'much maddness is divinest sense' emily d
Monday, October 24, 2011
Sea LEGS, Eli's kiss, sharks and the key to never giving up.
a few years ago, i packed up my VW BUG, left a job in fashion, a life in boston and drove. i left in the middle of the night, shortly after my 28th birthday. My father Henry, the man the mark the mission, got up in the middle of the night and decided he would be the man to take me through the night past NYC to VA beach. HE did. My VW lost the front end somewhere in Maryland so we simply DUCKtaped it and then someplace in the Bronx the bug let us know, if we shut it off it wouldn't keep going. BUT i had my map, and I sure as anything was going south. I was thinking maybe I'd end up in Savie, GA and have a little white house with a porch and I would write about all the things i saw and all the things i imagined and then even sometimes i would play around with the idea of Hilton head, and getting my speed-boat, moonshine and Great Gatsby mantra really rolling. Maybe starting and under the table poker night, that would lead to the import export of moonshine... i would ride speed boats, smoke Cubans and wear fancy fedoras and pin-stripes.
somewhere in-between the white southern dress, the ice tea, the southern charm, the broken bug, the excitement of something different and speedboats, i was off on a new adventure.
some other time, i will talk to you about VA beach. the training and truth i received there. not today.
when i got to Florida. a few romances and a few nights under the stars driving a golf cart from party to party on a secluded beach. i could never run for politics due to this little stint, but you know, it works out. politics are over rated.
the time came. when i went out with the big boys. on the boat. fishing for the marlin. this was some redneck, hill-billie-past the gators out into the deep fishing. this was not typical. i was on a little boat. no one was baiting my hook and there sure as anything was no, put on your sunblock and drink water going on here. i mean, i think i may of drank whiskey and dipped before noon just to prove, that a female yank could go out with the BIG boys and hold her own.
i was SO SICK after twenty minutes. i went into the small bathroom and everything was upside down. the whole universe was spinning. i kept puking and swallowing it back. this was NOT the first time i was on the ocean, BUT on a boat this small. they kept yelling, you're getting your sea legs. between the puke i would yell " i sure am" the side of the boat only came up to my mid thigh-stomach region and i am only 5'2. it's my personality that gives me the height. i was used to the deep sea fishing off the east coast, on the HUGE boats. not this.
i cast my line. into the deep. it was marlin hunting time and i was with the BIG BOYS.
they kept calling 'em something, but i knew marlin.
the thing i caught on my first drop was stronger than me. he whipped me across the boat into the rail so hard that i threw up when it hit my stomach/ribs. i swallowed most back and let some just go, it was a pain i had never known before, and i had known pain. i knew the bruises would be much. i was being pulled fast and having it being broken on my own body to stop me. try that a few times and you may not think you are so tough.
i caught 8 marlin in under two hours. the sea was so bad because a tropical storm was moving towards us. it was the hardest water they had ever fished on and i was the lucky cast.
every marlin, destroyed me. things ripped and pulled. i got yanked across that boat so many times, that the BOYS starting to cheer every time i hit the rail. When i got off that boat, i couldn't hear from the impact and the ocean's power right before a storm, i couldn't walk and i couldn't breathe. i felt like i went 12 rounds and then got beat thru the middle body region.
the next morning, i had the day to learn to surf. it was going to be the only time i could. i was so bruised and beaten from the fishing, that i went to bed almost immediately. i woke up very early to surf, was in the six am hour. i met my teacher and he looked at my bruises and said "are you bleeding anywhere, the sharks are out."
oddly enough, i was so tired, i just said 'don't think so'
it didn't even register that the sharks are out. i will tell you when that registered, when i was paddling out and that quiet hit me for the first time that i was just a body on a board in a BIG OCEAN. that i was just a small person, in the vast blue. that paddling out was harder than that catching marlin' and that the thought of dropping in and standing is ridiculous right now. then he of course handed me a rag... i was like, what will this do? he said "if a shark attacks he is attacking because he thinks you are a seal and once he bites you HE will leave, because you won't be fatty enough. so he will just maul you. you can wrap yourself if you get hammied" then he said the sharks don't really look like sharks out here. my mind had already melted, so you can imagine i embraced the conversation and i paddled right next to my teacher. i wanted to be near someone if this was really what he was saying. at that moment i decided this paddling out and waiting on the board was not really my style and that i would GET UP faster than anyone in the history of surf lessons. stuff was too raw. there was a storm, sharks looked different and i was wrecked from the fishing with the big boys.
who wouldn't? at this point, i better listen to this person, seems like he knew alot more than i did. i was out where the GULF meets the OCEAN right on the cuff of a storm before 7 am on an obscure week day because it was my season to learn to surf...
I fell over 30 times. I got knocked down every single wave i tried to paddle over for 3 hours. it was not until the 4th hour, i begin to get the paddling down... by the 6th hour i was dropping in and on the 7th hour i stood for the first time.
when we came in after i stood. i walked across the sand. Eli ran to me. i was so tired i couldn't stand, so i squatted into the sand and his kiss was so glorious at that moment. it was that moment where i worked so hard and i had got it.
I think the character of a man, is really shown when their pot is boiled over. When then are hard pressed on every side. Who they show you, when the sharks are there. When they are getting hit so hard by life, they are puking and holding it down. When they have to continually fall down and keep getting up, not because they have too, because they want too. Because Courage is with them.
It's not how the man falls, it is how he gets back up. They key to not giving up is not in the fall, it's in the rise after the fall.
had i not gotten back on the surf board, had i not gotten my sea legs, when the storms of life hit, like that storm, and the sharks THAT are always swimming while we are paddling, i never would of learned the BEST cast and how to ground my legs and how to drop in and ride a wild wave in the midst of it all.
Friday, October 21, 2011
a constant rant...
grief. i hate you but i am forced to embrace you.
i get really quiet. and i realize the shortness of this life.
the sky is so blue and
my heart is SO broken.
how the heck do you stay healthy during these times?
i read every book i can get my paws on.
i work out everyday.
i pray.
i do yoga.
i am madly in love with my girfriends.
my cup is full, most of the time.
but sometimes i throw it to the ground and you know what i don't care.
maybe if i had made other choices, followed my "wild" adventures, had babies, got married and could somehow disconnect to my mom, then... i wouldn't be who i am today.
someone needs to write a book on losing a mom. i mean there is no instruction manual for this one.
maybe i loved her too much. maybe that's what people think. i don't really care, i'd rather love too much then love to little. loving to little is mundane.
i didn't know the person that built me would suffer until death.
i want to be one of those people who stuffs there emotions sometimes. i have emeresed myself in hot yoga and then in B.E.S.T. holistic medicine, grief groups, support systems...etc. and i think it's all well and good that i am "strong" and "healthy" but you know what, i want my mom to not suffer and that overwhelms me.
all joking aside i have old yella' flashes every morning. put'em down. make it stop. give her peace.
she has not said one thing about her suffering which melts my mind.
how precious it is to see such dignity.
i get really quiet. and i realize the shortness of this life.
the sky is so blue and
my heart is SO broken.
how the heck do you stay healthy during these times?
i read every book i can get my paws on.
i work out everyday.
i pray.
i do yoga.
i am madly in love with my girfriends.
my cup is full, most of the time.
but sometimes i throw it to the ground and you know what i don't care.
maybe if i had made other choices, followed my "wild" adventures, had babies, got married and could somehow disconnect to my mom, then... i wouldn't be who i am today.
someone needs to write a book on losing a mom. i mean there is no instruction manual for this one.
maybe i loved her too much. maybe that's what people think. i don't really care, i'd rather love too much then love to little. loving to little is mundane.
i didn't know the person that built me would suffer until death.
i want to be one of those people who stuffs there emotions sometimes. i have emeresed myself in hot yoga and then in B.E.S.T. holistic medicine, grief groups, support systems...etc. and i think it's all well and good that i am "strong" and "healthy" but you know what, i want my mom to not suffer and that overwhelms me.
all joking aside i have old yella' flashes every morning. put'em down. make it stop. give her peace.
she has not said one thing about her suffering which melts my mind.
how precious it is to see such dignity.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Puppies in Windows and Deep forgiveness.
i am having a hard time dressing myself today, but hot damn my heart is exploding with a new hope. my pants fell down a couple times. i didNOT realize all this cycling would shred it like it has. i woke up this morning, and wowza... crack the shutters, snow patrol was and is the only descriptor on how i woke up. forgiveness will do this.
i woke up and felt, a solid 20 pounds lighter on the inside. i sprung out of bed with a sleepy face, made the coffee and negoitated with eli, on the hour it was and how he should arise and face the glory of the morning. i tried to convince him to take a jog, but it was before 7 am and i think he thought i had a nerve for attempting this. i stopped. i thought about all the places my heart went this week. i was somewhere between a vampire, audrey hepburn and a lost little puppy in the window on a snowy Christmas morning, homeless.
i have truly forgiven myself, my mom, the tobacco industry, not so much, but that may never pass.
if you have been following my blog you would know i slammed the daughter wall like a hot mess. in my morning time, today i read this and i will share it with you.
"Forgiveness means letting go of the past."
heck yeah, it does and it feels like a puppy in the window coming home for Christmas.
there is a running joke that i have with my mom. it's that she says this to me "daughters blame their moms for everything, it is always the mother's fault." i ALWAYS say "right, who else is their to blame?" and she belly laughs everytime. it's true.
oh, how good forgiveness is, how beautiful an action... how sweet is a forgiving heart.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Why Wakefield heard my rendie of Adele, someone like you this morn
For the last two days, i have felt like my communication style is that of a fountain that won't flow right. you know the sad ones your try to throw your penny in and you almost can't make a wish because it is so pathetic? like the wish won't count because it's not a real fountain. almost like a lost puppy. every single time i have tried to communicate what is going on...on the inside for the last couple days i have looked alot like that sad little fountain. on sunday, i was quiet after a hot yoga pratice and every fight i ever had with my mom crossed my memory. every mean word, every dirty look, every slammed door, every fight on christmas, every heart ache, every... every single time one of us hung up on one another. every time i got hurt. everytime i hurt her. so this has clearly made me a little wild for the last two days. of course all the questions start. did i break her heart? why did she hurt me?was i a bad daughter? why was i not mature enough to always love her? why did i have to have my teenage years? i wish i could of taken back every single thing that i said, that may of hurt her. why did she hurt me? why did we fight? why? why AM i watching her suffer and all i can do is cry because i might of sucked as a daughter?
i know i didn't. i know we loved each other too much. i know we were just walking thru broken places to get to whole places. i know we were just human. i know all of this, but my heart hurts. i am over here taking off the metaphorical armor and trying to put it back on, and i am trying to protect my mom and protect my heart and make it thru this with a level of decency and grace. i got so mad and humbled by accountability yesterday, because every single mean thing i ever said to my mom flooded my memory. LOOK, i am not focusing on the negative, i am just being honest. EVERY mean thing she said seemed so small, when i looked in the mirror at my own words. regardless i called kim and cried as per usual. called my sister and told her and she of course made an epic comment about letting these walls come down. then of course there was that call i made, there is always that moment. like when sam wise carries frodo to mordor...the part of the journey that was a touch sloppy but what he said was this 'don't protect your mom because she is sick' and at the moment i knew i had a hard conversation ahead of me with my mom.
i got all the answers. what blew me AWAY was the sincere response of my mom. she doesn't even realize how special she is to me. i would give her my LUNGS if it would heal her. i would carry her on my back for the rest of my life, if i could sustain her. i really would.
i was coming down with a cold, my throat was sore. i have been tea' drinkin' for two days. after the conversation, i went to bed. i woke up this morning. my throat felt amazing. like honey covered it. like i spent the day at the beach and just had my first glass of water, after taking a nap on the beach, good.
i got in the shower, and i sang Adele's Someone like you to my MOM. (not a GUY) I knew I had over come. I knew i needed to raise my voice.
i kid you not, i googled, throat chakra healing today. one of my yogi teachers told me to google it on sunday, i never know what these little epic creatures are up too but when they say things to me, i listen. i found the throat chakra snipped above.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
in between a struggling yogi and a grieving daughter, courage was found
This morning, I am wobbling around on a sprained ankle, a coffee lack, and a bit of frustration at the condition of my foot.
I am five mice in, restless due to this mouse invasion in my home and I am making breakfast. THEN it happens: I catch a fly with my bare hand. Thank you small epiphany, I needed you. It brought me back to my journey. To the REAL truth if you discipline yourself, your body, your emotions, your diet, your self-control, your full expression, your free spirit, you can make it to a place that you can find strength. Trust me, this is a hard lesson, but I learned it. On the inside I felt frustrated, overly run down and salty this morning! The noted frustration of not being able to get my hard cardio last night, lack of sleep due to this and the family of mice that have enjoyed my home, making a morning zombie out of me… BUT I remain focused and caught the fly, somewhere inside me it was instinct to zero in. Catching the fly was as easy and natural to me as yawning. This caught my attention. I on the inside just wanted to crawl back into bed… but what… there was some focus in there… who knew? Well, I knew. It was a lesson that drove me to me knees, much this past year.
I sat down at my kitchen table, moved the mouse trap and waited till the tea pot my mother gave me whistled. Just as I was able to catch the fly with my cat like reflexes.... on the outside I had created the cat like reaction, but how did I get to this place? The PLACE where I would be able to move past this sense of being overwhelmed on the inside with an outward expression of discipline. Here we go! A little bit on how I got here, this year.
I have been immersed in hot yoga, since I started grieving very hard the illness of my best friend and mother. To watch this suffering of my mother just hang on for YEARS has driven me face first, down, on my knees into hot yoga. The warmth of the room reminded me of being held, comforted so I was interested in that. Also, the heat was very useful in helping RE-establish a relationship of my lungs and my overall well-being. When I first started during my mom’s recovery to an epic open heart surgery, and battled the everyday that has become her path… late last winter… to lay still to me on a yoga matt drove me MAD. It has recently changed...I literally wanted to stand up and scream are you people BLIND, suffering is all over me. Go screw yourselves, you are all detached!!! ”I refused to lay down and be with myself and the whole time I could not lay still and I could not understand any of these people. I literally thought I may have found my “much madness” in the straight fact I couldn’t lie down for 5 minutes on my back, after an intense CORE work-out. Who the heck after doing such a hard work-out, can’t lie down? None other than me. I am certain this was my angry at death, stage. This balanced, kind well-established-decent woman could not lie on her back. that makes no sense. I had lost a sense of everything being ok and was new to this hot yoga and to this grief, to be honest. I started to find my drive to the yoga studio my time to cry. My place to be vulnerable. Where I could unravel and not have to be “on” all the time. Then I started to find on my yoga matt that I was forced to look at myself and to be honest, my place to weep and ironically fight with myself. I cried through every class for 6 months, every warrior one and warrior two, every arm balance I tried and failed, every downward dog, every push up. Then, as I continuously went every push up, every sit up every warrior two when I wanted to scream, things started to melt. I started to find that I could do anything I set my mind too despite being covered in grief. Love came. Anger melted. Hope stirred. I was standing in a room of 97 degrees doing intense things and not breaking. This re-connected me to courage. I know that I am brave. Then I became brave enough to keep going to yoga. I just needed an outward reminder to be brought inward. Hot yoga did this, and so much more. When I caught the fly, I remembered I learned this. Two weeks ago, I did my first crow. Last week, I did my first side arm balance. I am no longer weeping through my hot yoga practice. This week, I have already cycled 40 miles, to train for a 100 mile bike ride to benefit charity. I just got on a cycle bike this weekend. I tend to be overly ambitous. But I like it that way. I felt inspired to ride a 100 mile ride for charity, for a bucket list, for GLORY, really. GLORY fires me up. Through the practical practice of self discipline you can find a way to be balanced in circumstances that are trying. I think the character of a man is shown, as Martin Luther King said “The ultimate measure of a person is not where they stand in moments of comfort and convenience, but where the stand in times of challenge and controversy.” Isn’t that the truth! So I caught the fly, because the effect of my dedication to stay with it, of not giving up, changed me. I can catch the fly, with a sprained ankle because I learned how to be composed when all my insides were in utter chaos. To me, that’s something I learned in doing this hot yoga and being brave enough and broken enough to stay on the matt.
I am five mice in, restless due to this mouse invasion in my home and I am making breakfast. THEN it happens: I catch a fly with my bare hand. Thank you small epiphany, I needed you. It brought me back to my journey. To the REAL truth if you discipline yourself, your body, your emotions, your diet, your self-control, your full expression, your free spirit, you can make it to a place that you can find strength. Trust me, this is a hard lesson, but I learned it. On the inside I felt frustrated, overly run down and salty this morning! The noted frustration of not being able to get my hard cardio last night, lack of sleep due to this and the family of mice that have enjoyed my home, making a morning zombie out of me… BUT I remain focused and caught the fly, somewhere inside me it was instinct to zero in. Catching the fly was as easy and natural to me as yawning. This caught my attention. I on the inside just wanted to crawl back into bed… but what… there was some focus in there… who knew? Well, I knew. It was a lesson that drove me to me knees, much this past year.
I sat down at my kitchen table, moved the mouse trap and waited till the tea pot my mother gave me whistled. Just as I was able to catch the fly with my cat like reflexes.... on the outside I had created the cat like reaction, but how did I get to this place? The PLACE where I would be able to move past this sense of being overwhelmed on the inside with an outward expression of discipline. Here we go! A little bit on how I got here, this year.
I have been immersed in hot yoga, since I started grieving very hard the illness of my best friend and mother. To watch this suffering of my mother just hang on for YEARS has driven me face first, down, on my knees into hot yoga. The warmth of the room reminded me of being held, comforted so I was interested in that. Also, the heat was very useful in helping RE-establish a relationship of my lungs and my overall well-being. When I first started during my mom’s recovery to an epic open heart surgery, and battled the everyday that has become her path… late last winter… to lay still to me on a yoga matt drove me MAD. It has recently changed...I literally wanted to stand up and scream are you people BLIND, suffering is all over me. Go screw yourselves, you are all detached!!! ”I refused to lay down and be with myself and the whole time I could not lay still and I could not understand any of these people. I literally thought I may have found my “much madness” in the straight fact I couldn’t lie down for 5 minutes on my back, after an intense CORE work-out. Who the heck after doing such a hard work-out, can’t lie down? None other than me. I am certain this was my angry at death, stage. This balanced, kind well-established-decent woman could not lie on her back. that makes no sense. I had lost a sense of everything being ok and was new to this hot yoga and to this grief, to be honest. I started to find my drive to the yoga studio my time to cry. My place to be vulnerable. Where I could unravel and not have to be “on” all the time. Then I started to find on my yoga matt that I was forced to look at myself and to be honest, my place to weep and ironically fight with myself. I cried through every class for 6 months, every warrior one and warrior two, every arm balance I tried and failed, every downward dog, every push up. Then, as I continuously went every push up, every sit up every warrior two when I wanted to scream, things started to melt. I started to find that I could do anything I set my mind too despite being covered in grief. Love came. Anger melted. Hope stirred. I was standing in a room of 97 degrees doing intense things and not breaking. This re-connected me to courage. I know that I am brave. Then I became brave enough to keep going to yoga. I just needed an outward reminder to be brought inward. Hot yoga did this, and so much more. When I caught the fly, I remembered I learned this. Two weeks ago, I did my first crow. Last week, I did my first side arm balance. I am no longer weeping through my hot yoga practice. This week, I have already cycled 40 miles, to train for a 100 mile bike ride to benefit charity. I just got on a cycle bike this weekend. I tend to be overly ambitous. But I like it that way. I felt inspired to ride a 100 mile ride for charity, for a bucket list, for GLORY, really. GLORY fires me up. Through the practical practice of self discipline you can find a way to be balanced in circumstances that are trying. I think the character of a man is shown, as Martin Luther King said “The ultimate measure of a person is not where they stand in moments of comfort and convenience, but where the stand in times of challenge and controversy.” Isn’t that the truth! So I caught the fly, because the effect of my dedication to stay with it, of not giving up, changed me. I can catch the fly, with a sprained ankle because I learned how to be composed when all my insides were in utter chaos. To me, that’s something I learned in doing this hot yoga and being brave enough and broken enough to stay on the matt.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Leaving a legacy- Living a life of legacy
as most of you know- i can get really fired up about things. living a life of leaving a legacy on purpose is one of them. i do believe that we get one life- so we mine as well- kill it on this one- if you don't care about leaving a legacy, just close out now. if you are sick of my epic tales and random rants when i think things are hilarious and you may not- click the x. or when i get deep about my hospital visits with my mom.
What does my legacy look like? asks my mother from her hospital bed. Why we have such moving conversations from the hospital is beyond me but it happens. She tends to like to ask me very deep things that stir me till I am up most of the night.
After this question, i got home from the hospital some time after midnight and went for a little cognac. what does my legacy looks like?
My legacy, I have looked at before.Sketched and lived out?What is my mission statement? Is that a legacy? are they different? what is this, purpose ? . . . or is it what i want to be left behind? IS a legacy living?
I have played with all those questions.
Here is my bottom line (s).
reject and cut the ties of medicocracy in your life.
be free to be who you are.
laugh at your own jokes.
find out who you are and do it on purpose.
take risks,lots of them.
if you fear man, you will never be able to be bold.
if you fail, more than once, you will learn the lessons that are needed to suceed.
let go of trying to figure out who you want to be what you want to do and focus on a simple purpose and misson statement for your life and do it.
don't take yourself to seriously. no one else is. mine is this: my legacy has facets of giving back,dreams,goals, fun activities and so on, helping orphans, making certain things a reality, so on and so forth.
but legacy- SIMPLE Version without all the hits and to-do's my written one is as follows:
live a life of relentless passion, fun, love, adventure,sacrafice and friendship. be of a singularity of mind to reject the ties of mediocracy and seek greatness. love deeply and give freely. be authentic and have a life that testifies to knowing who I am and where I am going and the I am loved, divinely. Go after my dreams and fear not.
*one thing i have found that helps with the fear not- is sitting in dragon pose, and pidegon, (on both legs) for 30-45 minutes straight and freaking out- once a week- usually sundays...will help you face extreme discomfort that will in turn help you get inside your fears, discomfort and all that jazz- and be able to overcome. love God with a wreckless abandon.
you sit in yourself- and face it- you can then move past it.
go and do something about being alive.
maybe even just laugh and appreciate the silly.
Christina
What does my legacy look like? asks my mother from her hospital bed. Why we have such moving conversations from the hospital is beyond me but it happens. She tends to like to ask me very deep things that stir me till I am up most of the night.
After this question, i got home from the hospital some time after midnight and went for a little cognac. what does my legacy looks like?
My legacy, I have looked at before.Sketched and lived out?What is my mission statement? Is that a legacy? are they different? what is this, purpose ? . . . or is it what i want to be left behind? IS a legacy living?
I have played with all those questions.
Here is my bottom line (s).
reject and cut the ties of medicocracy in your life.
be free to be who you are.
laugh at your own jokes.
find out who you are and do it on purpose.
take risks,lots of them.
if you fear man, you will never be able to be bold.
if you fail, more than once, you will learn the lessons that are needed to suceed.
let go of trying to figure out who you want to be what you want to do and focus on a simple purpose and misson statement for your life and do it.
don't take yourself to seriously. no one else is. mine is this: my legacy has facets of giving back,dreams,goals, fun activities and so on, helping orphans, making certain things a reality, so on and so forth.
but legacy- SIMPLE Version without all the hits and to-do's my written one is as follows:
live a life of relentless passion, fun, love, adventure,sacrafice and friendship. be of a singularity of mind to reject the ties of mediocracy and seek greatness. love deeply and give freely. be authentic and have a life that testifies to knowing who I am and where I am going and the I am loved, divinely. Go after my dreams and fear not.
*one thing i have found that helps with the fear not- is sitting in dragon pose, and pidegon, (on both legs) for 30-45 minutes straight and freaking out- once a week- usually sundays...will help you face extreme discomfort that will in turn help you get inside your fears, discomfort and all that jazz- and be able to overcome. love God with a wreckless abandon.
you sit in yourself- and face it- you can then move past it.
go and do something about being alive.
maybe even just laugh and appreciate the silly.
Christina
Thursday, February 24, 2011
birthdate week epiphany, 32.
32. here.i.go.
i woke up with the kind of hangover that should be banned to Mexico. i don't know entirely what got into me and why at 10 o'clock at night i was at my home doing handstands on my head and re-thinking my birth date epiphanies... but i was. i know why i was re-thinking, because one of my best friends, the sweetest woman challenged me to take a huge professional chance... what this looks like.. .yet to be determined but it will look vastly different from what is going down right now.
it's been a hard couple years for me, to be honest, and this is NO knock at all on anything, but last born date my mom was in M.G.H and the one before- the condition was so hard out that my birthday was just a reminder that i was alive. literally.
this born date was like I'm ALIVE so much alive and full of strength and joy that i can and will do yoga poses after taking out a few martinis and a bottle plus of wine and rethink how to kill it professionally and what goals i will nail down and put out for 32. i have stuck to this practice, since i found out about goal setting at 13.. .but the only poor bastards that had to hear about it
my parents
my best friends. . .
now you can hear about, laugh about, even maybe think about some fun for yourselves.
2011. 32. goal one. ride a giraffe in Africa.
more than anything i want to ride a giraffe into the sunset- i would even settle for the sunrise. i actually have a strong desire for this. . . i would ride an ostrich too, same idea, same notion, same dream -area. I actually like the ostrich and hate them at the same time. like i want to punch one in the face and hug it in one motion. not sure what is going on there. the giraffe, the open safari, the sun... this is something I need to figure to do before the year is up.
on a more serious note, my heart has wanted to go to Africa and safari.
i watch the shows.
i try to learn the noises.
for some strange reason i can identify most poisonous snakes (oh there is a story there)
* why i can identify snakes?*
Henry Scarano. one man. one mark. one mission. he was epic like chris carb's name of a dashboard confessional album before dashboard even became dashboard.
if you don't know, now you know. My father- had this how to teach his kids not to have any fear mantra when i was growing up.
VA beach-back country-dirtbike tracks *home of my uncle*my father's brother.
this man is a national-fighter- a marine and taught after the service, the marines, how to fight this was how he landed in norfolk, va. we won't get into the deets...
this is my beloved uncle. a man i spent a summer trying to be like at 29 and a childhood admiring... a man who could crush you with his love, and pick you up with his pinky.
my cousin won all sorts of awards on dirtbikes, big time racer as a kid. so when we would visit the cousins at VA beach we would always hit the tracks. how did we get to the homemade one you ask? ps i couldn't of been past my daddy's hip when i was riding a dirt bike and learning about snakes.
Daddy:" Christina to get to the race track you have to get thru this area."
Christina: "ok, daddy. is there something wrong with this area. the dogs won't go near it."
mind you we were staring at some wood damp area.
Daddy:" do you hear the noise?"
Christina: "yes, daddy, sort of sounds like crickets."
Daddy: " no Christina, those are cottonmouths maybe,(oh the maybe was so REASSURING) cooperheads and rattlesnakes. we aren't in the yard at home anymore, it's different here. just run really fast and be very light on your feet. I will be right next to you."
Christina "ok, daddy, tell me when to go"
so, that may of had something to do with it. you know what else- may of...
this little spring.
Alligator Point, Tallahassee, Florida.
my mother's beloved sister lived here. we would visit often.
Henry the Fish.
Wakula Springs, Florida.
a few words on that one.
this is a place, where you would swim not an arms length away from alligators and jump off what appeared to be the size of a New York City Sky scraper to someone so small.
I spent my summers knowing this place well, I even knew which board was my fav. to jump off of, for the most air.
when you approached the beach the sign said, "no small children or dogs allowed"
so, my parents would take us here, so we could take a swim and we loved it.
I think the Boat tour and the Fish named Henry was the best thing I ever saw.
having a gingerale on a small boat and looking at an alligator swim under the glass paddle boat and being taught it was no big deal- is something i think every child should experience...
why? because when HUGE scary things happen, little 5'3 adults can stand up for what is right, even if it may cost them everything.
after jumping off the high jump:
Christina: " daddy, the water is warm, but something tickles my legs on the way up"
Daddy: "oh, those are just the water snakes"
Christina:" will they bite me?"
Daddy: "no, they won't bother you unless you bother them."
Christina: "it feels like i might be bothering them, they swim up with me."
Daddy: "oh, you would know if one bites you. you would get very sick, fast and do not be afraid, i am right here, i would suck the bad out."
Christina: "like how you suck the bee poison out when i get stung?" (I am allergic to bees)
Daddy: "yes. christina. just like that."
2011. 32. goal two. speak a new language.
i am going to take a class. to learn a new language. i already know what the language is.
details to come on this one...
may you all be covered in love today and find maybe a little adventure... this year too.
xo, christina
i woke up with the kind of hangover that should be banned to Mexico. i don't know entirely what got into me and why at 10 o'clock at night i was at my home doing handstands on my head and re-thinking my birth date epiphanies... but i was. i know why i was re-thinking, because one of my best friends, the sweetest woman challenged me to take a huge professional chance... what this looks like.. .yet to be determined but it will look vastly different from what is going down right now.
it's been a hard couple years for me, to be honest, and this is NO knock at all on anything, but last born date my mom was in M.G.H and the one before- the condition was so hard out that my birthday was just a reminder that i was alive. literally.
this born date was like I'm ALIVE so much alive and full of strength and joy that i can and will do yoga poses after taking out a few martinis and a bottle plus of wine and rethink how to kill it professionally and what goals i will nail down and put out for 32. i have stuck to this practice, since i found out about goal setting at 13.. .but the only poor bastards that had to hear about it
my parents
my best friends. . .
now you can hear about, laugh about, even maybe think about some fun for yourselves.
2011. 32. goal one. ride a giraffe in Africa.
more than anything i want to ride a giraffe into the sunset- i would even settle for the sunrise. i actually have a strong desire for this. . . i would ride an ostrich too, same idea, same notion, same dream -area. I actually like the ostrich and hate them at the same time. like i want to punch one in the face and hug it in one motion. not sure what is going on there. the giraffe, the open safari, the sun... this is something I need to figure to do before the year is up.
on a more serious note, my heart has wanted to go to Africa and safari.
i watch the shows.
i try to learn the noises.
for some strange reason i can identify most poisonous snakes (oh there is a story there)
* why i can identify snakes?*
Henry Scarano. one man. one mark. one mission. he was epic like chris carb's name of a dashboard confessional album before dashboard even became dashboard.
if you don't know, now you know. My father- had this how to teach his kids not to have any fear mantra when i was growing up.
VA beach-back country-dirtbike tracks *home of my uncle*my father's brother.
this man is a national-fighter- a marine and taught after the service, the marines, how to fight this was how he landed in norfolk, va. we won't get into the deets...
this is my beloved uncle. a man i spent a summer trying to be like at 29 and a childhood admiring... a man who could crush you with his love, and pick you up with his pinky.
my cousin won all sorts of awards on dirtbikes, big time racer as a kid. so when we would visit the cousins at VA beach we would always hit the tracks. how did we get to the homemade one you ask? ps i couldn't of been past my daddy's hip when i was riding a dirt bike and learning about snakes.
Daddy:" Christina to get to the race track you have to get thru this area."
Christina: "ok, daddy. is there something wrong with this area. the dogs won't go near it."
mind you we were staring at some wood damp area.
Daddy:" do you hear the noise?"
Christina: "yes, daddy, sort of sounds like crickets."
Daddy: " no Christina, those are cottonmouths maybe,(oh the maybe was so REASSURING) cooperheads and rattlesnakes. we aren't in the yard at home anymore, it's different here. just run really fast and be very light on your feet. I will be right next to you."
Christina "ok, daddy, tell me when to go"
so, that may of had something to do with it. you know what else- may of...
this little spring.
Alligator Point, Tallahassee, Florida.
my mother's beloved sister lived here. we would visit often.
Henry the Fish.
Wakula Springs, Florida.
a few words on that one.
this is a place, where you would swim not an arms length away from alligators and jump off what appeared to be the size of a New York City Sky scraper to someone so small.
I spent my summers knowing this place well, I even knew which board was my fav. to jump off of, for the most air.
when you approached the beach the sign said, "no small children or dogs allowed"
so, my parents would take us here, so we could take a swim and we loved it.
I think the Boat tour and the Fish named Henry was the best thing I ever saw.
having a gingerale on a small boat and looking at an alligator swim under the glass paddle boat and being taught it was no big deal- is something i think every child should experience...
why? because when HUGE scary things happen, little 5'3 adults can stand up for what is right, even if it may cost them everything.
after jumping off the high jump:
Christina: " daddy, the water is warm, but something tickles my legs on the way up"
Daddy: "oh, those are just the water snakes"
Christina:" will they bite me?"
Daddy: "no, they won't bother you unless you bother them."
Christina: "it feels like i might be bothering them, they swim up with me."
Daddy: "oh, you would know if one bites you. you would get very sick, fast and do not be afraid, i am right here, i would suck the bad out."
Christina: "like how you suck the bee poison out when i get stung?" (I am allergic to bees)
Daddy: "yes. christina. just like that."
2011. 32. goal two. speak a new language.
i am going to take a class. to learn a new language. i already know what the language is.
details to come on this one...
may you all be covered in love today and find maybe a little adventure... this year too.
xo, christina
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