Life Never Fails to Give You What You Need

Election Night 2008. I remember the night clearly. Rushing from the office around 7:30PM, meeting at a friend’s house where 10-15 people were gathered. Watching the election returns and feeling the excitement that rippled through Soho, extended in to the East and West Villages and straight up to Times Square. It wasn’t long before we had an answer. It started as a whisper, “guys, I think he did it…” Then it was a celebration. Champagne was popped, toasts were made, and cheers were heard in the city streets. Our team had won. Barack Obama was the winner, and the new president of the United States. He had defeated John McCain. We were in a blue state and the blue guy had won.

Tears were shed in the room as our whispers were confirmed, and we headed into the streets of Manhattan to celebrate with 6 million of our ‘neighbors’. What a night to be a democrat. What a night to be a New Yorker. What a night to be where you fit in.

Its been 4 years since that night. Tonight, I worked late as I did in 2008. I left the office after 8:30PM, being the only one in my office of 3 who was anticipating every tick on the electoral vote to file in and be shaded in on Chuck Todd’s electoral map in ‘Democracy Plaza’. I rushed home and into my pjs and in front of my TV to see what Brian Williams had to say. I dusted off a bottle of wine from the wine rack, and poured a glass just as I had in 2008, to sip while the anticipation built.  

But unlike 2008, this election night would be spent alone. Sure, the thought of organizing a ‘return party’ had crossed my mind. But here in the South, cobbling together enough ‘Blue Blooders’ to be called a gathering is tough; and not that it’s about party lines or politics, finding a group of people who are passionate enough to celebrate the democratic values of our country is equally challenging. So I enjoyed the night alone, and celebrated just as much internally as I did in 2008, to see the candidate I voted for win four more years in the White House.

Reminiscing is good. Comparison can be healthy.

As I pause and reflect on where life was four years ago, and where it has led me and where it seems to be going, I realize learning to be alone has always been one of those ‘needs’ I had to learn. It was a necessity, and life did not disappoint to show me how to live independently, to be strong on my own, to be no one else but me.

Sure, I would prefer spending election night with my fellow comrades and not have it be a solo affair. But should it happen in 2016, 2020, or 2024, I will be fine. Or even in 2028J Being home has allowed me to be me, whether alone or in the masses, or perhaps alone in the masses of this red blooded state.

Whether we learn to hold tight to who we are due to politics, or relationships or friends or jobs or whatever the reason…Its one of the greatest values we can ever gain in life.

Yes, life never fails to disappoint. It always prepares us for what is coming next -- whatever that might be.

There is Always A Train at the Station

This morning, while rushing to the subway to catch an uptown train to Columbia, several thoughts were darting in my mind as I made my way into the station. Mostly my thoughts centered on today's lesson plan - target audience, market segmentation, overall marketing objectives, etc. (you gotta keep these high schoolers busy!)...As I got to the station I noticed my preferred "A train" was just leaving the station. Crap. Guess I will be waiting awhile.
But, wait... Here comes the E train! And as the idea of taking an alternate train circled my mind, I knew that route would take longer, and drop me off just before my desired location, making me change trains once more before getting on the train that would take me where I needed and wanted to go. So I waited it out, and just as I got to the 'sweet spot' on the platform that would allow me to exit the train in the exact spot I needed to in order to make a smooth transistion, the roar of a train behind me fills my head signalling the arrival of another 'A train'. Ten seconds later, I am seated with my AM New York newspaper and heading uptown just as I anticipated.

Getting to work on a Friday morning is much like marketing... and maybe much more like life.  Everything you do should depend on what your overall goal is. Is your goal simply to get on the train? Well, then any train will do. Is it to get uptown as fast as possible? Then an express train is best. But if your goal is to get to your chosen location? That involves a plan and a strategy, looking for opportunities and taking the ones that work best for you, for your situation... as not just ANY train will take you there. 

Because getting on a train to nowhere you want to go only ensures you will not want to be there once you arrive. That goes for marketing, as it does relationships, as it does life.

Knowing what you want is half the battle. Having the patience to allow it to arrive is the real test. Because there will always be a train entering the station. Just as there will be guys to date, and trips to plan, and jobs to apply for. But not all - and maybe not any in the pool - will take you where you want to go.

Maybe before any of us enter the station of our choice (be it the job market, the car pool, the dating pool, or maybe just the streets of New York) we take a few moments to strategize, to finalize our plan, to know what it is we want... So that when we see it, we know. Because there will always be a train entering the station; and more likely than not, its not the one we need at that exact moment. But if we wait just a minute or two, the right one eventually shows up, and then we can be on our way to our chosen destination just as we invisioned.

There are Those Still in Need of a Sippy Cup

Last night, while watching my favorite late night comedian, a headline on the Daily Show caught my eye: Mayor Bloomberg Limits Soft Drinks to just 16 ounces. The routine around this headline was amusing and made me chuckle at the idiocracy of needing/wanting to drink more than 16 ounces of anything other than water. Then again on the Today Show, Michael Bloomberg joined Matt Lauer for a conversation on the subject and it made me ponder the issue even more.

When we reach the age of 18, we are considered an adult. We can vote. We have our freedom from our parents. We can make choices for ourselves. We can go and do as we please. But do we know how to do that? Can we make the best choices for ourselves?

As I have shared my support for the Mayor's debate with others, I have heard the same argument over and over: The government is trying to limit our freedom! They are taking away our choices! They are telling us what we can and can't do!

Yet, as a follow up to each of their arguments, they never fail to add: But I don't drink soft drinks, except diet soda. Or I only buy 12 ounce bottles.

Translation: The mayor's bill doesn't effect you! You are an adult who can make adult choices for yourself. Good for you.

Shortly after the most verbose debate of the morning began, my nephew wandered in my office and went straight to his toy shelf. (Its his obligatory task to move the giant fire truck to the floor and then find something else to occupy his time). He then pulled up a chair and began drawing on the white board, with his mom telling him he had 10 minutes and then they had to go. As his time ran out, he pushed for more, only to be told he had other places to be. He had to have an adult assist him in his choices, because left up to him he would have spent the afternoon drawing in my office, and maybe finally played with the firetruck. He is only four. He needs guidance.

Yet, how many times in our daily interactions with society do we witness those with no will power or limits and they need guidance in their choices as well? They may order a supersized soda (32 ounces, 400 calories) with the thought they will only consume half. But more often than not, they drink it all and go back for refills all because they can, and they are usually free. Do this a few times a week, and at the end of the month you have added enough calories to pack on a few pounds. Added pounds and too much sugar is what the Mayor is trying to limit, not choices or options.

If we are not wise enough to choose wisely on a day-to-day basis for ourselves as adults, then why shouldn't the goverment step in as an advisory committee to help us make wiser choices? In New York City, it is law that all restaurants with more than 83 locations (which usually means fast food, and chain restaurants that make their money from serving poor quality food choices at lower prices) MUST show the calorie count on all their menus. Its a choice if you still order it, but the city wants you to know how many calories you are ingesting if you do.

Under Bloomberg's legislation, if you really want 32 ounces of soda, you can still have it. The only difference is having to deal with the cumbersome load of carrying around two 16 ounce cups.

Bloomberg's goal: awareness. Not limits.

While we may be adults, and not want someone telling us what to do like when we were 4 years old, there are those that still need some guidance. If helpful guidance allows you to live better and feel better comes from the government is that such a terrible thing? While we are no longer toddlers and in need of hand holding in many ways, there are those members of our society that could still use a sippy cup when it comes to portion control. All Bloomberg is saying is if you want more, you can lug around two sippy cups; he doesn't want it to be easy to consume more than our adult bodies really need.

So, is it goverment trying to limit us as a society? Or is it just those that are limited in their thinking that think that is the case?

The Missing Sock

Today was a bit of a rarity. At least for me. After spending three hours at Starbucks this morning, both working, catching up with friends and shattering my iphone (the latter being a whole other chapter to itself), I returned home to do what I never do. (And I can say 'never' as I truly never do it, and until date have never done it.) I cleaned my oven. With oven cleaner. And a full roll of paper towels! I felt like a million bucks afterwards, as in addition to a clean oven, I have fresh laundry, a clean bathroom and mopped floors. All things I would NEVER opt for on a Saturday. But I am proud of myself, as these are the small joys in life that often elude me, as living solo how often do you need to clean deep enough that guests would notice a freshly clean bathroom... or a shiny oven, for that matter? (Although during dinner tonight, I learned there is a fancy 'self cleaning' oven feature I had no clue about!... This post could take on a whole meaning had the time between 'spray 6-10 inches from surface' and 'let soak' and 'wipe clean after 20-30 mintues)

During these oven cleaning breaks, I steadied myself in my laundry 'room' trying to piece together pieces that had ended up in the 'miscellaneous sock bucket'.. and there were a lot. Fifty plus socks or so to be exact. All without a mate. All in search of one. ALL knowing that at one point they came paired, and for some reason -- laundry error, user error or a true case of finders keepers -- they are not anymore.

As I dealt with missing foot coverings for a solid 30 minutes, I remembered all the missing sock stories from my life. My college roommate discovering that it wasn't ONLY her mother's laundry skills that resulted in missing mates (apparently this was hereditary). An ex who would scour and contemplate for days until he unearthed items pertaining to the feet. Hundreds of DIY laundry spots whose namesake was dedicated to missing items pertaining to the feet. Or the Chinese laundry joints I would use when living in the NE that often returned others 'missing feet' in my laundry pile, and I don't even want to think which parts of my own laundry ended up in another's pile. And yet today, I was dealing with a full basket of missing feet. A whole basket of one minus the half. One sock short of a pair. One foot covering short of being able to go out for a run, a sexy outfit, or cozy feet on a frigid morning.

As per my norm, the mindless act of sock mating turned to relationships, and I as I matched and mated, I wondered how many people I know have been tossed in the missing sock pile, and was it possible that I was one of them? How many people are one sock short of having their best day/date ever? Their most enchanting meeting yet? How many people are simply waiting on their other/better half to get on with it all? To get out of the bin and into the game? Is that all it really takes, is the other half to get those with a missing half out of the bin and into the life of the living?

(Needless to say, laundry is rarely ever just 'laundry' with me. Nor anything else for that matter!)

When I finished pairing what could be paired, I still have 6-9 pieces left over. They all stayed in the basket just above the washing machine. I placed them there after much speculation... As after studying so many black trouser socks, with various patterns and nuances, it dawned on me at the end of my 'foot' journey, that some I had previously mated might have been better suited for some that were now in the official 'lost and found'... and I had to wonder if that is the way it is with life and our mating patterns.

Is there a perfect match for everyone? Do we come onto Earth knowing who we are to be with and we figure out to find them in our journey? Do we figure out who is best for us along the way? Or is it all happenstance? Are we all just players in a game of 'the missing sock' where sometimes we are mated and sometimes we are left on our own? Is there a science to it all? Or is life and mating the ultimate game of laundry where some are better at it than others, and the others just remain 'missing socks' until their mate magically appears?

Laundry, like life, seldom makes total sense. Whether simple or complex "the missing sock" is a mystery we all seek to solve, from college days to life after 101's. Who knows when the mystery truly ends... maybe its a first date, an anniversary date, or a wedding date... Or maybe for some of us its a feeling we seek, the feeling of completeness regardless of title...because ANYTHING is better than 'that missing sock!'

Alot can happen in 21 days.

How funny life is. I say stop. It says go. I say solo. It says duo.

And so I allowed myself to meet someone intriguing. Someone who like me, is capable of talking about 5000 different things in 5 minutes. And given the huge role travel plays in each of our lives, in the past few days, we have had many 'going anywhere and everywhere conversations', which is simply thrilling to me as my current location on the globe doesn't lend itself to many conversations of this sort.

Last night, as I bid this very nice gentleman adieu until late March, or maybe April, or maybe who knows (he's gets paid to be a wanderluster full-time), it dawned on my that alot can and will probably change in the next three weeks that he is 'working'.

And here is why...

If life were a train station, I am at that station. Granted, I am not waiting on the platform. Nor am I sitting on a train. But I am a little bit beyond being in a cab and pulling up to station. More or less, I am waiting in line at the ticket counter, simply waiting for my ticket to get printed. Will that happen next week? Two weeks from now? Maybe early next month? I have no clue. But I do know it will happen.

And just like that great big board at all major transportation junctures with destinations and ETAs and ETDS, ETC, listed, the ticket being printed for me will match one of the destinations listed and I will be off to explore new avenues. And that may or may not happen before this very intriguing individual gets back.

When you know so much is flux, 21 days seems like a very long time. Worlds can change over night. And tomorrow can look very much different than today. As every hour, new decisions are made, plans revised, meetings planned, tickets printed... And it makes me wonder and really ask the question with a true question mark: Where will I be in 21 days?

Its scary and thrilling at the same time. Who knows when I am heading out? Who knows when Mr. Wanderlust will get back? Who knows if there will be time for another 'going everywhere type of conversation'? Yet, at the same time, I know that the true Wanderlusters kind of pod together in life, and time and distance and locations seldom matter. The differences only make it more intriguing to see what Life will allow to happen.

For many times, when we feel like we missed the boat or the train has left the station or the plane has taken off, we realize we arrive at the moment WE are truly meant to depart and our mode of transportation for whatever adventure we are on is waiting at the gate for us, and it has a seat with our name on it... and that's when its our time to go. Whether thats in 21 days or not, at that moment, we know.

You Can't Rush Now

Its Monday night, so in typical Monday night fashion I left my apartment around 5:30PM and drove to Woodstock, GA for my Monday night yoga class. Its a Bikram class - or "hot yoga" - and I love that this is my Monday night ritual. "Hot" means you sweat (a ton!) so its my detox from the weekend (although since I havent been drinking I might need a new word), and I always leave class feeling more cleansed than when I came in.

The studio is in a new part of town in Woodstock. Its hip and fun, and very city-centric. The yoga space itself is very white, earthy and zen. Being in this space makes me happy, so NO MATTER WHAT has happened on Monday, being in this space is sure to put a smile on my face. I am going to leave happier than when I entered. Which is not a bad way to spend Monday evening, is it?

The practice of "hot yoga" always puts in my thoughts in orbit. I am not one of those people who has learned to meditate (although perhaps I should), so for me trying to hold a pose for 90 seconds is about as meditative as I get. I often find that in focusing on the movements of my body, my mind is freed up to go elsewhere -- and it usually does. As sweat pours from my body, my thoughts are on their own mission. Tonight was no different.

Jeff, tonight's instructor, always focuses on being present, or being in the "now". Focus on what is happening 'now' he always tells us. In each class Jeff teaches there are 26-postures. And after having done about 100 classes, I know each one of them by heart, and where my body more or less maxes out in each. Somedays I surprise myself by going a bit further, somedays I do less than I hope. There is still one pose that after 2+ years of Bikram, I still can't do. But I get closer to doing it all the time, and it makes me feel so good as I inch closer to completion, and I know one day I will get there. (tonight was a really good night for that one!) But as Jeff say, 'right now' this is where you are, so this is where you should be.

As my thoughts continued to wander -- right off the yoga mat and into the world where I interact with more than just 26-postures -- it dawned on me that yoga emulates life. Learning to be okay with the fact that I have one posture that still gives me issue, is the same as learning to be okay with the fact that in life there are some places I am not ready to be. Now. So as Jeff says, I shouldn't be there. I am not ready yet.

Wanting to be there (now) won't make it happen any faster. As most likely, in trying to rush the process I will end up missing a few things that I will have to go back and learn (which means I haven't really allowed the process to happen), or I will injure something that will need to heal and that will be a further set-back.

I am where I am. I must learn to be okay with that.

In having this thought, I ventured backwards in my life (yes, I realize that is the antithesis of 'now') to a point I was trying to rush things... or actually, to change previous decisions because I was disgruntled with where I am now. "Had I decided differently, I would be in a totally different place!" I would blast myself. Which may be true, but at the time I made my decision on what 'I know now'. And the only thing wrong with that, is allowing myself to feel guilty for what I didn't know... which doesn't make any sense! How can I hold myself hostage for something I didn't know at the time? That's not fair.

As humans, we simply are where we are. Some a bit ahead in some categories, some a bit behind in others. But its not a race, as we are not competing with anyone other than ourselves. Its just us, being here. Now. Maybe a bit ahead of yesterday, maybe a bit behind, but we are still here.

As a result, the goal is to focus on our own practice, where we are, and celebrate the victories that come with being in that space. There are people that will come along and want us to speed up, but maybe we are not there yet. (if they are to be someone significant, they will wait, if not, then they are not what we need). There are people that will want us to hold us down (and the vice versa from above can be said). There will be people on our same level that won't share our own personal 'now', and that is okay too.

What we need, always comes. If allow it. If we believe in it. If we forgive ourselves for not being where we might have preferred to be. If we love ourselves to know that 'here' is good for now. We will always get to where we want to go if we allow ourselves to get there.

That comes from a bunch of 'nows' that were allowed. That comes from constantly being 'here', wherever that might be. Allowing our own process to pursue. As it does, now.

If we are all on this Earth to lead our best life, then we have to start by being present. For life is happening 'now', today, right this minute. Its up to each of us to be everything we can right 'now', regardless where those are around us, regardless of where other's want us to be. If we focus on 'now', focus on where we are, then just like Monday night yoga as we move from one pose to the next, at some point we change, and without much anticipation, frustration, or worry, suddenly we are right where we want want to be. In the 'now' that fits us best.

Feasting during the Famine

Everyone knows life comes down to two phases. The old adage proves true time and time again. You are either living it up with everything you could want, or you are waiting for your time to come. Feast or famine. All or nothing. Yes or no.

The first two weeks of January I have been in the latter scenario. Squirreling away pennies. Limited social engagements. More exercise (which only fuels the famine). Being indoors. Etc. Etc. Its been a very low key year so far.

But in choosing a more low key start to 2012, I am already seeing the rewards. Any Christmas expenditures and bill hangover from 2011 is gone (and I didn't expect that to happen until mid-February!). I am ready for my race in Miami, and might possibly squeak out a decent time. I've written in some form everyday. And I am working on additional goals I have set for this year.

There is progress! There is reason to celebrate. Even in the middle of a famine. And that feels good.

There is a quote I kept seeing during my time in northern Florida at the end of last year, and it read "What you see depends on what you are looking for."

And in this scenario it does feel that way. By most social standards it might look like a famine. But to me, its starting to feel like a feast. For there is very little that compares to setting a goal and making it happen...and that is just where I am at!

Edits

Whenever I write something down --connect pen to paper, fingers to a keyboard, or my mind to the imaginary computer screen in my head -- my goal is single-fold, and that is to share my story. In doing so, it is never meant to hurt anyone's feelings or come across as attacking. What I share, is simply what I wonder about. And I often continue wondering about whatever topic is top-of-mind long after I have put my 2 cents out there on my blog.

What I am trying to say, is I am an inquisitive person, not malicious. I question alot of things, and need a format in order to do so. This is that.

So what is written and/or read here is simply my ponderings on the world, as I discover my place in it. Its to share the story of my travels through the world, and what is discovered or proves curious on that journey. No more, no less.

Leftovers

As January began, and I became more and more aware of my spending and where I could cut corners, I started to notice there are lots of 'extras' just hanging out at my house. Lots of little shampoo bottles and lotion samples from trips I have taken. Lots of wine and beer from events I have hosted. Lots of books that have not even been open. And lots of things to DO that I never had time for in 2011 (ie, jigsaw puzzles, movies, pictures to post, bins to clean out, yadda yadda yadda)... And I won't even get started on the miscellaneous food items that have been purchased and are now just collecting dust in the cupboard.

It sounds like much of my 2011 was spent hoarding up for the winter!

Now, 'that winter' is here and I am living off leftovers. Left over food items, left over lotion, left over projects, and in someway, leftover dreams. Things that haven't happened yet...but will in 2012. All the things that have been waiting their turn -- yes, even the jar of marinated red peppers that have been patiently waiting -- are going to see their light of day if they exist in Suite 213. I am using up the excess, and creating room for something more.

Even random gifts I have received but never used... an hour massage for my 33rd birthday? A facial from last Christmas? Gift cards to my favorite stores? All getting used.

As a child, I was great at saving for a rainy day and it seems in someways this trait has carried over to adult hood. But what I am saving for? What is any of this stuff doing but collecting dust? Its time to put the things I wanted at one point to good use, or get rid of them.

At some point, I will leave this apartment I now live in. The idea of boxes of past projects, books never read or travel toiletries exiting this space without being used seems silly. So its not going to happen.

Its time to use up what needs using up, and start clearing the space for something new. I know change is around the corner, and I intend to be ready for it.

Campaign 2012

Obviously, I am on the New Year's kick. Obviously, I need to get over it fast -- as its driving myself crazy, as well!

Its my belief that each year have its own tagline, or campaign if you will. If I run down my campaigns for the past three years, it looks a little something like this:

2009: This is me, hear me roar.
2010: Time for something new.
2011: The Year of the Broken Compass (or We will figure it out somehow.)

This year's tagline is a bit different.

One thing that has been missing in my life the past two years is something I am most passionate about, and that is writing. So the idea of writing needed to be incorporated.

Something else that has been missing recently, is the sense of being present. As more often than not, I am either 6 months into the future or digging around in the past. Neither of which is extremely positive or productive.

So, this year's campaign?

"I 'write' here." (Period, no exclamation point)

This is my year to do what I love to do, wherever I happen to be, wherever I happen to go. Because truly, I am right here. And all I want to do is write, share my story, and hopefully somebody out there will want to listen.

Christmas Clash

I try not to get too involved when people in the South talk about religion, especially their own... or mine... especially in public! When asked to pray in public, I politely decline as I think a person's beliefs is a private affair and unless an entire group is of the same faith its wrong to make praying a public happening. Its just my take on it.

But I always find it interesting when these devout people speak out of both sides of their mouths. Like today for instance.

A man in our community is one of the most publickly religious people I know. He won't eat with out praying, raises hand at any public function to say a prayer or rejoice that 'we are children of God', and always speaks of Jesus as if he is his neighbor, or an college pal whom he continues to communicate with every day.

Today he shared a touching story with us about Christmas. It was extremely sweet and very heart wrenching. However, it struck me as odd that this man who talks hourly with God, referred to a child 'not having Christmas' as the child would not receive any monetary gifts.

Isn't the whole belief behind Christmas being there was a baby given to the world, and that was the gift anyone would ever need if they were a follower of Christianity? It wasn't something bought in a store, shipped from Amazon, or coming down your chimney. It was the gift of ever lasting love and life, which is supposedly better than all the contents of Phipps Plaza.

Maybe he was attempting to tell it from a child's perspective and thats the difference... I don't really know. But I do know, I had to pause for several minutes out of shock from what was quite a clash of opposites, and found myself really hoping he did not mean what he had just said.

Sometimes its hard to know when someone 'really didn't mean what they said', after all, they said it. And sometimes its hard to know what they truly meant after such confusing statements, and you can find yourself questioning what it is they really stand for. At the end of the day, its my belief, that MOST people have good intentions. So whether the subject is religious or political or somewhere else on the map, ultimately good people are trying to share well-intended thoughts or stories. And if for some reason it comes off sounding a little confusing from what you expected from them, then maybe its time to give them the gift of cutting one some slack. We are only human after all.

M-I-S-C-E-L-L-A-N-E-O-U-S

Today, as I was finishing my budget spreadsheet for this year, I once again added a column for "miscellaneous". The word synonomous for all the things in life that come up, the things not really planned for, all the extras in life.

Last night, while writing I also used the word 'miscellaneous' as a folder for the words typed on screen that were eventually cut, but might be useable later.

Whether its words left unwritten or sudden extras, the miscellaneous-ness of life gets us every time. Its the unknown, the extra, the 'almost but not quite', the hopeful, the maybe-ness of all that might be. And yet extremely necessary.

At the office I keep a folder entitled the same thing for the random letters that arrive on my desk, the business services who stop in and make a pitch but leave me wondering if we might be able to use their services later; and for all the programs that would be really cool to initiate if we ever got enough funding.

When I think about the way my mind works, it has its one state of miscellaneous. While focused on a situation or idea, there are always extra phrases, words, ideas, images trying to get in on the scene as well.

In life, there will be the extras, the 'I don't know what to do with', the random, the uncertain...but maybe its all the unknowns that makes us more thankful for what we do know. Because each year I always find, that if you have somewhere for 'miscellaneous' to fall...you are usually in a good place. Its when you let all that was unexpected run you over thats a game changer.

We Are Our Childrens' Teachers

Its funny how life works. One day you are the child, it seems the next you are the parent, and then sometime later you become child-like again.

As a new week has begun, not to mention a new year, this idea of the circle of life is in my head. We pass on who we are from one generation to the next, sometimes without meaning too.

On the Today show this morning, the state of Georgia was the unwelcomed feature of one of its segments discussing the obesity rate in America, and specifically the Peach State. Over 1 million children in this state are considered overweight or obese. Kids. Children. Young people. Beings who probably are not fully aware of what being 'overweight' is. People who simply did what they were taught at home and probably didn't realize there was a problem or how to fix it. Many probably don't understand there was a problem in the first place.

The South has constantly been at the core of the obesity epidemic in America. Our fried food, sweet as syrup tea, our mega portions, etc. etc. But our history as a region allowed us to be that way. We were farmers, people who worked the land. People who had more sweat equity in a bushel of peanuts than you or I could imagine. And as a result, required massive amounts of calories to pull off a days work. People walked more from place to place, and therefore needed to intake more fuel to keep their bodies going. That's the way life was.

As technology set in and people didn't move around as much, no one paid attention to portion size as that is what they were used to. But sadly, what worked for one generation doesn't always fit what follows; and the past can be an excellent teacher, but living in the past can be a cruel reality. As the state of Georgia, and the South as a whole, is having to learn.

On a more personal note, I spent Sunday afternoon taking a walk with my mom around her property --what a splendid way to start a new year! As we discussed life and recent happenings and choices, it dawned on me how very much my life has resembled my mother's.

My mother is one of the most creative and yet, most perfectionistic people I know. After spending 10 years in the creative field, I know too well 'the creative curse' -- the waiting to the last minute to get things together, not wanting to shut down the creative process because you are on the brink of something BIG etc. etc. My mom doesn't have that problem. She has beaten every deadline she has set (when left to her own devices). Any space she has been working in is thoroughly spotless afterwards. She is 'creatively efficient'.

Yet, given her love of color and graphics, carpentry and other household projects, she was a math teacher for almost 25 years. A career she did not like one bit. A career she did well, but had little interest in. A career she choose because it made sense for her life based on other people's agendas.

At many times, my own life and career path has been just that. Choices made because they made sense for someone else's circumstances; and ultimately circumstances I put myself in. If I had my choice or the chance to change things long ago, I probably would have. As truly what I learned most from my Ivy League education is that I don't want to be working for 'the man' all my life. Yet, there was rent to pay, not to mention my love for travel; and in NYC -- much like anywhere else -- these things were not be given out as handouts with the morning Subway newspapers. So I stayed in advertising; and every trip somewhere new I would come home with another creative career -- becoming a yoga instructor in Costa Rica, opening a restaurant in some beach town, or writing a novel in Spain. Yet, when I checked my mail when I returned, its contents usually let me know a big job in advertising was the way to go. Corporate America was where the money was. And you are not in love with your job? No one is. Neither was my mom. And I am pretty sure my grandmother wasn't either. Probably true for 95% of people out there, and probably the same number could tell you in heartbeat what they would rather be doing.

Yet, we are taught by example. We learn from what we see. We don't mean to teach our children that 'fried and fat' is the way to be, or that following your dreams is a silly option. But sometimes our society and our history allows us to believe otherwise. Its the unspoken lessons that teach. Its the examples we set that instruct. Daily.

In an advertising campaign I worked on in New York for Girl Scouts of America, the client came to us and wanted help teaching girls about Math and Science, as young girls in our nation had exceedingly low test scores compared to the male counterparts. Through focus group after focus group, we listened to mothers say over and over how they always helped their daughters with their math homework or science projects... yet, when it was asked who handles the electronics in your house -- the tv and cable wires, the sound-system, etc. -- 9 out of 10 women said, "I let her dad handle it."

Whether we like it or not, we are the teachers of tomorrow's generation. What we allow to be okay for us, is what becomes okay for them. While some will break the mold, few people realize the problem until its too late; when true change seems and feels most impossible. But even then, that's when we can instruct, guide and encourage the change the most.

The game of life is never over when there is a tomorrow in front of us. Its never too late to make necessary changes, and its never too late to encourage necessary changes in our youth. "To try and be better, is to be better."

If life truly is about paying it forward, then we owe "better" to what comes after us.

Who says N-O has to be negative?

In typical New Years fashion, I started the year off with a page in my journal dedicated to all the things I am going to do in 2012. My new year's resolutions were nothing fancy or probably any different than what the average person writes down -- get fit, be more organized, put more money in my savings account, work more efficiently, see more of the world, etc, etc. Its a page-long list focused on all the positive outcomes I hope for the year. (Yes, Paige, everyone knows what resolutions are...)

Yet, as I went through my first "non-weekend" day of 2012, with my resolutions at the forefront of thought, there were many things I was NOT going to do that would allow the things I want to come to fruition.

Travel and learn a new language? That means we are NOT spending money on more dresses (I think I have enough), NOT skipping Spanish class, NOT wasting money on the daily splurges that seem like a 'treat' (ie., Starbucks, as wouldn't it better to enjoy a Cafe con Leche at a cafe in Segovia than to dash in and out for an oversized coffee on Main Street?).

Follow my dreams and write more? That means we are NOT going to be scared that dreams can't or won't happen. That means we are not seeking out back-up plans. That means its NOT just something I talk about, but something I do. (If you build it, they will come)

Fit more comfortably into my skinny jeans? That means we are NOT eating late at night, NOT skipping the gym, or over-indulging in my favorite four food groups (cheese, wine, ice cream, and anything that sounds French).

The list went on and on, until I had so many things I was NOT going to do in 2012. (What a year this was going to be!)

As I paged through the NOTs, I realized very few of those things on the No-No list were things I was actually going to miss (minus the occasional trip to Starbucks or a great evening with wine and cheese). Somehow knowing what I was NOT going to do, allowed me to see and believe all the things I was capable of doing in the next 364 days. Saying 'no' wasn't being negative, but focusing on the positive for the things I (we) truly want. Saying 'N-O' is truly saying 'Y-E-S'.

And if 'N-O' can go to 'Y-E-S', a negative can become a positive, then why can't the worst year of my life be followed by one of the best? It may seem simple, it may seem elementary, but in truth, I think it comes down to M-E. Those two little letters are all that separate a N-O from a Y-E-S. It truly does come to me.

A New Page

Happy New Years!

For the first time in what feels like forever, I am going to spend the first night of a new year in my own bed. And I am quite happy about that.

Given my ever-wandering spirit, I have spent the past New Years Day nights in random continents, far-flung cities: From Orlando, to Athens, to New Orleans, to DC, to New York, to Buenos Aires, to Rio, to Atlanta, to Belize, to San Juan to Jax Beach. Traveling is my greatest passion, seeing the world my MOST favorite thing to do, while writing about my journey along the way. And as a result, I have always taken the week between Christmas and New Years to recharge and see something new... which always put me starting the year somewhere else, but never in my space, never at home. But tonight, I will fall asleep in Cartersville, GA, the place I call for home now. This is a much needed first, and one I chose because I wanted to. This new year calls for that, and the sequence of events lets me know I made the right choice.

To commemorate the end of 2011 and the beginning of a new year, I followed last year's original plan and spent the last few days of a wonky year in Jax Beach visiting my dearest of friends, Sue, and one of my favorite people in the world, Sarah. What a truly wonderful time away.

Low-key, beachy, wine-ie, and sun-filled. That's how Ilike to live my life, and that's how this year began. If what they say is true about the first day of the year being how you spend the rest of the year then I am quite pleased with the outlook for 2012...

From being asleep early (by 1AM -- not bad for a NYE!) rising early, hitting the beach for a gorgeous sunrise followed by coffee with Sue before hitting the road (traveling), eating a traditional New Years meal of collard greens and black-eye-peas, and spend the evening with my family, organizing myself for a fresh week and ultimately writing, which is HIGH on the priority list for 2012.

If my year can mirror today, I will be a happy woman at the end of 2012.

There is something so extremely wonder-feeling about following what is written in your heart. Living out the journey we are called to feels like poetry in action. Timing becomes profound. The sequence of events could be coordinated by Alvin Ailey they make so much sense. And my first day of 2012 has been just that...even though it might seem silly or mundane to some.

In fact, to many ts probably downright moronic what I find beautiful in life. From watching the seagulls play on the beach this morning... the sudden surprise of chilly waves running through my toes...having an asthma attack at 6AM that caused me to be up and at 'em in the first place! It all led to one of the most beautiful days I have lived. Even driving 6 hours from Jax Beach to Atlanta became a musical adventure as I rocked out to 'RENT' from Broadway and really did almost 'Defy Gravity' with Galinda and Elzeba. (yep! I was the animated driver you love to see in your rearview mirror at stop lights.)

When I left Jax Beach this morning, after morning coffee with Sue at 'Shelbys' followed by big hugs, I had tears streaming down my face, simply because I was so damn happy. I've been in a weepy state all day just knowing how beautiful this year can be if I allow it, and then the year next, and the year next, and so on and so on.

Life - like anything - is all about choice. We choose to follow a dream or not; give into the 'shoulds' of life or not; to believe in ourselves or not. And ultimately listen to our hearts or not.

My favorite author, Paulo Coehlo, has a quote that is so fitting for today:

"Your heart is always there. So you might want to listen to what it has to say."

And with that, I raise my glass of club soda, and say "Here's to you 2012! May it be a heart-ful journey to the very end."

Insufficient Funds

Science class was never my thing in school. Dissecting frogs, knowing what molecules made certain compounds, discovering what happened when you added heat to a situation... all of these things were lost on me. However, the one thing I do remember, and it still sticks with me to this day, is the law of matter: nothing is created or destroyed. It simply takes on a different form. Hydrogen can make water, and then evaporate into something more. Compost can become earth again, if you add enough time. A life can recreate life, if you add chemistry. Or something like that.

This morning has be thinking of life's giant checking account, where things are added and taken away... added again and then taken away... and the cycle continues. Or so it would seem. However, on this beautiful Friday morning, I feel like my own personal bank account has big red lights flashing, telling me to slow down, don't put anything else out there until something comes back in. I feel depleted. Spent. Overdrawn.

If every action has an equal and opposite reaction, then when does the act of giving turn to recieving? When do you get back what you put out? Does chemistry, physics or the law of matter have a time limit? Or are we just to keep acting, keep putting it out there, until the tides turn and we are no longer thirsting in the desert?

Tuning in is never a bad thing, but often it's a sad thing. As turning in, means there's no one reaching out. Which often means that the 'equal and opposite reaction' is not happening.

If only life could be a bit more cut and dry like science class. If only there were rules we all abided by. If only there was a guarantee that what you give out, you get back easily. But life is seldom simple, and rarely ever easy. But maybe its the complexity of life that makes it more wonderous than science, as you never know what you will get until you get out of bed and get out there to see what happens. At some point, something has gotta give...right?

The Anatomy of an Artichoke

Living back in the South, one of the things I have thoroughly enjoyed is having a proper kitchen. You know the kind with a full-size fridge, stove (used for cooking, not storage space), 4 eyes that actually work and counter space for slicing and dicing vs being used as a book shelf. I swear, living in a Manhattan studio makes you look at everything differently.

With all this kitchen space, I get to do one of the things I enjoy most: having dinner parties. That could be for two or twenty, but regardless of number I love cooking for people, drinking wine while preparing, chatting about anything that comes up and just 'relaxing' at home and allowing others to enjoy my home.

Last night was no exception.

Having realized the summer was slipping away and I had not put my kitchen to good use, had me hosting an intimate soiree with recipies I had learned at "scuola di cucina" in Tuscany. One of my favorite dishes 'Penne ala Carciofi', required the dissecting of four overgrown artichokes I had picked up at Trader Joes over the weekend.

While my dinner guest picked at the cheese and charcuterie laid out before him, I stood on the other side of the counter picking apart this flower-like vegetable, petal by petal, leaf by leaf. Given the monstrosity of the ones I had picked, getting to the core was no small feat. Which obviously required some effort as my guest asked several times, "you okay over there?" To which I replied every time, "of course, keep talking..." all the while gritting and grimacing and wondering at what point I just cut the darned thing in half and extract the heart that way. But this was the way Mario had instructed us, and when in Rome...

(I will say in my guests defense, he had been banned from my kitchen space as I was cooking for him, vs us cooking together, as he is usually right in there doing the dirty work, too.)

As I got to the final layers of the prickly flower, I realized that the heart of the artichoke was missing... or based on my knowledge it was. I immediately called a group inspection, as my guest knew way more about this stuff than I did. And he confirmed, no heart. I started pulling apart another one, and learned the same thing, no heart. And then two of us dug around in a frantic pace at the remaining artichokes to see what we could find. And again, the dried up remnents of a heart. Nothing worth saving, nothing that was edible, and into the bin all four went.

We divided and conquered the next step of meal preparations. He went to Publix for replacements, leaving me in my 'cucina' to continue preparing dinner, and in a place of solitude mentally allowing my thoughts to simmer along with the olive oil and garlic I had just added to the skillet.

So many layers of an artichoke, so much work to get through, and then there was nothing. It was sad in a way. Had I purchased these veggies with the idea of steaming them and eating the petals, these would have been perfect. But since I had not, they had been deemed as useless. As is typical with me in these moments, I began making mental correlations from artichokes to life and back again.

As humans, we have all this 'life' we are doing constantly. From work, to play, to family, to hobbies, to friends, to all the countless things we get caught up in. At times, I know my life is a borderline zoo at times with as many balls as I get going in the air. Doing, doing, doing... going, going, going... Never stopping. Workout... work... friends... family... home... hobbies... travels... play... Its constant motion from the moment I wake to the moment I crash. And most people are like that. But in doing so, are we adding more layers to our lives, more structure and security externally, further burying what lies within? Are we adding more to the facade that someone must dig through to get to the real us in order to understand who we are at our core?

Are we really all just versions of an artichoke, with all these layers to protect our hearts and feelings from the outside world that has hurt us before? And the more layers, the more we've been hurt? The more we have to hide? And perhaps, maybe, as in the case as I witnessed just moments before, secretly hiding the fact that our hearts are dried up and withered and no use to anyone?

As the door opened, and more artichokes were procurred from the grocery, dinner preparations resumed... the conversation came off 'pause', all the while my 'artichoke thoughts' continued to sautee in the back burner of my mind.

There are so many layers to who I am, not to mention who I want to be. Having spent so many years in different places vs. my hometown, there are so many bits that add into the puzzle, the friends, the dreams, all the details that make me me. But having lived in a world where you don't say too much too soon, you keep personal things personal, and business is business, there is a lot of added layers to my personal artichoke. Lots. Maybe, just maybe, there's a part of my heart that can still be found in all this stuff. And maybe, just maybe its still open, it can be softened, and can be fruitful and found of use to someone...I certainly hope so. Unlike tonight's cooking experiment, these things can't be bought at the local grocery. You only get one heart... you gotta treat it right.

Mapmaker, Mapmaker, make me a map...

This past weekend was a relatively low-key one. I stayed around Cartersville, with side trips for yoga and drinks on Friday and a long bike ride on Saturday morning. Lots of time focused on being quiet, meditative even, as a I consider what it is I want most in this upcoming 34th year of life.

Friday's yoga journey was one of my best classes ever. Despite the heat, my mind was at peace, and as Jeff led us through the 26 postures of the Bikram series my thoughts flowed smoothly. My body held the poses, and my mind held the rythmn of this meditation. One step, then the next... one pose, then the next... one breath, then the next... and then finally one last deep breath, namaste.

As I left the room, drenched in sweat, yet feeling refreshed (oddly), I kept returning in a mental sense to the yoga room. When I got to the class, rolled out my mat and lay down with my eyes open, I knew exactly what would happen when class began. I knew the deep breathing exercise before the first 3 standing poses. I knew the physical steps of this journey. But I did not know where my mind would go in the next 75 minutes of being caught up in some sort of overdone heatwave.

Maybe that is the way it always is in life. Knowing the steps that need and will be taken, yet the mental and emotional component is always up for grabs.

As I thought about my pending travels to Europe this fall, I thought of the quick itenirary taped to my desk with the number of days I will be in each of the 8 cities I hope to see. One city, then the next... one step, then another...

The steps laid out, separated by trains or quick flights to here and there, and yet the mental journey of 'traveling' is what is unknown. How will each city make me feel? What will meeting up with old friends mean? What thoughts will be explored as I explore parts of Europe I have never set foot in?

Of course, that is what makes life 'life'. A series of many steps, a series of many breaths, a series of plans where we know where we are going, but we don't know what we will think or feel along the way. That is the surprise, that is what elevates 'an itenirary' to 'a journey'. An opportunity to explore ourselves in a new way. To put more thought into what we are doing... whether that be a Warrior I pose or raising a stein to good times in Munich.

What is it we hope to gain by taking the steps we take? What is it we hope to gain by following the path we have laid out in front of us? What is the goal of going here or there?

In coming to yoga, the goal was to breathe deep and let the past week go. In planning a foray to the other side of the pond, it's to let go for a while, reconvene with good friends, and have fun seeing a few cities I have yet to explore.

But what next? Where are all these little 'series of events' leading? My mind continued to wander, until I had wandered beyond Europe and found myself in the present ready to leave the yoga studio. On the way to meet up with a friend, I let the map of Europe expand to the map of my life -- what I want most, and how to make it happen.

So many plans to put into place. So much life to live. In daring to think what I wanted in this life, I more or less felt like I was unlocking an abandoned cupboard and all these old thoughts came raining down on me. How easy it was to breathe these thoughts in, how welcoming they were to my searching being. Thoughts that had been waiting for me to pick them up again... kind of like the book you start, but put down when life gets too busy... And here, were these dreams, these desires for life, ready to be pursued. In many ways it felt like digging in an old trunk, pulling out an old dress, dusting it off...smoothing a few wrinkles, and trying it on to see if it still fit.

And of course 'it' did. Our innermost desires seldom change. These desires are the keepers of us, the keepers of our hearts, the fire that gets us going so that our life can be what we invisioned, what we truly want. Its the voice of 'knowing' that this is the path you were meant to follow. Its the voice of guidance that tells you it will be okay.

I had not allowed this voice to be heard in quite some time. I had tuned it out, as I focused more on what others said I should want, or what would be best for me. As a result of listening to a caucophony of voices, I had gotten so far off track from what I wanted. My 'map closet' was in a true state of disarray. If you could even get the door open, you would find about 6 different maps spread out and all jumbled together. All of which I had explored in the past year. All of which led me no where. Or at least, no where I wanted to be.

Somewhere between a bike ride on Saturday, a long run on Sunday and quiet time later that afternoon, I got my map closet in order. There is only one map in play from here on out. Its the one that is etched in my heart. The one I know and feel the steps to take, the path, the pit stops along the way.

For in this life, we are all going somewhere... to yoga, to work, to Europe, or maybe just home. But in order to to get to where we want to go, we have to know where that is -- where it is we are wanting to go. Once that is decided, then the journey begins. Choose the path, choose where your next footprint will fall... and then let it all go. Let your mind wander, along with your heart...for its the story told by your mind and heart that allow a 'map' to lead to a journey.

Just like with Friday night's yoga, and the unexpected meditation. Or the many trips I have taken, and returned home on the brink of discovery. One step always leads to the next. One breath always leads to the next. But the true adventure happens when we let it all go, when we let our hearts and our spirits wander along with our feet, and dare to see where we will end up.

Chalking it up to Ideals

My life isn't the only life that has been thrown a curve ball or two. Although, when it comes to my days on this Earth, it does seem I am getting closer to 1/2 a dozen or so hiccups, where everything was thrown up in the air, time to regroup, restart and replan the rest of my life. I won't complain, as each time this has happened things sort themselves for the better, I become stronger, more independent and more focused on what I truly want. Its definitely for the positive.

2011 started with a hiccup - a BIG one - but not one that everyone did not predict or see coming. As the year has progressed and I have moved forward, I have often looked back and wondered 'what was I thinking?!', how did I get so far down this path - almost to the point of no return - when I simply wasnt happy, and never was going to be if I continued such path?

Then the other day, it all became clear, quite unexpectedly. A friend of mine and I were driving by a crowd of people, and I saw a guy who resembled my old beaux. I commented out loud, "That guy looks like such-n-such but with darker hair...It kinda looks brown." My friend practically stopped the car, exclaiming, "IT IS SUCH-N-SUCH AND OF COURSE HE HAS BROWN HAIR!!!"

Really? I always had thought it was blonde. As I looked back at the crowd, it was definitely my old friend. I recognized the same polo-shirt from last summer, same khaki shorts and same old flip flops. Yet it was him - his being - I hardly recognized. My old beaux definitely had brown hair, not blonde. And I was the idiot of the day for not seeing it.

Such a simple realization sent my thinking mind a churning and I had to wonder outloud as we continued on our drive. Is it possible, that maybe I was just 'too in it' to ever recognize the real him, to see him as he was? That I was so focused on making the situatation work, to make it what I wanted, that I never allowed myself to see the situation for what it truly was? Maybe if I hadn't been so focused on "the ideal situation", the "happenstance of life", the "need to find purpose in the whirlwind that led me back to Cartersville", I would have seen the light... the truth... what was real, and what was not...way before this random summer day? Not because of his brown hair, but because we never saw each other for who we were as people. The 'ideal' was there, but the reality was a bitter bite. Maybe had I seen clearly prior to now, the frustrations, the angst, the unhappy memories of the previous year wouldn't exist.

But they do. And as a result, I will never know the person in the crowd with brown hair, and he will never know me as I truly am. And it is sad, but it is real.

Long before this summer day, I had asked myself (and several girlfriends) if a yoga-mat-carrying, subway-riding NYCer who voted for Obama was capable of finding happiness with a truck-driving, sub-division-living GA-boy. Somewhere in the past 18 months I had figured out the answer, but it didn't ring crystal clear until now.

Somehow the ideal of 'making it work' outdid the truth of 'different strokes for different folks'. But we... or at least I... know now. Time to wipe the fingerprints and smudgies off the 'glasses of life', focus on what is real and say 'c'e la vie' to what isn't. Learn from the mistakes of yesterday, and move further forward.

Let 'ideals' be what they are, something to hope for, something to wish for. But let life and reality be what we want, what feels good, what we would choose if our eyes and our hearts are wide open... and what we recognize as real from afar (or up close), no matter how much time passes.

Making a List

One of the greatest joys of living in Georgia after an 8 year hiatus, is being around to witness the young years of my nephew's life. While there are times I question if Ramsey has any love for his aunt, I never have to question adoration I have for him or the beauty of being around for his wonder years.

My favorite Ramsey story of late, as told by my mother, goes something like this:

Ramsey and 'Nama (my mom) are making cookies, and in doing so they used the last of a key ingredient. Ramsey looks at Nama, and says 'you better put it on the (grocery) list.'

As my mom wrote the item on the household grocery list, Ramsey looks at her and said,

'Now if your good, you just may get it for Chwistmas.'

Ah, the connections made by a three-year-old!