Melodious Percussion.

Something about the rainy weather does something odd to me, I've found. I don't know if it always existed or if it's been a more recent construct of this ridiculous life. Perhaps it always lingered, but I've only just noticed? I don't know what it does, but it turns me inside, into some kind of hypothetical, mental hermit. Thoughts I've not pondered in quite some time, or ever, suddenly take center stage in my cerebral jungle. I need a machete to often cut through the brush or to make a path to whatever lies at the other end.

On the surface, I'm very much the same as I always am. Years of hiding deeper thoughts, deeper fears, deeper everything has taught me well. I've been trained (by no one other than myself) to consistently contain two, distinct personalities: the introvert and the extrovert, the melancholy and the joyful, the emotional and apathetic, the little girl and the woman.

The introverted, melancholy, emotional little girl is withdrawn - she always meanders about my insides, but is happy in simply existing. She need not bring attention to herself often, only when she feels she needs attention to satiate her until the next outburst.

The extroverted, joyful albeit sometimes apathetic woman is the one people see the most often. She smiles as though nothing could possibly contain her. Her laughs know no decibel boundary; they escape from her mouth as though their very lives depended upon it. Her cheeks flush with wonder at the beautiful things that are always surrounding her. This can sometimes cause her to become apathetic to it all; but she puts on a good show. She always puts on a good show.

Today was a day for the little girl to come out and play for a little while. Not that I wanted her to, mind you, but like I said: there's something about the rain that does something weird. The first pitter-patters of rainfall call to the little girl like a siren to a sailor. She can't help but peek her head from above the hedges to see what else is there, what she can touch and turn to dust.

Impulsively, I decided to watch some of my arrival and christening video. It's odd. Obviously, I don't remember any of it as I was only seven months old when it was all taking place. Parts of me wishes I could remember what it was like from a first-person perspective. It almost makes me feel separated, detached from that part of my life - like someone else was living it and told me about it, but I was never given the actual experience of living through it. It's odd, indeed.

It was also odd to see relatives that are no longer around. Not in a bad way, of course. But I sometimes struggle to reconcile the past and the present. These people once existed. They once breathed the air I breathed. They once laughed the way I laugh, cried the way I cry, yelled the way I yell (perhaps in a different language), and loved the way I love. I'm thankful for the fact that my dad was pretty consistent in filming for these few days so that we've got some kind of digital proof of their existence, but it's weird to think that they're no longer around. Especially when seeing Mia, who my heart will always miss, and my Aunt Mary, who only recently passed away.

I wish I remembered my Aunt Mary more. I wish I visited with her more. I wish I spoke with her about her life. I wish I heard her stories and asked her questions. I wish I didn't become annoyed when Mia asked me to help her to bed late one night. I wish I had sat at the foot of her bed more often, telling her of the day's events. I wish I saved her Christmas cards and birthday cards - or at least remembered what I did with them. I wish I had been older while she was around so that I could have really appreciated her filthy, dirty, obscene humor properly. I wish I told her that I loved her more often. I wish I told my Aunt Mary that I loved her more often. I wish that I had told my Aunt Francis that I loved her the last time I saw her before she died.

I wish for a lot of things.

But I suppose sitting and wishing for things that can't be changed or altered is merely a waste of my time. It only makes the little girl more upset, ultimately. She cries harder when I think of things like these. She stomps her feet and throws her tantrums and refuses to budge. It really doesn't benefit anyone in the end.

I really need to stop wishing.

I need to start doing.

There's nothing stopping me from making sure I am as kind as I can possibly be. I can still be as compassionate as I can be, especially to those I dislike. I can tell people that I love them when I see them, and make sure they know it - and believe it. I can ask more questions about people's lives. I can sit with my parents and talk to them about what it was like growing up. I can listen to the stories that are always floating around me, the ones I will want to remember for the rest of my life.

I can, and more importantly must!, cherish every moment that I possibly have on this revolving earth in this fleeting, fleeting life.

I've learned from my past mistakes.

I really need to stop wishing.

I need to start doing.

- May (you live with purpose).

The 10 Spot

Inspired by J. Mraz's most recent blog post, I've decided to make a list of ten things I'm grateful for today. This is in addition to the small paragraph I've already written in my gratitude journal, but hey .. you can never have enough happiness or enough positive karma. I'm going to keep this going.

1. Sunshine. Sounds simplistic, but after somewhere around a month of constant gray, rain, and storms, I'm thankful for the radiant rays for however long I can soak them up. I am, of course, ignoring the fact that I'm stuck in an office for 8 hours a day.

2. Blue skies. See above. I'd almost forgotten how absolutely stunning the color is.

3. Having a job. Though I sometimes complain about being stuck in an office chair all day, sitting behind a desk, finding things to do online, I'm thankful to have this job. In an economic world where so many people are struggling to keep things afloat, I feel ridiculously unworthy of having a job that pays well and also has a window for me to gaze longingly outside at the sunshine. I also got to put up some pictures around my workspace. And a miniature Buddha!

4. The ability to read, walk, see, hear, smell, touch, breathe, eat, experience life. Kind of a long one, but I always forget how lucky I am to be able to do .. anything. I take advantage of my able body, all five of my senses that are still in good working order, the ability to breathe without a machine, everything. Such small things that really mean so much.

5. Discovering a new state of consciousness. In Yoga, there are four states (awake, sleeping, dreaming, and transcendental). Although awake is technically the furthest from being enlightened, I look at it as a positive. I feel as though I've been in the sleeping state for my entire life - lethargic, unmoved by beauty, callous, indifferent to the world and to myself. I've finally woken up and have been able to look at things through different eyes. I feel like I'm awake, truly awake, for the first time in my life. And now, it's time for me to start dreaming about the future and all of the wonderful, amazing things to come.

6. Finally finding peace and understanding with the universe. I don't know if this needs any explanation.

7. My new-found ability to not question the universe when things happen. Also inspired by J. Mraz, I'm taking a step back from the mortal need for control over the universe around me. I'm letting things happen the way they happen, and not questioning why. If someone does something nice for me, I'm not going to dig for reasons, or wonder if it was for their own gain rather than mine. I'm going to smile and thank them and take that peace with me and spread it to someone else. If something bad happens, I'm going to understand that the Universe has a reason for it. As the Dalai Lama says (who just celebrated his 74th birthday!), "I find hope in the darkest of days, and focus in the brightest. I do not judge the universe."

8. Having decided on a tattoo design and location. I've wanted a tattoo for seven years. SEVEN! I used to want the Gemini symbol, since I figured it wouldn't be changing any time soon. Then I wanted something to do with London, commemorating the fact that I found where my heart's always been and always wanted to be. That may be coming later, once I figure that design out, but I have never been more sure of a design and a location before in my life. I'm going to be getting the Om (Aum) symbol at the base of my neck, towards the middle of my back. The reason? The Vishuddha chakra, symbolizing creativity, turning negative situations into positives and lessons to be learned, and increasing communication. Also, for the deity who resides in the Vishuddha Chakra, Panchavaktra Shiva. He has five heads for each of the senses and in one of his hands, he's holding a drum that's perpetually beating, symbolizing the Om (Aum) sound -- balance between the world, its creatures, and people. Get it? It's all connected. And as with #7, I'm not questioning why it all suddenly made sense - I'm just accepting it and revelling in the fact that I finally understand.

9. Being alive! I end every entry in my gratitude journal with this. I take it from a quote from Buddha: "Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die; so, let us all be thankful."

10. Warmer weather. It means I can wear flowy skirts and dresses that always, always put me in happier moods! Not to mention that Serotonin! :D

I'd love to see what lists you come up with! Post them!



- May (you remember to be thankful for every breath).

Musings of a Bored Assistant

I've worked just about 3 full weeks, with the European interruption in between. I've gotten one pay check (score!). I've sent out about 500 emails, no exaggerations. I get to listen to Pandora all day, sing (quietly) along to songs I already know, and even do some chair-restricted dancing to "Shake It" from MetroStation.

All this aside, my mind still wanders.

And what does it wander to? Why, Europe, of course.

It was a week yesterday since I've returned to the US. A week since we all enjoyed a four-course meal consisting of salad (delicious), farfalle carbonara, a gigantic (in my case) slab of turkey with rosemary roasted potatoes, and tiramisu. A week since I bid farewell to the friends I'd made, separated by the different queues for the differing airlines in L. Da Vinci Airport. A week since I was caught amidst the Roman heat, wishing that I could take a dunk in the Fontana di Trevi or the fountain at La Piazza di Spagna. A week since I said goodbye to some of the best 16 days I've ever had.

And I'm trying not to be Debbie Downer/Negative Nancy about the whole thing. It's proving to be harder than I expected. But then again, I suppose I shouldn't be all that surprised considering the mood I found myself in after leaving London two years ago. It took a good year and a half to fully recover from 3 weeks of living there. God knows how long it will take for me to recover from this trip.

But. Okay. No more thinking along those lines. No more being upset about it.

Right. I need to get back into yoga. I haven't done it since I've gotten back, and my soul's feeling the repercussions. I did buy "The Zen Book," by Daniel Levin, though. I plan on reading through it whenever I feel the need for some positive inspiration. I also bought "Wreck This Journal," and plan to write in it as often as I possibly can. There's something missing in this online blog world - it's like the art of letter writing, just about extinct. I refuse to give it up. I'm going to keep writing letters and writing in journals! They'll never be obsolete or outdated.

Anyway .. back to the database and sending 500 more emails.

Is it the weekend yet?

- May (you find your inspiration).

It's Official.

I hate New England weather.

I should probably mention that I've hated it for a long time. Probably since I first step foot on the soils of the small Ocean State four years ago. I came ill-equipped to my first year of college: no rain boots, no rain coat, no umbrella. Sure, it rains in New York, but not like New England.

I smartened up my second year. I bought a pair of rain boots from Target.com and they have probably been one of the best investments I ever made. I now have a rain coat, too, after having needing one when I lived in London for a month.

But as I sit at my desk, the tips of my fingers nearly blue and frozen and falling off (okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating a little bit), with the roar of the wind and the rain crashing against the bricks outside of my apartment ... I realize how much I really do loathe the weather.

Yet.

I'm going to miss it in 12 days. I'll pack up all of my things and leave this room the way I entered it -- empty, without personality, without sheets on the bed or crap all over the floor (not literal crap, mind you), without the drawers full of clothes and things, without laughter and tears and memories. It'll hit me during the first rainstorm of the summer, back in New York. I'll pull out my boots and my rain coat and somehow ..

I'll feel incomplete.

And maybe, just maybe, a little, tiny piece of me will miss the freezing cold of a New England rainstorm in the beginning of May. Maybe a little piece of me will smile nostalgically as I think about how it can still get so cold, even when it's in the midst of Spring. Maybe a little piece of me will even miss hearing the roars over the Red Sox winning a -- you know what, no. That won't ever happen.

Sorry. I'm clearly getting delusional.

- May (you let go when you need to let go).

90 Degrees. In April.

Remember that time that I almost sweat my hypothetical balls off because Rhode Island experienced a freak heat wave in the middle of April?

Yeah, so do I.

The weather here has been cooky. Kooky? Hm. I'm never sure how to spell that word; not that I have to do it that often. But anyway, it's been weird. Over the past week, the temperature has shot up to the high 80's/low 90's, taking everyone by surprise. Some people flourish in this weather. Me? There's a reason I chose to attend a school in New England. I can handle 65 - 70 degrees. 75 is the max. Anything over that, and I'm wishing that indecent exposure wasn't a crime.

But it got me thinking. On a day like today, I can't help but think about how .. powerless we are. We like to think we're in control of every aspect of our lives: who we talk to, what we eat, what to wear, who to sleep with, whatever. But, at the end of the day, we're pushed out of the pilot's seat and told to enjoy the ride.

We can't control the weather, for instance. If I could, I would turn the temperature down just a notch. Okay, more like a lot of notches. But I can't. No one can. We just have to make do and adjust and keep on trucking. Because it's those random things that keep life interesting. Keep us on our toes.

I don't know about you, but I have really weak ankles and knees, meaning I will never be a ballerina. Staying on my toes constantly does wear down the joints, and eventually, my legs give out and I collapse to the ground.

But I've realized .. it's okay. It's okay to collapse and fall. It's okay to even want to stay down on the ground for a little while, to recooperate. It's okay to cry, to complain, to whine about it, to lay back and accept defeat for a little while. But not indefinitely.

Eventually, you get up. You curse your weak ankles and knees and you try again.

And if you find yourself in the middle of a heat wave, find yourself a fan and forget the ballet all together.

- May (you have fun during the proverbial dance).