One Hundred Happy Days- Day Five

Day 5- Food

A lot of my favorite memories center around a good meal. I'm sitting at the table as a child, pretending my broccoli are small trees and I'm a vegetarian giant that feasts on them. I'm making a Mc.Donald's or Chinese food stop as a middle schooler, feeling cool with my pocket change and a small order of fries. Getting a slice at the nearby pizzeria as a teenager, walking to the bus stop with my friends as I'm eating the gooey mozzarella.  Or as an adult I'm sitting in a restaurant with a good friend or multiple friends or my sisters, enjoying a delicious meal while laughing and talking and joking around. Or I'm exploring New York City and I come across a food truck that I feel bold enough to try. The result is pure bliss. I can honestly say that trying new foods is always a fun adventure. Sharing that adventure with family and friends make it even better. Sometimes I can just think of the food and smile. Granted I realize that the meal itself is only secondary to the positive experience I've had while eating it but it's a quick way to remember good times. It's also a way for me to remember how lucky I am, to have a childhood and adulthood filled with filling mealtimes. 

The amount of people in my city that go without a good meal is a truly sad reality. The amount of children that go hungry everyday is a fact that should never be. I'm so happy for the abundance of food in my house. I'm happy that I know if I'm hungry there's a meal always ready that I can get. Let's make this a reality for the less fortunate, for the elderly and for children. 

Here are some helpful resources:

wwwfeedingamerica.org

www.foodbanknyc.org

 

One Hundred Happy Days- Day Seven

Day Seven- The Ringing of Church Bells

I was waiting on a late bus earlier this night and standing out in the cold. My fingers were freezing and I was holding bags of groceries so I wasn't in the greatest of moods. As the minutes wore on, I became more annoyed. If I were wearing a mood ring it would be dark purple. I wanted to get home and drink some tea. I wanted to take a hot shower and relax. I sighed in frustration. Just then, I heard a beautiful sound. It was the melody of bells ringing. The sound was crystal clear in the night air. For a moment, I forgot about my frustrations for a moment. I listened to the music and turned to the sound. Across the street, a little church stood. The bells were coming from there. I tried to identify the songs but I couldn't. All I know is that it sounded so lovely and I couldn't help but smile. The chiming ended and the night was filled with the sounds of cars whizzing by once more. When the bus finally came, about five minutes later, I realized I wasn't frustrated anymore. I felt grateful for that little reprieve. It brought me a much needed moment of happiness. 

One Hundred Happy Days- Day Six

Day Six- Poetry

I remember middle school being a rush of classes and cliques, bullies and boredom. I remember it being a place where I felt I didn't fit in. I was quiet and smart (at least in my opinion). I read books not assigned by a teacher and listened to music that varied from standard Hip Hop and R&B. In other words, I was a weirdo. A weirdo with no voice. I discovered poetry in 7th grade English class. We were reading the words of Robert Frost. The poem was, "Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening". I felt the simple beauty of his words. I saw the imagery of snow falling gracefully in the woods. The quiet peace settling as night drew on was a powerful image for me. I loved it. I wanted more. 

Soon I began to read other poets. Langston Hughes and his beautiful, thoughtful pieces moved me. Edgar Allen Poe's dark words were perfect on a stormy night. Countee Cullen brought out the pain and beauty of being Black. Maya Angelou showed me how phenomenal it was to be a woman. Emily Dickinson's words stirred a gentle sadness and hope within me. Nikki Giovanni's poetry was pure unapologetic, power. And then I discovered Pablo Neruda and I knew I would forever fall into his words. Along this journey I had been writing my own words. I let my insecurities and loneliness go, choosing to allow it to fill the pages instead of my heart. I had found an outlet for all that I had been feeling. My words had strength. I'd read my poetry back to myself and see the image of a person I never knew existed. It amazed me, all the things I had been keeping inside. It was painful. It was fragile. It was beautiful. And somehow, all of that was me. 

To this day, when I read the poems I have written, I always feel this sense of surreality. This is me. And I am proud of that. No matter what emotion spurred my poetry, I always see beauty in it. That realization makes me incredibly happy. 

The image at the top of this blog post is a short poem I wrote called simply, "Night". It's one of my favorites. 

One Hundred Happy Days- Day Four

Walking on the Winter Beach

Yesterday I walked along Far Rockawy Beach before work. I was searching for peace and a quiet place to think. During this time of year there barely any people walking on the beach. Those that I happened to see here, were lost in thoughts of their own or hypnotized by the view. 

The ocean was a dark, turbulent wash of gray and green. Waves clung to the edges of the shore, blanketing in foaming blankets of white. The sky above was the color of steel. Everything was quiet. Silence settled upon me. It was the kind that made everything become still; the kind that eased the worries of the heart, lifting it then letting it sink to the bottom of the ocean's impenetrable depths. The kind that also allowed those worries to float away into the horizon. The silence resembled a kind of hope. We push our wishes into the unknown, praying that whatever comes brings us joy and blessings. We take those hopes and let them go, allowing them to sink or float. 

I watched the water and thought of my father. I remembered his silhouette by the shore at Coney Island as my little sister and I collected shells to paint. I asked his memory, "are there oceans where you are? Do you swim?" Looking at a piece of sea foam shatter in the air, I thought, "do you fly?" I let the silence cover me. I let my hopes float along the horizon and my tears fall until they became too cold to permit and I wiped them away. I watched the sea. A lone surfer braved the waves, his bright blue board a bright contrast to the mute day. 

I walked along the empty Boardwalk and felt lifted. Seagulls rose in the air above me, gliding and swooping with the currents of the wind. A flock of pigeons joined their flight, weaving past the seagulls.  Wings filled the sky.  My heart soared with them. I felt weightless. I felt lifted. I felt happy. 

Day 2 and 3 of One Hundred Happy Days

Tea and Marsha 

When life gets a little too hectic for me I tend to resort to my usual comforts. A good book. A cozy bed. Music. Or in many instances, tea. Tea for me is a source of calm and happiness. It allows me to slow down for a moment and just enjoy the simple pleasure of drinking my favorite beverage. It's not a get up and go drink. It's a sit down and relax drink. It's a clear your mind drink. I love it. 

I remember as a kid, drinking tea in the morning. The routine was pretty consistent, no matter what I had for breakfast. It brings back memories of the way my father used to make my tea (milk and sugar, not too hot, not too cold). It brings back memories of my mom and sisters and brother. The smell of plantains frying and eggs scrambling. Dumplings with syrup and the promise of Saturday morning cartoons. It reminds me of a time in my life when I didn't have to worry about anything other than my homework. So it's only natural that I choose tea for day two of my 100 happy days challenge. 

Sunday, a good friend of mine celebrated her 29th birthday and I was lucky enough to share in the experience with her. Marsha and I have known each other since high school and ever since then we have remained good friends. Even when we were focused on separate paths in our lives, when we met up it felt as if nothing had changed. I truly believe that is what friendship is about. It's about being at such a level of comfort with someone that no matter how infrequently you may talk to each other or how far you live from one another, when you get together, you pick up where you left off. I'm truly blessed to have this wonderful woman as a friend. We celebrated her birthday with a lovely brunch followed by karaoke. I painted her a picture of the Eiffel Tower. I love this girl! 

One Hundred Days of Happiness

I want to be happy. That is the biggest desire in my life, to reach a place where in my existence where I can live In happiness. It feels like a hard goal to reach. So many things threaten to break my smile or darken my days. So many things leave me stressed and agitated and worried. At times it feels like I don't have the space in my world to be happy. Life takes over and the chaos can making living from day to day less about joy and more about survival. But even as I succumb to the routine of waking up, going to work and going to sleep, the thought of happiness still lingers in my mind. I subconsciously search for it, taking little moments of pleasure and trying to make it last for as long as it can. 

Recently, while searching the web I came across the hashtag #100happydays and I wanted to know the meaning behind it. I googled it and a website came up, 100happydays.com which explained that this was a personal challenge. This isn't a contest or some way to show off. It's you, showing gratitude for the things that bring you joy in your life and acknowledging that for 100 days. You do this by sharing a picture each day of something you are happy for. This challenge is supposed to help us find it easier to see the positives in our everyday stressful and chaotic lives. It's about making a conscious effort to find happiness and becoming aware of it. Even though I'm doing this on Instagram (search loloroxxx) I've decided to go into detail about my image choices on my blog and the reason it makes me happy. 

Day one: a note. 

First off I want to say that my older siblings have some amazing children. They are smart and sweet and beautiful and caring and I love them dearly. I don't see them nearly enough. This note was written when I went to visit my sister in Pennsylvania. My trips to PA are always a source of joy for me. I love seeing my nieces and nephew as they go through various stages in their lives, transforming from short, crawling cherubs that are quick to smile and hug me, to tall gorgeous individuals with interests and personalities unique to them. My sister's oldest child, a young girl who shares my love of books and writing wrote this for me because I wrote her an encouraging note. I wanted her to know that I believe in her and that I want her to never stop being herself. 

She handed the letter to me before I left and I hugged her and read it on the way back home and felt a warmth in my heart. Months passed by and I forgot about the note, replacing it instead with the thoughts of work. Then one day when cleaning out my bookcase I discovered in one of my favorite books (The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon) my niece's kind words. Her words were so simple. She had a great time with me and wanted me to come back soon. Already she missed me. That is the first thing I thought of today, when musing about what makes me happy. A thoughtful note from a loved one can shine some light on such a dreary day. It could make a bad day much better. It could remind us that we matter in the world and that our existence is not overlooked. This is exactly what my niece's note did for me. It reminded me that I am loved and thought of. That's definitely sometching to be happy about.

 

Transcendental Meditation

I want to focus more on my well-being. Most days I feel like a carpet constantly being stepped on, my fringes faded and tattered. I feel like a shadow of myself. I've been getting angered much more easily lately. My patience has been wearing thin. Usually my patience is what I admire most about myself. My ability to deal with frustrating things in a calm manner made me proud. But now, I can barely deal with the bus arriving five minutes late without feeling so stressed and angry that I develop a headache.

I realize that I can't be happy when my emotions are so out of whack and my fuse is so short. I realize that I can't be a better person if I'm on the verge of snapping at someone who cuts in front of me on a line or if I glare at a person trying to make smalltalk with me. That's not who I am. So it felt like a sign when I opened the newspaper one day and read a short article about Transcendental Meditation. Apparently Jerry Seinfeld does it.

I was intrigued. 

It seems easy enough to do, dedicate twenty minutes of my time twice a day to sitting with my eyes closed. And it could help with my insomnia and stress.  I feel like it wouldn't hurt to try it. So I will. Perhaps it will help me find a clearer path to a happier, personal state. Perhaps it will help me reclaim my joy, my peace. At the least it will provide me with twenty minutes of quiet. I'd like that very much.

A Place in the World

I feel like I'm losing my place in the world. Which isn't saying much because my place is filled in very lightly. I step into my path with such trepidation I barely leave a footprint. Some call this cowardice. I call it caution. I want to be able to retreat softly, just incase the footprint is too big and something I will never be able to fill. I don't want to fail. And so trying just becomes another struggle.

I would love to feel like a pioneer. I'd love to push past the terror of the impending future and just do it. Do...something. Leave my mark, no matter the size. I'd love to look back on my place in the world when I am old and wrinkled and of no real use to anyone and say to my grandchildren who are filled with the energy of youth that I did something back then. They'd roll their eyes and nod and pretend to care but it wouldn't matter to me. I'd be able to look back at that point in my life when I didn't just settle for whatever rolled my way and I pushed forward, even though I was so scared my heart felt like it would burst.

But right now I'm off balance. One foot is right on the line that will lead me to...I don't know. But the other foot is holding back. Too afraid to step forward. Too fearful of the fall that may be waiting on the other side.

And yet...I feel like I want to fall. Somehow I'm hopeful that if I do, I'll find wings on my back, ready to help me soar. And maybe it's not that I'm losing my place in the world, but I'm shifting from one place to another, finding a spot that is unique to me. I don't know. I hope so.

Anyway. I've been painting a lot and thinking about images in my mind that I'd like to paint. There's cages and feathers and flight and falling and shattering in my vision. It feels much like what I'm going through, only in a different medium. There are words in my head that seek a page to be written on and I'll oblige it because I'm so damn tired of worrying about whether the words are good enough in the first place. It's a cycle that I need to break, this constant worrying and stalling and worrying some more. It's a dance that I don't enjoy, one that never keeps its rhythm, only hiccups and coughs and falters along the way. For a moment at least, I'd like to not give a damn about my worth and just do the things I enjoy, regardless of criticism.

I want to plant my feet in the path of my choice and watch as I bloom. Two feet on the line. Ready to fall or soar.

Dreaming Hours

There are certain times of the day that are meant for dreaming. Late at night is one of those times. That's when the world sleeps and your body is able to settle and your mind is allowed to drift. That's when all the thoughts that you are afraid to acknowledge at work or school or with friends comes drifting out and your finally able to decipher them.

Another time is right at daybreak, before noise pollutes the world and the air is still fresh and slightly chilled. This is when the sky is a ribbon of orange and blue and red and eyes are just beginning to open.

Those are my favorite times. It's when I feel most like myself. There's no one to speak to yet, no smiles to give or words to exchange or errands to run. Those times are simply for me. And I bask in the selfishness it provides me.  Maybe that's why I find it so hard to sleep. I'm waiting for that moment at night to finally cast off my shell and stretch and breathe. I don't want to miss it, so I forego sleep and pay the price in the morning as a groggily head to work.

Sometimes I wish things weren't so mundane. Sometimes I wish it wasn't always the monotonous rhythm of waking up, working, going home, sleeping and repeat. But There's stability in those actions that I crave because stability is safety in my eyes. Still, there are times I wonder what it would be like to get up every morning and experience something new. I new city, a new neighborhood, a new food. Something that wakes up the mind from the dull routine. Something that opens the eyes.

I often think of about what it would feel like to fall asleep in my home and wake up in a room situated in the Caribbean or the Greek Islands or something so unlike the things I'm used to. I would watch the sun rise and wake up this strange part of the world. I would eat foods that are nothing like the foods I eat at home. I would listen to the language and feel giddy from all the culture surrounding me.

I spend a lot of my dreaming hours thinking those thoughts about traveling and seeing the world. I think that's a sign that my mind and body craves something different, something that can only be found with a plane ticket and the name of a different country on it. But mainly I think about the things I would see, the images that will write itself into my mind. The stories I'd create.

And then I look at the time and realize that I need to get some sleep. And with my eyes closed I'd dream of things I barely remember in the morning.

Night.

Night holds me still, like a mother whose arms reach all they way to the sky, to the stars and beyond. Its lullaby is a cascade of silence, broken by the rippling of sheets or the rustle of branches. My thoughts are frantic, harried and loud from the chaos of the morning. They come to me in sparks, igniting and receding. Igniting and receding. But the night is a mother who has long since figured out the ways of her child, and she soothes me as my thoughts dim and I drift away....

Weekend Getaway: The Adirondacks and Vermont. Part 2

"The Clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness."

-John Muir

Recently I went to visit a good friend who lives in the Adirondacks. After seeing her last year, I longed for another peaceful vacation like that one. This year, the experience left me feeling as if I've entered into the heart of the world, where water rages endlessly and sound is only the constant movement of rivers against rocks. It felt almost primal, like I had entered into a time when people were not the owners of this earth, but the mountains and the sky and the dark bottomless depths of the ocean were. I felt completely out of my element. There was no concrete here. No skyscrapers trying to rip the sky. No taxis or food trucks. There was just nature. And it was beautiful.

The day started off cool, quiet and a little damp from the rain the night before. We ate breakfast at a local diner and then set off to the Ausable Chasm. I was afraid that it would rain on us and ruin the hike, but luckily that didn’t happen. Instead, we were greeted with a warm, kind of cloudy day. Before going into the Ausable Chasm you must pay for a ticket to one of their many attractions. I know it sounds very touristy and perhaps it is, but once in the actual place, nature made up for the gift shop.

The sound of water rushing is everywhere. That’s because there’s a really lovely and rather powerful waterfall that tumbles into the Ausable river and runs through the Chasm. It’s called Rainbow Falls.

Beautiful right? I know! This is called The Rainbow Falls.

All this water just gush seeming out of oblivion and into oblivion scared me but I couldn't look away. It was pretty mesmerizing. 

The Ausable Chasm is America's oldest natural attraction which I found to be pretty cool knowledge about this beautiful area. The Sandstone formations here were so magnificent. As I navigated my way through walls of rock that has been here longer than I could ever imagine, I felt like some pioneer discovering a new land. It definitely brought out the adventurer in me. And my fear of heights. Heh.  The rock formations were beautiful to look at! Check out the one below. Can you guess what it looks like?

(Hint: It's an animal.)

That one is called Elephant's Head. For obvious reasons. I couldn't stop staring at this. It really does look like it! 

And then there were the many views of the Ausable River. Each vantage point that I viewed this river  from made me stop and admire just how wondrous nature really is. We were climbing along the stones with little ledges that became thinner and thinner the more we climbed. The sound of the water crashing along the rocks below was almost hypnotic. I was definitely enamored with this place.

The valley of rocks looked jagged and ancient. The dark river running through it looked foreboding. It was definitely a different kind of experience for me as I made my way higher and higher. This was less a feeling of peace and more a feeling of awe. The way the chasm towered over me stopped me in my tracks many times in the course of this hike. As if by some unnamable impulse I had to look up and see the rocks above me. I had to look at the way they cut sharply against the gray sky.

We reached a point in our hike where we saw rafters. Carrie asked if I wanted to join in and I vehemently said no. I pictured myself falling off the raft and into the dark wet abyss. I can be quite melodramatic when it comes to water, since I can't swim. Lol. But I enjoyed watching people in the raft. They looked like they were having fun. Maybe one day I'll do it. Maybe. 

We ended our hike with a walk into the woods. I took pictures and breathed in the morning air and felt really wonderful.  This is just what I needed.  This is what I had been waiting for. To feel close to nature is to remember oneself, one's origins and essentially, that this is where we go back to; the earth and the dust and the green that will shroud us. I feel alive in a forest. I am aware of just how lucky I am to witness such simple and immeasurable beauty. This beauty is beyond me. And it is within me. I am a part of something living and powerful and complex and that is a moment of clarity that I cherish.

The hike ended up being only the first part of this great day. The second part would be a trip to Burlington, Vermont on the ferry. I've never really been to Vermont (Last year we walked across Lake Champlain to stand on the Vermont side but thats about as far as I got). This was going to be a really cool experience for me. We drove to the dock. The ferry had not arrived yet so Carrie and I walked along the secluded little beach. We picked out seashells threw little stones into the water. We saw a family gathering by the shore. They looked picture perfect.  We also saw kayakers braving the frigid waters.

When the ferry finally arrived we went onto the deck to watch the New York shore disappear and the Vermont close in. Vermont's Green Mountains were a pale blue against the cloudy sky. The water of Lake Champlain glistened a steely gray. I saw boats navigate the waters, gliding along the waves. A tiny lighthouse greeted us. Rain drops fell on us as we arrived in Burlington Vermont. 

The first thing I noticed about Burlington was how little it resembled what I thought it would look like in my mind. We had entered Church Street. There were trendy shops lining the streets, trendy hipsters shopping and smoking and laughing with their friends or their kids in tow. It felt so laid back. I had expected acres and acres upon meadows and farms. I had expected maple syrup stores to be everywhere (don't judge me!) Instead I realized that Jazz is a very big deal here (which is awesome). Outdoor dining is everywhere (even more awesome). And there was a Ben and Jerry's store close by (AWESOMEST!) I browsed through pretty shops, ate at Breugger's Bagels and giggled at the personal's section of their local newspaper (very bold, these Vermonters).  I applauded their incredibly clean streets and admired the work of a local artist in a small art gallery. I listened to people talk and realized that many of them were speaking French. It made me even more aware of just how close I was to Canada, specifically the city of Quebec. I also looked at a variety of statues (some informative, others just...weird), read some funny/witty signs and admired the creativity applied to everyday things. 

(seriously, this is a pretty clean street.)

When we finished our fun trip into Burlington, we returned on the ferry. We visited Carrie's old

hometown. She showed me the salmon ladder and waterfall. By this time is was nearing dark and the

already quiet area seemed absolutely deserted.  We decided to call it a night and looked for dinner. We devoured an upstate New York treat; a Michigan ( a red skin hotdog with chili and onions), and fries smothered with gravy and cheese. I've eaten a Michigan on my last trip to this part of New York but I have to say this one was the best by far. Maybe the fries did it lol. 

That night we watched Robin Williams in the beloved film, "Hook". We spoke about childhood and mortality and how there were so many things in the movie we never noticed before as children but as adults we appreciated. We painted and joked around and enjoyed each other's company. We went to sleep that night worn out from the day and excited about tomorrow. It would be my last morning in the Adirondacks and I felt sad to leave, but I knew that the tomorrow held another nice experience. 

Morning came with a chill. I woke up happy and sad at the same time. I didn't want to leave but I had to get back home. Carrie and I went to the local market and bought ourselves breakfast. We then headed to the Essex Ferry going to Charlotte (pronounced Shar-LOT), Vermont. The landscape on the way to the ferry was beautiful. Green grass and wildflowers were everywhere. Idyllic farmhouses dotted the expanse of farmland. Mountains lined the background as if they were painted there. Soon we were by the water. I could see the boats on the water. They looked so peaceful floating there. It made me wish I were on one of them, fishing or just watching the mountains. It seemed like the perfect way to spend the morning.

The weather by the water gave the air a slight chill. Clouds hovered over my friend and I and we were fearful that there'd be a storm. I remembered the blue skies blanketing us on my pervious year's trip to the area and felt a little sad. But then I got on the ferry and looked at the horizon. The clouds gave the landscape depth. It shadowed the world with character. Every now and again there would be a slit in the sky and sunshine would pour through. Pockets of blue sky would emerge vibrantly from within the gray covering. The mountains stretched along the horizon, some parts of it lit a bright green from the sunshine. It was perfect.

When we  finally reached Charlotte I saw immediately that this is the Vermont I had imagined. A quaint store called "The Old Brick Store" greeted us as we arrived in the town. On the side was a piece of artwork that I felt I would have seen in Burlington. As Carrie and I entered the store however, we realized the items here were not quaint at all, but rather gourmet and pricey. Organic produce and products lined shelves. Artwork hung on the walls. It was a mixture of historic and modern and I really liked the feel of the place. Plus they had really delicious soap there for sale. 

A red barn peeked out from over the green hills. I could see the Green Mountains in the distance, stretching off into forever. The street was empty save for the houses and trees lining it. Everything was quiet. I smiled at a cute cow mailbox and  then my friend and I headed off.

There was no way I was going to visit Vermont and NOT go to the Vermont Teddy Bear Factory! We went on the tour of the factory where we got to see all the cute little teddy bears and their costumes. It was fun. I loved looking around the shop at some of the bears and their outfits. Here are a few of my favorite ones. 

I love that this bear is so comfortable in his boxers lol.

(awwww!)

As a huge fan of The Walking Dead, this made me laugh.

You can't get more romantic than this!

I hope you enjoyed this post. I had a lot of fun hiking at the Ausable Chasm, visiting two very different parts of Vermont and enjoying the cuddly adorableness that is The Vermont Teddy Bear Factory. Until next time!