Why I Am Not at Home On a Plane

© Chace + Smith Photography

What is home to you?

I am a nervous flyer. That is to say, I am now, in my late 20s, a nervous flyer. I have flown my whole life, with company or by myself, with confidence and ease of mind. When I was a toddler, my family lived in Norway, flying often across the ocean and around Europe. Then, when I was ten, we moved to France for a year. I remember those plane rides more vividly, and while I may have experienced some air sickness, I never felt afraid for my life.

Now, some 19 years later, I have developed a fear I cannot explain. I recently flew back to Austin, TX, where I recently lived for 4 years. It had been over 3 years since I had flown, and while it was unacceptable NOT to take the flight, since it meant going somewhere fun and exciting, I was, nonetheless, apprehensive about how the experience would be. It's hard not to build something up in your head that you are afraid of if you haven't done it in some time.

I worked hard with my acupuncturist in the weeks prior to my trip to try and discover where these feelings might originate. One concept that came to light was my strong allegiance to "home." By this, I mean "home" in the literal sense, but also the visceral sense. Home is grounded, safe, and full of personal meaning. It can be in multiple places, and with various people. For instance, Austin is one of my homes, and so is Mercersburg, PA, Highland Lake, Moscow, ID, and Bainbridge, NY. Home means being with my loved ones, my husband, my dog. Home means having two feet on solid ground.

"Home" is not careening through the air at 30,000 feet.

My fear generates partially from the idea of "leaving" home, whether physically (i.e. getting in a plane and going somewhere far away) or figuratively (i.e. well...dying, and having to leave everything I know behind forever). Getting on a plane opens up the possibility for both. Of course, part of my fear is irrational, and I realize this, but it makes it no less potent and real experientially.

Another element that ties into my need for "home" is the idea of buoyancy. Think about the saying, "I feel light as a feather." I immediately picture Charlie Bucket and Grandpa Joe drinking "fizzy lifting drinks" and floating merrily up, up, up! The saying has positive connotations; it means you are happy, free-spirited, and unaffected by the trials of the world.

But buoyancy can also involve feeling so disconnected or untethered to any sense of "home" that you actually experience vertigo (picture that spinning fan at the top of the ceiling that suddenly turns Charlie and Grandpa Joe's experience into a nightmare). This is how I feel on a plane. If the pilot has to lower the plane in altitude to avoid turbulence, for instance, I easily lose my sense of groundedness and control, and mentally feel afraid that something is wrong with the plane (i.e. we're "going down"). Not a pleasant feeling. There is a reason I don't ride on roller coasters either. I have never enjoyed feeling like my stomach is in my throat. If only I could just burp away the fear, Willy Wonka style!

My recent flight experience ended up being somewhat fine, and somewhat distressing. On the way to Austin, I was determined to make flying a positive experience and focused on my reverence for the amazing flying machine in which I sat. I venerated the mechanical precision of the wings and engines, and the miraculous buoyancy of this gargantuan contraption. In those rational moments, I knew that planes are built to be in the air, and are actually safer when in flight, and that air travel is the safest form of travel. The return flight, on the other hand, was a bit bumpy, and I was faced with having to admit to myself the reality of my fear. Looking out the window, travel-weary from our crazy week in Austin, I just wanted the flight to be over and to be safe on solid ground, to regroup, and continue to work on this new fear of mine. Luckily my sister was with me, and handles flying quite well. It was nice to have her reassurance when the plane would make sudden dips in the sky.

My goal in working on this fear is to achieve a "buoyancy balance" (catchy, huh?), wherein I am rooted in self-control, mental ease, and confidence, but have a lightness in spirit, and a bounce in my step. This concept is helpful in everyday life, as well as in addressing any of the fears we may experience, whether they are ingrained or new ones surfacing without warning. Hopefully, I will achieve some balance with my fear of flying. After all, I have a lot of traveling left to do!

Do you ever feel like your "buoyancy" is unbalanced? Have you experienced new fears as you grow older that you never did before? What gives you a sense of "home"?

A Professional Dabbler: Deconstructed

In the middle of a busy week, I sit and ponder one of life's big questions. Well, at least one of MY life's big questions: am I spending my time doing what I really want to be doing? And what do I really want to do?

Do I want to be a professional musician?

• I have a gig tomorrow night with my sister as The Hello Strangers in Gettysburg. Luckily people like the way we sound since we have no posters, sound equipment, or any recordings beyond a 6-song demo to speak of. We have other gigs coming up that have been falling into our laps without any effort (which is good). But at what point are we going to take the next step? Or are we going to stay in this liminal pseudo phase forever?

Do I want to be a writer?

• I will be teaching at a Young Writers Camp in two weeks, which I have to plan for and convince these young middle school souls that I have some sort of legitimacy under my belt. I have thus put my writing for Hagerstown Magazine on hold for the time being. But yet I dabble...dabble, dabble in writing like everything else it seems.

Do I want to help run the photography business my husband and I own?

• I'm not the photographer - that's Ryan. But I do help out in many other areas such as accounting, production, creative input, etc. Yet, most of the time I am rushing through tasks at my desk before I run off to...

My part-time job at a screen printing and embroidery shop downtown, where I continue to show off my dabbling skills, doing anything from packing and hauling boxes, to ordering t-shirts and promotional products, to designing art on Adobe Illustrator.

Some days I just don't feel like a true musician, writer, business owner - a true anything.

Some days I feel like a fraud, really. We all have these days, don't we? Don't worry, I'm not falling into a pit of self-loathing and despair. Some days are just primed for such reflections.

I know there is a reason why I'm a professional freelancer and dabbler. I enjoy not having to do the same thing every day. But as a true perfectionist, I certainly reach moments when I feel like I have to do everything 100% with a 50% timeframe, energy, and focus level. At what point am I dabbling in too much?

Ah, life's big questions...

One thing I DO love doing: dancing with my girlfriends at Lithuanian Hall in Baltimore to old school soul and reggae!





It's summer, man, I gotta chill!

Confessions of an Overachiever

I have officially stretched myself to the max. After all my musings about time management, saying "no" to certain obligations, and balance, I have gone against all my suggestions and am thus at my tipping point.

How did I lose the balance in my life and time that I was so close to attaining? When I said "yes" to not 1, but 4 new voice students at our local private school. I feel I am a talented musician, but am not prepared to share my knowledge with four students. I currently have 3 different sources of income. Taking on 4 students seemed the best way to make extra money. But because I am essentially teaching myself how to teach others, I realized (last night in a moment of terror at the realization of what I have gotten myself into) that this would be a much larger endeavor than the amount of money I will be paid for it.

How do I know I am stretched? Because I have noticed a significant change in the way I complete other tasks and projects (such as writing in this blog). I am not able to put as much effort into just one thing because I have so many other projects going on at the same time. I freelance write, volunteer for our local arts council, help my husband run his business, work for a screen printing and embroidery shop downtown, and now have taken 4 voice students.

I fill my time with all these things for two main reasons:
1) Money - we are working hard at making our photography business succeed and I am trying to take every measure to help supplement our income.
2) Fear (here's the clincher) - fear of not being important because of having too much time on my hands or not accomplishing enough.

I thought I was making headway in the way of #2, but I realized last night that, almost without knowing it, I surpassed the boundary of what is "enough" for me and my time. I am confessing this to you this morning because I have to face my mistake today and make the necessary arrangements to bring my list of students down to 1. This is the amount I know I can handle with grace and focus. This is the balance mark.

I will learn from my mistakes and move on to a more balanced life.

We all have our tipping points and our balance marks. Have you had a similar experience to this one?

Today, I Find Inspiration in Everything

Today, the sun rises triumphantly over the fields next to my house. We have had few sunny days this winter, so the sight is breathtaking.

Today, I enjoy watching my dog chase a ball once or twice, then prance off to sniff more interesting things (she is not much of a ball dog).

Today, I notice the cool, soothing feeling of the milk as I eat my cereal.

Today, I silence the alarm bell on my email and respond to emails when I am ready, not every time I receive a message. I am not a slave to technology.

Today, I let the warm water from the shower linger on the back of my neck for just a few extra seconds.

Today, I dwell on happy thoughts and moments. I am present, relaxed, and alert, acknowledging the blessed life that I have.

Today, I give someone I love a hug and tell them how much they mean to me.

Today, I enjoy the sound of the scissors as I get my hair trimmed. The new, healthy strands make me feel refreshed and confident.

Today, I watch the birds at the feeder outside my kitchen window, grateful for their little noises and bodies. The world would be a very dull place without them.

Today, I Find Inspiration in Everything I can.

How do you find inspiration in your daily life?

Time On My Side, Part 2

When I made my resolution about reevaluating my relationship with time, and lowering my standards of how much I get done with my time, I was on vacation and had less on my to-do list. Now that I am several weeks into January, and have much more on my list, I have found this goal to be much more of a challenge than I had foreseen.

I think the big issue at hand is that I still “assign” myself too much. I am fighting my perfectionist urges (remember, I am a Virgo and first-born child) and trying to keep up with what “needs” to get done all at the same time. It’s a vicious cycle. And I often end up approaching certain tasks joylessly such as, “Oh god, I still need to send a baby gift to so-and-so, and I never seem to have time to sit down and knit that baby washcloth that I am making to give a meaningful gift and save money.” Do you ever have these thoughts? I mean, I seriously stress about this petty stuff!

I think this morning I am heading into my day with the urge to “pare down” my list to what I really feel will truly add value to my life and take me further toward my macro-goals.

I wish to let go of all the micro-management tasks that seem to pile up and send me into a frenzy of “I have so much to do,” which is not a pleasant feeling and often entirely untrue. My husband will often catch me walking through the house with furrowed brow, sighing while deep in thought about all the things I “have” to do. My stress often gets passed on to him, and that is not something I am proud of.

But can I just take things off my list without feeling guilty about not doing them? I know I have control over my thoughts and how I perceive things. But it’s often very difficult to harness those runaway, reeling thought patterns and focus on what is important – to focus on what I have accomplished, not what is left on my list.

Resolutions take time, so I will keep you posted on how I take on this challenge for the sake of bettering the quality of my life – and those around me.

Do you have any thoughts to share about how you perceive time? How do you pare down your list?

A Time and Place for Unhealthy Foods

My family hails from upstate New York, specifically the rural areas of Bainbridge and Walton, East of Binghamton. This is a land where nut-brown wood paneling and maroon vinyl adorn the bowling alleys and bars where my family gathers over the holidays. It is often bitterly cold outside during this time, the sun slanting early over the hills and the snow dust swirling like a lace curtain over the winding roads. Thus the cozy, dark corners of my Grandmother’s house and the local bars beckon us to gather there and linger for hours. This is vacation, after all, so I am always primed for a respite from my tidy routine. Good timing, since glistening popcorn balls, ribbons of strudel, scrumptious cakes and pies, succulent bacon, buttery mashed potatoes, golden fries and spicy hot wings suddenly besiege me. My sensory organs are piqued, my stomach ready to be commiserated and cheered.

I try to allow myself these few days away from my normal standards, but I am inexorably facing feelings of guilt deep in my psyche all the while. Why? Because I know too well the potential havoc these foods can wreak on my anatomy, and the environment to a great extent. But does it ever strike you as unfair that some of the best tasting foods are the worst for you?

No, I say, I will not be a patsy to my country’s gross obsession with fat and calories. It obviously has done nothing in the way of halting the spread of obesity and greed. Therefore, when faced with a platter of fried chicken tenders and fries that someone has ordered at the bowling alley my family often haunts during the holidays, I indulge in the name of tradition and celebration. It wouldn’t be fair to deny myself the full package of this experience, to not allow the wonder of comfort food to work its charm! The smell of the wing sauce, the glass rim of the beer bottle on my lips, the bowling saddle shoes on my feet, the sight of my family gathered together – the whole throw-my-reticence-to-the-wind experience must be fulfilled and relished; or these artifacts and scraps of nostalgia that illuminate my present life will fall prey to the wolves of dereliction. The scaffolding of my past will begin to decay with neglect. Thus, I indulge with reflection and gratitude, taking only enough to keep the wolves at bay, and leaving room for new memories to grow.

So go ahead, throw caution to the wind! Put an extra scoop of whipped cream on your hot cocoa and let the memories in!

How do you indulge and reminisce?

(Photo: My mom and I enjoy some holiday libations this Thanksgiving)

Creature Comforts (Part 3): Paring down, Thankful Eating

This topic happens to fall on the week of our national Thanksgiving celebration. I write this from my Grandmother’s house in upstate New York, where my family has gathered over good food and drink to give thanks for all of life’s bounties. I was initially going to entitle this post, “Mindful Eating,” but upon realizing that Thanksgiving is but a day away, I will deliver my simple message via a short prose, so that I can get back to celebrating with my family, and so can you.

I love to eat. Food is undoubtedly one of my favorite things. I admit, however, that I don’t always “respect” everything I put in my mouth, most often because I am aware that the ingredients may not be all that wholesome for my body but at that moment I am too tired, too hungry, or too transfixed by the sweet, glorious crunchy sugar coating (for example) to care. What follows is usually a mindless devouring of the food in front of me, briefly satisfying as it goes down my throat. But in the end, I am left with an empty hole in my gut, as if the food I just held in my hands was only a mirage in a vast, empty desert. This is a habit I work hard to change, but I can't always expect perfection. Special occasions such as Thanksgiving, however, are great opportunities to put change into practice.

This Thanksgiving, as you sit down to this special meal with your family, take a moment to look at each delicious item on your plate. Imagine the time and energy that has gone into each bite. Think about the people you love who have prepared it, and if you took part in the preparations, give thanks – to God, to the universe, whatever your preference – for your ability to help. Be not just mindful of each bite, but thankful as well. Consider this your one chance to enjoy each bite, chewing slowly with focus and intent. Consider this likewise your one chance to observe the people who surround you, giving thanks for each of them as you enjoy this meal together. Do this today and everyday after.

After all, taking one day at a time, one bite at a time, and one celebration at a time, is the essence of paring down. It means choosing simplicity, but never accepting an empty hole in your gut – the great paradox of balance. So if you love your mother’s pumpkin pie that you get to eat but once or twice a year, don’t deny yourself that extra slice. Being thankful means relishing as well as slowing down. It means filling the void with simple gifts.

Happy Thanksgiving!
Larissa


How do you give thanks everyday?

Creature Comforts (Part 3): Paring down: SHOPPING

Photo Ryan Smith ©

Continued from Paring Down, an introduction:

In regards to shopping and material possessions, how do we pare down without denying the happiness that can come with abundance?

I’m not going to deny it; sometimes money can provide happiness. As much as I am proud of my frugality and aptness at paring down, buying new things does provide a certain satisfaction when it comes to embracing and expressing my identity. But it is the simple enjoyment of each item I acquire that allows me to be mindful of when I have enough and when I just have too much.

I know a lot of people who buy something just because it is on sale. This is an easy way to quickly attain too much. I try to go shopping with a list of things I need (and “need” is subjective isn’t it?) and only buy those things. If something is on sale, great! If not, I usually base the level of need on the price and either take it or leave it. I try to be a selective and mindful shopper; as I hear my products beeping across the scanner at checkout, I pretend I am a kid in a candy store, ogling at what I am able to buy.

Ultimately, balance is the goal here: my $300 pair of cowgirl boots from Austin, Texas is one of my most prized material possessions. But though they sit on a shelf to be admired, I wear them (and dance in them) several times a week and have them repaired and cleaned often. Lesson: splurge when the time is right, but cherish the heck out of the purchase and admire it daily. Once you stop admiring or wearing an item, which often happens, give it away. This will de-clutter your mind and your closet, providing a new perspective on the wonderful things you still hold dear.

Also, take the time to go through that overflowing attic or that spare room full of stuff you’ve been meaning to sort through. Donate or recycle anything you no longer wear frequently, or that no longer serves an aesthetic or emotional purpose in your home. You will hopefully find that paring down is even more rewarding than filling up your shopping cart. Don’t save it for a rainy day! There’s no better time than now to initiate positive change in your life.

P.S. This also applies to buying gifts. Give fewer, more meaningful gifts – be excessive with warm complements and good cheer!

What are your most prized possessions and in what ways do you cherish them? What are your shopping habits and how do you pare down in regards to material possessions?

Creature Comforts (Part 3): Paring down, an Introduction

“In spite of illness, in spite even of the archenemy of sorrow, one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in small ways.”
- Edith Wharton

After a brief interlude, I continue my Creature Comforts series with another idea about how one might find a happy medium between comfort and precariousness. This topic will be presented in several parts since it is one worth deliberating on. Within these parts, I will hash out the notion of paring down: What does it mean to pare down in a society where more equals more? How can we pare down in a way that doesn’t deny us our happiness? And what’s the point? This section will serve as my introduction, followed by several posts that provide specific examples of how one might pare down.

“Simplify Life” is a notion that has gained more and more prevalence during the twenty-first century thus far. With all the choices available to us, and our burgeoning consumer habits, we are crying out for simplicity in the hopes of finding a more wholesome way to nourish our souls. As a culture, we often look back on the “good old days” as examples of how simple and easy life used to be. Things tend to seem as though they were better back then. Problem is, the people living “back then” looked to their pasts for the same inspiration. Thus, we must find ways to carve out simplicity in our present lives, lest we trap ourselves in an endless web of nostalgia. This can involve giving up some of our creature comforts, but in the end I truly believe it is worth the sacrifice.

Despite the heralds of gloom and doom about the shrinking middle class and lack of sufficient health care, my life as a North American feels downright cushy. Perhaps part of the reason I feel this way is due to my sunny disposition; I don’t often want for much and am generally satisfied with what I have. But I did indeed grow up in a country where it is easy to live comfortably, speaking subjectively of course, on teacher’s salaries. My parents, both teachers, had four children, and though I couldn’t always get the outfit or toy that I wanted, my basic needs were met and I had a blissfully happy childhood (no lie!). Essentially, I learned to rejoice in small ways and dream about big things (like the quote above). I believe this is the crux of the debate about frugality, prosperity, and simplicity in our abundant and plush society. It is the moral to this story.

So, what is the point of paring down?

I am going to be a bit extreme here and say it is our responsibility to pare down in everything we do day to day. It is our duty to limit in any ways we can the strain we put on our natural resources. Sure, spending bolsters the economy and we, as consumers, are what drive this capitalist machine. But it is easy to get more than we need or ask for in our society, e.g. whopping helpings at restaurants. Gladly, it isn’t hard to break the habit of accepting blindly what is placed in front of us. The point? Paring down is the simplicity we’re searching for, and it is not as hard to attain as we might think.

I look forward to reading your thoughts and comments about this topic in this and the following posts. Enjoy this great day!

Creature Comforts (Part 2): Be a Pioneer!

In my last post, I asked the following questions: How can we help but opt for the comfort that surrounds us? And is there a happy medium? Ultimately, at the heart of these questions lies the purpose of this blog: to live each day to the fullest. I got some wonderful comments in response to this topic, and I invite you to peruse them and supply your own thoughts. In this post, I will continue my Creature Comforts series and offer insights and personal experiences in order to explore how one might find a happy medium between comfort and precariousness (several proceeding posts will feature more on this topic, so please stay tuned).

BE A PIONEER!
The first time I ever felt like a true pioneer was when I moved with my boyfriend-now-husband from the East Coast to the wilds of Idaho. This would be the first time I would live in a place where none of my family members (or probably even ancestors) had ever lived. Likewise, I couldn’t help but feel like a pioneer in Idaho, knowing that so many settlers had traversed the central plains of our nation to reach this wonderful land of extremes: big spaces, towering mountains, and rushing, icy rivers. Vulnerability took on a different meaning going from city life in Boston (where I went to college) to a state whose entire population hovers around 1 million. I could dare to do things in Idaho that I never would have back East: snowshoeing to the top of Moscow Mountain just outside of our town and snowboarding back down through fresh powder, barely seeing another human all day; rafting across the Salmon River with friends and hiking to hidden hot springs up the side of the canyon, then rafting back down the river in the dark to our private beach where we slept in the open air; traversing 60 miles of river through the Labyrinth Canyon of the Green River with three friends (OK, that was Utah) battling spells of cold rain, slower than expected currents (therefore lots of rowing), reading stories to keep our minds off the slow pace, and living out of a small raft equipped with only a cooler, some gear, a Groover, and my guitar. I might add that none of these activities cost very much money, though good ol' resourcefulness was required to make them happen.

The thing I took away from these marvelous experiences, and the lesson I wish to impart on my readers, is that I was in fact opting not to be comfortable in all three of those scenarios (actually, very uncomfortable in some circumstances). The uncertainty and precariousness of each situation allowed me to define myself as an adventuress, a pioneer, and a more fulfilled person. Ultimately, we do have a choice in the matter, and choosing to challenge the boundaries of our comfortable lives as often as possible is the wisest option if you are interested in seeing how full your life on this earth can be. It is certainly not easy to go beyond one's zone of comfort, but I'll never forget how it felt to slip under crisp, white motel sheets after 5 days on a cold, murky, and dreadfully slow river. For it is the juxtaposition of vulnerability and safety that make being inside and outside of comfort so worthwhile. Indeed, the great part of living in a society that is so navigable is that you can find a happy medium and live a comfortable, daring, and meaningful life. It all depends on what "meaningful" means to you.

Of course, you don’t have to go “into the wild,” so to speak, to be a pioneer or adventurer. The goal is to find opportunities or circumstances that will spark that ember of bravery that lives inside of you, master it, and put it into action. This can involve an enlightening personal journey through nature or paving the way for change in human rights, cancer research, or environmental policies, to name a few.

Being a pioneer is not something that is necessarily accomplished in one day or sitting, so it is important to think of small steps to take that will allow a pioneering goal to come to fruition. And don’t think you have to climb Mount Everest to be a pioneer. The smallest acts can often make the biggest difference.

My latest pioneering achievement was moving with my husband and business from Texas to our tiny hometown in Pennsylvania. It was a risky and precarious decision but I have already noticed the benefits that came with it. I feel more connected to my community, family and friends and see small but wonderful things happening everyday.

What are your pioneering achievements or goals?
In what ways do you opt to go "outside" of comfort?

Pressing Your Restart Button

Last night, Ryan and I went camping with friends on Lake Travis, near Austin. It was Ryan’s birthday and we planned on celebrating with swimming, beer, and grilled food. I was looking forward to getting out of the city, but found once I got there that it was hard to relax, especially around a group of people. It took several hours, and a few beers, before my mind-frame began to shift and I settled into my surroundings and our activities. I felt restless, like I wanted to be by myself and reconnect somehow; press my "restart button", so to speak. But this trip was something we had all been planning and I knew these opportunities didn’t come along too often, so I wanted to make sure to enjoy my time with friends, and be present and enthusiastic about celebrating my husband’s birthday.

I tend to be a fairly out-going and friendly person, so when I am in a quiet, pensive mood, people notice and often ask if I am OK. This question can often make me feel defensive, as if I need to explain why I am in an “alternative” mood from the norm. It takes a lot of inner patience in these situations not to draw even more attention to my mood and answer, “Yes, I’m fine, OK?!?!” This response isn’t going to make me feel better (or the person who asked the question), so I find it more worthwhile to focus on my breath and ease through these inquiries with a smile. I know I’ll get out of my funk sooner or later and finding ways to make a smooth transition out of a bad mood can often prevent regret for my snappy comments or reactions later. I fared pretty well yesterday, and eventually was greatly enjoying being away from the city and with friends by the lake (see photo below).

This morning, when I awoke from my hazy sleeping bag fluff, I felt even more present as we spent the morning drinking coffee and chatting peacefully. I greatly enjoy mornings in general, but at this point, after a full day of camping, I felt that my restart button had been sufficiently pressed. I think of my days as a middle-schooler, playing Nintendo and enjoying the satisfaction of pressing the restart button and watching a fudged-up game disappear and a new chance presented as the game begins again. I find many simple ways each day to press my own restart button, but sometimes an overnight trip to the woods is a reminder of how long it can take to feel “restarted”. It can take several weeks of vacation in many cases to feel sufficiently refreshed. But no matter how long it takes, it is important to pay attention to the various moods we go through during these periods of rejuvenation, good or bad. Not every moment of a vacation or playtime is going to be perfect. The bad moods or moments are just as important as the good and can make the experience even more real and special once you resurface into a good-feeling phase. The goal is to be patient with oneself through the good and the bad, for this is the balance of life (the yin and yang). In what ways do you press your restart button?

The birthday boy gets ready for some fun (and beer) in the sun

You can probably tell that my mood had lifted by this point!

Time On My Side

My dog, Sadie, walks up to the screen door and looks back at me. “Will you let me out, please?” her eyes ask. I open the door and she walks out with clear intent: to flop down in the big patch of late-afternoon sun pooling on our balcony floor. She does so with no other purpose in mind but to lie down in it and soak it up, save for the occasional fly buzzing by that catches her attention. I watch as her ribs start to expand and contract at a slightly faster clip. Eventually, she sits up and is in full pant, but still seems to be drinking up the sun like a pint of Guinness, eyes fluttering in canine ecstasy. Time progresses for her in a different way than it does for me. She is an inspiration, not just because of the simplicity of her nature, but because she only does one thing at a time. And because she does not have to go to work, “accomplish” things on her to-do list, or think ahead to what she is going to eat for dinner, time is never of-the-essence for her.

My relationship with time, on the other hand, is much akin to the relationship I once had with my 6th Grade Reading teacher, a nun and former catholic schoolteacher who always seemed to take everything a little too seriously. This was public school after all, not purgatory. I always had one eye on her, thinking that at any moment she would sneak up behind me and catch me doing something I wasn’t supposed to (like slipping my shoes on and off distractedly under my desk, god forbid!). I was rather petrified of her, actually, and would get so nervous some mornings before catching the bus to school that I would get sick to my stomach and ask to stay home. Yet, for some reason, I always wanted to get on her good side, get to know her a little better, and try to understand why she was so…well, mean! The fear of her, after all, came from the complete lack of control I felt I had when I was in her classroom. Even asking to go to the bathroom felt like original sin. Funny how being nervous all the time does little to bolster one’s reading skills. I don’t remember a single book I read that year. But I made it through, relatively unscathed, with one lesson to hold on to: there are some things in life you cannot control, you just handle them as best you can, try not to vomit, and move on. Time is something I will never be able to control either. But time and I need some relationship counseling. I want to have time on my side again.

In high school, I used to sway my hips back and forth and sing, “Tiiiiiiiime is on my side, yes it is!” a line from the Rolling Stones song. Time felt friendly and constant back then, so it seems from my current perspective. More and more, when I take a moment to check the clock I experience a second of utter shock and horror (flash back to reading class), wondering what happened to the last hour of my life and thinking how much I still want to do. Admittedly, I put a lot on my plate each day and expect to get most of it done. I never do, and never will, and I have yet to accept this. I still haven’t learned my lesson.

There is hope, however, in that we DO have agency over our relationship with time. Meditation is one of the ways in which I can purposefully slow my breath, my mind, and thus, my perception of time. Because time is relative and elusive, what matters is our perception of it and the steps we take each day to foster a loving, not fearful, relationship with time. I continue to work hard at this because I feel it is essential to living a good, happy life. Like my panting dog on the balcony, I will strive to go through each day with clear intent and focus, and just try to allow life to happen as it is meant to, not how I plan for it to be.

Addicted to Non-Fiction

I am a non-fiction junkie. While in my youth I may have curled up with a good book, these days I curl up with a good dose of information, via magazines mostly, and the occasional email newsletter. I devour page after page, always coming back for more, poring through magazines from cover to cover (I’m not much of a skimmer). You may wonder why this could be construed as a negative thing – why, in fact, I am using the word “junkie” to describe something that I essentially enjoy doing. Simply put, I wish to offer a narrative concerning the vast amount of information that is available to us on a daily basis, particularly to women via the magazine industry. Is it possible that we’ve become non-fiction addicts? How do we mediate the vast amount of information available to us?

I have three magazine subscriptions (my guilty-pleasure, “isn’t-it-great-to-be-a-woman” reading): Self, Domino, and Real Simple…oh, and Vegetarian Times, but I consider this magazine to be in a different category than the others since it is not as much of an “indulgence” for me reading-wise (though it does offer indulgent recipes). I also read our local newspaper daily, and with the remainder of time I have in my day for reading (which isn’t much) I peruse the web for political and environmental issues, news headlines, petitions, and blogs. If I find I am slacking in any of these areas, I begin to fear I might be missing out on key pieces of information, without which my journey “through the goalposts of life” will be miscalculated somehow, drop-kicking me into vast, unknown regions of ignorance and despair. If April comes and my March magazine issues have not been read, I resolve to read more vigilantly until I get caught up. I get frustrated when I don’t have enough time to read interesting articles on the web or sign petitions. I want to be able to read my friend’s blog, know what’s going on in Africa, and save the world all at the same time! This addiction to information is fueled, of course, by the fact that it is in endless supply. I often picture the world wide web as that ever-expanding universe we call home (how can something that defies time and space be expanding?!?!). I will never be able to read everything there is to read. So why do I care so much? Why does it matter that I read every gosh-darned magazine each month?

I am particularly drawn to the topics of exercise and nutrition. I have done enough research on these subjects to warrant a degree in them, at least that is how it feels. Thanks to the information I have gleaned over the years, I am proud to say that I have never succumbed to diet or workout fads and have managed to maintain healthy habits overall. A caveat, however, arises when I am out for a run and start to wonder if I am pushing myself above my “heart rate threshold” and therefore burning muscle instead of fat (oh, no!). Or I will happen upon an article stating that running compacts muscles, and thus the thighs that I have been known to obsess about will not, after all, get thinner because of this form of exercise (oh, my god). My head wants to explode at this point. But I love to run! And darn it, I'd rather be strong than skinny any day! But what do I do with all this information? Then I look at my husband, who just runs for the fun of it and doesn’t give a moment’s thought to whether or not he is burning fat or muscle. When I run with him, I sometimes think to myself, “That’s not fair! Why do women have to worry so much about such stupid things?” I will save pushing the gender argument for now, but the fact is, having so much information at one’s disposal can be more menace than help.

So, will I stop reading these magazines and try to wean myself off my non-fiction addiction? Well, no, at least not for now. What I need is to find a way to enjoy reading about these topics while moderating how the information affects me. I appreciate that I am interested in many different things and perform daily activities like reading and learning whole-heartedly. As always, it’s about balance; knowing when you are “reading” into things so much that you have trouble getting out and recreating for the joy of it (like riding a horse!). How do you moderate the information in your life?

Letting Go of Logistics

This entry was originally posted on my friend's blog: www.karlstaib.com. I thought I would feature it on my blog and reference Karl's wonderful blog as well. Enjoy!

This past January, I made only one resolution. I usually make a list of goals to check off as the year goes by. This year, however, I felt like I could sum up my wishes and goals for 2007 in one sentence: “Live each day for the joy of it and stop stalling on all the logistics.” This loosely translates to, “Life is a Journey, not a Destination.” Being a Virgo, a first-born child of four, and a hyper-organized person, this resolution has, for the past several months, proven to be the best one I have ever made.

I like to be in control…of everything. This trait has become more noticeable over the years as levels of responsibilities have increased, and life has come to seem more and more fragile. Grad school really did me in. I went from shunning a planner to being an addict, toting it along with me like a trusty water bottle. Water is the source of life; a planner is not. I didn’t realize the degree to which I was allowing logistics to influence my short and long-term decisions. This boiled down to developing a fear of the unknown or unexpected, and pushing away the possibility of living spontaneously. I could vaguely remember a time when people described me as “happy-go-lucky.” That title implies a sense of uncalculated whimsy, doesn’t it? It means that I was perceived, at least, as being happy and optimistic despite the occasional mishap or, how do you say…”logistical error.” When and how did I become so off-kilter and how could I find that same sense of whimsy and balance in my adult life?

I live an incredibly easy life and have come to believe that humans create their own happiness within the context of their lives. Likewise, we create our own misery, even within the context of an easy life. Negativity manifests itself underneath my eyelids before waking some mornings like a fog rolling in. We’ve all woken up at some point feeling “off” without being able to figure out why. This, of course, leaves us with a sense of having lost control of our emotions somewhere along the way, whether during sleep or as a result of an occurrence during the day. How can we push through this fog of negativity quickly and efficiently and live each day simply for the joy of it? And can we do it without implementing control and force?

For me, this is where my resolution comes in. A logistic is what gets us from point A to point B. It is the plan we have to make for the future that prevents us from enjoying what is going on in the present.
Certainly, it pays to plan ahead in many circumstances and a well-laid plan is often preferred. But when logistics cause us to feel overwhelmed and stressed, then it is clear that we are spending too much time and energy on them. We have thus relinquished control to the Great To-Do List of Life.

Since making my resolution, I have responded to this dilemma by doing the following: When I am bothered by something that is not happening in the present moment (i.e. something that I’m going to have to deal with later), I give myself a silent cue and take a deep breath to shift my focus to the present moment. Dwelling on it now is not allowing me to feel happy now. I am stalling on negativity and not doing justice to my hour/day/life. “Now” has its own array of experiences and emotions and I might miss out on them if I am simply planning ahead and worrying about logistics.

I have started to say each morning upon waking, before any other thoughts about the day are allowed to creep in, “This is going to be a great day. Today is my one chance to have a great day.” It’s a simple endeavor, and doesn’t involve force or control as long as you put your mind to it first thing. It puts all my focus on just one day, which is much less overwhelming than thinking about everything I’m going to have to do over the next week/month/year. It also limits my To-Do list to one goal, having a great day, which is a lot easier than thinking about all the little things that need to be done. Having a great day is a subjective experience and, as I mentioned before, you control (for lack of a better word) whether your day, no matter what happens good or bad, is happy or miserable. It is a choice and having a choice is a very happy thing.

Larissa Chace Smith, 3/31/07

Elbowroom

I love to have balance in my life. I think balance is one of the most important elements to living a good life, actually. This week was very well balanced, most likely because I remained aware of what my body needed and what my spirit wanted. Luckily I have a husband who has similar needs and wants, and listens to those urges most of the time. Each of us has to be flexible with our own plans in order to keep in mind the other’s plans and ideas. Also, it is important as a married couple not to cling too tightly to the plans we make together in case a friend should call and ask us to go out to pizza, for example. I am happy to accept friends’ invitations because these outings are so important to nurturing relationships and making room for spontaneity on a day-to-day basis. Sometimes, however, it is important to know when you just want to stick to your own plan and nurture something inside yourself that is not necessarily shared by anyone else. We must give ourselves elbowroom to live a good, balanced life.

I felt incredibly drained and irritable by the end of last week. I stayed up late Tuesday night drinking tequila with friends, which was fantastically fun, but I did not give myself the time and space I needed the rest of the week to balance myself out. I went out again on Thursday night with friends to see a great Austin band. Though it was a nice evening I felt irritable most of the time and expended even more energy just trying to be a nice person. You know that feeling when you just feel like you should have stayed home, alone and grumpy? I should have done just that; reserved some time for myself and focused on activities that would rejuvenate my body and mind.

I did a much better job this week. My husband and I were very productive for the first three days of the week, not consuming any alcohol, eating well, exercising daily, and getting a lot of work done. By Thursday, our plans to go two stepping at the Broken Spoke (pictured here) were met with open arms and I enjoyed a night out with my sister and friend, drinking pitchers of Lone Star beer and dancing with abandon. I even threw in a shot of tequila, went to an all-night diner afterward for some tasty, fatty food and went to bed at 1:30 am or so, way past my bedtime! I didn’t overdo it, though, which is possible if you just keep that goal in the back of your mind (way back there!). I was more tired than usual on Friday, but man was it worth it to just have that one night during the week to let go of my standards and personal “rules” and have a great time! Had I not woken up in the morning, I would have died a happy person. I made sure to meditate upon waking Friday morning, then I ate well and focused on my work. And when we got a call from a friend to go out to pizza and beer that evening, I accepted with glee, but kept my consumption to a minimum and went to bed at an earlier hour. Sometimes I want to drink and dance, or hike all day, and sometimes I just need to hole up and be a homebody. It’s important to realize which option I want/need to choose.

Giving yourself certain “allowances”, though it may sound restricting, is important to living a balanced life. Balance is all about moderation, the happy medium, and that takes practice, focus, and determination. I believe there is such a thing as being too healthy, and we all know being too drunk all the time doesn’t work out so well either (tee hee). When I wake up in the morning and say, “This is going to be a great day,” this means allowing myself to be healthy and have fun, which can be one and the same, or not. This level of balance is just the kind of elbowroom I need. What ways do you keep balance in your life?