meditating

this month, i've found myself in a particularly meditative state - something i once feared, but now savor. it was the sense of surrender that caught me off guard, the will and capacity to get lost in deep contemplation. how much easier it is to see the surface, to face the facts, and be on my merry way. but this month, i've felt this yearning to search within - to reflect, reminisce, and ask/seek/do the tough things.

i recently started pottery classes, which have been vital in allowing me to be more intentional about my thoughts. working on the wheel, i must focus and deliberate. i must use my entire body and strength to center my piece. i must use equal pressure in my fingers as i raise the sides. the moment i let something distract me, it becomes physically manifested in my work. meditation - pottery has certainly opened the door to mediation (and humility!). 

tomorrow marks the four-year anniversary that g and i met, and although we will be celebrating a whole new kind of anniversary in a couple of months (!!), i can't help but meditate on the importance of this day: july 25th. there will always be anniversaries for "the first kiss" or the "first time i said i love you." weddings are anniversaries in-and-of themselves, and who can negate the anniversary of your child's birth? but the day we met...how many people are celebrating that date with as much gusto?

july 25, 2010 changed the entire course of my life. it was the day i let someone in, and in so doing, learn about love. it was the day that would begin my journey through self-discovery, as i would soon realize that it's NOT all about me. i am forever thankful for that day, when the love of my life looked at me in the eyes and never turned away. 

july 25th is most definitely not a by-gone anniversary; rather, i celebrate it as the day that launched me to identify - and live - the very purpose of my life: to love and be loved.

happy anniversary, g. 

our first photo together, july 2010

our most recent photo together, july 2014

things are lookin' alright

once upon a year ago, i had a mad rush to move out of this city. the stress at work, the endless traffic, the self-entitled people with their imposing diet restrictions and manicured everything - i had enough of it. and when you have a picturesque dream city in mind (ahem, seattle), it makes the urge to move that much greater.

until now.

over this past year, i have come to re-appreciate this grand ol' city. my position at work has progressed, as i've earned my credibility as an L&D nurse. our home sweet home is truly one-of-a-kind, a hidden gem that feels like "us." the temperate weather that allows me to be outdoors all year long - running, hiking, swimming, sitting outside lazily embracing an afternoon tea.

and then there are these other things...

...like being a 5-hour drive from these spectacular views.

and eating, drinking, and napping outside.

going to world-renown venues (go bruins!!) to watch eclectic performances by creative people (can i get an eight-clap for ira glass?!)

and then there are those friends who are family, those few people who make this crazy city feel like home.

i had to grow up a bit to understand why i'm here, now. i had to open my eyes to the good around me, to the amazing opportunities in front of me, and to the love that was born in this very zip code. 

los angeles, i'll shut up now. thank you for putting up with my doubt. this is home. 

p.s. emma, if you read this, know that you were one of the firsts to help make this city feel like home. thank you for exploring our surroundings with me in college...those dates will always be cherished!

connections

to the older gentleman who noticed my preference for english breakfast tea as an early morning pick-me-up, thank you. thank you for starting a conversation about the differences between irish and english breakfast teas, reassuring me that there is, in fact, a difference. we totally connected this morning.

to the french gal standing behind me at the market, thank you. thank you for complementing my sandals and starting a conversation about our blissful santa monica weather. i am completely enamored with the morning fog, too. and your accent...take me back to paris. connection, success.

to the guy singing his heart out in the car next to mine, thank you. thank you for appreciating your music to the extent of letting it all out, being so focused so as to not pay attention to my own jam session. little do you know, guy in the prius, that we connected.

and to the employee at starbucks who refrained from hassling me about using the bathroom even though i wasn't a customer, thank you. thank you for noticing the panicked look on my face as i made a detour during my run, practically diving into the bathroom...sweaty as hell. for this connection, my bowels owe you everything.

even in the city where it seems impossible to connect with others, i'm finding that we are able to live in synergy...as long as i'm open to it.

the best part

"...and it occurred to me that the choices we're making each night, compiled, would surely say something about us - illuminate even the smallest part of this great unknown ahead of us..."

- The Gastronomy of Marriage

i've always considered dinnertime to be the best part of the day. from morning till evening (and quite possibly the day before), my mind spins madly with the possibilities for the night's meal. there's always been something alluring about stopping everything, sitting down at the table (or couch or bed), dimming the lights, and dedicating time to the final meal of the day. and it's during this time that i feel most connected to the people around me, that a story is in fact being written.

recently, g's work schedule has changed quite significantly. long gone are the days lounging around together, as we both had schedules that allowed us to boast about our midweek "weekends." all day, we would be planning for dinner - the theme, the ingredients, the wine pairing. nowadays we have limited time together, forcing us to plan quickly and prepare efficiently so as to avoid eating dinner past 9 pm. 

it's been a remarkable change, one that makes me evaluate the significance of dinnertime. i'd be lying if i said i haven't considered going our separate ways for dinner so that we could eat when it was most convenient for each of us. but then that's it - going down that route would strip us of the very value we share so dearly: the meal as ritual. 

we're learning how to adapt to this change in pace, and although not easy, i'm finding that it's well worth the effort. at the end of the day, there is nothing i would rather do than break bread with the man of my life, celebrating our nourished bodies, souls, and love.

the perimeter

lately, my choice running route has been the perimeter of ucla. it was my favorite trail in college for a few reasons: its proximity, its varying elevations, its average length, and the fact that it was the freakin' perimeter of a freakishly stunning campus (!!).

these days, i've seemed to chosen it for even more reasons.

it's comforting. it's like home. during the crazy-ass days when there are a million things on my mind, the ucla perimeter silences everything. it allows my body to take over. i have adapted to the terrain so much so that i know exactly when to conserve my energy (sunset blvd is a beast, yo). when i run past a particular wall of bushes, i can anticipate the scent of cinnamon toast crunch (don't even ask. to this day, i still don't know where that smell comes from). and after innumerable times running this trail, i know what times to avoid it so as not to be caught in direct sunlight while going uphill. it's muscle memory, if you will.

and as i run the perimeter today, in the present, i can't help but reminisce about the past - those days when i would come home to 11067 ophir, with emma baking some type of glorious treat and abby writing some massive, incomprehensible-to-the-average-jo-schmo paper. my heart swells with the purest joy.

with these specific memories, the freedom the trail brings, and the comfort knowing i have a forever home, i declare the ucla perimeter one helluva run.

may 31st

"when it's over, i want to say: all my life
i was a bride married to amazement.
i was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

when it is over, i don't want to wonder
if i have made of my life something particular, and real.
i don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

i don't want to end up simply having visited this world."

-mary oliver

here's to a new season, to savoring the everyday...one picnic at a time.

may wins

may wins the title of "One Heck-of-a-Month." let me explain...

the first day of the month, g and i woke up in yosemite and spent the next five days taking it all in. hikes, picnics, mineral springs soaks, lounging. it was the breath of fresh air (literally) we needed. getting away from the city, recharging from work, clearing our minds so we can move forward in this life thingy.

and then there was the proposal. although g and i already made our engagement official with a proposal from last september, he decided to throw me for a loop. after having a picnic at the base of el capitan, g got down on a knee, opened a ring box, and asked me to marry him. umm, you better believe i was shocked, confused, excited, shocked, speechless, shocked! crying, i answered "of course!!" and asked what was going on. g said he had always wanted to propose to me at yosemite - the place where we have grown as a couple, where we planted our roots. he put an aqua-marine stone on my finger and said "this is me. i want you to have the ocean." all this time, i had been wearing the ring that was passed down to me - my great-grandmother's engagement ring. and now i had my own - the depths of the ocean signifying our love, the clear blue reflecting our peace. 

it was a restorative weekend, to say the least...one to definitely write home about!

one week later, mama and i woke up in carmel for a this-is-not-paris-getaway-but-we'll-take-it-anyways trip. we celebrated mother's day, mama's birthday, and much needed time together. it was also a trip to familiarize mama with the plans/sites for our wedding weekend in october. 

we ate and drank well, explored the nooks and crannies of downtown carmel, reminisced at the beach, and exchanged ideas about the ceremony. 

the weekend felt surreal. it was a celebration of my mother, her life, and the blessing of sharing time together. not only did we celebrate in a strikingly beautiful, naturally inspiring setting, but we also did it in the place where g and i will be saying our vows, where mama and daddy will be handing me off to the love of my life. 

we cried as we sat in the sand, when mama acknowledged that she hadn't been to the beach since before she was first diagnosed with cancer. we cried out of laughter as we sat on a golf course for a picnic so we could have "scenic coastal views." and then we cried when we visited the wedding ceremony site and imitated the exchange of vows. damn, it was all so surreal.

may isn't over and i am already overwhelmed by what it has offered: tranquility, love, inspiration, gratefulness, and above all, invaluable time with the people i hold dearest to me (and daddy!).