Ghost Value

I might have mentioned in my last post wanting more heart in the upcoming year.  It is something I dream about, but also know that deep down it couldn't happen until it felt a bit more complete.

Part of what I believe to be true of love is that it needs to be practiced to be perfected, true with most worthwhile things in life.  But love is a battlefield, and sometimes the practice can lead to injury, whether or not we can see the bruise, we can feel it.

There was a chain of events that have left me all but emotionally crippled in the love department for the last couple of years.  Bold statement, right?  Ask all of those who know and love me, and they will attest to it; I'm somewhat of an idiot when it comes to love.

One of the ones who took a little piece of my heart also took a few other things for his trophy room of conquests.  Things I had been missing, things I felt incomplete without.  For these missing items, I traded a bit of my sanity, a dash of my pride and a couple ounces of my freedom to learn a valuable lesson: I am valuable.  

Instead of allowing whomever to hold my heart (momentarily or otherwise) I learned that the only person who should hold it is me, because sometimes people steal things that aren't theirs. Sometimes people hit & run, and run away with your love. Sometimes these are the people that you can not get out of your heads; its because they are holding your heart hostage.  This is different than sharing your heart with someone - and eventually, after trust is earned, they can hold it for you.  It's about knowing that what you possess is important, of value.

I AM VALUABLE.

After finally finally believing it, and believing I was worthy of, well, ANYTHING, I got those things back.  

I got my freedom. I got my pride. I got my sanity back. And, most importantly, I got my heart back. 

It is no longer held hostage by this person, returned to its rightful owner, with too much new love in said owners life to allow for even one fragment of time to consider the kidnapper. 

He is forgotten; just as I am to him.  He has left me to move on.

Physically, this was done quite some time ago. Mentally, it happened in my dreams last night.

But I will not forget the lesson left behind. No, that ghost will always be welcome. 

Hiatus Discontinued

Apologies in the lag time, life took over and all extra-curricular activities took a back seat to pressing issues like work, and vamping the apartment, books, cooking, building my record collection, and knitting.

Tonight is the last night before my 27th birthday. I'd be completely full of shit if I said I was completely content about turning closer to 30. 

I honestly don't feel like I'm 27. Hell, I don't even feel like I'm 22. Sometimes, I feel like my whole adult life has been a series of make believe games devoted to "acting" like an adult.  As a result, the last few weeks have been the great beginnings of a quarter life crisis; panicking about what you thought your life would be like all while realizing its not anywhere near that. Wondering if what you are doing with yourself makes any sense anymore. Feeling confused about, well, everything.

While I was at work the other day, feeling a bit more peaceful about the upcoming celebrations, my dear friend asked me what I was going to wish for this year. I joked around with her saying if I told her it wouldn't come true, and she said it was important to decide what your next year of life would all be about before it actually arrived; almost like creating a welcome party full of the energy you want to surround your year with.

I loved that.

This year is about heart. Not love, but heart. Passion. Our motivation for doing. Our reason for being. Knowing why its all worth it. The questions I've raised in myself have made me realize a lot of things in my life have fallen apart; some in a good way, others in a bad way. Being with people who have always meant the world to me has really put things in perspective. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with any of the most recent developments, but I know that I want, no, I NEED my life to mean and be more than it is. 

I'm lacking the heart. 

And I know the heart of life is good. 

I just want my part of it.

So cheers to one of the most challenging years of my life, and cheers to what will hopefully be one of the most rewarding years of my life ... full of heart.

Delicious Dish

For the next two weeks (before moving into heaven in Park Slope) I am cat sitting for a co-worker in Astoria. She lives alone, and I am loving my quality alone time.

I've set myself into a wonderful domestic routine that used to be my norm, but over the last year has dwindled away due to less-than-perfect living situations.  I make my coffee in the morning, watch the news, get ready for the day, enjoy a delicious breakfast, bring my lunch to work with me, and after work, I head home to cook a wonderful dinner, enjoy a glass of wine and listen to great music.

To say I'm in a euphoric state of mind is an understatement ...

I forgot how much I loved to cook. Since I moved to New York, the amount of cooking I do has dwindled to, well, none.  But I miss the sense of normalcy it gave me, and am absolutely loving the creative meals I am coming up with. They are healthy, delicious and all something I created. 

And that is certainly something that makes me feel good ... feed your body, feed your heart, feed your soul.  

Serenity Now

So I realize I'm one of the last people in the world to jump on the Zen bandwagon, but I have to tell you all about my first experiences with yoga.

My good friend Gigi continually invites me to midnight yoga on Friday nights, complete with live music, and candlelight and really wonderful energy. I say no most nights, but honestly only because I have to be at work so early in the morning on Saturday.  One day, she insisted she wouldn't take no for an answer, so I tagged along, anxious and nervous and really ready to calm down after the stress of the week.

Walking into the yoga studio, we were greeted by a warm environment; created by not only the instructor/studio owner, but the air, and the candles, and the soft music coming from the acoustic guitar being played. I immediately felt some tension release.

Class begins, and so does this beautiful music, and the instructor was kind, and patient, and generous with her knowledge. The breathing exercises, and the stretches and the meditative energy that was all around us was absolutely intoxicating.

What was really addicting for me though was the next day. My entire core felt tight and strong; I had a fluid pep to my step. I felt calm, collected and happy that I had taken an hour and a half to myself to just. let. go.

As an end result, I have been to four classes in three weeks, am the proud owner of a blue yoga mat, and as a result, I feel beautiful ... 

Which is what its all about, right?

Pack Your Bags

This weekend, in an effort to celebrate my patriotism, I headed to Boston.  So much of the East Coast (or rather, ALL of it) is unexplored by myself, and any chance I have to see a place I haven't yet always gets me going.

The lovely Adri Leya grew up there, and I have been harassing her to take me since we met.  It was absolutely love at first sight. There are so many elements of the West Coast that I miss and are just not present in NYC - but Boston has them! I felt right at home with the people and the energy, and Adri Leya proved once again to be a fantastic hostess.

We weren't able to travel there together, but just getting on the bus, knowing I was headed somewhere new, somewhere I had never been was almost exhilerating. I remembered how important it was to get out there and travel, and see new things!  I was reminded how confident and happy it makes me feel. Even in my daily commute on the subway to work, I am independent, and I forget it all the time. This city provides so many distractions, I have a hard time keeping the days straight.

Its so wonderful to be reminded of the little things that make up who you are ... 

Honestly

I don't feel pretty.

It's hard for me to admit that, because from looking at me, you would probably assume that I have confidence, charm and charisma, and don't doubt for a second that I am pretty.

But I do. All the time. And its even gotten to the point that I have a hard time accepting the thought of someone else thinking I was pretty.

This isn't being shared to get a pity party started. No, no.

Rather, it's to be completely honest. This blog (and my confidence) are getting a much needed makeover.

I am in desperate need of a self-esteem locater, since mine has gone missing.

I used to do countless things that made me feel like a million bucks, like I could do anything, conquer the world, and I miss that part of me; its the part that makes us all tick.

My plan is simple, and something I am really excited about.

I am going to try anything and everything to get me feeling good, and happy and confident. From aromatherapy to yoga, feng shui to cake decorating, I have a list of things I am going to try and then share the entire experience right here.

Anything goes, and I can't wait to choose my own adventure.

True beauty comes from within, and I can't wait to feel pretty for just being me, not because of my reflection.

This isn't your average beauty blog.

Spring = Cleaning

In the spirit of all things seasonal change, I decided to make the most out of my teeny-tiny room and have some good ol' fashioned spring cleaning.

I sorted through my clothes, old papers, junk drawers, beauty drawers (yes, there are more than one) trying to make a home for everything.

A place for everything and everything in its place!

That might actually work if my room was bigger than a shoe closet, and I could rearrange my furniture in more than the one way it's in.

My room totally has potential. The problem is that I just have way. too. much. stuff!  Even after the cleaning, the arranging, the run to Ikea AND Home Depot - still not enough room!

And, as it turns out, things in my room don't like to be moved around too much. They began attacking me. A shelf fell on my head, I stepped on a nail, I cut my finger open, and I dropped a hammer on my foot.  

Super fun!

If someone could just find me a beautiful classic six on the Upper East Side in a rent controlled building, I'm sure I could manage with that amount of space.