Fourteen and the "Can't Also" Crisis: also known as A Great Many Things

I used to do a list on my birthday of what I learned that year, but every time I make some definitive check mark as to what I learned, I realize later, "Oh honey, you're still learning.  Don't check it off yet."

I will say that 13 was a great age for recognizing more that weaknesses are really secret strengths. When I am aware of my weaknesses--the things I've spent years wishing I could change about myself--and embrace them without being defensive, I can find ways to use them for good.

Growing older is always a journey of becoming a better version of yourself--a journey that will and must include both happy moments and hard moments.  It's how you weave them together, drawing lessons from both, that gives you the power of creating a beautiful life.

So, I'm 14 now. As in years old.

When I turned 13, I was pretty much arrogant about a lot of things. If I had to choose, I would say year 13 was the most prospective, enriching, terribly sad, overwhelmingly joyful, surprising, ordinary, painful, beautiful year so far. It's astonishing to me, what I learned in year 13.

The year contrasted itself nicely, with important lessons on both pain and letting yourself feel pain and also overcoming it. Growth follows.

So begins the can't also crisis.

It's not just Sad vs. Happy. It's everything. I often pigeonhole myself into categories, as if a girl who wants to change the world can’t also love cute shoes.  Or a girl who sings of the joys of family and friends can’t also want to learn more about independence and solitude.  Or an advocate for a cause of great importance can’t also advocate for a cause of little importance like wearing lipstick or buying art or making crafts.

This little crisis has followed me all year, so much that when I found out about the Spice Girls, I actually stressed out about who I would want to be if I had to be a spice.  I loved Posh’s style, but some days you just need tennis shoes, you know?  Sporty Spice is fun.  And Baby Spice?  I love babies!  And then there’s the bold, can’t-mess-with-me badassness of Scary Spice.  I wanted to be them all.  Which probably explains why I love Allspice so much—Mmmm.  Hot wassail.  I digress.

Who said Posh can’t also be Sporty?  We intersect areas of interest in a million different ways all the time, and that’s fantastic.  We certainly don’t have to be everything (and trying to be is a whole ‘nother story), but if we want to explore a little bit of everything, that’s okay.

So why in my mind, even after thinking and writing about this so many times, do I still treat my loves and areas of interest like people who can’t let their food touch on a plate?  Friendship and business and fashion and faith and family and world-changing and creativity and community awareness and activism and advocacy and home decorating and politics and having fun should all be able to be cooked up in a tasty casserole that isn’t nitpicked by my own need to compartmentalize all these passions that a fourteen year old might have.

I think a little bit of analysis is good—it makes us contemplate our beliefs and ascribe some accountability to our choices.  My sister and I recently got into a discussion about the ways we teach and model what we believe about beauty.  “I tell everyone that what’s most important is inward beauty—that it doesn’t matter what they look like on the outside, and yet,” I argued, “I went to the store twice this week because I’m hung up on the fact that the orange tones in the red lipstick I just bought make my teeth look yellow.”

Maybe it has nothing to do with what I think and more to do with what other people think because, listen—I care what other people think.  I just do, even though I’m learning not to so much.  I find myself struggling to painstakingly find equilibrium with every choice I make today.  Make sure everything adds up, aligns, checks out with what you believe. It’s like I’m looking for errors and contradictions in my own life, and there’s a word for people who do that in other people’s lives:  Assholes.  I’m being an asshole to my own self, and I need to quit.

Do I live in a way that contradicts what I preach?  Maybe in some ways I do, and that's okay.  Everything doesn't have to line up perfectly. Things will align eventually.

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes)

-Walt Whitman

There's also a paragraph in a book that says:

"…Even when his thoughts are most irrational and dreamlike, his writing follows them.  “I cannot keep my subject still,” he says.  “It goes along befuddled and staggering, with a natural drunkenness.”  Anyone is free to go with him as far as seems desirable, and let him meander off by himself if it doesn’t…(and here’s the clincher)…sooner or later, your paths will cross again."

I’ve come back to that phrase—“sooner or later, your paths will cross again”—so many times.  Shielding, defending, purposely preventing natural human contradictions just to make sure our identity lines up perfectly outwardly is exhausting and, frankly, a waste of energy that could be poured into our loves of life.  When we truly let go and love what we love, without worrying if all of those loves line up, the contradictions will eventually cancel each other out, and our paths will cross again.

If I'm normally inclined to keep all of the food on my plate separated, then this week I made one hell of a casserole with all that I love. Amid googling "mint green loafers", doing extra credit assignments for math (because I'd rather die than get a B on my report card), reading inspiring stories, hiding under blankets while frantically tweeting and making tea, I realized that Twitter.com is one of the biggest contradictions I've ever come into contact with. I follow tens of people that are almost all complete opposites and I love each of them immensely. Talk about Kenny G meeting Jesus.  All of these areas of interest that I normally exhaust myself in trying to connect the dots to dissolve contradictions?  They’re having an Empowerment Potluck together on my timeline, and I’m only invited when I let go of my shit.

Here’s the thing:  when you stop trying so goddamn hard to make the dots connect, they’ll connect.

Be who you are.  Love what you love.

As I tweeted a few days ago: “When you’re not being who you really are because you’re trying to make sure you’re being real, then you’re denying who you are and that, in turn, is not real.”

Don’t try to be good; be good. Don’t try to impact the world; impact the world. Don't try to connect the dots or dissolve the contradictions or explain what it is you love and why. Just do your thing. Be your good.  Love your loves.  The dots will connect, and a beautiful picture you'll create.
***

“The simplicity that you obtain as a result of controlling your complexity is most satisfying.” Steve Jobs

How do we control that complexity?  All those loves, those interests, those contradictions?  We stop trying to control them.  We invite them all to a party and trust that they'll get along with each other and find connections naturally, without our micromanaging.

"Fashion, meet Faith.  I think you two might find something in common.  Simplicity lover, meet Wants to Change the World. You two are totally going to hit it off."

Play Pharrell's "Happy" because that will get everybody dancing.
Stand back.  Quietly take it in.
Don't freak out if not everyone is choosing to act crazy on the dance floor.
Let all those people, all those areas, all those loves, all those parts of you come alive on their own time, in their own way.

A charismatic dancer can also sit quietly and watch from the sidelines.
A humble thinker can also take silly selfies.
An analytical CPA can also dance barefoot in a puddle.
A world traveler can also burrow into the safe comforts of home.
A critical scientist can also write deep, reflective poems.
A woman can read and discuss Newsweek and also The New Yorker, Fifty Shades of Gray, Christianity Today and Scrapbooks, Etc.

Embrace it all.

I am a great many things, and I'm proud of it.

I cry when I read stories of struggle with self harm, or eating disorders, or loss and the coming through of it--it inspires me.
I swear like a sailor on Twitter and censor it all for this blog.
I believe in God, and communicating with him and connecting myself to his purpose is an important part of my life.
I have friends who don't believe in God.
I believe strongly in owning your voice and making a meaningful impact in the world with what you have to offer.
I often feel vulnerable and unworthy of making an impact.
I am passionate about changing people's views on disabilities and disorders and making the world a more accepting place for marginalized individuals.
I read fashion magazines and stress out when my toe nail polish gets chippy.
I love classical music.
I love techno music.
I love Doctor Who.
I love The Walking Dead.
I care about the environment.
I use a lot of paper towel.
I respect Catholic faith and Jewish faith and Muslim faith, though I am a Christian.
I love my atheist friends.
I dream of living on a quiet prairie, running in fields of wildflowers, smiling in the hot sun.
I dream of living in the big city, hosting parties, visiting museums, hailing cabs to our next big adventure.
I want to help people, connect with people, make the sad feel loved.
I like to buy stuff.
I like to make stuff.
I like to give stuff away.
Sometimes I feel so pissed off, I could knock walls down with my anger.
Sometimes I feel so weak and weepy, I could crumble if you looked at me funny.
Sometimes I feel so strong, I'll say whatever I think and not give a shit whether anyone agrees or not.

But all the time, I am complicated--maybe even contradictory.

Ladies--all the Ladies, let me hear you say:  We are a great many things.
(I had a conversation with Mila that prompted me to write this. We can model clothes and also study architecture)

Happy birthday to myself. And my lovely friend Sofi.
Celebration of life.

A Birthday Post

A birthday post.

Upholding a tradition for when any of my friends' birthdays roll around, I talked to Keryna a lot yesterday and then looked at any old blog posts I could find that pertained to her. I reflected on the gift she is and what she's taught me and what she means to me.

I "met" Keryna through Mila, back in the days when I knew her as "K". Good times. I remember she pretended to be superior and I asked her to describe herself, to which she replied "smart, beautiful, rich and popular." (fyi, she was totally kidding but I didn't know)

And I reacted appropriately. Like, maybe I thought about blocking her.

And I DMed Mila and I was like "Dude, I don't like her. She has too much perfection."

I kind of like that memory because it represents me then--I didn't know anything about her. I didn't know that she was extremely sweet and sensitive and wise, I didn't know that she would be there for me constantly, and I sure as hell didn't know that "has too much perfection" would be one of the least defining predicates following the subject of Keryna's name.

Months later:

Keryna has...
this crazy amazing way of thinking that's so in-touch with who she is and what her opinions are, that it'll blow your mind.
Keryna has...
the funniest imitation of accents that leaves me in side-splitting laughter.
Keryna has...
A determined attitude that has her tearing her way through everything, and it'll no doubt take her far in life.
Keryna has...
a special way of knowing when anyone needs love, and she won't hold back from offering a cute snapchat or comforting words.
Keryna has...
the best jokes, occasionally concerning sarcasm that leaves me exploring the option of blocking her, amazing taste, unrestricted wisdom, and she's one of the most beautiful people I've ever come into contact with.

And I suppose I should tell you that Keryna has a lot of perfection.

***

Although she doesn't want to make a huge deal about her birthday, I do, because this is no different than any of my other friends' birthdays. It's a celebration of life. Every day--no matter who our friends are or how many miles of earth separate us, is a day to celebrate life. That's what makes us all the same.

My personal notes to Kery are written in pen and sealed in an envelope in a package I sent to Singapore, but the blog invites the eyes of people from many different walks of life, some who have twitter and some who don't. Some who share mutuals and some who don't. But we all have something in common. We love and we want to be loved, and sometimes, if we feel inclined... we write about it.

So...

Happy birthday, Keryna.

In the past half year that we've known each other, you've given me invaluable happiness. You are funny, free-spirited, kind, wise, beautiful, etc etc. The way your heart and mind work together to take in this world, and yet still give back, is quite extraordinary to behold. You are an angel and nothing in the world can compare to the beauty you've turned out to be in these months. I love everything about you, from your wisdom and sensibility, to your rages of anger and uncontrollable I-can't-believe-I'm-going-to-see-Taylor-live moments.

Happy birthday, beautiful girl. I love you without restraints. I love you so much.

Pajama Glama

I don't get into Superbowl parties, I couldn't really keep up with the Olympics this year, I haven't seen one episode of Pretty Little Liars yet, but the Oscars? Oh, I do the Oscars--celebrating the golden glutes of that svelte little man is fun.

To break down the show:

Ellen
I love everything she does. I like that, unlike many other comedians, she's never mean or disparaging to people for the sake of comedy. I loved the pizza she ordered and the we're-just-regular-folks kind of feeling she brings to the Oscars while still respecting the art and glamour of the tradition. And I liked her sparkly tux.

Best Dressed

Charlize Theron:  Classic and beautiful.

Jennifer Lawrence:  Red siren. Loved that little structured peplum thing on the hips. Love that she tripped and fell again this year because I'm a tripper and a faller, and she pulls it off so gracefully and brings a refreshing realness to the Oscars.  She bridges the gap between beautiful women walking the red carpet and teenagers sitting in their pajamas watching the red carpet. And she does it so good.

Kerry Washington:  Pregnant women win.  Always.  It's the rule.  A glowing, flowing wonderful representation of motherhood in all its beauty at the Academy Awards.

Amy Adams: My friends said "too simple," but I loved her dress.  I thought she looked regal and confident, and I loved the structured details of the dress against its simplicity.  Love that she skipped a necklace and a bunch of arm candy for some simple dangle earrings.

Lupita Nyong'o  It was fresh, it was flowy, it was ethereal, it was amazing. Her dress was like cotton candy but sophisticated.  The pleats, the color, the V neckline. Holy, holy.  

Speeches
3.  Matthew McConaughey:  Probably scripted and memorized to boot but still heartfelt and delivered so well.  Loved his recognition of God and heroes.
2.  Jared Leto:  The way he thanked his mama and all her hard work in being a single mama and teaching her boys to "be creative, work hard and do something special."  Boys who love their moms for the win.
1.  Lupita Nyong'o: Her smile. Her poetic words.  The way she could barely breathe while she spoke.  And I loved: "When I look down at this golden statue, may it remind me and every little child that no matter where you're from, your dreams are valid."  And then she swished away in her cotton candy dress.

At one point in the show, Ellen grabbed a bunch of stars and took a selfie.  She posted it to Twitter and made a note in the show that she wanted to break the record for most retweeted photo in 24 hours.  It happened with over 2.7 million retweets today.

"God, that's kind of sad," I said last night.  "We're so celebrity-obsessed, national disasters and inspirational stories can't compete with a photo of a bunch of stars at an award show."  Maybe that's true, but I decided to put High Horse back in the stable and take Silver Lining out for a ride.  There is something about the movies and Hollywood that draws us in and captivates us.  Movies helped keep dreams alive during the Great Depression and continue to provide a safe escape for so many people who are hurting today.  And many of this year's nominated films hold important stories--things to make you think.  I'm glad we have movies and only hope big stars can use their influence to make good things happen in the world.  Ellen's doing mighty fine with that.

More coming soon for one of my best friend in the world's birthday, which is tomorrow, and things from my real life best friend's birthday party from this weekend.

And by the way, Clara's birthday was yesterday.

Brooke's birthday is in a few days and then we have my birthday, Claire, Mia, Anina, my brother's, Sofi's.

Holiday freak flag unfurled and flappin' like a mutha.

In the World of Women

For as long as I can remember, I've heard the statements of doom regarding any girl who's entering the world of other girls. Like "Oh, you're going into middle school? Get ready for mean girls." And more recently "Oh, you're going into high school next year? Get ready for the mean girls," I've been advised. Without even thinking about it, I reflexively tense up, ready to go into bootcamp, anxious to prepare myself for this world of meanness -- to arm myself from these so-called "catty bitches".

Oh, to have a nickel for every time someone’s told me that girls are mean. The thing is, I’m a girl. And I’m tired of this collective statement about girls and women and the cloud of meanness that hangs above them when I know so many girls who prove this to be untrue. I’m not a catty bitch. And neither are the girls I know and love.

There’s no doubt I will encounter mean girls in life (I've already encountered a few), and I’d be lying if I told you I haven't experienced the daughter-of-mothers rite of passage of moms consoling crying girls who felt the sting of hurtful words. We’ve all been there. And perhaps, at some time in life, we've been the one to sting too.  But focusing on this meanness and using it to generalize this powerful world of femininity does nothing to empower me and the girls I care about and teach them what I know to be true—that women are amazing. And when they connect to support each other, when they open themselves up to learn from each other, when they take opportunities to celebrate each other’s unique contributions, a powerful force is unleashed—a motivating drive to move forward…together.

I’ve found this to be so true in my own life, specifically lately in the world of writing and blogging and most specifically Twitter, which is often (mis)construed as a microcosm of competition—a veritable breeding ground for mean girls, if you will. If that’s what you seek to find, then yes—you’ll find it. But let me tell you about a far more powerful force that dwells within this crazy thing we call Twitter. It’s the force of Empowering Women, and I’ve met them. I’m meeting them. They come with different ideas, they come with respect, they come with passion, creativity and the desire to see each other succeed because they know that if one succeeds, we all succeed. After all, we’re on the same team. And while my friends and I don’t necessarily agree on all issues or practice the same beliefs or like the same songs, have the same faves or write about similar topics, we understand what’s most important—that we belong to each other; that two voices are louder than one. Because of this, the great community of powerful women’s voices (that’s you and you and you) expands. And because of this, I can focus my direction in life not in safeguarding myself from mean girls but in a far more efficient use of energy—priming myself to be a supportive, kind woman who seeks opportunities to connect and relate with others.

I don’t know exactly how to teach this to the people I care about, but I do know that the best way to teach anything is to live it. My friends and family will see me embrace women with love. They will hear me talk about friends with kindness. They will watch me support, applaud, listen and learn; and through these experiences, I know they will inherit the tools they need to embrace women in their own lives. We need each other.

 



I will tell myself that the world is full of amazing, supportive women, because I've met them. I'll tell my friends the same thing when they think the opposite. And if it feels at times that those women are hard to find, I will tell them to look within themselves. Be that girl, always.

She is powerful and she is strong.
We are powerful and we are strong.

where there is love there is life

I've been sucked in. I joined Pinterest and and Spotify in one weekend, and now I might as well just sell my soul to the devil. Or maybe listen to my Inspired playlist while I mod podge frames and pin cute vintage shoes.


*****

Thank you, mutuals, for all of your comments and help regarding my last post and my tweets lately. All of you really help me a lot you know. The goodness and beauty that you possess is what centers me. You remind me of everything beautiful in the world.

You can't effectively move forward in life unless you have those moments of letting yourself feel the darker side of reality once in a while. I do that, you know. Maybe not publicly every time, but I'm human (if you don't count the unicorn gene). And even after those moments of pushing the bruise to feel the pain, I smile and think to myself...Life is so very rich. Even with the challenges.


Anyways, sad or not, we love love. And any excuse to celebrate it more than it's already celebrated around here...we're so on it.

Not to mention, I like pink.

So, I'm going to look like a pepto bismol ad tomorrow.

Celebrating love.


5 things I'm really in love with right now:

1.) Being told by my english teacher that I'm very "vibrant" and that it shines in my writing as well as outside of it. Vibrant, thank you. Thank you very very much.

One day when I die I want she was vibrant. oh, and she loved. written on my gravestone.

2.) Dancing in the living room to Katy Perry and catching a glimpse of my "moves" in the mirror and laughing hysterically at just how stupid I look dancing alone.

3.) I found a new anthem. Strangely, One Republic brings peace. Because "This is gonna be a good life" makes me think it is gonna be a good life. And we dance and laugh and tell ourselves that our life is simply fabulous. Because it is.

4.) I went running Tuesday night and this afternoon. It's so rejuvinating and stress relieving, it's insane. I know -- "ew, running? wth naomi." No, really. You should try it.

5.) The prospect of break next week. One more day and then all week off. Because some really important and great presidents were born in the same week, and we have some people who are quite patriotic, and that's completely fine. Any excuse to celebrate and, you know, take a break off of school. Thank.

Have a great weekend. And a lovely Valentine's Day.

Enjoying

So, I lied. While the yard writing temporarily rejuvinated my creative lull a few weeks ago, it was just that...temporary. Like a quick buzz off a few beers (or so I hear). Followed by a very un-creative hangover. I know I made it look alluring with all those pretty words and details...but it was just a high. And it crashed. I am officially proclaiming that my inspiration truck has broken down in the ebb region of the great town of ebb & flow. I got it running for a short time, but it putt out after a few miles. I've knocked on mechanics' doors, begging them to get me to flow. because I've been there...and I like it. But no one's open. I'm stuck in ebb. ...and it sucks.

So, I went for help. My friends Rafa and Sofia and Grace have these crazy good book recommendations because they are good strivers and better-ers and they will continue to be amazing. So, with urging from Grace a few months ago, I've decided I'm finally going to actually read Looking For Alaska, and then perhaps The Fault in Our Stars. (yes, I know... "2000 and late". Shut up.)

Anyways, other than uninspired, I'm also feeling relatively sad. Not "sad" really, but closer to that than anything. I laugh and joke and all that, but then sometimes I forget how to feel. Like, "oh my god, I hate my legs. Oh my god, I hate my hair. Oh my god, I hate myself. Oh my god, I suck." And the danger of those last two words? That danger is huge. It is deafening and paralyzing and I'm quite ready for it to go.

I have some proven remedies for certain emotions, and sometimes, it's hard to be sad when you're thankful. So, a traditional "Enjoying" post.


Enjoying...


California

It feels like late spring/early summer already. We've responded accordingly. Dresses and beach at night.


and...

Skype

Another proven remedy for "I suck": Skype with Claire. And another bonus came along with that already awesome activity. Skype with Grace for the first time.

She sounds like I thought she'd sound and acts like I thought she'd act.

She's groovy. I like her so much.

And Claire was lovely as usual. We talk about important things when we skype. Like how "Tobias" is pronounced and how it's hard to find sad bananas.

I like her so much. (also, she knows when I'm sad sometimes even before I do. And it leaves me all wth?)

Happy Monday. I have a huge to-do list. Be amazing, and I'll try to do it too.

Good Begets Good. Always.

I know within five minutes of waking up on a Monday where my take on the day stands—a chipper cheerleading "Yay Monday! (Cat Valentine voice thing starts) Blank Slate! Let’s go!" pep rally or a surrender to the little devil on the other shoulder—the one who wants to drop-kick the "Yay Monday" girl to China and drown her out with, "You. Have. SO. Much. To. Do. Stop with the happy." 
Monday Downer Devil is a pom-pom stealer.

Internal scan during hot chocolate and journal writing Monday morning revealed Pom-Pom Stealer was in the house, a mutual feeling among friends, confirmed with tweets and kik messages. While I accept the fact that every day doesn't look like "Go Team, Go!", I'm at least going to make some efforts to resuscitate the kick-off to a perfectly good week. And I certainly did do that so far. (obligatory Super Bowl kick-off reference.)

Operation Get My Pom-Poms Back was a simple implementation of good choices.  We try and make good choices every day, but when I'm feeling like my pom-poms are M.I.A., I take extra efforts for a full Good Choice Juice Cleanse--flood the gates with good and detox the ick. Every time I implement this strategy, good comes flyin' back like a boomerang, always a confirmation that there is something greater in this world orchestrating all of these beautiful little things, and it matters...all of it matters.

I gave some time to some difficult decisions this week.  Knocked off a few procrastination tasks. I sent encouraging anonymous asks to friends who needed love (always makes me feel better. If you're sad or uninspired, throw a lift to someone else).  I turned my tablet off for a good chunk of  Monday--like not just put it away, but swiped that little "power off" button.  I changed the music so classics drenched our home.  I read books on the floor and ate brownies and when my sister asked for yet another one of those brownies I gave them to her and felt good doing it because it was juice cleanse week.  I went for a run tonight, and when I skipped into our driveway after the run, I skipped right back out to keep it going because it felt amazing.


And just when I was feeling all, "Uuughh, Internet," I went through my interactions and smiled at all the reminders of good tonight--these wonderful connections we can make and the stories of love and determination that continue to show up.  There was a whole slew of little boomerangs in my interactions today. Like a vine that made me smile, and a Claire ask.fm answer that made me smile, and a conversation with Keryna that's making me smile right now. Good begets good.  Always.

Cheerleader girl is back and high-kicking.

All of that goodness fell into place tonight.  
Translation:  I found my pom-poms.  
And good begets good.  Always.

Mary Oliver said it best.  Here's a wonderful affirmation to start a Monday:  
(It works good for Tuesdays too.  And Wednesdays.  And Thursdays.)

“Hello, sun in my face. Hello you who made the morning and spread it over the fields...Watch, now, how I start the day in happiness, in kindness.”   

I'm happy, thank you.