Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Make Your Own Peace: a how to guide


sylviethecamera.smugmug.com

Be still.  Be present in the moment.  Be at peace with yourself. 

Nowadays these types of mantras are a dime a dozen—every yoga studio is spouting some version of them, and they’re plastered across cheerfully colored shirts at Lululemon, and every magazine has to feature something along these lines before an issue can be approved for printing.  I’ll admit, I’m a former mantra junkie.  The flow of my week was determined by how many times I could knot my way into lotus position and will myself to be more grounded, to lift my heart center to the sun, to find an inner calm that, for reasons unbeknownst to my consciousness, resembled the chilly padded mats in the wrestling room from my first brush with yoga a cold oasis of glittering snow and snow-breath.  And, more inexplicably, the Northern lights were always dancing in some far-off background.

But when I decided to save money and not renew my membership at some point that stopped being enough.  And then I really was stranded.  How could I find my happy mental image of a Norwejian fjord without calm, soothing voices intoning that I am responsible for my own happiness?  It’s just not the same when I try to tell myself that—it’s not at all convincing when my inner voice is drawing up to-do lists for the next day.  In my heart of hearts, I knew that I needed some guidance.  But then I stumbled upon Martha Beck’s article about happiness.  While she tackles the question of finding a lasting happiness, I hit my “a-ha!” moment when she broaches the broadness of that oft-repeated advice:  be still.  Instead, she suggests that we be creative, whether that means learning how to race cars (Emma) or figuring out how to frost a cake Martha Stewart would be proud of (Lilo) or taking a class on how to sew (well, it’s on one of my fun to-do lists because I don’t know what to do about these coat buttons of mine that have all snapped off).  Any type of creative work toggles our brains to release that beloved happiness-inducing hormone, dopamine (yay, scientific proof!), until our brains click into mindfulness and we are actually biologically forced to be present in the moment.  How’s that for being at peace with yourself?

Friday, January 27, 2012

Perfect Flaw




As a school psychologist, part of my job responsibility is to evaluate and assess children’s strengths and weaknesses in order to optimize their learning. One of the most challenging parts of this job for me is making my work meaningful in a way that promotes success and actually helps children/families on an authentic level. Like any career, the perspective and daily choices you make provide the professional you become. (“A cook does not make a chef”) A continuous goal of mine in my career (and in life in general) is to address/identify each problem in a way that is meaningful, but more importantly hopeful and inspiring.

This morning as I drove to work I got to thinking about flaws. I work in an environment where it is very easy to focus on flaws and mistakes. In the past two months I have written report after report identifying problems. Sometimes it feels like a big responsibility to be the “professional” telling a parent/teacher/child what things they need to work on. While I do think it is important to constantly work on ourselves and to strive for growth, I also think there is already enough internal negative dialogue where we beat ourselves up for our flaws that it is not necessary for another person to reinforce those same thoughts. As a rule, each time I work with a child I strive to find strengths, and as I write reports I try my best to speak in a way that embraces growth, not disability. I realize that the way we think and form our words have a residual impact on others. This is something I constantly have to remind myself before I work with a child or do a write-up because my main objective is to help and encourage others to make the best of what they have.

It’s a humbling experience working in a school because it gives you perspective that goes beyond age. Working with teachers and talking to parents makes me think about my own childhood and also what things were said about me when I was younger. As adults sometimes we think we know best, but working with children constantly reminds me that we don’t. The saddest thing is when an “adult” tells another adult or worse a child that if they continue to go in the direction they are going in, they are headed for failure. That they need to work on their weaknesses in order to become more successful. In other words, creating negative feelings of anxiety, discouragement and helplessness. Wouldn't it be great if instead we were taught to embrace our flaws and mistakes? Haven’t there been countless discoveries made that way? Maybe if each one of us focused on better nurturing and understanding our flaws, we would have better success at moving humankind forward by utilizing the talents and abilities that we each naturally possess, rather than let those abilities lie dormant and unexpressed. What a waste!


Some thoughts I have been having about flaws and mistakes:

1)What you consider a flaw in yourself another person looks at and envies. (Examples: you hate your curly hair but a friend wishes their pin-straight hair would hold curls; you wish were that you were more outspoken, yet another person wishes they could be as composed as you; you are described as being impulsive or stubborn, others wish they were as strong willed). We might as well embrace our flaws because one day it might go away and we will wish it back. Look at Madonna, instead of changing herself, she has embraced the infamous space between her teeth and it has become a trademark.

2)“Certain flaws are necessary for the whole, it would seem strange if old friends lacked certain quirks”-Goethe. How true is that? Some of my favorite things about my family/friends are their idiosyncrasies. For example: one friend always makes up her own words to express how she feels. She says “Baklava” and “stinkaroonies” when she makes a mistake. This is the number one thing I love most about her and I can’t imagine if this was something she let go of.

3)Flaws remind you that you can’t have it all. This is a great reminder that a) we should be humble and aim for growth and b) the world wouldn’t go around if we each had it all.

4)Mistakes make the best memories. I am so thankful for my flaw of mixing up my words. One time in college I tried to say “Lady in red” and after many failed attempts (Lazy in lead, rady in zed, lady in bed, etc) my friends were in hysterics. It was unintentional but to this day that is a day that is engrained in my memory and I look back on it fondly.

5)Sometimes flaws or mistakes make the best discoveries. (visit: http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/galleries/2010/08/31/famous-accidental-discoveries.html)


(Original Video with Audio here: http://www.runnerspace.com/video.php?video_id=64548)
Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

More of the same- but different


How's your day going?
Same shit, different day.

I first heard that as a response from a co-worker about four years ago. I worked below him, looked up to him, and thought he was smart as a whip. His nonchalance disappointed me since it forecasted the sentiment I had to look forward to if I were promoted. We were both in our mid-twenties at the time- can you believe that? What a negative outlook on life!

I tried not to let his outlook affect me and kept on trudging along with optimism. Although we can't change our circumstances, we can control our reactions, and by choosing to be positive, things actually get brighter.

This concept of perspective really struck me in photography class. For class, I wanted to do a project which allowed me to take photos of the city without being cliche. The theme that I selected was reflections, and while I initially looked for mirrors and glass, eventually I saw reflections in unexpected places- puddles, oil slicks, granite floors.. everywhere. It was an eye opening experience.

In this week's NY Times lens blog, there's an article on an artist who took a picture of the same hill over five years. It's absolutely amazing how many wonderful pictures he took of this seemingly boring hill in Lincoln Park, Chicago.
 http://lens.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/01/23/more-of-the-same-but-different/


From Paul Octavious' project "Same Hill, Different Day" http://pauloctavious.com/hill/

The article also references another great project, documenting the many faces of another photographer's baby girl- Kanna.

My favorite, called "Love Scene"
http://www.flickr.com/photos/toyokazu/4795429882/in/set-72157624017824772c

I think it's time to take more pictures... try to make the mundane a little more interesting.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Slow down to the pace of the soul

As little kids, we learn things in accordance with fairly predictable milestones. You learn to walk before you're 1, learn the alphabet when you're 3 (if you get put into nursery school/ day care while your parents work), and learn basic hygiene habits by kindergarten (my memorable experience involves painting brown paper bag pumpkins with orange tempera paint, and having to go so badly that I peed in my undies, dress, tights, and got orange fingerprints all over everything as I fumbled in the bathroom). And in four to five year increments, you hit another milestone. Elementary, junior high school, high school, college-- and with each step, you have another chance to (1) to be a better student, (2) re-invent yourself aka good girl turned bad or vice versa, (3) meet new people, and no matter how you think you have yourself figured out, you transform and mature. I always wondered what happened after college once the 4-5 year reset button was gone? Would we mindlessly work as drones for thirty years if we didn't study a profession that we loved? Would we still hang out with the same friends from college? Would we get bored with them? Do people just stop reinventing themselves at a certain point? Would people be less likely to carelessly slip into and out of relationships now that there was no longer another college party to attend or another pool to become a bigger fish in? What would we learn after the ripe age of 21 that we didn't already know? I mean most of the major firsts have already happened by this point, haven't they?

The answers to all those questions are varied, and our insignificant lives are part of this complex microcosm now, so when we discover those answers is unpredictable. I am formulaic though (being an accountant does that to you) and I prefer milestones to be predictable. Consciously or unsconsciously, most of my turning points and the answers to most of those question have uncovered themselves in my sixth year outside of school.

(1) One year ago today, I was tearing my hair out, working from 6pm to 3am to fix the work of a reckless senior auditor, who didn't know how to conjugate verbs, let alone audit revenue recognition. From 9AM- 6PM, I would work on the project I was actually assigned to. I walked into work at 9AM after a week of doing this and I started bawling in front of everyone, including those who worked below me, and an innocent intern, when the partner asked me how things were going. Despite his understanding- he told me to go take the day off, disconnect from email, and sit in Starbucks in silence for a few hours, but eventually I still needed to do what I needed to get done. 2011 would be the year of the giant snowball effect at work, where timelines never shifted, and one terrible project merged with mediocre projects, and I became a drone. I was tired. I lacked enthusiasm, and despite my meager attempts to make things work, or briefly escape by applying for an international project, or for a rotation to a national office position, there were no solid outs. When my biggest advocator second guessed what made me think I could get the positions I applied for, I lost confidence. The last year of my old job was so difficult, and while I still think what I was learning was valuable in terms of being technically competent, and cohesive in communicating and selling to high level execs, the fast paced sink or swim mentality broke me. Six years into my first job, I hit the reset button.

In terms of whether I would mindlessly work as a drone for the rest of my life, the answer is No.

(2) I had no idea at the time, but looking back, the frustration at work seeped into my personal life. When you are working 12-15 hour days, trying to get people to do what you want them to do, arguing with clients on doing the right thing, and having stressful, difficult conversations, and then having to go back to your desk and write up reports, or review crappy work, you fall into an existential crisis over the meaning of life. You go home after midnight, and veg in front of the TV since you have so much going on in your head that you can't fall sleep. The few moments that you call free time are so precious that it feels so empty when nothing meaningful fills it. Last year, in an attempt to make things happen, I thought meaningful moments were to be spent in the company of Prince Charming, aka random weirdos on match.com or okcupid. It was really unfair for me to do that to them- give them the duty to make my life meaningful and project my feelings that every 4 week relationship was really going into the realms of "happily ever after." No wonder I was blocked on g-chat.

I must say that Ted talk on vulnerability changed my life Iris. I used to struggle for that sense of love and belonging, always thinking that I never did enough to warrant a good relationship. Once I slowed down, I saw that everything and everyone around me exudes love and I can finally appreciate it. I am no longer searching, but patient with matters of the heart.

(3) Eleven days ago, in attempt to practice my toe side carving, while speeding down Timberline trail in Killington Vermont, I caught an edge, tumbled twice, using my right ankle against the ground as the pivot point, carrying on my full body weight. I've never sprained a muscle or broke a bone before, so this was a first for me.

In a city I know like the back of my hand, I can zig zag between any crowds, and know the fastest way to get from Point A to Point B (except anywhere near Sheridan Square- which I consider NYC's Bermuda triangle). It is by far a humbling experience to limp at snail's pace in Midtown. With the extra seconds with each walk I've taken, I learned how important it is to recognize your physical limits.

In an attempt not to mess my ankle anymore than it already was, I was bed-ridden for the weekend. With an active mind, this was the most difficult thing: to sit still because I physically had to, not because I wanted to. My mom told me that's probably what it's like for her elderly client (mom's a caretaker)-- overweight, with alzheimers, occasionally disoriented, only watches TV game shows (easy because there's no plot as my mom says) and always asking to eat oreos to pass the time.  I cannot even begin to imagine what life is like when your physical and mental capacities deteriorate. Note to self: stock up on gingko biloba and omega 3 fish oil supplements to strengthen the brain.

(4) Yesterday, my 98 year old grandmother passed away. For the past 5 years, our conversations were only about one thing: whether my sister and I were doing well in school. Were we concentrating and working hard or from a literal translation, "were we putting 100% of our hearts into it", she would ask? With that question, she was by far the easiest to please. I'd get to tell her I graduated and started working at a large accounting firm, and my sister graduated too and worked at a bank. She would be so excited every time I would repeat this news. In the past 15 months, my mom would call her and sometimes my Grandma and I would exchange a few words over the phone. The question was always the same, except when I responded, she would talk over me, telling me over and over again to "put 100% of my heart" into it, and I was never quite sure if she even heard my response. Perhaps it is because she was illiterate that this was a question worth so much emphasis.

For a 98 year old woman who never went to school, I wonder what her milestones were, and what her reset moments were. During the Communist Revolution, when farms were being confiscated by the central government and redistributed, there was a mass exodus of people from the Guangdong province to Hong Kong, which was a British colony at the time. In the mad dash, people who travelled long distances with the few valuables that they could carry on their backs would inevitably lose sight on their children in the crowds of refugees. My grandmother, in her 30s at the time, saw a crying little boy about eight years old, hungry and without his family in sight. She adopted him, and they would eat whatever tubers they could find for a year. Ever since then, I've never seen her eat a potato. Even in her 80s when she had high blood pressure, she would always order the shrimp dumplings at dimsum. I think that's where I got my foodie tendencies from. She was a woman who spent some time in Singapore, and in her second marriage, she married a sailor, and she would live vicariously through souvenirs he brought back from different places that he had been. She didn't lead an easy life. She would be widowed twice: my grandfather, her second husband, passed at 51 years old, and she would make ends meet with three kids, without an education, subletting rooms in a small apartment in Mongkok, Hong Kong. During the lazy summer nights, like me, she would play maj-jong based on memory- without knowing how to read the characters on the tiles.

In her life, she made the most of her circumstances, and I will never forget the many times she reminded me to put "100% of my heart into it (Bei sum gei)."

Summer 2005- 21 years old me with 92 years young Grandma


I see my life through a different perspective now. I learned that the heart grows with patience. I respect the impermanence of our lives. I understand the limits of the human body. 2011 was spent testing the limits, and pushing myself to change, to find someone and to find a new career. 2012 will be dedicated to slowing down and learning more about myself.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I would like to beg you dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."

-Rilke, Letters to a young poet

Saturday, January 14, 2012

The Dragon Princess

To speak of solitude again, it becomes always clearer that this is at bottom not something that one can take or leave. We are solitary. We may delude ourselves and act as though this were not so. That is all. But how much better it is to realize that we are so, yes, even to begin by assuming it. We shall indeed turn dizzy then; for all points upon which our eye has beem accustomed to rest are taken from us, there is nothing near any more and everything far is infinitely far. A person removed from his own room, almost without preparation and transition, and set upon the height of a great mountain range, would feel something of the sort: an unparalleled insecurity, an abandonment to something inexpressible would almost annihilate him. He would think himself falling or hurled out into space, or exploded into a thousand pieces: what a monstrous lie his brain would have to invent to catch up with and explain the state of his senses!

So for him who becomes soltitary all distances, all measures change; of these changes many take place suddenly, and then, as with the man on the mountaintop, extraordinary imaginings and singular sensations arise that seem to grow out beyond all bearing. But it is necessary for us to experience that too. We must assume our existence as broadly as we in any way we can; everything, even the unheard-of must be possible in it. That is at bottom the only courage that is demanded of us: to have courage for the most strange, the most singular, and the most inexplicable that we may encounter. That mankind has in this sense been cowardly has done life endless harm; the experiences that are called "visions," the whole so-called "spirit-world," death, all those things that are so closely akin to us, have by daily parrying been so crowded out of life that the senses with which we could have grasped them are atrophied. To say nothing of God.

But fear of the inexplicable has not alone impoverished the existence of the individual; the relationship between one human being and another has also been cramped by it, as thought it had been lifted out of the riverbed of endless possibilities and set down in a fallow spot on the bank, to which nothing happens. For it is not inertia alone that is responsible for human relationships repeating themselves from case to case, indescribably monotonous and unrenewed; it is shyness before any sort of new, unforeseeable experience with which one does not think oneself able to cope. But only someone who is ready for everything, who excludes nothing, not even the most enigmatical, will live the relation to another as something alive and will himself draw exhaustively from his own existence. For if we think of this existence of the individual as a larger or smaller room, it appears evident that most people learn to know only a corner of their room, a place by the window, a strip of floor on which they walk up and down. Thus they have a certain security. And yet that dangerous insecurity is so much more human which drives the prisoners in Poe's stories to feel out the shapes of their horrible dungeons and not be strangers to the unspeakable terror of their abode.

We, however, are not prisoners. No traps or snares are set about us, and there is nothing which should intimidate or worry us. We are set down in life as in the element to which we best correspond, and over and above this we have through thousands of years of accomodation become so like this life, that when we hold still we are, through a happy mimicry, scarcely to be distinguished from all that surrounds us. We have no reason to mistrust our world, for it is not against us. Has it terrors, they are our terrors; has it abysses, those abysses belong to us; are dangers at hand, we must try to love them. And if only we arrange our life according to that principle which counsels us that we must always hold to the difficult, then that which now still seems to us the most alien will become what we most trust and find most faithful. How should we be able to forget those ancient myths that are at the beginning of all peoples, the myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses; perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us.

by Rainier Maria Rilke (I typed this up because I really loved this and wanted to share. I even re-read it to fix typos. Rilke has and always will be my Dr. Phil)

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

because i love ethan hawke

great week. snowboarded in vermont. got hot tub folliculitis. got stuck in a strip mall parking lot when the mini van couldn't start. after many attempts, we gave up and watched MI4 instead. movie tickets in the boondocks of vermont are $6.50. picked up a hitch-hiker who carried a cardboard sign that said "kill." ironically, she was an overweight, 60 year old stoner with a cane who grew her own marijuana. sprained my ankle. at the end of the trip, all we had in the fridge were bud lights and vanilla ice cream... and you know what that means... bud light floats.

which also means... this will be a lazy post.. about ethan hawke.. and those meaningless exchanges you have with strangers outside of bars. This is from the movie- "New York, I love you." I can't embed so click the link if you have 6 minutes. 

http://youtu.be/vkAoUN5HRtA

if you're looking to read a good post, check this http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/what-moving-on-is-like/

Simple Happy Tuesday

Monday night as I was laying in bed, I made a resolution to myself that I would pay attention to all the things that made me happier on Tuesday.

Here goes my list:

-A good night's sleep (something that can't be purchased but makes you feel like a million bucks)
-my dad surprising me by making breakfast
-my conversation with my boyfriend during my morning (and afternoon) commute
-Ace of Base on the radio (rythm is a dancer...heeelloo throwback!!)
-my first sip of coffee (seriously, nothing beats this...It is literally what I look forward to every morning!)
-pandora (I would not have enjoyed writing reports half as much if it wasn't for the music in the background)
-my lunch (plain and simple, good food will always make me happy! (especially when I make it and know that it is healthy)
-Joining a gym
-paycheck (my first one in two months....woohoo!! Hello savings!!)
-my gps (I would constantly be lost if it wasn't for my gps)
-spending the night at my friends house and catching up
-ordering chinese food (the best I have had in a long time) and having ice cream (yum)
-making my to-do list for the week (order makes me happy)
-watching the movie "I don't know how she does it" (perfect movie for my mood!)
-water (so refreshing!)
-my nightly routine (it feels so good to unwind after a long day- to treat my skin by using facewash and moisturizing and brushing my teeth)
-my cozy pj's and bed.....ahh...sweet relief! :)

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Beautiful Video

I stumbled across this recently and I thought it was really beautiful/cool and wanted to share:


Interview with God

Monday, January 9, 2012

this year

this year from hila:

"this year, i will
stop saying yes
when i really mean no,
and stop saying no
when i'm too afraid to say yes."



and equally important:


"this year, i will
write
so very much,
just for my own pleasure
and no-one else.
i will take time to enjoy words
rather than edit them."

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

We're talking multitudes here, people




On New Year’s Day I already had plans to rendezvous with my friends at Brooklyn Bowl in the afternoon and kick off 2012 with large quantities of fried chicken and biscuits.  But while L and I were tossing around possible breakfast suggestions and she threw Ikea into the ring I knew there was no way I could begin this next year in my life without a pilgrimage to my favorite Swedish mecca.  Sitting crossed-legged at the kitchen table, I could almost taste those savory Swedish meatballs, drenched in gravy and rolled around in lingonberry sauce.  Even as L’s father straightened up oversections of The New York Times and asked if we were really going to drive out to Long Island for Swedish meatballs, I knew I had to talk L into it.  I could already taste those miraculously creamy mashed potatoes, those cool glasses of lingonberry juice.  I’d even down that bowl of questionable salad, with the sad frayed lettuce edges and tough carrot shreds.  Luckily L is used to my random flights of fancy and she didn’t need a whole lot of convincing to schlep it out onto the LIE.  (Did I mention the meatballs?)

And even though I usually prefer to stay in on the first day of a new year, I have to admit that this was the BEST. NEW. YEAR’S. DAY. EVER.  Safely ensconced in a sun-drenched section of the dining area with my meatball special and a large plate of crispy fries (we couldn’t resist), I felt that heightened sense of clam that accompanies a fresh beginning.  Here I have the clean slate of a whole new year and where else to start it all then the store that helps us create environmentally-friendly, affordable, and beautifully designed surroundings?  (I swear, Ikea isn’t paying me to write this.)  

To me, the beginning of a new year still holds a bit of that feeling that anything is possible—this is the time to actualize some crazy dream of our, release it out into the great, wide world.  Ikea also brings forth that feeling in me.  Meandering through the charmingly space-efficient mock apartments makes me hope too…that I could make 180 square foot studio work…that I’ll stumble into the perfectly situated 500 square foot apartment…that one day I can have rooms to encompass everything I want to be—create an art space, set up a writing studio, make a meditation room. 

As L and I sat on the prerequisite bench, slurping our free fro-yo cones (yes, free!), the cogs in my brain started churning again and I came up with a new resolution:  to do at least one silly activity a week that makes me happy.  Building a line of teeny tiny snowmen along an untrodden pathway.  Stopping to marvel at new treebuds.  Splashing through rain puddles in brightly colored wellies.  Stepping on crunchy leaves (I’ve been told that walking with me in the fall is like being tethered to a four-year-old).

Ikea makes me slow down, re-evaluate what I might really want instead of the goals I’m already pursing.  Because the store means endless possibilities to me, it reminds me that I also have endless possibilities (Okay, Whitman said it best.  We’re talking multitudes here, people).  I just have to stop and listen to them.  I think I’m going to start by blowing bubbles this week.

The Power of Vulnerability



Brene Brown gave a moving speech on TED entitled "The Power of Vulnerability."  As a scientifically-minded woman, she explains how she began by looking for a way to eradicate vulnerability--which had me nodding along because who wouldn't like a world where you're not suspended by your inevitably vulnerable points?  Of course, Brene discovers that vulnerability is actually something we need, and she does it in such a compelling way that even I, a disbeliever, can see what she means.

Yet another thing to add to my resolutions...learn to accept that everyone is vulnerable.  And that by being vulnerable, we learn to free ourselves from a lot of our crazy fears.  How else can we grow?

It's time to TED it up--because Brene Brown speaks for me!

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Simple Happy

I don't usually believe in New Years resolutions and therefore I don't typically set a resolution. The way I look at it is that resolutions should be made all year long and I should never stop working on improving myself. Although I don't have a resolution per say, I am looking forward to this year because it symbolizes a fresh start and gives me a chance to check in with myself to see how I am doing with all the goals I set all year long. Lucky for me, in a couple of months it will be the Persian New Year and I will have another opportunity to do this.

This year my biggest goal has consistently been to do things that keep me happy. I guess I have come to a point in my life that I am seeing first hand that as much as you work hard or plan ahead, there is no guarantee in life. Right now I am honestly just happy that I am well and knock on wood so is everyone I care most about. Life is really hard and sometimes it really makes no sense and I am over trying to make sense of it. Sometimes it is so easy to get stuck focusing on all our problems that we lose sight of everything else. I am very guilty of this- I have my share of moments where I beat myself up because I am 27 and not where I want to be in life. I catch myself comparing myself to others or feeling anxious because all my ducks aren't in a row (so to speak). But I realy don't want something bad to happen for me to realize how good I actually have it. I don't want to look back and regret I didn't do more when I could. I don't want to rush this stage of my life trying to get to where I think I should be just to look back and realize I was exactly where I should've been all along. I get really anxious about the stupidest things sometimes but then I hear my mom or sister or a friend talk and I realize it's not just me- it's practically everyone (including elementary schoolers and middle schoolers). We all get so consumed by our problems and half of the time we don't even realize just how consumed we are. So I guess it is not an easy goal, but it's a goal nonetheless...plain and simple, I just want to have fun this year! When I am busy laughing, doing something I really enjoy, or around loved ones, I am less consumed by my problems and I actually catch myself being happy. That is basically my biggest desire is for 2012....to catch myself more often being happy and to savor each and every moment of it whenever it happens!