HOME GROWN TOMATOES-WHY NO-THING REALLY MATTERS

Somewhere between Central, PA and Pocahontas County, WV

There is something about hitting your mid-30's. Specially when you have accomplished a lot in your time. You start to really assess how you are spending your time. I now care more about how happy I have spent my time than I am about how productive I have been. For a while I thought this was a sign of growth, I had matured, and because of that I was probably not going to be maturing more anytime soon. My next lesson I believed was scheduled to be learned in my early 40's.

However, I went on a trip to Pocahontas County, WV. I stayed in a very small town with a population of just over one thousand. The nearest movie theater was about 45 miles away and there were very few shops or things to do. I wanted this as I needed a respite from my hectic life and have learned to cherish solitude. I was looking for peace. Alas, I ended up finding something else.

I ended up entertaining myself hiking and taking a closer look at nature. I found waterfalls and burly bearded men that became very shy in the presence of a woman. I enjoyed gorgeous Allegheny vistas and learned how to walk softly on this earth. After being refreshed, I returned home.

I arrived home in time to run personal errands. There were a few things I needed to buy and had been putting off for a while now, so I went to get them. Something happened. All of a sudden nothing mattered. Nothing as in NO-Thing mattered. I became keenly aware that even if I had the perfectly themed living room, I would not be any happier than I already was. I realized that even if I had better clothes, I still wouldn't feel as good about my body as I felt in that moment...seriously, nothing like going on a few serious hikes to feel very proud of your body. The truth is that when you are in a place where enjoyment can only be derived by being contented with yourself, you learn that you don't need any THING or any ONE Person to be happy. You either are happy or you're not, and in the end, it really is all up to you.

So I am thankful to my 30's and to Pocahontas County, WV for allowing me to grow some more. I said GROW, not AGE.

Comments

THOUGHTS ON MOTHERS, FASHION AND BODY IMAGE

It wasn't until I was 13 years old that I learned I was fat. That was the year I moved to the United States and began to have a difficult time finding clothes that fit appropriately. I never really thought about that change until much later when I would look back on childhood photos and was surprised by how well my clothes fit, and how well-dressed I mostly was. As someone who is very fashionably challenged, I was surprised that at some point in time, I knew how to dress well...and I seemed to have lost the skill once I had many clothing options. When did I lose that skill? I began to explore that phenomena and quickly came to an odd realization. In the U.S. I clearly always had more clothing options that I ever did in Venezuela. Ready-made clothes in the U.S. were affordable so everyone could buy them. That was the key, in Venezuela, ready-made clothes were very expensive, so not too many people purchased them. In fact, I don't remember my mom buying anything ready-mad...

I CAN'T PASS JUDGMENT ANYMORE

I know all of my friends are loving the ease and convenience of carrying books around on a Kindle, or whatever the gadget of the day is, but this move to electronic reading is really affecting my ability to judge others, yes, you heard me right-judging others is now difficult. It used to be that I could sit on the train and just by watching book covers, and their respective readers, I would get an idea of what books I might like. Now, everyone has a kindle and I can't really derive reading recommendations without appearing to be a stalker. But worse than that, new friendships are severely affected. I used to be able to walk into someone's house and look at their bookcase and know whether I should run the other way-now, the non-visibility of books makes identifying incompatibility so much more difficult. For example, if someone were to walk into my house, this is what they might see: You would be correct in making quite a few assumptions about me based on this ...

MOTHERHOOD: A SITE OF VICIOUS NEGOTIATION

I woke up this morning to a baby puking on me while smiling unapologetically. For the first time her lack of inhibition worried me. This Mother's Day, I thought I'd be reflecting on being a mother for the first time and jot down some mushy words, instead, I think back to the day I walked in on my mom having greater aspirations for my daughter than she did for me. My dad raised me to thrive in the world I deserved, my mom raised me to survive in the world I was born into. Needles to say, my dad's parenting was liberating and empowering, my mom's was stifling and suffocating, so of the two parents I always rebelled against HER. She would often say that I was created fighting her given how difficult her pregnancy was with me. She was right, my earliest memories with my mom are of our arguments. We fought like the swords of two warriors: I was driven by a desire to be free and capable, her by fear that I might suffer consequences the patriarchy metes out to misbehaving wo...

MODERN IFIGENIA

Search This Blog