Thursday, August 30, 2012

Thursday Night and Thoughts of Frank.


"Modigliani. Your first summer in New York City, you were dating a guy who worked on Wall Street ...this was around the time you discovered Modigliani and became obsessed with his painting of this woman who had a blue scarf on, holding a baby. You said, 'That painting captured the essence of that woman better than any photograph.' I also remember you freaked because you said you felt more passionate about that painting than you did about Mr.Wall Street and you wondered if you ever could meet somebody that could make you feel as passionate as that work of art." -Made of Honor

I remember being about thirteen years old and dancing in my bedroom to a mix CD full of Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Bobby Darin, and Sammy Davis, Jr. I loved how magical all the songs felt. They breathed lives lived. They carried adventure, emotion, and promise. Letting each note flow over me, I could envision how one day I'd dance a life fit to be accompanied by such melodies.

As we get older, it's easier to hear sounds of reality play over the notes which first inspired us. We discover unpaid loans, relationships with varying and sometimes challenging traits, bill payment due dates, food that actually has the potential to turn into fat, that traveling includes costs along with adventure, doctors sometime deliver bad news, and restless minds make for restless nights. 

In the mist of it all, we have the ability to hear a song and travel back to a familiar melody and nostaligic memory. It can remind us how passionate and ambitious we are at heart. It should encourage us to grab onto that feeling, aspiring to acheive at least that much. Find something in life; a book, film, piece of artwork, or song. Let it push you to crave better things in your life and be sure to turn up the volume.  

Friday, August 24, 2012

Forgiveness - It's More Than Saying Sorry


While visiting my Grandma, she was flipping through a notepad she used to scribble down quotes, random thoughts, lists, reminders, and theories.

She read one of the quotes she recorded, “Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.”

I believe as human beings, it's often easy to view withholding forgiveness as proof to the other person that they don't deserve to be forgiven. Somehow what they did was so hurtful, wrong, and disheartening, they are simply not worthy of being forgiven.

Instead, we hold resentment. We foster anger and let sadness cascade over any prevailing pleasant thoughts. We hold resentment because it's easier than facing any harsh truth of reality where we could have been hurt by someone we love or even by someone we just brush elbows with at the water cooler.

Though, as Grandma's notepad explains, this resentment only kills us.

The act by which you hold bitterness toward someone creates a chord to you and extends to that person, hurtful action, or condescending phrase spoken. As we move forward in life, we do so dragging these chords along with us. They wrap around us, cradling negative energy and heavy weight to an unresolved past.

Work toward cutting the chords. Seek forgiveness. It's not easy and it will take time but there truly is no single act unforgivable. There are just many challenging moments forcing us to grow and be pruned into our highest self for our happiest life. 

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Costa Rica - Journal Entry #5

April 28, 2012

The taxi is schedule to pick us up in 15 minutes. I'm sitting near the yoga deck taking in the view and feeling of being apart of this experience had in Costa Rica; knowing this is me breathing it in for the last time.

There is a certain feeling of calmness and serenity that's reflected in the surrounding ocean and mountains. A light Costa Rican breeze blows and I know this trip was a gift for me that will only unwrap more over time.

This trip is an imprint, displaying how if I look to it, I will experience great things. I will travel, love, learn, and this is merely just the beginning.

So long Costa Rica and thanks for the view.