October

There was not one bad day in all of October.
It's not like I was expecting any; I just had lofty expectations.

On the 9th day I went to the airport in the dark, and woke up to the most incredible sunrise over Cincinnati.
I can't even begin to describe the depth of the colors and the way the light sparkled.

Just a few hours later, our pilot declared that we must all look out our windows right now. It was a funny moment--never have I heard a pilot insist we observe the whole descent into the Salt Lake Valley, but we did and I would have watched for hours.

I decided right then that if I had to pick a favorite day out of 31, that would be it. 

And it wasn't even 10 am.

the answers

[part one]

I have none.

I'm buying a lot of round trip tickets this year.

Who knew living paycheck to paycheck was so fun?

Moral of my story:

It's hard, but absolutely good.

I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm doing it anyway.

photo credit: Ahlstrom Productions

brooklyn, ny

everyone has a song, or two

a song you drive to

a song that makes you

feel

my summer song was the same as a million others'

my night song was cliche

but you were listening to Sam Cooke

dark eyes focused on my shady refuge

shoulders unapologetically leaning away from yours

a light changed

a smile, a wave

and Sam Cooke was gone

the question

By December 31, I will have visited Utah four times in 2014. 

The number of days spent in its borders hovers around one month. 

Why don't you just move back?

When are you moving back?

Just move back.

I hate to even say I'm visiting because I'm forced to remember I don't belong.

Not right now.

That fact isn't inherently bad. 

I have a home that I love.

It's just that I have many homes that I love.

photo credit: Ahlstrom Productions

My sterile, rented walls act as a vision board. Words barely held up by polka dot tape.

"I have left my heart in so many places"

Each time my calendar turns, I take a moment to feel completely. Usually it's awe—a ridiculous composite of wonder and fear. It's almost a spiritual experience, and to be honest, it occurs more frequently than on the first of the month.

Whenever I stop and let my brain do its thing, I hear the same string of observations:
"It's November? This year went by so fast. My life is insane. What am I doing? This might be the best year yet, though. I DON'T EVEN KNOW."

And this all happens in two seconds.

It may be a little early to recap and reflect on this year, but I really am constantly in awe (wonder and fear) of what is happening.

The fear stems from my understanding that I have not grown as much as I could have in the past year, that many personal goals remain unmet, and that many days host uncertainty.


Ah, but here's the wonder: somehow, regardless of the facts above, I'm still living my life. And it is good. Good should never be a first-rate descriptor for something so beautiful, but there are so many feelings involved that it's hard to know where to begin. So, good it is.

Wonderful things are still happening to me. At some point during each slight mental breakdown regarding what the hell I'm doing with my life, I realize that I just have to do it however I know best.

I've always said my life motto is "fake it til you make it." But this year, I had an epiphany.

No one knows what they're doing, ever. Adults have lied for centuries about knowing exactly how to navigate this life. Laugh if you must at this hyperbole, but recognize that truth, and live your life.

So, that is what I'm doing.

I'm a writer.

I've been in hibernation for too long and it's difficult to feel the flow. 

There was a time when a sentence would form in one breath, 

but now I breathe hundreds—thousands—before it makes sense.

Journal writing has gotten easier.

I found something that works for me. But it's still hard to be vulnerable in public.

I want to be, though. I need to be.

I'll be around.