Arlo Wynn

It has been 1 whole month since the birth of Mr. Arlo and as much as it has seemed to fly by (as everyone says it will when you have a child) I also feel like it has been the longest 4 weeks of my life.  Probably because it has been technically on the amount of sleep that I have actually partaken in.

To preserve the wild memory that will begin to drift away into the past I have decided to put down into words my birth story.  I feel that when I was pregnant I pawned after others birth stories in hope of just attaining an ounce of knowledge of the possibilities of what happens in birth.

My due date was Christmas Eve.  The build up to the due date consists of many people guessing the date your baby will be born, the bulging of your ever present belly, and many conversations with your baby at 4 in the morning asking it absurd questions when you can't sleep because of sheer uncomfort or just plain anxiety.  Nine months is a heck of a long time and the culmination of a body in yours comes to a mega climax around the end.  Christmas came and went, the tree went up and I vowed to keep it up until the baby was born.  Then came New Years.  Uneventfully, Chris & I rang in the New Year together with the babe still in the belly.  The days kept adding on in 2014 and the wonder of when it would happen filled my days with emotions.  My parents, my brother and my friends all looked at me daily with that look of anxious anticipation.  I bounced on the bouncy ball, hours of walking all times of the day,  ate spicy foods, had awkward sex, chanted, manifested, acupuncture, tarot cards, castor oil, membranes swept, stared at opening roses imagining my cervix doing the same thing.....shit got wierd & the list goes on.  That last week my focus was completely direct into going into labor.

I knew the dreaded 2 week mark was coming and I presumed that at that point I would give up my dream of having a natural birth as I walked into the labor and delivery floor of the hospital and they would shoot me with pitocin, which would maybe lead to other interventions along with all the machines staring at me.  These were all experiences I had spent 9 months meditating not to have, but also I was accepting that life really doesn't go the way you planned and was willing to accept that with integrity.   I wasn't quite ready to give up yet though and I imagined that this labor would come on the night before the induction, like a last minute field goal score in overtime.    I had a dream vision it would happen on a crescent moon.  On Jan. 5th, Sunday night, we pulled out of our houses driveway and looked west and there it was, the dang biggest cheshire cat crescent moon I had ever seen glowing orange and presumably falling into the ocean.  I smiled.

Contractions started at 2 in the morning that night.  They were light enough to cat nap in between and this continued into the morning.  Chris stayed home and we wandered the house doing projects.  He took down the Christmas tree, much to my dismay as I was set on bringing the baby home with the Christmas tree up.  It had its time though.  I had to be admitted into the birthing center that afternoon or they would make me check in to Labor & Delivery at midnight because that would be 2 weeks post date.  We got in the subaru, I had head phones in my ear listening to Rhye sing "Woman" as I closed my eyes on the mountain of pillows set up for me in the back seat and begun this extemely inner journey.   

After 4 or so hours of wandering the birth center halls, bouncing on a ball in the lawn in front of the hospital, enduring endless stares as I leaned over hand rails on the side of the building going through contractions I was admitted into our room at the birthing center.  There was a 4 post wooden majogony bed, a big ol' rocking chair and no machines to stare at me.  Chris unpacked and I sucked on honey sticks as the contractions got stronger.

We were given 2 magical fairy doulas that were volunteers at the birth center.   At first they threw me off my groove but as the night progressed I felt very grateful to have them.  Through the night they made me remember to drink water while holding a sippy cup in front of my face in the multitudes of positions I found myself lost in while amist the surges. The contractions swept through me.  I would equate the whole feeling to stepping on a freight train and being strapped to the front of it as it went faster and faster through the landscape.  There were no brakes.  I was having intense lower back pain as Arlo was facing sunny side up and tilted a bit on my right hip.  His big ol' noggin was low and pressing down but his position was not optimal.  The waves kept coming through the night.  The swells of contractions hit me like ocean waves and it reminded me of the feeling you get when you are held under by a huge set.  While you under the wave there is a strong need to remain calm and know you would come up for air soon.  Breathe, release, say yes, ground yourself, open, open, open, let go, trust.  Then it would end and I could breath again until the next wave came and bam, there it was on top smothering me.  All over again.  This happened for hours, time was extremely elusive though.  It didn't exist for me. 

Chris pushed on my back, let me hang off of him, rubbed my feet, made me move positions when things would slow down.  He was a dream husband, a dream birth partner.  My team was stellar.  The nurse on call was a badass, very blunt, real, and honest- just my style.  My midwife, Erica, was my favorite at the birth center that I had met.  I somehow lucked out and came in the night she was working.  She gives off an air of casualness while being wicked intelligent, and I trusted her to no end.

As the intensity increased I remained very present with the process.  I also, deep down, was figuring I must be almost there, almost fully dilated, almost ready to push.  The contractions were a minute apart and I was fully engaged.  My back hurt like a mofo, I couldn't stand up straight and I knew I was reaching my capacity as I was approaching 24 hours of these growing contractions. My midwife came in and checked me around 11:00 that night.  I was sure she was going to tell me I had jumped from my previous 5 cm. to 9 cm. in the last 4 hours.  Instead she pulled her hand out and said I was still around 5 cm. dilated.  What the hell?  My positive cool balanced attitude fell out of my body and sunk into an abyss.  They convinced me to take a shower to ease the pain that was becoming unbearable for me.  In the shower I whimpered to Chris, "I can't do it anymore, it's too intense, I'm in pain, I want an epidural, I want it to stop, I want to sleep".  I was serious.  I was basically telling him to strap me to a chair and take me to the other floor and shoot me up with some mega painkillers.  He wouldn't let me get away with it though.  " No, you can do this Erin.  You will regret it".  The midwife said the same thing as I gave her the same sob story.  She knew me, she knew what I wanted, she knew how hard I had been working to get it and she wasn't letting me throw in the towel.  When I could think for brief interludes I began to think of ancient goddesses, other women who gave birth before me, with me, my ancestors, all my friends and family who believed in me.  I called them there, I told them to please take away my pain.  I knew I was almost there.

The nurse gave me a basic iv pain killer to take my edge off as I assume I was sort of losing it at this stage (once again, don't remember,  blocked that out I think).  I was on the bed on all 4's groaning and speaking about how I had this need to push and how I didn't know how much longer I could take it.  I was convulsing at this point and my body felt out of my control.  My mind put a time constraint on the whole experience when I started to lose it.  I wanted to know how much longer it would take and everyone just looked back at me with puppy dog eyes telling me there was no way to tell.  Human beings like time, we like to measure life on time.  I had to let it go. Damn it.  I was on my brink. I knew something was shifting though.  Only an hour or so had gone by since my midwife checked me but I demanded she come back in.  No one believed me but I felt like I wanted to push.  She came back in and I told her I couldn't do it any longer, I couldn't last through the night, I wanted this baby out.  She noticed I couldnt stand up straight, she tried to shift my stance but I felt out of my body because I couldn't control it.   She said she would check my dilation.  That's where life took a very happy turn for me.  Erica looked at me and said that I was not going to get an epidural because I was at 10 cm and this baby was moving down the path closer to my arms.  Cheers of elation echoed through the room, through me.   Oh yeah. Thank you.

Let the pushing begin.  From holding back my legs on the bed, to squatting, to birth stool I was using every last ounce of energy in this phase.  Instead of breathing out I put all of my energy in and down visualizing it pushing the baby out.  They put a mirror out for me.  There's the top of his head and then there it goes back in.  There it is and then back in.  This went on for quite a while.  I started to realize I was about to really have a baby and this whole part of the birth felt very dramatic.  The team started to get restless I was noticing.  Deep breaths in, every ounce of air I could find and then push.  Pretty soon I saw panic on the midwives and nurse face.  I heard something about them calling for extra nurses from labor and delivery to come to the room asap.  She said the heartbeat was dropping and the baby had to come out now.  She told me she was going to have to cut me.  It was a blur but I saw her get scissors out and turn a light on to begin the incision.  I yelled out, "have you cut me?".  She said,"not yet".  That is when I got serious and took the biggest breath in I have ever taken and pushed it all down in me and out of me.  I refused to be cut.  I imagined myself full of strength, my energy shifted.  Then there he came.  Plopped out on the bed.  Chris in shock, in awe.  His limbs everywhere, his little body squirming.  He had pooped during the last phase of birth so they swept him away to clean him up and suction him out in case he swallowed any.  Of course, he was too smart to do that.  I saw his little penis swinging in the air as they whisked him away.  "It's a boy!".  Chris's eyes hadn't blinked in like an hour.  We did it.  I truly had the birth that I had dreamed of.  I mean I would of dreamed of birthing in an ocean with mermaids and dolphins if I really had my way, but on realistic terms I did feel very blessed.

When they brought his naked body back to me and laid him on me I saw my life change forever.  In him I saw myself, I saw Chris, I saw the meaning of happiness, I understood life a little bit more.  His eyes were deep pools of blue and they were wide open staring at mine.  He had been on such a journey, as had I, the release of him from my body was deeply ecstatic.   He grew in me for 9 1/2 months and it was like we were long lost pals.  His delicate and soft skin just sank into mine and from then on it was a connection like I have never known and am still very much figuring out.    Chris and I wondered how we could ever create something so entirely perfect.  It is emotional and yet I couldn't cry.  He was here.  What a long trip it had been.  Welcome home little Arlo.   Let's do this. 

Waiting for the birth of baby

Wishing, waiting,
wearing,
bearing down.
Full and close to capacity as I wait to birth my first born baby.  A nine month process culminating right under my nose in this miraculous body I do hold tight a small curled up little babe.  Who is it, when is it?  I find the last few weeks to be an interesting time of patience, reality, and haziness.  A time of strong emotions of just wanting to hold this little one and look it in the eyes while bam(!) all the surges of energy and love comes flooding into us.  Then the other emotions of anticipating the birth, the whole experience leading up to the baby being with us and all the intensity, the uncertainity, the adventure.  Wondering what my story will be and how it will all occur.

Pregnancy has been a bit of a walk in the park for me I must say humbly as I have glided through with this healthy glow of "everything is wonderful" radiance and not fallen into the trap of complaining, pain or complications.  This is beyond, of course, all of the random shit I have put myself through unbeknownst to this little fuzzers inside,  such as traveling for much of my first trimester, including 2 weeks on a bouncing sailboat (no sea sickness- thank you ocean gods) and then running around all my second trimester trying to keep up with the active Colorado nature and honing in on saving acorns for the big shift,  to then spending my 3rd trimester packing up my home, moving thousands of miles away with no real plan or place to live to a big intimidating place.  Now here we are like it was all meant to be..... settled in a bungalow with a red door, a nice swatch of grass out front with 2 adriondack chairs perfectly placed under a willowy tree, our selenite crystal lighting up the forefront of our living room, and the breeze filtering through open windows on a perfectly breezy 61 degree California day.

We have taken this baby on a little ride as it has definitely taken us on one as well.  This is only the start of that as I see this addition shifting our consciousness beyond this phase.  I know we will choose different paths because of it and our lives will end up in all sorts of random places like in treehouses or motivating to make bigger social changes in our world.  Right now it is all an open book still waiting to be drawn upon.  Right now I am just really pregnant and trying my hardest to be patient and trust in the right timing all while feeling groggy and restless.  Such a small notch in time awaiting an arrival and slowly waving goodbye to the departure of a different version of myself from the past as this awakens seeds of great change. 

New horizons beckon and I need time away to see today

On our way. We are always on our way, in between here and there.  We are constantly birthing new ideas all while in route to an idea that is clearly manifesting in front of us after time and place got us here.  We are always looking into the future.  What is next?  How can we make it happen?

Were in the middle of another exhausting travel day that has you rubbing your eyes an forgetting to take liquids out of your bags during multiple security checks.  We had a red eye last night and I had my neck cramped up on a sweater trying to find the right position to sleep which is totally and absolutely impossible to do in a functional and comfortable way.  Paradise beckons though.  It is May, the most spectacular time to leave the Rocky Mountains for weather that doesn't have you shivering and for time with bare skin in the sun.

It can all be exhausting and exhilerating.  Just the fact that there is steel drum music playing in the airport newstand makes me feel that much better, like I am on the right path here and now.  There are also wafts of cuban sandwiches and many differing accents that give me a relief that I am out of cold Denver, at least for now. 
Here we go.  Looking forward to serenity after a whirlwind of a month swirling around us.  I wanted a change and a rush of synchronicity has taken me under her wings and I am now (somewhat reluctantly) flying with her.  We want change but are afraid to make change.  Eventually change finds us and forces us to breath and move with it.  "It is just life", I tell myself.  There really is no need to be overwhelmed.  For fear is reason for us to face it and to grow into new shapes.  It is glorious really and we need to look life in the eyes and just give it a smile.
Perfect in the spectrum of all this light and life hitting us in new places lately.  A perfect place to sink into the moment and relax into changes, synchonicity, and trusting ourselves on the wild ride. Argggh, maty.

The Ebb & flow of creativity

Today I am inspired by the ocean. It is early March and Spring feels like a breath away, at least that is what the calendar says. Yet on a dreary Sunday after a late night bonfire and yurt party I feel like the Winter energy still penetrates this moment. So I spent hours looking at surf blogs and dreaming of other lives that I could live. I pull out the art supplies and have visions of water, jumping in it, it moving, ebbing and flowing. This happen at least 3 times of year. The effervescent cycle of desire for adventure, sun on my skin and the salt water fixing everything. The attraction to the un attainable, at least in the present moment. I think everyone is an artist, it is such a versatile word. I despise when the word artist is used in a pompous way (maybe this is my projection on to them but.....). Lets all say we are artists. Lets get weird and express and make avenues to better indulge in the creations inside of us. There are bubbles of all sorts that rise in us and there needs to be a place to let them float out so that we can inspire each other. This is one of those times where I take a step back and see my cluster of ideas and intend for them to find a direction. How can we inspire one another? I am really obsessed with personal expression and how to better facilitate a place and space (metaphorically and physically for this). I have been stoked on women starting non profits that integrate surfing with global initiatives in empowering small poor communities. I am inspired by ocean photography and bold moves to make the simple landscape into a more artistic and individually perceived form. I am inspired by art, surfing, activism and bold blue expressions. So I do not live by an ocean. I do live deep in the Rockies on the north facing side of mountain. We have blue skies, some interesting people and lots of events that give us visions of other lives. "There must be a project which one can accomplish wherever one is", that's what I say. There is a need to take inspiration, or at times envy, and turn it into something more tangible to our circumstances. So, lets focus: - Women's Performance Troupe- Summer street performance extravaganza - Spring Film projects. Still looking for an overall theme, but between the people in Ecuador and the caribbean backdrop I have a feeling we could put something together full of magic. Music video could also take this to another level. - Photo project with spinner camera depicting our 360 images of our generation, the reality of what it means to be american, privilaged in the eyes of the world, but struggling to find our place and mission in the mess of uncertainty. Art. Let it feed me, let it feed you, let it ebb and flow between us so that there is inspiration & re purpose within the daily routines.

It is the start of a new Epoch, a global connection between us

December 22, 2012 Okay I don't mean to get a little too new agey, but I am giving myself permission just this once.... December 22, 2012 We made it. Were making it. It is happening. The buildup crescendoed and were here on this lovely planet still. I had my brief anxieties during the journey up till yesterday but for the most part I was pretty aware of the fact that everything was going to be just fine, in fact, even dog gone better then before. My mind was a mish mash of anxieties building up to Dec. 21st. No, I did not have an exit strategy or a survival kit. It was not so much of a tangible "The world is going to end" worry. More along the lines of the general consciousness of holiday fury mixed with everyones individual concerns building up to the awaited date. Once I finally freed myself from the shackles that I created around my body and my mind I decided to hike to the top of a mountain yesterday. The sun set and the sky was a deep blue, a crisp hue, a silent moment between day and night and between worry and light. The solstice felt lighter, Winter felt lighter, and I felt laughter. We then cruised down to Carbondale and attended a party with some of my favorite people who, in times of deep transitions, make a point to give gratitude. We led and were led through a polar ceremony using the analogy of magnets to describe the shift we were in. The pull towards each other, the embrace of 2 objects coming together versus the struggle they have to connect when they are simply turned around. We are magnets, we have been fighting, arguing, disagreeing, critisizing, fearful of connection. The time is changing and there are images of us living in great consciousness, working with each other, giving to one another, opening our hearts, healing, and together creating a new way of how to make this all work better. It was a real moment, sitting in a group of 20 people breathing together and shedding light and love on all the darkness that has sunk into us. There were similar intentions and we gave them to one another through simple glances and standing around a fire with our faces glimmering under the half moon. There was a feeling that all over the world there were similar gatherings and people making space for such ceremonies right at that moment and on that day. We are blessed to be on this planet with one another. We actually are the people we have been waiting for. The end was never near, at least not how we spoke of what an "end" means to us. The end that the Mayans spoke of was a conclusion of an era that we were starting to get lost in. Now is the beginning of an era where we relinquish the capacity to start fresh and to believe in our presence here is a welcome blessing. Last night I saw others were merely a reflection of myself going through all the dark and all the confusion and all the light and all the pain and happiness on one giant wheel. Yes, it is just a solstice. It is the darkest time of the year where we should go inside and gather with our soul and our heart all of the pain and negativity that will breed when one is in the isolation of mid Winter. Then we should bring it out and let it go because it is the darkest hour before the dawn. The day after Dec. 21st 2012 is not just any dawn either, it is the completion of one way of living and the rise of a new way of life. I feel more ready then ever. It feels amazing to be alive and to have this be my world. Thank you friends, thank you community, thank you world for giving us another chance to make this better.

Italia!

Little Italy actionista. Italian living. I can really barely believe it has already been 2 weeks since we have been in Florence. It feels more like a week and yet I am still just hearing the sing song of the language and it sounds more like a song then a conglomerate of sentences. Words gathered here and there but for the most part I just fully regret not travelling around the world when I was about 5 and just learning a language in a way that is more organic since now all of my preconceived notions hold back my ability to retain the understanding in a simple way. We have been completely immersed into the local scene of Florentines though and I am pretty sure when I order a espresso I must look like a local. Between city life and weekend trips to the Mediterranean and Tuscany to the families beach house and to Salvatore Ferragammo's villa amongst the ripe olive trees and galloping horses we are definitely in the right scene to hang with locals. Out of our normal comfort zone of being at home is a like a bouquet of sensory and tangible delights to our eyes and souls in the European towns and countrysides. Not a dull moment in sight. The party during our first weekend at Ferragammo's property was a classic affair of multi -lingual Europeans singing and dancing their way through the evenings over long meals, glasses of white wine and walks on endless hidden roads in the country. We stayed in a the small village attached to their villa and got lost on small cobblestone streets peeking through windows at Tuscan interiors.. It felt so magical, but of course every small town in the country has these villages that to us look like our quaint dreams of medieval dream vacations. The theme of this years party (as they do them every year) was "Western". Therefore, as Chris and I are the only people from the real "West", they seemed to think that out in Colorado were wrangling up the cattle and hitting up the saloon in our cowboy boots. Pretty awesome. Danish women, english men, germans, spanish, italian. Then the Colorado people. As we finally entered real time and weren't feeling the effects of the jet lag and 2 a.m nights we have completely gotten into our city groove back in Firenze. There has been a bit of a shuffle with apartments as we are helping with the redesign and construction on Kathy's main place, so we have found ourselves with 2 apartments in Florence in which we go back and forth to with the kids in tow and carrying prosciotto paninos in our hands. Between working on her place here and there we find ourselves taking long bike rides on city cruiser old school peugoeuts around the city. The bumpy cobblestones and one way narrow roads are easy to ride forever on as you peek into tiny shops searching for Italian characters, which are everywhere. The men in front of the coffee shop all talking at the same time, the painter in the paint shop painting every shudder in his workshop green ( every shutter in Florence is green and underwear still hang from all of them as you would only imagine in a movie), the young good lookers on the steps in the piazzas laughing and smoking cigs over their beers, the baker bringing out new batches of magical small cookies and putting them in their windows, the fashionista in heels strutting to her job at some designer store in the center, and bambinos skipping down the street with the soccer ball under their arm on the way to the park to play footie, the art students planning their nights out. There is so much to see, so much to enjoy, and an incredible amount to listen to as vespas whirl by, bells tolling from clock towers, bikes clickity clacking on cobblestone, and the voices singing everywhere. Then, the food. The food is what the wheel revolves around in Italy. Today we went to Tommy and Vivi's nona's (grandmas) for lunch. Granted it was lunch and it was a Monday. We barely speak 5 words of the same language but she treats us as if we are her children. Five courses, 2 glasses of wine, 1 apertif drink, an espresso, and 3 hours later we walked out of her home. Everyone says she is one of the best cooks in Italy and I would never ever disagree. The lasagne, the fresh porcinis, the tenderloin, the ricotta dessert....it went on and on in a beautiful way. When we go to restaurants Kathy and Tommy seem to always know someone and Tommy is practically in the kitchen chatting it up with Mario or Giovanni or some guy who loves to cook incredible italian food. Sometimes I only order one small course and just savor it through instead of the classic 2 or 3 courses. I always wondered how people were skinny here but I see now that it is more about hanging out at the restaurant and not about the amount of food you consume. It could take you 4 hours to eat and therefore you can really spread it out and have dabs of this or that between getting up walking around and just basically getting lost in time. Some tuscan bread, a vegetable soup, a homemade tagliotelle, a cutlet of lemon chicken. It is all so fresh that the flavors pop out in a way that makes you want to eat less. Food is a lifestyle and espresso standing up at the bar is the lifeblood in between all activities. Even all the pitstops on the auto strada have full espresso bars where you can get prosciotto and mozerella paninis and fresh squeezed orange juice. This is what I call living it up on the road. We had a wonderful day at the beach yesterday where I finally felt the salt water of the mediterranean hit my skin and we played barefoot footie with Italians and germans on the sand until sunset preceded by a naked swim in the sea. We are looking into a week long trip to Spain to get some surf in a couple weeks. We will make a stop in Barcelona and take in some spanish culture before heading out to San Sebastian to get some Atlantic Autumn swells. I glimmer just thinking about this.... Tomorrow is Venice for a few nights and then back here for more wanderings and starting to paint the apartment. The park is long and glorious and provides a respite for us active folk when we need to feel the trees above our heads and a little sweat forming. With all the food and espresso this is needed. When the kids get off school we usually meet with Vivi and go have some random adventure where we do lots of laughing and quite a bit of goofy face making. Between Vivi's ability for comedy and love, Kathy's fun adventurous infectiousness and energy, Tommy's local knowledge and entertaining teenage moments, poser the dog wagging tail and spur of the moment songs, Francesco's always witty one liners with a pipe always puffing in his mouth, giovanni and chiara's classy italian style and desire for outdoor activity we feel like we have walked into the perfect Italian family. We spent some time at the family business and slung some italian fabrics around to savvy international businessmen and actually made some euro in the process. It was quite the educational experience skateboarding around a fabric warehouse while loading rolls of fabric on to a wheely mcjobbies for some english buyer who sells to designers who made clothes for the royal wedding. Bam. Bigtime. Well the night is taking over and I have found myself staying up late late late everynight getting lost in the moments of city lights so off to bed for me. Maybe a little bit of reading would do me well to settle down from all the activities of the day. Ciao, Ciao.

Fall

Fall makes you aware again. Aware of where you are, where the hell your going, what the heck you have been doing for the last 4 months, 1 year, whole life or whatever frame of time you may be working with. It hit me quickly about a week and a half ago. I had just came back from Denver after finishing our last large bundle order of the Summer and then completing the film project we had been working on for the upcoming Nepsa awards. In the moment, rollerblading around town, wearing one pieces, stuffing bundles, working, moving around a million miles an hour, the get togethers, the self motivated entreprenuer. Summer. Always a lot of need for outward progression in the present moment with outdoor activities till your sore in the legs, business ideas, the throwing of the bag when you come in the front door and spilling your closet out for the next activity. Bam. Good times. Then I woke up, one morning last week and I just felt myself sink into the bed. It wasn't necessarily exhaustion but more of a combination of that with solitude, reflection, and the feeling of being full and needing to spill something out before it  exploded within me.  I knew that the leaves changes had been occurring in the days preceding, but the shift to Fall in me happened right at that moment I peeled my eyes open.

Then came the deep thought into what I had been really up to since last Fall. The big goals that may have not have been completely reached took precedence over the many leaps and bounds I may have (probably) made. Along with that came disappointment and the grieving for the days gone by without all the miraculous evolution I had so optimistically predicted 1 year ago. I went there and I spent a few days there dwelling on all the little bits and pieces and I sherlocked holmes'd why all of these things were not at the edge of my fingertips. The outcome was pretty much what you would expect it to be....getting really sad, finally expressing it out loud at a ladies night, realizing then that I was kind of over it and then attempting to find pyhsical and spiritual activities to release it. This is when you dig the toes into your current life with a fierce motivation towards getting your ass up and going at it all again. Okay. Sounds fair enough. Sometimes nothing you can do will break this solid grumpiness that can take over your whole existence. You try to throw all the emotional baggage out the window but it ends up attaching to your bumper anyways and dragging itself along with you through your day. What will fix it, you ask? Well I realized that going to the top of a really tall mountain at midnight dressed in a glow in the dark puffy vest and striped skin tight leggings with a mission to dance under the stars with 100 strangers until the light perfectly negotiates itself over the perfect outline of the mountains. We leaned on each others shoulders during those moments awaiting the warmth of the sun to embrace us and awaken our souls into a new day. It felt real, it felt true, we laughed at everything endlessly, & it felt like we were together in this. Whatever this is. We were in it together and that made everything feel okay.

“When you experience uncertainty, you are on the right path – so don’t give it up. You don’t need to have a complete and rigid idea of what you’ll be doing next week or next year, because if you have a very clear idea of what’s going to happen and you get rigidly attached to it, then you shut out the whole range of possibilities.” - Deepak Chopra