Tag Archives: happiness

I am enough

Sunday.

This week, I am going to choose to be happy. I am committing, now, to making a choice or a decision or doing something special and particular once a day for the next five days that *I* want to do and that will make *me* happy. This is a practice in self care, in self love, in trusting myself, being okay with myself, and being proud of myself. This is a practice in being the best me. This is accountability to myself. This is learning and growing. This is being strong. This is me living life. This is me learning to cherish myself. This is me teaching myself that I am enough. 

Each day, I’ll update this post with what I did to choose to be happy that day:

Monday. It made me happy to me kind to the other people in my life, and I challenged myself and put myself out there by going to a write-in for National Novel Writing Month and meeting new people. The healthy beet salad I had for dinner also made my happy – it was delicious!

Tuesday. What a day. Election Day. I got to vote for our country’s first female presidential nominee. It was a powerful and beautiful feeling that filled me with joy. I also did a short run and it felt good to be active in the sunshine and in short sleeves in November.

Wednesday. It was hard to be happy this day and I cried many times. I got very angry, and not only at the election. But seeing how much my friends and the people in my life were there for me and for each other, seeing how the women – and some of the men too – that I know where banding together, standing up strong for what they believe, and offering to help others – that gave me hope and made me find happiness in all the sadness.

Thursday. Good conversation with new close friends, the kind of conversation where the hours just melt away and it feels like no time at all. 

Friday. Doing new things, and doing things you always wanted to do. Being there for your friends and being a good friend. Walking, strolling, and saying hello to people. 

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My own lion

I don’t wear jewelry.
Perhaps it’s because
it feels unnecessary
or like I’m flaunting something
that’s not my own good heart.
Perhaps I don’t like standing out.
Perhaps I’m scared.

Today I bought myself
a $78 dollar necklace.
It’s quite beautiful
and I do love the way it looks on me.
It makes me look thin
and fabulous,
two things I am not.

The necklace was meant
to be a reminder
to myself to be at peace,
to stand up,
to be first
to be selfish
to love.
It will be okay. I will be okay?

Today I typed into my
computer as it glowed in
the midnight air
“how to practice self love,”
like it’s a magic trick
I could teach myself overnight,
like some clown in some circus
that frightens little kids.
that runs from lions.
It doesn’t work that way.

I need to stop running from lions.
I need to be my own fucking lion.

“Rise, like lions after slumber…”

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Santa Cruz

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I think of biking around Santa Cruz and I think of you.
Wasted clouds on wasted days.
Do you say good morning to the Universe?
Do you let it kiss you as it pulls you out of bed?
Cherish those moments: the sunshine,
the cool breeze, the laughing gulls.
Cherish the freedom, the summertime, patience.

I hear wind chimes singing in the middle of the city
where they don’t belong
among the hustle and the honking
and I want to tell you about
how they bring me joy.
I want to never forget the way you kiss me.

I know everything in this life,
in this world,
in this small, full, slow, too quick existence
is temporary.
Every night the moon grows or fades,
and the sun will rise again.
But everything else,
it is here for us and me to appreciate now,
and not beyond it’s own significance in time.

I hate that I am such a damn pessimist.
Why can’t I just accept what is, and appreciate it, and not worry.

I will never be ready for the sun to set before the day wants to end.

I’m ready for the continuous awakening,
the continuous light,
the stillness, the peace,
the never ending comfort that keeps my heart beating.

Come with me to the ocean,
stand next to me
with your hand in mine
and your toes touching the sea
looking out at this great big world
that we would give anything to save.

Let the sea remind me to be hopeful,
that I alone am responsible for my happiness,
but that I can let you in too.
Let the sea remind me that it is okay to feel happy,
and it is also okay to be angsty and unsettled and restless.
That it is okay to feel and I should never apologize for that.
Let the Santa Cruz sea remind me that I must
appreciate the golden while I have it,
and strive to stay gold,
glowing like the sun hits the top of each breaking wave,
glowing like the too hot sand that burns the bottoms of your feet.

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It is okay

It’s okay to feel
It’s okay to feel feelings that are happiness
that are contentment
that are joy
it’s okay to be happy.
It’s okay to feel feelings other than your anxiety.
It’s okay to love
and let yourself be loved
and open up
and let down your walls.
It’s okay to get hurt,
to be the hurt,
if you hurt you will heal.
You always heal.
It’s okay to be,
its okay to just be.
And be all that you are.

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Birth in Existential Anxiety

Maybe I was born with existentialism in my blood stream
maybe I was born to die,
we were all born to die.
I have existential crises as I grocery
shop. I have existential crises with Harris Teeter grocery bags
in my hands
walking home with bread and milk.
I have existential crises as I walk by sleeping bums on wet
park benches as I stare out across
a bleak city
with bleak desires and more concern
for politics and war than meaning and life,
is this all there is. Is there meaning
in everything you do. Is this all
there will ever be
are you happy with your choices
your eyelashes
your patterns of sleep.
Quiet the world is.
Are the sounds of the city
the speeding rubber the blinking lights
is it skeletons shaking their brittle bones
are these dinosaur cranes meant to be our gateway
to heaven
are these sandy underground parties meant to be our hallway
to hell.
So uneasy.
So unsettled.
Was I born to become anything.
Does my cat have more meaning then me.
Does talking to my cat make me crazy,
Cassady where is the meaning in your life,
are you happy, am I crazy (yes) (aren’t we all),
should I ramble on to a therapist because I have no friends,
anxiety makes your internal emotions
the ones that reside in your organs
implode.
Should I move to the sea.
What if I was the sea
would I still ebb and flow, would I have meaning.
Was I born to become anything.

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This is everything

I believe in God
in the holy layers of the Universe
I believe in Jack Kerouac and the Beats
the Fate that exists to get me where I am meant to exist
I believe in sweet people who are there
who tell me I am Weird.

I believe in my Father
I believe in my Mother who gave
birth to me
I believe in making mistakes
in solitude
gentle Wilderness
in going down so deep
but always crawling out.

I believe in the Good and the Bad
in making mistakes
seeking happiness
and the importance of Self.

I believe in rebirth
failure
laughter
pain
I believe in pushing yourself
I believe in Passion
in hunger
in heartbreak
in panic attacks
in dark places
and in finding the Light.

I believe in holy nights
and the even more holy sunrise:

this is Life
this is all there is
all there will ever be
this is everything.

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Get on.

photo 2

For as long as the leaves have been scattered on the ground
I’ve felt alone,
but I’m never alone.
For as long as the days have been too short,
the sun’s been going to bed too early,
I’ve been disheartened,
but I know my heart isn’t empty.

We’ve got the days,
we’ve got the moments,
the glimmers of pure joy,
the sparkling blinding bright sun low in the sky between the grace trees.
We are grateful beings.
We are just trying to get by,
like everyone else.

What if we were like the falling leaves,
what if every season when the chill comes into the air,
when late summer has kissed you goodbye softly on the cheek,
we turned colors, we aged, we turned gray, we wrinkled, and we fell to the ground.
What would our lives be like then, short and more definite.
How differently would we live, knowing the end of our days
was falling upon us soon.

We’ve got to move on
we’ve got to get on
we’ve got to live.

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How to Live Better

HOW TO LIVE BETTER.

Or rather 
what I should do to enjoy life more,
to be happier,
to become the better person that I want to be:

1. SLEEP MORE. (And enjoy it)

2. RUN AND BIKE MORE. (Feel alive. Be healthy. Drink more water.)

3. BE MORE INTENTIONAL. ENJOY THE SIMPLE THINGS. APPRECIATE EVERYTHING.

4. SMILE MORE. LAUGH MORE. BE ALIVE.

5. LEARN THINGS. GROW AS A PERSON. CONTRIBUTE TO SOCIETY. 

6. DO THE THINGS YOU LOVE: read books, write poetry, try new recipes, cook for friends, go on long walks, explore, be with friends, drink coffee, make new friends, be creative, plan adventures, listen to old music, keep your house clean. 

7. BE BRAVE.

8. APPRECIATE THE PEOPLE IN YOUR LIFE. SHOW THEM AND TELL THEM SO. Be a good friend when they need you and when they don’t.

9. ADMIT YOU HAVE FLAWS, AND BE OKAY WITH THEM.

10. BE RESPONSIBLE. Learn from your choices. 

We’ll see how this checklist shakes out. When it comes down to it, I’ve been stuck in a weird restless wanting to do something big, wanting to become a much better person, bored with the day to day drag, needing mountains and nature and fresh air and crime free streets, needing to feel safe and free, and I’m sick of it all. I know I don’t actually need to go somewhere else to become better, to be happy, and I do so much love this city and my people here, and part of me wants to leave and part of me wants to stay forever. I know I just want to and need to work on me.

Bottom line: I need to always do what is most important RIGHT NOW. “Be here now.” Trust myself and enjoy my life.

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Switch blade suckers

Shotgunning silver bullet beers into
a trash can
hovering over that waste
at the corner of 14th and U
close to midnight on a Saturday night.
It’s freezing cold
gusty, blustery January.

Is that what freedom feels like?
Is that what it’s like to be an American?
Growing up? Staying young?

Dolling out scowls like bubble gum
because you’ve got better things to do.
Carrying a switch blade pocket knife
in your right hand
thumb on the trigger
ready
just in case. Glancing back
over your shoulder every few minutes.

Don’t catch yourself too happy.
Don’t ditch your dreams
for desolation angels.
Happiness is for suckers.
For people who shotgun beers on the sidewalk in the freezing cold.

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