Eat Pray Love

My life has been pretty typical in the last week: waking up early most mornings, going to the gym, followed by volunteering or going to school for homework or classes. While my schedule has been typical, I have had an epiphany of sorts-a breakthrough, a revelation, a renewed perspective of the world and what it is that I want out of life.

It all started at the movies. Eat Pray Love was a phenomenal movie that spoke to me in so many ways it was eerie. The entire movie, Olivia looked over at me and said, "Stephanie, that is so you." She was right! Julia Robert's mid life crisis mirrored my quarter life crisis. For her, it was a marriage she needed to escape, and although I have never been married, ending a very long and very toxic relationship was the first of many steps in the path to finding myself. Being dissatisfied and settling for someone for the purpose of being consistent or sticking to what is comfortable is a decision and process that suck the life out of you. Trust me, I know this all too well.

Traveling abroad is something that I had once considered, but was told that I could not do. My freshman year in college, I wanted make the most of my college experience and study abroad. My boyfriend at the time threatened that if I even considered it, it would be the ultimate betrayal and we could no longer be together. Considering we were planning for forever, studying abroad wasn't feasible and I discarded the idea along with many of my other aspirations and dreams.

Fast forward a few days and I find myself reading The Blue Sweater by Jacqueline Novogratz like a madwoman because I had to quickly read the book and write an analysis for one of my classes. While reading is usually pleasurable for me, I was so enveloped in this book that I am actually saving the last bit of it to read when I have time to relax. This book was a coming of age story about a woman who, fresh out of college, chanced into a job at an international bank and gave up a prestigious job on Wall Street to work for a non-profit women's organization that developed and assessed lending programs for impoverished woman globally. Her journey, reflections about her experiences and seeing her development and growth and the impact she made was so inspiring that I found myself bragging to everyone in ear shot about how great this book is.

With my life long interest in community service and all of my future career options tailored around helping others, one movie and one book completely changed me forever. Eat Pray Love and The Blue Sweater  worked in conjunction with each other to show me parts of myself that I had suppressed long ago, parts of myself I had not yet realized and my capacity for success and happiness. These last few months have included a lot of important decisions, soul searching, positive changes and a little indulgence every now and then. I realized that the last few months, I have been on a similar journey trying to accomplish the same things. Although I'm not going to leave everything behind to pursue a worldwide quest to find myself, I am half way done with my Peace Corps application and constantly looking for new opportunities to find myself so that I don't end up married, unsatisfied with life and have a mid life crisis in the way that she did.

Life is splendid.

stephhh

Mission 17%

I haven't written in a few days, but you didn't miss much. The highlight of my week was definitely going to a wellness assessment with my personal trainer, Justin. I had to wait an entire week for my appointment and I was so excited, I showed up a whopping hour and a half early, which equals 5:45 am. Justin was impressed with my eagerness and excitement and gave me the first bit of good news for the day: I didn't have to miss my Pilates class! Pilates is my time to relax, clear my mind, work my butt (err, tummy) off. I have to push myself to keep up with my limber classmates, but I never quit and finish class feeling refreshed and ready for the day.

One thing my Pilates class has taught me is that I am capable of training my body to do things I wouldn't ever do otherwise. My body has all of the potential in the world to adapt and transform and I have to power make sure that happens. After traveling to the eliptical and doing 150% of the exercise I had intended, I felt better than ever and only stopped because I had to get to my internship. My goal was to work out for 45 minutes, but 45 turned into an hour and fifteen minutes. I've realized something about goals: we look at goals as an end point- the final destination, but goals are really just milestones and minimums. If you set a goal and meet it, you don't have to stop just because you've met it. Finishing a goal should be encouragement to continue and succeed beyond your expectations.

Although I enjoy going to the gym, taking classes and working out, I have all of the motivation in the world after having my consultation. I had anticipated the worst, but I am in tip top shape. I would like to thank genetics, and my mother, because I inherited nice legs and interesting proportions that make me unique and very well equipped for some exercises and healthy by default. I would also like to thank my youth because my body can do amazing things that it will not be able to do so well when I'm older-like metabolize fast food. It is only recently that I have taken an interest in my health and knowing that I can only get healthier from here is the best encouragement I could have!

At the moment, I have a goal that I would like to reach within the next few weeks. If I work really hard and keep disciplined (and away from double cheeseburgers) I can meet that goal. I feel accomplished with every healthy decision I make. I feel empowered when I realize that I have an attainable, measurable goal that will positively affect every aspect of my life. My motivation, my energy, my organization, my commitment, my health, my figure and most excitingly, the disgusting habit of smoking. Every time I go to the gym, I am one step closer to quitting and that was the main reason I got the membership.

Sure the gym has been a life saver and dramatically changed virtually everything in my life right now, but there is another component to it as well. While I am doing all of this for myself, I have a special someone in mind that I would like to impress when I finally get to see him again. I'll only be seeing him for a few days before he leaves for seven months, but I want to make the time we spend together count. I want to be refreshed, relaxed, vibrant and glowing with a trimmer physique and loads of confidence. This has been a huge motivation because it's like a treat for the both of us.

Now it's off to bed because I have a LONG productive day to be had tomorrow. Aside from Pilates followed by some gym work, I will be finishing my Research Methods introduction, which is very important and will require quite a bit of time and energy.

until next time,

stephhhh

Parsimony

In each of my classes this semester, we discussed parsimony. To my professor's delight, this complicated little word means simple. Short, cut to the chase, simple, easy, parsimonious. I love the word and the idea, but parsimonious is something that I am not. It takes me forever to tell a story, I include every detail possible with the belief that, in order to understand what I am saying, one must know every little detail. I use a lot of words to describe things and sometimes speak in the some way that I write papers.

One important thing to remember in writting is parsimony. No one likes to read, in fact, there is a utensil dispenser at work that customers can never seem to find. Interestingly enough, the more signs that I put on the dispenser, the more people can not find it. In an effort to have customers notice the dispenser, I put a huge sign on the top of the dispenser that says, "UTENSILS!" and I am convinced that people avert their attention because they see words. People hate to read. People don't read their emails, don't read signs. People just don't read.

All of my blogs are very long. They have a lot of words and a lot of thought. Definitely not parsimonious. I'm not parsimonious and will only be parsimonious when I need to be. The beauty of having my own blog is that I have the creative freedom to type all of what I want, say whatever I want to and it doesn't have to be concise or parsimonious.

My ramblings about parsimony are mostly because it is a funky little word that was on my hardcore Research Methods exam I just took. I feel good about it. I'm not exactly sure how well I did, but I'm almost sure I will score a B. The exam itself wasn't hard, it was just one of those exams you look at and your mind goes to scrambled eggs. I think I did a good job of making sure those scrambled eggs were "well done."

Will I ever be parsimonious? Probably not. That's what makes me who I am and actually has a lot of benefit from time to time. I'm okay with the fact that it takes me three sentences to describe well what someone might be able to in a few words. Although theories and research designs must be parsimonious, I don't. And I like that.

with love,

steph

Blow Off Some Steam

Today marked day two of my Pilates class. In the last two days, I discovered that much of the work out you do is not in class, but doing normal things when you get out of class. For example, as I was placing a lid on a container at work, my abs tightened. This sounds strange, but normal everyday things were engaging muscles I didn't know that I had pre-Pilates.

A few minutes early, I strolled into class and was far more awake than anyone should be at 6:00 am. Everyone else was mellow and relaxed and my eyes were wide, my movements quick and I was ready to go! I began to regulate my breathing and pushed through the entire class, sore from class on Tuesday.  It was challenging, but I stuck to it and finished the 45 minutes a little more sore than I was when I came to class.

This morning was my first morning of cardio. I used to run, but two sprained ankles later, that is just not a feasible or pleasant workout. I opted for the eliptical and made a deal with myself that if I spent 20 minutes on the eliptical, I would reward myself with 20 minutes in the steam room. Sounds simple enough, right? WRONG. I am sick, my throat is swollen and I am slightly asthmatic, which means that I have a lot of drainage, nausea, chest congestion and shortness of breath. I pushed through with some really awesome music and letting my mind and eyes wander from the timer on the machine.

At the end of the twenty minutes, I wanted to do more. So I did! I did it for about ten more minutes and decided to give it a rest because I didn't want to overwork my sick body. I felt really good and I was ready for my reward. I mosey around the locker room and try to determine what I am or am not supposed to be wearing in the sauna. I remembered a scene from the movie Couples Retreat and I kind of remembered them wearing towels, so I entered the hot, steamy eucalyptus room.

I practiced my new found breathing techniques and eventually became so relaxed that I dozed off. After waking up, I was a little freaked out, but I continued to enjoy my reward. Afterward, I took a really long and amazing shower. My shower is dark because of my shower curtains and faint lighting in my bathroom, so this huge, bright shower was refreshing. After the shower, I spent an inordinate amount of time getting ready-make up, hair and all.

A sausage burrito and some water later, I feel more refreshed, relaxed and motivated. Honestly, I can't wait to go back to the gym! I am kind of thinking of sneaking in some exercise every morning so I can feel like this every day. Also, I'll be doing kickboxing at some point, which will definitely help me blow off a little steam.

with love,

steph

Just.Breathe.

As I jumped out of my bed at 5:00 am this morning, I was pumped to go to my first Pilates class. I slapped on some yoga pants and ran around frantically trying to collect what I needed for the day: gym bag, book bag, work clothes, etc. Falling out of my door loaded with way too much baggage, I skipped up to my car, plopped everything in and drove to the gym in the pitch dark.

I took the highway to get to the gym and almost ran off the road because I was daydreaming, or maybe more like half asleep, which woke up whatever part of me had still been asleep. Wide awake, I bounce into the gym one minute late. One minute! I wanted to get there a few minutes early to do some cardio before class, but I wasn't going to sweat it (pun intended). I strolled into class a little lost and bustling with excitement. I plop my stuff down slowly as to avoid disrupt the mood and tone that was well established by time I got there.

I grabbed a mat, laid down and got myself in sync with the rest of the class. Well I tried to anyway. At first, I wasn't breathing much, I was staring all around and I was paying very close attention to one of my classmate's finesse and range of motion. A few minutes into class, I realized that everyone else was at ease and I was concentrating so hard, breathing so little and looking around and thinking way too much. I closed my eyes, listened to the instructor and focused intently on the music. I was no longer concerned with whether or not I was doing it right. It was as if the teacher could sense my epiphany as she said, "Just breathe. That's all you have to do. Breathe in and breathe out. The rest will come. Just inhale, exhale and repeat."

Just breathe. Just breathe?? That's an interesting concept. You would think that breathing comes naturally. I mean, we do have to do it in order to survive and all, but breathing is much harder to do than one might think. With so many demands, so much to manage, so much to think about, so much to do and never enough time, I usually forget to breathe. Actually, I always forget to breathe. I am rarely as cool as a cucumber, in fact, I can be one of the most tightly wound people out there.

I envy those who have a natural ability to be "laid back" or easygoing because I'm always really excited,  talkative and always always always thinking about too many things at once. In fact, I apologize to Olivia every time I go on a tangent (which is pretty much every time I open my mouth). She always says, "Stephanie, you're so random. You're talking about twenty things at once." If you think I talk a lot, you should see all the stuff I think about at one time!

At this point in my life, I am in a great position. I have a lot to be thankful for and I can handle stress and life in general with much more ease than I would have ever been able to before. I can roll with the punches and I know that my "worst" days now are better than my best days back then. Even though I don't stress the small stuff as much and I know that the sky isn't falling and it's not the end of world if I don't do something as well as I would have liked to, I forget to breathe. My new sense of peace and stability means nothing if I forget to breathe.

Sometimes I will notice a particularly attractive street lined with huge green trees with splashes of sunlight on the road. This is probably about the only time I breathe. Ever. Oh, and also when I listen to Norah Jones, because her music is perfect for relaxation.

I went through the day correcting my posture, paying attention to my breathing and feeling better than I can remember feeling. I was so relaxed at my internship this morning, my supervisor was probably wondering what I'd been smoking or drinking that early in the morning. With one class, Lisa, the instructor, completely changed my life. Life is so much better when you breathe! I've only been doing it for a day and the benefits are innumerable! Breathing changes your posture, your thoughts, your mood and your life. I wish someone had told me to breathe a long time ago.

Ahh, well. My mission to clear my mind of all the clutter and de-stress in healthy and positive ways is one of many goals I have just set for myself. It will be a lot of work, a big time commitment and force me to push myself a little harder, but I know it will all work out if I just breathe.

A Walk to Remember

Five years ago I would have laughed in your face if you told me that I would be typing a blog on my laptop, in the house I live in, which I can afford, in spite of being a college student, with the full-time job I have at a Chinese restaurant which I get to in my cute little Honda Civic. Five years ago, if you asked me how many days until my 18th birthday, I would be able to tell you without hesitation. At that age, that was the only thing I had to look forward to; there was no possibility of college, no opportunity for growth, advancement or achievement, just my legal capacity to do whatever I wanted, which was mainly just to move out.

Reminiscing about my teenage angst could be a result of the fact that I just turned 20, which is the most awkward and uneventful age to turn. I could be looking to the past as a way to reflect on what makes me different as a 20 year old senior in college, but I'm not. After reading a few witty and entertaining blogs, I caved and decided to create one of my own. After reaching this decision, I remembered that I had a blog when I was younger, and after a little digging and time, I found a lot more than what I was looking for.

When people imagine the younger versions of themselves, they imagine somebody very similar to their current self. It is only when an individual is confronted with their past identity that one notices the great contrast. You never know how far you've come until you see where you came from. I know that I have changed over the years: I changed after I moved to North Carolina, I changed from year to year in high school, I've changed every semester of college, I've changed after life-altering events, etcetera, etcetera. I know that I am not the same exact person I was years ago, but that person is not all who I am today.

To reflect about the relationships I had and didn't have, to remember the way I viewed the world and to remember how much I did and didn't know about life was certainly an eye opener. I could analyze that blog, as well as old emails for years and probably come up with volumes of analyzes. I was quite an interesting creature at the early throws of teenagedom. My entire identity was dramatically redefined several times throughout my teenage years, each caused by a particular event, rite of passage or transition. Sometimes I re-invented myself, but mostly, I was the product of my environment, changing in sync with whatever world surrounded me at the time.

I would consider myself a floater in those years. I never really had an opinion on much, I  just went with the flow. Sometimes this kept me from getting in trouble and sometimes this was the very reason I got into trouble. It's strange to realize that individual was me at one point in my life because I don't recall having formidable opinions, values, ideas or even a personality in those years. I've always been a little on the sassy side, but I didn't know who I was back then because I truly was a nobody. I had virtually no opinions, likes or dislikes and can only remember my life decisions based upon who was around me at the time. This would be a joke to anyone who knows me now because I am one of the most stubborn, outgoing, opinionated and passionate people you will meet, sometimes to a fault.

As I took this walk down memory lane, I wished that I had the opportunity to tell that young, floating little girl that everything is going to be more perfect than imaginable. I would tell her that the world is her oyster and to believe in herself and her capabilities despite any adversities. I would tell her to watch out for certain people and to hold tighter to others. I would tell her to love quickly and trust slowly, to keep herself a priority at the end of the day and to embrace her strengths and develop her interests. I would tell her that life is too short to sweat the small stuff, that little upsets are not the end of the world and that there is no magic birthday or time when everything is going to be perfect and that's okay.

Unfortunately,  these revelations, insights and this road to self discovery are occurring in the wee hours of the morning, reducing the amount of sleep that I will get before my eleven hour work day tomorrow minute by minute. Also, the time spent crafting this blog could have been productively spent completing homework assignments. I'll be a little tired tomorrow and a little behind with my homework, but I will be better for it, as this was certainly a memorable and worthwhile walk down memory lane.

with love,

steph