Falling 2 Fly

Daily Gulps of Life

[falling2fly-blog]

The letter I thought (and hoped) would never come

  Back in April, Sarah inspired me and I chose to write a letter to a prisoner in the States. I wanted to make it up to the man I chose not to help in Portugal, and this felt like a pretty solid way to do so.

Thank you so much for your compassion and mercy in chosing to write me, my heart is touched.

I chose a woman because it felt safer. And I went for one with a life sentence, because it felt like a guarantee. On the site, it said she was doing a sentence for murder. But that wasn’t enough to satisfy my gruesome curiosity. I slowly typed her name into the web and devoured an article about the specifics of her crime.

My mind wondered.

How could someone be so twisted to do what she did? I thought.

And in my heart, I hoped she wouldn’t write.

But.

Obviously. The letter arrived.

Yesterday.

Evan picked it up and told me I had fan mail. His reaction was as much of a surprise as receiving the letter itself.  I put it away quickly because I didn’t want to discuss the details. I wasn’t even sure if I had it in me to open it and read it.

During dinner, we circled back to the letter. I told Evan that I wrote her a few months ago. We spoke about how the States focuses more on punishing the criminal than in assisting the victims and their families to heal. 

Evan read the letter first and I asked him if it was scary or sad and he said both.

I spend a lot of time alone in my room (cell) because it can be so dangerous in our day room. This world I find myself in is a cold, dark, ruthless, vicious and cruel place. It is a living hell….

When I finally got the courage to read it, I imagined her receiving my letter and responding – from being called at the mailroom, to opening the envelope, to reading my words, to choosing what to write and what to share.

In writing mine, I stayed away from anything meaningful and just asked her how she spent her time. I think I also said that I was a Colombian American in London.

I spend my days listening to my music, mostly oldies from the 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s and some of the 90s. I like to read a lot anything any subject. I write poetry, let me know if you would like to read some of my writings?

My judgment overtook me like a bull. Of course, I reread the article that detailed her crime.

Some say hell is endless, I say hell is empty and all the devils are here.

Part of me wants to stay away. I don’t want to ignore her past and I don’t want to try to understand her.

This is why I’ll write back.

May God smile on you today and always.

When we stop judging others, and ourselves, we do what we’re meant to do with our time here on earth. 

We connect. We inspire. We alleviate loneliness. We love. We heal.

[falling2fly-blog]

why I left CrossFit

I ended my CrossFit membership at Thames on June 15th. But, my decision to leave CrossFit was a long time in the making.

In March, I was emotionally restless. Working, going to CrossFit, and having dinner with Evan every night almost convinced me that my life was perfect. Except, it wasn’t. And when I witnessed a man break his head after I was too scared to help him, I said enough. I knew I was using CrossFit as a distraction to not seek the life I wanted. So, it was the variable I needed to sacrifice to act.

April and May came and went and I showed up to CrossFit once or twice a week. I was still too scared to quit. I wondered what my friends would think of me. I wondered what my brother would think of me. I wondered what the coaches would think of me. Not once did I prioritize what I would think of myself if I didn’t quit.

When I showed up, my physical limitations got the best of me. I struggle with a pain in my upper back and I felt it during WODs. Doing shoulder presses, push presses, and push jerks, I couldn’t lock out my right arm as fast as my left one. My body was acting as uneven as it felt. The workouts also drained me for days, and my body resented the physical pain I was putting it through. Never taking time to mobilize was finally impacting me.

My inner voice joined in on my physical body’s rebellion. It told me to quit and to focus on Yoga and flexibility. But my mind or my socially primed self was still too scared. I sought my brother’s input (who said I should stick it out). Only when I confessed to an unbiased listener in my life did I get the courage to quit.  

I think my desire of wanting to be enough and not feeling it in many aspects of my life collided with CrossFit’s fundamental principle. In CrossFit, you can always get one more rep, no matter what. And you’ll always have someone yelling at you to pick up the bar and to just keep moving. And if you don’t have someone to chase in the workouts, you’re not aiming high enough (I never did).

When you struggle to feel enough professionally, as a daughter, and sometimes as a wife, you just want an area in your life where you can just be. And I wanted the movements I chose for my body to be that place. 

Last year, I failed making it to intermediate, and I cried about it. I was also in a funk for a few days. I was confused why failing to meet someone else’s standards affected me so profoundly. Did I really define myself by not being able to do a pull-up? Did I really need people telling me that I had failed? Maybe I knew back then than my priorities weren’t rooted in proving myself at the box.

When CrossFit HQ employed me as the Europe Regional Media Director, it was always more about the writing than the sport itself. But when the athletes or the reports I produced weren’t enough, and they couldn’t communicate their messages with compassion, I knew I didn’t have it in me to complete the tasks for the season. So I quit. And to this day, I wonder why I let myself make it so far in a niche I don’t love.      

When nanos, lululemon, and the weight on my barbell stopped shining for me and when rx’ing a workout stopped making sense, I knew it was time to tackle my more important battles. Reaching a one-rep max feels cool, but to me, it is a shadow accomplishment. Something that if you don’t examine closely, can feel like enough, and make you disregard your life outside the gym. Today, I’m grabbing my life by the horns and rx’ing it in areas that make me palpitate with excitement. 

[falling2fly-blog]

My Uniquity: Accepting Myself

Just wanting some love…

I look different. My head is bigger than other people’s. Even though it’s obvious, my parents never talked to me about this physical difference. With good intentions, they built me up with an outer confidence shell. They told me I was beautiful and smart, but that wasn’t enough to counteract their actions or to assist me in dealing with the mean kids.

When I was twelve, I confided in my younger brother that the kids at school said I had a big head. We were the closest in our family, but he didn’t comfort me. Instead, he began to hurl my reality, or insult, as I saw it, whenever we fought. For me, his betrayal sealed the deal as to where my place was. I believed that if he didn’t accept me, nobody really did. I stopped fully trusting others and behind my façade that everything was normal, grew to hate myself.

One of my clearest memories is my father saying that my brothers both had movie star looks. I remember thinking: What about me? But I just looked at him, wishing that he could right the fact that I felt so wrong.

When I was thirteen, I called my brother short. In return, my mother violently slapped me. My stinging cheek was nothing compared to the anger in her voice as she said: “You know, he can say mean things to you as well.” I wish I would have questioned her and made her say: “You have a big head.” Maybe by acknowledging my reality, my parent’s stress would have eased. Pretending that I looked normal was so taxing on them and on me.

While my mom was never strong enough to defend me, her sister was. When my cousin’s classmate picked on me, my aunt followed the bully into the bus and told him off. It made me feel protected and loved.Another time, my mom, my aunt, and I were at a music store, and three girls were laughing and pointing at me. My aunt made sure I saw her roll her eyes at their pathetic behavior and then gave them a piece of her mind. Meanwhile, my mother looked away, pretending that everything was still, in fact, normal.

Three years later, I played around with a picture of my friends and I, and placed a thumb over my forehead to see how I would look if I were normal. Pretty, I thought to myself, and an exact replica of my mom.

I wonder if my parents struggled in my early years. Did I embarrass them? Did they spend endless nights discussing my predicament? Both are very social beings, so how did they take the glance overs that I received as a baby? I still receive that glance over today, and while I used to hate it, it’s a useful tool for weeding people out.

My childhood shaped my desire to compete against my brothers for validation. I wanted to un-shame my parents and to prove that I was worthy of their love.

At eighteen, I began a decade-long journey to make my parents beam with pride. In college, I studied accounting and graduated summa cum laude. After college, I joined the same public accounting firm my dad had worked at. I ran marathons to prove that I could be loved. Like my dad, I obtained a master’s. When my brother opened a CrossFit gym, my husband and I invested in his box. To this day, I have been the only one that hasn’t been laid off.

None of this worked. My brothers, in their charm and handsome looks, and easy childhoods, were and still are easier to love. I was angry, yet accomplished, vulnerable, yet fiercely independent. But in the process, I learned that I hate chaffing, that I should have written instead of gotten a graduate degree, and that being an auditor sucks.  

The biggest lesson of all was how tiring it was to give a f*ck when no one else does.

In late 2011, my husband and I moved to London. As the days turned to weeks and to months, the physical distance unwound the resentment and I healed slowly. Shedding my past, we tackled my $43,000 student loan and paid it off in February. I finally gave myself permission to embrace fully and without doubts, my husband’s love. And while I haven’t been immune to my family’s dynamics, I’m letting go of normal and embracing my truth.

My parents failed miserably by not acknowledging my reality. But I failed even worse when I adopted their perception of me as my own, and convinced myself that I was worth less. And even though my memories are poignant and raw,I feel that acknowledging them will strip them of their power and get me closer to the person that I want to become.

[falling2fly-blog]

How to embrace changing exercise habits

I always wanted to run a marathon. So in early 2008, I started training for the Boston Marathon. I trained for three months and due to a knee issue, my longest run was sixteen miles. In April 2008, I completed the Boston Marathon. I finished in about 5 hours and 20 minutes, and being a first-timer and non-fast runner, I was proud.

After the Boston Marathon, I signed up for the Hartford Marathon, so I kept running consistently. My knee started to hurt every time I went past 16 miles, so I kept my long distance runs to that length. Upon completing the Hartford Marathon, I improved my marathon time by about an hour.

In early 2009, I completed the New Jersey Half-Marathon and I realized how much more pleasant shorter distances were for my body and for my mind. I think I was done trying to prove to myself that I could run marathons, and I wanted to enjoy exercise more.

For the next year, I used the company gym during lunchtime. Most days, I ran on the treadmill. When I wanted to vary it up, I used the elliptical or the bike.

In June 2010, my exercise habits changed again. It started with a promise that for a month, I would try something different each day. On a Thursday my something different was walking into a boxing class the company’s gym offered.

The class was so much fun. I enjoyed sweating and bonding with my classmates. We responded to how each other punched and that added variety to my workouts. By the end of the month, I was hooked and attending boxing three times a week.

Running was always a solitary pursuit and I was okay with that. I never thought about joining a running club and that might have made me more accountable. However, the fact that I spent so many hours running alone probably contributed to the creation of the mi-bra.

Ultimately, I felt that finding enjoyment from boxing was my mind’s way of telling me that I was ready to start exercising alongside people. Unlike marathon running, I wholeheartedly embraced boxing, as both my mind and body wanted to do it.

Four months later, I also started to listen to my brother talk about CrossFit. It had changed his life, so I wondered: Why not give it a go?

I joined the local NYC CrossFit and was drawn in by the strength component and the Community. As a woman,I had never lifted weights seriously, and holding a barbell, and doing deadlifts and squats was empowering. I learned quickly that CrossFit is also the only sport where the person who comes in last gets cheered on the most. This petrified me and I never wanted to come in last.

Because of CrossFit, I changed my diet to be more protein, vegetable, and meat-based. CrossFit advocates the Paleo diet as a way to optimize performance. I never adopted Paleo fully, but my husband and I replaced all white carbs that accompanied our dinners with healthy fats (like avocado) or healthy doses of vegetables (broccoli).

When I moved to London in late 2011, I joined the local CrossFit and instantly made friends. In a way, CrossFit was like killing two birds with one stone: I got a workout and socialized with my friends. Aside from a bout with asthma and appendicitis, I went to CrossFit consistently four to five times a week in 2012.

But earlier this year, something shifted. I work harder with my right hip than my left hip.  For better or worse, CrossFit has made this unevenness extremely evident. After workouts, my right hip is usually sorer and tighter.

Additionally, I’m not flexible. Improving this weakness has become a priority. In the mornings, I usually spend twenty-minutes stretching and mobilizing my body before I begin my day. It makes a world of difference.

I’m also making space for Yoga and Meditation, as these two practices are more aligned with my body’s current needs.

Today, I attend CrossFit twice a week. Going less makes the workouts hurt more, but I know that choosing to move my body is the only thing that matters. Just this weekend, the hubby and I did some outdoor walking. And the other day, I even went out for a solitary run.

In closing, your interests will change and you will grow to need different types of movement. Instead of beating yourself up for what you are no longer doing, embrace that your body is asking for change. There’s nothing wrong with listening and being open to it.

[falling2fly-blog]

what my heart tells me about our life-to-be

On the eve of our six-year wedding anniversary, Evan and I made a promise to leave the UK with or without jobs by Feb 2015 and move to Colombia.

Knowing that there is an end in sight, I think about what London means for me as a person and as a wife and the first word that comes to mind instantly and overwhelmingly is focus.

I won’t lie. A part of me wonders if the hubby and I could create a long-term home here. I think its the part of me that loves the life we’ve built here. It’s noise-free, financially smart, and full of travel. But it’s also the irrational me, thinking that once we leave London, we’ll never travel again (we will), and we’ll never be as noise-free as we are now. (We might not be, but that is okay).

Sometimes, I try our supposed life out in my mind. How would it feel to send our future kids to school here? I picture mini-Evans and mini-Carolinas going off to school in uniforms and picking up English accents. We would vacation in France, or Cyprus, or Germany. And it sounds so pleasant and full of culture to me! 

Then my heart intercedes and plays out the Colombian version of our life-to-be and it doesn’t feel pleasant or even cultural. But, it just feels right. I picture mini-Evans and mini-Carolinas going off to school in uniforms, picking up Amazing Spanish and loving their American accents. I picture warmth, family, laughs, and strong ties to our homeland. We would vacation in South America, or even North America (I’m itching to visit more of the States). 

I believe my time in London has given me the space and the strength to choose. I have worked on my foundations and feel strong enough. Were I to be thrown into the daily living and craziness that is family (sometimes), I trust myself enough to stand my ground regarding my decisions, choices, and lifestyle. There will be no better way to test that than when we move back home (wherever that maybe be), and pursue a life on our own terms.

[falling2fly-blog]

the story of how an introvert fell in love with meetup

In April, I was restless, I wanted to meet new people, and I needed inspiration. I took the plunge with Meetup. I found a great writing and reading group, and I immediately signed up for their events.

Before going further, I’ll confess that even though I come across as confident, meeting new people and putting myself in situations where I have to interact with strangers puts the fear of god in me. The days of the events, I made multiple excuses not to go, (“I have to get on the tube,” “I’m tired,” “It’s raining,” “work delayed me”) and I didn’t listen because I bartered with my fear. I told my fear that I only had to show up. And we both agreed that the act of showing up was pretty harmless.

Once I was there, speaking to people was pleasant.

Last week, I attended my book club meeting. It was so much easier to go the second time around. I didn’t hesitate walking to the tube and I didn’t veer off path when about to swipe my Oyster card. I was also more comfortable chatting with the people there.

And it was so much fun. Maybe it’s the lack of expectations that we all have on each other or the knowledge that we are just there to chat about the book (and other stuff as well). Whatever it is, the environment is so welcoming and engaging. It’s also a perfect place to practice your spiel and tell other people who you are and what you do.

Recently, I got my writing critiqued and the feedback was positive (yay!) A fellow member also asked me if I was going to stay after for a drink. I declined, but promised that next time, I will stay and socialize.

Last week, I had lunch with a member who is also itching for life change. I’m proud because I’m the one who reached out to her and organized the date. We are going to become accountability partners in the pursuit of our dreams.

My goals of these meetups are to become more comfortable speaking to people I don’t know and to ultimately find my tribe. In the past, I defaulted to finding friends that were in my environment (school, work, crossfit).

I’m changing that. I’m on a quest to find people that inspire me to be the best I can be. 

[falling2fly-blog]

14 life changing thoughts from A Life Without Limits

  My favorite times to read are the in-between pockets of my life. I read on the way to work, while I’m waiting for my computer to decide to work, while I’m cooking breakfast, dinner, or while traversing Europe. Finding this time allows me to read at least two three books a month.

I’m a huge fan of Marthe Hagen. I e-met her last year when I stumbled across her site as I was reading World Domination Summit Recaps and she was brave enough to share her amazing, raw, and authentic story. 

So when she posted a list of her favorite books, I quickly purchased Chrissie’s Memoir, as I hadn’t heard of her, and I was looking for huge inspiration and a motivation booster.

While in Amsterdam with Stephanie and Leslie, I finished Chrissie’s memoir and what can I say? If I didn’t know that I hate swimming and chaffing, I’d consider signing up for an Ironman. And I’d have absolutely zero chances of winning for my age group. I’m gladly leaving that challenge to my e-friend Kelly.

A life without limits is about embracing life’s opportunities and just giving everything your best shot. The satisfaction of doing so? Constant self-improvement.

It’s a lively and personal read and Chrissie is so humble of her talents and tenacity that you root for her until the end. And if you’re emotional like me, you’ll cry through sections as well.

Chrissie takes us through her journey of obtaining two university degrees, her global travel adventure, and her career in international development. While working in the Himalayas and cycling a gazillion miles through Nepal and Tibet, she stumbles upon her capacity and passion for endurance cycling. She decides to take another leap and start training as a Professional Triathlete. In her first year as a professional, she becomes an Ironman World Champion.

Since winning her first race in 2007, Chrissie has won every Ironman distance race she entered, including four Ironman World Championships (2007, 2008, 2009, and 2010).

Picking up this book is a must for all self-improvement fanatics. Trust me, you don’t have to be interested in running an ironman race to get a lot out of this read. 

Let’s move to the good stuff.

My favorite bits and important notes from the book:

1. “Hard work and an open mind – it’s the only way to realize the potential that is inside every one of us.”Sometimes, I think having an open mind is more important than hard work.

2. “Life is nothing but a habit. Get to work.” I’m currently building a habit of avoiding distractions and bartering with my fear. I’m doing this by exercising less (I used exercise as a distraction to not write), and by showing up to everything on my agenda.

3. “Develop a mind bank of positive imagines and thoughts –family, friends, previous successes, favorite places, a big plate of chips. You need to build it up as you would any collection, but soon you will have a range of thoughts to flick through when next your body and soul are screaming out for relief.” I built a facebook page full of beautiful pictures and inspiring quotes. While, I hope to inspire others, this page is mostly for me. I need a bank of positivity, so that on bad days, I can keep going, and only falter momentarily.  

4. “The brain is programmed to protect us, and that can mean imposing limits on what it thinks we can or Should do. Constantly push those limits, because the brain can be way too cautious…It is up to each and every one of us to change “I can’t” into “I can.”’ Proving to the brain that you can do something is the best way to push through. The more you push, the less scarier it becomes.

5. “I am motivated above all by that little voice inside that urges me on to fulfil my potential. Everyone has that same voice in them somewhere, but many are too scared to listen to it, too scared to try, too scared of failure.That fear is immobilizing, but it is also our own personal construct and therefore doesn’t exist in reality. Never imagine anything is impossible, and never stop trying new things.” What are you waiting for? We are all rooting for your success.

6. “The brain is constantly trying to impose limits on what it thinks we can achieve. We should constantly question it, fight it…There is a very  real process of refinement going on. You are just not working your muscles and lungs, you are working your brain to learn to accept each new level of exertion as something that can be endured safely.” This applies to everything, not just sport. If you want to change, you need to train your brain to accept change as the status quo.

7. “Remembering the pain of previous sessions or races we have successfully endured gives us the confidence to go through it again, and the evidence to present to the brain that we are capable of handling it. That way, the next time we hit kilometer thirty of the marathon and want to stop, we know that a) we have been here before and b) our discomfort can be overcome.” Each blog post I write is a stepping stone in the direction that I want to head. I need to become comfortable with sharing my thoughts with the world, as I’m good enough.

8. “Chrissie, I have this little saying that I think helps me be successful, more than anything else I do. And that is, I think, then I pick, and then I stick! And nothing shifts me from my view. No bad races, no bad sessions, no bad mood.” This was Brett Sutton’s advice to Chrissie when she was doubting her swimming ability. Choosing to stick with your goal no matter what is the most important thing.

9. “We should never be in such a rush to achieve our goals that we are not willing to take the small steps needed to reach them.” The more I progress, the more I realize that my journey is about the steps, rather than the end goal.  Planning and relishing those steps is key.

10. “The mind constantly wanders when you are engaged in repetitive activity for a prolonged period. Many’s the time I have been thinking of other things, only to snap out of it and say “Wake up! You’re in a race here!” This is natural, but you have to be aware of it and to learn to stay in the moment.” When I lean into my moments, I’m able to embrace them for what they are, instead of hoping for what they could be.   

11. “I smile and smile as much as I can. And as the pain really kicks in, I dedicate each of the final kilometers to people or causes I care about.” When it gets tough, keep smiling and dig for a deeper purpose so you can push yourself those last few steps.

12. “In five of my previous six ironman races I’d set a new world record, and the odd one out was the World Championships of 2009 when I’d set the new course record. In Kona 2011, I was intent on lowering it further. Things didn’t turn our as planned. In the end, my time was nowhere near as fast as it could have been, but it was the best performance I have ever produced because it was the one that I finished emotionally and physically spent, with absolutely nothing more to give. That is the only measure that counts.” There is no greater satisfaction in life than knowing you gave your family, your marriage, and your work, your all.  

13. “You can never reach perfection. Your ambition should be directed toward your ability to overcome imperfection, and that is how I want to live my life. Trying to effect positive change has always been important to me, and that is not the same thing as chasing perfection.” It’s obvious that when you start something, it’s probably going to suck. The key is to stick with it, so you start sucking less.

14. “At so many stages along the way, the limits that I thought I could see in the distance dissolved as I approached them.They turned out not to be real at all, but mere assumptions. And that has been the most exciting revelation of all.” As I progress in the many different aspects of my life, I enjoy rewiring my brain and proving it wrong.

I loved this book. The last few weeks I’ve dedicated myself to showing up and to bartering with my fear. It’s been an amazing experience, and I look forward to proving myself wrong for the rest of my life.

What are you waiting for?

Open your mind, give it your all, and smile.

[falling2fly-blog]

"If you find your here and now intolerable and it makes you unhappy, you have three options: remove yourself from the situation, change it, or accept it totally."

Eckart Tolle

[falling2fly-blog]

Fitting In to Fitting Out

I don’t know about you, but as a child, teenager, and young adult, I spent years trying to fit in. For decades, my life revolved around what others at home, at school, and at work thought of me.

If I wasn’t worried about my brothers tormenting me to death, I was focused on fitting in with girls at school. (Boys were out of the question, as I wouldn’t be “pretty enough” until college). Looking back, I don’t know how I wasted so much mental energy. How cool would it have been if my younger self had said “f*ck it, I hate you all. Peace out.”

College was kind of a reprieve. By then, I had met Evan, and I was so tired of trying to fit in that I threw myself into my studies. I didn’t have the energy to join the Latin American crowd, which would have involved competing on purses, brands, and cars. I think I had one nice purse (which I subsequently sold on eBay) and a 94 Acura, so I did the math, and saved myself the struggle. The American crowd was more accepting, but they were extremely competitive of grades, internships acquired, and sports. So I hedged my bets and focused on getting great grades.

When I graduated college, I joined PricewaterhouseCoopers, and the struggle to fit in began all over again. The stakes were higher, because I was now in the adult world. I was blessed cursed with having the worst client in the world, AIG Financial Products, and I was thrown into mind numbing work that wasn’t confined to the 9-5 schedule.

For months, I worked until 11 because my senior associate told me that I couldn’t leave before the Partner did (even if I was doing nothing).

In college, I thought that making partner at PricewaterhouseCoopers (a firm where my dad used to work) was my life calling. I didn’t take the time or make the effort to figure out what I truly liked.

So at the firm of my supposed dreams, I realized I didn’t want to subject myself to misery. Much to the dismay of my Dad AND Evan, I quit a year into my role, after sending a pretty ballsy email to the Partners and Human Resources of PricewaterhouseCoopers.

But I still lacked the discipline to find my passion (or the confidence). So I went back into the Corporate World, and in January 2007, I joined another accounting firm, hoping that my experience at PricewaterhouseCoopers was a fluke.

It wasn’t. I joined the Banking Auditing Team, and my two seniors liked to work from noon until midnight. One of them foamed at the mouth. The other was so big, the ground shook when he walked. He also lived with his mom and kept a drawer full of diet sodas. I had enough of a fight in me that I refused to work until midnight, but I was losing faith in the corporate culture. I started to believe that I wasn’t meant to find a “regular” job. Ever.

Doubtful, I interviewed for a role at Credit Suisse Private Equity Accounting, where I met people who worked hard within the normal working day. And in December 2007, I took their job offer.

Unfortunately, I didn’t use the spare time I gained to start blogging seriously. (That would only happen in April 2013).

Instead, I went for the next stepping-stone of what you are supposed to do as an Adult. I enrolled at the New Schoo and completed an MFA in Creative Writing. In 2010, I graduated with a degree I didn’t need and best of all, I was $40,000 in debt.

[falling2fly-blog]

catching moments

We were wandering down a random street in Kiev and came across a violin player. My mom was instantly smitten and asked him to play Vivaldi for her. Evan was more quietly intrigued but bought one of his CDs.

My mom sat on the curb ready to listen and I sat behind her.

I asked Evan to take a picture because I felt a moment coming.

As I stared at my mom listening, I noticed the intricacies of her beautiful neck. The intermittent mole. Her hair tied back in a scrunchie. She moved slightly in appreciation to Vivaldi. 

My mind stepped back to take it all in. My mom. The violin player. Evan capturing the moment for my heart, across the street. The music, rising and falling. The other bystanders that stopped to listen. The baby boy who seemed so utterly engaged with the violin player that he looked like he was about to perform brain surgery. The mother who saw me staring at her baby. The beautiful day. The sap that we sat on without caring (except for Evan, who cared). 

And I was so close to crying for the sheer joy that I experienced. Every cell felt grateful. For choosing travel. For seeing that beautiful baby boy. For inviting my mom to join Evan and I in Ukraine. For being able to stare at her beautiful back. For being next to her as she enjoyed a simple moment. For Evan, who captured the moment for me. For the violin player who gave us a reason to stop, and to listen to his beautiful music. For his agreeable nature. For the sun, as we wondered lazily around Kiev, before heading back to London.

[falling2fly-blog]

"What is needed, rather than running away or controlling or suppressing or any other resistance, is understanding fear; that means, watch it, learn about it, come directly into contact with it. We are to learn about fear, not how to escape from it."

Jiddu Krishnamurti

[falling2fly-blog]

"The question isn't whether you are capable of godlike work. (You are). The question is: Are you willing?"

Seth Godin

[falling2fly-blog]

today, i hope you

  Today, I hope you smiled at your spouse, your kids, and strangers on the street. Smiles catalyzing smiles is a beautiful thing.

Today, I hope you leaned into your yoga class, your work, your boss, and your homework. Enjoyment comes when you are fully present in the moment.

Today, I hope you realized that sometimes happiness is about helping someone else find joy. When you make others a priority, you reap the benefits.

Today, I hope you got rid of clutter. Having less stuff always results in more lightness and more truth.

Today, I hope you chose enough. Honor your days by not wanting more.

Today, I hope you were you. Listening to your authentic self and nurturing your soul brings grounded joy.

Today, I hope you didn’t disappoint yourself. You can’t lie your way into your heart. So align your actions, your values,and your talk.

Today, I hope you started. Whatever journey you’re on, starting today makes a difference.

Today, I hope you made an impact by rising above the trials and tribulations of daily life. Choosing to forge on despite setbacks is the difference between a wasted day and a well-lived day.

Today, I hope you sleep well. So that tomorrow, you have enough energy, compassion, and love to focus on doing what you couldn't do today. 

[falling2fly-blog]

"Realize deeply that the present moment is all you ever have. Make the Now the primary focus of your life."

Eckhart Tolle

[falling2fly-blog]

my wishes for you

  I wish for you to seek your different. Whatever that may be. Different makes you grow and become a better human being.

I wish for you to understand that it’s okay to be wrong. It means you’re still learning, you’re still alive, and you’re still breathing. That’s miraculous.

I wish for you to believe that perfection doesn’t exist. And that striving for it is futile. Stop fighting that frizzy hair, those beautiful legs, or that balding head. Your imperfections make you perfect. I promise.

I wish for you to grasp that we don’t have forever to save money, to create babies, to right our wrongs, or to choose happiness. We do have now, and that is enough.

I wish for you to acknowledge that someday might never come. Eliminate the “some”, add “to,” and keep “day”. Today. Life can change in a flash and the world, as you know it, could cease to exist.

I wish for you to know that what others say has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with them. Your communication says who you are, and where you are on your journey.

I wish for you to listen to your parents, as they just want to be heard. Even if you don’t agree with them 100% (or 50%), make time to listen.

I wish for you to eliminate gossip, judgments, and negative thoughts from your life. Doing this will bring you happiness.

I wish for you to stop seeking validation from others. Follow your heart and you will be free.

I wish for you to have less, so you can become more.

I wish for you to know enough. Consumerism doesn’t have to clutter your vision, your finances, your dreams, or your heart.

I wish for you to grant yourself permission to start living. Your parents, your spouse, your friends, or family will never give it to you.

I wish for you to start now, not tomorrow, and definitely not someday.  Everyday, you have one less day to live. Now is the time to embrace the real you.

I wish for you to see that the universe loves you immensely. Clear your vision and you will see truth and unconditional love. 

[everythingfab]

Words to live by…

[falling2fly-blog]

fear

seeing the sun called for pancake making

  On Saturday, I wake up to a glorious sunny day in London. This is a rare and yearly occurrence, so after making Paleo Pancakes with pecan butter, I create the perfect reason to go outside. A Monmouth Latte.  

The weekend before, I dragged Evan on my search for bulletproof coffee. This landed us at Monmouth in Borough Market. While buying some Colombian and Indonesian beans, we tasted their lattes and found heaven in milk and coffee beans. 

I left our apartment and quenching sunlight, walked to the Underground, instead of taking the DLR to Heron Quays, like I usually do. 

On the tube ride over to London Bridge, I read Ada’s Rules because I need to finish it in time for Tuesday’s Book Club. 

Borough market is buzzing with other Londoners, who like me, are thirsting for sunlight. It takes me a few minutes to get through the crowds and when I do, I get in the 20 plus line formed outside of Monmouth Coffee. 

I happily loose myself in Ada’s quest to shed weight. Coffee drinkers come and go. A sweet barista interrupts me to ask if I want to taste Brazilian coffee. I say yes and enjoy a mini cup of joe, while struggling to hold my book and my cup.

It isn’t long before an Asian Barista takes my order while I’m still eight or nine people away from the cash register. He jots my order on a paper cup and moves on to the couple behind me. 

There are one-pound truffles by the trill and I contemplate indulging in one. They are round, soft, and flakey. 

I chose not to because I remember that I’m heading to waitrose to buy ingredients for tonight’s dinner (paleo pizza) and for wednesday’s dinner (avocado pasta). 

Still treasuring my time with the Sun, I take my latte (read: heaven) out of Monmouth Coffee and turn unto the corner street. It’s decorated with people enjoying gelato outside an ice cream shop. I notice a woman in a yellow coat, alone, reading and eating, and that soothes me. Everyone seems to be with someone, eating and talking.

I choose a sunlit spot on the sidewalk right in front of a door where Leslie, Stephanie, and I took a picture in January. We were introducing Leslie to Borough Market’s other hidden treasure: the five pound duck sandwich. 

  i sat right in front of this door…

I place my latte next to me and open my book, reading about Ada’s mom, and how she refuses to acknowledge her, since her sisters died. I make a random goal to read to page one hundred, as that gives me plenty of time to drink and complete my only objective for the day: chase the sun until it disappears. 

Getting to page one hundred and finishing my latte, I make my way back to Jubilee station. When I get to Canary Wharf, I call Evan and tell him I’m on my way to waitrose.

We hang up and as I pass the park next to Jubilee, I deviate from my route and find a sunlit spot. I lie on the grass and let the sun warm my face. My skin responds to the heat, and I feel the vitamin D enliven me, traveling down my neck, to my arms, eventually reaching my legs. I’m tired of reading about Ada, so I indulge in Marthe’s playlist.

Life is good. I’m in the present moment, enjoying a simple pleasure: the sun while being outside. 

All of a sudden, it stops being good. 

For a reason I don’t understand. My brain turns on and starts churning thoughts at a hundred miles an hour. What are you doing? Why are you here? You better get moving before you get caught! You have a life to live, so move on, and live it. You need to continue pretending. You just can’t sit here and enjoy the sun…What is wrong with you?

I let the fear run through my brain cells, and blood, as the sun shines on me. I don’t respond to fear’s questions. Maybe, next time, I will. I let it overwhelm me, like it likes to do. It slams my brain, like a truck, over and over again, until I can’t hear the song that’s playing on spotify. 

Responding to my fear, the Sun moves to my right, and is now blocked by a building. It doesn’t reach me or my spot anymore. I take this as a sign that it’s time to move on to waitrose, and so I do.