Loving means taking the lump of who we are today and forgiving ourselves for what we did and didn’t do. Loving means tough work, and the beauty of the reward that follows.

Perhaps plastic bags were given to us strictly to teach us a lesson. That we cannot create what cannot easily be destroyed if it only is built for one-use in it’s lifetime. We must create things for the sake of function, durability, versatility, and beauty so that we can appreciate each thing as we use it.

Women, partially because of our upbringings, and partially because of our ties with the moon, are able to see and feel and witness our world as it is. Our sadness for the current state of things is an important part of the widening consciousness of how humans are participating.

The song comes on. You know what song. The one you say ‘Sh sh sh, hold on, I love this song’ as you turn up the volume. The ‘ Oh my gosh I haven’t heard this song in forever’ song, that you proceed to know every single word to.

There is no formula for love. There is no formula for how to be human. No guidebooks for what to eat, how to dress or who to be that transcends all people. There are no answers that guarantee happiness. This is what we call life.

Many of my friends have suggested ‘going slow’ which little do they know, is not an option when you are moving fast. Moving, traveling, changing place… they all lead to a feeling of ‘carpe diem’ every. single. day. With the widespread unknown of if you will see a person or a place again, each moment becomes rich with the desire to savor and slurp them up.

I had landed back in the land that knew me more honestly and deeply than anywhere in the world, and yet I felt misunderstood. People often dismiss what they don’t understand, or dreams that they don’t believe to accomplish, or people who have lived a life different than their own.

I have developed a ritual of spending the first half-hour of my morning with myself. I’m not one to give advice, but if I were to suggest anything, this precious period of stillness and solitude does wonders for the reboot of the mind. Its not fancy.

I want a love that isn’t afraid of feeling. A love that breathes, and gives, and takes in equal doses. The kind of love that gives you goosebumps, and is so easy that its almost hard to talk about because you don’t want to jinx it

The walking away is not easy. You are allowed to be mad, upset, hurt and all of the shit that comes along with breakups… but the more steps you put between you and that ding-dong who let you go, the more grateful (I hope) you will feel that you didn’t end up stuck in a lifetime of feeling inadequate or needy with him. Amen and thank you to that.