007

I’ve been having a lot of trouble waking up in the morning since November. I turned 28 and a lot of questions and lessons I’ve been avoiding answering + learning decided to all knock on my door at once. When people ask me how I do it all - school, teaching, consulting - I tell them I’ve mastered the art of compartmentalizing my life, but in reality, I’m just putting one foot in front of the other until the diploma is in hand. As a Scorpio I’m very passion driven. All or nothing. I need to feel in order to be propelled forward. Many times in the last few years a passion was sparked and from nothing I made something. From despair, I made a dreams reality. But what I’ve been learning is that all this time I’ve been dancing around pursuing my real gifts because I was afraid to fail. And now as I start to embrace them, a lot of the big life questions follow, for when you can create any life you want, what will you do/drop to get there?

When I finally texted Chris and asked him what I should do, and I say finally because I knew what he would say but I was hoping he would say something different. 

Me: “Are my cortisol levels fucked? Is that why I can’t wake up?”

Chris: “What is your reason for waking up in the morning? What is your mission in this life?” Me: “ugh knew you were going to say that - can I take fish oil for that.”

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I wanted to write about this because in this world of social media and seeing people’s lives as is now, we don’t see the back story of the ride it took to get there. Someone’s success we see now could have taken 10 years of hard fucking work that we forget about and compare ourselves to them in this moment, wondering why we’re not there yet. In a lot of conversations with friends lately, the word that keeps coming up is patience...”I wish I was more patient to allow things to unfold...To trust that everything was happening as it was supposed to rather than forcing it.” Sometimes we know the answers to the big questions of life, sometimes we don’t. And that’s human and that’s fine and I think we can all be a little more patient with our dreams. We are bringing them all the way down from the heavens, after all.

006

 have many beautiful photos of the female body saved to my phone. I always felt they were too provocative to share here, until now. Last night I attended a housewarming party for one of my closest friends, who I believe to be the embodiment of the divine feminine. She is elegant, graceful, gorgeous with her porcelain skin, jet black hair, and lips never without a rouge. I’ve always admired her beauty, her femininity, her subtle seductiveness that all shows a woman who is in touch with her body and her sexuality. We spend many mornings sipping coffee at her home, talking about the divine feminine, but not in the fluffy woo woo hippie way. The real divine feminine, that woman comfortable in her skin, in her body, in her sexuality and sensuality, and how so correlated to spirituality is to this.
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A few moments after I arrived, one of the most exotic beauties I have seen in a while entered the room as if Aphrodite walked in herself. She was dressed in head-to-to black with a leather jacket and dark maroon hair which laid half down, half in a top knot like a samurai warrior-ess. The way she smiled, laughed, talked, moved made the entire room light up. We ended up sitting next to each other, which led to an hour long conversation about sexuality, feminine energy, creativity, how being in touch with our sexuality as women is what also opens up our creative energy and brings forward money, prosperity, lovers, and so forth (attending her workshop soon and I’ve never been more excited). It’s all the same chakra and when one of those areas is out of balance, usually the other is (sex, money, relationships = 2nd chakra). I told her how I had so many images saved that I love but felt to be too provocative for my own feed. As I walked home that night I thought of how funny that was. Isn’t this my space of self-expression? Of curiosity, of sharing my interests with the world, even if they’re not palm trees and green juices? Its a topic that has sparked my interest ages ago and one I felt too provocative (western conditioning) to share here, ironically, as it’s the most common subject I speak about with friends. More to come, no pun intended

005

My friend asked me yesterday, “I wonder who is behind the camera for your photos...” and I thought I would share. Sometimes you just feel stuck. Like things aren’t moving. In some areas of my life, it feels like pushing boulders up hill. As a manifestor (human design), I get what I want easily. Literally can pull ideas from the stars and watch them unfold right before my eyes. But what I’ve also watched over the years is my finger hit the self-destruct button when I get what I want. Especially lately as my dreams get bigger and hold more weight (and excitement), I spend a lot of time thinking how to not destruct. Yesterday I was having a moment as I felt the polarity of what I want and what’s not showing up yet. I went outside in a sass mood for some fresh air. I’ve been listening to a lot of Abraham Hicks lately and because I’ve been listening I knew that this day could go either way: I could let that one bad thought into my tired, overworked mind that’s been trying to get in there all morning and it all goes downhill from there or I could reach for the better feeling thought. Now, anyone who has tried to reach for the ... better feeling thought ... when the bad feeling thought is so much more shiny knows this feels like dying a thousand deaths. So as I was standing outside in the SoHo sunshine I said, “send me a better feeling thought N.O.W.” A moment later a handsome doorman / model from Brazil walks out of the store with the biggest smile on his face bucket of chocolate (I kid you not) and says Heeeeeyyy! I laughed at the irony of the moment as he took my pictures to make me smile and me laugh until I nearly peed my pants. Hilarious but a perfect reminder that often we have to command the Universe to deliver something rather than ask politely. **May you all have handsome men bring you buckets of chocolate today** 🖤

004

In 2008 I worked for the most incredible woman I have ever worked for. It’s funny how people’s patterns will resonate with you many years later. Hardworking, dedicated, and the epitome of get shit done, Natalie was one of my first bosses in New York City. She came in everyday dressed impeccably head-to-toe with that just got off the plane from the beach glow and a smile on her face. At the time, she was a casting director and cast models for many different designers during fashion week. We worked hours on end for weeks at a time to the point that I wondered how this woman had life in her. At one point, the stress levels were so high a la fashion week style that another intern left to get a coffee and never came back. I thought of Natalie’s grace today. There was a photo of her (not this one, I couldn’t find it sadly in the google black hole) of Natalie standing by the tents, staring off into the distance with the most serene face there ever was. Everyone commented on the photo how calm and peaceful and beautiful she looked. I remember when Natalie saw the photo we were dying laughing because in that moment she was trying to figure out what the f*ck to do as models were missing that were supposed to walk the runway and Anna Wintour had just arrived to the show, which meant the show starts now. Today was the kind of day where what can go wrong will go wrong and I remembered Natalie as I stood on the side of the street of SoHo 8 years later, 4 blocks away from my destination, and 6 massive boxes of products, after the uber driver refused to drop me off on Broadway. I stood there with zero options in sight. As I leaned against the wall calmly staring into the distance aka avoiding a breakdown on Crosby, all these years later, what would Natalie do right now. I looked down, Unpacked all the boxes, threw everything in my purse, my pockets, I asked the three construction men standing across from me to throw away the boxes to which they replied politely “yes ma’am” and made my way down Broadway to save my own day.

003

Living in New York for 11 years you see a lot of people come in and out of your life. When my last relationship ended two years I felt like I had to make friends again in my late twenties. To be honest, it was the weirdest thing ever. I went on friend dates. I went to parties. I tried to strike up conversation with people at the coffee shop. My mind works differently than most people and it’s hard for me to relate to many (if you don’t know about Lumerians or the Vortex but also Cardi B and Kodak Black we’re probably not going to get along). After a while, I realized a really hard lesson: it wasn’t challenging to make friends...it was my depression and sadness and heartbreak that was causing me to be a bad friend. All I wanted to do was talk about how unhappy I was, how things weren’t working out. I wanted people to care about me but I rarely showed up big for them. One of my New Years resolutions for 2017 was to be a better friend, not to make more friends. I started saying hi to people more. I became more open instead of closed off. In my sixth year at this school, in 2018, I actually know peoples names now. I know which neighborhood they live in. Which kind of music they like. I started asking questions instead of asking advice. And the irony is that I feel more supported now that when I was desperate for that support. In this photo I’m actually in a lot of pain. My posture has gotten terrible from sitting at the computer all day, everyday. My friends could see I was limping and because I had shown up again and again for them, they showed up for me without even asking. One friend rubbed my back with lavender oil and did some energy woo woo that felt real good. Another friend massaged my hand on the subway ride home when we bumped into each other on the platform. But this photo right here is my favorite, albeit unflattering, because my best friend told me to pop a squat, and did so with me in the middle of the hallway, to help not just decompress the pain at its most excruciating moment but to make me laugh and forget that I was even in pain at all.

002

Someone once told me New York is a place people come to chase their dreams. It’s not the place you go because you want to start a family or to settle down. I remember being 17 years old driving to New York City in my rickety Toyota Matrix filled to the brim with clothes, pillows, and excitement. I was going to work my way up to be a writer at Vogue and I already had an internship with one of the most prominent PR agencies in the industry and nothing was going to get in my way. 

I look back and wonder whether I was naive or fearless. Maybe there’s a fine line. Whenever I wanted something, I went after it, and I got it. No questions asked, no insecurity around pursuit. I didn’t understand the concept of rejection in a way that it influenced my desire to go after what I wanted. Yes meant yes and no meant sending one more email that always landed me where I wanted to go. 

A few months ago I found myself on 27th street on a fall night and stopped across from the entrance of the Fashion Institute of Technology. I had forgotten the sheer excitement, eagerness, and anticipation that had been replaced over the last 11 years with ripples of fear, insecurity, and doubt, all the very real human feelings that come after years of trial and error. 

 

I thought of all the times I didn’t think I was going to make it. 

 

The times where something good came my way and then fell apart. 

 

And especially of all the times that I got in my own way of dreams that were just about to come true. 

 

I then realized I was standing in the very same spot my sweet literature professor whom I loved dearly, who had beautiful silver locks and wore big round spectacles, took my hand at 19 years old as I walked away from FIT afraid of what was going to happen next, worried I wasn’t going to make it in the big city. She smiled and told me, “My dear, this too shall pass. Fears are temporary. Your dreams live on forever.” 

I wiped away the tears as I looked down at the tattoo on my arm that read, “This too shall pass”, which I got a few hours after that conversation on 27th street in 2009. 

Living in New York for the last 11 years has taken me down more paths than many navigate in one lifetime. While it’s been inspiring, eye-opening, and fascinating to have done, learned, and experienced everything I have, it’s also been confusing. 

Should I go this way or that way? Should I do this or that? Should I pick one thing or do them all? 

And I’m surrounded by some of the most talented, grab-life-by-the-balls, inspirational, creative, successful humans on the planet. I know I know better but I often found myself, find myself, comparing my life to theirs, wondering if I’ll ever figure it out and utilize all my gifts in the perfect pattern that grants me everything I want and more. 

The older I get and the more I learn the subtleties of life and what brings prosperity, I realize that comparison is the very thing that takes us away from ourselves. We think it’s inspiration, it’s harmless to look at how others live their lives, but it literally sucks the life out of our hearts and the energy out of our lives. 

There are multi billion dollar industries built off the whole idea of “finding ourselves”...to figure out who we are and what we want. The irony, the greatest irony, is that it’s right inside of us, waiting for us to stop trying to be like everyone else and start listening to the tiny pulls of the hearts strings. We follow one pull, and then another, and then another, and then another, and suddenly we feel the moment of passion building up inside of us. 

I think the greatest challenge is not actually finding ourselves but learning how to listen when our Selves try to show us which street takes us right to our dreams. 

001

Last week I had a new patient in the clinic. It was a long day and I was already totally exhausted. I couldn't hear her very well as she kind of mumbled and talked as she moved around the room, attempting to tell me what was going on as she hung her coat up with her back towards me, an impossibility for someone who reads lips. She finally sat down, swung her gorgeous long, dark dreadlocks over her shoulder and flashed the pearliest of white smiles that made my terrible mood melt right off my chest. After we spent a while talking about her injury, I put together a treatment plan as she climbed onto the table. We continued to small talk, something I strongly dislike as a 50% deaf introvert but she was sweet and I felt open to listen as I began putting needles in her body. She mentioned she was from Baltimore and I said, "No way! I am too.."

"Girl! What high school did you go to?" She asked. 

"Roland Park Country School"

"GIIIIIIIIRL ME TOO!"

Turns out we went to the same exact high school, 20 years apart. That one little comment broke open into an entire conversation of life, love, passions, gifts, talents, challenges, and all the things that make us human. She told me how she had been teaching dance for many years and I told her I moved to New York to be a writer when I was 17 years old. She asked me, "So then what are you doing in Acupuncture school?" 

"I've been asking myself the same damn question for 5 years..."

"Listen, girl, if there's anything I've learned after being on this Earth almost 50 years it's this: if you don't use your gifts, life will challenge you. Get to writing."

In six months I'll be graduating with a Master's in Acupuncture and it feels strange to have a chapter end that felt never-ending. It will be the first time I have nothing holding me down to New York: no school, no trainings, no relationships. It will be the first time I have to really buckle down and make a career for myself, without the safety net of "I'm in school still" to fall back on. And it will also be the first time that I have to really decide what I want my life to look like, uninfluenced by mentors, by parents, by teachers, by friends. It's beautiful but also a little terrifying when you know that anything you can dream of can come true and it's time to really begin pulling those dreams down to planet Earth. 

In the center of my heart I am a writer. I've always loved words. Written words. It's easy for me, as if my fingers already know what I want to say. One thought will pop into my head and streams upon streams of words and sentences will begin to unfold from the ethers. It's a gift that I've never consistently used, so when a friend said she was going to do 100 days of writing, I decided to join. It's magical to feel the quiet stirrings of a new chapter unfolding. Anything is possible. And today is day 1.