on checked lists

gpa, check. internship, check. attend event, check. apply for job, check. networking, check. respond to emails, check. self care, check?
the college culture of productivity often has me feeling inadequate. am i doing enough? am i involved in enough? social media has become a platform people use to boast their productivity, which indirectly breeds an atmosphere of competition. i get that this productivity culture could be motivational and push us to do our best and aim higher, but it sometimes feels like a toxic space that makes it hard to celebrate the achievements of others because of envy, and even harder to celebrate our own because nothing ever feels like enough.
i’m not sure if i wrote this for you or more of a reminder to my self, that you are not your productivity. you are enough. you are doing enough, and in fact you don’t have to be doing anything at all. waking up is productive. breathing eating sleeping is productive. spending hours in the dining hall chatting about the meanderings of life with those you love is productive. taking care of your self is productive. perhaps the most productive thing you can do.
we have to get out of this existence of always being in a state of “getting my life together”. we have to be mindful of how this lifestyle chips away at our mental health and snatches contentment from arm’s reach. we have to. dare to create your own measurement of what it means to be productive and live by that rather than ascribing to the world’s. dare to readefine what success means to you. because the prize for this world’s productivity is a checked list and a tired heart. the prize for living life on your terms is priceless.

e.

interlude

they call it writers block,
i call it my mind as hostage to my pen wishing it’ll release me through words that will pull apart these iron bars caging my creativity. i looked up the cure — the blueprint to show me the way to myself. As Solange would say, I tried to sleep it away. i tried to scrub it away with long showers. i tried to pray it away. and when i thought i’d broken free, there i was at the intersection of the truth and the thing i’d been avoiding looking at.
depression has a way of stealing away your motivation for the thing you love, the thing that fuels you, in my case my writing. as a generally optimistic person, these episodes feel like a war between my true self and this other self that doesn’t understand joy even when it’s plain as day in my face. it even numbs the urge to succumb to the itch of my fingers to write it away.
one thing that has been helping me return to myself has been the epiphany that even though i’m an introvert who recharges her energy through isolation, i have access to tons of good energy that surrounds me that i only need to accept and tap into rather than reject. the universe naturally likes to restore order after chaos — let it. let it even if it means sitting with the discomfort of vulnerability because the restoration comes in the form of your best friends with the big ears to listen to you. it comes in the form of warm hugs and silence because they understand the art of listening. let others be there for you. let the universe do it’s thing of healing. cooperate with nature. it is kind.

e.

on letting the light in

he had tattoos all over his body, long grey hair and piercings, and spoke like someone who has seen it all. i squinted to read the words on his shirt correctly from the very last row because i’d walked in late. “There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” i simply couldn’t resist writing this quote down. it seemed to set the tone for what this class is going to be like. critical philosophical theory. should be interesting. i’ll be sure to keep you posted on the impending existential crisis.

this first week of classes has been something. from almost slipping from ice that had yet to melt from the random snow storm, to panicking because two important classes i need are both at 11am on tuesday and thursday. to an argument that ended up reshaping how i think about things. i learned my emotions are not unique to me, and that whatever i’m feeling towards someone, they’ve 99.9 percent experienced that emotion at some point too. i learned that no one actually means to hurt you with their words most of the time, no matter how hostile they come across. most importantly, it dawned on me that people just want to feel supported and to be told that they make sense. in fact, most conflict is born from feeling like we don’t make sense to the other person, rather than feeling they aren’t making sense.

a friend told me recently they feel like my life is perfect. i was shocked because it is far from it actually. i never really share my struggles mainly because i prefer to sweep them under the rug and pretend they’re not there or i rather talk about it with God. in a society that broadcasts only smiling faces on social media, it’s easy to assume the status of someone’s life. having the label of perfection projected onto me made me realize that i probably also place that label on others based on how their life looks from my perspective.

for some reason perfect has a negative connotation to me. i want to embrace my cracks and imperfections because they allow for the light to get in. in fact, without them the light cannot get in. i hope this resonates in your heart the next time you’re feeling like your cracks are overwhelmingly big. you are not broken. you’re simply making room for the light.

i hope you had a beautiful week:)

e.

on flowers

we’re here. we made it. we are still breathing and it’s lit.
i think rupi kaur put it best when she wrote what she learned from 2016. “i learned everything is temporary. moments. feelings. people. flowers. i learned love is about giving. everything. and letting it hurt. i learned vulnerability is always the right choise because it is easy to be cold in a world that makes it so very difficult to remain soft.”

absorbing these lessons, it’s clear to me what my mantra for 2017 was destined to be: sow.

sow. | verb

  1. to plant seed for growth by scattering
  2. to set something in motion
  3. to introduce into a selected environment

the many definitions of this word is why i think it’s perfect for this new season in my life because it’ll allow for reoccurance in every situation and moment this year has in store.

to me, sowing mean to plant what i want to reap because nothing ever grew where it wasn’t sown. to invest in something with a heart of patience, knowing that something has been set in motion from what i have sown. whether i can see results or not, trusting that sowing is the catalyst for blooming.

in 2017 i will sow softness, patience, and forgiveness into my relationships with people. often times i’m too quick to respond and tend to hold onto negative feelings longer than is healthy. i know that sowing softness into my daily interactions will build stronger relationships where vulnerability thrives.

i will sow my time into an organization (i’m picking only one to be realistic with myself and to make sure that i am giving the best of myself and not a half hearted piece) in hopes of impacting my community.

i will sow into adulting by setting money aside to pay off my student loans, as well as seeking opportunities that will contribute more funds to that cause. it’s my dream to graduate debt free.

i will sow into my mental health by taking time to journal often, by taking time to self care through talking walks, taking myself on adventure dates, and reading the books i’ve been wanting to read. by being honest with myself and my friends when asked if i’m okay, and to talk out my feelings.

most importantly, i will sow into my spiritual health by intentionally making time to spend fellowshiping, and by listening to Hillsong’s Let There be Light album *heart eyes* — it’s gold. go check it out. you’re welcome in advance.

happy new year to you, and cheers to many blooms in all aspects of your life in this new year!

what word are you living by in 2017?

e.

on mapless road trips

when my dad called G and i this morning to get ready for church, our first response was to groan because we were still tired from last night’s New Year’s Eve party which we got home from around 3am. we washed our crusty eyes and dressed lazily in contrast to how we usually like to slay to church.
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