Let the commencement begin :)

DAY ONE. Get on board :)

The 'Like' List.

I'm going to start a "'Like' List." Every day I'm going to write down one thing, big or small, that brings happiness into my day. One thing that causes me to smile. This is not saying that I'm only going to like just one thing out of every day, but it'll just be an extra little reminder that no matter what kind of day I'm having, there's ALWAYS something to find joy in! Who wants in? :) 

Love is strong.

Today, October 24th, marks the day of my parents' 23rd wedding anniversary.
23 years and still going strong.
Cathy and Mike McGowan, you are the best parents.  Better than you know.  Better than I can give you credit for in words.
I've loved you for the last 20 years.  I love you know.  I'll love you forever!

Balancing act.

     Every single living, breathing human being on this earth faces struggle.  We may not be aware of it all the time, but I’m pretty sure that there is not one person who can honestly say that they have been able to walk through life thus far without being faced by some sort of challenge to overcome, no matter how put-together they may come across at first meeting.  It can be so easy to get inside this mentality, that So-and-So over there is so lucky.  They have such a perfect life!  They are a straight-A student with no acne, they drive the nicest, newest model car because they have a job that puts consistent paychecks in the bank, they have the coolest family in town, and everything just comes so easily to them!  We all know people like that, right?  We all can probably also identify with the Green Monster of Jealousy that likes to sit on our shoulder when we think about them, whispering those skewed thoughts into our ears.  When we are dealing with times of hardship, it’s so easy to find perfection in everyone else, annoyed with the fact that it seems like everyone’s got it all except me.  Making that claim, however—the one that pins someone down as the one free of any battles, the one that assumes that a person or a group of people doesn’t know what “true” struggle means—is a dangerous one to make because we’re purely going off of our skewed perception.  As an outside individual, we may be completely unaware of what exactly a person is going through internally.  Even those closest to them may not be fully knowledgeable about the situation at hand.  Not convinced?  It’s okay, because like I said, as people we can’t help but believe that what our partial perceptions are telling us are truth.  I’ll be the first to admit of being fully guilty of this way of thinking at times!  But I’d advise you to keep reading. 

I’m going to give you an example of an obstacle that was recently faced (thankfully with very little repercussions and before the slippery slope led to potentially life-threatening consequences).  In this situation, the one forced to deal with the issue was also the one convincing her self that she was perfectly fine.

I had put myself in a very dangerous position.

Being a dancer, I know the importance of living a healthy lifestyle.  It’s one that I completely advocate because I know how wonderful it feels to feel in control of your physical, mental and emotional health.  At this point in my life, though, at 20 years of age, I can officially say I know how easily that balance can be tipped.

Let me go back.  Let’s go all the way back to the spring of junior year of high school.  During spring break, my family and I took a vacation to Disney World.  It was my sister’s and my first time ever going and it was a fabulous trip, up until about Wednesday when I started feeling signs of sickness.  By the time we flew back Friday I was running a fever and feeling miserable.  What I thought was just a common flu virus turned out to be mono.  I was out of school for only a few weeks (which I was very thankful for!), but that was the beginning of the first rough patch.  I recouped over the early summer months (while also tending to the small case of tendonitis I had developed in my left ankle), but come August the next setback decided to fall.  My knee became infected at the dance studio one day and was inflamed for days, unable to bend and making mobility a hard task.  I had to pretty much stay off of it for a few weeks, meaning no dance.  At the end of August I got the okay from the doctor to go back to class, but no sooner had he said that I could dance again, the second (well, third including the tendonitis) injury came.  The first day of senior year, I woke up and couldn’t get out of bed due to excruciating lower back pain.  My mom and I went to the chiropractor and it turned out a disc somehow wedged out of alignment, hindering my range of mobility and causing the nerves pinch.  Chiropractic care three times a week for about five months allowed me to be dancing again come competition season in January, though by this point I was mentally worn out from the ups and downs of the past months.  On top of it all, senior year stress continued to press upon me.  So what did I do to cope?  Stress ate.  (Which I did—ALL year).

I tell you these details so that you have an idea as to why I really took a turn in the opposite direction.  During the earlier part of 2009 and through the summer, I started working toward getting myself back on track.  In August, though, with school approaching, knowing that I really did have to change some parts of my daily lifestyle so that I could get the most out of the dance program I would be attending at New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts and perform my absolute best, I made some diet adjustments.  And at the time, that was just what needed to happen!  For example, I was always a compulsive peanut butter eater (literally, I’d eat it by multiple heaping spoonfuls every single day), so I decided to give that a rest for a while.  I also decided that soda was unnecessary and I didn’t have to drink it as frequently as I did, so I substituted that with water.  Thirdly, I switched from always using mayonnaise as my sandwich condiment of choice to mustard.  That was it!  And that was all I needed to start feeling the differences I needed to!

The healthy eating continued as my first fall semester hit the ground running.  Because of the intense dance load and the amount of city-walking and using stairs on a daily basis, getting in shape was not hard to do.  In fact, in this rigorous program we really have no choice!  This was the perfect phase, though, because while I ate very cleanly, I was still able to treat myself on occasion without feeling weighed down by guilt.  Each night I’d have a little chocolate or something sweet to curb any craving I might have had.  Every now and then I’d let myself enjoy a bigger and more fun treat just because, and that was always great to look forward to!  All in all, I pretty much had it down last fall!  I knew how my body needed to be fueled, and I was doing it right.  The New Year came.  Winter break ended.  School started back up again.  This is where the mentality shifts due to an array of emotional factors.   

My chiropractor here in the city is affiliated with a nutritionist, and one day in mid-February or so—one rainy, cold winter day, when I happened to be feeling more tired than usual—he had his nutritionist in the office and decided to have him run some tests to just to see where my levels were at, just making sure I didn’t have any nutritional deficiencies.  Turns out, all my numbers were in the exactly where they needed to be—no deficiencies, nothing in excess, no areas of concern.  It was an awesome feeling knowing that I was in peak physical health, but I think what I was more relieved by was the fact that a professional in the subject area was telling me that I was perfectly okay—reinforcing my own claims I’d created for myself—when I knew full well that while the readouts of my iron and omega-3 were where they needed to be, my mind was headed somewhere it shouldn’t have been.

The winter months went on.  It got colder.  I became more stressed.  Fatigue set in heavier than usual.  My workload increased.  My rehearsal time increased.  The amount of daily mental and physical activity I took part in increased.

My obsession with food drastically increased.

The amount of food I put in my body each day went on the decline.

I think of the months of February through May as my time of “anorexic tendencies.”  PLEASE KNOW that I have never been diagnosed with or monitored for a full-on eating disorder, nor did I completely starve myself at any time.  But after experiencing the lifestyle that I’d created, I know what it feels like to be obsessed with food consumption, and please believe me when I say it is not an experience that you want to put yourself in.

Like I said, it’s not that I had completely stopped eating.  That really would be completely out of the question.  I still ate breakfast, lunch and dinner and got in all the food groups that make up a balanced diet.  However, that was it.  Breakfast was eaten at or around 7 A.M. and consisted of a single packet of oatmeal and a banana.  That would be fine if I wasn’t going to burn it off after just walking to the dance studio from my room (which was a good 20-minute walk) before dancing for the next three hours (and then racing back across campus Monday through Thursday for an hour and fifteen minute academic class).  My lunch break came at 2 P.M. those four days, and I was always overjoyed when that time finally rolled around.  During this period of time, lunch usually equaled a power bar and some fruit (and possibly some veggies, too, if I felt that I really needed them).  Tuesdays and Fridays though were my “treat” days: turkey sandwich, yogurt AND granola and some fruit.  (I know.  Terrible, right?)  Dinner—never eaten before 6 in the evening due to the lateness of our class and rehearsal schedule—was the time of day that made me most anxious because it was really the only meal I’d actually have time to eat in a dining hall.  Most nights I put together a huge salad, topped with all the vegetables and some meat with a little portion of whatever the hot meal was that particular night.  Eventually, though, it got to the point where I found myself doing some serious calorie counting.  All the dining halls on campus have the nutritional information posted next to the item on the menu boards which really made me nervous as I was choosing what I’d eat that night.  Come April and May, if an entrée were over 200 calories I’d turn away, thinking that was too much and I couldn’t put that into my body.  (I know.  I know.)  Mealtime became quite the ordeal, and it soon began affecting me otherwise. 

Winter came and went.  The beautiful New York spring days began appearing more and more, yet as wonderful as they were to see again, this meant that the weather would be changing, the temperature would be rising and we’d be faced with the scorching summer heat sooner than we’d probably like.  This is true.  The suffocating city heat welcomed itself forcefully into each day and us city-dwellers could do nothing to stop it.  The love-hate relationship with the seasonal changes was especially felt by those of us in the Tisch dance department, whose studio space at 111 Second Avenue is without air conditioning.  Long story short, it got hot.  And overwhelmingly so.  But in the beginning the heat didn’t phase me one bit.  Along with other physical issues I was becoming aware of, I couldn’t retain body heat.  I blamed it on bad circulation.  But I knew that that was not the case at all.  The reason why I would be absolutely freezing every morning during dance classes in studios that were reaching 80, 90, some days even 100 degrees, is because my body had nothing to insulate itself with.  And how could it?  I wasn’t giving it one thing with which it could possibly work!  My behaviors began to shift as well, anti-sociality being the biggest issue.  I was constantly secluding myself, not wanting to put myself in a position vulnerable to temptation.  Even just getting coffee with friends on occasion (which is one of my favorite ways to catch up with people!) was out of the question.  Scale reading was frequent, sometimes two, three, four times a day.  It seemed that no matter where I was at, I could do better.  I could do better.  Like it was a competition or something.  It was as if once I’d dropped another pound or two, I’d “succeeded.”  I’d conquered a task.  Instead of maintaining a healthy, fit weight, I had to keep going.  I mean I’d gotten this far already, right?  Yeah, well that’s great, but how can I beat this?

I was unhappy with this state of mind and way of living.

But I did everything in my power to tell myself that I was the happiest I’ve ever been.

And yes, I did manage to do that for some time, and only because I’d managed to blur the very fine line between being happy with the way I felt and being happy with the image of what I felt I looked like.  I was stuck on the second. 

I never thought this would be a challenge I’d ever be faced with.  I specifically remember talking to my grandmother once when I was younger about it, actually.  I remember saying that even if I wanted do I could never get caught up with food.  I love it too much!  And in the beginning of my whole lifestyle transformation in the summer of 2009, I wasn’t!  I had made changes without taking it to an extreme.  Time and control issues seemed to work together to beat out rationality, disguising themselves well as perfectly plausible justifications for my habits and excuses.  I never thought I would be battling myself over what to eat and how much, but I was.  I had to.  And it was real.

During the summer, everything completely reversed.  Since I’d denied myself of everything for so long, I reverted back to my old ways, shoveling it all in.  I now used the excuse, “I haven’t had ‘fill in the blank’ in so long!  I’m just treating myself!”  I was treating myself many times a day.  Laziness kicked in as well; I lost motivation to keep up with workouts, feeling like I’d just lost it all, so why bother?  I found myself thrown to the complete opposite side of the tracks.

I didn’t like it there either.

This is a learning experience that I am very thankful to have had because, like I said, I was able to learn so much about my body and my way of thinking and coping techniques without suffering serious consequences.  The battle has yet to be won, but it’s safe to say I’m on my way to finding that middle ground.  I’m learning the value of balance.  I’m learning the importance of diversity within the norm.  I know that structure and routine is beneficial, but without any kind of variation, that “safe” routine can have the intrinsically manipulative drifts.

I love feeling healthy again. Not skinny. Healthy. I love feeling fit but balanced. When we think about living a healthy lifestyle, we have to remember that that encompasses all aspects of our body's health, mental as well as physical. Taking care of ourselves means regarding all areas of wellness equally rather than simply focusing on one or two things to an extreme.  Trust me—giving yourself freedom within your boundaries allows for a much happier, healthier “you.”

Don't say you can't until you try. Chances are...You can.

I sat down at the piano tonight and created my first composition.
Man, did it feel great to be back at that piano.

:)

A new decade has begun.
Hello 20's.

:)

It's coming.

I turn 20 in less than six hours.

:)

I have to admit...I'm getting pretty excited.

The reality of reality.

The reality about reality is that it is.  No matter what, actual reality is.  When we create an image of a desired reality, we run the risk of shielding our vision with a poisonous veil.  Sometimes those images begin authentically, growing from a seed planted within honesty, but the combination of time and over-analysis, manipulation and excuses can cause the creation of an alternate reality that is mistaken for what actually is. 

This is done more often than we may realize, seeing as we—sometimes unknowingly, other times completely consciously—convince ourselves of and live by the understanding of our own truths.  When this is done, the chance of missing the beautiful opportunities reality presents us with increases; we move right on by the things, places, people, situations and environments that may not be “ideal” by our own standards without even looking because we’ve persuaded ourselves that what we think we know to be right, is. 

But it’s not always.  Because it’s not reality. 

It’s an idea.  It’s an image.  It’s a wish.  It’s a desire. 

It’s a defense against all that doesn’t fit into the bounds of our images.

It’s an alternative route to the one that is ultimately unavoidable, whether we want to take it or no, the one with the challenges, with the questions, with fear, with uncertainty.  But it’s that road which always leads directly to a place of peace and understanding.  Out of all of the elements of reality, these seem to be the ones that we make an effort to steer clear of, yet these are the areas from which we will learn and experience so much growth.  We can’t achieve knowledge without having questions first.  We can’t grow unless we allow our hearts to be humbled; human pride doesn’t agree much with the idea of humility. 

It’s nearly impossible to completely suppress these utopian mentalities, so it’s not necessarily their development that becomes detrimental as much as the lack of differentiation between real and non-real that we lead ourselves to mesh into one.  It’s not the image of the desired reality that proves to be harmful, but the act of hanging onto its fraying threads, progressing slowly while actual reality is going headstrong into the future, ready to take us places, physically and mentally, that we wouldn’t be able to find by way of intangibles. 

Why go through our days barely keeping a grip on what really isn’t when we can live in a true, plentiful, eye opening, fulfilling reality where everything really is?

Snapshots.

Beautiful, huh?  And to think that all five of these shots were taken within the boundaries of our own country.  I'm going to see them firsthand someday.  Maybe not in the immediate future, but it'll happen.  But why stay home?  I'm going see the photos of the world's scrapbook firsthand, right before my eyes.  There's so much to see, so many places to go that extend beyond our backyard fence, each of which is totally unique and utterly beautiful.

Expectation.

I was expecting to wake up to clouds and rain today.
The sky is blue and clear and the sun is brightly shining.
And that's all it takes to start off a day on the right foot.
Happy Wednesday everyone! :)

Love to all,
M

Side note...

I can now count the days until I turn the big 2-0 on two hands.  Wow!

Bittersweet Mondays.

I feel really weird about Monday mornings.
Whereas most people can't stand Mondays, I really don't mind them.  Sunday nights to me are actually worse than Monday mornings, because on Sunday night we have the knowledge of what's waiting right on the other side of sleep and we're unable to do anything about it.  Once it comes, though, I really don't have a problem with it!
But like I said, I woke up this morning feeling weird about the week as I always do.  Yet while this isn't a new emotion for me toward the week, this was the first morning I'd actually addressed it.
It's not that I don't like Monday mornings, but rather I have the tendency to wake up every single week with a heavy, weighted feeling in my stomach, usually accompanied by a butterfly or two, a feeling of intimidation.  Here I am at 7 in the morning with an 11+ hour day ahead with and four more days to follow.  From the vantage point that I find myself at at this particular time in the week, the whole picture just seems to be a daunting concept.
Why is this the first thought I let into my mind?  Usually I'd say I can't help it.  And it's true...My questioning mind takes over as soon as my alarm goes off.  I find myself thinking, "Wow.  It's only Monday morning.  I still have five whole days until Friday.  Can I make it?  Will I get through my classes? How will rehearsals go this week?  Will my body hold up?  There are five days worth of hours to fill.  It's so LONG!"  These thoughts and questions enter my mind, even when I know full well that all of a sudden I'm going to wake up and it'll be Friday morning, four out of five work days behind me, and I'll be wondering where in the world the week has gone.
So this week, I'm not letting myself look past this day.  I can't let myself get intimidated by the week when I haven't even stepped into this day yet!  Each day is an entity in its own; I will not wish my time away, nor will I long for a day that's passed.  Each day will come, each day will bring its new challenges as it must but not a moment too soon, so why let myself feel pressured to perform well every day when I'm only given one at a time to conquer?
This week will be a great one.  But I'm not going to get ahead of myself.  This day will be a great one and serve as a great lead in to tomorrow, which will serve as a great lead in to Wednesday and so on.  I'm ready to conquer these five individual days, which will then result in one awesome, productive week.  We're all ready.

Love to all,
M

I will not wait.

"I will run from stagnancy. And I will run fast. There's too much to see, too much to do, too far to go. Nothing will get accomplished by simply watching expectantly."

Sometimes it's okay to be late.

I got my body to sleep in "late" this morning.  Two years ago, late would probably be a more accurate description, seeing as when given the opportunity this girl would roll out of bed around 12 or 12:30 pm and shuffle downstairs like an awakened zombie.  But those days are no more.  Thanks to early mornings day after day, I have become quite the morning person.  (I know, I never thought I'd see the day either!)  Not setting my alarm on a Saturday morning means I'll be up by 8:15 am at the latest.  I haven't minded all that much; some days I wake up more annoyed than others, but for the most part, this is a new habit I can live easily with.

This morning, though, my body's decided to ignore my typical wake-up call.
I didn't greet this beautiful morning until a whopping 10:20 A.M.!

This is due to the fact that I didn't go to sleep until 3:30 am...

I really had no reason to be up as late as I was.  Lord knows I wasn't doing work that needs to be done (there's still plenty of time for that), or really anything productive for that matter.  I was zoned into mindless technology, my computer screen before me and the television on across the room.  But despite the late hour and the lack of productivity--which would usually evoke stress and frustration--I felt completely calm, full of peace.  I found myself able to breathe easy and to enjoy this rare occasion where the only thought going through my mind was "This is wonderful!  What an awesome little treat this time is!"  Sitting on the couch with laptop and television remote on hand, it was a late night free from necessity and accompanied only by happiness.

I've learned over the past year or so that being "late" isn't always a bad thing.  Mind you, this is coming from the girl who's more often than not at least five minutes early and hates being late to or for anything. I've been that way for as long as I can remember.  But I'm learning that as great as schedules and planning are, we can't totally box ourselves in, held captive by alarms, to-do's and itineraries.  Remember, there's a time an place for everything; when referring to set events such as early morning ballet class or conference calls or meetings, I'm not suggesting the "late mentality" by any means.  But for other areas of our day or week, maybe being a little more flex wouldn't be such a bad thing?

Take a minute, an hour for yourself.  Be late.  Sometimes, it's really okay.

Love to all,
M

Hidden from sight but not from the heart.

"Love. I feel it somewhere so deep within my being that I don't know if I'd be able to find it if I went looking. But I don't really have the desire to locate its source. I don't have to justify that it's there. Genuine love needs no explanation."

And we begin again.

So for those of you who know me, you know that I already have one blog going.  Please don't totally disregard that one, seeing as I will continue posting on it quite often.  But that seems to be home to my longer trains of thought, the essay-like entries taking up much more screen space than these quick notes I'd like to share with my readers. So think of this as more of a journal-entry snapshot into my daily experiences.  Here is where I'll share accounts of the things, places, people, situations, etc. that bring about a sensation of joy within my heart.  Each morning when I wake up these days, I am literally overwhelmed with a sense of peace and joy, excited about what lies ahead, but alas, Facebook status updates don't give me enough space to really share these delights effectively.  As a result, we find ourselves here.

This is a space for happiness, for joy, for optimism, for excitement, for gratitude, for appreciation...This is a space for the big things, the small things, and all things in between that allow for a breath, a smile and a laugh, even if for only a second a day.

Because really, a second is all that's necessary.  But it is absolutely necessary.

Love to all :)

M