My backpack contents in a year and two months:
THE INVITATION
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it’s not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children. It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
You can’t put a deadline on finding where your heart lies. Your passions, what you genuinely care about, what you hold dear to you… You don’t just trip over them on your daily walk to campus. You must travel and learn different cultures. You must meet new and extraordinary people of different tastes, aspirations, goals, and visions. You must surround yourself with these extraordinary people, and gain a vision of what you yourself think extraordinary is defined to be. Then, hopefully, you will be able to follow a dream whole-heatedly.
I talk to so many people on a daily basis. My job is to talk to people, learn about people and their daily functions. Almost every day I meet an individual who is truly an individual. I learn more about myself vicariously through their stories and their passion induced aura. And I always ask those whose aura glows so brightly how they got to their conclusion of pursuing such wild dreams, and the short synopses of their are never the same, yet they hold a similar motif: to strive to be whole heartedly happy.
You’re already naked. There’s no reason not to follow your heart.
This isn’t meant to be well written. Just getting my thoughts out there.
Fall is coming. My favorite time of the year to wear clothes (what seasons do I not wear clothes? never). I’ve been at home the last few days because of Hurricane Irene, so I’ve been spending a lot of time doing some online shopping. I’ve really got to stop. It is surely going to be the death of me. Some decisions I need to make as I consider which shoes I will purchase for the fall/winter season… drop the dough on a super quality pair of boots, or just drop < $150 for a sub-par, but good enough pair of boots. I have no damn clue what to do. I’m kind of leaning towards my credit card biting the bullet.
Quoddy for J.Crew leather chukka boots (via: J.Crew)
Eastland Seneca Tan Waxed Leather (via: Need Supply)
Oiled leather MacAlister Boots (via: J.Crew)
Clarks Weaver Boot
Decisions… decisions…
How many mini vacations have I had this summer? 2? 3? I don’t remember most of them (alcohol may have been involved). As of late, I’ve been working like a champ. That 40 hour week work is no joke. Good thing I love my job. But who doesn’t appreciate some time away?
Allow me to wish my homegirl Katrina Managanaganagana a Happy Birthday. For her birthday we went to New York City and tried to eat every kind of food you can imagine, and why not some drinking and shopping too? It was nice getting away, doing whatever I wanted to, seeing my cousins, learning how to get around, and getting my first cab. Apparently the last one is easier for taller people.
Unfortunately I only have pictures of food, so enjoy.
Be really attractive. Your acne is gone, your face has matured without having wrinkles and everything on your body is lifted naturally. Eat bagels seven days a week, binge-drink and do drugs: you’ll still look like a babe. When you turn thirty, it’ll become a different story but that’s, like, not for a really long time.
Reestablish a relationship with your parents. You don’t live with them anymore (hopefully) so start to appreciate them as human beings with thoughts, flaws and feelings rather than soulless life ruiners who won’t let you borrow their car.
Go from eating delicious food at your parents’ house to eating Ragu tomato sauce over Barilla noodles. Develop an eating disorder to save money.
Move into an apartment on the corner of Overpriced and Dangerous. Sleep on a bare mattress with an Ikea comforter. Your mother talks to you about buying a top sheet and a duvet cover but feel like you’re not mature enough to own something called “duvet.”
“Date people who you know you’ll never be able to love.”
Read the New York Times piece, “What Is It About 20-Somethings?” Feel exposed and humiliated. Share it on your Facebook with the caption: “Um….” Your friends will comment “Too real” and that will be the end of that.
Work at a coffee shop but feel hopeful about your career in advertising, writing, whatever. Remember that you’re young and that the world is your oyster. Everything is possible, you still have so much to see and hear. You went to a good school and did good things. Figure if you’re not going to be successful, who the hell is?
Date people who you know you’ll never be able to love. See someone for three months for no other reason than because it’s winter and you want to keep warm by holding another body. Date a Republican just so you can say you dated a Republican.
Eventually all these nobodies will make you crave a somebody. Have a real relationship with someone. Go on vacations together, exchange house keys, cry in their arms after a demoralizing day at work. Think about marrying them and maybe even get engaged. Regardless of the outcome, feel proud of yourself for being able to love someone in a healthy way.
Start your twenties with a lot of friends and leave with a few good ones. What happened? People faded away into their careers and relationships. Fights were had and never resolved. Shit happens.
Think of yourself at twenty and hanging out with people who didn’t mean a thing to you. Think about writing papers, about being promiscuous, about trying new things. Think of yourself now and your face looking different and your body feeling different and how everything is just different.
Form the habits that will stick with you forever. Drink your coffee with two sugars and skim milk every morning. Buy a magazine every Friday. Enjoy spending money on candles, smoke pot on Saturdays, watch the television before bed.
Move into a bigger apartment on the corner of Mature and Gentrification and finally buy a duvet cover. Limit your drug-use. If you find yourself unable to do so, start to wonder if you have a problem.
Have your parents come to your place for Christmas. Set the table, make the ham, wear a sophisticated outfit, This will all mean so much at the time.
Think about having children when you stop acting like a child. This may not ever happen.
Maybe this is assuming too much. Maybe this is generalizing. Maybe society uses age as an unrealistic marker for growth. Maybe. Still feel the anxiety on your 30th birthday and think to yourself, “Oh shit, I’m no longer a 20-something.”
Via: Thought Catalog
Have you ever seen me really, REALLY drunk? My close friends can DEFINITELY vouch for me when I say that I will never tell you that I’m drunk. I will literally say, “Naw, I’m straight man” and be throwing up 20 minutes later (ya know in X5Ms and kitchens and shit. Sorry everybody!). I never want to let someone know that I’m not okay. I don’t want them to have to worry about me even though that 20 minutes later there’s someone holding a bag under my face. I love my friends to death, and I’d want to take care of them at any time, but why do lie about how I’m feeling? I don’t quite understand my tactics.
Have you ever seen me in a committed relationship? Unless you physically saw us fighting, I would guarantee you that we were doing great. Only the closest of friends really knew when something was going wrong. This is the same situation as before. I want to be open to them and help them through hard times, why do I choose to do it by myself?
Here’s my problem. No matter what I do, I hide my feelings. I don’t want people to have to worry about me, or give me their sympathy or their time. I know I’m not an emotionless person. I just don’t need you to know that my home life isn’t what its all cracked up to be. Maybe I just choose not to show when I’m upset about something small, or when I’m pissed that you’re late. I WILL on the other hand flick you off on the road. If you ask me, I’ll be honest about anything or I’ll tell you I can’t answer that at that question at that time.
Eventually I’ll let someone worry about me, but for now I’ll keep to myself.
