Letter to My Inner Child #1

 I am all in.
I am doing this for me and I am all in.

I am worthy of good things.
I am worthy of love. 
I am worthy of care, time, of attention.
I am doing this for myself because I deserve to be worthy.

And I, am worthy of deserving.

Living for Goals

 I decided to write every day, so here I am. Unfortunately, I don't have inspiration at this time. But if the simple act of writing is all I promised myself, and apparently Blogger is not very popular anymore meaning it is unlikely someone will read this, I'd say I'm doing pretty well.

A little about why I've started this: I am a giver-upper. I start quite a few things and then suddenly I'm no longer doing them. I've started this blog for example, and if you look at the publish dates you'll see I'm inconsistent. Drawing, writing, bike riding, running, yoga, dancing, swimming, meditating, the list goes on...I tell myself I will do all of these things with consistency. The only constant is I always stop. That is why I am here, writing to no one but myself because I am done with stopping. That's ironic. I want to set goals for myself and see them come to fruition. Below are my goals, hold me accountable, or don't - you don't exist so do whatever you want. 

Goal: To write daily. What I write doesn't matter, when I write doesn't matter, how long I write doesn't matter, as long as I write and I have proof that I've written that day. I'll shoot for a month of this habit, hopefully by October 12th, 2022 it will stick.

Goal: To believe in me. When did I stop thinking I was the coolest person? Did life beat the confidence out of me? Can I blame magazines, tv, billboards, and ads? I don't want to believe all of the people who have looked at me and said "really, you?" I am going to believe in myself. That means I believe I am capable, I believe I can try and succeed, I believe I can fail and stand back up, I believe that I am wonderful, and I will hear myself say these affirmations and I will believe in myself.

Goal: To allow for the possibility of good. My friend's therapist accused her of constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, I am surrounded by shoes. I have some pairs, but a ton of mismatched because their partner never fell. Floating above my head are a thousand shoes that I have been dodging and hiding from because I'm so sure they are going to fall at any moment. And maybe they will, but why should I plan my life around floating shoes? Why should I be worried about something that might never happen? Just because it has happened doesn't mean it will, and that's what I want to learn. I want to walk freely, and confidently, and enjoy the world around me - the only shoes I want to think about are the ones on my feet.

There it is, three goals. I'm stopping there. If I go on, which I could, I'll be overwhelmed which will lead to stopping - and we've stopped stopping, remember?

What I Remember

 Buying a clock with huge digital numbers.

Trying to get into my car, trying and trying, and trying

Laughing and laughing and laughing

The frustration melting away.

Conversations that went in circles, well worn until the dirt was to our waists and I fought the urge to say, “we went over this, you know.”

I remember correcting every time seizures became Caesars and the joy –

The joy that was hidden in the fear and pain.

There were ice cream cones, Indian food, and too many cookies.

Phone calls that were missed, nights of waiting for a call that thankfully never came until one morning it did.

I remember the pain.

I remember the fear in both of our eyes – the blue eyes we share.

I remember the invisible that I saw with you

And the visible that you were able to forget.

I remember so much more and not enough.

I remembered and carried it with me as your memories –

As you faded away.

And I remember saying goodbye,

When you were still here with me.

I remember saying goodbye, knowing I would see you the next day.

You would say hello,

Not remembering we had only just parted.

And I would say goodbye,

Because I remember.

A Conversation

  

If I could do anything…

If you could do anything you’d what?

I’d…I’d write?

Would you, would you write? Or would you say,

“I’ll write!” and sit down to fall into your phone.

…should I even try?

What is that yoda saying, do or do not, there is no try?

Could you do?

I could do. I have done.

But only when inspired.

And what keeps inspiration away?

Probably the not doing, and the falling into ways of distraction.

So, what if I did?

What if you did?

Would it have to be good?

Do you think it would be?

Probably not always, but maybe at times, maybe sometimes I would be proud.

Could you be proud of just doing?

Not for me. I’d have to start by doing for someone else.

People pleaser.

Be nice, you are me.

And as you I think we could do.

You think we could do?

I do, and so do you.

So do I will.

But what will you do?

If I could write? I will write!

I will write anything, because I am dong what I could do if I could do anything.

Okay, let’s do.

I already did.

Making It There, so You Can Make It Anywhere: A Clueless Girl’s Guide to NYC

 

1.       Don’t be afraid of the apps.

Google maps is your new best friend, have it always open. Don’t worry about tracking your every move because everyone else is doing it too – even the locals. With this app you can get to your subway, specific locations in Central Park, and the nearest public bathroom. Citymapper is also a fantastic choice. Not only does it provide you with live updates for subways, but it also tells you how many stops to expect and the best place to sit on the train. What it doesn’t tell you is left or right, this app uses the cardinal directions. If you’re like me and that’s a sure-fire way to get lost, follow the picture, it updates with you and you can figure out quickly if you need to turn around.

 

2.       Bring a portable charger.

You have your maps app open, probably your NYC playlist helping you get in the mood, your camera because you are a tourist, and snapchat so you can make your friends jealous – you need a charger. Maybe this is common sense for a lot of people, but I work a 9 to 5 (actually it’s a 10-7, that’s a different post) and have a charger in my desk and car; I was not aware of how quickly I could kill my phone. If you want to stay safe and entertained, bring a charger. 

3.       There’s a set section for walkers, stay in it.

The Brooklyn bridge is beautiful, the view is mind blowing (when you walk toward Manhattan), you know what’s not cool? Being yelled at by bicyclists because you’re in the bike lane.

While there are a ton of people in the walking lane and this might mess up your Insta perfect moment, you are not a biker, stay in your lane. The Brooklyn bridge was not created for tourists, it’s not Times Square where tourists are the main pull, New Yorkers use this bridge for practical reasons and you standing there making a TikTok is not helpful. Stay in your lane and move out of the way.

 

4.       Keep your ears open or you will piss someone off.

       I ran into a runner. I wish I could blame him, but he yelled excuse me twice and my feet moved right into his path. Remember you are not the only person using a space and even though you are desperate to get to a seat in the shade, people are around you always. Keep your ears and brain open. 

5.       Money, Money, Money.

This is a pandemic world. For months we have been ordering online, using credit cards, or contactless payment options, but for some reason there are still cash only places. I don’t know why, I don’t know the benefit, but I do know you need to have cash. If you’re staying at a hotel, grab some there. You cannot always rely on deli ATMs or expect to walk into a liquor store to have one just because every liquor store in Minnesota has one. Get the cash so you can get the pizza. Get the cash so you can stay in the bar.

 

6.       You have to order something or get out.

I’ve been sober for two years. Even before that I had never been kicked out of a bar. But I go to one place, without cash, don’t order a drink and BOOM; you’re out darling. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to order a soda, I did, the caffeine was definitely needed after 18 miles of walking, but I couldn’t find a place to get cash. Honestly, being kicked out came at the right time. We had finished singing Dear Evan Hansen and Wicked, they had just finished the only sing I knew from Pippin, I was ready to go home. But like any good Minnesotan, I wasn’t exactly sure how or when to remove myself from the party, so the host did it for me. “You have to order something, or you have to leave.”

7.     Wear the sneakers.

        In total, I walked 36.5 miles between Friday at 4:30pm and Sunday at 4pm. There was sleep, eating, subway riding, and even a short jaunt on a bike in this time. I wore my walking shoes and I still returned home with feet covered in blisters and popping calves. Even if you aren’t much of a walker, you will be in New York.

 (I wish I had looked this cute.)

8.       Nobody cares Stasha!

       Before my trip, a friend of mine who used to live in NYC said don’t wear tennis shoes unless you are wearing work out clothes. So, I packed workout clothes. This was great because it was a billion degrees Fahrenheit, and I definitely got my steps in. But I wanted to go to nice places too, so I had a dress and sandals. You know what you can’t do in sandals? Walk five miles, at least I can’t. After consulting with my tour guide, a NYC local, I learned that literally no one cares what you are wearing. Even if you feel ridiculous in your tennis shoes and dress, it won’t be long before you see someone wearing an outfit much more eye catching.

9.       Prepare to pay to pee.

New York is Urinetown. The number of times I had to buy a liquid just to empty my bladder was ridiculous. Minnesota is probably too lax with our bathroom rules, public bathrooms for all, which made this a shock. Of course, with all the walking and the heat, I mostly sweated out my liquid intake. Be prepared to enter a Mcdonald's and order a side of fries with your number 1.

 

10. It isn’t as scary as you’d think.

Did I get called a stupid? Yes. Did I quickly learn to stop smiling at everything and everyone? Hell yes. Was I scared? A few times, but for the most part, NYC was just another city. It was huge, busy, and life-changing, but not the place of nightmares I had prepared myself for. It also wasn’t a dream come true. The smell of piss and puke is a real thing, the homeless population is heart-wrenching, and the traffic was mind-boggling. There were good and bad things to find everywhere, you take the good and turn the bad into a funny anecdote. And before you know it, you’ve made it there.

Cruelty

 

The cruelest thing one can do, is teach a fish to fly and force it to live in the water.

 

I have tasted air.

I have lived among angels, shared space with the birds.

Now I am forced to drown?

 

Is that what life is?

A moment of joy, a quick flash of the outside world,

Before you’re squeezed into the bowl and expected to love circles?

 

I found freedom.

I found a chance to explore a new path, to twist and turn, jump and run.

Now I chase my tail.

 

How do I get back to the feeling?

Lighthearted, peaceful, rested even when constantly moving?

I had dropped my burden, only to find it waiting, twice as heavy as before.

 

Escape.

Is that the only answer now?

Run away, never look back, leave all I know –

A search for the familiar unknowing?

 

The cruelest thing one can do, is teach a fish to fly and force it to live in the water.

Surprise!

 I surprised myself with tickets to New York. You're probably wondering, how does one surprise herself? Ask my mother, she used to do it all the time. 

There was the six months spent looking for my Easter candy. 15 years old, I  no longer expected a basket or bags of mini Reese's eggs. We had done the required egg hunt the day before, though this year I was more worker bee than hunter/gatherer. I felt that the Easter traditions had been fulfilled, time to get in the car and drive two and a half hours for lunch and then exhaustedly drive two and a half hours back. As I walked down stairs to search for the keys so we could be on time for once, I heard my mother call out, "see if you can find your candy!"

My candy! So there was a little excitement left in my childhood, thank goodness! I searched everywhere. Above the computer, between books, within shoes, daring to go beyond my mom's pile of dirty clothes guarding the closet. Nothing.

"I don't think it's in a basket, there's just a few chocolate bars." 

Oh great, now not only did I have to search the three floors of our house, but I wasn't even looking for a big item. If I was my mother, where would I put it....

Okay, we have a very explorative, always hungry, doesn't understand no dog; search high. I'm 5'5", my mom is 5'7", don't search that high. Gone was my productive 'find the keys mindset,' I had a mission and I had chosen to accept it. 

Forty-five minutes later feeling hopeless, hungry, and extremely late, we gave up. "Let's buy candy at the gas station, and get our butts on the road!"

I was shocked when I found a package of Reese's cups and a Hershey's bar nestled in the mixing bowl of my mom's Hamilton beach mixer. "It's July. Why is there candy in the mixing bowl? Can I still eat this?"

My Easter candy, much like Jesus, had miraculously risen from the depths. No one was more surprised than the hider herself. "I could hide my own birthday presents," she would say.

"You hid your own candy," I would retort.

I surprised myself with tickets to New York. I didn't buy the tickets, lose them, find them and realize, "Oh shit! I go to New York on Friday!" 

My friends and family won't someday look back at this trip and think, "What a hilarious story that is also an obvious sign of early onset dementia."

I bought tickets out of the blue, no warning for myself, my friends, or my savings account. I heard my mom's voice, rising from the dead (see Jesus), telling me to go. Go and find what has been hidden for the last six months. Go and find your resurrection. Go and find life's sweetness, dolce vita. Go and find what I have hidden for you. 

My mom surprised me with tickets to New York.