Short Advice on Thriving

there’s something so pure about running that I’ve not been able to replicate with any other limbs based activity,
(and I’ve tried many)

the buoyant, almost drunken sense of movement,

the meditative repetition that comes with placing one foot in front of the other, and then the other foot in front of the first,

pushing yourself (a little maniacally) as far as you can go to then see what happens when you get there,

waking up the next morning to do it all over again.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 189 of the year, there are 177 days remaining of 2022.

she was the first woman in her village to go to university,

during a time when meat was a luxury reserved for the few, she studied biochemistry and obtained a high position working at a meat factory,
we were never hungry.

after being forced to quit her job, she bought a sewing machine and taught herself how to use it,
first socks, then shirts, then coats,
a few years later, my parents had built one of the biggest clothing factories in town.

after 20+ years of working in the clothing business, she reinvents herself (again,) closes down the factory, and goes back to university to study pedagogy,

my mom has now been a biochemistry teacher for 5 years.

she is a badass goddess of a woman that worked and fought and prayed for all of her accomplishments.

the times are tough, but women are tougher.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 187 of the year, there are 179 days remaining of 2022.

I’ve loved words for as long as I could read.

their ability to convey smells, and sounds, and taste;
to make you laugh and cry and keep you hostage within the world they’ve created,
a world that did not exist until you’ve opened the cover…

the warmth that comes with feeling my eyes making contact with the words on the page and have meaning rise up and echo in my head…

stopping at times because I needed to savor them for a second longer: somber, wistful, corporal…

as a child, I remember frequently retreating in my head, arranging and re-arranging the same sentence, over and over again, for hours, looking for the perfect formula that, of course, did not exist

it’s really no surprise that it’s taken me 25 years to unearth this desire to write…

publicly accountable this time, as a grand gesture of courage and stupidity (same difference?)

at the risk of tumbling head first into embarrassment, I’m now attempting to do in words what I had previously only done in thoughts…

the greatest gift of all.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 186 of the year, there are 180 days remaining of 2022.

omne trium perfectum

she, he, they
birth, life, death
beginning, middle, end
past, present, future
mind, body, soul
red, yellow, blue
gold, silver, bronze,
first, second, third
art, science, religion
father, son, holy spirit
shiva, vishnu, brahma,
oak, ash, thorn
hip, hip, hooray!
going once, going twice… SOLD!

if at first you don’t succeed, always remember…
third time’s a charm.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 182 of the year, there are 183 days remaining of 2022.

it is such a profoundly earthly desire to love and feel loved in return.

to love is to feel stronger and weaker all at once,
both hopeful and cynical,
lost and found.

it’s in this chaotic choreography of conflicts that I think lays the most beautiful type of love…
the kind that is deeply connected and protective of each other’s otherness,

free of manipulation and expectations,
free of noise and performance,
the kind of love that grounds you even when your world is shifting.

something that combines such maturity and naiveté is nothing short of human.

so hard and yet,
so easy.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 179 of the year, there are 186 days remaining of 2022.

there are so many things our bodies do, that we take for granted…

until, of course, it’s no longer capable of doing the thing.

it’s even worse when the thing is integral to keeping us alive.

from the heart that conveniently pumps blood, to the skin that effortlessly protects our insides from the outsides.

anxiety literally took my breath away…

which sucked, because it’s something I’ve really enjoyed doing for as long as I can remember.

seemingly overnight, I had found myself in a world in which to breathe meant to be able to choke.

I’ve survived days unable to remove myself from the security of my bed, convinced that should I do so, I would forcibly collapse to the ground, from lack of oxygen…

…immediately followed by days in which I’d run multiple 10k’s as if I had forgotten that I could indeed, just walk.

a breath, never the same,

and never again taken for granted.

next time you breathe, take a deep one.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 177 of the year, there are 188 days remaining of 2022.

much to their parents dismay, between the ages of 2 and 5, kids ask, on average, 40000 questions.

but life has a way of breaking its promises to children and
teachers have to make sure kids know answers, not questions.

curiosity is an integral part of the human experience, yet the older we get, the more answers we’re expected to have. why?

well, the reason is comically simple…

not knowing is associated with lack of intelligence. the pretense is tiresome, but apparently necessary.

it also explains the rise in the amount of people suffering from the impostor’s syndrome.
the irony is, of course, that you can’t be an impostor in your own life.

I wish that you have nothing but questions about the world around you.

today is day 175 of the year, there are 190 days remaining of 2022.