This top is one of my forgotten pieces; an item found crumpled up in the bottom of my dresser drawer, instantly loved all over again.
Monday, October 5, 2015
As open I am with you here on A Mused, you might be surprised to learn how challenging it is for me to open up to my loved ones in my day to day life. Perhaps it's because I have a computer screen to hide behind and if you were to close this window before finishing this letter, I'd never know. However when speaking with someone in person, there's nothing quite as heartbreaking than to see the flicker of interest leave their eyes when attempting to confide in them.
So much has changed since I've last posted. I know I left you with the hope that Paris would light a spark, and in a way it did. I had so many wonderful and happy experiences, and even discovered parts of the city that I had never been to before. Interestingly my favorite part of my trip was a conversation that ended with both my friend and I on the verge of tears; I learned that vulnerability isn't always a knife turned against me.
You see I have been keeping a secret for some time now. I have been keeping up pretenses partly because I have felt that I needed to, partly because I have felt unable to do otherwise. If I could describe my life in a phase, I would say that my world is one in upheaval. Much like the area that I live in, Sonoma County, the soil of my life feels rocky and dry and I have to believe that from a barren and bleak field of circumstances that all this hardship will eventually bear ripe fruit.
A few weeks ago I received a phone call from both my mother and a close friend who told me the same thing: do not hide. They know that when times get tough I find it hard to communicate and instead retreat to the areas that I feel safe, which often leaves me isolated. As much as I would love to believe that my accident is now behind me, I have had to come to terms with the fact that the one I needed to be there for me the very most let me down. I have learned that to fail the ones you love is all too human. I've let go of the hurt and anger, but there is still a bruise that aches when other pains of life hit it.
I have been single for a while now. I may have not told you. Two days after returning from Paris, I was let go from my job, and only the day before I had re-signed the lease to my apartment. Earth in upheaval. In the weeks that I was silent here on A Mused, I struggled with happiness; whenever it found me, I ran. My first evening in Paris I watched the Eiffel Tower sparkle from my window and I found myself elated - only to cry myself to sleep for daring to feel joy.
Not all is bleak - lately I have had beautiful experiences; in fact I have moments of such pure elation that they startle me. On multiple occasions I have fought back tears almost as if I am afraid of my own happiness. In reality I am blessed beyond measure and I am so afraid that much like my accident, life will take everything away in an instant. I have to tell myself that everything is alright...Because in reality, if I take a step back, everything is.
No one ever tells you that happiness is something that must be allowed, and even learned. I have learned that living in the fear of it will destroy me. The outpouring of your support through social media has been overwhelming, and I want to thank you. There have been so many of you who have sent Snaps, emails, text messages (it's true; I do give my number out to a handful of my readers!), and Insta DMs. Thank you, thank you. Here is to living with open arms, waiting for joy.
See you Wednesday.
Thursday, August 13, 2015
Two years ago on this very day, right down to the very minute that this blog post went live, my life changed. It was a rough road to get to where I am today, and to tell you the truth I had hoped that by this time I would have some sort of resolution for you...
But I don't.
What I can tell you is what I have lost and gained along the way. In the early months following my accident, I lost my faith. I lost my faith in the God of my childhood, faith in love, romance, and the power of prayer. I learned to forgive and to release others of my expectations, and to let go of the desire to control things that were far out of my grasp.
What I gained was humility. I learned that I am indeed small in the larger working of things, but not so small that I am rendered insignificant. I am worthy of happiness, but only if I am able to fight for it, work for it, and ask for it. I learned that accident or no accident, we all stumble through life terrified of waking up alone...and that some of us are alone in different ways than others. I learned the power of censorship. I have removed many of the personal essays here on A Mused Blog - not because they no longer hold value, but because I learned to be careful with whom I share my secrets.
Above all what I gained was hope. The last two years of my twenties are a blur. They were swallowed by the same darkness that Nietzsche wrote about; the kind that will consume you if dwelt upon too long. This same time last year I gave myself a goal: If I made it this far, if I was ok...If somehow that spark of love, joy, and hope could still sensed, however faint it was...I would return to Paris. I would return to the city that held me, coddled me, and nearly destroyed me. I would return to it stronger, happier, and above all, victorious. For if there is one thing I know Paris can do, it is to turn a spark into a roaring flame. Let's see what happens.
August 25th cannot come soon enough!
Friday, August 7, 2015
Azu and I spent a sweet afternoon in Sebastopol over the weekend, heading over to Screaming Mimi's. It's lavender ice cream season, and I was thrilled to get out there and get my very favorite flavor! I had first discovered the flavor in Paris while taking a summer class, and it was an instant favorite. However once getting to the ice cream shop, I decided I could wait a little longer, and got sorbet instead. Partly because...