I feel paralyzed by inadequacy. Frozen by overwhelming doubt and inability. These job apps loom terrifyingly and I want to just turn around and wait tables. I can do that. Really well.

And my soul will die.

More wine. And chocolate. 

I want a soft couch bathed in sunlight with a table covered in books at arms length. I want to be surrounded by quotes that speak to life and hardship and challenges and the beauty in mundane, simple things. I want to be in love again. I want maps to cover my walls, not so that I can boast about the places I've been, but so that I can plan trips to see the ones I love who live there. I want music to move me to tears. I want my camera to capture what words never can. I want love to fill every corner of every room. The deep, profound, unquestionable type of love. 

To Regret or Not to Regret?

In my spare (ha!) time I like to peruse strangers' blogs. I find them an intriguing insight into another's thoughts; it's like a window into someone else's mind. Fascinating.

Tonight, I found a hurting blog post who's interpretation of heartbreak made me stop and reflect:

"Thoughts: Regret is Just Love Spelled Backwards

People in the end are just regrets. They are the email you shouldn't have sent. They are the phone call you shouldn't have made. They are the late night you should have walked home alone. They are the streets you should have never walked down and doors that should have stayed closed...

...People in the end are just a series of events we wish we never experienced."

See, I differ in my opinion of past loves; I find this pervasive regret sad and unfair to both parties. It may not have worked out in the end, but that doesn't discredit the happiness, the intimacy, the countless beautiful moments and laughter shared together. I have never, not for a moment, regretted the year we had together, the months I waited, or the tears we shared. And so, I'm countering with my own "thoughts":

Thoughts: Evolve is (ev)Love Spelled Backwards

People, in the end, are teachers. Windows into the secrets of humanity and the universe. They are the ones that forced you to be vulnerable and taught you how to trust. They are the text messages that made you smile at midnight and the hand to hold down countless cracked sidewalks. They are the reason your eyes have more smile wrinkles and the reason there's the understanding of heartbreak hiding in their depths. They are the ones that taught you what you value most - in life, yourself, and in others. They taught you the science of cuddling and pillowtalk, the beautiful riskiness of trust, of and how far you're willing to compromise. They are proof you tried. People, in the end, are a series of teachers that help you discover, and evolve into, who you truly are. 

Good news: My major was approved! I will officially be graduating in June as a Global Health and Social Justice major. Cool.

Good news: A book I conducted research for and helped write was sent to the publishers today at the University of Guadalajara, Mexico. Should be published by Spring 2014. Cool.

Good news: Get to go backpacking through Anza Borrego next weekend for free as the professional photographer. Cool.

Bad news: Exhausted and sick. Can't get out of bed. Ever again. #drama

Yo soy

"Forget about enlightenment. Sit down wherever you are and listen to the wind that is singing in your veins. Feel the love, the longing, and the fear in your bones. Open your heart to who you are, right now, not who you would like to be. Not the saint you're striving to become. But the being right here before you, inside you, around you. All of you is holy. You're already more and less than whatever you can know. Breath out, look in, let go." -John Welwood

Breathe

I lay on my mat tonight, eyes closed, limbs trembling, listening to the sound of my breath.

Each inhale and exhale were deep, powerful, purposeful and soothing. I've learned to really listen to my breathing, pay attention to my breathing; it centers my mind and balances my racing heartbeat. It's therapeutic, whether in the midst of a warrior pose or in the last five minutes of that really intense exam. What I love though, is how your breath has different sentidos. Each part has a different feeling, sentiment, and imagery.

It sounds like the ocean. With each inhale your breath mirrors a breaking wave; crashing upon the shore with life-giving momentum, intensity, curling ripples of oxygen and peace. Desperate and overwhelming, it's easy to get lost in the inhale. But it's that speed and force and power that fills your body, lifts your chin, and gets you through the day. And each exhale is the retreat of the wave back into the vast sea. A release of tension, stress, worry and control. It drags at the grains of sand and fragments of shell as it smoothly pulls back into the dark depths. The shore of your lungs slowly empties until your breath finally tapers off into a quiet whisper between your lips.

It's magical really, if you think about it that way. That your breath is like the tide, ebbing and flowing. Rising and receding. Deep, profound, complex, full of life and mystery.

It's as if the sea were in you.