The Final Journey of 2015

In a few short days,

I'll be looking up at a whole new set of stars.

Piecing together constellations in the southern hemisphere,

staring at the sky from a different corner of the world, 

in awe.

A full moon. 

On Christmas. 

I can think of few better ways 

to celebrate the end of the year,

and the beginning of a new one.

I'll be splashing around on the shores of Australia, 

awaiting news from home on the arrival 

of my niece or nephew.

And with that,

It will have been a year

 that feels complete.

There were moments so joyful,

I wanted to call in the trumpeters 

and pound on a snare drum

and dance until the tread on my shoes wore thin! 

And yes, there were times during which 

the noises of day were replaced

with a sterile silence.

Sometimes, that's just the way a day goes. 

And you know. That's okay. 

I learned that in order to welcome in the new:

new love, new friends, 

new growth, new appreciations;

you have to make space by 

emptying out the stuff that doesn't 

fill you up anymore.

After all, what good is a heart that has

 reached maximum capacity, 

if the existing thoughts and feelings 

inhabiting it are stale?

There's just no time for that.

Make the space for a full heart. 

xo

A Wish, For You.

Tonight at sundown, marked the holiest of holidays in Judaism.

It is a day about saying you are sorry. 

And asking for forgiveness. 

Sorry in itself is such a small word, 

but it has such a big impact. 

Just think about all of the little hurts we carry around;

the weight of them on our hearts when piled up.

Many of these could likely have been eliminated 

if a simple "I'm sorry" had been extended.

I was raised in a loving, liberal home, 

in which my parents shared traditions

from both their religious backgrounds.

Beliefs and rituals weren't pressed on us.

We weren't a church or synagogue family. 

In truth, I identify more closely 

with my exposure to Unitarianism,

but there is something about this day in particular 

that I find really meaningful. 

You don't have to be religious at all

to reflect upon your actions of the past

and to be mindful 

to make everything right in your world -

if only for the day. 

And that goes both ways. 

Today is about looking inward more so than out.

This is a powerful exercise - 

and one that I find very rewarding. 

And so...

As my dad wished to me, 

I wish for all of you:

Happiness, health and love. 

xo

A birthday note, to self

This next year, remember...

There will be days dripping in gold,

and others that are just okay,

and some that are pretty terrible.

Try not to be too scared when the ‘terribles’ come along.

Maintain a positive spirit and a kind heart.

Quiet the ill-intended.

Work through the insecurities.

Don’t let anyone mistake being kind, as being weak.

Take care of your body.

Find something that compels you, 

and dedicate time to learning more about it. 

Don’t be so grumpy about the crumbs around the apartment.

The causer of the crumbs makes you really, really happy.

Be someone who, when mentioned in conversation,

is described as good.

Call home. Call sisters. Send letters.

Let friends know you're thinking of them.

Be a #1 aunt.

Keep travelling. Keep adventuring.

Maybe figure out how to get a dog.

Do the best you can this year.

And have the very best time doing it.

Memories in the Attic

I was home in Connecticut about a month ago

spending time with my family,

paying the neighborhood donkeys a visit,

giving Little Cat scratches behind her ear. 

During my trip

I got baited into sorting through 

old bins and dusty boxes from our attic. 

I guess our sweet old house 

needs a sturdy new roof

and with that, 

the odds and ends 

and treasures that have accumulated 

over the years and grown comfortable and settled 

among old winter coats and broken lacrosse sticks -

Well. Their worth was being reevaluated. 

Cue almond-sized Emily tears
of panicky separation anxiety.
I sat for nearly 4 hours
and read through old love letters,
remembering the innocence of middle school crushes
and the romance that unfolded
on loose leaf paper.
I flipped through yearbooks and scrapbooks,
pausing on a page occasionally.
I wonder what happened to him?
Did she ever become a vet?
Daring myself to remember the exact layout
of my camp cabin,
the familiar smell of my elementary school,
the first kisses and heartbreaks,
high school victories and schoolyard gossip.
I thumbed through old exams
and high school essays.
Mix-tapes and photo collages,
friendship bracelets and old movie ticket stubs.

And cards.
So many cards.
Dozens and dozens and dozens of cards.
Which is funny because, I write and send a lot of cards.
 I never really linked the boxes
filled with cards in my parents attic
to my present day pleasure
of writing someone a card.
I scanned old letters marked AIRMAIL
sent from my childhood friend in England.
I chuckled.
The updates we deemed worthy
of a cross-continental journey.
An inquiry about my doll,
sent over oceans and mountain ranges.
Funny; sweet.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
I wished every question
were as simple as such.
Birthday wishes from my grandparents -
long before I reached double digits.
Words of encouragement from my dad:
I'm so proud of the woman you are becoming.
'Just Because' notes, from my mom,
with water colored scenes of desert cacti,
and smiling kittens.
When did I grow from child to adult?
From handwritten cards
with googly eyed dinosaurs and juggling bears,
to emails, littered with entitlement
and laced with stubborn pride?
Did it happen overnight, under a full moon?
Or was it more gradual,
as the leaves changed and days shortened.
I considered it briefly,
shrugged my shoulders and began to
decide what stays and what goes.
What memories to keep,
and which to part with.
It was cathartic;
the flood of the past,
and then their quick release.
But I kept all the cards.
Every single one.
xo

Word Drops

Last night we watched the sweetest short film.

It was centered around the theme of people 

entering and exiting our lives,

and how the abrupt shifts in those relationships

ultimately can become a catalyst for a bigger change.

It showcased the difficulty associated 

with someone you love leaving you;

be it platonic love, parental love, romantic love.

And it made me think.

And it made me feel.

And it made me cry.

Dean asked if it was a sad cry or a happy one, and I couldn't really tell.

I think it was a mixture of both.

I had been wanting to share an update on the blog for a while now –

but  each time I sat down to write

the words tasted stale and tinny in my mouth, 

like chewing on aluminum.

I'm not sure why.

And then last night we watched this little movie

and it made all the words floating around in my head

drip out of me in the form of salty tears.

It felt pretty good – to release those tears,

 the happy and the sad mixing together.

It was like I could see the words that were stuck in my head,

roll down my cheeks in liquid word drops: 

‘disappointed.’ ‘nostalgic.’ ‘comforted.’ ‘unsure.’ ‘loved.’

Sometimes you just need a little cry I guess.

Followed by a kiss on the forehead and the switch of a lamp.

Here’s to a gentle and happy Tuesday, friends.

xo

For Simple Things...

My eyes are clear. My heart is full.

I have sunshine on my shoulders,

and a hand that holds mine.

For these simple things, I am grateful.

Happy Thanksgiving friends.

 

“For each new morning with its light, for rest and shelter of the night, for health and food, for love and friends, for everything thy goodness sends. I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for my friends, the old and new.” 

–      Ralph Waldo Emerson

Autumn's Pause

I've wanted to share an update for a long time now.

But see,  there were dance floors to shimmy on, 

and giant sequoias to gape at.

There were trails on which to get my shoes dusty

 And too many big moon nights, requiring the attention of my eyes.

There were hawks – darting in and out of the shadows of the trees that begged me to spot them.

There were meals to share, introductions to be made; glasses to clink.

There were old friends, who had to meet new.

There was Manzanita-scented air, inhaled deeply into my lungs.

And shooting stars, tallied from the bottom of Yosemite valley, my parents by my side.

And sure, there were moments where there was nothing at all.

But that’s what I needed.

Just a quiet corner, and the pleasure of visiting with people that didn't require an explanation.

There were scenarios where words were fumbled, and hearts ached.

Where I felt anger rise from my feet and heat up my cheeks.

And then of course, there were instances of the purest joy,

with honey-coated whispered words, so sweet and true.

There were simple moments, really.

But they were mine.

Happy Autumn, until we speak again, friends. 

To August, With Love

I always write of August. 

Likely because it is my birthday month, 

it is August during which I am most nostalgic and reflective. 

I think of stretches of summer days
spent in Maine with my family, 

and long lazy weekends at the beach with girlfriends. 

I have great memories of swapping stories
and sipping beers with friends, 

late into the humidity of the night back east.

Of sun burnt skin, salt water kayaking and backyard lounging.

A friend recently told me, I often update Big Moon Sky in moments of worry, or apprehension.

And to some extent, this is true.

It is easier for me to process moments of worry through writing, 

and so the blog becomes an outlet for those instances.

But it's all shooting stars and sunshine in this post folks! 

image is my own

This summer has been a real slam dunk. 

A string of weekends up in Tahoe -
barbecuing at the base of the river, 

night skies so bright with stars,
 I have to pinch myself to believe its real. 

Dancing in Golden Gate Park with my little sister, 

with flowers in our hair.and smiles on our faces.

Days with my toes dangling from the edge of a boat, 

cheering on friends and clinking glasses towards the sun.

Sunday cocktails and home cooked meals, enjoyed in the backyard of friends.

Nights filled with music and spontaneity - a new feature in my world. 

And goats. So many goats. 

I am quite content these days. 

A steady sunbeam of happy. 

A constant stream of giggles.

And its the best. 

xo

Lessons From the Night Sky

My dad was visiting this past week; it was so fun having him here.
His trip was impromptu, and I didn't plan much, but we ended up doing  the coolest thing.
Every Saturday of a New Moon, Mt. Tamalpais hosts star gazers to check out the night sky through the astronomy club's telescopes.
This past Saturday was a clear, cool night
and eventually twilight started to give way,
and the stars began to pop.
We climbed a ladder to a giant telescope and saw a star mass-
a big cluster of millions of stars swirling around the sky.
We were shown a star that had burnt up and died -
leaving a hole in it's middle, clouded in a light blue hue. Sad.
We saw Scorpion's tail -
a constellation only visible in the summer months.
We peered through two different telescopes
to catch a glimpse of Saturn.
It looked like a little video game icon, but you could clearly see it's rings. Awesome.

We traced the outline of the Big Dipper and paused to stare at The North Star.

 Did you know, The North Star holds steady as the entire northern sky rotates around it?
I think that's so romantic. And amazing. That mighty North Star.

Waiting for the stars on top of Mt. Tam
Every few minutes, the astronomers would step in and readjust the lens and positioning of the telescopes.
So much movement, both in the sky and on earth, the stars and planets easily jump out of view.

My dad and I were speaking with one of the astronomers as the telescope was realigned,
and he said something that really struck me.
He remarked that we know so much about the ground we walk on,
and yet, the sky remains a mystery to so many people.
Rarely, do we ever look up.
And we should!
 Because it's the same sky up there, night after night.
If you ever feel a little lonely, take comfort in the fact that there is familiarity up above.

The same old smattering of stars, to help guide you on your way.
I thought a lot about this the remainder of the weekend.
There are so many things I am excited about in my life right now...
but simultaneously, these things bring confusion.
And there are variables that cloud my view.
It's hard to navigate, and I wish I had the patience of an astronomer.
But sometimes, just  like with the telescope, you have to let things settle a bit
before you can see what your looking for with a clear eye.
Happy star watching, friends.
xo

With Arms Outstretched

Spriiiiiiiiing! 

The word itself sounds happy. And bouncy. And light.

Last night, I dreamt that piles of flowers

came pouring from the sky.

Big cheerful petals and blossoms. 

They fell gentle, on my chest. 

With arms outstretched, and up towards the sun:

This is how I welcome April.

(image is my own) 

Winter. 

You taught me lessons I never wanted to learn. 

Although, I am grateful that I did. 

You showed me the value of people. 

Who listened.

Without consequence or judgement. 

Without impatience or skepticism. 

They let words and worries tumble out of me, 

many of which had sour notes.

And they didn't rush to make things sweeter. 

Instead, they let me empty every last thought.

And slowly, 

this anchor I'd been dragging started to rust away. 

It makes me happy. And bouncy. And light. 

Happy Spring. 

xo

Moon Gazing

I used to think homesick was a feeling 

reserved for rainy days at summer camp, 

or long lonely weekends in a zip code still new to me.

But here I am, happier than a clam and feeling quite content

and that old distant feeling has snuck right up on me, 

like a mosquito to my neck. 

I suppose you can feel homesick when things go right too.

I'll be walking along, minding my thoughts 

and I'll see something completely ordinary to others,

but to me its anything but. 

A speckled feather on a path, a magnolia in bloom, 

a smoothed over river stone. 

I'll cross the street 

and my eye will catch a cat sunning itself in a window, 

or a ginkgo leaf laying in the shadows on the sidewalk.

image is my own

An op-ed in the paper, a funny spoof on tv, a sketch on a postcard or a chuckle at work.

And every so often, on a rare clear night,

 I'll look up to a full, plump moon.

Lately all of these simple

 daily discoveries make me miss my family. 

I feel settled and happy and excited and inspired,

and suddenly it seems a little strange to feel these things 

without my family close by to share it all with me.

This feeling will pass. 

But until then, 

I'll keep staring up, 

at that big old moon,

in that big old sky,

and think of you. 

xo

Hindsight

The past few weeks were tremendously challenging for me.
I felt like my brain had been hijacked.
I couldn't manage my thoughts, or articulate my feelings.
I couldn't possibly know, or convince myself, that things would be okay.
I couldn't find the right words to express my emotions,
and for someone who gains solace from writing,
this was probably the most frustrating challenge of all.
I'd smile and shrug and try my best to assure my friends and family
that I believed them when they'd tell me
that everything was going to work out.
I tried to convince them I accepted the notion
that when one door closes another will open.
At the time, I didn't.
But the power of hindsight is pretty incredible,
and now I can breath the deep sigh of relief
I was wishing for every night before bed.
With challenges, often come lessons.
And the exercise of looking backward
reveals the learnings of those lessons.

image is my own
On a surface level, the challenges of the past three weeks
alerted me to the changes I need to make
related to how I manage my budget,
and rebuild a nest egg, and all of that grown-up,
logistical mumbo jumbo.

But really, the more impactful revelation from weeks past is the following:
That all my gentle heart requires
is to be surrounded by people who are kind, 

who are sincere,
and who are well-intended.
That's all I ask.
And I'll do my best to make good on
weeding out the weasels from the winners; I promise.
I choose to see the good in everyone.
I believe in the benefit of the doubt- likely to a fault-
and I would never compromise that trait within me.
I'm proud of that.
But now more than ever,
I appreciate the notion that good things happen when you surround yourself with good people.
I now subscribe to this philosophy professionally,
 but this lesson also applies to my personal life.
Here's to a fresh start in February,
new adventures ahead,
and the power of hindsight.
xo

A Team to Believe in

In an act of spontaneity, 

I hitched a my heart to a plane 
and flew back east for Super Bowl weekend.

I had been vowing to do so, 

should our beloved Giants reach the culminating game of the football season.

Well, they did, and I made good on my promise to watch 

the game with family and friends on New York turf.

For me, a Giants win represents so much more than another notch on the scoreboard, 

or another statistic set in sports history.

I don’t necessarily understand every play made, 
but I don’t think you have to be a sports buff, to be a sports fan.   
People invest in their teams because they like believing in something. 
There is comfort in the camaraderie. 
I think that’s why so many people, 
unapologetically, love football most especially.

I will always, unabashedly cheer on Big Blue because of my dad.

Ever since my sisters and I were little girls, 
we knew what it meant to be a Giants fan, 
and that loyalty has been tested more so in the past four or five years. 

 image is my own

It’s loyalty to the team, but also, loyalty to our dad.

We know to expect agony on my dad’s face the morning after a loss. 

We can guarantee a mid-season heartbreak. 

We know to be patient, 
that Eli and his team will keep us crossing our fingers 

and shouting at the television well into the final minutes of the fourth quarter.

We know the child-like joy 
that creeps across his face when they win.

My dad is meticulous and measured on game days;  
lining up his souvenirs, arranging his footballs just so. 
There is a certain tone on game days.

And this superstitious spectatorship 
has crept into the conscious of my sisters and me too.

If ever there was a metaphor for my dad, his team, in my mind,  represents him to a tee.

A little shy. Stoic. 
A force that, made mistakes along the way, 
but righted wrongs and maintained composure. 
A team, that evokes hopeless devotion from the people that believe. 
My sisters and I cheer for the Giants because we’re daughters after our dad’s heart. 
We’ll emulate the game day rituals when we have daughters
 -or sons- of our own.
Deep in her heart, my older sister confessed, 
she knew they'd clinch the win. 
They had to- for dad, we unanimously agreed.

And they did.

Winners win.

xo

Thoughts on Flowers...

My older sister freelances in a field

that bestows, what I imagine is, a very special

and intimate sense of satisfaction and fulfillment.

She works with flowers and  in turn,

is indirectly involved in the sweetest of sentiments

on wedding days, birthdays, and promotions.

Almost always we associate flowers with the happiest of go lucky occasions.

But, I forget that, with sympathy, comes flowers too.

And my heart beats a little bluer for her because,

it must weigh heavily on her thorn scratched fingers,

to make arrangements for the greyest of days.

Thinking of you...

xo

Happy Father's Day

"Live the life you want.

Live it at the highest level you choose."

Wise words, penned to me from my dad.

I'm shooting for the stars dad, everyday.

Happy Father's Day.
xo