Please?

Is it so wrong to want this sometime/where in my future...On the weekends maybe?

Balloons

While driving through the mountains of Mexico for our weekly trip to San Miguel De Allende last week, I thought extensively about how to answer the frequent question regarding my decision to continue playing soccer following such a traumatic injury: "is it really worth it?". While I have spent the last nine months trying to answer this question myself, it was a relief to finally reach some clarity, which I am happy to say applies to every aspect of not only my life, but that of most human beings.

I chose to lay it out visually, imagining myself as a simple stick figure. From there I imagined numerous balloons stemming from the top of my head and the surface of my geometric shoulders and arms. These balloons each represent a different part of my life, not so much the physical things that I own and admire, but the figurative pieces of my life that energize me and keep me going, keep me upright. Some of the balloons attached to my head would represent the following:

-Soccer (I thought I would list this first since it sparked the idea)

-My family (the newest addition in particular, baby Tallulah is without a doubt a wonderfully bright light in my life)

-Writing

-Travel

-Good food

-The physical act of drawing and creating

-The list continues in greater detail, but I think you get the point.

When I thought more about it, all of the people who I know who appear to be bitter, mean, and unhappy, lack an abundance of these "balloons". Now I may have only been suffering from extreme boredom, therefore thought this was a good idea, or it might be that we should consider a person's balloons, or lack there of, before jumping to conclusions about their behavior.

To answer my, and a handful of other people's question, taking the necessary steps to continue playing soccer is "worth it" still because I am not ready to clip the string of that balloon nor has it frayed, it is still full of air and contributing to holding me upright.

Another Angle

I created a second blog, less of a personal reflection and more so a compilation of words that catch my eye. Please follow and feel free to contribute!

Words Like Water: http://wordslikewater526.blogspot.com/

"words like water: a combination of words that take on water-like qualities in the sense that they nourish, hydrate, and refresh our mind and spirit."

Happy Place

The last few months has felt quite similar to trudging through a field of sinking mud. if there were such a thing. While exciting, is very draining physically and emotionally. A couple of weeks ago I came up with a remedy to this feeling, something

attainable and relevant to my big picture. forts. While this may seem childish, much like the tree house concept, think about how genius it sounds to build yourself a happy place during times of emotional unrest if you are physically unable to go to your usualone. Of course the picture in my head surpassed what I was able to build initially...(I found this on google and LOVE it)...But I ended up with a quaint and aesthetically pleasing product in the end.

The weather was beautiful and since my sliding window opens to a flat and pleasantly accommodating roof, I figured "why not build myself a sanctuary (fort) out here". I imagined a classic teepee on the street-side roof of my inner-city apartment building. I bought beautiful fabric and decided I would figure out the technicalities as I went. Bad idea. There was nothing to stabilize the long sticks i found in the basement and the chairs I tried using for draping blew over with the wind. My best idea stringing together soccer socks creating a makeshift rope I then attached to a flowerpot hook and tied the fabric to at the bottom. This way the fabric hung at ease and all I had to do was weigh it down. I brought out pillows, blankets, and even a small lantern-style light, it was every four year old's dream. Turns out, the it wasn't weatherproof. I took everything down except the string of soccer socks before sundown.

If it wasn't enough to have the shame of a failed fort hanging over my head, the hanging socks created an inconsistent but badgering sound similar to that of a rusty swing-set. For three days I listened to the sounds reminiscent to a horror movie while coming up with a new plan. I have now transplanted the fabric, pillows, blankets, and lantern into the space between my bed and the slanted incline of the ceiling. A space big enough for one person and oodles of thoughts.

Premature Summer Lovin

As I sit in my third floor apartment during the first day of finals underneath the antagonistic skylights which proudly display what I estimate is the 12th day of rain and gloom (I have lost track), I can't help but zone out and mentally plan the summer that I anticipate will be the cherry on top of an incredible year. In five long days I will board a plane to my new "home" in Mineral De Pozos, Mexico where most of my immediate family moved last summer. Not only am I excited to see my brother, sisters, mom, and grandma, but I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of my first niece, due to grace us just around my birthday at the end of May. She will create the fifth generation of living women on my mother's side of the family, and not to be morbid, but you never know how long that will last, which adds even more magic to the coming summer.

Much like New Years, I often make a list of things to do, read, and watch before summer comes. I sometimes finish one or two items on the list; this year I am determined to achieve a much higher percentage, which is why I am releasing it onto the world wide web, to add a little pressure.

• Read, Read, Read: finish Anatomy of the Spirit & Let the Great World Spin. Start and complete Dawn Light, Wanderlust, Twelve by Twelve, Finding Beauty in a Broken World, Life of Pi, The 8 Human Talents, Columbine, and probably a few others I forgot to list.
• Write in my journal and on this blog at least every two days.
• Play with my sister, her new baby and my little siblings who I have grown to miss very much despite their pre-teen behavior.
• Jump rope every day: this one has potential to lose steam very quickly. I am gonna need all hands on deck to keep it going. feel free to badger.
• Walk with my mom: after the jump roping I will trek into the mountains and around the town with my mom, talking and laughing all the while.
• Create a large 3D map/list of the places I want to travel and what I want to do in each place
• Begin writing and creating the book that my sister and I plan to co-write.
• Laugh

That is all for now, I am sure I will revisit this when I don't have a biology exam to study for.

Peace cats.

Letting Go

As I excepted, my travel/life plans have changed drastically in the sense of specifics but have maintained the overall focus of finding happiness in travel and not getting too attached to one physical place or concept. A sudden twist of fate occurred in late August of 2009. I broke my leg pretty badly in one of my collegiate soccer games which put an obvious damper on my plans. There are two reasons for this.

One: I have been playing soccer since before kindergarden and somehow ending a physical and emotional commitment in an unexpected and traumatic instant such as that did not settle well in my mind. I decided to do the necessary surgery and rehab in hopes of coming back and play at least one more full season. Don't worry, I realize this sounds crazy.

Two: Aside from being uncertain as to whether or not I would have been physically able to travel alone to Italy to work, I took the event as a sign that maybe, just maybe, the Au Pair path that I had previously planned might not be right. I am a firm believer that things happen for a reason even if that reason is not visible right away.

Both of these reasons have recently been validated in my mind. Since healing fully I have had three stories published in various literary journals, received the opportunity to intern with the fabulous Gypset (the initial inspiration for this blog), and been accepted to study abroad at an arts university in greece a year from

now. Not to mention I have rekindled my love for playing soccer, I no longer focus on the politics, but have returned to the basics and find myself loving to play as I did when my dad had to double-knot my cleats.The most significant effect th

ough, was the somewhat backwards way that the physical healing process led my father and I to mend our flawed relationship. We returned to a common plane of laughter and enjoying each other's company.

In fewer words the entire concept of remaining unattached to the outcome has been tested. Letting go of the idea of packing my things and moving to Italy has left room for the unfolding of many delightful events.

test run!

http://www.travelandleisure.com/slideshows/worlds-best-treehouse-hotels/8

I found this article last night, titled the "World's Best Treehouse Hotels"! Perfect, I can test run a couple different ones before building my own. I think this concept is really going pick up steam in the coming years.

Using childhood inspiration as a "mature" adult...

I highly doubt that I was the only child who woke up most mornings fantasizing about building an alternate residence; something off of the ground, under the table, or in a box. More often than not, my vision included a fabulously lavish living quarters sitting 15 feet off of the ground in the branches of a sprawling and healthy oak tree. I can remember multiple attempts to solidify this dream using spare pieces of splintery wood found in the garage or the neighbor's yard, nails that were far too long, and an awkwardly heavy hammer. This usually resulted in scraped knees and an explantation to my mother opposed to an adventurous sleeping quarters, spy house, or hide-out.

I have recently discovered that above all else, my ultimate goal in life, the motivation behind every step I take, is to build myself a tree house. The location is yet to be determined, that will require extensive experience in foreign land, knowledge of geographical weather tendencies, and a detailed blueprint illustrating every childhood desire.

My mother recently showed me a source of wonderful inspiration for this project, something we now refer to as "the honeybee house", located in the high desert in central Mexico. I know very little about the man who built it and is now living there, but I fell in love with the style of this home and its simple presence in such a stunning natural environment. This house, and many others will serve as inspiration as I plan my own childhood getaway.

Why don't we take the ideas of children more seriously?