In Search of Inner Peace: Beginnings

"Write hard and clear about what hurts." - Ernest Hemingway

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When I was a kid, I couldn't wait to grow up. I couldn't wait to grow up because I had this vision in my mind, this idea, that when I was older, everything was going to be okay. Everything was going to be right, everything was going to be as it should be. I was going to be okay, I was going to be fixed -- I wasn't going to be sick anymore. 

I'm not sure what put this idea in my head, but I just couldn't imagine a future where I was still sick. Surely, it had to end. But high school came and went, then 18, 19, 20, and.... nothing. Nothing changed.

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I feel betrayed by my body. I feel angry and cheated. This isn't how it's supposed to be, this isn't how it's supposed to work, but that's just it - it doesn't work. Something went haywire in my immune system and instead of functioning properly, it can't tell the difference between healthy and foreign cells, so it goes into overdrive, leading to joints that swell and bones that ache, skin cells that don't know when to stop reproducing, causing bright red patches across my face and limbs, and leaving a body and mind that feel tired beyond their years.

So here I am at 23, feeling betrayed and tired. But also feeling like I'm finally ready to come to terms with my body, my reality, myself. There are a lot of things that I've kept bottled up my entire life, things I've never faced or vocalized or worked through, things that have caused so much inner turmoil and anxiety. But I think I am finally ready to start letting go and to start on this journey of searching for inner peace. I'll try to be as brutally honest, transparent, and vulnerable as I could possibly be -- feel free to come along for the ride.

23 Lessons Learned Over 23 Years

Hearts break in different ways - from love, from hate, from distance, from indifference. It takes some time, and sometimes a little whiskey, but they'll always mend in the end.

There's nothing wrong with not having your life figured out at any given moment; there's nothing wrong with taking it day by day; there's nothing wrong with just living.

It's okay to find and lose and find and lose and find your faith on your own terms.

If where you live makes you miserable, move.

For the most part, people just want to be heard. Be as present as possible when someone is talking to you, especially when it's about something that's been clawing at them, something that they need to get off their chest, something that takes effort to say. Just because you're sitting next to someone doesn't mean you're really there.

It's hard to hate your body when you're in awe of what it can do for you.

If you need to make yourself feel better, do something kind and thoughtful for someone else.

You have the right to cut toxic relationships out of your life, no matter what they may be. You are not obligated to appease anyone at the sake of your own well-being and mental health.

Age is a feeling more than it is a number.

Everyone is fighting their own demons, so do your best to be kind.

Don't compare your life's trajectory to that of your peers - everyone finds success and happiness in different ways, and they come in different forms.

There are many things to be learned from our furry best friends: how to love unconditionally, how to be loyal, how to not hold grudges, how to be carefree, how to always be ready and willing to receive love.

Be generous - with your time, your money, and your love. Being selfish is easy, but it will make you bitter in the end.

Losing sleep is always worth it if it means you can be there for a friend.

Everyone has their vices. Don't feel too guilty about them if they're all that help you get through the day, just be sure to stay safe.

Sometimes, all you can do for someone is be alone with them - words and actions aren't always necessary.

Apologize when you've done or said something wrong, otherwise your stubbornness will just come back to bite you.

When you put positive energy out into the universe, it comes back to you.

You can't help anyone who doesn't want to be helped, but that doesn't mean you should never try.

Spending several days in your room watching Netflix or reading books or playing music or writing stories is perfectly okay. We recuperate in different ways - if you need to be alone, be alone. Don't let anyone guilt you into not taking time for yourself.

Don't underestimate the power of compassion.

Make sure the people you love know that you love them; it's better to be overly affectionate than overly reserved.

There's always more to learn.

The Art of Racing in the Rain

After spending the afternoon in Seattle, drinking coffee and sending emails, meandering through Pike Place Market, I stopped by Half Price Books in Tukwila on the way home. I don’t remember the last time I recreationally read, and especially finished, a novel (though many valiant attempts were made, but the starting proved to be much easier than the finishing), so I browsed the aisles aimlessly, just waiting for something to catch my eye.

En Entendant Godot crossed my path, a French version of the beloved Garfield, both securing a place in my hands, but I kept on. And then, from the corner of my eye, the top of a dog’s head peeked out. The Art of Racing in the Rain. By the title, I would never give it a second glance, but why the dog on the cover? My curiosity piqued, I opened the front flap.

“Enzo knows he is different from other dogs: a philosopher with a nearly human soul (and an obsession with opposable thumbs), he has educated himself by watching television extensively, and by listening very closely to the words of his master, Denny Swift, an up-and-coming race car driver.”

A novel told from the perspective of a dog. I needed nothing else. (Not to mention it was a mere $2.00 – a steal!)

The Art of Racing in the Rain is the most heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, dog-loving book that I have ever read. The tears began on page 4 and the flood gates were released by page 317. The novel begins with Enzo, our narrating canine, knowing that he is about to die – and wanting to. The following chapters are written in retrospect, following the lives of Denny and his family, but through Enzo’s eyes. 

Now, for those of you that are heartless dog-detesters, this novel is not for you. You simply wouldn’t understand. But for any and all dog-lovers, this is a must read. It will make you appreciate your canine companion so much more and will provide you with a warm, soul-cleansing cry.

The Art of Racing in the Rain. Two paws up.

Now excuse me while I mull over pictures of my Ellie and wallow in my melancholy.

Conceal to Reveal

With all the talk going around about "real beauty," not only are extravagant uses of Photoshop critiqued, but often times, any use of makeup is tossed into the mix. People are often telling women, "You don't need make-up to be beautiful; you're perfect the way you are!" and others saying they like the "natural" look. But in the same breath, they often tell their female peers that they look sick or tired when they fail to wear mascara or eyeliner.

Everyone has a preconceived notion of what others are supposed to look like. Critiques of the above are many, but those are for another time, another day. Today, I am making a case for the positive aspect of using makeup and giving into these preconceived notions.

I have been wearing make up for years. And the reason behind it is perfectly summarized with Dermablend's Camo Confessions campaign. You can view the most recent videos here.

I do not put on make-up every day to fake who I am, to "trick" anyone, or put on a false persona. On the contrary, I do it so that people can instead see who I really am -- the sarcastic, witty, emotional, loyal, indecisive person that I am. Because if I didn't, they would instead focus on my physical appearance. The preconceived notion that I am ascribing to is looking normal.

Perfect skin is not something that I have been blessed with. I'm not talking about acne or pimples; I have instead been beautified with a continuous, crimson complexion. And I do not want that to be the first thing that people see and judge me by. I want people to look past my skin and instead judge me by the content of my character, however charming or repellent it may be. And that is why I conceal to reveal. I wear my makeup, and I wear it proudly, because it helps me be who I want to be -- my face is a canvas, one where I can show the rest of the world how I see myself, how I hope that it can see me. And for that, I will not be ashamed.

Debrief

I woke up this morning earlier than I have on a weekday for several weeks now, and had my first official day at my new internship, and it turned out to be the start of an amazing day. I ended up staying an hour later than I was scheduled because I was determined to figure out why the stupid website wasn't doing what I wanted it to do, but it finally worked! It may have been a small goal to reach, in the grand scheme of things, but I walked away feeling so accomplished -- I don't remember the last time I felt that successful. It left me with a pleasant disposition for the rest of the day.

Pi Sigma Alpha held our annual forum this evening and although some rather...eccentric Tea Party characters came out, it was definitely an interesting event. The night finished off with going out for drinks with a few of our members, and it was just an overall great time. I felt so carefree.

There really is no point to this post, but to give a debrief of my day (even if it may not make very much sense). I just wanted to put it into writing, for myself, that I am happy.

Love

"I don't want your love unless you know I am repulsive, and love me even as you know it."

- Georges Bataille, My Mother

Ellie

I don't care what anyone says. Dog is man's (woman's) best friend. I honestly don't know what I would do without her. Who else is there, at 3:00 in the morning, when you're drunk off your ass, and running low on cigarettes? No person can bring that kind of comfort and love.

Summer of Introspection

It seems that the general theme of this generation is feeling lost. Nobody knows what they are doing, or where they are going, or who they are. And there is nothing wrong with that. We're in our 20s and life just isn't as much of a straight shot as it was for our parents and we have endless possibilities, so many paths at our feet, but I guess this is where it becomes difficult. It's such a blessing, to have so many options, but it easily becomes a rut that we fall in to.We don't know what to choose or what to do so we do nothing and just go about our daily lives. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. But personally, I'm getting sick of this rut.

I'm getting tired and fed up with myself for being at a standstill and not moving forward. I don't mean this in a sense that I should be more out in the world and doing some spectacular things, as I'm not even done with school yet, but that doesn't mean that I can't be making progress in other aspects of my life. I have been going through the motions for so long that I'm not quite sure what more there is to me.

My goal this summer is to spend intentional time looking into my mind and seeing what I find. I want to reassess my values, goals, and beliefs. It's been quite some time since I've thought about any of those things and I think it's time to start molding myself. I'm not expecting any tremendous epiphanies, I just hope I can catch a glimpse of who I am and I what I hope for out of life.

And I know that I just always need to remind myself that feeling lost does not necessarily mean being lost.

Forgetting & Loving

Forget the ones that forgot you but never forget the love that you're capable of.

A Midnight Conversation

"Do you ever think about just moving, getting away from that tied down feeling?"
"Yeah, that's actually something that has been on my mind for years, and is always crouching in the corners. Just leaving, starting somewhere new. It's very enticing."
(Jokingly) "We should move away together."
"No, you don't understand. For me, leaving means leaving everything -- and everyone. And just being alone."

There's a pause.

"Sounds lonely."
"Sounds free."

I'm Leaving, I'm Gone

You're stuck in a chauvinistic, racist, homophobic state of mind and you don't even realize it. Or, rather, you do - you just don't care. To you it's all a joke. Rape, domestic violence, discrimination based on race, sexual orientation, and gender - it's all just a joke.

You go give God your time of day, wearing your Sunday best, but your very being is drenched with the stench of your hypocrisy; you disgust me. You physically revolt me. I get to thinking about the spiral that your mind is in, how indifferent you are to the culture you're a part of, the implications of your beliefs and your acceptances, and it churns my stomach and makes me sick.

And then you have the audacity to point your finger at me. You criticize and laugh at me for breaking away, you taunt and tease me for being offended and infuriated by your off hand remarks and "jokes." Fuck, are you kidding me? Thank whatever higher being there is that I am nothing like you. I don't know what caused my path to turn away from yours - they were parallel for so long. But fuck. I can't imagine being like you because then I'd hate myself just as much as I hate you.

Fuck you. You're 20, 21, 25 - where are your heads? Why can't you see how fucking fucked up you are? Goddamn. I don't need this in my life. I don't need you in my life. Any of you. You bring me nothing but anger, despair, and bitterness, infecting me, and only further causing me to be a cynical asshole.

Fuck you, I don't need you in my life. I don't need this.

I'm leaving.

I'm gone.

Brief Interviews With Indecisive People

“Why can’t I just tell him, hey, I’m going through a thing. Sorry if I’m being a crazy butthead right now?”

“You can’t just tell a guy that,” she says.

“Why not? Why am I supposed to just play this game where I act normal when I don’t feel normal? Why can’t I just be honest with him? Why don’t people do that? I feel like we’d all understand each other better if we did that.”

“You can’t just tell a guy you’re crazy.”

“….Fine. I won’t.”

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“It’s so doomed,” I tell him about us (the new “us”) over dinner. “But it’s happening anyway.”

“Well.” He laughs. “You kind of just described life,” he says.

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I cry a little bit to myself while standing on the subway platform waiting for the L to take me from Brooklyn to Manhattan. My phone doesn’t have service so I type in a bunch of text messages to you that I’ll never hit “send” on.

On the phone with you, I also cry. You don’t know I’m crying. I tell you about another time when I cried and you didn’t know, when we’d ended an email correspondence — an innocuous one —and I’d cried myself to sleep for no reason I can figure out.

Even when I’m happy with you, I want to cry.

Brief Interviews With Indecisive People | Thought Catalog

If I Knew Where I Was Going

If I knew where I was going, I’d stop reading maps like they hold some special secret. I’d realize that they guide people toward a destination and not just away from themselves and I’d stop blaming physical boundaries and distance for all of my problems. I’d accept that the reason I always feel stuck is because I’m too afraid to cross the rivers and mountains that I’ve built up between myself and the people around me, between my actions and my ambitions, my muscles and my mind.

If I Knew Where I Was Going | Thought Catalog

Deserving Love

"We accept the love we think we deserve." - Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

So what do we do if we do not believe we deserve it? Do we reject it? Run from it? Hide from it? Push it away? Or do we go along with it, hoping that one day we will wake up feeling worthy and in the mean time, pray to God that the one giving us their love doesn't give up.

Questions, questions, questions, and as always, so few answers.

No Control

The past several weeks have been the most random and absurd weeks of my life, leading me to the conclusion that I have absolutely no control over my life. I can plan, and make lists, and run my little schemes, and think I have everything under my thumb, but in a split second, it can all completely change.

I have no control. And I'm okay with that. These past several weeks have taught me how to breathe easier and be more accepting to my circumstances, whatever they may be. I'm rolling with the punches, taking things as they come, and hoping, praying for the best. Because there's not much else I can do. And so be it.

Feeling Sentimental

I don't often get very sentimental, but my heart is simply filled with love right now. I do love this place, and I do love these people. And I do love that place, and I do love those people. I've realized that no matter where I go, I will always be missing something and someone else. But I'm okay with that. I'm okay with leaving bits and pieces of my heart scattered about, because what good is a whole heart, not shared, kept to itself and alone?

I Am Not Sad

"He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded as as impossible as it actually was, happy. And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest into his stomach. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others - the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. I am not sad. I am not sad. Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by midafternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad."

- Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated

Hope

What a perfect weekend.

I woke up before nine on Saturday morning, went on a bike ride, and lounged outside of Starbucks for several hours reading Everything Is Illuminated. The sun was bright, but the breeze was cool, and the coffee was chilled.  I caught up with the news, had a few epiphanies, and wrote a little bit. Then I relocated to the picnic table in my court and read some more. I read so much, and just kept on reading. (I don't quite know why I'm so enthralled by this book, but I just think it's wonderful. No doubt I'll be posting some excerpts soon.) Then the night didn't end until five in the morning, after several drinks, smokes, and talks.

Today, Sunday, is how I want to spend every day - eating new foods, drinking coffee, relishing nature, reading, being at peace. I had lunch in a French cafe with JC and then we spent several hours at the park in downtown Monrovia. Beautiful doesn't even begin to describe the atmosphere - big, green trees; the bluest sky; everyone lounging on the grass, on the benches, reading and cherishing each other's companies; the only sound being distant chatter, an occasional car, a child running by. In one word: peace.

I haven't touched my homework, but I don't care. I was able to read so much, drink so much coffee, and have so many good conversations, the kind of conversations that induce introspection, challenge what you believe, forcing you to give a defense for what you've accepted, the kind that bring you closer to yourself and to others.

But the weekend has come to a close, and I'm brought back to reality. It's time to hit those books, but my goal for the week is to not get submerged. To keep a clear mind and not get over stressed, to sleep and to study, to follow my own advice.

It was a beautiful weekend and it's times like these that give me hope for the future.

Twenty

God, I'm old. Actually, not really. Actually, not at all.

I'm young and I intend to relish in my youth.

I'm content with what I have accomplished in these twenty years, so let's continue the streak.

So here's to twenty: being young and free and busy and studying and working and traveling and running and laughing and crying and living life. Cheers.

Working for the Weekend

That's all I was thinking while at work yesterday, and then the weekend finally came.
Pi Sigma Alpha initiation; downtown/old town Monrovia with Caitlyn, Gabby, and JC; Korean drinking games; new friends; late-night adventures/shenanigans; actions and apologies; getting called out by my friend on her blog the morning after. Oh, life.

And the weekend's just begun.