Success

I often wonder about the complexities of human interaction…the fact that there are 100,000 words in the English language, 5,000 of those have double meaning. There is an estimated 750,000 symbols within body language. Research out of UCLA suggests that only 7% of our communication comes from the words that we say. Body language accounts for 38%, and the remaining 55% belongs to tone.

What we connect with most is in tone, the way it comes though a warm body. This is presence.

I hear people talking about this all the time. “That woman has presence.” Or, “That man really knows how to get attention in a room.” I see it in my friends. The ones who turn heads, who make people think deeply. Presence is tied to connection, and I believe that connections – and community – are tied to success.

It takes years and years, and important life moments, and hard changes, to really get down to the core of who you are. In our younger years we are anxiously unsure of our bodies, our minds, our emotions- for good reason.

It is our adult responsibility to give ourselves those life moments, those deep relationships, those moments of regret, those heartbreaking loses. In these moments we will meet ourselves, in knowing that person we will become sure of what we want.

I know what I want.

It is my mission to provide quality care to the people I encounter every day…To use my voice. To listen deeply. The pursuit of this is my definition of success.

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Bazaar

I am sitting at my favorite neighborhood cafe, Cafe Bazaar. Its a cafe filled with people of strikingly different appearances but mostly its filled with men of a certain age hunched over their archaic computers or squinting their eyes towards MacBooks.

I love it here, away from the lingering eyes of the 20-somethings. Away from the calculating glare of the 30-crowd. I feel much more relaxed here in my day old makeup and lint-covered yoga pants. Sipping coffee, too caught up in the people watching gold mine I have walked into.

I came to read a heartbreaking memoir about depression. Its sitting next to me as I watch an old man who is glaring very seriously at a computer screen. As I ease drop on the pair of folks sitting right in front of me, I laugh at myself.

The man, dressed in what I like to call a jean-suit (jean pants, button up jean shirt, and even a jean jacket to match), sits quietly waiting for his coffee-companion to arrive. I like when people dress like this- it tells me something about them. For the record, if I ever catch you wearing jean on jean on jean, expect to be psychoanalyzed.

The women comes in frazzled. Her louis vuitton swinging at her hip. She is dressed impeccably in a white pencil skirt and red patent heels. The annoyance they felt towards one another was too apparent, I am sure the whole building can feel it. I nestle in for a good show.

They begin to talk and its clear that they are colleges, teachers of some sort. She begins by addressing the need for more home schooling- how it is the only way children can get a proper education now-a-days. He is firmly against this move. He argues that the more teachers a child can be exposed to, the more views and ways of thinking the child use as he or she navigates the world.

It is clear to me that I sat in this particular spot on this particular morning for a reason. Not only to take an adorable photo of the man next to me, but also to learn something about our evolving school system.

I am forever a student. The reason why I have an insatiable appetite for knowledge is because many teachers had an influence on how I think, how I question things. I took a piece from each, I let go of what didn’t resonate with me, and I cultivated my own way of being in the world. I am not saying that home school is inherently bad. But I do agree that the more people and environments we explore and expose ourselves to, the more we become connected to ourselves, making meaning out of our experience.

Not all children do this in the same way, however. Which is where our public school systems may be failing. It is my hope that we can further our development for different learning styles and better understand the evolving personalities of our world.

Cris de Coeur

I believe in courage,
will and intrepidity – fearlessness in the face of non-being.

Derived from coeur meaning heart,
courage is derived from love.

A pull that tells me;
“where you are headed you have been before.”
First only a shadow,

dreams, being the unexamined life you choose to experience (but I’m not the only one)
but what a world I can dream!

And on a Sunday
love can just be there
with no hurry
no worry
no rush.

That’s why you’ll always be my favorite thing
on a Sunday afternoon.

Finding Neverland

Reflections

San Francisco is my hearts home.
When I feel the pulse of the city build, it makes my heart race. When I feel the city abuzz with nightlife, with passion, with creativity, it makes me want to buzz right along with it. I have been living here for three months and I have seen some unbelievable things; some unbelievable in a beautiful sense, and some unbelievable in an experience sense.

When I walk along the cliffs of Lands End my awareness becomes expansive. I have not passed by one un-happy person on my hikes along this trail. Even the most unruly of children calm and take in the beautiful smells, the breathtaking view of Golden Gate, and the energy that lives here. It is a mere 10 blocks from my front door. This energy is similar in places such as Baker Beach, China Beach, and the Marin Headlands. I have spent a lot of time walking, thinking, and breathing deeper.

 
My rooftop was a truly unexpected gift (Thank You SF). When I first took a look at the concrete slab I sleep under every day, I was amazed. When the opportunity to have a gathering up on the roof came up, I thought it couldn’t be more perfect a pairing than my favorite people and the 75th anniversary of the Golden Gate Bridge fireworks. This is what you would call an epic life moment. No understatement there.

 
I have had a few smaller gatherings on my roof since then, and they have been nothing short of blissful. That’s my favorite VIP lounge in the city.
It’s no secret that music has been rocking my world since I moved here. It is another world, how I feel when I am in the presence of good, loud music. My year has been full of this transcendant feeling thanks to San Francisco. In April I had an unforgettable experience at Coachella, with a dear friend. Its as reliable as addition : how good it feels to be with a loved one + transcendence music = Lift.

 
If I do one day become a therapist, I will be handing out prescriptions for live music.

 
I love the HBO show Girls, for many of the same reasons many of you might enjoy Girls. It reminds us of a lifestyle none of us can maintain, but all of us dream of having. One where you have enough time in the day to gossip with your girlfriends, work a full time job (or a few part-times) and have the energy and ((money)) to go out at night and get wasted. But what I appreciate the most about this show is that it plays up a few characters that we all know, and love. And sometimes hate. I laugh the deepest laugh while watching Girls, when Hannah does something I can absolutely see one of my dearest friends doing. Or when Shoshanna moments make me cringe at the thought of replicating any of her behavior…yikes. It’s hilarious. I gained my biggest appreciation for this show while out at The Lion’s Pub. It was one of those I-don’t-have-any-money-so-I-shouldn’t-be-going-out nights, so naturally, we drank 2 bottles of 2buck before heading out. Needless to say, upon entering the bar, I wasn’t in perfect form to catch or acknowledge the pixie-cut blondie standing at the bar door naked from the waist down. Not only does my booze-buzzed friend ask her if she is ok, she removes her own tights so that the pix can continue her very unique night with pants on. I have never felt more confident in my choice of play-mates.

 
While adventuring for hangover bagels the next morning, we all indulged in belly laughs for at least thirty minutes straight… Were we living out a Girls episode? Touche, San Francisco.