Anxiety

A simple moment of weakness.
A cloud passing in front of the sun,
and skin tightens, goosebumps prickling,
grasping at the warmth it so lovingly accepted just a moment before.
Chest tightens, matching the papillae of follicles in the shadow of that cloud and mind tightens, grasping for wisps of light.
Reaching and yearning, the clenching of body keeps just.. out.. of... reach.
Sun-drenched thoughts and pleasant memories within view, without comfort.
Spiraling deeper and deeper into clenching, unrelenting mind and tight, tight chest,
wishing for release and relaxation.
Finding it in escape-
Unsustainable.
Finding it inward, looking inward at the hurricane of words and colors and feelings and seeking the eye of the storm.
Keep looking inward at the eye- it expands, opening up to see all.
Here is solace.
I am solace.
Here is strength.
I am strength.
Here is peace.
I am peace.
I am a universe unto and into myself.

feed your head, water my soul

The Gardner || Water the Flowers

Original poem by TEarly || Street art by Mark Samsonovich 

Untitled- but of course it's about you.

You are timeless.

I can hear the seconds ticking away, one after the other on my wrist,

my trusty Timex keeping me 

as it always has.

But you are timeless. 

The seconds my trusty Timex have been entrusted with 

slip and melt and bend together,

the ticking narrating otherness.

But you, 

you are timeless

and my heart races as it beats so slow

humming alongside my thoughts as they breeze by,

reaching through to the corners of the universe

but never stopping longer than to kiss me on the cheek.

Then they're off, 

taking the ticking ticks with them,

strolling hand in hand beyond my reach.

You are timeless.

12/16/2014- 3:06 AM

100

In the last seven days, my life has gone from zero to sixty, zero to one hundred, zero to six thousand. I've had extraordinarily little time to process it all, but for the first time in my young twenty-one years, I'm perfectly fine with that. More often than not, I'm consumed with thoughts to the n-th degree about literally everything- family, friends, academics, work. For some reason this week has been entirely different. My brain is giving me a free pass, some sort of karmic break. I'm not sure why, but every conversation, action, laugh, cry has all been directed by instinct rather than mental or emotional processing. Its unprecedented. And crazy. And awesome. And I just had to make a note of it here, cause after one of the most unbelievable weeks of this semester, and this year, I'm happy. Terrified and uncertain and everything else under the sun. But I'm happy. Twenty-two in two days, and I couldn't be feeling more human.

I woke up with your name on my lips.

Happy Decemberish!
Instead of freaking out about the next two weeks, by the end of which I will be 22 (?!), I'm taking a big Pranayama breath, writing everything down, lighting some incense, sipping some Riesling, and going to bed.

It's nearly 1 AM and rather than subject myself to the same nostalgic rabbit hole as last night, I'm putting my hands up and giving into December. Today marks the beginning of a three week countdown to freedom, Ashtanga yoga, job applications, food blogging, recipe-rewriting, and peace. It doesn't matter if I don't wake up with your name on my lips anymore, I haven't for a long time, and even though I still kind of want to, today I woke up with my own name on my lips. And this Riesling's. Let's do this.

What do pie dough and nostalgia have in common?

I think the weirdest thing about losing electricity and heat during such a reflective and family-oriented time like Thanksgiving is not the lack of me-time, but the immense self reflection that followed a period of high intensity family time. Finally back in the kitchen and baking, getting the gratitude gears turning within me wasn't all that difficult. What was difficult was realizing the deep seeded pang that I thought I had healed months ago. Once superficial, then cut infinitely and gaping, I thought I had neatly sealed away any sort of rooted nostalgia. A few hours and pies later, I locate the source of my angst and here I fester. Do I reach out again? Do I let time keep passing, furthering temporal and, for the time being, geographic space between us? Usually I let my emotions be directed by whatever universal tug I'm feeling, and right now I've never felt more pulled. Note to self: apple pies and nostalgic trips down photo album memory lane do not make a stable Taylor. Not unhappy, I'm just feeling confused and very stuck. Time to sleep.

Like the sun that always shines.

Recently I was enlightened to the existence of these things called angel cards, and they offer daily guidance in the form of a single word with an accompanying description. The angel that told me about these angel cards picked one for me today: Trust. Before I asked her what the description was, I tried to let the word sink in. What does it mean to trust? What kind of trust? How can I direct trust internally and externally? The answer to these question obviously varies from person to person, but its importance is steadfast. We all know someone with trust issues, and to a degree we all share those insecurities with making ourselves vulnerable. Especially with those around us, the constant mental line we toe between giving someone the power to hurt us and entrusting that they won't is exhausting. Exhausting but necessary, it's the part I believe that makes us the most human. Not human in an evolutionarily sense, but human in the sense that we are able to connect with one another, thus forging deeper connections with the world around us and the universe that thrives within and between us.

Today sucked. I felt really human, and it felt like I was walking around naked-- bearing every inch of my humanness with my lack of a poker face. But I asked my angel for the description and this is what she sent me:

Trust: Move from a place of knowing within you rather than as a result of adaptation to outer experience. Let go of your assumptions and need to control life's creative process. 

Life happens-- not to you, but with you. Trying to control the processes and people that surround you is futile. You are the captain of your own destiny, a destiny that stems from the light that sits inside of you, impermeable and unaffected by anyone else. Let the angels bless you, but keep the darkness out.

I'm human, I can write these things and think them and truly feel them, but to embody them has been the biggest challenge. Sometimes I feel like I'm trying to keep a candle lit in a drafty room. But there's always people who are willing to relight the candle and huddle around it, and trusting that the candle won't ever go out is so important, no matter how dim it may get.