Date a girl who reads

Happy Friday! 

Photo Courtesy of Piccsy

As a "girl who reads" I approve this message:

"...If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She'll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she's sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why you heart hasn't burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you're better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes."

~From Rosemarie Urquico's "A Girl You Should Date" (read the whole thing here)

Daze of Spring

“When spring came, even the false spring, there were no problems except where to be happiest. The only thing that could spoil a day was people and if you could keep from making engagements, each day had no limits. People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself.” 

-Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

Fact: I love spring.

Spring is a season of growth, patience, goals, and dreaming. It is a season of reflection and re-energizing. It is a season of beauty.

I think it's safe to say that everyone loves the summer, but I believe that few can appreciate the true beauty of spring. Spring is a mental escape for me. It's an opportunity to gear up and set goals for the summer weeks just around the corner.

While I do play year-round, winter is naturally a slower time adventure-wise for me. Hiking muddy trails below dark gray skies, eventually wears you thin. Camping below these same skies can actually exaggerate the turmoil of my days and heart. Convincing friends to get out with me during this foul season proves to be tough, but through the years I have found that the winter hiking season is a time to fly solo, focus on me, and reflect on my needs--For better or worse.

Photo: Piccsy

Even sitting here typing this post, the skies outside my office window are an overcast gray, and rain falls with intention, yet, something is different. A new season is upon us, a new promise that the days are getting longer, and the skies will soon brighten. This is a promise that keeps me up at night, excitedly planning out routes, details, and studying maps, locking up weekends. I watch as my calendar fills up with road trips and backpacking dates. My vacation time accrues, and my travel savings account grows (slowly, but hey-it'll get there.), as the skies brighten, I too brighten.


The excitement of Spring goes beyond planning fun excursions with friends and getting out of the state for long road trips, sunroof open, shades on, packs in the back--It carries over into our jobs, our love life, and our relationships with others. Spring is a time to love. A time to trust. A time to go out on a limb.

Photo: Piccsy

I love spring because it's a time to be daring. Your dreams become more bold, your excitement levels are high, your heart more open. Creativity beams.

I will ask you all to take care of your creative Self this Spring. Journal, make lists, blog, create, whatever you need to do to become a part of this season of growth. Accept the flirtation, be honest, be you.

This season is beautiful, you are beautiful.

Bingo.

"We have lived our lives by the assumption that what was good for us would be good for the world. We have been wrong. We must change our lives so that it will be possible to live by the contrary assumption, that what is good for the world will be good for us. And that requires that we make the effort to know the world and learn what is good for it."

-Wendell Berry

Process

I have started and deleted many posts in the past few weeks; never quite feeling proud of the outcome or the direction of my posts. My inability to center my thoughts, and in turn allow my mind to eloquently paint my emotions through flowing sentences seemed impossible and at times daunting. So in the end, I always deleted the attempt and walked away. Communication takes grace as well as time; it is a process.

The biggest thing I have needed to communicate lately is that Jared has moved out. My home is mine again. This was a difficult thing for me to write about because I didn't want to write slanderous, or ill words about him, yet I didn't want the world to think that I was jumping for joy either. This has been a long few weeks, but every day I wake up feeling stronger and stronger, repairing my environment and rebuilding my Self.

After he was moved out, I stood and stared blankly at my house that we had made a home. Oddly enough, I felt emotionless. No wave of sadness, elation, or loneliness. I just started adjusting. I started basic by rearranging rooms in the house, naturally starting with my spare bedroom that was once his. I moved my bikes as well as my snow skis back onto their respective wall mounts that had been installed last May, before Jared moved in. (If you missed that episode about what went into those things getting hung up, you can read about it here), I then neatly arranged my packs, climbing gear, tents, etc. into beautifully organized shelving units. A perfect reminder that I was graced with a love for the outdoors that I could always find peace in.

It was then time to clean. This became...obsessive. Obsessively therapeutic. I discovered that cleaning a man out of my home was easy, cleaning his dog out of my home proved to be a more difficult task. She was a clean dog for the most part, at times she smelled like most wet muddy trail dogs do, but her hair was everywhere. The carpets were the first to get cleaned thanks to her. The more I vacuumed and shampooed, the more my home was quickly losing it's sense of Marley and Jared. But it didn't stop at the carpets. I washed the tile, I scrubbed the kitchen (counters, stove, fridge, everything.), scrubbed the bathrooms down, I washed the walls in my house (No joke.), I cleaned for nearly two days. When all was said and done though, my gross 1980's apartment was immaculate.

But it still didn't feel like mine. I decided to dump the gross couches that I have been living with for years now, and bought some nicer couches off of a friend who was moving out East. I then went out and bought new wall art and an area rug. Buying these items was hard for me. I am never one to spend my money on material possessions for my home. "Home" for me was always a crash pad, never ever an investment. But for some reason, I needed this home feeling in this process. A realization that has left me more than confused. I have yet to figure it out. Ideas?

Just like my apartments ability to adjust, I too have adjusted. The beauty of eating my morning cereal in my underwear, dancing around my living room listening to 90's female rap artists (Missy, Lil Kim, Salt N Peppa, Eve, etc.) and showering with the bathroom door open again felt natural; these are things I haven't done since Jared moved in last July. He never stopped me from doing those things, I just stopped myself from doing them because he was there. As the days continue to go on, I begin to rediscover the simplest things about my home, and I cant physically hold back my smile.

It feels so good to smile again.

When Jared and I ended, I never stopped doing what I loved. I didn't stop seeing my friends, enjoying a good glass of red wine, or getting outside to play, but at the end of every day, I walked through the door of our home. I didn't realize how much that drained my energy. But now, after a long hike, or a day of climbing, or even just coming home from a day of work, I come home and I am welcomed by the energy that I have created for my Self. It is revitalizing.

Rebuilding is a process.
But I have learned that this process has been easy and so so refreshing; not tedious or exhausting whatsoever as I once anticipated (and dreaded).

So I move forward.
I sit back, and enjoy the process.