Typically, I round out a travel series with a “What I’ve Learned” post but I really don’t feel like doing that this time, at least not in the same fashion. Instead, I’m going to use this closing space differently. We’ll see how it goes.
POST-TRIP FEELS
It’s weird, I’m happy and I’m excited to be home. I feel refreshed, more okay with myself and certain pitfalls I’ve been working through than I was pre-trip.
It’s really quite easy pretending as if everything is alright on the outside though. I don’t know at what point in life I began to feel like a burden but I’ve withheld a lot of my hurt from the people that love me most, especially lately. Trying to be tough or some shit, I don’t know. It probably has to do with not wanting to admit aloud that I failed.. again. Or that I don’t want to worry anyone because there are others to worry about or that I fear that I may actually be unlovable or that I have no idea which path I’m supposed to go down. Or maybe just that I don’t know if people can handle what I have to say. (P.S. I don’t mention these #sadgirl things for pity, far from it. I reference them because they’re true and I’m tired of pretending that I’m okay when honestly, sometimes I’m not.)
This past week though, has provided clarity in ways I’ve never really before recognized and while I’m still figuring out what some of it means, it leaves me feeling calm and alright. Like, actually alright. I know who I am, I know what brings me peace, I know my worth, I know who feels like sunlight in my life. I know all of these things about myself and those around me that I admire. I don’t want to waste that.
Leading up to this adventure and throughout, I had three phrases on repeat in my mind:
“Purposely do hard things alone and life won’t seem so hard.”
“What is for me will not miss me.”
“Lord, teach me to sing in the darkness.”
This trip has taught me to romanticize my own life, to live a bit more unapologetically, more bravely. As a people-pleaser, this sometimes feels nearly impossible. Whenever I travel, especially solo, I feel as though I’m walking around with a coat of arms; I’m not ashamed of anything or embarrassed of myself or nervous to fail. I’m confident and full of life and authentic. I need to apply that to my everyday life in the areas that lack it presently and I will.
THE ITINERARY & THE PLANNING
I went hard on the itinerary because I’m a freak in the spreadsheets. I’m also hilarious. I may or may not have had three versions of the same itinerary in different formats just for funsies. My tried and true OG spreadsheet itinerary is and always will be my fav but I am a whore for a slide-deck so I obviously needed to make a complimenting version there. If anyone wants to get nerdy, let me know and I’d be happy to share the deets.
A couple of random things though.. I, one-hundred-thousand percent regret joining a Banff & Jasper National Parks Facebook group. I’ve joined plenty of travel groups in the past along my planning journey’s but for whatever reason, I found this particular one to be both too much and honestly, more negative than positive in terms of interaction on posts where people were seeking feedback and advice. Maybe I was too in my feels about shit or something but 10 out of 10, you can plan your trip to the Canadian Rockies without input from that particular group.
Secondly, I know I’ve said this a few times along the way, but dang I wish I had more time in the region! I was aware of this going into it though but I don’t have a buttload of vacation time to work with.
Two travel days aside, I ended up having a full five days in the Banff, Jasper, Kootenay, and Yoho National Parks areas. I jammed A LOT in a very short period of time, I did A LOT of driving and had very little sleep. I took time to rest and to slow down once I found myself to the destinations I sought, but five days is about seven too few to really truly immerse yourself in everything.
If your work/life balance and pocketbook can allow it, book yourself a solid two weeks, will ya?
DID I BECOME A PODCAST GIRLY?
Maybe, the jury is still out. I listened to all sorts of ‘casts. Pods? I want to shorten everything, is that a millennial thing? Going into it, I really thought I was going to latch on to the self-help genre like a leach but those ones were actually the most difficult to listen to and not due to a lack of self-awareness. The few I dabbled in felt ingenuine and that just gives me the ick.
I’m still trying to figure out if I’m into the murder-mysteries, still working my way through the various show recs. Nothing seems to compare to Forensic Files, lol. But dang am I into the nerdy shit. Radio Lab, You’re Wrong About, and Huberman Lab are top tier! Thank you to those that sent recs!
PARTING THOUGHTS..
Everything is better with an accent and God is good. Amen.
P.S. I made a TT of my trip, I almost Plutoed it because it took an eternity and a half to actually do but maybe that’s just because I’m not a hip youth anymore and am falling behind on the technologies. Anyway.. I’m convinced that this will help me to romanticize my own life. Here it is!
The last couple of days feel like such a blur, in the best way. Most places I’ve traveled to, I’ve often felt like I did all the things or saw all the places, for lack of a better way of saying it. The opposite is true here. I wish I had another week or two weeks to explore, I wish I could slow time down or at least find a way to really hold on to the seconds that will become some of my fondest memories.
Today’s highlights included enjoying an NA orange and elderflower beverage atop an overlook with a group of people I’d just met. We all hopped on a Brewster Sightseeing replica of an old open-top bus. It was high-key very cool.
Following that, I found myself reaching the summit of Sulphur Mountain via a gondola all to myself, admiring the expansive views of Banff proper from the clouds and all of the mountains that surround the area for miles and miles beyond what my eyes can even see. What a way to end the stay.
Tonight, I head to Calgary and fly back home in the morning. I already miss it here, damnit.
P.S. There’s an alpha grizzly bear in the Banff region. They refer to him as The Boss, he’s responsible for over 70% of the grizzly population presently. What a ladies man, eh? Anyway, I guess he’s been hit by a train twice and still manages to mosey around these parts. It’s all anyone can talk about. What a berry-eatin’ stud!
Canada does not fuck around with public transportation or public intoxication and not in the way you think. I’ve never been on a shuttle so packed to the brim until today. Among the signage that clearly states no open containers on the bus, many sported a cracked Truly or a half drank water bottle full of what I can only assume is the Jungle Juice of my high school days.
I felt like a fly on the wall this evening, as if I was almost watching a reality TV show IRL. It was a fun and weird and crazily wild 25 minutes back to downtown from Lake Minnewanka (the rowdy peeps joined from Johnson Lake, I assume that’s the genZ place to par-tay). At one point some chick wanted to crowd surf while another was FaceTiming her mom in Jersey. The guy squeezed next to me was quite ill, ready to barf at any second. His friends were a collection of people who seemed to be from all over the world, they managed to press pause on their festivities and get him home. It was actually quite heart-warming to see this unfold in real time. The level of care and genuine concern they had for each other seemed like something that isn’t often found, especially mid-shenanigan.
GOLDEN SKYBRIDGE
On my second to last full day in the glorious Canadian Rockies, I adventured somewhere between Yoho National Park & Glacier National Park in British Columbia to an area called Golden.
For some reason, I have an affinity for heights or maybe the sinking feeling in my stomach when I look down, I don’t know which but I live for it. Deep in the forests of Golden, there’s this incredible adventure wonderland equipped with ziplines that cross canyons, a mountain coaster (which was down for maintenance, bummer!), axe throwing, and so much more. They have this set of pedestrian suspension bridges that sway between the two ridges of the canyon and man did I get my fix walking across those suckers a few times!
I will admit though, for the first time on this trip, the drive to and fro this excursion wasn’t super worth it for me. Had I been more interested in the other activities available here, it’d definitely be a worthwhile stop but due to time, I choose between stopping here for a couple hours or visiting Emerald Lake (which was along the way). I don’t regret the choice by any means because it was a pretty cool experience but I’m going to forever day dream about Emerald Lake, the jewel I most favor.
LAKE MINNEWANKA
I later found myself on Lake Minnewanka (pre-Canada-Day-chaos) listening to the history of the lake with a city beneath it (no really, an entire city remains at the bottom of this lake). My favorite part of this lil’ cruise was midway through, when we were in the dead center of the lake with 400+ feet of water and aquatic life below us, with no connection to the rest of the world.. the captain turned everything off and asked everyone aboard to relish in a moment of silence. A full minute of quiet. Of peace on the water. It was pure bliss. We need more uninterrupted, distraction-free silence like that. Or at least, I do.
I was listening to a podcast yesterday (on my hunt to be a podcast girly). They were discussing the percentage of men that carry a knife on them and it reminded me of a very silly inside joke I used to have with someone. In a matter of moments, I experienced joy in the memory of the joke and a deep sadness that I’ll no longer get to share that joke in the same way again, if ever. It’s weird to have a brief sense of elation and then within seconds, being reminded that happiness lives in a closed chapter.
Today has been a bit of the same, lots of exciting, holy-shit-this-view-is-unreal moments. Lots of talking-to-God-out-loud moments. Lots of moments finding myself saying “You can do hard things.” Lots of joy, lots of wishing I weren’t seeing all of this alone but also.. lots of peace. Lots of lots, much of which, I’m going to keep close for now.
LAKE AGNES TRAIL
Hiking up the Lake Agnes Trail might be the most physically challenging thing I’ve ever done. The 4.6 mile out and back hike doesn’t seem long looking at it on paper but it is littered with baby boulders and roots of trees that tower as high as skyscrapers, or so it seems. After a steep 1,427 foot elevation gain, reaching Lake Agnes at 7,005 feet above sea level, you’re greeted with a rushing waterfall and Lake Agnes Tea House, which is only accessible via this route.. or helicopter.
It was a test of endurance for me mentally. Truthfully, the trek gave me a lot of time to really sit with nothing but my seemingly unstable breath, a rocky path of thoughts, and a few mini-epiphanies. This trip has been a roller-coaster of emotions which probably isn’t a surprise to anyone that knows me but for the first time in quite awhile, it was cathartic to be in this space with myself, alone. It forced me to shed some of the worry and fears I have, even if momentarily. I know one difficult hike doesn’t solve the worlds problems, but I gained some clarity I’d been seeking and that felt pretty damn good.
I spent a few hours at Lake Agnes and the Teahouse, pairing a made-from-scratch blueberry apple crisp with Lake Agnes Wildberry Herbal Tea. It was a great way to be treated once reaching the summit.
The story of Lake Agnes Teahouse is really pretty incredible, there’s no electricity here and the staff has to hike the very same trail I did, disposing of trash and bringing new supplies on a weekly basis; living on site the rest of the time. The Teahouse itself started out as a pitstop or refuge for hikers built by the railway but is now family owned. Most of the windows, tables, and chairs remain original from 1905. They really don’t make ’em like they used to!
LAKE LOUISE
There really are no words for Lake Louise, it’s both picture perfect and absolutely impossible to capture. To get to the Lake Agnes Trail, you must first pass through the Lake Louise boardwalk area. I arrived around 6:45 AM and it was already quite crowded but nothing in comparison to when I returned later in the day.
Post-hike, I felt weak, my legs shook each time I stopped moving. Oddly, I was both exhausted and full of energy. There’s this little area along the shore of Lake Louise, away from the crowd right before the trails begin, where you can just walk directly into the lake on a few stone steps. And let me tell you.. the most luxurious feeling in the world may just be removing your clunky ass hiking boots and sweaty socks, feeling the heat of the stone steps on your bare feet, and walking into the ice bath that is the reflectively radiant Lake Louise. Talk about relief.
Now, of course, I want to find an actual ice bath in Fargo. For the last couple of months, I’ve been dabbling in cold shower blasts (when I remember, that is). I haven’t dug into the benefits much, but I know there are some. Adventuring into a full ice bath.. that seems like a thrill. And kind of horrible.
Welp, in the spirit of going with the flow and listening to the advice of locals yesterday, I semi-scrapped todays original itinerary and replaced it with a much less exhausting day. The driver I met for Brewster Sightseeing (fun fact, my mom’s maiden name is Brewster), told me it’s great to have ambition but this isn’t the kind of ambition you need.
Cool. Cool. Cool.
I appreciated his honesty though and I’ve been thinking about it all day as I wandered the downtown streets of Banff instead. I feel like my entire identity is engulfed by ambition in ways I don’t even think about. By definition, ambition is a strong desire to do or to achieve something, typically requiring determination and hard work. My issue is that I always feel like I’m trying to achieve something.. I’ve got the determination, and I’m either putting in or willing to put in the hard work but I don’t always know what it is that I’m trying to achieve or it’s one of those fun ‘out-of-your-hands’ kind of things.
While I pondered that, I tried the legendary Cow’s Ice Cream for breakfast because I was channeling my niece Emma aka little miss ice cream is her motto and after awhile, I ran across the iconic bear that Marilyn Monroe had a photoshoot with once upon a time for LOOK Magazine. I didn’t actually know this but I’m a legendary eavesdropper. It resides in the Banff Trading Post these days. Trading Posts remind me of home, Warroad home. They used to have the best Trading Post in all the land, that was pre-flood in the early aughts. I know they rebuilt after that but I don’t think it’s open anymore.
CAVE & BASIN
I found myself at the Cave & Basin National Historical Site as I wandered. It’s a must-see by the locals and today, I found out why. This place is why Banff exists. Back in the early days of the Canadian Pacific Railways, a couple of ol’ boys stumbled upon this cool ass thermal spring. The natives in the area had known about it for centuries but once these railway workers found it, the area essentially exploded (with people). There’s so much more detail than that to the full story but if I told you everything, there’d be no point in going, right? Also, I’m doing a poor job at paraphrasing!
Before I move on, three things that really wow’d me about C&B:
I’ve been to caves and thermal springs before but this is the first one that had a distinct smell so much so, that it could almost knock you out. Sulphur Mountain is very appropriately named.
Back in the day, this entire area was open to the public to swim and bathe in, it was a fun hangout spot. The old photos throughout this historic site were so interesting to look at and compare to how it looks today. It’s wild to think that the entire “pool hall” was literally a pool in comparison to the community art space I visited.
There are, allegedly, a certain species of snail that only live here and that’s the main reason they closed this area to the public for swimming and recreation; to keep these super-special-pretty-much-almost-extinct snail pals alive. Leave it to the Canadians to save the snails.
SKYWALK & ALTITUDE
It’s nearly 7:30 PM and I’m sitting at Altitude Restaurant overlooking five of Alberta’s glaciers. This is my one treat-yo-self meal of the trip where I’m not going to look at the price. Just kidding, I have to. While I want to be one of those people who just orders whatever they want off the menu without a care in the world, I typically make my decision based on the prices of the things I like, choosing the least expensive. It doesn’t matter who’s paying, that’s just how I operate. I think it stems from childhood and how money was handled or discussed around us kids. I don’t fault my parents for that, though. It’s just a thing that is forever engrained within me. It does keep me financially-cautious, I suppose.
THE END to another random trail of thoughts, back to the flashy glacier meal..
I had poached Cornish hen for dinner on a bed of farrotto, served with a variety of fresh bread, garnished with whipped butter and soubise sauce. That’s a lot of words, I’m glad I took a photo of the menu or I’d never have remembered. The hen was cooked to perfection and the farrotto was so divine. I need to find a replica recipe for it when I return home!
Preceding dinner, I took a quick trip over to the Columbia Icefield Skywalk in Jasper National Park overlooking a huge cross-section of Sunwapta Valley; waterfalls to the right, Athabasca Glacier to the left, and a see-through floor dropping down hundreds of feet into the valley below! It was v. cool.
I’ve only been here a couple of days and I’m already wishing I had another week to explore. Cutting my original plans down for today was a medium-sized bummer but I know it was the right call. I’m sure I’m getting ahead of myself but I can’t wait to return to this area of the world to visit the few places I’ve already seen and adventure along so many of the places I won’t get an opportunity to on this trip. Here’s to a future of Icewalk excursions, Spirit Island explorations, and Moraine Lake canoes!
A handful of years ago, I was gifted a travel journal and I take it along with me on my adventures. Depending on the trip (and my energy level), it’s difficult to find time to write while traveling. I’ve made an effort over the last few years to write less and savor more; to live in the moment, if you will, which I’m growing to favor. I don’t know how many more of these travel blog trips I have left in me. I often put too much pressure on myself to outperform whatever I’d previously done. I truly do love writing but it’s also hard to squeeze it into a touristy, explore-y, adventure-y day.
While this journal is just scribbles, I do take it out every now and then when I’m in an area of rest or downtime. Sometimes it’s to transcribe (like part of today’s post) and sometimes it’ll just hang out there for no one to see. Here are what some of my scribbles turned into..
PEYTO LAKE
I’m sitting on a giant boulder beneath the Upper Viewpoint viewing platform overlooking Peyto Lake. This is the third and final hike of my day and damn did it take my breath away, literally and figuratively. I’m still relatively new to hiking in general. Before today, I’d only ever knocked out one moderate hike and that was nearly three years ago down at Glacier National Park on the hunt for St. Mary and Virginia Falls. 10/10 recommend by the way, I wrote (briefly) about it here. The trek to Upper Viewpoint, however, was all uphill, which I’m finding to be a common theme in the mountains. Crazy.
Also, maybe I should try harder with box step-ups at the gym. But if you’re one of my coaches, pretend you didn’t read that.
Canada Parks has done such an excellent job with education along trails and at overlooks, as most national parks, I suppose. Unfamiliar with the Canadian Rockies in general, I find myself reading more of these signs than I typically would on a regular visit to a park stateside. So, if anyone wants to get nerdy with me, here’s a lil’ tidbit: The Peyto Lake was formed by Peyto Glacier which (if I’m wording it correctly) is an outflow of the Wapta Icefield. In a couple of the photos I share, you can see a giant sheet of ice in the top left corner of Peyto Lake, that’s the Peyto Glacier today. In the mid-1800’s, the glacier reached all the way to the lake. It’s wild to think in just another 150 years how little, if any, of that will be left. #SadIcePanda
MORAINE LAKE
Oh sweet, Moraine. There should be a song named after her. Maybe there is, I’m too tired to look into it right now. Moraine was my very first stop of the day and dang, she cute. Atop the Rockpile Trail, there is a huge open area where everyone flocks to for the one photo that proves they’ve been to Banff National Park. Today, I hiked to and took my own photo IRL because even though I don’t want to admit it, I have very basic white girl tendencies on the regular.
I did, however, hangout a lot longer than most people did. The same was true for Peyto. I’m sure I’ve been that person before.. just snap a pic and keep moving. But as someone who is really trying to be intentional with slowing down and gaining some sense of clarity in life, I’ve been trying to be more mindful to stop and smell the Canadian Wild Roses, which by the way, are edible. (A quick Google search tells me all roses are edible, I guess. TMYK.)
Anyway, in between wishing I could live in that water like some sort of Rocky Mountain Mermaid (come on, that has to be the perfect children’s book title) and deciding when I should continue on, I found myself observing others.
It wasn’t in a judging nature and I really wasn’t even listening to their conversations. I just took notice to everything.. to the accents, the languages, the different dynamics. A lot of the time, it made me smile. I found myself wondering what their purpose for visiting was, if it was just a regular-schmegular vacation or if they were searching for something, like me. I noticed some of the Instagram boyfriends loving their job and some wanting to throw the camera over the edge. I noticed the matriarchs of multi-generational families laughing while the gen-Z kid next to her held up a peace sign for their family photo that I assume will be sent out to 150+ people come Christmastime.
I could see who seemed to be enjoying themselves and who didn’t. I asked myself if I was enjoying myself. I tried to turn off the observation meter too but it’s difficult when everyone swarms to one of the most iconic desktop wallpapers known to mankind. What can I say, people-watching is fascinating and the view seems too out of this world to be on ours.
I can’t forget about the Shoreline Trail, that was my first route of the day and even though the view doesn’t compete with the other two stops, this was probably my favorite hike because of the solitude. I started out around 6:30 AM and aside from a couple of other people, it was peaceful. It was quiet. It was serene.
WAGON RIDES & GOOD SIDES
There’s really no better way to end the day than with a group of cowboys (and gals)! I found myself at a cowboy cookout with Banff Trail Riders this evening. One of my favorite parts of traveling in general but more specifically, solo, is the people I meet.
Tonight, I met a couple from Manitoba, around my age, and an older gentleman from Rhode Island. The four of us clicked right away and it made the evenings events and conversations that much more grand! Most people are fairly nice with their “hello’s” and “thank you’s” while venturing the world but every now and again, I get the chance to actually visit with people and those are typically my most treasured moments.
Our tour guide on the wagon ride was an Aussie who’d only been here a month and a half. When asked how she got here, she said that she’d grown up breeding and raising horses. A friend of hers encouraged her to throw applications out all over the world to learn more about horses in any capacity, so she did. Within the span of a couple of months, she got hired, got her visa, and found herself in staff housing along with 75ish other wanderlust souls with a passion for horses. It was so cool to hear about.
Wayne and Luke, two Belgium Draught horses, pulled us along Bow River to 3 Mile Cabin for a perfectly delicious steak dinner in the woods. I’m not really a steak girly but not only did I opt for a medium steak for the first time in my well-done life but I also devoured the coleslaw; something I’ve never been a fan of but dang was it good.
The evening concluded with a lesson in how to lasso, which I managed to successfully do! I’ll obviously be replacing Beth Dutton in Yellowstone’s final season but as a nicer version because I don’t naturally exude Beth energy. (P.S. There is video evidence of said roping but it’s embarrassing because I was stooopid surprised and excited that I actually did it, lol.)
Anyhow.. the conversations tonight were memorable. It was exciting to swap stories about adventures we’d each been on, sometimes to the same places and sometimes not. I found it so captivating to watch the faces of others light up when they talked about their passions and dreams. It felt like the dose of medicine I needed to fill my cup for the evening. It felt real and sincere and the opposite of surface level. I hope to hold on to that for a long time.
My alarm was set for 3:00 AM and I was ready for it, I’m certain I slept more last night than average. Usually, I’m watching the clock like Cinderella as it strikes midnight most evenings. My UBER aka Michelle, the Power Clean Queen, was prompt AF picking me up which should get an award in itself considering between the two of us, we have a habit of rolling into class at 5:33 AM.
5 out 5 stars, babe.
I wish I was writing the first part of this post from a more mountainous view or from a table that didn’t wobble like a toddler learning to walk. It’s a tish after 7:00 AM and I’m sitting in the very average Hector International Airport (Fargo) lounge. Why, you ask? Oh, honey..
For the first time in my relatively young traveling life, I had to completely cancel my initial flight and rebook with another airline. I was originally scheduled to depart at 5:30 AM but it was delayed and then delayed again.. and again. Eventually delayed so much that I’d miss my connection. The rebooking option through the airline would have been an eventual arrival of super duper late this evening.. Maybe. Thankfully, I was able to secure another flight combo with a different airline and final arrival time of only an hour later than I’d originally planned! PIVOT.
Remember a few paragraphs ago with Cinderella and the clock nearing the stroke of twelve? It’s me, hi. I’m the problem. It’s me. Or at least that’s how it feels today. Who knew Taylor would be so relatable? I’m finally at my hotel by some grace of Jesus himself (I say that with zero sarcasm whatsoever). It’s almost midnight mountain standard time, I think that puts me up for a solid 23 hours?
The delays didn’t stop after this mornings fiasco. Arriving in Denver was smooth sailing, a slight delay to my connection didn’t cause any alarms because I was still channeling #calmgirlenergy. A couple of hours and a bottle of water later, a power outage at the Calgary International Airport required us to sit on our plane for nearly two hours after landing before being able to de-board. STILL PIVOTING.
Customs was a breeze because I’m not a smuggler on accident or purpose but due to whatever freak outage the airport had, baggage claim was what nightmares are made of. Some folks present as calm (me) while some people are hollering at the carousels (me on the inside) and others are pacing back and forth trying to decide if every decision they’ve made up to this point was a mistake (also me). After nearly two hours of that, still with no baggage, I was about one minor inconvenience away from having a meltdown.
A call from my best pal provided some comic relief with a sprinkle of you’ve fucking got this. It was probably one of our shortest conversations ever but once it wrapped up and I turned around, there was my bag sliding off the belt. Interesting little moment there.
I can’t help but be reminded of something my mom has frequently said throughout my life; I’m sure many have heard the same and rolled their eyes: Everything happens for a reason.
This has come to be something that I reach for in moments of frustration or anxiousness as I’ve moved through life and it hits me again tonight. I wasn’t overly irritated with delayed flights or even having to go through the hassle of cancelling, rebooking, and unexpected expenses all before most people begin the work day. But I did find my limit or something close to it. I don’t know if I really was pissed off at the days events or more feeling out of control and unable to remedy it. When I lit an SOS signal to a friend, it was because I felt like I was spiraling on the inside, there was no solution to whatever the issues at hand were other than to just wait.
I can’t help but wonder the reason for it all though. My mind wanders into morbid territory and the stories of those from September 11th, whose flights were delayed or cancelled.. it could have been them. Or I think of the simple reasons of not having to deal with the cluster that is O’Hare in Chicago, what a blessing in itself that is. Maybe I needed to relinquish thinking I have to do this all alone and that it’s okay to ask for help, it’s okay to scream a little on the outside, who knows. Honestly, it could have just been a good teaching moment for the new guy as they did maintenance on the Bombardier CRJ200 or maybe some dumb kid screwed with a transformer (I don’t know if that’s how electricity works).
In this case, it doesn’t really matter now that I’ve found myself to where I’d hoped to be at the end of the day even if it’s eight hours later than planned. We’ll never know the reasons for many of the subsequent “why is this happening” questions of life but how we let it impact us is the underlying lesson, I’m sure.
Just as I wrapped up my previous post saying I was done waiting around, my entire day has been full of waiting. I wonder if it’s a foretelling of this solo adventure in seeking clarity and learning how to just be. God sure does have a fun sense of humor, doesn’t He?
The title of this post comes from something I overheard a father say to his two young boys as we de-boarded the plane earlier tonight. I don’t know how he managed to keep his kiddos entertained while we waited and based on their accent alone, I know their journey had been much longer than mine. Yet, when he saw the Canada sign, this is what he said to his two wound up, full of all the energy in the world, young boys! It was a single ray of sunlight and it made me smile.
I booked this trip less than a month ago. Who tf am I? There are people out there that know a version of me that couldn’t fathom booking and taking a trip with less than a month to prepare but that’s the thing about places and people and time, we only get to know versions of one another, whatever image we have of each other is that of which we knew them then.
It doesn’t account for the hard lessons learned or the triumphs won. It doesn’t consider the growth or the simple desire to wake up and try a little harder. It doesn’t think of the humility taught or the shame brought amongst it all. I’m just as guilty as the next in remembering people in a certain light and it bums me out when I catch myself not at least trying to give those I no longer know the benefit of growth.
Or maybe I was just method acting in those versions of me versus now. I guess we’ll never know.
Anyway, this isn’t supposed to be some philosophical speech. Moving on..
I’m sitting outside on a cool ass coral-orange egg-chair I recently purchased as I type the first part of this post. I’ve wanted a comfy lounge-y chair to curl up and read a book on my patio with for an eternity and a half but I always figured I needed a table and chairs out here. You know, for company.
Having seats for the rarity of company’s butts or not, this was a good decision. One I should have made years ago and one of a handful of steps I’ve recently been working on, keeping solely myself in mind. Something that is more rare than I’d like to admit, doing things for only me. Hang with me though, I don’t intend for this to be a selfish self-reflection.
As I sit here, Agnes is being a brave exploratory sneak by slinking tummy-to-ground all the way over to the neighbors patio as if it’s better than her own. For being such a scared-y cat, I don’t get it. Seriously, I can count on less than one hand how many people have ever had the chance to see her be comfortable, let alone actually pet her. Typically when anyone comes over, she bolts under the bed. Ask 99% of anyone.
Bodhi, on the other hand, who currently looks like Oliver Tree, was being a brat outside so he’s been locked away back indoors like Susanna from Girl, Interrupted. He’s staring at me through the window. Not gunna work, bud.
I leave for my next adventure in a few days, eeek! It’s one I’ve dreamt about for as long as I can remember and was amplified after a trip I’d taken a couple of years ago to somewhere similar. It’s one of those bucket list destinations that’s on a bazillion bucket lists, if there were that many people in the world. So while I’m not unique in that, I am making a dream come to fruition, and that’s the battle so many face; making our dreams come true.
I know it isn’t possible for many to make that happen, to chase something, or to even feel fulfilled. Lord knows I struggle with fulfillment. The goals and life I imagine for myself feel as impossible to achieve as traveling seems to other people. A few in my inner circle know what my deepest desired goals are. Those that don’t, would probably be surprised at the simplicity they evoke in comparison to the life I do live or the adventures I embark on.
But, someone told me years ago that we can only do what we can with what we have while we’re here. This is something I find myself in a constant state of reminder.
I’ve spent so much time, an embarrassing amount of time, waiting for people. Waiting to be loved the way I think I deserve to be. Waiting to be seen and understood the way I see and understand others. Waiting to be met where I am, just as I am. Waiting to know what’s next, to know which path I’m supposed to be on or which road I should be turning down. Waiting for my life to begin.. it’s become a perpetual season of Groundhogs Day, in a sense. The outcome of putting myself on the backburner to wait is typically the recurring theme.
But things are different this time around. This trips purpose is to muster the courage to break free of the waiting cage I’ve put myself in all these years. It reminds me of when I was a little girl.. I’d put myself in the corner without even being told, I think I’ve always been a self-punisher whether I deserved it or not and I’ve only recently been able to connect that to how I show up in relationships through my obsessive people-pleasing tendencies, through unresolved abandonment wounds, through putting myself second. I share that because I know I’m not the only one.
I don’t know how this trip will go emotionally, I don’t know what I’ll end up sharing or what I’ll withhold but what I do know is that for the first time in my life, I can genuinely say that I’m not waiting. I’m not waiting to figure out how to repair the trauma responses I have, instead of Band-Aid’ing them. I’m not waiting to take the next step, even if it means I might trip. I’m not waiting for someone to change their mind about me or waiting to see what’s around the corner anymore. If I mis-step, I mis-step. I’ll get my ass back up. If I take the wrong path, I’ll be directed.
I’ve never been a stranger to self-awareness and taking time to breathe or sort life out, but I’ve always had a difficult time truly letting go and surrendering. On this adventure and whatever follows, I’m just going to learn how to be and learn something from doing that.
xoxo -Ori
P.S. My favorite part of this entire post each year is sharing the cats-in-a-suitcase photo. Yes, BB got a haircut. Yes, he looks handsome. Yes, you agree.
I’ve always wanted to be a podcast girly but I’m not one that can throw it on while I work. If anything is halfway interesting, I’d need to focus on it, the same can be said about television shows or movies. And I don’t have drive time on the daily so other than the occasional talk radio, my exposure to podcasts has been more spotty than FM in the mountains.
I recently took to Instagram to ask for suggestions and was surprised at both the amount of responses and the variety, solidifying the fact that I am the last to arrive at the party! Better late than never, eh?
With that said, over the next week and a half, I’ve got quite a bit of flight time, layover time, and drive time. I plan to read and write as often as I can but I intend to sprinkle in a ‘cast or three as well with the hopes of getting hooked. It’d be nice to find a medium that isn’t endless scrolling on social feeds to fill the lulls of life when I return home.
Below is the full list of podcast recommendations I received from the peoples of Instagram and a handful IRL because people are cool like that (I hope I didn’t miss any!). These are all linked through Spotify because that’s how I’ll be listening and I know I won’t even make a dent in this list but it’s an awesome start for a newb like me.
If you’re looking for something new too, I hope you enjoy! Cheers to embarking on another adventure (or trying new things) no matter how big or small!
List of Podcast Recommendations:
You’re Wrong About – reconsidering a person or event that’s been miscast in the public imagination
RadioLab – asking deep questions and use investigative journalism to get the answers (eps 2015-2017)
Huberman Lab – science and science-based tools for everyday life
99% Invisible – exploration of the process and power of design and architecture (Oklahoma City ep)
Heart of Dating – unmask the ever so ambiguous world of dating in the Christian world
I miss the way my hand felt in yours and the way your thumb would softly trace the outside of mine, near a birthmark I have on my left hand. My mom has one similar to it. I bet you didn’t know that.
It pains me to now realize all the things you likely don’t know about me, the things you never bothered to inquire about, my history. What made me the way I am, who impacted me most, who hurt me, who made me feel alive.
I miss the night I had a feeling deep inside me that felt like you were made for me. We were leaving a comedy show and you were leading the way, my hand was in yours. You never forgot me then. It felt like a sign from God, to be led by a man.
I miss the inside jokes, the way one of your eyes is always a little more open than the other when you smile, and when you do smile, how it’s always to the side. A smirk. You’re a smirker.
I miss the thank you’s and the good mornings; I miss the sweetness and the kindness I felt with you. I miss day dreaming about the future we didn’t actually get to plan.
I miss the patience you had when you’d bring me fishing, teaching me something you were so passionate about. I miss the bluntness you exhibited when you had an opinions and how you somehow managed to deliver it with tact, most of the time.
I miss listening to you tell me stories about days that are now gone and even though I’d heard them more times than you remember telling them to me, I miss listening eagerly because I enjoyed the way it lit up your entire face to reminisce.
I miss loving you, pouring into you.
But I don’t miss any of it either because it hurts too much to miss you. To miss us, whatever it was or maybe even whatever it wasn’t. I don’t miss that I chronically focus on the good and allowed the avoidance of difficult conversations. I don’t miss that I give the benefit of the doubt by assuming everyone is trying to work on themselves like I am. I don’t miss the anxiousness when I felt alone or the sadness I felt when I wondered if we were even compatible.
I don’t miss the times I should have challenged you but chose not to. I don’t miss being forever accommodating. And most of all, I don’t miss the isolating fear or the gut-wrenching pain in my heart I felt when we hung up from our last phone call ever.
I need to keep busy because I’m afraid of what a quiet mind will do to me. I need to keep scrolling, not to relish in the joys of others or to learn.. but as punishment. I need to have plans because I don’t want to feel the sad that is slowly seeping out. I need to be okay because no one can actually deal with the broken versions of me.
But the busy has quieted and my mind has been restless. The excuses are starting. That’s the thing with sadness and me, is it doesn’t come as suddenly as the impact does. The wound so deep that initially, I chalk it up to a dream. I pull myself from the wreckage, full of adrenaline.. and denial.
Repeat. Reuse. Recycle. The busy. The scrolling. The plans.
Eventually that wears off too and reality sets in as if it’s some sort of fucked up twelve-step program I didn’t agree to be a part of. I suppose that’s grief though, yeah? The busy has quieted and I tell people I’m choosing my time wisely, doing what I want to do when I want to do it rather than being accommodating to everyone else. I think that’s true, mostly. Or it’s an excuse to withdraw.
I can’t tell.
Instead of choosing my time wisely, I’m still scrolling endlessly. I’m wasting away on the non-busy through the television or through sporadic cleaning or somehow through nothing at all but at least I’m doing it with the shades drawn.
Out of sight, out of mind. Right?
I’m not reading. I’m not feeling. I’m not sharing. I’m not talking. I’m not coping. I’m not healing. I’m not writing. At least I don’t think I am, or it doesn’t feel like I am.
I say I’m afraid of what a quiet mind will do to me, but really, I’m afraid of what the reality of alone looks like. Definite. Isolated. Deafening. Painful. And most of all.. it feels as forever as forever could feel.
You’re seven years old today, holy crapoli! You also informed me that it’s President’s Day too but just this year. Next year, it won’t be because of how calendars work.
There was no school today and as a kid, I think it’d be a bummer to not be at school on your birthday but I hope your class celebrated lucky number 7 before the weekend by singing to you! And I’m very curious to hear how hosting your first sleepover went too, I hope it was full of little girl giggles, silly shenanigans, and a million games of Guess Who!
Sweet EB, I do think this will be the last post I pour my heart into on your birthday, specifically, but I want you to know it isn’t because my love for you ever fades. I’ve said this many times in the past and I’m sure I’ll say it again throughout the rest of my life, but the day you were born, you changed the trajectory of how I saw my future and you became a reason to stand up when I couldn’t do it for myself alone. It was hard to admit that for a long long time but now you’re seven which is basically a whole bunch and in those seven years, not only have you grown into a gregarious and fun little artist but I’ve grown too.. out of the scary areas I’d hidden behind and away from the band-aid-covered wounds I’d covered up.
I hope you read the essays I’ve written to you one day and learn that it’s a beautiful thing to not be my reason anymore because in watching you become the very whirly wacky, but always loving, and sometimes emotional little Pisces lady that you are; you gave me the courage to stand on my own, alone. And I know, even though I don’t want you to have to deal with it, you’ll probably have some yucky struggles to go through in your own life at some point too. But I’m hopeful that you can find the sunshine I found in you through the years I’ve written to you the way I have because it’s brighter than any ray of a rainbow we’ve ever seen together.
You are one of my favorite heroes, Em. You saved my life in ways I’ll never be able to put into words, and I’m so stinking proud of the seven year old girl that I get to watch grow up into an eight year old and then a 12 year old and even a 33 year old, like me. You’re a goof ball and you’re brave. You’re sometimes scared and sometimes sad and that’s okay. You have big feelings like me, have the best time creating your next masterpiece in grandmas living room, and loves kittens so stinkin’ much!
When you were six, you went on your first big adventure with grandma and me. We did a great big circle around North Dakota, South Dakota, and up through part of Minnesota. You explored so many new things and saw places you probably won’t even remember, you were fearless and honestly a little tired. You wanted ice cream every day, it was your motto. You went on a train ride, dug for gold, and took a ski lift to see Mount Rushmore. You even visited Livy and Legend! I owe you a story or three yet on that trip, I’ll get to it, I will. Your gift for seeing the world just as it is without the overlay of grown-up responsibilities gives me goosebumps to watch it unfold in real-time!
Emma, you are one of life’s greatest adventures and while this may be my last official birthday post to you where I write and write and write some more, you bet your little chicken butt that I’ll probably write to you again. It’ll just be a surprise as to when! I hope year number seven is supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! xoxo! -Love, Auntie Ori
We’re nearly a third of the way through January and I’m barely finding the time (or energy) to pull together this recap post. I know, I know.. I don’t have to do it, but my future self will appreciate it. I have enough memory gaps in my childhood without understanding the reason, so, if I can’t help out 2032 Ori on reminiscing about the good ol’ days, Imma do it.
2022 will be the year that I took a step back from the socials and the updates and the blogs without intention and I feel indifferent about it. Instagram has always been my preferred media of choice and I’ve often used it as a highlight reel of the year but I barely paid it attention, which is fine, I know. And Facebook has never been privy to much of my life so that didn’t change but I also didn’t chronicle my travels this year, like I’d planned. It’s usually one of my favorite things to look back on and I don’t have that this year.
While I know there are a few that have been faithful readers for years, I opted to just be in the here and now more than I have at any other point in my adult life. Though, a piece of me does feel like I’ve let both myself and others down by not documenting more moments on the two big trips I took in 2022. Or in the exciting times I had with the people I adore.
But for the sake of vulnerability and a dash of self-reflection, the two greatest contributing factors to me taking a step back from sharing much publicly in 2022 were: depression and love.
Ope, didn’t see ya there..
I’m not sure even the closest people in my life were aware of my hardest moments this year, which is probably normal. Ori is my name and people-pleasing is my game. So, even when well-intentioned loved ones do check in, it’s rare that I’d dare to share what’s actually going on. The feeling of being a burden isn’t unique to me and I know many people that read this can relate to that.. Choosing to keep the darkest feels at hearts length because you don’t want to bother anyone, or maybe you feel like they are only checking in out of pity, or maybe you just don’t have the words to properly articulate what’s going on because.. does anyone really “understand?”
I take full accountability for keeping some things in when I should have maybe shared or reached out but I also am debilitatingly aware of my presence in other’s lives and have a difficult time wondering why people would care the way that I do about them. But that’s a story for another day that’ll probably never be told. ;)
At the start of the year, I left my decade-long career with my previous employer and started anew. Contrary to the endless #GreatRecession TikToks I’ve seen since, it hasn’t been rainbows and butterflies like the media portrays but “it’s a job and it pays the bills,” as they say. I wish I was one of those people who could just let that prior sentence be accurate but I don’t operate like that. I take pride in the work I do, I strive to do a kickass job in every interaction I take professionally, and I will be the first to admit that I have no idea if I made the right choice by jumping ship but until I figure that out, I’ll continue to put my best foot forward. I half-wonder if any current co-workers will stumble upon this and be surprised to read that but I need to remind myself that I’m not the same co-worker in this new posting as I was in the previous, I’ve made an active effort to not let people in.
The perfect compliment to hiking up a mountain without a map is to fall flat on your face when you finally figured out which way North was. (I live for a good analogy. Hopefully it’ll make sense here in a second.)
In April, I broke my foot while jumping rope because what doesn’t say “good job on prioritizing your health” than a big fuck you from the whip of a cable. Cue the “Everything is fine” meme because #relatable.
If I had to pinpoint a turning point in the year, this was definitely it. While starting a new job and juggling the hassles of that, being confined to the apartment that I live in alone without the ability to walk for an undetermined amount of time brought on an incredible case of loneliness and self-pity, if I’m being real honest. I wrote about some of it here but the rest will be a segment of memories that I wouldn’t be bothered to forget.
Rummikub, anyone?
Alight, this actually is getting depressing, ha! One thing I battle with when writing is to write *literally* all of the things and thoughts and feelings out but I still want to maintain a sense of privacy and self among it all so I’m sure I’ll re-write some of the above and below a half dozen times before deciding to publish. I’ve considered making my blog completely private in order give myself more creative expression, without fear of what others will think or assume. But at the same time, throughout my life, written (and sung) words are the single thing I resonate with most and if something I ever say could have the power to resonate with someone in return, encourage someone, or help someone feel seen when no one else could see them, I’ve done something right.
While great chunks of 2022 were filled with tears and Sunday Scaries, I won’t remember it that way because once I was able to walk again, I made every effort to bring my favorite quote to life and I think I managed to do just that.
“Stay close to people who feel like sunlight.”
I spent a lot of the last year falling in love and understanding it in a way I’d never understood to be real before. This is true in both in romantic sense and in the relationship I have with myself. For the sanctity of the life we are building, those pockets full of sunshine will remain treasures our own but I will share that I feel a great sense of gratitude, admiration, and security to be cared for by someone who encourages me to just be myself, listens to me even when I am being ridiculous, and challenges me in ways that we all need in order to grow. And I hope that’s a reciprocated feeling between us.
The double-deuce year also yielded new friendships that I’m excited to nurture and watch thrive in 2023! Over the last handful of years, I found myself to be completely and unapologetically content with having few close friendships and sometimes even none. A part of me still finds that admirable but I’ve also began to invite people in with intention. For many years, I let the hurts of others be the reason not to trust that friendships were a prerequisite to living a fulfilling life but as I enter the year of my mid-30’s, I’m finding that they actually are quite instrumental; the key is to finding the ray of sunshine instead of the dust that settles in between.
That’s not to say I’m on any sort of mission to have a jam-packed calendar, ew. The introvert in me still requires decompress time on a daily basis.. But I’m in a place for the first time in my life, on the friend front, that I’m full of more #feelgoods in my heart than I’ve ever been used to and a large part of that is due to those that I’ve let in and surrounded myself with; old and new.
What is this post about again?
This always happens.. I finally decide to write and it’s 33 miles long. I might regret this but instead of rambling on for another hour and detailing out all the goods on the list that follows, it’ll remain just that: a list. In no particular order, these are the reminders that made my year full, my self-awareness present, and my heart glow. Sprinkled in between are plenty of days where I called my best friend just to bitch, nights where I didn’t feel understood, and a really rough but impactful 10 days with my youngest niece. 2022 was mellow in comparison to years past but I liked it that way. Enjoy.
BAKED ALL THE GOODS
VISITED THE BLACK HILLS
EXPLORED THE PEACE GARDEN
TOOK A POTTERY CLASS
MADE TIME FOR FAMILY TIME
TRIED OUT SINGLE MOM LIFE W/ PJ
BROUGHT EM ON VACA
MET THE PARENTS
TASTED OKRA AND LAMB AND CALAMARI
CELEBRATED 1 YEAR WITH THE MAN I LOVE
CELEBRATED 1 YEAR AT STRONG ROOTS
TRUSTED IN GOD MORE
PACKED A PICNIC
WENT SHOOTING
BROKE A BONE AND HAD A PE (10/10 DO NOT RECOMMEND)
CELEBRATED LOVE (FRIENDS WEDDINGS)
STOPPED DRINKING
STARTED A COOKBOOK
BROUGHT DAD TO ALAN JACKSON
WENT HYPER BOWLING
SAW ELEVATION WORSHIP
BECAME A FISHERLADY, KINDA
STARTED A NEW JOB
WENT UP THE NORTH SHORE
TRIED GOAT YOGA
GOT SEASICK
STARTED A CAT INSTA (+REDDIT)
WENT TO SUMMER CAMP, AGAIN
STARTED GIVING LESS OF A SHIT
GOT CRAFTY
DIDN’T WEAR A COWBOY HAT IN MEDORA
CELEBRATED A SWEET 16 IN PUNTA CANA
GOT PAID TO CREATE
TRIED JAMBALAYA AND EDAMAME AND MORE
TRIED GOLFING, SORTA
SWAM WITH A SHARK + SNORKLED
+SO MUCH MORE
Well, I suppose I better wrap this up. If you made it this far, you might as well reward yourself with a recap sans words below. If you were in my 2022, I loved you for it and thank you.
Dang does it feel like an eternity since I’ve been excited to write about something. I blame the two-year-pandemic-blues. To be fair, I’ve written in the last couple of years but more out of self-induced obligation than for the thrill of it.
This years pre-trip feels has me jazzed to the roof because this is the very first trip that I’m bringing my eldest niece, Emma, along for the ride! My mom and I take a trip every year. We’ve been doing this since 2015 so not only does this year mark lucky number seven but our favorite six-year-old gets to join us! And honestly, I’m not sure who’s more excited between us three.
Emma hasn’t been further than a stones throw from home, that I know of. Maybe a four-hour jaunt at the most so not only is this going to be an adventure with a kiddo in the vehicle for a nice chunk of time but it’ll be so fun to show her things and places and people that she’s never even dreamed of in that incredible imagination of hers. Or maybe she has, she is pretty bright.
I made up a couple of personalized BINGO cards for us to play at the end of each day. The goal is to get a blackout on every single one because every image is a clipart copy of something we’ll see in our fun-filled days. (Kudos to my mom for the idea!) The maybe-even-cooler part is that there are prizes for playing the game!
I think it’s never too young to start teaching kids about money management because Lord knows they don’t teach it in school. So, because yours truly loves budgeting, I’m hoping to teach EB about numbers and how math does, in fact, translate to real life. I’ll give her a little spending cash at the start of our trip in a “wallet” that she gets to decorate along our travels.
Each BINGO card she completes comes with a cash prize and each day she’ll have an opportunity to earn additional monies. This could be as simple as re-packing her suitcase as we’re getting ready to leave the hotel to having good listening ears throughout the day. The best part is that she’ll get to spend her dolla dolla bill yas she’s earned however she sees fit and get to play the game of life when it comes to deciding what to spend her money on.
I think this is a much better model than I (as an adult) determining what is worthy of saying yes or no to. I might not see the point in buying three sets of marbles and a light up pen that is six times cheaper at the Dollar Tree but she does and as lead contender for auntie of the year, I’m not about to burst that bubble.
I’m not sure how my writing will go during this trip, in that I mean I’m not sure to who or what tense it’ll be written in. We’ll see. We’re staying a lot closer to “home” which essentially means we’re venturing off to our neighboring states for this exploration but I think that I may chronical this one to Emma for her to look back on and read later in life.
A few years back, she and I had a “Staycation” together for about a week and re-reading about it last week made my eyes swell and my heart grow. She was so little then and full of more life than most 30-year-olds, myself included. Now, she’s three times that age and three times the girl; full of energy and ideas and damnit, she’s funny. I’m excited to watch her learn new things and experience a little part of this world first hand. I feel so lucky to be her auntie and for her parents to give me (and her and my mom) this opportunity to share my love for adventure and my never-ending feeling of wanderlust.
1 more sleep!
P.S. Did you think I was going to forget about my yearly cat-in-a-suitcase photo? Yeah right. That’s the highlight of the Pre-Trip Feels post!
By definition, “impending doom” is the feeling of knowing that something life-threatening or tragic is about to occur. When I first heard the term, I thought it was an awfully dramatic way to describe something until, that is, I experienced it first-hand and couldn’t find the words appropriate to explain what had happened.
On a rainy Tuesday evening a few weeks back, I felt an acute case of impending doom. I’m sharing here for three reasons, of which, only one is borderline selfish:
In hopes that you literally cannot relate because you’ll never experience it (fingers crossed!)
That if you do, you’ll take action sooner than I did, rather than waiting
As an outlet for my tired, cooped up, kind-of-feeling-sorry-for-myself self
I’ve journaled about this for weeks with intentions on posting something but I kept thinking of reasons not to. While I’d receive a standing ovation for self-induced pity in the privacy of my home when the world is quiet and the room is dark, I do not, under any circumstances, want anyone else to pity me. Gross, get outta here! But, it keeps eating at me to write it out so that’s what I’m gonna do..
In early April, I broke my foot while practicing jumping rope at the gym. Anyone that knows me at Strong Roots knows my hate/hate relationship with the damn rope. But I try and try and try again. When I first started in mid-2021, I’d end the jump-rope-workouts in tears at pure frustration in my inability to figure a child’s game out but over time, it began to click and I even purchased my own rope a few months back. I, by no means, have ever excelled at jumping rope but it’s the one area of my fitness life that I saw progress. Now, I don’t know if I’ll ever muster the courage to jump rope again. (Oh, the drama!) But we’ll save that trauma to unload another day.
When I was a kid, I used to ride my bicycle a lot. We lived in the country and the driveway was long. It was always a race to see who could get from the house to the mailbox most days. Until one Mother’s Day, I fell and broke my arm. I knew I’d broken it but we didn’t go in to have it checked out until the next morning. To this day, I remember the pain I was in when I woke up. I had a cloud-themed bedroom, like one millennial girl with her head in the clouds does, and I remember wishing I could just be in those clouds and not feel that pain anymore.
That experience has many parallels to this new break. I hadn’t originally planned to go to the doctor. Even though it felt like someone was taking two steel plates made for compressing things and that’s what the weight of my body and the earth was doing to the bones in my foot, I wasn’t going to go in. I had work to do. Things to see. A life to live. Similar to the “humorous” story of my youth; it was Mother’s Day, a damn near national holiday. We weren’t going in.
But the persuasion and kindness of a friend led me to urgent care even at my best “I’m sure it’s fine” resistance.
Breakdown numero uno happened in the silent moments when the doctors office was just four walls and myself, waiting for them to find a boot and crutches after confirming I’d broken my 5th metatarsal, commonly known as a Jones Fracture, and I’d have to be non-weightbearing for 6+ weeks. Keep it together. You’re 32 years old for Christs’ sake, I’d think to myself. You’ve been through worse. Right?
Why, even now, are we still so conditioned to be stoic? I’m far from that to anyone that has known me for more than five minutes of time but as an adult, I’m still so afraid to let someone see me emotionally or mentally weak. In fear of what? That they’ll see me for who I am? I think the reality of it is we, or at least I, have this innate fear that someone will form their opinion of me in a single interaction and keep it forever.
Which, may not be untrue, but why is there so much societal pressure to want people to like or see us as we are? When we don’t even let people see our true selves to begin with during initial interactions. It’s probably not even societal, it might be more instinctual. And who cares if the nurse down a random hallway in a sterilized room of Sanford thinks I’m a wuss. Transcribing these ramblings weeks later, I wouldn’t even be able to spot her in a crowd.
I didn’t know this then, but the days that followed the break were worse than the day it happened. Not only has it taken a lot of emotional adjusting and physical coordination to navigate life in the solo foot gang, but almost suddenly one evening, my calf began hurting to an excruciatingly painful degree. A pain felt so deep in my leg to the point that I couldn’t feel the break in my foot, if you can imagine.
This persisted throughout the weekend and into the following week. I’d been prescribed some pain meds when I initially went to the doctor but they weren’t even a little bit helping. I Google-searched my way down a death rabbit hole like the internet doctor that I am and tossed around the idea of “what if it’s this” for a few days.
Fast-forward our cute little scoot-scootin’ self to Tuesday night, I found myself feeling that impending doom that started this post out.
I’d finished dinner late that evening and went to bed kind of early (this was a new normal). But not long after, I’d got up to go to the bathroom. There, I literally felt like I was going to die. I was freezing but sweating profusely. The room was a combination of spinning in a way I’d never felt even on my drunkest of evenings and at the very same time, not being able to see; tunnel vision to a degree, I suppose. Every breath I took, I felt like I was gasping for air. Impending doom was the term used by the ER doctor after explaining my symptoms for the third time later that evening.
I’d never felt anything like it and I hope I never do again, but briefly, I felt like I was going to die right there and then in the bathroom of my apartment, alone. I need to check with my mom but I remember a story about my grandpa when he was near the end of his life. If my memory serves me correctly, my grandma found him in the bathroom. I can’t help but wonder if he felt that same feeling of impending doom in there, alone.
I didn’t realize this until days later, but my energy had been depleting significantly from the onset of the pain until my hospital visit. I hadn’t slept more than three hours without waking up, for over a weak. The pain in my calf was unbearable, I can’t find another word to accurately describe it. I just felt so helpless to it all.
Ultimately, that feeling itself was determined a vasovagal attack. Something that is quite common and typically triggered by a stressor of some kind. This could be as painless as “the sight of blood” to as substantial as your body attacking itself from within in the form of pain or something to that effect.
This vasovagal attack made itself front and center alerting me to a deep vein thrombosis (DVT) or a blood clot in my leg. That agony I’d been experiencing hadn’t been some sort of extended swelling due to breaking my foot. It was an unfortunate side effect to my left leg/foot being completely immobile (doctors orders) due to the break. Left untreated, a DVT can break apart and spread to your lungs, commonly known as a pulmonary embolism. This is a life-threatening condition that can eventually spread to your brain and rupture when not caught in time and taken care of.
This is the purpose for my post. The blood clot in my leg likely formed on or before the onset of the calf pain I’d been experiencing. I ignored that pain for DAYS. It started on Friday and I didn’t go in until late Tuesday evening. By that time, I’d had to suffer through a vasovagal attack and the clot had spread to my lung resulting in a PE. I’d like to think if I’d acted sooner and listened to my body, not only could the clot have been caught and PE have been prevented but the ultimate hospital stay, dozens of tests, and thousands of dollars worth of insurance claims could have been avoided.
I’m wholeheartedly grateful for my brother to have brought me in and stayed with me for so long in the hospital, for the medical staff that figured out all the things, and for the incredible people in my life who have loved me and taken care of me through all of this when I felt like crawling into a hole and never coming out. I can’t begin to fathom being without a single person that has been with me through it or to be without healthcare or the flexibility to work from home during this time. I know I’m blessed beyond measure with my circumstance and that doesn’t go unnoticed.
My time in the solo foot gang with my trusty side-kick Scoot Scoot isn’t over. I’m in week five of sixish weeks praying every day for a healed bone come my next podiatry appointment. I’ve been a roller-coaster of emotions throughout this whole ordeal, as those close to me can attest. In a wild way, it feels like the beginning of the panini press; stay at home, can’t really go anywhere, shit like that. The difference is that it’s just me this time around, not the whole world. As if everyone is still moving and I’m, quite literally, staying still. But it’ll be fine. Home stretch, or whatever.
I know I have a long road of physical therapy once I get the go-ahead to bear weight again and I’m sure I’ll be rocking a boot for much longer than I’d like to but I’ve made it through the hardest parts! I survived the break and the drama of the doom that followed. I’ve had to make life adjustments in ways that I don’t enjoy but there’s also been some sweet blessings along the way.
I’ve been witness to a genuine sense of care and love that I’d never experienced from so many people. From the simplest things like taking out the trash and stopping for lunch mid-week to fun nights in with friends and simply making me laugh to forget about it all; it’s felt and seen and adored by me and I’m so thankful.
Hug your loved ones a little closer when you see them next and know that it’s okay to let them take care of you once in awhile. Not only do we all need to feel needed from time to time but we all need to be cared for too.
I urge you to listen to your body when it’s telling you that you’re not okay or you need to make a change. Don’t wait for a sign to save your life. I hope it goes without saying that this message is for all the things, not just physical health. Don’t let whatever excuse you have hold you back from your next step. Procrastinating is only harming yourself.
I’m writing this many-months post trip and I’ll keep it brief. I ventured off to the island of the Dominican Republic to a very well known hot spot, Punta Cana mid-January. I took this trip with my aunt Amber and cousin Navy. We celebrated Nav’s 16th birthday there!
I went into this trip knowing I wasn’t going to blog. We had a single destination and indented to just see where the waves took us. Literally. Thinking back, I kind of wish I had journaled at least a little bit because it’s crazy to me how quickly the little moments fade.
My favorite parts were being in the sunshine and watching it rise.. Wading in the water whether it be a pool, a lazy river, or the ocean itself. The resort was beautiful and the restaurants were top notch.. We met some of the best tour guides, snorkeled with sharks (kinda), and enjoyed cocktails on a sandbar in the middle of the ocean. I hope I don’t lose the feeling of those very best moments as the years slip by.
I did struggle a little living with 2 other females for 10 days. It was a lot and I think we all felt it. I grew up in a home of boys and with a mom that wasn’t interested in the drama of it all. Truthfully, most of my best friends in life have usually been male or less-than-girly females. It was just a new environment for me and it taught me some good lessons to bring home.
With all of that said, now that we are many moons past the vaca itself and I’m mostly recording this for a reel for myself later, the posts that follow will be pulled from my Instagram, captions and all. They’ll display a little bit of our adventure but the rest will just have to remain lock and key in our memories!
In true Minnesota-girl fashion, born full of passive-aggressive tendencies but mostly passive because Minnesota Nice and don’t cha know and insert whatever other colloquialism seems noteworthy.. if I could describe 2021 in a single phrase, it’d be “that’s different.” So eloquent, I know. And a run-on sentence if you ever did see one.
But for realz yo, 2021 hit different, or so the kids say. I think. This was the first year of my life that trying to keep up with the new trend of stupid-ass phrases proved to be more difficult than seemed worth it and I think that means that I’m officially an old person or at least an old millennial. I’m cool with that though. My 30’s are proving to be better than my 20’s could have ever imagined.
Hell, I even needed to listen to a podcast to try to define the word cheugy. I think, by definition, this blog post would be considered cheugy. Us old folk would maybe say “cringey” when the prior generation tried too hard to be cool but like, we do it in the most ironic intentionally hilarious way knowing we’re butchering things so.. who’s really winning here? #bet #thatslaps #bigyikes #whydontwestilltalkinhashtags
Are Ugg boots still in?
Crocs and Carhartt made a killing in the fashion game this year, it seems. I never did own a pair of Uggs though, then or now. I’m a knockoff purchaser when it comes to most things that retail over $70 and I’d consider that a personality trait like one does in the dating app scene bragging that quoting Super Bad is their best quality. Cool bro but I’m not about that life. I just like a good deal and who tf cares if you’re wearing Birks for $130 or White Mountain for $25?
I learned so many weird things this year like Snapchat is primarily used present-day to see how long you can make a streak last but can also be one of the biggest mind games ever where kids intentionally leave you unread. It’s literally the opposite of being “left on read” but just as manipulative.
I used to think that I needed my two whittle kittens (aka a full grown chunk monster and a honey bunny lil’ lady) for companionship to combat loneliness living as a single lady and while that is still likely true in many instances, I think they rely on my presence more than they’d dare admit. After working from home for nearly two years, they lose their shit if I’m gone more than a few hours. Or, Heaven forbid, someone else gets my attention for a day or two.. Those kids are glued to me for days afterwards like melted marshmallows on a paper plate.
This year, I found out that I’ve been using and abusing “right on red” incorrectly for my entire driving career. That was a mind-blowing realization. Oops to everyone that’s ever driven with me. Red is the new blonde, I guess.
Oh! And fun fact, there are protein shakes out there that do not taste like chalk. What a world we live in, eh?!
Still with me?
This past year really was different though. Not in all the best ways but not in all the bad either. For me personally, it was a year of slow meditative growth. Nothing like a bean sprout in it’s first few weeks but more like the succulent I purchased two seasons ago that sits on my living room coffee table. I thought it always remained the exact same but a quick photo search proved me wrong. Slow, beautiful growth.
2021 required me to stop forcing things and to instead draw life right where I was at. To focus on the present, the joy in the moment, and relationships just as they were; nothing more, nothing less. The last year has reminded me to trust in whatever wacky and windy road God has me on. I embraced four left turns for months, driving circles around what-if’s until I forgot what I was what-ifing. I felt incredibly alone for a period of time this summer, crying my angry self to sleep for weeks thinking I’d never understand the why behind situations that were outside of my control. Until one day, I didn’t.
I laughed so hard I thought I’d pee my pants this year and I loved so hard I knew I’d never be able to let go. I tried things I’d come to fail at and found myself getting up the next day to try again. I refused to give up in moments I knew I wasn’t able to succeed in because even then I knew quitting wasn’t an option to my past, present, or future self. Or to my nieces.
I’m telling you this because even in the filtered lives we all find ourselves in in some capacity, it’s not as peachy keen as it looks. 2021 was shit in a lot of ways but it was also the shit in more ways. I stopped pretending life was better than it was on social media about four years ago but since then, I elected to be more private than public with most people; this still unintentionally provides the illusion that life is great when it’s not always.
A good friend of mine reminds me quite often that there are three things you shouldn’t discuss with the majority: your personal life, your finances, and your next move. A good lesson passed on that I hope to share with you as you read this and one I’ve taken to heart this year more than ever. Though, I do tweak a little because my blog is probably much more personal than it should be but it’s cleverly curated to withhold the real good stuff that makes my heart light up.
Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century
With that being said, here is a list of my top 21 things, people, and places that made my year in 2021! How. Frickin’. Cute. (And in no particular order, obviously, but this is long so I won’t be super mad if you skip to the end. But if you find yourself looking for a solid read, you’re welcome. Maybe.)
In The Name of the Father – God has been one of the few constants in my life this year. And while no huge mountains were moved (that I can see), I know my trust in Him is more sure than ever as I round out the year. I only attended in-person church a few times in 2021 but found my home with Cornerstone Chapel in Virginia online and through the BEMA Podcast. I hope to find a local church again, to bring that same sense of fire I once felt and to build community but this year was much more quiet. A comfortable quiet with big prayers. Some of my favorite faith filled highlights included: BEMA on a Boat, IF: Gathering, Bible Studies with Pastor G, and being more intentional than ever with prayer for others.
FamilyBo Bamily – There are not enough ways I could ramble on about the love and appreciation I have for my family. I know we can’t choose our relatives and a lot of people will gripe over that come the holiday season but I’m fortunate to call some of the best people in this world my family. My favorite moments from this year were spent with those I’ve known my entire life and I wouldn’t trade it for a single second of something else.
All The Healths – This year I lost nearly 50 pounds, I donated 5 pints of whole blood and recently started donating platelets weekly to help others with their health. I volunteered for Meals on Wheels through work to bring a smile to those that don’t see very many. Between taking the scary jump of looking into reproductive options at the start of the year to exploring different types of nutrition routines and allowing in various forms of therapy, this year was one for the books in all the healths.
Lift Heavy Shit – While I thought about lumping this together with #3, I knew it deserved it’s own shout out. The year started with an online-esque personal trainer and morphed into trying out hot yoga, pilates, and long walks around my neighborhood. But, I found my home at Strong Roots and fell in love with this lil’ thing called Crossfit. I know, I know. You’ve heard about it and probably joked that it’s a cult. And honestly, even if it were, that’s fucking cool because the community that I have found at SR and within the Crossfit world over the last year and a half have been crucial to my growth as a strong, fearless woman, as a teammate, and as a friend. The 5:30 a.m crew has seen the ugliest parts of me but they’ve also seen my greatest achievements and loved me through it all. I attended my first comp as a spectator, visited gyms with friends, and tackled my first (scaled) Murph this year. I’m grateful for the people I’ve come to know and am looking forward to lifting more heavy shit in 2022!
Out East – This trip was chronicled by yours truly. If ya wanna read about it and see some pretty pictures, click here!
Good People – From tubing down Detroit Mountain and early morning coffee dates.. to an ugly sweater Christmas party, a shrimp boil, and lots of sunshine pontoon time.. To hangover brunches, birthday’s, bachelorette parties, and weddings! First dates were had, baby showers were thrown, and gender reveals were attended. After work dinner with tacos and margs made midweek blues turn around. Work trips with colleagues turned friends and ladies night by the fire with people that I’ll forever admire. From throwing clay in an old pals basement and getting messy over good conversation with wings and beer, these are a few of my favorite things that I did with some of the best people a girl could ask for this year. (Yes, that kinda rhymed. No, I’m not changing it.)
Vroom Vroom – I took my stab of a try at learning how to ride this year. After binge-watching SoA the better part of Q1 and feeling inspired AF by a few Harley lovin’ people, I knew I wanted to take a ride on the wild side and find myself on two wheels! I took the rider safety class mid-summer and for the first time in my life learned how to ride a motorcycle. Unfortunately, I didn’t pass the skill portion this time around but heading into another spring might be the ticket!
COVID-19 – Yup, the ‘vid got me this year. I survived.
A Handsome Fella – I’ve had my fair share of “wtf am I doing” over the last few years trying to figure out the dating scene in the 21st century but I just so happened to land on one of the good ones and I feel pretty darn lucky about it. Worthy of someone good always, but lucky nonetheless. Thinking about our first date and the time we’ve spent together since makes me feel all kinds of special.
Sisters N’ Faith – That’s an attempted play on Salt N’ Pepa because why not, ha! There are two very important women in my life who have given me more grace than I deserve and have been fierce prayer warriors in my world and (I hope), I in theirs. While life and distance gets in the way of a different kind of friendship, the long meaningful conversations we’ve had in various fashions has been crucial in solidifying my faith in God’s path and our friendship with one another.
North Shore – Year six of trips with mom came and went so quickly. We didn’t cross off a new state this time around but we found ourselves all the way up the North Shore of MN. The weather was a little bit of a drag but looking back at it now, it reminds me to take more time to slow down and really treasure these types of memories. I remember being in my head about some things during that trip and I didn’t take the opportunity to be as present with and around my mom as I should have been. This is a reminder to myself to do better.
Emma May – EB (embot) celebrated the big handful this year jumping to her little girls delight at Northern Air in Grand Forks! Her personality and sense of self has been blooming like the prettiest of flowers. She’s got sass and attitude that’ll give her dad a run for his money as she ages and she’s got a heart bigger than any of us on our best of days.
Petty Jane – This little love bug of a girl made me an auntie times two! It’s been such an indescribable feeling watching my brothers become parents. My heart grew three times the day she was born. Watch me gush about her in text format here!
Bestie Life – I might cry writing this one so I’ll try to keep it short. I have two best friends in my life; one I’ve known for a few years but our relationship has grown tenfold and another I’ve known for much less time. I count my blessings on a very regular basis and every single time, I count these two very first and very last. I’ve never truly known what it’s like to be selflessly loved in the way a friendship offers until this year. To allow someone to see the most vulnerable, not so admirable sides of you, and be seen and understood even though, not expecting a filtered version of yourself in return. This is one of those things that I just can’t quite explain the gratitude I have for or even figure out what I’ve done to deserve these life-changing people.
Ori + Em Studios – I thought about leaving this out but decided to keep it in because not everything on this list is a win and I’m proof just as much as the next Ori you know, that everyone has moments where they don’t succeed in the way they intend. I applied for my LLC at the start of 2021 with big hopes and all the dreams to make headway as an entrapeanuer. The will is still there but I’ve lost my way a bit. TBD on NSE.
Unglued Summer Camp – I said all I could say in this blog post. Anything more wouldn’t nearly do it justice! Plz read!
Treat Myself – This year I filled my calendar up with things to “treat myself” in an effort to piggy-back off of exploring therapy in a multitude of ways. I attended Unglued’s New Years Retreat exactly a year ago. I ran away and booked a treehouse AirBnB for a few days this spring. I took a “spacation” with my mom, splurged on a luxury hair appointment (first haircut in nearly 2 years), and got my nails done monthly. I also, to bring that list of brags down a bit, binged watched a LOT of TV. Even quiet nights in without saying a single peep is just as much a treat than anything!
I Quit My Job – That’s happening and I don’t want to talk about it because I’m still super in my feels and have a week left before officially bidding farewell to nearly a decade of my life. I’m gunna miss more than I think I’m ready to admit but I’m excited for my next adventure!
Writer’s Block Unlocked – I haven’t been shy about my writers block the last few years but this year I finally tapped into more than just my yearly reflection and trip rambles. I had to sort through some new (and old) emotions, feelings, and reminders this year. The only way I’ve been able to find genuine healing in life is through writing and I really feel like I made some solid progress. Here are a few from this year if you’re interested in reading something other than that trip life, yo.
Water – Don’t laugh that this compound is on the list that made my year! Between camping by the sound of water, kayaking for the first time, fishing with my niece, and sipping wine with a sommelier on a pontoon.. water quite literally made my year worth having. Waterfalls are closer to my actual love language than physical touch ever will be and this year I lost my breath while standing underneath Niagara Falls, I visited the tallest waterfall in Minnesota and I witnessed an underground waterfall within a cave. Next to writing, water is undeniably healing for me.
The Kittens – What list wouldn’t be complete without a nod to my sweet fur babies. They’ve seen a lot this year and we’ve been through it. I couldn’t have gone through half the stuff I did without their hunny bunny cuddles at the end of each day! Get yourself a kitty, it keeps the doctor away.
Welp, there ya have it. I have many a’ thoughts and a bucketful of dreams for the new year but they’ll remain locked up in my minds warehouse, key safely hidden until my “next move” was three moves ago. Merry wishes to you and yours in the most cliché but heartfelt of ways as we close year two of a panini-press pandemic life. If you were in my 2021, I loved you for it and thank you.
Welcome to the world, sweet hunny girl! I’ve been scribbling in my notebook for a few days trying to string together the right collection of words to write for you to read one day but if I keep at it, I’ll never actually put them together here, where I want them to live so here we go!
On Thursday, October 14th at 11:21 in the morning, I became a girl auntie for the second time to YOU, sweet little Petty. Your dad called me bright and sunshiny early! Actually it was pre-sunshine, it’s fall now and it’s dark a lot longer. You were due a few days prior, unlike your cousin Emma who was a couple weeks early so I’d been waiting in wild anticipation for the call. I don’t even think I said “hi” to your dad when I answered the phone! But as soon as I could, I made my way to the hospital. I think I was there just before 5:30 in the morning, hours before we got to meet you!
And guess what? Your grandpa was in town too! You’ll find this out soon enough but he drives one of those big trucks that hauls really cool things all over the country and he just so happened to be in town on the day you decided to make your grand entrance into the world. How special is that? Sounds like a God thing to me. I’ll tell you all about Him too, God, and your grandpa, of course.
Before you were born, we took guesses at how much you’d weigh and wrote them on the board in your delivery room. Your mom and dad thought you were going to be a lil’ chunk coming in at 10 and 9 pounds, respectively. But Grandpa Kevin nailed it. He guessed 7 pounds, 9 ounces and girl, that’s exactly what you were!
It’s so hard to tell who you’re going to look like but we all think you might have your mom’s little dimpled chin and your dad’s button nose. You haven’t much opened your eyes much yet, just a little peek but I’d be willing to bet you’ll have his eyes too! And obviously, the lightness in your hair will eventually gain a reddish tint like your favorite auntie, I’m sure of it!
It was such an exciting moment in my life to be a part of your birth day. Watching your dad, one of my baby brothers, grow up and become a father himself.. it’s really been one of life’s greatest gifts to date. I felt very similar when your uncle Logan became a dad to Emma. I know how big and special their hearts are; how loving, kind, and compassionate they are and to see them both become fathers is something I can’t explain. Your dad already loves you so fiercely and I’m filled with an immeasurable amount of gratitude knowing that love as his sister and witnessing it first hand with you and with your mom. It’s far more rare than many of us realize.
Both of your parents are going to give you the world, it’s really going to be something incredible to watch. Your mom is already starting you young on the socks-before-anything-else trend, she’s weird like that. I have my bets that you’ll rebel and be a barefoot babe everywhere you go! But she’s going to teach you so many fun things and you’ll probably love kitty cats just as much as she does.
I think your mom and dad are going to be the cool parents that bring you to your first concert when you’re like 2 years old. I can see it now, you’re sitting on dads shoulders rocking out to something at the Aquarium, belting out every single word! I’m excited for you to see your dad’s record collection, too. I imagine he’ll look at you in awe and full of #girldad pride when you start digging through old vinyl’s at thrift stores the same way my heart glows every time I see a puppy dog.
I’m already daydreaming about all of the fun things I hope to show and teach you, Petty. I can’t wait to explore this really big and fascinating and sometimes a little bit scary world with you. I’m so excited to bring you and Emma on adventures and watch you learn from each other, to watch you grow, and to see who you both become.
Emma is your very first cousin on your dad’s side and your only girl cousin so far! She’s 5 and she’s excited about being 5. She was a little anxious about meeting you, I think she’s a bit worried that all the cuteness and attention is going to be hyper-focused on you, which, for a full-of-feelings little Pisces girl, she’s not completely wrong. Babies are a lot of work and do get a lot of attention but I’m going to do my very best to show both of you all the love so that neither ever feel left out.
I can’t forget to mention you met one of my very favorite people in this whole wide world, my mom. Your grandma. Grandma Julie is going to be your favorite person too, ask Emma. She’s going to teach you to be brave and help you tap into the creative little artist I know you’ll be. And she’ll forever remind you that you can do anything you want to do because you’re Petty Jane and for no reason other than that. As she so frequently reminds both Emma and myself, “can’t” isn’t an option. We can try and keep trying but there is nothing we can’t do.
Petty, I hope to protect you from all the tough stuff that happens in this world and I hope to be your person no matter the time of day or age you are. I pray every day that you and Emma will become best friends in a sister-type of way that I never knew growing up. I know life isn’t always going to be full of fluffy little Canadian kitty cats and Saturday morning singing in the kitchen but your were born into a family with so much unconditional love to give and while we can’t protect you from everything, we’ll always be there with a toolbox full of solutions to get you through every single moment of this life.
My dreams and wishes for you reach far beyond the clouds in the sky; they are bigger than those I have even for myself. But I’ll never pressure you with them, only help to inspire and encourage you anytime you dare to dream and aim to achieve. You’re so new to this world, pretty little Petty, and it has given me a moment to pause and reflect on all the moments of life I’ve lived since Em was born.
Without knowing it, she gave me a reason a long time ago to do better, because little eyes are always watching and little ears are always listening. I’ll tell you both about it someday. And while I haven’t quite figured it out yet, I know you’ve given me a sense of purpose too. You’re getting to meet a different Auntie Ori than Emma did a little over 5 years ago. One that is still learning to jump but isn’t afraid to fly.
I love you so much already, little hunny girl. Thank you for making me an auntie again!
James 1:17 | Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.
Today I head home. It’s 3:55 am and I’m waiting for the TSA line to open up at the Bangor International Airport in Maine. Today’s date isn’t lost on me. I’ll be mid-flight between Chicago and Fargo on the 20 year anniversary of the 9/11 attacks and if I’m being honest, the event hadn’t made much of an impact on me until recent years.
Sure, we “watched the events unfold on live television” as children. I was 11. But does an 11 year old know the magnitude of what was going on? No. Did the adults we were surrounded by? Eh, the jury is still out. For years, I was frustrated at how dramatized people reacted around the anniversary as if everyone was personally effected. Maybe they were, but I doubt it. Or maybe I was raised in a home that didn’t make something out of nothing. Though, I know it wasn’t nothing, obviously. But I wasn’t in an environment where it impacted my life at all.
I guess, it just reminded me year after year of people’s inauthenticity and the more popular social media became, the more over the top people were about it. Kind of like the death of a 3rd cousin twice removed or high school classmate you hadn’t seen in 25 years but decide to blast a memoriam all over Facebook for. We all know that the loss really didn’t impact your world whatsoever so why make a stink about it? That’s right, attention. Or to fit in.
Uff. I really didn’t mean to wake up and choose asshole for a mood. I swear I’ll turn it around here..
Anyway, present day, I do think there are plenty of genuinely good-spirited, thoughtful 9/11 posts and memorial events year after year. The messaging has improved in the last few years, I think that’s why my avertness towards the day has switched gears or maybe I’ve matured.
I’ve focused my attention on learning about those that were personally impacted, the families of loved ones lost, the stories from that day, and the tremendous courage by emergency personal and civilians alike. Maybe that’s what everyone saw all along and I was too young or naive to recognize it. But I do now.
I feel grateful now more than ever at the sacrifices people of all professions have made to make our lives as easy and as (mostly) free as they can be. I recognize that I really have no idea what that actually entails on a daily basis but I know it’s significant to the infrastructure and success of our country, even if we are currently at war with ourselves societally.
Each year, I end up meeting more people who either serve or have served in some sort of way (military or otherwise) and it’s really something special to hear about the pride and honor they hold for what they do for their families and communities. It’s easy to overlook but I hope that in each person I meet, I gain a bit more humility in knowing just how impactful one life can be to another. I want to genuinely learn from people, not just post some sort of tribute on my FB wall so everyone knows we “didn’t forget” and I’d encourage others to do the same. When is the last time any of us really paused and visited with someone we didn’t know, learned their story? Bet it’s been a minute.
Alright, there’s no smooth segue here so moving on.. typically, I write a long sappy post about all the things I’d learned from the traveling I’d done. Considering this is already much longer than I planned and my posts this time around were much more “in my feels” than usual, I decided to bullet point it out for the sanity of myself and others:
Cathedrals, basicllas, tiny country chapels, and village churches with towering steeples are my favorite types of art.
Tolls seem dumb, what’s the purpose?
Many grown adults who should know better still have an issue with and make fun of people in bigger bodies.
Laughter is contagious.
I think this was my last solo trip, at least for awhile. This one specifically highlighted how lonely it actually is to travel alone.
Waterfalls are my love language.
The way COVID-19 protocols are depicted on the news in comparison to how it’s managed in real life is vastly different.
A quiet mind isn’t always a peaceful one.
I’m a creature of habit and thrive when in a routine. This has become more apparent now than ever before.
Sometimes detours are blessings in disguise.
The tiny circle of people I surround myself with are my most treasured experiences in life.
Welp, there ya have it. Another one for the books. Thank you to anyone that actually read this series in its entirety, it really was a trip. Where I’m at in life is much different this time around than the last time I wrote while traveling but I think it’s for the better. I’m more open and honest with myself and how I’m feeling now, rather than suppressing or hiding it. That may have seeped through in the form of pessimism in some of my writing this time around but I hope the light I feel still found it’s way to shine though. Life is weird sometimes but God is always so good.
I’m sitting in the little baby Prius rental at the summit of Cadillac Mountain looking at a wall of dense fog wondering what it looks like beyond that. I imagine it’s the Atlantic Ocean spotted with little Maine-owned islands. I’d wonder if anyone other than seals and eagles inhabit them. Or maybe it’s more mountains, I’m not quite sure which way I’m facing and it’s been raining since yesterday.
You need a reservation to drive up Cadillac this year, it’s $6 and mine was for 7:30 this morning. I think I might hang out up here until the rain stops which should be sometime in the next 4 hours, we’ll see.
Yesterday’s change of plans meant last night was very quiet for me and provided a lot of time to think; I have a feeling today will be the same. But having the opportunity to slow down and get serious time to be in my head without the woes and worries of work or people or plans really is good for the soul, even if that sounds a little clichè. Cheers to clearing your head while literally in the clouds!
I splurged on a lobster roll and clam chowder dinner with a glass or three of white wine to say farewell to New England in the most touristy of ways tonight. I wonder if true Mainers spend an arm and a leg for lobster on the regular or if it’s become more of a tourist trap. Either way, I’ll bite.
I sat seaside watching the clouds loom and the seagulls fly as the waves crashed into shore. I’d wished that the weather wasn’t so crappy, selfishly I wanted to see all the things in the most beautiful light and am bummed the high seas canceled the plans I had for the afternoon. It wasn’t until I was ready to leave to head up to Bangor that the clouds finally parted and blue skies found their way to Acadia.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a slight ping of rage rather than an awe of relief. I’d waited up at the summit of the mountain for hours hoping for just a peek beyond the fog and lingered at the restaurant far longer than normal until the time that I absolutely had to head out of town came. Then the sun decides to come out? There’s a lesson to be learned this week, I know it.
I’m looking forward to going home though, I miss Bo and Ag. I miss my routine and I’m excited to focus on the priorities in life that I’ve been working towards. Good things are happening and even better things are coming.
I woke up before my 5:30 alarm today. The rain was a’knockin’ and I found myself at an awake-for-hours bustling breakfast restaurant by 6:15 in Bar Harbor. I dined at the bar so I could chat with the locals. The chef’s English was broken and I’m not sure I understood much of what he said but laughter is translated the same in every language and I could tell he was loved dearly by everyone he interacted with. It was abundantly clear that he enjoyed making the hundreds of blueberry pancakes for patrons of both regular and tourist fashion each day.
I realized in that moment how rare it is to not only see someone so throughly enjoy what they are doing in the moment but to also be in the presence of someone who exudes joy so naturally. It was refreshing and felt contagious.
My goals for today didn’t quite pan out as expected. I hit up Bass Harbor Lighthouse after breakfast. I had intended to make sure I knew where I was going and what I’d be getting myself into so I could come back at sunset. The slippery jagged rocks of the Atlantic shoreline had other plans. With many “3 points of contact” steps and a lot of prayer, I safely made it down the mini-mountain of shady ass boulders. It was one of those climbs my mom wouldn’t have liked watching me do, balance doesn’t come naturally to me. But, I got to where I wanted to be for the shot I wanted to get. #doitforthegram
The graceful climb of a wannabe gymnast was nowhere in sight on the way up though. In a matter of seconds, I took a tumble forward in between two barnacle covered sharp as fuck boulders right into the leftover ocean water from this mornings tide. (Yes, it was that dramatic. You needed a visual.) My hand somehow broke my fall but it’s killing me like a mother and I screwed something up good down my entire leg.
I stumbled my way back to the car like a salty wet puffin and eventually took a walk in downtown Bar Harbor after regrouping but the fall seriously wiped me out and I’m going to be hurting for awhile. It’s been a weird trip, this one. So many detours and I can’t help but wonder what they mean.
Thankfully the cabin is cozy, the local gas station was stocked with ice, and Grand Torino was playing on AMC. It’s been pouring rain all day too which is definitely a bummer but I guess if I have to nurse some injuries at least it’s on a day like today. That’s optimistic, right?
P.S. Even though this probably took me out for the rest of the time as far as my plans are concerned (aka hiking), I really am in pretty good spirits and won’t let a little almost somersault into the rocky harbor let me lose sight of the blessings in life. Everything will be okay.
I meandered my way through tiny Vermont towns that were cuter than buttons and as quaint as can be. Each, I noticed, had a cemetery off the main drag and they were all larger than the current population. I’d like to visit more cemeteries, those old old ones. There is something so calming about them, the centuries-old plots have so much artistry and craftsmanship involved and I really think they are one of the least creepy places around. After all, no spirit is going to hang around their burial site. Right? One of my favorite cemeteries in this world is found in Dublin, Ireland; Glasnevin. It’s truly out of this world beautiful.
Back to the living, in Vermont.. the homes hugged the curbs and the porches are nicer than those I’d ever seen in my neck of the woods, with wrap-arounds top and bottom. The stunning make-up of these towns were as picturesque as I’d imagined and seen in photographs. It felt as if I was driving right through the set of Stars Hallow village after village.
At some point, I crossed a rickety, but probably up to code, bridge and a river somewhere in the wilderness. My GPS officially welcomed me to New Hampshire. It’s weird how life takes you on the scenic route sometimes, or Google to be more exact.
The tiny towns found in every Lifetime movie stopped but the curves and twists of the road grew, the trees towered, and every now and again I saw a blip of blue sky peeking through.
As I write this, I’m sitting at the top of an observation tower in the clouds of the Cannon Mountains. I’m not sure that I’ve ever been in the clouds before, with all the wind and the white flusteries in my face. It’s cold and I can feel the altitude in my lungs. But I feel the sun up there somewhere too.
I can’t see beyond the posts holding this thing up but on a clear day.. Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont can be seen for miles and mountainous miles. Or so they say.
Truthfully, I’m still up here in hopes for a break in the clouds so I can see as far as my eyes will let me but for now, I’m happy to imagine this is what the stairway to heaven may look like one day. When the wind is quiet every now and again, I stop writing wondering if I might hear a looming voice from beyond the clouds. Wouldn’t that be something?
I eventually made my way back through the woods, down the tram, and off to a little cabin in Maine at the gateway of Acadia National Park. While I didn’t run into any big bad wolves, I did come across a sign or twenty for moose along my way. Precious in photos, on t-shirts, and as a bit of a doorknob via Bullwinkle on TV, but I’m sure that’s about as far as the cute factor goes. I wouldn’t want to cross one of those suckers IRL.
Across the way from the cabin is a lobster and barbecue joint plastered with seafood-esque signage and feel good smells everywhere. It seemed like the kind of place that the fun-having, life-loving pogues of Outer Banks would go to.
I didn’t catch the chef’s name but I asked what a newbie to seafood, never-having-had-lobster, kind of girl should try. He suggested an open-face grilled “lobby” (how fricking cute) with his world famous beans. Freshly caught today less than 10 miles away, my first lobster was delicious. 10 outta 10, def recommend! *chef’s kiss*
Well, I wouldn’t want anyone to think that traveling, let alone traveling solo, is all rainbows and blue skies so I figured it’d be fair for me to share a downfall of traveling with Ori.
I won’t dive much into the details because I don’t think they nessisarily matter here but not everything goes according to plan, even for those more organized, like myself. And even when plan A, B, and yes, even C fall through, it’s hard not to feel discouraged and overwhelmed.
I had to slow down last night and rely on someone else when I always make such an effort to only rely on myself. It made me feel like I let myself down, even though I know that’s not really the case. But the need to be self-sufficient and okay alone or strong or independent (or whatever descriptor you want to insert) is only a self-prescribed treatment plan. It’s okay to need a minute and ask for help. It doesn’t make you broken or weak, it doesn’t make me broken or weak. If anything, it can strengthen your spirit, at least it is mine.
I’m finding that this incessant obligation to be so self-reliant is more trauma-based than an actual desire. I’ve learned a lot and grown tremendously from whatever independence I’ve gained over the years but it’s also given me the clarity to realize that I don’t actually enjoy uber-independence or thrive to achieve some ultimate status of it, if that makes sense.
I don’t buy into the modern day feminist movement where women are superior and run the world, it just doesn’t jive with me. And on the opposite side of the spectrum, I don’t require a spouse to survive. I can hold my own. But do I want to? Not really. I’d like to share life and responsibilities with someone again one day.
Woof, this is getting off course..
Twice in the last month, I’ve been reminded of a message the pastor I primarily listen to touched on. It was about the struggles we’re faced with and I was reminded of it this morning after revisiting last night’s feels.
He talks about how sometimes we’re put into situations so that we can grow in our faith. Sometimes, and honestly oftentimes, our prayers aren’t answered in the way we hope. If they were always handed to us on a silver platter, would we rely on Him? There are going to be times in life when stuff doesn’t go according to the plan A or B or C that we outlined. (keyword there: we) And there will be loads of times, maybe even more than not, where we don’t feel His grace around us at all, like we’re doing all the “right” things but everything is going wrong. There’s a reason for it all and it’s fair to say, we may never know the reason on this side of Heaven. That’s gotta be okay.
The specific crap I dealt with last night kind of feels silly now in the grand scheme of things and I don’t know why nothing had panned out as planned. I’m frustrated with myself for not being able to sort through it on my own but I’m also trying to give myself the space to say it’s okay, because it is. And it’s a new day.
Today, I’m thankful for the calm, rational, banterful mind of a friend and the (kinda spotty) cellphone towers in the Vermont mountains. Both of which are silver linings admist an otherwise dimly lit evening.
And this is also meant to serve as a reminder for anyone reading to give yourself some grace too. It’s always and forever okay to take a minute, allow yourself some space, and a moment in time to just pause. The world won’t stop just because you do.
Today’s tour guide was a high energy, highly irritated indian man by the name of Prady. His birthplace was in New Delhi but he’s called Niagara Falls home since the early 90’s, leading this tour for the majority of his career. He nerded out on Nikola Tesla all day, gave us all name tags, and referred to the tour group as the Prady Bunch. So clever.
I couldn’t decide if I enjoyed his verbal frustration towards the constant stragglers in the group throughout the day or if it was borderline unprofessional but it didn’t matter really, because it made me laugh and I couldn’t help but relate to his need for timeliness. (Except when it comes to the gym. I pull into that joint one minute late on the regular.)
Prady and the bunch aside, the day at the wonder that is Niagara Falls was remarkable and utterly unforgettable. While on the Maid of the Mist cruise, where the boat literally drives into the gushing Horseshoe Falls, this guy next to me from Bulgaria managed to say, in between choking on water hitting his face, that he thought the Falls would be bigger. Okay, bud. (Insert eye roll emoji).
Maybe I’m easily impressed. Admittedly, I have a soft spot for anything water-related (I should have been a Pisces baby). I thought every angle I was fortunate enough to see of the Falls was just spectacular and we were only able to see everything from the American side. Our boy Prady said the Canadian side has ten times the view. Can you imagine?
There were so many beautiful sights and views today and each time I turned a corner, I know I audibly gasped but the highlight of the day, for me, was the Cave of the Winds. It’s found deep at the bottom of Niagara Gorge, 175′ down, I believe. Which, fun fact, isn’t actually a cave at all. At least not anymore. The rock/cave feature that allowed people to stand underneath the Falls collapsed in the early 1900’s but the name stuck.
On this specific tour though, there’s a spot called Hurricane Deck, where the Bridal Veil Falls hits you head on with so much force that you can barely keep standing. I know it’ll probably sound nuts but there are no words to describe the magnitude of relief I felt while in the swirling tornado of water encapsulating me. I could hardly balance and had to gasp for air; my eyes were forced shut and all I could hear was the sound of the water. No tourists, no noise, no busy thoughts in my head. It felt freeing, if only for a few minutes.
I’ve been to a lot of places the last few years and seen a lot of really incredible sites. Niagara Falls may not have been big enough for Mr. Bulgaria and I know there’s not a ton to do in the area but it really did take my breath away and I’d encourage anyone considering it to make the trip. The thrill of being inside a waterfall was worth it alone for me and I hope I never forget those few minutes of bliss.
AM: As I was doing my morning skincare routine at a bright 4:30 am, I stopped to look at the woman I saw in the mirror and felt so much more joy than I remember feeling before. I sat there for a minute, thinking about all the times I’d looked in this mirror and so many others like it, wondering when the sadness and brokenness would leave. It was like I could see it written all over my face and I constantly tried to figure out how to conceal it and mask it each day.
It’s still there, I don’t think the shit we go through in life ever really leaves us but eventually, there’s a day, and it might not be everyday, but there is a day when you’ll look in the mirror at your old self as if it were a black and white photograph. The stories are there, the memories even might be still just as vivid.. but so much has changed in the world and on the inside. It’s up to us how we handle that type of evolution. I’ve felt so stagnant for such a long time, in a period of waiting and truthfully, much more emotional than I’d been used to in comparison to the last couple of years.
But every moment has either forced me to grow or to appreciate the blessings I have, even if they aren’t as I prayed for.
This morning I drove myself to the airport for the first time. It doesn’t seem like a thing, millions of people do it daily. But I couldn’t help but feel a ping of loneliness realizing that at the end of the day, I have only myself.
This weekend was such a blast and even amongst all the glitter and glory, I still felt like an outsider. Like, something in me still didn’t quite click right with all of the people I was surrounded by.
This summer, my heart felt broken after having parted ways with an incredible friend. I found myself questioning everything about my life and character, reliving all those moments wondering what it was I’d done wrong.
But, in all those cases above and others like it over the years, I gained so much insight. A friendship reunited taught me to treasure each moment as it is, in the present. To not worry so much about tomorrow but instead be grateful for the right now in the capacity that it is.
Summer camp required me to let my guard down, to literally and figuratively dance like no one was watching. After all, the more genuine we are to ourselves, the less we have to try and fit the mold other people think we should fit into.
And driving myself to the airport really was no big thing but it gives me so much more courage, even in the smallest of ways, to make the big moves in my life for me and not for others. So many decisions I’ve made in life so far always have taken into account how it’ll impact others before I assess how it could impact myself, and that’s embarrassing to admit. It’s been a slow process, but I’m working on accepting the fact that I’m often an afterthought to most, a fifth choice. It becomes more and more clear each day. And, that’s fine. But the time has passed where I constantly put everyone first and fortunately for me, it’s now a black and white photograph.
PM: I arrived in Buffalo, NY this afternoon, home of the wings (yeah, those wings). So naturally, I had to grab a late lunch where it all started in 1964, Anchor Bar. Allegedly, that is. Apparently there is some dispute about the origin story but it sounds like most Buffalonians (Buffalites?) are team Bellissimo. Mrs. B still even has her own parking spot in the lot, even though she passed away decades ago. The wings were tasty and yes, I opted for the most mild/sweet sauce available because my Scandinavian roots don’t know how to handle spice but they were perfect and the view from the bar wasn’t half bad either. The OG AB was decorated with license plates and knick knacks from floor to about as high as a tall dude could reach and the perimeter of the ceiling was adorned with motorcycles from every era and make you could imagine. Check it out sometime, it’s pretty neat!
The evening ended with an impromptu jot over to Niagara Falls (like no biggie). My day will be spent there tomorrow in various ways but I’d heard that the Falls lit up at night are something to be seen so when in Rome, as they say. I’ll elaborate more tomorrow on the Falls because I’m dog tired but on nights like these, seeing something I’d dreamt about since I was a little girl.. it just left me speechless. I really wish I didn’t have to experience everything alone so often. But, c’est la vie, right?
Here’s an assortment of visuals that rounded out my day, in the event you made it this far:
A Working Title. 