Monthly Archives: January 2014

Movement.

Path.jpgEarly this morning, I looked at my calendar after awaking from a restless sleep. After months of living at or near limbo, I am ready to make as much of a decision as I am able to make in my current situation.

The decision that I have become fixated upon involves taking a leap that I have dreamed of making for years but haven’t dared take—leaving Portland.

20140123-215031.jpgI have fallen for this city. In these past five years in Portland and the surrounding areas, I have explored my mind, body, heart, and soul. I have made friends with waterfalls, blown kisses to the ocean as the water gently caresses the shore, watched the appearance and progression of wildflowers signifying the arrival of Spring, chased rainbows and the rare thunderstorm, spent months buried in books, and fell in love for the first and second times.

Life in Portland has been good to me. Though I often complain mostly about rain, bearded men, and cigarettes, I enjoy what the city has to offer and the minimal amount of effort it takes to live here. I love that I live equidistant from a specialty market and my favorite yoga studio, and only a mile from a(n inactive?) volcano. I enjoy that I can get away with never changing out of yoga pants, and that I rarely have to explain my eating habits when I share a meal. Life in Portland is easy. It’s been great and has stolen more than a piece of me.

Wildflowers_Mt. Hood.jpgI am a creature that loves beauty and exploration. I thrive on change and often find myself craving movement. I haven’t yet left Portland because of its comforts and its ability to make time evaporate. I also can’t get away from the city’s proximity to the easily-accessible and jaw-dropping beauty of the Pacific Northwest. I willingly (with some moments of hesitation) gave my early twenties to Portland, but, as I progress into another phase, I now feel that I am ready for change.

As I looked at my calendar this morning, I counted how much time I likely have left here in Portland, and I picked a date.

March 31. 66 days.

Cactus.jpg

I then thought longingly about the lonely drive from Portland, Oregon to Sedona, Arizona—It will be pretty come Spring…

And I then started looking at plane tickets, made some calculations, and explored the fine lines between dreams and my early morning consciousness…

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2013: Reflections

Two-Thousand-Fourteen.

Twenty-Thirteen has come and gone in what feels like less than a moment. This time last year, I was lonely in Coimbatore but living passionately. It was perfect. I was shadowing at the wonderful Womens Center and running almost daily (in an attempt to ease heartache and train for my first and so-far-only race—the Coimbatore Rock n’ Run Marathon—where I ran a rocky and dusty 10 km and got fairly drunk for breakfast immediately following its completion).

What a life I have lived.

Dancing in a Cambodian Wedding Train

Dancing in a Cambodian Wedding Train

Asia was just fantastic and I have been recovering from the high since my April return (really in recovery since May, as the high lasted for at least couple of weeks). Travel really is a drug—I find myself reaching and plateauing at these sensational peaks—constantly in love with everything, everyone, and my own serendipitous and glorious existence. And the come down, the come down…It has lasted much longer than any hangover and leaves me longing for the constant engagement and stimulation that travel provides…

My return was difficult. It has been difficult. I moved into a transitional state (where I still linger) and I am someone who dislikes states of prolonged uncertainty (yet somehow, I am still in love with life and all its complexities just the same). My six months of unemployment were a lesson in humility, as my hopes and ego were shattered on a daily basis with silent rejections (I have since found a wonderful job that has proven to be a near-perfect fit for my brief stint in limbo). And then there was the reemergence of more-than-one heartache that I thought that I had left behind, somewhere in the bowels of Asia…

looking up

On top of a mountain, looking up…

To the hum of this ambient whine, and most important to me as a person, was the task of applying, interviewing, wait-listing, and then finally being accepted into medical school. This endeavor has been with me constantly for at least the past year—even entering my mind while spacing out in the produce section of New Seasons Market—and has been the topic of hours upon hours of conversation. It has been a source of great stress and has tested my patience. Now that I have finally been accepted into a school where I feel that I will be quite happy, I breath. I have worked so hard for these things that matter most and everything is finally falling into place, like they often seem to do…

Twenty-thirteen has been a year of lessons. I was reminded that life is full of peaks and valleys, gives and takes, moments of delightful ease followed by months of challenge, that I will get through whatever is thrust before me, and still come out grateful for both sides of the experience.

[Change is inevitable and, as wonderful as it would be, life has no pause option (and I am thankful that just this past year has given me a plethora of pause-worthy experiences, so many that I couldn’t even begin to choose where to bask in the sun—or snow—for eternity)]

But I am ready for change and have been asking and working hard for more movement, wherever it takes me. Once again, I am incredibly thankful for the experiences that have allowed me to learn, love, and grow. I will continue to use these valuable tools to fine-tune my life.

May twenty-fourteen be stimulating, engaging, and full. May twenty-fourteen be exactly what we need.

pools