28

i just celebrated my 28th birthday, which was nothing short of heart-warming. lunch with friends, a hike with my boys, dinner date with g, and finished off with a small gathering at home. i've always loved celebrating birthdays - not just for the parties, cake, and festive hoopla, but more for the attention paid to their significance.

another year lived. another year to live.

twenty-seven was an important year: the year i married the man of my life. it was the year i became a wife, and in so doing, welcomed a world of possibilities with a partner in hand. i never want to look forward to a year without considering and meditating on the year prior. without the challenges and victories of twenty-seven, i wouldn't even know how to ease into twenty-eight.

do i feel different? wiser? well, sure, of course. i am twenty-eight years of growth and transformation. i am twenty-eight years of being a daughter and a friend. i'm still learning how to be a student and teacher, a partner and a wife.

my college self predicted at 28 i would be married and either have a baby in my arms or be pregnant with one. although college self knew everything about the world and could map out her entire life (because apparently we just know it all), i am thrilled that my twenty-eight self learned that life is better unknown, it is actually better than i could have ever imagined. as this 28th year is full of uncertainties, i find tremendous peace in its truths. and the truth is, i am loved.

when your teeth fall out

yesterday, i woke up with vivid recollections of the night's dream. it was the second time that i had this particular dream - so detailed and personal to really catch me off guard. the first time i had this dream, i brushed it off as just another bizarre scenario or fantasyland, a possible indication that i may have eaten too much spicy food or drank too much wine. but this second time, i felt compelled to learn what it meant to dream about your teeth falling out. 

in my dream, i was going about my business, when all of a sudden, my teeth started falling out - first, one at a time, then by the bucketload. it wasn't painful. as a matter of fact, i felt some relief. erica in dream world didn't freak out or panic; she was just surprised.

i didn't realize what i had dreamt until the late morning. after a very easy search of "dreams about teeth falling out," i was granted some clarity. as with any dream, there were negative and positive meanings, all subject to the dreamer's interpretation.

the "negatives:"

-- insecurities, especially about personal loss
-- a compromise that is costly to you
-- life changes and growing pains
-- fear of becoming older

the "positives:"

--signs of personal expansion
-- wish or need to nurture yourself more carefully
-- an invitation to explore feelings of personal growth
-- times of renewal and rebirth

with a little self-analysis, it didn't seem illogical to have this particular dream right now. for 10 weeks starting mid-february, i will be taking on a new role at work, committing all my time to orienting a nurse in labor and delivery. the responsibility and energy required to fulfill this role does, in fact, feel like a compromise - compromising my free time, vacation plans, time to just be normal and stress-free. it's a huge step in my professional journey, and naturally, i feel insecure and inadequate for the position. i don't want to lose myself in this process. as i teach and model and support, i want to learn and grow and overcome. and i guess that's where the "positive" meanings come into play.

during these 10 weeks, it will be essential for me to recognize my needs and be intentional with satisfying them. i must seek out my support system and remember that i'm not alone. this is an exciting opportunity, a step forward in my personal growth, and although life is just swell the way it is now, it's time for me to challenge myself. put my big-girl panties on and greet a new day.

ironically, i turn 28 in a couple of weeks. i am beyond thrilled to be where i am at this time in my life, and feel incredibly blessed/freaked-out/relieved that my teeth fell out the way they did: in dream world, for the purpose of shedding light on something deeper.

wish me luck!

slowing down

knock on wood, but i don't get sick often. and when i do, i'm the worst.

i've been in bed the last two days, battling a fever, body aches, sneezes, and a wretched cough that would signal you to run in the opposite direction. i'm sick, i know it. but i have the hardest time succumbing to the general malaise and fatigue. i don't want to be cooped up inside all day. given a choice between sleeping and going out for a run, i prefer the latter. any sane person knows that sick equates to rest, but because i am hardly ever in this condition, it takes a while for me to understand. (and i'm a freakin' nurse, for goodness sakes)!!

so this is my mental monologue, my streaming line of consciousness.

i, in fact, know very well how to take time to step away and rest. a massage, a leisurely walk, a cup of tea and treat. i treasure those times. however, they are on my conditions, when i am ready. and that's where i find that i am having a hard time recovering from this illness. i did not prepare for being sick, feeling deplete, or sleeping hours on end. this time was not accounted for in my work week, written down strategically in my moleskin. time is flying by, checklists need to be crossed off, and i am here, curled up in bed feeling sorry for myself.

however.

i read this excerpt from kinfolk recently, and it absolutely resonated with me:

"winter offers us a reprieve from summer's outdoor happy hours and the autumn weekends away; a season-sanctioned rest period. it turns us in - indoors, inward, intimate - and in these ways, causes us to shift form. like the leaves and long evenings, certain qualities of ours seem to fade and make way for a new identity."  --annu subramanian

like winter, this illness is a season. it's an inherent cue for us to respect ourselves enough to slow down. rest. heal. to allow nature to run its course, and in so doing, come out better than before. and that's what i want to do: follow the commands of my body and be better for it.

the final hours

i write this just hours away from puckering up, taking a swag of some sparkling, and toasting to the new year. it's surreal, saying goodbye to one of the best years of my life. although i always look forward to the anticipation of new beginnings, i find myself more intrigued with these final hours, reflecting on the memories that shaped this past year.

preparing for marriage was surely the greatest process i could have imagined. 2014 was a year of self-discovery, of learning who i am as a woman and who i was going to become as a wife. it was a year of seeing g in a new light - as the man who would walk this life beside me, with all its joy and challenges and adventures and occasional cases of shittiness. when g and i exchanged our vows, it became very clear to me that 2014 would be the first year of the rest of my life. a prosperous life.

i really have no idea what 2015 will present. and i can honestly say it's the first year that i don't mind the uncertainty. i'm not one to make resolutions because, frankly, i don't think i could keep them. i do, however, believe in setting a tone for the year, a theme, if you will. this year, i believe it's going to be about going with the flow, letting life change its directions and adapting to its path. i foresee travels and position changes at work, celebrations and tough decisions. i anticipate more runs and wine, dinner parties and gardening. when we welcome this new year, i look forward to celebrating the peace that has settled within us, the peace that will be a constant in our ever-evolving life.

2015 may be a mystery, but i have full confidence it will be fueled by all-consuming love. because at the end of the day, that's all we really care about.

cheers to the new year!

always the host

gezelligheid:

type: abstract noun

language: dutch

meaning: gezelligheid is at the core of dutch culture. it's an atmosphere, a vibe, a serendipitous togetherness, an aesthetic, a relaxed mood, a feeling of flow, a sense of belonging. no matter where you are or what you're doing, it describes the sensation of being at home…  

                                              --kinfolk, words by louisa thomsen brits

i've come to realize during these roaring twenties that i am a forever host. on rare occasions, i may be a party-goer, but for the most part, i will be that person who plans, preps, parties, and wraps it all up at the end. it's a title (quality?) i'm pretty sure i inherited from my mother. growing up, it was never a question where the holidays would be celebrated. my parents' home was always the epicenter of gatherings. my mother has this magical quality about her: she opens her humble home to others, invites them to take refuge from the everyday stresses, nourishes them with food and warmth, and does it all amidst her current responsibilities and forward-moving life. it was, and continues to be, a joy for her.

when g and i first started dating, i learned he was also a forever host. his dinnerware, linens, and kitchen utensils suggested that he was no amateur in the hosting world. in fact, the first dinner party we hosted together opened my eyes to g's superman-like ability to multitask the prepping, cooking, and cleaning in such a way that guests arrived bewildered to how everything came together so effortlessly. he had an ease about hosting, very much like my mother. i knew early on that i had met my match, the partner who wouldn't hesitate to claim the host title with me. 

it's interesting, though. as much as i love being a host, i sometimes wish we would be the guests. a lot of time and effort is invested into hosting a party, regardless of its size or occasion. and being forever hosts, g and i have self-imposed expectations: what we serve, how we serve it, and what kind of atmosphere we want to create. but then i think back to my childhood, when it was impossible for me to imagine not being the host family. we had a way of doing things; it felt right. these days, especially during this festive season, i have that same sentiment - of putting myself in the shoes of the forever guest and, instead, preferring to be the host.

when g and i host, we find solace in the actualization of said gathering. our individual ideas and combined passion fuel us to work together and share with our guests the fruit of our collaboration. it's a solidifying experience, to say the least. g and i embrace these roles wholeheartedly, for it's this position that allows us to give to others what we feel has been instilled in us: love.

from our holiday party, hosted this weekend:

the itch

i have the most intense itch right now - this unrelenting, persistent itch that commands serious attention. with the year coming to a close, and the big ass future ahead of us, i have an incredible yearning to pack my bags and travel.

when lili and chloe spent thanksgiving with us, i was reminded of the thrill of adventure - of being in foreign land, absorbing new sites, learning new customs, being stretched in the most humbling of ways. it's no secret that life is moving forward and big changes will inevitably happen, but that is exactly why we should see the world during these days, during this present.

now married, i feel like i have my foundation, my home in my heart. there's this sense of comfort in the unknown, a feeling that gives me strength when my mind wanders to the future. life is too short to wonder and dream, to stay still in the monotony. as much as i love my routine, i am eager to grow and explore this great world that is right in front of us.

i don't know what 2015 has in store for us, but i sure do hope it requires luggage, a passport, and a fine ink pen (holla postcards and snail mail!!).

a different kinda christmas

last week, i got news that i am scheduled to work christmas day. you can imagine the surprise, frustration, and disappointment i felt when i found out that i will be in the hospital, working, away from my family. i should have known this reality was bound to happen, considering i haven't had to work a single christmas in the four years i've been a nurse.

but this year feels different. it's the first christmas g and i are married, and in some way, it feels monumental to be able to share the holiday with my parents - the couple who witnessed our beginning and celebrated our union. and of course, there's the comfort of being in my childhood home during this festive time - the way mama decorates the house with lights, pine, and their humble christmas tree adorned with handmade ornaments from years past. i love tradition and i love sharing it with others.

after sulking about for a day, i finally came to terms with my reality and accepted it. looking at g sitting at his desk after we settled back into our studio from thanksgiving, a new light was shed. he is my family and we have a home (that will soon be adorned with winter cheer!!). sacrifices have to be made, as do new traditions.

wherever we are in this world, and with whomever we celebrate the season, joy will abound as long as we allow it. i choose to be grateful for this change, because although it's s stretch from my norm, the change encourages me to see the greatness right in front of me. and spending christmas with my husband is pretty great.

our first christmas together, 2010

christmas last year, 2013