Born to Fly

Restless. 

Heart Racing.

Mind turned on high volume, and running on every last speck of energy I have. 

Waiting for that rush of energy, that comes when I least expect it.

Anticipation. 

Yearning. 

Fly. 

Focused as I glide through my day, lost in a sea of thought without distraction.

Worry.

Fear. 

Slow Down. 

Listening to my future on Repeat. Keeping me from singing in the present.

Time. 

Youth.

Experience.

I've learned to train before you run, and warm up before you race. 

Freedom.

Determination.

Passion. 

 I was Born to Fly. 

Translating "fate" into "faith"

Everyday life seems to be weighing down, I forget that I am in this for the long haul, that my life is just beginning, and that I have so much more time to do everything I want to do. 

I am soaring through my career at a speed that translates the very impatience within my soul. As if the sacrifices I am making today, are not going to put me where I desire to be tomorrow.

I don't talk too much about love on here, mainly because I don't want to wallow in drama, or seem openly vulnerable. I've never been too lucky in love. Whether it was because we were too young to make those big decisions, or we were too insecure to be mature about the decisions we were forced to make. The relationships I have found myself in, I will admit, have consumed me. Those boys were factions of my imagination, because they never turned out to be as good as I thought they were. They were never that full package. Therefore, they could never be the man I needed them to be. 

To be honest, I am 24 years old, and with every experience I have, and every feeling that does creep up on me, I am still learning what I want in a man. When I pull from every experience I have, every feeling I allow myself to feel runs through my body like fuel to an engine. The memories from both of these serve as reminders towards what I am doing, where I am going. But sometimes, I still feel so stuck. Like I somehow have to be everything at once for someone in order to fall in love, or make a relationship work. I realize this may all sound a bit jaded, like all I've ever experienced is heartache. The jaded corners of my past fade like lines on a chalkboard, they will never fully disappear. 

Destiny is such a teenage pop story concept, the quicker we grow up the more we frame that idea of fate into faith.

My mother raised me to be a strong woman, to recognize my mistakes, but to not put up with making the same one twice. She taught me to be a avid listener, and a passionate believer in the good of life and the people who make up my own. I thank my lucky stars every day for the upbringing I had, without it I would be lost. Even more than I am now. 

Positive thinking, sometimes, can be the most difficult thing you do.

There are days when I simply rise above it all. I adopt a new perspective and a run with it until I forget what it was that I was rising above in the first place.

Last night, I had a chance to thrive in the practicality of this concept. I sat on the ledge of my bedroom window, looking out into a city skyline blurred by the flurries of snow which hid its complete beauty. At the same time, I felt as though I was seeing the city in a new light. Like above all the chaos and insensitivity there is something beautiful and unseen. Like the quiet of the night was a clean slate to the negativity of the day. Its moments like these that we all need on occasion. A perspective so innately original, so captivating and refreshing, and we remember why we go through everything else. 

Those moments, imprisoned in time yet brought with me as a memory, help me to accept the sacrifices I am making so that at the end of my road, my big picture, is even more developed. The loneliness drips through my painting like teardrops, but I have to know that its all worth something in the end. 

The scars and tears, so harsh and ineffective in the moment create the perfect geometry to an otherwise cluttered yet exciting journey. 

Blindly Composing Reality

Why are we programmed to constantly think about what comes next? 

Our minds are so focused on what could be, what might be, and what should be. Its infectious of our entire persona, it takes over our membranes and restrains us each and every day. We are so constrained and so unable to see the opportunity in flexibility, the comfort in each step we take, because we are not inspired by the journey, but obsessed with the destination.


Where's the reality in that? There is no reality in a race ran blind, a paper written asleep, a meal cooked with no ingredients. Its the substance of the makeup that create a clear reality in the end. What's the point in obsessing over a destination when we, ourselves, don't know what it is?


We spend our days in a crazy ambition, in a blur of misunderstood fury centered around dreams which we cannot translate into a language. We spend our days struggling with the right questions to ask, the right answers to give, and the right things to say. What would happen, if we decided to focus on each moment as it came?


The moments would be that more precious, and they would never disappoint, because they were not formerly a preconceived perfection. The breaths drawn in, and blown out would move with the fluidity at which we took them, without breaks and inconsistencies. We would see our worlds transform into seconds, spread out over periods of time, and we could better analyze both the accomplishments and failures that bring us joy in the end.

More than the destination, or even the small steps in our journey, is understanding the motivation behind each of our own personal determination. 

Spinning recklessly can result from extreme caution if we choose to display wild forms of uncertainty in each move we make. 

Failing miserably can result from determination if we choose to misinterpret our own ambition. 

Embracing Ambition

What is meant by a time for reflection? And further than that, do we choose when and where we do such thinking? It is my belief that these moments of realization, focus, and thought provoking analysis come at random, they come during times where our minds are at peace and our hearts are wandering, searching for answers that only exist in our peripheral view.

I am inspired, I am observant, I analyze, commit, and execute. The view of white racing past me brings peace to my mind, regardless of the task at hand; and, as my logic focus' on the snow stained highways, my mind wanders to a place much further away. 

I begin to see myself in the future, as I have done so many times before, and I see myself as the very person I hope to become. I see myself as even more educated, cultured, and traveled. I see myself as a strong and independent businesswoman, who makes a true and significant difference in this industry which, for as long as I can remember, I have truly loved. As if in a realistic daydream, my mind comes back to the circumstances and situations that compose my current reality. The questions flow within me about the logic of it all. Am I in any position to become that person? Have I accomplished enough to be deserving of that person? Where does my determination, my focus, and my passion truly lie?

The happiest moment of my reflection lies within the abstract understanding of each and every intricacy of these answers. The reality which brings me to conclusive evidence of my path cleared of misunderstandings, at least for a little while.

I start to become inspired by the journey, as it unfolds before my eyes, the journey I have yet to embark upon. I begin to feel emotion transforming my thoughts, and invoking excitement within my calm and steady soul.

Those who believe in the power of inspiration, will thrive in their ambition.

An Infinite String of Adjustments

My mind is blocked, there is no formation of understandings, there is no portrayal of organization.

My life is in a current state of adjustments. 

It really makes you think, it makes you wonder how you could possibly take on more than you are right now. How you deal with the changes that are forced upon you, and how you initiate change in yourself. When you feel so blocked, so uninspired by the events that tragically form your day. How is this routine that you find yourself in going to keep you happy, even if you find yourself in a current state of content. 

Because I am not just going through the motions. 

Everything I do, everyday, I do with heart, with logic, and with flexibility. The thoughts enter and leave my mind with differentiation and I embrace the idea that they will forever imprint me with certain feelings, beliefs, and values. I take on my daily responsibilities with vigor, intent, and determination for their completion. I allow myself to embrace the reality of the unknown, whether that lie in time, space, or dependence.

I see my daily routine as an adventure, rather than a burden.

Long days will inevitably accompany this mindset. It will be as if a million things lie before you, and even more comes to be as you race through your jungle of responsibilities. The trees do not clear for even a moment to allow you to catch your breath, life is chasing you constantly, and keeping up to the standard you place yourself at will determine how you feel when you finally reach the clearing. In the clearing you will find rejuvenation, you will see a lake of intuition, and of thought provoking excitement. 

I am a woman on the edge, being chased by life, and jumping over rocks of obstacles, only to land in a pool of adjustments. But the run isn't determined by all that. I remain calm in the face of intensity as I embrace every step, every fault, and every breath. I welcome the uncertainties with an open heart, and despite the fatigue and misunderstanding, I simply move forward, into a world I know I will conquer,

Into a life I know will bring me happiness.

Becoming the painter of unmistakable dreams

I looked at myself in the mirror the other day as I was getting ready for work and realized how differently I saw myself now than even just a short month ago. Its amazing to me still the amazing gifts life has in store for me. I don't have everything, and as much as I want to believe that my life is going to follow the path I have so intricately created in my mind, I know that its not possible. I know I still have to wake up every morning and paint my picture stroke by stroke.

Some strokes will be smooth, and without imperfections. As if completely comfortable moving gracefully across the white canvas. Those are the moves I make in certainty, without fear, without hesitation, and with ease. The smooth strokes are not the focal point of this picture though, they are the strokes that were unfinished or imperfect in the past, but now are the design of my current understandings. The areas of my personality, the areas of my skills and talents that I am sure of. These strokes are the ones that within their linear nature create the perfect background for the imperfections that will inevitably follow. 

For just as in life, I know these next steps to be truer than anything I could ever imagine. The harsh and unfinished lines of my creation. The faded but not erased portions of my life. These lines so clearly made with a slow and fearful hand, worried about the direction, the color, or the likelihood of failure. They are rough and pointed, some pushed firmly into place followed by a degree of incomplete beauty. These are the strokes that keep my picture animated, that keep my story recording, and that keep my life unwinding. 

There are points in my masterpiece where there is a stillness of motion, where there is a tampered understanding of flexibility and forward moving. Days where a simple dot, or circle, make more of a difference than a star. Where the canvas craves my stroke, my color, my attention. In time I have learned the importance of observing the painting as much as I add to it. To analyze the strokes, the movement, the space between and within the designs that both tragically and graciously determine the overall picture. 

But alas, the painter will continue to paint, and my legs will always move forward. For with understanding, courage, and strength the canvas will continue to grow. Paint splattered and so imperfectly beautiful I see no end to the possibility of completion. I look for happiness in the unknown, and opportunity in each intersecting line. 

I allow the fear to subside, and the adrenaline to drive. For a wheel taken with certainty will never bring you happiness. Looking out to a canvas of unending indulgences drive you to become the true creator, and the true representation of the colors with which you choose to paint.