Free of Ego, Free of Regret

I have had it in my mind's eye over the past week something that was a supplemental resolution of mine for 2008. I wrote it in my journal almost a year ago. Somehow, over the months, I let it drift back into the recesses of my brain to sit unused. But I have revisited it recently, and somehow my understanding of it has changed. Something has "clicked" for me.
It is three simple words:

Free of Ego

I do not say "Free from Ego" because our egos are intrinsically a part of us. I don't wish to be free from my id, as if separated from my it. But "Free of Ego" implies a freedom from the constraints of the Ego as aggressor, competitor, and negative entity that guides us through our daily actions.

Free of Regret is something I have added to this mantra more recently as I have come to terms with the fact that I am a "Ruminator." I allow negative events and associations to drift into my psyche in the present moment, where they continue to fester like a boil on my memory. Even reminiscing and talking about these events with other people is, I have learned, no more constructive than dwelling on them internally. I wish to free myself of the Regret that at any moment can surface and change the course of my thought patterns and my day.

When I was in grad school, one of my fellow classmates accused me of cheating. I knew in my heart that I had not cheated, but he was a good friend and someone I had come to trust and confide in over the years. Realizing that he did not fully trust me in return for some reason (and I believe this was more about his personality than mine) was very hard to deal with or forgive. We made our amends, but to this day I know there is a tiny part of the situation that I have not exonerated. I may never completely forgive him for something I truly thought was poorly handled and downright wrong.

Being Free of Ego, Free of Regret means that in this moment, here and now, I will not allow myself to ruminate on this experience. I count to 3 and vow that after 3 seconds I move onto more positive, constructive thought patterns.

Other negative reminiscences such as this come up from time to time in my daily thoughts: disagreements I've had with a family member whose core beliefs are much different than mine, or things left unsaid that I wish I had said to win my case (there it is, the big EGO!). I'm sure we all have experienced similar things. When I am under the influence of Ego the Aggressor, I am allowing myself to think that I need to prove this person wrong, as if I am most definitely right and she is definitely wrong. With all the subjectivities in our great world that make it so multidimensional and fascinating, why would I make something so paltry as being "right" my main goal?

When I am Free of Ego, I speak with my own forthrightness and character, but I do not allow the aggressive ego to turn the situation into something negative: a competition or a bad experience. There is something to be learned in every circumstance. Only if the ego is quiet and calm can we see what is to be learned.

What is present in the space made available by being Free of Ego, Free of Regret?
Gratitude, Peace, Poised Self-Confidence, Joy, and Love.
This Thanksgiving, I will ruminate on these things, not the others.

This photo I took of our beloved Highland Lake this fall brings me much solace and gratitude.

How do you free yourself from Ego and Regret?

Saying Goodbye to Texas, Part 2

We leave tomorrow for the great state of Pennsylvania! We are very excited, though I have been getting knots in my throat from time to time...very bittersweet. Here are some photos from our farewell party at the Broken Spoke this past Thursday for your viewing pleasure. It was a ton of fun and we thank everyone for coming out to celebrate with us! Alright folks, see you on the other side!

Max and Brechyn, on the way to the Broken Spoke

Brechyn and Larissa celebrate in each others' arms!

Brian and Ana

Karl (Yarrrrl)

We're two-steppin' fools


Howdy partner!

Ryan and Larissa dance one of their last dances at the Spoke

Everyone wave goodbye!

Hey Jesse Ray!

Ana and Brechyn snuggle

Things got a little wild toward the end

And a bit hokey!

After-party at the Continental Club Gallery!

Kari and Larissa get close

Larissa, Lauren, and Brechyn

And then it was off to Magnolia Cafe for some late-night eats!

Goodbye Austin!

Saying Goodbye to Texas, Part 1

This Saturday, Ryan and I visited the parents of one of our friends in San Antonio. We had a lovely time with good company. We barbecued in their yard, sat around the dining room table during an afternoon rain, and relaxed in the muted, post-rain sunshine after a delicious dinner. As Ryan and I spoke to our friend's father in the yard, I started to shift my focus from listening to our conversation, to listening and noticing him in his environment - a big-picture view. I was reminded at that moment of one of the many reasons why I appreciate having lived in so many places around the country and world: I find myself in the welcoming homes and company of so many wonderful and interesting people that I may not have ever had the chance to run into. There we sat with him, hundreds of miles away from our hometown, the other towns we have lived in (such as Moscow, Idaho, and Boston, Massachusetts), with many friends and family scattered about. We were even an hour and a half drive from our home base away from home, Austin. We were both visitors to San Antonio and to Texas in a way (even after four years, I still don't feel like a true Texan). But what I felt in that moment was an immense sense of place, albeit a portable, nomadic sense of place, like something I could pack up and take with me. This, after all, was his space, the world he had created for himself, and we were invited to glimpse it and get comfortable in it, even for just a few hours.

I have felt this nomadic sense of place and belonging before, over the years of being invited into the worlds of many people out West, back East, and across the seas. We wave goodbye to them all eventually and head on down the road. But we never forget the glimpses, the snapshots we take for our memories, and the people woven into the fabric of our lives.


This evening I went for a jog along Town Lake, the section of the Colorado River that runs through the center of Austin. The immense amounts of rain we have been experiencing in Central Texas has caused all the waterways to swell, forcing the river authority to open the dams full-throttle. Our passive, mopey "river" has become a torrential deluge, charging with its army of white caps through the center of town. There is a point on the North side of the river path where the currents are at their peak (see above). It was there that my jogging feet this evening were hypnotized into a zombie-like stride toward the river's edge. I joined a small group of passersby, mesmerized as I was by the swells rarely seen in our fair city. I could tell everyone was caught in the middle of their usual Sunday evening activities - biking, jogging, strolling - when they stopped to see this strange occurrence taking place in their city.


Like a comet passing through the atmosphere, these waves were a fleeting site not to be missed. For those two minutes or so that I stood there, feeling my elevated heart rate slowing, I felt a connection with the strangers around me and to my city that I have loved for four years.

I am not saddened by these moments, or by saying goodbye to our friends in San Antonio, Austin, Idaho, or wherever we may drive away from in the future. For these are the gifts I have been given for leaping a bit farther from the nest than I could have, and keeping my heart open to anyone willing to answer my knock and invite me in.

The Road of Life

"On the road of life, it's not where you go, but who's by your side that makes the difference."

This was the quotation on the inside of the card I gave my husband for our anniversary last weekend. In our years together, we have traveled (and lived) all over the country by car and, thus, this quote seemed fitting as an expression of my feelings about him and our relationship. Well, we have come to yet another interesting turn in the road of life. We have decided to pick up our Austin roots and move back to the Appalachian mountains from whence we came. Yes, we are moving to Pennsylvania!

This has long been a goal of ours, as we have been living away from home for a decade. But, like the twists and turns of the road, one can never quite predict how or when one's goals may come to fruition. We made our decision rather abruptly, two days ago, about a month before our apartment lease will expire. Yet, it seems this is how things must happen sometimes: in the blink of an eye, as if life is suddenly going 90 miles and hour. Despite the speed at which we feel these things often come to pass, it is with peace of mind and joyful hearts that we make our decision. This is, after all, how the tires feel as they hug the curves in the road, you gripping the steering wheel: unfathomably fast, but true in purpose.

We have driven the route from Austin, Texas to Mercersburg, Pennsylvania and back 19 times (one way). The twists and turns of the route have become ever-familiar over the past four years of driving home twice a year. We have our favorite pit stops and landmarks, stopping always at the same Cracker Barrels for breakfast (with winter stops being particularly fun since they often have a fire in the fireplace), always ordering the same thing off the menu (the Old Timer's Breakfast with hot coffee and tea), and remarking on how the black to white employee ratios change as we move from South to North and vice versa. Our 20th trip North in July will be our last on this route, at least in this era of our lives. Surely we will return to Austin in some fashion, but the chances of us making the trip under these circumstances are slim. And so we end another chapter of our lives and start a new one. The feeling is much akin to passing over state lines on a long road trip home; leaving the past behind and driving headlong into the future.

We will greatly miss, but always appreciate, our friends here in Austin, all the wonderful people we've met, and the fun things that we have done. Living for three years in the same city as my younger sister, for example, has been a dream come true for me, one that I have tried not to take for granted. I know I can leave this place knowing that I've made the best of the city and the people we know here. I have made many an effort to "keep Austin weird", swam in Barton Springs Pool, hiked on the Barton Creek Greenbelt more times than I can count, frequented the Alamo Drafthouse Cinemas, eaten a plethora of breakfast tacos, and two-stepped many a night at the Broken Spoke (Chaparral rocks!).

I have spent most of my time here loving this city. I remember our first night in Austin, falling asleep with a big ol' grin on my face! But my heart always seemed to be calling me home. Having a husband who grew up in my hometown has made it even harder to be away, since we both know many of the same people and pine for the same place on this earth. Perhaps moving home will be just another pit stop in the long journey of life, or maybe we will find it to be a perfect home base from which to go out and have many new adventures. Regardless, our heart strings have been pulled for many years by hundreds of goodbyes to family and friends, watching the mountains of our home fade in the distance as we drive away yet again. We will drive the road to Mercersburg this time knowing that a few goodbyes in Austin will yield a hundred hellos at home. I'm ready for this, as bittersweet as it will be.

Photo by Ryan Smith

Puttin' On the Ritz

Ryan and I celebrated our 1st wedding Anniversary yesterday. We were so excited to celebrate, both of us daunted by the rapid passing of time and rejoicing in all that we have done in our first year of marriage, such as starting a business. We also thought about our family and friends who gathered with us a year ago to witness our marriage in Pennsylvania. What a wonderful, albeit blustery, day it was. I have posted below a handful of photos from our anniversary celebrations, followed by a few reminiscent shots of our wedding day a year ago. We enjoyed our anniversary immensely, first getting muddy while hiking, swimming, and picnicking with friends, then getting gussied up and dining at the Mansion on Judge's Hill Restaurant here in Austin. Drinks and dinner were divine and we enjoyed the juxtaposition of the activities we partake in and enjoy together (getting very muddy, then allowing ourselves to be pampered). We hope you enjoy these photos as much as we have relished in the experience.

Wedding: June 10, 2006

Me and my "girls" at the rehearsal

Sadie, the flower girl

The handsome groom

Other People's Lives

Neighborhood. Just the word stirs up an array of iconic and nostalgic images of living side by side: porch swings, stray cats, driveways, shrubberies, abandoned cars, gables and eaves, metal trash cans… Our neighborhood of Bouldin Creek in South Austin has a particularly unique array of homes and yards, all nestled together, each an expression of personal style working in harmony and juxtaposition with the other. Ryan, Sadie (our dog), and I walked for an hour just the other evening through our ‘hood, dreaming of lives other than our own. We cherish our life together, of course, but a peek into other people’s lives offers new ideas and fresh perspectives about where we’re going and where we’ve come.

These walks offer an experience of simultaneous nostalgia and future dreams, like a film reel floating through my psyche as I walk past yards and houses. A butterfly lands on a flowery vine, a cat basks on a front stoop with her three kittens blinking at us as we pass, and a young couple gathers with friends on their cozy front porch for Friday evening drinks as the hazy sun comes to rest on the tree line. I am reminded of visits with family friends, enjoying the chance to be at their home and eat their food. Or of the potlucks my roommate and I used to host in our ranch-house apartment in Moscow, Idaho – hours of communal eating and drinking as the sun sank behind the trees and the moon joined our revelry. I yearn to be likewise sitting with friends again, like many times before.

I also look to the future as Ryan and I talk of our plans to one day own a home. We discuss certain things we like about some houses and other things we aren’t so fond of. For instance, we love front porches and green building, but are miffed by the modern homes that spring up between the little cottages, towering overhead like a behemoth: too pretentious! Sometimes, we love things about a yard or house we can’t quite explain; it is simply its ambiance that draws us to appreciate it. The owners may share similar ideologies about life, or they express something we admire in a creative way. We love to talk about what we will do when we own a house one day: entertain, garden, decorate, and tinker in the shed. These moments of looking ahead and dreaming of what we want provide nourishment for our spirits and our relationship. We have enjoyed thinking and talking about the future since we started dating 7 years ago.

Mostly, though, our walk is the convergence of the past and future in the present. My experience is the result of who I am and what I choose to notice and think about. Our experience together is the result of our personalities feeding off of and inspiring the other. Simply enjoying a quiet stroll through our neighborhood, one step at a time, purposefully taking our time to zigzag through the streets – we love our lives knowing others love theirs. Then we may return to our delightful little apartment and charmed lives, rejoicing in the fact that we don’t need anything but what we already have.