. I did not bring any canvas or paint with me. I did bring notebooks (of course, because I don't even travel without them) and I wrote here and there. After a couple weeks however, I began to feel the urge to paint (probably due to the fact that we arrived in the Fall, and Oregon is absolutely beautiful during that season). Instead of buying acrylics, which has been my paint of choice since I started painting, I bought oil.

     I warn you that oil is a pain to clean off of your brushes, it takes forever to dry, and is definitely not the best choice if you have curious little kids around you that want to touch your unfinished project. But I am absolutely in love with it, and for now I cannot even think of going back to acrylic. 

     The job search is still extremely important. I have simply decided that sending out resumes and waiting for call backs is not a very fulfilling life style, and I will no longer ignore the Muse calling me to canvas, computer screen, or notebook. It has been three months since I have been without a job (the bright side is that I have been married for three months!), in a different state, away from my immediate family. I miss home. I miss my mom and dad. I miss my sister and brothers. God, I miss my nieces. I miss my friends. I miss California (well, maybe not the traffic).

     The larger picture of my family is spread out across the U.S. in California, Texas, Louisiana, Oregon, Virginia, Florida, and Washington (I may be missing something... do you know how big my family is!?!). It makes me wonder how they all had the strength to get through their moves, how often they thought about going back, was sticking it out worth while, and if so, what made it so worth while? No matter what anyone tells you, whether they say "It is going to be awesome, you will love it" or "You must be crazy moving that far away from family",  if you feel the need to do it, then you should. It will pan out later whether it was awesome or crazy. It is better than just sitting around wishing that you had tried it. I still have my youth, my awesome husband, and no children as of yet. My heart said "go", Matt said "okay", and we did. 

     When times are tough I try to count my blessings, I go to Starbucks and write(... though my gift card just ran out), I sit down and paint, I read, and I still dream about what it will be like to live with just Matt. When we find a place of our own, it has to have a bathtub, because I plan on taking a lot of them. 

     I don't know if any of my hobbies will ever pan out as careers. I have a responsibility to myself to do them no matter what though, because they make me happy. 

     I finished reading the book French Women Don't Sleep Alone, and I highly recommend it. I have decided to incorporate some of the tips from that book into my every day life, and I feel like I am just beaming with feminine energy when I do. I walk to the coffee shop, I smile at strangers (not a big smile, just a closed lip smile) that I pass on the street, I wear matching under garments, my writing is my 'secret garden', I wear pretty smelling lotion or perfume, and I just appreciate being a woman. Oh and I started studying French again. It ends up all I needed was a break from the classroom environment. I think college grads miss and romanticize their college days (I am certainly guilty of this at times.. until I see posts during finals week on FB). Learning does not have to stop. In fact, it should not. It should merely become more specific to your own tastes and passions. 

    The fact that I allow myself these little bits of joy every day makes me think that years from now when I am looking back on this moment the struggle will seem so vague that I may not even believe that it was really even going on.