A Woman on the Verge

A year in review. What does that mean to you? Do you look at simple experiences or do you integrate emotion into those experiences? Do you feel the intricacies of how every significant situation made you feel, what you learned from it, what hurt you, what became a blessing from the hurt?

Some years I go into this time of reflection with fear. Truly. Fear for what I have experienced, and not wanting to relive those experiences. Afraid that I wont know what I learned from them, or worse, that I hadn't learned anything. You get over that fear though. A walk down memory lane becomes less dark, but rather a path lit with realities you created along the way.

In years past  I see that there have been struggles along the way, and the path lit was straight and narrow. Taking all the right steps, making all the right turns, where bumps flattened out, where trees fallen had been lifted. Its a path fulfilled, its a path clean, its a path fresh and ready to transition me into a new year.

This year it's different. This year has been the hardest year of my life. Not only in experiences, but in true self discovery. Watching old family home videos the other night made me realize how quiet of a person I am. Maybe not always in the way it seems, but I catch myself in my own head. My words are the most powerful thing I have, Scribbled, and strung along lines of paper, waiting for someone to come along and understand them. I use this as a motto for my life, a channel for my creativity, and a token of my hope for every uncertainty my life holds.

I learned not only what it meant to hold onto someone, but I learned what it meant to let go. I learned that those we want to hold onto the most, are the hardest to keep a strong grasp on, they are the ones we fight the hardest for, at whatever expense {physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually}. I learned that holding on only brings tears. It's an inevitable abandonment. It's your worst fears come true, it's everything you wish so hard you could push away, without the strength to do it. I still don't know where that very thin line is. The one where you lose strength in holding on, where your emotions cause that vigor in which you retain a grasp to be translated into weakness, and where the right kind of strength takes over. But it happens, undeniably. Sometimes it takes days, other times, months, and in my case, years. Being caught up in your own head is a channel for flaws to arise, and instability to result. A clear mind, and a heavy heart cause that burden to finally lift, and you can let go. Sometimes I still wish I knew exactly how it happened. I wish I could diagram the process, but the inconsistency of the mixture is a disheartening recipe.

This year, I learned what it meant to love, but not be in love. I also learned what it meant to be truly angry. Anger so intense that it clouded everything, it stopped my feet, it sank me like quicksand. The only anger that has ever caused me to wonder if I could ever forgive. An anger that broke me, for however short a time, that fueled me in all the wrong ways.

And these are just the small lights along the way, the flickers on my path leading to catastrophe, to complete darkness, blackness that sank me into its depths and in its refusal pushed me to fight the hardest I have ever fought for anything.

The most important lesson I learned this year, has to do with what it means to exist in a world I don't control . I found success this year, a success that I have wished for so long I could experience. A life of mediocrity evaporated into my life where invincibility was a norm, and where the light that led my way was bright, far from a cry of perfection, but I didn't realize that brightness was blinding me.

Its like a train you ride for a while, vision clear, but the speed you take blurs the imperfections in the world around you. Your vision, so unfailing during that time doesn't see that, it sees the colors that come together. But that train never stays above ground for long, and at the blink of an eye you enter a tunnel. Dark and cold, your vision is no longer your own but put into someone else's hands.

You lose control.

This is the year that I found my faith. In the midst of threatening circumstances, in the midst of fear so blinding it takes your sight and extinguishes it, in the midst of a locked door with no key you find a way to move through it. God is the only way. He is the way I have moved mountains of fear this year, he is the only way I have taken back the right kind of control, and let him light my way.

Lessons within lessons within lessons.

Family and Friends are the glue that hold me together, the strength when I am weak and the light when everything around me goes dark. They are the support I need when my knees give out, they are the channel of understanding that keeps me sane, they are the truth in a world of lies.

I have learned a lot in the last year, but as I look back, I don't see that clear and finely lit path, but rather a collection of obstacles moved barely inches for me to pass. A messy stream of realizations that, rather than a light on the path my realizations form a star pattern in the sky which leads me to here. It's never going to be easy, a single blink can be the difference between light and dark.

I am a woman on the verge of something great. Something life changing, and yet uncertainty is the only thing that is certain. I live my life faithfully and without burden, but with a beautiful blindness that proves one lesson to remain true:

I would rather follow a collection of stars leading me  through a messy and beaten path, than to hold onto darkness.

Chasing Ghosts

Why do we feel the need to constantly chase after things that don't exist?
Maybe they never did. 

We lead ourselves into fantasies believing with everything that something, or someone, exists. Emotion leading us blindly to a faction of truth where lies exist. A lie within a truth which exists so scarcely that it masks nonexistence, creating a ghost.

You saw him there though. You remember his eyes, the way he smiled at you, the cadence of his voice and the tiptoeing of his feet as he climbed next to you. You can feel his arms around you, his words move through you, your heart both heavy and lifted at the same time. Most importantly you remember the care he took in every conversation, trying so hard to help you see his perspective. Those words that meant so much to you. 

And then it was if a claw came down and took him. Or the existence of him. And as the loneliness sets in you begin to wonder if there was something could have done differently, if there was some grave miscalculation that brought you here. Then you remember there can only be one, there was only meant to ever be one.And anyone who stands in between was meant to become a ghost, passing in the night. We learn not to chase the ghosts because of the fragmented reality it creates.

We move forward and hope that, that which we let slip into darkness was never meant to be our light.

A Powerful Downfall

Anger. 

Betrayal. 

Destruction of Trust.

I don't think I ever really understood the power of anger until just recently. I am not an angry person. I love even when it's difficult, give even when it is undeserved. Vulnerability in its most passive state. 

I've never thought twice about trusting those who I care about. I believe in honesty as if an innate characteristic of humanity. I observe the world through innocent eyes despite the true and undeniable pain I have felt so as to not become bitter. I have refused to believe in evil as primal and betrayal as a societal norm.

Anger. 

It's probably one of the most life threatening emotions. It has the ability to turn your life upside down; to tear your perspective into unrecognizable pieces; to disfigure rationale and question conviction. Anger is a betrayal of your mindfulness and a conquest of your innocence. 

The world, though observed through the same eyes, yields a very different spectacle. Resentful epiphany soaks your vessels by channel of an excessive heartbeat, weary concern, and disingenuous regard. Thoughtfulness becomes an inconvenience and the willful ability to defer any fragment of obstinance simply fades into oblivion.

You betray the perceptions that create you, you destroy that argument which supports humanity.

The destruction of trust, leads you blindly through pain. 

It leaves no allowance for gain, no hope for retrieval, and no truth where the lies have invaded.

Epiphainein

I have been feeling inspired lately. I have been feeling inspired by something I don't know that I have ever relied on too much before now. Mostly I find my inspiration in the world that surrounds me. I find it in nature, the way that the land has its own language,  how it speaks to me in therapy, as if it is the only energy that really fills me. I find it in the closest people to me, the ones that never leave my side, who never give up on me, and who remind me that hope is better than living in darkness. I find it in my faith, in the belief of a being so powerful that it guides me without a concrete presence, an idea crafted by the most divine nature, a concept of life that carries me.

But this time, it's so different. This time, I am inspired by myself. I spend so much time burdened by who I am. And so often has it led to me searching for confirmation from others. Validation that I am a good person, with a good heart, and a beautiful presence. A burden that has led me to the wrong relationships. A burden that has kept me from pursing the right ones. It is a burden that has forced me to look for someone or something that sees me, but yet who i truly am felt invisible,  even to myself.

The last two years of my life has been nothing short of being stuck on a plane constantly rocked by turbulence. Pain that knocked the wind out of me, and me trying to catch my breath with the air of yet another saturated situation. I have had a lot of time to think about where I have been, and the things I have seen. The mirrors that hold up in my memory reflect confusion,  they reflect a lost soul, they reflect weakness.  I have felt betrayed, by others in my life, by circumstances both within and beyond my control, by my emotions, and most of all by myself. Each reflection a stigma of sadness. Each eye sparkling with a fear of defeat.

I keep thinking that I should feel bitter, or resentful, about these things. That I should be jaded by the pain, blinded by the defeat, paralyzed with fear. But rather than a feeling of debilitating weakness, the muscles contract and with every pump is a stream of hope continuously flowing through me. Failures becoming my opportunuties, and my success' building a staircase of baselines that never seem to summit. My biggest fear being that with every passing situation that the reflection will start to read nothing, as opposed to emotion,  regardless of its positive or negative charge.

Yet I continue to glimpse back,  and retrospectively find a twinkle of hope in every sparkle of fear. Hope that something more is meant from me, hope that one day I will feel the cleansing release of love. Love from another person, love for something I do, and love for myself. I am inspired by my courage, designed to prove that optimism is stronger than pain and fear, designed to lift me above the failure, and plummet me into opportunity. I am inspired by my perseverance,  not just to continue moving forward,  but to continue to hope.  Hope that the future is brighter than anything defining my past. Hope that one day I will find someone who sees me, not only for all the best parts of me, but for all the worst.

Your beauty is defined by who you see when you look in the mirror, not by who people tell you to see. Your strength is defined by your failures, and your courage to rise above to opportunity. Hope can be disguised in fear, it can be limited by pain, it can be stripped away by distrust. When you let go of the resent you hold for yourself, you will begin to hope for the future. You are your own worst enemy,  isn't that what they say?

Finding an alli in yourself is more than a reliability, it is a validation.  Proving your courage is more than a declaration,  it is a staple of your self worth. Seeing yourself, is what brings the world to their feet.

Four White Walls

White.

Multiple meanings strung together

Incomplete, forgotten, uncertain

Mind voided, voice unheard, stories not yet begun

White. 

Formerly a color of comfort, now the color of fear.

Surrounded with no escape.

Meaningless panic 

Bound by circumstances.

Limited power.

I sat on the inside.

I forgot to look up.

Frantic. Motionless. 

I contemplate my next steps

No movement comes.

Not to my lips, nor to my feet.

Thoughts still racing.

Heart still pounding.

Does an answer exist?

Suddenly you're there

Vague and blurred, yet unmistakeable

You look up, fear keeps my eyes on you.

Gesturing up, calmness in each motion

My head tilts, light catches my iris

A circle of warmth draws closer

Pulls me, lifts me, breaks me free

I stand on a meadow of opportunity

My feet with adrenaline 

I see a horizon.

Beauty, Strength, Opportunity

All was lost and now I see

Life worth living

Love lasting

Hope fueling.

Faith worth keeping me here.

Wine soaked logic: Wasted Time.

Moments lost in translation. Lost in the universe never to be found again. These moments so significant in the minute, so memorable by the hour, so influential by the day. 

Mistaken. Lost. Hidden.

What is wasted time? Is it that time which we cling to so unaware of our surroundings? So stubborn about our future. So distressed by our past? We cling to this time in moments of emptiness to remind us that we have a right to feel it. To remind us that we didn't waste our life. 

What is the reality? The reality is that we have allowed ourselves to divulge into a picture so smeared, or so intricate and complex that all our eyes capture within the moment is a stroke of the brush and the colors which create it. We can look down and see our feet on the path, but what we do not realize is that as we draw closer to the idea of utopia, we find ourselves betrayed by reality.

The limitations of our canvas do not exist. To escape meant missing out on the masterpiece. To the colors within we felt connected to one another. We believed in the power of these  primary colors to become advanced to grow into something we have never known before. 

Time.

The clock twists. Logically, full of numbers, equations which never surprise us...What happens when those numbers become smeared? Like the colors of a painting? The numbers lose meaning, the time loses weight in logic, the circle of reason becomes a radius, constantly spinning, but never slowing for understanding, but rather becoming a hypnosis.

Painting with numbers, Its the time you realize doesn't exist, so much so that you forget your wasting it. So what creates this circumference of colors? Is it the man who calls you names? Is it the mistake you made that will haunt you forever? Is it the frustration that feels as though will always be there? Our spherical canvas that shows no escape route is created with these moments, spotted with mistakes, void of logic. 

Pain is illogical. Scars are unreasonable. 

But the result? That is a truly compelling vindication.
Our only guilt lies in the heavy heart which creates a perception of distortion. 

Afternoon in Monterey

What can I say about the opportunities I have been blessed with? What about the experiences I have had to discover my world far beyond the horizons that box me into my reality day after day?
My success', my failures?
For a long time I believed that I just deserved what I got, good or bad. Even had a few discussions with friends about the idea behind deserving the things that come in our life. Always playing on the side that we truly do deserve what we get. Here's the problem, we don't.

I have always been a strong advocate for choices. And those which we make everyday being the key to who we transform into. I learned about something else this week, when correlated the two ideas build an argument against deserving something versus simple energy in the universe. What you put out is what you get back.

Bear with me. I may need you to be a little more open minded than usual, what I am talking about, what I learned? It was all about faith. Faith in a higher power. They say that you never understand what it means to have faith until you feel it because it is such an extremely abstract idea. Faith doesn't have to be directly associated with religion. But whatever you believe in make sure you have faith that it is going to bring you happiness when you reach the end of your road.

I went to California this past week for vacation(that opportunity beyond my own horizons I was talking about earlier?). During the church service I attended the preacher told me a story. The story that changed a perception so firmly ingrained in me, and in many people my age.

He spoke of his nephew who was just 4 years old when he was diagnosed with cancer. Amongst several trials going through remissions and multiple reappearances the child died at this young age. *at which point the preacher broke into tears, an experience of grief so real that those listening so intently felt the pain* He moves on to explain the questions which arose out of this tragedy. "Why Mateo?" "Why do bad things happen to good people?" A panic so real that it brought tears to my eyes. The aftermath, the child parents split up, sadness and misunderstandings ruled their every move. Years of suffering as a result of this tragedy drove separations and ostracizing. One day, years after the child's passing, the mother met an old friend at a party. One year later the preacher expressed the joy he had to officiate a marriage ceremony for the two on a beautiful afternoon on a cliff overlooking Monterey and the bay.

The preacher went on to explain that in times of extreme tragedy it is difficult to see the joy, and in some cases that joy is resulted in a life other than our own. You see we will all always deal with pain and suffering, misunderstanding, and grief... But the results, whether experienced by you or someone  down the road, when we offer up our suffering is that we allow joy to come from it. It doesn't mean we stop suffering, in some cases we suffer more. That's when faith comes in. You believe that the truths which create your persona are powerful beyond your capabilities. An understanding that each time you feel pain, through faith, a higher power pulls through to benefit others. Whether it be a soul in need of grace, or someone who has worked hard and it's their time for success.

Mateo died, and if you believe in eternal life, that was his happy ending. Even if you believe another truth about life and who we are at the end, you cannot argue the joy that came from this suffering. Two souls connected and became one. With one tragedy, came one celebration, *atleast* one happy ending.

Under this logic alone and with the understanding that faith is primary, we see that nothing is ever deserved. When the good opportunities come knocking, or when something great happens for you, it means someone somewhere has offered up their suffering for a stranger, and when you are suffering it just means that it's your turn to offer it up. The cycle continues to turn and those with great faith allow the engine to keep running on our trusted understandings of life and love, hope, and our everyday pursuit of happiness. We simply choose to take part. This is the only real control we have over a joyful result from suffering.

So why now? Why did I question this so intensely when I heard the story? Why did I analyze it? I visited Monterey during the latter part of my trip, I looked out onto the bay, I saw land untouched, water cleansing the cliffs, I felt that energy. Amidst a difficult time in my life I felt that joy of Monterey. I yearned for that to translate into my life, but I also knew it wasn't my time for Monterey.

It would always be there, waiting, right now it was my time to suffer, but not with misunderstanding. It was my time to offer up the pain. I stopped asking "Why me?", because those souls that needed saving needed the grace more than me at the time.

I know I'll continue to suffer, but I would rather suffer in faith than feel joy without.

Joy without faith is empty. Faith is in the energy of the sea, its in the clean lines of the sky as it creates the horizon, it's in the cliffs imperfect with scars, its in waves recovering the land.

Our plan is not a plan at all, it is in the scars created, and the anticipation that
our afternoon in Monterey is coming.

I don't know about you, but I can't wait.

An Affair with Perception

I don't think we ever stop having a quarter life crisis.

Imagine a time in your life where you felt like everything was perfect.  You were happy in your relationships, 100%. You were happy at work, successful and respected. You were happy with yourself, in love with who you are. If you're between the ages of 21 and 29 I would say these moments are few and far between.

From my experience there is a disconnect in these years. A learning curve. We start taking the people our parents raised us to be and we are given the free will to roam free with it. To discover our lives amidst a string of unrealistic expectations and dreams that seem so far out of reach. Those who see these obstacles as a wall rather than a tunnel are doing themselves a terrible disservice.

You will never get it right,  if you don't do it wrong the first time.

I am 25 years old and at the center of this pie of flirtations. A flirtation with success, with a lucrative career, with the cute boy from the coffee shop, and with the person I wake up and see every morning in the mirror. I used to avoid eye contact with the compilation of intricate and vulnerable ingredients in my life because I was afraid of rejection,  afraid of failing,  and afraid of missing an opportunity.

We are all guilty of it.
When was the last time you saw someone you thought was attractive and walked up to say hello?
We avoid confrontation for fear of disingenuous sentiment or nonchalance. 
When was the last time you opened yourself up and flirted with the idea of taking a risk in your career to make you successful? 
We thrive in the comfort of our own realities to bypass anything associated with failure or becoming an enigma of incompetence. 
When was the last time you looked in the mirror, and saw not only with your eyes but with your mind, the soul and beauty in the person staring back at you?
We pick apart our flaws to mask the feeling of being content in who we are.  Taught by society that we will never be good enough.  We lust after perfection to deflect a state of settlement, leading to the false belief that being wrapped up in ourselves is any sort of imprisonment by our own minds.

We stand slaves to the affair we have everyday with perception.

The most powerful perceptions are a result of the idea that humanity transcends from one idealistic formula. That there is a standard that we as humans are required to meet. A standard so socially reflective that influence alone, rather individuality and uniqueness, is the denominator.

What if, one day, we all just decided that we were going to stop perceiving our lives to be a certain way?
If we stopped being ruled by the dominance of worldly perceptions and cherish our own personal gravity.  What if we stood with our feet planted firmly on the ground and developed our character and personality to integrate in and within each other, rather than conform to those around us?

Imagine how different our affair would be. Imagine how innocent the flirtations would become.  Imagine the true impact we could make on these years so significant to our future.

I am 25 years old, and I am having an affair.

*An affair with my success. 

*An affair with my confidence.

*An affair with myself.

Globe of Ambition in a World of Reality

I've been thinking about life and the gravity that surrounds it more and more lately. The ambition which, seemingly supressed, is re-surfacing rapidly. This globe of opportunity and my role in its reality.

Living in a world so focused on points of reality that are designated to faint hearts and narrow minds. Logic so strictly conceived by the fearful. How do you escape? How do you fight the struggle of this financial independence that threatens the wild mind to remain comfortable in being content? Dreams are dreams. The questions are only as difficult as you choose to perceive.

You see, influence is powerful. Whether that influence is a person, a place, or a circumstance. So unavoidable, forced upon us with such great insistency. We don't side step it, we can't duck to miss it, we walk right into it and keep hoping silently that it won't swallow us whole. Inspiration found in the darkest of places is still, at times, not enough to pull us from the hole in which comfort takes the reign over us.

The hole, dug deeper by our attempts to climb out, is significant of the complications which placed us there to begin with. And as that person,  or that place,  or that circumstance stands so defiantly above us we become smaller, we sink into the reality that hurts us the least.

I can't say that I was never small. In fact, I was tiny. But somehow, by grace and faith in something larger and more powerful than my own determination  brought me to this moment,  to these nights of inspiration where I feel ambition overpowering me and the idea behind discovery outpouring from the veins which keep me alive.

There's no obstacle in this world that isn't centered around this idea of familiarity. A struggle so fierce that our innate fear of loneliness, were we to attempt an escape, swallows passion and spontaneity.

But one day we wake up from our field of dreams, which in the past have haunted us, and we change our perception of reality.  The frame in which our mind integrates loneliness and fear to correlate with incapability is eliminated.  For a split second you think of turning back but the light shining ahead is warmer, and full of the possibility only blinded by our past interpretation.

Suddenly, the globe is our world. We live our days driven by the reality that pipe dreams are no longer unattainable.  We stop running from our mistakes and start running towards our success.  The dreams that seemed so far are now but within an arms reach. Outstretched,  our determination allows us to persevere through the pain of that which so violently held us back.

Because we don't see positivity as a thought within a moment,  but rather, our strength. We don't see negativity as our enemy but rather, a worthy opponent.  Pushing through without a doubt in our, now widespread, imagination that the peak is never reached. Our ability to carry on a life of always learning and experiencing is a drug.

We reach out and every day capture a new discovery within that which surrounds us.

We wait, patiently.
We hope, loudly.
We dream, and yet we never fall asleep.

I'm taking charge of my life, is that alright?

I am the owner of my life.
I am the chaser of my dreams.
I am the glue of my own ambition.
I am the keeper of my future
I am the owner of my life.

Passion.
Intense, Primal, Forceful.
A cloud to cover vision.
A beautiful storm.
Passionate rain, touching my lips.
Demanding emotion.
Passionate passion.

Empowerment.
True,  uninhibited,  selfish as it is.
Empowerment
True, power.

Cleansing.
Mind, Body, and Soul.
I wash away the complications.
Cleaner than ever before.
I give myself permission to start fresh

Reason.
Logical, Factual, and Bountiful.
A channel of hope renewed.
A channel of guilt erased.
Reasonable reason.

A future bright.
A past forgotten.
A present perspective.

Mind forward,
Back unturned.
Forward I move.
There's no looking back.

Waiting, Hoping, Wishing

Why do things end? Why do people leave? What's the point of falling in love when all it ever does is end in hurt? 

I would hate him so much more if I didn't love him so much.

Our story is so much like history, over before we even knew it began.

Missing is a part of life. Whether you are missing some one, some thing,  some emotion, some feeling, some thought, or some memory. You miss chances and opportunities, meanings and theories, lessons and triumphs. Moments pass in an instant and then are left behind regretted by those who never took the opportunity to revel in them, and missed by those who so intensely cherished them.

Life is a series of MIStakes and MISunderstandings

The memories you left behind haunt me as if the light was never there. Moments so vivid to me, that they couldn't have been made up. Yet the light, the passion, the feeling held so carefully and faultless was my own MISrepresentation. Your hand, although extended,  never grasped. Your heart although so seemingly strong, was weak. Your life, so unsure and inconsistent,  formed a lie which you told me over and over again.

So why do I miss these moments?  Why can't the memory of you end with your disappearance?

Why do I continue to be driven by hope, when all my heart can truly do is fear.

Humanity is messy, it's complex in nature. Resisting fear is not for the faint of heart, and hope is for the foolish.  But if I wait, I hope, and I wish then I give myself the opportunity to live. Hope out-stands fear. Love overrules hate.
And missing someone is a whole lot better than never knowing them at all.

Letting go means remembering these things. It's that separation and distinguish between those who wait, and those who hope. I have waited for you forever,  each day crushing my hope more and more. So I let go of the burden connected to the wait, and I allow hope to invade. I give myself the permission to wish for your happiness and to wish for your success. While reminding myself that these are my dreams as well.

Broken things cannot be fixed through someone else's heart. No matter how much I cared my heart was never the glue you needed. The glue came from within. The strength as your guide. And a new day as your opportunity.

So I will miss you, as the moments replay in my mind; but as this ending was inevitable, our fates are full of promise.

So...

As I waited--
so will you, 

As I hope--
you will too, 

As I wish--
you will find the light you need.

Pain at the Hand of Beauty

How do you see yourself? 

When you wake up fresh from a dream and carry yourself to the mirror in the morning, who do you see? 

I know we all wish we could wake up powdered faces, sin circles under the eyes, hair combed. Who do I see? See I am the type of person who looks like someone beats her up in her sleep. I am not kidding either, ask my friends, somehow, my hair manages to literally stick in every single direction when I wake up in the morning. Usually the dark circles are mixed with some makeup that didn't come off in the wash the night before, skin looks clean but blotchy. What if we woke up in the morning and started our day believing that fresh awoken, sleepy face that slowly awakening body, was beautiful?

How different would our day be if we saw perfection in the imperfections of an image so pure, and so fresh, and so untouched as the image we see first thing in the morning. Can you imagine where each step in getting ready would take us? And more than that can you imagine the confidence we would inevitably carry ourselves with were we to begin our day with a simple thought?

I am beautiful.

I know more than most how it feels to want to change everything about yourself. I've always been the taller one, the bigger one, the different one. I never allowed myself to hear the words that described the beauty I felt like I possessed. The words that invested themselves in me as confidence took a long time to develop into something that was cognizant to my everyday being.

I know that I have a long way to go, but look at how far I've come. 

Unless you see beauty within yourself, no one will ever see that beauty. Unless you commit to the likelihood that your confidence will carry you, you will continue to hide behind the aspects in your life you feel define you. Unless you choose to let your own words, your own thoughts, your own beliefs, and your own actions be the direct representation and the ultimate definition of your being? You are not going to be free from the binds that will continue to hold you back.

So how did I build this confidence? I began by taking out judgment, criticism, and the absolute insane idea of perfection and more than that, what society teaches us is perfection. 

I looked at myself and I forced myself to be inspired by the person staring back at me.

I looked at my love handles as something to love, and my smile as something to cherish, 

I looked at my eyes as a token of peace and my height and strength as a sign of perseverance.

 I looked at the softness of my features as a channel of youth and innocence, 

my hands as a channel of motivation. 

I saw my mouth as a channel of dedication, and my heart as a channel of hope. 

I saw a potential in each imperfection as an intimate relationship with progression towards becoming a better person. I don't look at my weight as an obstacle anymore, but rather an opportunity. To find an abstract idea in which I can thrive in, a future I can work for, health which I can live vivaciously through.

I stand upon this box, which I have built despite hardships. I watch the threatening hands of the world attempt to break me. And sometimes I fall, I look at my knees, and the skin which holds me together? Broken. 

Pain by the hand of Beauty. 

I retrieve my composure by reassurance, and step up again with a weary soul. Waiting for the next judgment, the next whisper, the next stare. I refuse to be enslaved by the ideas meant to tear me down. I look up, into that morning bathroom mirror, and I tell myself; 

You have a beautiful body. You have a beautiful soul. 

Your confidence can change the world.

Out with the old, In with the new

New Year, New You.

 

We all have those years. You know the years that feel as though they couldn't come to an end fast enough. The years that you anticipate January 1st as if it day by day time is moving slower and slower. That, was my year.

 

So why reflect? Why make the decision to turn your life around because of a few hours, and few days, a moment?

 

There is something about the societal demands of the holiday. There is something very special about our opportunity to create the possibility of new and improved goals, plans, and approaches. We spend so much time on the fast pace taking in our daily lives on a big picture. We don't pick apart the situations to develop an insight for ourselves on how the situations became so complicated, or how we became so bitter in the process.The reflection process is our ability to key into those areas. Find the points in time where positive thinking and zen could have completely sent the situation in a different direction.

 

I am not one to bathe in regret or even allow myself to be consumed by it on a small scale. However I think there is a positivity to allowing ourselves to realize regret and learn from it.

 

I look at all of my experiences from the last year with a hardened heart. I believe that these experiences truly had the ability to break me. The unforgivable actions of others towards me, the disrespect, the incoherency of feelings that lead to an ultimate demise. I see the periods of time where I shut down completely staring into space without a thought in my head, and pain consuming me from every angle.

 

There is always positivity in pain.

 

Heading into the new year I felt a strong pull towards preparing myself with a helmet as I hit the wall of another year gone, and as I ran full speed into the wall separating, I left my bags of uncherished relationships, regretful actions, and painful memories on a side to which I cannot retrieve them.

 

Knocking down the wall the pain was welcomed as I entered the new year letting go of the love that nearly broke me, the words that brought me so much pain, and the anxiety caused by uncertainty, and I looked forward to the possibility of regaining my control, reinventing my strength, and finding myself.   

 

So New Year, New Me? Yeah, I would like to think so. But I challenge you this much. Make your resolutions and stick to them. But on the off chance that you find more possibility in the day, resolve to making yourself better every single day.

 

Happy 2014!!