New Year. New Website. Boom.
I once read somewhere that hugging another person allows a sense of relaxation, the slowing of the heart beat and a warmth from the exchange of love.
Holidays bring so many hugs and I have to wonder if this feeling of less stress, an open + vulnerable heart and very clear skin are a direct result of all the hugging. I do wonder. And well, I do believe so.
Every embrace has been nourishment to my sweet soul this holiday season.
I wrote about my sweet friend, Sarita last year and how she taught me to hug, like this:
“…I mean, hugs all around….to a full on, heart to heart, close your eyes ‘embrace’. The embrace goes about 4 seconds longer than any normal hug you may be used to. Almost to that point of awkward, questioning if this is still happening and why is it taking so long as I will see her tomorrow type hug. And then you realize that its Sarita, making sure you truly feel loved in a moment. And you are forever transformed to hug everyone four seconds longer. Thank you for teaching me the beauty of human embrace and for the extra four seconds.”
And thus, I send you a hug that lasts four seconds too long.
I send you love, deep and scary + vulnerable love.
I send you honest conversation and a commitment to rock 2013 together.
And as we close this holiday season, it is not too late to hug longer, love harder and feel it, for real.
My heart hurts when I read the news today and every day.
It feels cold, dark and scary out there.
I feel my sisters’ hearts. I feel my parents’ hearts. I feel.
I love harder and I hug closer.
Perspective is unreal. Unreal.
Blame games, selfish plights and small fights feel what they are, small.
It is in every single one of us, every single day, to be great.
To choose great. To radiate.
When I see you, I will hug you. Please hug me back.
My heart pressed to your heart.
Share more. Love more. Be more.
Touch more. Laugh more. Cry more.
Start feeling more.
Now is the time.
It took everything in me to get out of the bed Saturday morning in the midst of the sprinkling rain, little sleep and a mild hangover. Yet as my boyfriend reminded me at the foot of the bed, ‘Hey, you committed to it, get up, let’s go’. He was right and I was up.
And, we ran. My sweet little family of three ran a Christmas 10K together.
After the race, I came home and plopped on the couch and watched Christmas movies with my sweet runner of a dog all afternoon. In the midst of watching the show and a well-deserved nap, I drained my phone battery as I kept going through my photos from the run. I would click one picture, then the next. Zoom in here, smile there. Crop this, instagram that.
And in that moment, I knew my joy.
What I know to be joy is: I love finish lines with my boyfriend, hiking in the mountains, goals conversations over coffee, a ride on a Vespa scooter, a heart opening yoga flow, and red wine + laughter.
I say, know your joy. LOVE the pictures that capture your life!
And always know, you have to get out of bed to be in them!
The lighting was low, the space was crowded and the atmosphere was a bit posh.
We were seated amongst the conversations, outdoors on the patio near a fire pit with a single lit candle on the wooden table.
My heart beats for this man I am with and it was his birthday. As we leaned in to share iPhone light to read the menu, I felt the room slowly melt away.
His half smile and thus crooked moustache stared back at me in the dark. In that moment, it was just me and him. Him and me. Just us.
We talked for hours. He shared about his favorite parts of the year, we talked about our communication breakdowns and most amazing breakthroughs, and painted our clear and radical future. We talked about everything and then we talked about nothing. I cried silently inside with the utmost gratitude for this life, for this man and for this moment. Reality check, was it my birthday?
While smiling now and remembering the moments by the fire pit, I realized how beautifully and intently I was listening. Hanging on to every word he spoke, we spoke. Listening so hard.
And it was and is a beautiful irony that we connected on such an intimate level in such the public space that would seemingly not allow it.
Just him and me. Me and him.
I say, let the rooms melt. Listen. Listen so much harder.
A story about self-indulgence and not being present.
I flew home back to LA last night from holidays in Houston with my family. My plane was slightly delayed and I had checked baggage, which I will tell you over and over again, never check bags to LAX. It takes forever.
Anyways, I finally arrive home last night to my sweet and quaint apartment in Venice with my dog and boyfriend waiting for me at the front door. They help this weary holiday traveler with luggage, much needed hugs and a momentary shared happiness to be home.
And then I spiraled. I came in pretty charged from a long flight, conversations rambling in my head about some drama and a need to complain. Oh, and complain I did for about an hour too long to my patient and sleepy boyfriend.
In waking up this morning, I am in utter awe and really sad as to what I missed last night amidst my bullsh*t complaining and lame vent session.
It goes like this:
+ I missed out on how clean the house was when I walked in. Eat-food-off-the-floor clean.
+ I missed out on the smell of a clean puppy, as my boyfriend had given him a bath earlier that day.
+ I missed out on the empty laundry basket and the fresh sheets I got to climb into. Even worse, Chris had waited to pull back the sheets so we could climb into the Mountain Fresh fabric softener smell together. Dear boyfriends of the World, are you taking notes?
+ I missed out on a full fridge stocked with delicious snacks for my work day the next day. Sweetheart, thank you for the bacon. I love you.
+ I missed out on showering my boyfriend with kisses and love, as I really had missed him for the 2 days we were apart.
+ I missed out on seriously praising and honestly thanking and appreciating this superman of a boyfriend for bathing the dog, cleaning the house, grocery shopping and finishing the laundry. All of this for my arrival home. Come on, self.
You see where I am going here? I missed out on an epic life moment because I was too busy complaining about yesterday’s nothings.
Raise your hand if this feels somewhat oddly familiar?
How many times have we been so wrapped up in a petty yesterday’s nothing to miss what is happening right here and now?
We have choice. We have the choice to get over it and see others. See others beyond our own misconstrued moments of me, me, me.
Choose wisely, my friends. Never too late to say thank you, I love you, I see you.
I’m talking to you, Mister.