a fine balance

polaroid spectra.                                     

I'm the girl that says it like it is.

Sometimes, I have to bite my tongue, when all I want to do is call bulls*%#.

There's a fine balance that I'm learning to appreciate; learning that I can speak my truth but it doesn't have to be the whole story.

The fine tuning and editing that's necessary when I'm writing, is also a necessity when I use my outside voice. And some things are better left unsaid, knowing that it's probably not worth the trouble of speaking your words when they won't be heard.

As I move forward towards a better me, I fine tune the balance. I'm learning to appreciate the clutter clearing that happens when you make big life changes like moving across the country. There's a lightening of the load with personal possessions, (although we didn't get rid of enough!), and there's a clearing out of people that don't transition into your new life, that has nothing to do with proximity or the fact that you've moved.

It's a transition and an adjustment. We've had so much change this year, (and there's more to come), I'm learning to navigate in a new territory without a comfort zone. I'm learning to accept change as it comes, without trying to control the outcome.

close to the heart

Tuesday's Notes from the Universe was written just for me.

Kristen, you're the only person who knows what's right for you.

The only one.

And if you already know what this is, commit to it. If you don't, commit to nothing.

Only you know,

The Universe

Now I know that everyone gets the same emailed note, but in the beautiful way that the universe really does work, there are times that certain messages grab my attention. Or in this case, stop me in my tracks.

Traveling solo allows for lovely introspection, even if you're traveling to visit friends. The time alone, the time that's spent in the company of friends new and old allows me to connect with myself again. I've said this before, but I'm very protective of the time that I'm just me. I'm still a mama, wife, acupuncturist, photographer, and all the other names I carry, but I'm telling the story, I'm sharing the parts that make me whole. My experiences and roles in every day life are richer when I'm solo; sharing parts of my life in a manner that almost puts it into the third person, rather than the present experience that occurs when I'm with my family or working.

With all the change that we've invited this year, I'm journeying to a place that's closer to my heart than ever before. I'm stronger. I'm more like the person I've always known me to be and it's empowering.

Always in the middle of things, I'm realizing the true gift I'm offered in not being able to work right now, in having to stop, breathe, and slow down.

Lately, (and in some instances it seems like the first time), I'm seeing myself in the words and conversations I have with my friends. In learning more about myself, about my presentation and how I represent, I realize that as much as I talk a lot, as much as it seems as though I've laid myself bare here, I've kept myself intensely private. As much as any online presence is a slice of life, a miniscule, selective version of what we hold important and want to share,  it never is the whole story.

And I'm not sure the story I tell, how I represent myself here and in the bigger online world,  conveys that I'm also the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve. That I'm not always tough and just because I can take it, doesn't mean that I have to keep quiet when the expectation is, that I can take it.

I'm doing the best that I can, same as everyone. Sometimes it's hard to remember that we're all just walking in our own shoes, that it's better to walk forward shoulder to shoulder, always forward.

Tuesday's Notes from the Universe confirmed the balance and strength I'm feeling after eight weeks, (can you believe it's only eight weeks?), of life here on the west coast. The whole looking back thing...wow. I feel like two, different people when I think about myself these last six years in NJ, (I can't remember myself objectively when we were in NYC), and now. I don't have any words to articulate it and really, I feel like this is all just beginning and it's swirling around and exciting and I'm just trying to ride it.

Living at the beach, breathing in the salty air, touching the sand and the ocean...it grounds me and allows me to trust the universe and myself, that forward momentum comes as I strive to do and be the best that I can, that I really do know.

practice

polaroid slr 680/600 film.

While we were south of here, I decided I'd try to begin my swim practice. It's on my list and I decided I'd embrace swimming, (I'm not really a fan), because of over-use injuries, (right leg related), that need to heal.  My way to calm is through physical movement, (exercise keeps the dark and twisty at bay), and the month or so that I need to heal my leg isn't an option, but I thought swimming would be.

The lap pool at the hotel was perfect. I'd gone down in the morning on a little reconnaissance tour and the temperature was just right, (read: bath water warm).  Later, when I went back for my swim, there were two ladies who lunch lounging poolside under an umbrella; bikinis and big hats and chardonnay spritzers on the little table resting in between.

Gulping back a little intimidation, I lowered myself into the pool...nice. I swam to the other end and felt pretty good. I wasn't going to fast and I felt pretty confident, even though it had been decades since I'd been in a pool for anything other than a dunk with pretty little dog paddles and handstands.

Going back it was a whole other story. I couldn't get my breath into a rhythm and I felt a little panicked as I tried to control my arms with my legs. It was pretty clear I wasn't going to make it and I stopped half-way! I wasn't out of breathe, but I wasn't breathing properly and it was obvious at that moment that 1) I remembered myself to be a much better swimmer than I am, and 2) I don't think I ever learned how swim freestyle or breathe properly while swimming.

My breast stroke wasn't any better, but I can swim a great side stroke, whatever that means. Thankfully there were kick boards and I was able to do a couple of laps so I got a bit of a workout in after all.

My friends, that entire experience was a total of 17 minutes. In those 17 minutes, I took water in up my nose and down my throat. I felt embarrassed and I strained my left rotator cuff because I can't turn my head for a breathe to either side.

Funny thing is, I felt really good afterwards. That good feeling you'd get as a kid who'd spent an entire afternoon in a swimming pool.

I'm not giving up, but I am getting swimming lessons, stat. Or just as soon as my shoulder pain subsides.

urban suburban

west hollywood, ca. sx-70/tz-artistic film.

For me, life in Los Angeles is the perfect balance of urban and suburban.