In the moment: new fall stories

NYC October 2012

As I walked out into my living room this morning, I was greeted with the smell of fall. I had left the window open the night before, allowing the crisp air and a cool breeze to enter and settle into the room. The sky looked gray but that feeling of newness that fall brings, that feeling I had been longing for, finally arrived.

I'm a summer baby, born at the end of July, but fall is my season. It is when I come alive. When the leaves change colors, a sense of urgency to start anew emerges inside of me, and suddenly I, too, want a change.

This year has been rough. Financially. For the first half, I was discouraged, confused, and lost about where I wanted to go with my career. I questioned whether all the choices I had made up to this point were wrong.

The start of summer kicked me in the butt with barely any work coming in, which meant no money in the pipeline. At the same time, I had all of these pre-planned trips (of course, made before the work/money slump). July came and I was a stress-case. I thought it would be really irresponsible if I went on all of those trips when I didn't know when paychecks would start coming in again. I fretted, contemplated, then declared war against my calculator. It was telling me not to go, and I so wanted to go.

I went.

But, not without giving it a lot of thought. And not without a financial plan to ensure I didn't end up homeless by September. So, I wasn't completely irresponsible.

Then, what I did was I took the work slump and turned it into an opportunity to re-evaluate my career. Time that I didn't have much of before to take a close look at my mistakes and map out what I needed to do to make some needed changes. Since I had several trips planned out, it was also an opportunity to vacation without the burden of deadlines hanging over me. I got to immerse myself in the experience of wine tasting in Napa, learning the culture of New Orleans, and hiking in Zion.

What could have been a bad summer turned into a really good one with just a little change in perspective. Instead of telling a story of failure and stress, I get to tell the story of the summer I moved out of my comfort zone and had an amazing time.

Now, it's fall, the earth's open invitation for change and new beginnings. A perfect time to start another story. And I'm ready for one. At this point I'm not quite sure yet what the plot or theme will be, but I know it involves my career and writing moving into another direction. The details are still in its preliminary draft, but at least I'm writing it. And that's a start.
  

This moment: a writer's rant to find her voice

I've tried to write a post for the last two hours, but halfway through, I hit a wall. The words seemed force. They didn't come naturally. They didn't sound like me. They didn't sound like me because I was making them sound like someone else's voice. I tend to do that when I find a voice that I like, a voice that pulls me in. I start thinking I want to write like that. I like that person's voice and I want to sound just like that person. Maybe if my voice was like that person's I'd have more readers or I'd finally get something published. So, I try to mimic, and it never works.

Because it's not my voice.

I once heard someone say that copying someone else's voice not only cheats you out of getting your's heard but it also deprives the world from hearing what you have to say. Since most written subjects are universal, what makes each story unique is the voice of the writer. And that was why my college poetry professor and adviser kept telling me to find my voice and once I did, to not be afraid to let it out.  

But I struggle with that. Being a writer we bare our souls with our words, our voice. And that can be terrifying because it makes us vulnerable, craving for acceptance of our work, our stories. I've been reading a lot of posts on the 31-Dayer Facebook page about concerns that the challenge has not brought much traffic to the blogs. And I'm guilty of that concern, as well. We're writers and we want readers. We write to be read. It goes hand in hand.

Yet, I also believe that writing is a personal journey, where there's a lot to be gained and those are not lost just because the experience was not shared with others. That's what I tell myself to keep me writing. We need to practice our skill. And that's what this writing challenge is all about, right? To push us to write.

And boy, it's pushing me. It's kicking my arse.

Because it has been a challenge. For one, there's the commitment. It takes a lot of time to write everyday. It takes even more time when you know you're going to publish it for all of blog world to read. It takes time that I don't have.

But again, I'm doing it. I'm doing it because I'm tired of hearing myself talk about how I want to be a writer but I don't spend nearly enough time writing (outside of what I write for work, that is). I don't spend the time necessary to finish my novel and the collection of short stories I've started. I'm just tired of starting something and not finishing it. So, even if this post has become a rant of some sort, I'm writing. And I'm writing in my voice.

Sometimes, if going on a rant is what it takes to find your voice, do it. Just write.

Paying attention to now: my brushing teeth exercise

If you're anything like me, your mind will probably start to wander off after this sentence. Maybe you have the television on and the commercial for the new season of American Horror Story came on. You can't help but look up just as the two-headed woman appears on the screen. You wonder what her story line will be although you have never seen an episode of American Horror Story before, and you don't have any intention of watching the new season so you'll never find out. This new season seems to be about the circus and you start thinking about how the circus is freaky and how clowns are scarier than that doll Annabelle. You have no intention of watching Annabelle either. Although you don't want to admit it, dolls have frightened you your entire life, so you wonder why you're even thinking about them right now. Then you remember that you were reading a blog post, so your eyes return to the computer screen.

Our minds constantly wander. True or false?

For me, it's true and false. When I am working, researching some legal issue or writing a brief, my mind becomes so focused on what I'm doing that I forget to eat or drink until my stomach starts complaining from starvation and my head starts pounding from dehydration. There had been many occasions when I've been so fixated on what I was working on that I didn't even notice the secretary enter my office and drop off mail on my desk.

But, again, I've also been equally guilty of doing something while thinking about ten million other things except what I was doing. As I mentioned before, I do a lot of story or blog crafting in my car while I'm stuck in traffic. I'm usually thinking about my to-do list for the day's work while I'm making the bed, packing my lunch, and throwing out the trash. Sometimes, I get in my car and forget whether I turned off the stove or the lights or even locked the door because while doing those things I was contemplating about whether I should take the 405 to the office or a different route. Many times my mind is 3 steps or 5 hours ahead, and after awhile, that takes its toll.

So, a few months ago, I took a series of mindfulness classes based on the book Mindfulness, An Eight-Week Plan for Finding Peace in a Frantic World by Mark Williams and Danny Penmann. The book came with eight mindful meditations that we practiced during the weekly hour session. Then, during the rest of the week, we had meditation homework to help us continue with the practice.  

One morning, after three weeks into the meditation exercises, while applying mascara on I heard a soft rustling sound. At first I didn't know what it was. I stopped what I was doing so I can listen more closely. When I didn't hear the sound again, I continued to apply mascara. The rustling sound became louder. That was when I realized the sound was the mascara brush stroking my lashes. It was a sound I had never heard before. It made me giddy with excitement I started laughing. I realized, then, that when you pay attention to the mundane tasks, you may hear, see, smell, feel and experience them in a completely new and different way, making them rather extraordinary.

Now, I'm by no means an expert on mindfulness. My mind is still constantly racing through one thought after another. I don't always hear the mascara brush stroking my lashes. On most days, I don't even remember putting on mascara.

But, when I start feeling burnt out, when my brain starts feeling like it's going to explode, I try to slow it down by paying attention to the now. If in my car, I read the license plates of the cars in front of me. I pay attention to the color and model of the car, and whether there appears to be one or more occupants inside. While washing the dishes, I pay attention to the water running through my hands, the sensation of the wet and slippery glass on my fingers. While making the bed, I pay attention to the wrinkles on the sheets and the sound of the cotton as I straighten them out with my hands. But, the best mindfulness exercise I give myself is while I'm brushing my teeth. There are so many senses going on at once and I practice paying attention to each one by acknowledging them: the sound of the electric toothbrush and the sight of the foam that builds up as I move the brush up and down, side to side; the feel of the spinning brushes against my teeth; the minty smell and taste of the toothpaste, and the cold sensation it leaves in my mouth. This two-minute exercise of mindfulness while brushing my teeth helps me become present and I've found that on the mornings that I do it, my brain feels more organized and rejuvenated.

What do you do to practice mindfulness? 

The importance in looking back

It was not until I got home at almost eleven last night that I remembered I was supposed to write everyday and I had completely missed writing for Day 4. I thought then that I had an hour to whip something up and I should just write about anything that came to mind. Write it quick and at least I did my writing for the day. 

But I was exhausted. I had been out of the house since 6:00 a.m. only to return for about an hour to shower and change after my run. I really didn't feel like writing. Sleep was what my body craved since I've only had a total of eight hours of it in the last two days.

I made the decision not to write, and for a moment I felt like a failure. It was Day 4 and I had already failed. Then, I took a step back and reminded myself that I just had a full day with people I loved - a full day of being present, being in the moment - so I shouldn't end it with feeling like a failure. There are days we can't do it all. I couldn't write yesterday. We make choices on how we spend our time. Yesterday, I made good choices.  

And today, I hope to make good choices, as well. I'm starting it with writing about looking back - how sometimes it's important to look back at where you came from to see how far you've come. Sometimes, in looking back you catch a different, but absolutely beautiful, view of the sunset sky that you would not have otherwise noticed if you kept your eyes fixated ahead.

The idea of living "in the moment" usually imply never looking back at what had past. But, I don't think so. It's important to look back. The danger comes when you dwell on it and you forget where you're at. Otherwise, glance at what you left behind for it carries the lessons that move you ahead.

Last night my friend and I talked about old relationships and what we learned from them. I've found that the end of any relationship, even when it was bad and unhealthy, is always sad and painful. But, what I've also found is that with every ending comes a new beginning. It's cliche, I know. But, it's a cliche that's true.

It's difficult to see that there's a tomorrow, albeit a better tomorrow, when you're in the midst of heartache. It feels like your pain will kill you because your whole body hurts. A year ago I finally realized the end of a long and very trying friendship. I remember crying all night as I mourned this loss. There were moments I couldn't breathe and couldn't see through my tears. I felt like my tears would never stop running. My eyes were so sore and swollen I didn't think I could step out of the house for a week.

But, I got through that night. In the morning, I got up, washed my face, and as I looked in the mirror at my tired eyes, I knew I was going to be okay. I had cried in the same way over another relationship ten years before, and I thought back then that my pain was literally going to kill me. It didn't. So, I knew that the pain I was feeling that night, that morning, would also pass.

Now, a year later, that pain is only a memory that I can talk about without it cutting me inside. What I realized last night in looking back and talking about it was how the end of that relationship, and the incredible pain it caused, paved the way to where I am right now: happy.

It took pushing through the pain until I was beyond it. But, I knew that I could because I knew, I learned, that God doesn't give us trials we cannot handle. I did it ten years ago. Slowly and horribly because I didn't have that lesson. I didn't know then. But last year, when I was going through my heartbreak, I knew. And from looking back, I told myself I was going to do better this time around. I told myself this time I was going to push harder because although it felt like the pain was going to kill me, it didn't. It didn't kill me ten years ago, and it wasn't going to kill me this time.

It has been an amazing year - a year filled with beautiful new beginnings. And although there has been trials, and there will continue to be trials, I'll be okay. Because I know better now. And as the words of Maya Angelou, when you know better, you do better.
  

"Snow globe" moments

I really didn't know what I was going to write about for today's post. Some days words don't come very easily. It may have a lot to do with the lack of sleep I got last night, and then, the stress of having to file a brief this morning. No matter how many times I re-read my arguments and double-check my spelling, grammar, and that I put the correct client's name on it, I still always get this anxious feeling when I file briefs. It's the perfectionist in me.

Anyhow, even though I really didn't plan for what this post would be about, I knew that it wasn't going to be about my job. So, let's move along ...

... to this moment ...

I left the office early with the intention of going home just to do some more work. I thought that at least it would be in the comfort of my home, where I can sit on the couch in my PJs while I read and analyzed reports. But, the moment I stepped inside I had this aching need to grab one of my favorite books - "One Day." 

Then, I headed to my balcony with book and coffee in hand. I took a photo of my unplanned and spontaneous Friday afternoon coffee date with Emma and Dex, and posted it on Instagram. Then, I thought I would use it as my photo for today's post. Maybe it would inspire some words to come to me.

As I stared at the computer screen, pondering on what to write and at the same time stressing that I would completely fail this challenge on the third day and that I should really be working because I still had tons of reports to review, not to mention the two volumes of transcripts I needed to finish by Sunday, I finally took a deep breath and looked up. That was when I saw the changing colors of the sky behind my laptop, smelled the vanilla scented candle that was reflecting on my book, and all of a sudden, the hassles and stress just faded away. Suddenly I was overcome with this feeling of joy and gratitude, and I couldn't help but smile. 

Then, I took a picture of it, the beautiful setting in front of me, that is. And I found the words to write today's post.  

Sometimes moments just come to us in the midst of chaos, and it's up to us to notice it. And when I say moments, I mean that split second when you're overcome with this feeling that makes you just stop whatever it was you were doing, whatever it was you were thinking, and just be. I call those moments "snow globe" moments - a time you want to stand still, take a snapshot of and preserve in this beautiful snow globe because in that single second you were changed. 

That moment can be as simple as looking up from all the ruckus in your head to noticing the beautiful sunset sky and realizing how blessed you are that you get to see that sky, smell the sweet burning candle and work from your cozy balcony. Or it could be as eye-opening as that moment when your nephew tells you that he auditioned for a play and as you listen to him gush about it you realize that God's perfect plan included you to have time for those special Mondates with your amazing nephew. Or that moment can be as sweet as the time a smile between you and the boy you had been crushing on said everything and more than words could ever describe. 

I found that being present allows us to notice those moments. And in noticing those moments, we're reminded that there's a lot to be grateful for. 

What are some of your "snow globe" moments? How did they change you?

This moment: it started with prayer, then, I ran

There was a time, hundreds and hundreds of weeks ago, when running one block was unspeakable to me. I was the girl who nearly failed P.E. in junior high because I couldn't (ahem, refused to) run around the track. Running was not my thing at all.

Then, I graduated from law school, started practicing law, and became depressed over a guy. Basically, I turned into a hermit. If I wasn't in front of the computer doing legal research or writing a three-hundred-page brief, I was in front of the computer playing solitaire and agonizing over my lost love. It was a sad time. 

Looking back, it took awhile for me to get out of that rabbit hole of regret and self-pity. It took me a long time to be able to leave work at the office because I felt like always being on the clock was what I needed to do to be a lawyer. I thought it was what I needed to do to keep my heart from completely shattering. But, it didn't work. I was still heartbroken, and on top of it exhausted to the point of burn out. When you're at that stage, everything in life becomes sort of a mess, too. I was making poor decisions in my personal life, and physically, an eighty year old had more energy than I did at thirty-one. After a fractured toe-incident, and then, one bad, unhealthy rebound relationship after another, I had to do something. 

I went to church. 

But honestly, I didn't go to church because I thought I needed God. I went to church because my brother had just become a pastor and I wanted to be supportive. It was the something I had to do. Then, my brother started leading a Young Professionals ministry group. And I joined because again, I wanted to be supportive. The something I could do. 

Later, however, I found myself looking forward to our Thursday night Bible studies and the all-night talk-a-thon with my sister-in-law afterwards. I started going to church not because of my brother, but because I wanted to hear the gospel. 

Then, somewhere during that time, the idea of running was spoken aloud. It may have been a conversation about participating in a 5K run, and I thought, I want to do it. Honestly, a tiny part of me may have decided to sign up because the guy I was depressed over was a runner. Maybe it was a way to feel close to him. Regardless, running clicked in my head and I did it. Horribly, at first. It took me over an hour to finish that 5K run. 

But, running did something to me. As I learned to breathe and pace myself, as I got to know my gait, I became more present with my body and mind. I would run at the tracks of my old high school while listening to worship music and talking to God. Last year I trained for my first half-marathon and I realized during my training that my rescue out of the rabbit hole of misery didn't start with my run, but with prayer. Running was the tool that God provided to help and teach me how to appreciate the moment with each breath that I take. He reminded me that I have a lot to be grateful for and I couldn't waste away feeling sorry for myself or punishing myself for a past that was long gone. 

I've come to learn that God speaks to us in different ways. When we don't listen one way, he finds another to get our attention. God also answers our prayers in ways that we sometimes don't understand or don't even realize. God gave this non-runner, this former-running-hater, the ability and desire to run. And through running, I got to spend time with Him. I learned to be in the moment.