letsgrowhope

[letsgrowhope]

Just Do It For the Memoir

I was hoping when I got married I’d solve the mystery and be able to pass on the secret

On how you actually make relationships work

Because everything prior was the worst

Being single for me mostly felt like trying to solve a Rubik’s cube during a game of Jenga

I read a lot motivational books during that time. A lot of soul searching, find your path, unlock the door into the magic you always imagined, books. One of them said that how you view life says a lot about you

Some people view life like writing a story. Or like playing a game. Like taking a walk in the park or baking a cake

I viewed life like a puzzle

A very confusing, intricate, puzzle run by a sneaky magician who wants to psyche me out by making pieces unmovable, against all logic

There are some major pieces in life that we believe have to fit a certain way in order for the picture to end out at all right. Let’s call them the corner pieces. The framework you have to solidify in order for any progress to be made.

My corner pieces were finding my soul mate and my dream career

And I guarantee you I tried every configuration to make the damn pieces fit

You should be able to just pick one and work it around until it fits the way you want

You can’t tell me I’m the only one who does it. Just think about the last time your single girlfriend texted a guy she liked. Let me guess. She asked you and 6 other girlfriend’s how to phrase it just right. Should I lead with a ‘hey’ or ‘hiiiii' or ‘sup’ or just a waving hand emoji?

Subconsciously we actually believe that if we don’t orchestrate that initial text just right, he won’t bite. And we’ll screw up the whole plan to make this the corner piece that fits dammit!

Are we supposed to wait for him to come around, just give him more time? Or call him out and demand what you want! No, go on more dates, girl you just need to meet more guys. Wait, maybe ask your married girlfriends to set you up, that could work...

I went on 20 first dates in LA

I then moved to London and went on 20 more

And that year didn’t bring me any closer to finding love

I had an old friend come visit me in April

We got engaged in July

And married that October

PC: Jeremiah Warren

And I genuinely don’t know how it happened, what made the pieces suddenly fit

Which bothered me

In the midst of being so excited and over the moon to be getting engaged and married that soon, I found myself trying to blink back the moment that made it all finally work. It happened too fast, I must have missed it! Rewind, go back through it in slow motion. Still can’t find it. The “thing” I did to make it work. The secret I could pass on to my other girlfriends when the guy they last went out with turned out to be another jerk.

When I was single my advice was to go out more cause “he ain’t gonna jump through your window!”

Now, I’m at a loss. Because that’s not how it worked at all.

But it makes for a great story. Another thing I used to always say: “Just do it for the memoir!” Put yourself out there, go for it, say yes- because every experience could be validated in my mind if I learned something from it. No, he didn’t just break my heart. He taught me a great lesson, so surely I can’t regret it or blame him (that was bullshit, don’t listen to it)

I actually really love memoirs. The first memoir I read was when I was a junior in high school. It was Barbara Walter’s, “Audition”. Ever since, I’ve been hooked on bad ass women’s life stories. I used to buy a new, hard backed memoir, before every trip I took. On my flight to Thailand and India I read Diane von Furstenberg's “The Woman I Wanted to Be” and between Cuba and London I read Gloria Steinem’s “My Life on the Road”. I was addicted to hearing the story in reverse. The wise, successful woman that spoke of her past insecurities, heart breaks, and failures with a separation and ease. They were no longer life wrenching anxieties, they were just good stories. All of their lives read like fairytales, because even the rough patches just added glamour to the story.

I thought I could be the same. I distinctly remember sitting in the JFK airport waiting for a flight to Dubai when I was reading Gloria Steinem’s memoir (and simultaneously texting an old friend/crush/lover. Bad old habit of mine, ya know just playing with fire). I took a picture of her words and it is still saved to my phone. Because I thought it was the answer. She said, “I always tried to stay in touch with the people that were important in my life and the people that I loved. Once I love, I love forever, and there is nothing more cozy and meaningful than old friends and lovers. I’m so fortunate that I have had and have so much love in life. Without it, I would never be who I am.”

It made me feel so much better. It made sense to the messy trail of fleeting relationships I was beginning to create. It validated my tendency to draw close to men quickly, get a glimpse of the intimacy I craved, and watch it blow past and never last. I’m sure Gloria didn’t intend for me to turn her words into the permission I needed, but I thought realizing that old lovers made me who I am would allow me to look back on those “relationships” with fondness of sweet memories and lessons.

But those lessons were mostly “let it go” and “don’t get too attached”. Be chill, be free, be the girl that can just enjoy a person in the moment but have no need to make it last.

I would linger around for guys that I knew would never commit, because I prided myself in being able to “just be friends” with someone I used to be “more” with. It felt more mature, more modern, to be able to move on from relationships as a level headed adult that was still able to maintain a friendship. So that’s what I did. I still texted all my old lovers and if we were in the same city, met up with them even. Every new relationship I entered I proudly said that I would have no hesitation to pick up the phone and call any ex’s. Because they were all my friends. There were no hard feelings, I wasn’t jaded. I still cared about them. It was a banner I had to wave to convince myself and everyone else that I was in control.

I even went so far as to convince myself that wanting marriage made me a wimp. I was laying next to someone I knew had no interest in anything serious, and I have the journal entry I wrote about why I suddenly didn’t believe in marriage. I had convinced myself that me wanting commitment was just me being insecure. That maturity would allow me to let lovers come and go.

It’s been a long journey in a short amount of time. It’s certainly been a puzzle. But each twist of the Rubik’s lends a great story. And while I no longer say “just do it for the memoir”, I am grateful for each of those chapters. Because they really do shape you, and ultimately, free you.

But I’ll tell you the end now just so you don’t miss it: it’s not all for the memoir. Don’t do things just for the story. Because you can have a fabulous memoir and still feel empty. You can have fantastic stories about jetting off to new countries and hooking up with beautiful models and still never feel completely validated. The stories are great for learning but they’re no good at fulfilling. But boy do they bring all the feelings…so don’t you worry, I’ll go ahead and still tell the stories.

[letsgrowhope]

gypsies get married too

I’m not one of those “engaged girls”, I promise.

5 months ago I was as single as a slice of American cheese. Spread thin across a list of first dates and reasons why keeping your options open equates freedom.

(Sorry, it just doesn’t)

That list of “maybe”’s and “we’re taking it slow”’s weren’t giving me more freedom, they were bogging me down with angst over having “options” but twice as many pro/con lists.

It feels weird walking into a room and being asked to see “the ring” when I’m used to people asking me about my last trip or if I’m moving again.

My identity has been so wrapped up in being solo that I’m baffled what it will feel like to be the married girl. I can’t even live in the same place for more than 18 months. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a roommate for more than a year. When I look back on the past few years I see a maze of stages but certainly not a consistent confidant physically with me through all of it.

So how does the fact that I’m getting married in 2 months not freak me out!? How could it possibly feel this normal that I’m going to live with my best friend F O R E V E R. I’m looking at my engagement ring right now. I have a wedding dress in my closet, invitations in the mail. How in the world can this possibly feel so normal. How can I still feel so normal?

I get that people see me as an independent, gypsy girl

I’ve met a lot of other gypsies though

And trust me, they’re all looking for the same thing.

We’re gypsy’s so we can find someone

Nobody is traveling the world, watching the sunset over the Mediterranean, and not thinking “man I wish I had my true love here with me.”

But in gypsy school, you’re taught that admitting you’re looking for love blows your cover. So keep it under wraps, puhleaaase. You can’t be a gypsy AND want to be with one someone. Because that might make people think you’re settling down. And that’s completely contrary to your spirit of searching and adventure, so you’d better stop that. You’re not allowed to “be worried” cause you have so much time, of course you’ll find someone! You’re not allowed to mention “commitment”, cause you should be having fun searching around until you’re at least 30...

Well hi, my name is Hope, and deep down I’m still a gypsy, but hey, I just learned that gypsies get married young too. Isn’t that fun! Sometimes it’s just a lil tricky finding the one, cause gypsies can be really silly, so they take a special kind of love.

I’ve been told “the one” is a bluff but life, especially love, is far too peculiar and insane to assume anything is chance. Some people are meant to be. There’s no way you can convince me otherwise, the romantic has spoken.   

I was literally the girl that went on 50 first dates in a year to compare the Peter Pan’s of LA with the proper gents of London (warning: chivalry does not mean Peter Pan has necessarily grown up   -___- ). I was of course hoping the “research” would increase my chances of finding “the one” tucked in there somewhere. Instead it just made me so aware of the feeling “this is nice but not quite right”. I thought it was me not being ready to settle down, but it was really just me making sure I knew, that’s not your one, so move right along. 

I am so sensitive to the little trigger inside that says “this isn’t it” that when the radar screams “THIS IS THE ONE” my mind went into a spiral, wait, what did you hear that!? I didn’t know that signal worked in me! It wasn’t a joke though, it wasn’t a fairytale. You really can fall massively in love with someone and have something inside you say absolutely, 100 and 10 thousand percent yes. You can actually feel no hesitation, completely mutual joy and adoration. Oh, I was so close to thinking that it was all a farce…

I was a “single girl “such a short time ago, I still feel the novelty of having made it to the other side. And looking back, I wish I could just tell myself, hey, you’re doin just fine. It’s not a farce. There is another side, and there’s not a puzzle you need to solve to find it. 

I’m so loved by someone, a man I get to call my own, and it’s better than I could even imagine it was gonna be. I talk to him all day. He listens to me when I’m crying in bed and knows just the right words to bring me around. He breathes life and hope into my days. Gives my wandering direction. My whole life has changed and yet nothing has changed at all.

I still feel the same in so many ways.

I’m still searching, because we shouldn’t ever stop that. I’m still fighting for true life purpose. Trying to learn something new, plan adventures. I feel all those same things, I just have the love and security of someone sticking with me through it. Someone’s who’s asking the same things. Someone that hears my soul and says “yep, me too”. It feels like magic, something I’ve wanted for so long, but never would click. It finally happened, and it feels so, normal.

I think that’s how you know you’re with your best friend. Cause it’s less like “hey, will you be my husband” (yeah that word totally doesn’t feel normal) and more like, will you just keep doing whatcha ya doin cause I wanna run up beside and come along with you.

Getting hitched doesn’t change you.

Oh what a sweet relief to discover that.

You’re still so the same.

I knew a guy couldn’t and shouldn’t change me.

But I had no idea how normal it would feel, how absolutely the same I would be.

I’d begun sort of saying goodbye to this season of Hope. The always moving, searching, wandering soul. It feels like a kid graduating and going off to college. They won’t come back the same at fall break. And I have a pile of journals transcribing the years of single wondering, waiting to be with “my person”. And in 76 days that season is officially over. A season that has felt so intertwined with my identity, but actually is completely separate.

I’m saying goodbye to this single phase I’ve grown so accustomed to. But I’m not saying goodbye to single Hope. Because single Hope has nothing to do with being single. Single Hope always was, and still is, just Hope.

You’re not losing anyone.

You’re still all you.

And marrying your one makes these massive moments feel so natural and intimate. I always thought seeing a man down on one knee, asking me to marry him, would feel so, so weird. There’s no way that could actually feel like my life, right? Too surreal. But when I saw my Clayton’s face looking up at me, I felt so present, so aware, so normal. It was such an easy “absolutely!” It was him. That’s it. I was sobbing and squealing and jumping up and down but inside, it felt totally real. It doesn’t feel like another person’s life I’m living. It doesn’t feel like a stage I’m reaching prematurely. It feels like my life merging with a soul so similar to my own I actually just became not less, but so much more, Hope.

[letsgrowhope]

Dessert first

Does life seem very long or very short

My best friend in college asked me that

And I'll never forget

How quickly I blurted

So long

As if I couldn't stand it

Golly it's hard being a 20 something huh

Where the seasons feel like ages

Adolescence feels like an old stranger

Little ole you is another person

You almost forget

And future you is someone

You’re afraid you’ll meet and be disappointed with

I mean honestly just stop and think of the swarms of people and places and names and things packed into the meager years you've already lived and it seems as if decades more of this make for one chock full life so incredibly big you couldn't possibly digest the half of it (phewf)

You see

Life is very, very long

I concluded

So long you can play all sorts of different lives inbetween it

But then today

Well, life seemed very short

All of a sudden

And I haven't a clue how it happened

Sure I figured I'd wake up one day and realize it

I just thought I'd be 80 something at the youngest

Rockin on the back porch watchin my grandkids

It seemed that would be the first time I'd actually feel it

That life was short

Only when I was at the end of it

But today I'm just 23 and 8 months

And the flip flop came outta the blue and decided to happen

What if life is so very short?

What if being patient is just a waste of it?

We make all of these decisions in life based on a timeline we have ingrained in our heads  

A timeline we picked up from other people

That we use to decide what is normal, what is best, based on a lifetime that might not even happen

How many of our decisions are made for our future

This choice is wisest

Because it's getting me towards what I want later

This choice is smartest

Because that's how it worked for so and so

"Be patient", "just stick with it", "give it time!" they say as if time is a perpetual commodity to horse around with

"Do something your future self will thank you for" is the one I wanna throw through a window

At what point do you stop making decisions for your future

And make decisions for what you want right now

Because that is genuinely the only life we actually have

The right now

I'm sounding like a child.

I am sounding like an absolute C H I L D !

This is what college kids do

Stupid, spontaneous decisions that bring instant gratification but loads of messy repercussions

I'm much smarter than this

I've actually operated my entire life on the notion of sacrifice now for a better future

And have indeed benefited

But to what extent?

How do you know when you're making a wise decision by being patient

By working through the angst of stagnation

Or when you should be making a decision

To just follow the wildest path you can come up with

Based on an unknown whim

That doesn't lead to any sense of future success or security

But rather enraptures you with the present moment

Why does that concept sound so foolish to say aloud

If we knew what our timelines actually looked like

Would we be so set to always stay and wait it all out?

Let's not save the best for last

Let's dive into dessert right now

[letsgrowhope]

Escape

This is true joy in life, the being used up for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.

— George Bernard Shaw

It’s selfish, really, how much I miss these faces. There is nothing like being absorbed into a foreign world to release you from your suddenly minuscule woes. I question my authenticity in doing good, considering how easily it can be used as an escape mechanism. A chance to finally turn off my own ever racing thoughts and feelings. Annoying how quickly I can turn even doing good into being about freakin me. 

I never wrote about my time in Thailand & India because it was such an enormous chunk to process. It was my first work trip with GI Inc. and a much anticipated documentary project. I entered fully aware that the topic of human trafficking was not going to be a happy go lucky humanitarian experience and duly nervous of the facades about to be shattered. I knew I’d come home with a picture of me surrounded by dozens of adorable foreign kids to match everyone else’s latest mission’s trip. I knew I’d post pictures of faces and scenery that would make everyone wish they were traveling like me. But I also knew I’d be hot and sweaty and using squatting toilets. I knew I’d be physically and mentally exhausted and feel disconnected and lonely. I knew I’d be entering brothels and seeing girls younger than me being literally sold into slavery. I knew I was going to be bombarded with new experiences, I just didn’t know how I would handle it.

I thought a lot about my feelings before going into the trip.

How am I going to feel? What am I going to learn from this? How am I going to process this?

Until I was smack dab in the middle of it and thought, honey child, your feelings literally have nothing to do with this. Actually, they’re the last thing on anyone’s mind right now- and there is nothing more freeing than that.

It’s like putting icy hot on a sore muscle and you feel the pain magically evaporate. When you’re finally in an environment so overwhelming that it outweighs your own concerns, the pressure is suddenly released, and you’re free. To be released from your own mind, only then do you realize how confining it has been.

It was a sharp slap in the face to realize how much of my day is spent configuring my own life story. How much mental capacity is spent weighing pro’s and con’s, debating minuscule decisions that I believe will ultimate determine my happiness. It’s exhausting and as much as I’m addicted to it, I’m just over it. 

And for those few weeks, well, I just didn’t have to think about it. It’s not because I’m sweet and selfless (lord knows) it’s just because I was thrown into the deep end and didn’t have enough emotional capacity left. I didn’t have space to think about my feelings and the result was I’ve never felt so entirely free.

[letsgrowhope]

Act Two: Stay

I make my bed every morning and have a neatly folded sock and underwear drawer. I never leave my clothes on the floor and have matching velvet hangers lined in a color coordinated row. 

So looking back on what I've written over the past two years and seeing such massive, sporadic gaps gives me a mega anxiety attack. There have been numerous, monumental moments left undocumented and I'm scared they're all going to circle around the baggage claim, a pile of messy, untagged luggage.

It's the clunky grey snow that gets scraped to the side of the road but stays frozen and ugly for weeks because it's all piled up in a place nobody crosses. It doesn't hinder traffic, but gosh darnit, it's a terrible eyesore.

For someone so tidy and organized, I feel like I've tumbled into 2016. The road is sunny and clear but the mounds of cleared snow are piled on every corner and I wonder if they're supposed to melt over time or if I'm supposed to go at them on my own. They're messing up my view and are ugly reminders of roads that were dangerous and blocked before. I want them gone. I'm young, simple, idealistic- I don't have baggage! But the layers are frozen solid and I wonder if I'm just exhausting myself trying to get rid of them. They'll melt eventually, they don't seem to preventing a straight course, so just let them go. The sun's coming out, give it time, and they'll melt away without you. You don't have to fix them yourself.

But gosh darn it, I want life to be tidy and I want it tidy now!

I'm finding I am anything but tidy.

As much introspection as I've done, as much soul searching and experimentation, I'm just as incapable of making decisions for my own happiness than I was before. I thought I was so good at going after what I wanted until I realized that it's not what I thought I had decided. Just 6 months in Nashville has shown me the unpredictable can be one hundred times more fantastical than even my most idealistic dreams. 

Someone asked me what my "word" is for 2016- it was 2 days in and I wanted to slug em. I'm usually the girl that spends the entire month of December making dream boards and listing vision statements for the fresh start of the January. I get such a thrill out of setting goals and intentions. So when I found myself moody and conflicted by just the 2nd day of my fresh and tidy New Year, I wanted to crawl under the covers and smack a reset button. I have no idea what my word is! I wanted to scream. All my life I've known what I've wanted, I always have a dream I'm after. But the past few months have turned my expectations upside down and shaken me into happiness and fulfillment in some areas of my life that I never could have planned, so I've decided to shut up and let it just happen for everything else. 

I seem less stable and messier than before but hopeful the mess is from breaking down the facade of idealism and perfectionism I've been basing my stories on. Problem with these stories is I just keep writing Act One over and over again.

There's a phrase in barre class they use every time you're in a difficult exercise. You feel like you've reached your limit and your legs are quivering and your mind says we are so over this and that's when the instructor says "embrace the shake" because it's where your body really changes. It's not comfy, and it's certainly not pretty, but it's where you gain the most strength. I learned the same lesson in yoga class, "a pose doesn't begin until you want to leave it". 

Embrace the Shake.

That's my intention for 2016.

Don't slide out the back door. Face the uncomfy wiggle and jiggles because there's something on the other side you've never waited long enough to know. 24 days in, and I'm achy from holding this pose. I had no idea how deeply ingrained running away has become for me until I began forcing myself to embrace uncomfortability. I don't just emotionally withdraw, no, like sometimes I physically run away to other countries. I feel misunderstood, unknown, disconnected, it’s just not sitting right- so I bolt. I can take care of me. I know how to make me pretty happy. So I'll just start another Act One because trust me I have a million and one ideas for a new story and it's easier than dealing with you HUMANS (I know, I’m the worst). 

Welp, for the first time, I'm starting into Act Two, and the title is Stay. Just long enough to see what happens. The problem with Stay-ing is there's no right way to do it. I feel like I'm doing it all wrong. Just Stay? What does that even mean? What am I supposed to do? Oh no, I must be doing this wrong. I'm messing it up I know it! Just leave me alone, let me go, and I'll fix it!

Act One was much easier. You just set the story elements, whatever you want, you choose it and take distinct actions to get the ball rolling. But letting the plot unfold is unpredictable and out of my control. The actions stem from Act One, revealing it's instability, and producing repercussions from choices made earlier which is extremely daunting. It will reveal the flaws in my setting. Will someone just tell me if I'm doing this right!? I think I've messed it up already. Oh no, this is all wrong, please just let me restart.

Nope, nope & nope. Every good plot requires conflict, so eradicating that element is just a formula for one hella lame story. 

Embrace the shake. It actually may not last as long as you think. And the possibility of breakthrough is tantalizing. 

What if, 

instead of running away

You decided 

To just Stay.

[letsgrowhope]

You know, I’m actually very good at telling people when I’m unhappy

It is very easy for me to call a friend or write to vent about some funky, weepy mood I’ve been in or moan about all the things in life that haven’t happened yet. I’m very good at questioning the purpose of anything I’m doing, to pull the rug out from under things that the world says are supposed to be fulfilling.

I’m just very good at expressing dissatisfaction with life.

So when it becomes plagued by goodness, I don’t quite know what to do with it

It’s a lot more difficult to tell people you’re happy than that you’re sad.

(Cue phone dial) Exhibit A: “I don’t know, life just seems so blah and I don’t understand the purpose of it all. Want to move to Oregon with me and live on a farm and we’ll raise a family of kittens and spend all of our days watching sunsets while eating peaches on porches?” (this leads to a conversation of hopeless romanticism where both parties are able to express their full frustration with the universe and float it away on an idealized future neither one of them is actually planning on committing to create)

Compare to: “I’m actually really happy with my life right now. I wake up every morning pumped, I don’t even care what time I get home from work and feel energized, purposeful, and fulfilled in my relationships. I’m good!” (crickets, crickets)

Ok, so the awkward silence is probably in my head, but saying those words I AM HAPPY to someone is just really uncomfortable. It leads to lots of “oh, I’m so happy for you”’s but where do you go from there? Mutual complaint gives way to joint scheming a route out of your misery, while happiness feels stagnant, with no problem to solve and I’m left here trying to gauge if you’re interested in hearing more about my said happiness or if you’re already bored with it?

Not to mention the impossibility of saying “I’m happy” without feeling like you’re immediately that annoying one bragging. Plus, my heightened superstitious mind feels like the second I acknowledge something good that has happened to me is the second I’ve jinxed it and it will be ripped away.

Ah, maybe we’ve found the crux of the matter. The difficulty with sharing happiness is we’re afraid fully acknowledging it will get it taken away.

Because ultimately, we do not believe we are worthy, of receiving happiness

When good things start pouring into my life the first thing I do is question it. Why is this happening? What did I do to deserve it? This is probably too good to be true. Don’t get your hopes up!

And I’m gonna be honest, 9 outta 10 it has been too good to be true. Alright, that may be an exaggeration, but those are the stats in my head. Which is probably what’s wrong with it. Growing jaded is the demise of a hopeless romantic but hard to thwart when disappointment is felt at such a personal level. Always believing the best is yet to come, that delightful surprises are around the corner, that your fairytale is just one bump into a stranger away, is adorable. But also not sustainable. The world is going to teach you to grow up, be less vulnerable, and assume the worst, cause life isn’t all butterflies and gumdrops.

Which is a terribly boring way to exist, but nonchalance is oh so veryyy cool baby, get with it.

Blah blah blah.

I’m happy. And ya better believe I don’t deserve it It’s not because I did anything great, it’s not because I unlocked a magic trick or found the best way to pray. It’s not because I’ve been kinder to strangers or because I’ve taken more time to journal or write down my life wish list for the next 10 years

I’m not being humble when I say I don’t deserve any of it It’s actually very selfish To discount the grace of God because I don’t feel like I have properly earned it

Cause guess what, shugah- it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with Him

He makes you worthy

And your shit ain’t gonna stop Him

Nonchalance is a safety precaution from disappointment But robs you from belting out thankfulness to the Divine which is the gateway to pure joy and fulfillment

I’m scared to say it, but I’m really happy. 

And I’m not going to apologize for it, because that would be taking way too much credit.

[letsgrowhope]

What I’ve Learned Since Graduation

That was the least cute title I could come up with. Because this list isn’t meant to be clever, it’s actually a genuine compilation of lessons that have grown out of the past 2 years since graduation. A lot has happened since then: I’ve lived in both LA and London, worked on 5 TV shows between Warner Bro’s and CBS studios, earned a yoga teaching certification, traveled to 8 new counties...(with a lot of friendship and relationship love & drama squished in-between there)

With several friends graduating this weekend, I started thinking about what I could share with them.

DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to be wise and all-knowing simply because I’ve managed 24 months outside of college. These are just the main lessons I’ve learned, and would like to have told my graduating self

1. Love does not come through one stream (aka being in a relationship alert! alert! a boyfriend will not fix you!). Learn how to absorb love from the countless sources going untapped around you (old friends, new friends, coworkers, mentors, family, nature, kid that smiles at you on the train, person you make eye contact with in traffic and you see them as a real human being for a split second, dog chillin out letting you pet him while he waits for his human, the lady at the checkout counter) YOU ARE LOVED IT IS ALL AROUND YOU (so no pity parties allowed). You don't suck love through a straw, you absorb it through a bajillion sponges. Identify them, utilize them, THANK them (karma people, it's just an equation- what you put in you get out. no guru jargon needed)

2. Don't freak out when some friends (ok a lot) don't make it through your transitions. Honor and love who they were for you in that season and move on, because only a few gems will be able to survive the countless changes and moves you're about to undergo and trying to force old friendships to remain the same isn't loving them, it's you controlling them and trying to latch onto things in your increasingly transient existence. Don't be scared of letting people go. It doesn't mean anything bad happened.

3. Graduation is not the final "big change". It's the catalyst in a chain reaction of many (or at least it should be) so get used to saying hello & goodbye. You don't just pick 1 thing and stick with it for the next 40 years, cause you probably don't know what you want right now. College can't possibly teach you that. That's life's job

4. Which brings up a general rule of thumb for making decisions that will change your life direction: NOT is this right or wrong? is this what I want to do forever? NOPE: rule is, does it scare you. If it does, say yes: because that means it moves you, it means it makes you excited (you've gotta stoke any passion you have at the moment cause it's the first thing you start losing with age- and it's worse than getting wrinkles). If it scares you it means it's a new experience which is the prime currency in your 20s. New experiences are the ultimate environment for learning in life. Don't make decisions for security, make decisions for growing

5. Be your own best friend. Cliche as hell but the most magical journey so don't shame it. Take yourself out for treats. Ask yourself how you're doin. Give yourself all of the love and respect you could ever ask for from someone else. Even if that means writing yourself love notes and hiding them in your suitcase to uncover later. Even if that means buying yourself flowers. Even if that means looking in the mirror and saying hey I'm mega proud of you, for real. Even if that looks like taking yourself to Paris. Even if that means saying no to that party because deep down you know you'd really be happier snuggled in bed with macarons and a French film because babe you need to...

6. STOP GIVING A SHIT ABOUT WHAT PEOPLE THINK. Not in a rude, inconsiderate way. But considering how YOU feel about a decision rather than what every one else and their MOM's opinion is (but seriously, I would ask people’s moms). Because 1) if you're not happy, nobody around you is and 2) nobody else actually cares. While that sounds terrible, it's nothing personal. People will express their opinions, but you’ll find that they can change on a dime and it's definitely not keeping them up at night. You're the one that has to live your life so if deep down you know you feel unfulfilled in the career you're pursuing or you feel like you just need to up and move and try something new LISTEN TO YOU. Cause you know you. Although you'll be surprised how few people even know how to hear themselves...so start practicing that. Before you call your mom, and top 5 best friends asking them what you should eat for lunch, or if you should go to this party, or what you should say in response to that cute boy’s last text, or what your dream job is: just pause and ask yourself. Learn how to trust yourself. Baby steps.

7. Trust the process. Don't think too many steps ahead. Find the balance between planning life and going with the flow. Make a decision if you can, but if it's out of your control, LET IT GO. Promise yourself that whatever happens to you will be the best decision. Whatever you do, make THAT the best. Means there are no wrong moves. You're golden.

You ARE golden. You are brilliant. You are a human being capable of the most incredible functions- the greatest being love & empathy. You are entirely capable of creating a new life, and that happens by taking leaps of faith one after the other and watching life form around you because of it. Do not shrink back. You are equipped to handle far more than you think. It only gets more difficult as you get older, so learn now, how to just GO FOR IT. You won't fail, you can’t. Because if you learn and grow from it, it was successful. It's a get out of jail free card. No dream is off-limits.

***Sequel’s to come, featuring... “Nobody’s gonna love you more if you lose those 5 lbs”, “He who cares less does NOT in fact win”, and “Their life isn’t perfect either, I promise”

xx

[letsgrowhope]

notes from my phone

I sat at the front of the bus and the rows behind were stacked up like a stage. So I imagined each face and how it must have been chosen for the story it would emanate. As if each human on that bus went through casting before boarding. Extras are supposed to blend into the background, that's how you choose them. You don't choose anyone that will steal the spotlight. Which is tricky cause actors love nothing more than a spotlight (eye roll, bless them). And well, extras are still actors at heart which means they end up looking a little too interesting while attempting to be generic. It's hard to blend in when you're in actor, it's just counterintuitive. Same goes if you look close enough at humanity, I find it's all just the same. The faces get all blurred together, but if you pause, you might catch em: when the extras lose their cover. It's this split second where you see a stranger for a person, where they're not just another body but they maybe snort when they laugh or talk to their kid in a goofy voice and you're like oh shoot, that's a real live human! It's when the facade breaks and you realize each person around you is a lead actor, in some story or another, even in a world that's trying to force us all into being boring ole congenial extras. Next time you're on the bus and you feel like that's happening, just start singing nursery rhymes and see who joins in, they're typically the star actor type, and I want a world with more of em.

[letsgrowhope]

All the 'not readies,' all the 'I need time,' are understandable, but only for a short while. The truth is that there is never a 'completely ready,' there is never a really 'right time.' As with any descent to the unconscious, there comes a time when one simply hopes for the best, pinches one's nose, and jumps into the abyss. If this were not so, we would not have needed to create the words heroine, hero, or courage.

WOMEN WHO RUN WITH WOLVES

[letsgrowhope]

He asked me what my “thing” was.

He: cheeky, kinky, blond, consumed by his own, singular cause. A sole mission able to swallow any indecision. He clearly had his “thing”, he was a musician.

Damn musicians, always trip me up with their musty air of egotistical seduction. Or maybe I’m just envious. I’ve always wanted to have my “thing”. Just one “thing” to encapsulate my existence, and musicians have it the easiest. They never seem to think about anything else. They never question if they were meant to do something different. Every musician (I’ve fallen for) knows that they are supposed to be just that, a musician.

I’ve never known what I’m supposed to be. I’ve never been just one thing

I was the 9 year-old who would watch a Disney movie of misfits-made-sports-stars and spend the next 2 weeks practicing layups on the backyard basketball court because I thought well, maybe I could make this my “thing”. I distinctly remember thinking to myself, mid-layup: shoot girl, if you do enough of these, you could like, actually be the next Lisa Leslie.

I genuinely believed that stuff. I had absolutely no doubt in my mind. It was my strongest conviction as a child: If you want something bad enough, you’ll get it. It’s just a matter of setting your sights on it and never quitting.

My problem was the quitting. Because 2 weeks later, after watching the movie of misfits-made-rock-stars, the basketball retired and I’d be writing songs in my hot pink and neon green, splatter-painted bedroom, storyboarding music videos to go with it.

I knew I was quitting though, and it didn’t bother me, because I figured that meant I didn’t want it bad enough in the first place. There was always something new I wanted to try anyway. A kids claymation TV show I wanted to produce. A dance piece I wanted to choreograph. A fashion line I wanted to draw up.

There were some things I didn’t quit though. There were some great things actually brought to fruition through this raw reliance on the power of intention (I convinced my parents to buy me a puppy for starters, real live miracle), but that didn’t seem to phase my juvenile conviction. Whether the original intent was achieved or not, the rule remained the same: If you want something bad enough, you’ll make it happen. It’s just a matter of how much you really want it.

When I was 11 years old, my best friend and I thought we could raise $5,000 to build a community center in India. We were going to do this by selling scarves we hand crocheted. If we just crocheted long enough, and sold hard enough, we’d make that $5,000, eventually. Just like the layups, it was simple logic. And while older me sees that the world doesn’t always work out so easily, I’ve also seen that the universe rewards the unabashed.

We raised $20,000 for India, 1 year and 100 some-odd, hand crocheted scarves later. 

If you want something bad enough, you’ll make it happen.

High school, college, post grad: the belief in the rule remained the same. But chiseling away an intention was what proved harder. The older you get, the greater singularity society expects. It’s ok to have 8 restaurant ideas and 12 career options as a kid, but by the time you graduate you should have 1 job you’re after. ONE!? Your dream job. Your “thing” I didn’t have one, but I made one up, because I like having something to work after. My dream job was to work in the Hollywood industry, and 1 year later I was working at CBS Television Studios.

If you want something bad enough, you’ll make it happen.

The problem for me is never the rule. I still believe it, more than anything. What has failed me is not the ability to accomplish, but the not knowing what I should accomplish. I feel like I’m still practicing layups in the back yard. I really didn’t want to be Lisa Leslie that bad. Turns out, I didn’t want to be a television producer that badly either.

I worked on 5 different TV shows between CBS and Warner Brothers and that was enough time for me to figure out that Hollywood wasn’t my thing. I didn’t quit because the hours were too long or because the journey from the bottom to the top was too far. I left because I knew I didn’t want it bad enough. And the rule never works out if you don’t really want it.

What do you want though? I’ve spent the past year trying to map that out. Trying to pin down my “thing” and I haven’t nailed it yet. But after my short-lived career in TV, I know better than to fake it. I thought maybe if I just decided to make something my “thing”, my heart would adopt it. Accomplishment isn’t a satisfying substitute for true desire, though. 

I want to have a clear cut goal so badly though that I still catch myself trying to pigeon hole a new idea into passion. Ah ha, THIS must be my calling! Don’t you see how much I love it? This is the ONE. Yoga instructor, doula, hypnotherapist, child specialist, occupational therapist...I start spinning into dream land, because I just want something to put the rule to work on. I want something to go after. My mind has begun pulling the reigns though asking: hey girl, wanna make sure this is really your “thing” before we plunge in again, head first?

I wish it was that simple! I wish it was just a matter of taking a step back, slowing down and analyzing your options. I wish making a list of strengths and weaknesses, ideal work cultures and dream titles brought you closer to finding your “thing”. But 1 year later and I feel further from one solid answer, seeing as I only have 3 times as many options as when I began. Increasing freedom does not help in the ‘finding your thing’ department.

Unless, your “thing” is not having a “thing” Cause well, my “thing” will never be to become a director, athlete, doctor, or lawyer. My “thing” won’t even be satisfied by journalist, hotel critic, fashion blogger or fro-yo shop owner, and I thought those sounded pretty good. My “thing” is never going to be one “thing” which is why finding it has proven rather difficult...

I will never have the certainty in ambition of a musician, dammit.

So when cheeky, svelte, musician boy asked me my “thing”, I knew I didn’t have one but suddenly blurted it out. And it resonated so deeply inside myself as if I’d actually thought it out. It suddenly explained all my cravings, my wandering nature, my need for wonder, for new landscapes. My “what if’s”, my inability to settle, my idealistic ambition, my need to discover. It explained my growing fear that expectations will never be met, that perhaps my “thing” makes me a bit too far fetched...

“My ‘thing’ is fairytales,” I answered. & I’m obsessed with writing in new plot twists, but never the endings.

do it all for your story x x x

[letsgrowhope]

just a glimpse at our weekend adventure in Morocco: from Marrkech to the gate of the Sahara in Ouarzazate [can’t stop, won’t stop, traveling]

[letsgrowhope]

I’m really tired of making new homes Even if I am damn good at it (sly emoji smirk + peace symbol) I’m so tired of missing things while simultaneously needing to create new things I’m tired of strategizing, always having to prepare for the next thing I just want something to hold me down and say you can’t leave This time I want be told to stay Forced to Take my freedom If it will take away my uncertainty

I’m preparing for another move & this time it’s actually involuntary While I might be able to return (pleasepleaseplease) I might have to start over once again & this time the decision is not in my hands Was it ever?

What do you want What do you want to do What do you want to call home I don’t know I just want it to want me too

I loved Los Angeles, with all of my heart California was my dream and I made it But not even that was enough I love London, with all of my heart Comfort & love coupled with freedom & opportunity make it the ideal incubator for still ever so young me But now I may be made to leave

Still so damn young Still too damn young To worry that nothing has stuck quite yet To worry that I’ll be a flotsam floating for eternity

There is currently not one consistency in my entire living Not one tie to hold down Except for me Me is the only same thing And Me is so the same I mean more same than I ever thought Me could be Hope is unchanged Just as idealistic and intent as ever Which is a relentless slave driver You can’t just settle When you always believe There’s something just around that (river)bend (Pocahontas, girl gets it)

I am so, so thankful For the diversity of experience The broad canvas of life I’ve been living because of this Having no ties is a luxury most days Just today, this morning I’m feeling it

I think subconsciously my body is anticipating another big change & I’m recognizing the involuntary symptoms We’re bunkering down and preparing Internally & you don’t even realize what you’re doing Until you wake up in the sun on a Sunday morning and I can feel Virginia breeze but smell Los Angeles grapefruit and am clinging to the hidden comfort that is presently my duvet in London- that’s when you just feel like cryin about it, the blend of painfully blissful nostalgia coupled with anxious hopes & dreams all floating around this love for the present moment, never wanting to leave. I don’t want London to turn into a place of nostalgia, the next home I’ll look back on & be missing. But, eventually, it will. Everything, will, won’t it?

I’m a lil scared & I’m a lil nervous & I’m a lil bit in denial Cause I don’t want to admit That no matter how many times you do it No matter how effortless you seem to make it Transitions are still kinda sorta even for me real, real tricky

and now I feel so silly for even worrying about all of this. I'm not leaving tomorrow or anything. get outta bed and just go live it x x x

[letsgrowhope]

so many people, places, things

this is hope, ever growing

[letsgrowhope]

bonjourno, Italie & arrivederci, Winter! 

[letsgrowhope]

our need for certainty has sabotaged our intuition

the opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty

'God, grant me serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference'

[letsgrowhope]

It was also what the French wisely call a certain je ne sais quoi ("I don't know what") that came across in between the lines of good dialogue. It was the speech of her heart and the inflection of pure intentions.

Sean Hepburn Ferrer

[letsgrowhope]

Espoir in Paris