{a photo project honoring radiance, one of my words for 2012 :: 52 photos that represent radiance, 52 photos that represent luminosity.}

i am starting to think that power and radiance might be a two year journey.

the other day, i looked in the mirror three or four times before i left the house. i felt pretty and it was such a novel feeling that i kept going back to it.

every once in a while, i will be in the midst of writing out postcards and cards for friends and it will occur to me that i am a good friend and i don’t know why i always think that i’m not.

the day before i left for spain, i organized my day in order to buy fresh bagels from panera and spent time trying to figure out how to pack everything so there would be room for them. i had asked my sister if she wanted me to bring her anything. later, it occurred to me to ask if her roommates wanted me to bring them anything as well; one of them wanted bagels. while i was driving around, i was wondering why i always think that i’m not a nice person, when buying bagels didn’t seem like something that a not-nice person would do.

many of the people i love are wonderful writers. every time i read a piece of their writing, whether it be a blog post or an email, i wish i could write like them. a while ago, i read through a bunch of my favorite posts because i was looking for one that i could repurpose for a project. as i was reading, i realized that i can write. what i mean by that is – when i really want to talk about something, i can usually find a way to express my thoughts and feelings in a way that feels good to me.

shortly after having one of these thoughts, another thought pops into my mind, which is, “wow, i am vain and egotistical and think highly of myself.”

i have decided that the reason positive thoughts feel so uncomfortable and wrong is because i am not used to them. after all, they are a new development. after all, i have years of believing the opposite. after all, i have years of being taught that it is bad to say nice things about yourself.

i think i want to practice more.

i think i also want to take the resulting “but this is wrong and bad and i am wrong and bad” less seriously. i am guessing it feels a lot worse in my head than it actually is. (sort of like how, if you’ve spent your life trying to please other people, giving your opinion on something small, like whether or not you liked a certain movie, feels really big and possibly relationship-ending.)

truth be told, i have a feeling that we could all probably stand to give ourselves a lot more credit than we do.

seen and heard from the front porch of barista in the pearl:

the balance of opposites (on a t-shirt)

“dude” (a man of business)

hunt & gather: treasures for the home & soul (a sign)

carton service (faded white paint letters on the side of a brick building)

“now means straightaway” (a small blond curly-haired girl in a pink tutu, said with a british accent)

the gadsby building 1906 (gold letters on a plaque)

a happy sigh (me, happily people & style-watching on a perfect afternoon)

i feel the urge to share a little about where i am these days, only in a perfectly imperfect fashion, so it’s possible this may seem more rambling than usual. i am just warning you in advance.

for the past many months, i’ve felt the occasional urge to apologize for neglecting my blog. i have managed to restrain myself. partly because blog writing and online time ebbs and flows, much like everything else in life, so change feels natural and inevitable and expected. partly because i am trying to break a bad habit of feeling like i need to apologize for pretty much everything. partly because i think the only person who thinks i am neglecting my blog is me, and that’s only because i have been blogging almost daily since 2007 so anything less than that feels like neglect. i like to blog when i feel inspired. i don’t want to turn it into a should.

i came home from spain feeling rather discombobulated and things have been shifting ever since. well, they were shifting before that – and have been for a long time – but it feels even deeper now.

i am in an interesting place for me. i feel very wordless. there are so many things i want to talk about – style, how beauty is a need, morocco and disappointment, finding my way to my own truth, books and reading and holding a vision, why i cried after buying a pair of paige jeans .. the list goes on and on. and yet i remain without words for any of it.

when i think about it, it makes sense that i am wordless. i am going through identity change and inner shifts at a faster and faster pace. right now, i am rewriting old stories – stories that say that i am worthless, that people don’t like me, that i don’t deserve friendship and love, that i am ugly on the outside and inside. i am learning that what i feel and need and want is important. i am learning that i can go after what i want and get it. i am learning to use my words in relationships. i am learning that people can be annoyed with me and it’s not the end of the friendship. i am learning to eat when i’m hungry. i am changing my patterns of punishing my body and myself for perceived flaws/failures. i am learning how to be vulnerable. i am learning to bear disappointment. i am learning how to not take things personally and how to not to see rejection where it doesn’t exist. i am learning that i am the expert on my own life. i am learning to take emotional risks. i am uncovering and shifting old stories that keep me from doing things i want to do. (goodness. i didn’t realize how much i was shifting until i wrote this and i didn’t even write all of it. clearly i don’t do anything half-heartedly.)

it makes sense that i am wordless. i don’t exactly know who i am from day to day. this is not to say that i am changing; it feels more like i am finding my way back home.

instead, i am refilling my well. i am spending time with friends and exploring portland and sitting in cafes and eating ice cream and hiking. i am making my current offerings even more congruent and working on new offerings related to stories. i have completely overhauled my wardrobe, am finding my way to my own style, had my first brow wax, bought makeup, and my hair is sun kissed again. (someday, i want to write about why this is important for me to focus on right now.) i am putting effort into the things i thought i would do or have someday. someday when i was finally successful enough or thin enough or whatever enough. someday when i was finally enough on the outside to make up for what i thought i wasn’t on the inside. someday when i was finally worthy of the things that i thought were reserved for other people – things like friendship and love and beauty.

it is an interesting, if unusual and unexpected, place to be.

no, i’m not in cuba. however, i would like to be.

i went to pambiche, a cuban restaurant in portland, with friends. the food was delicious – hence the reason i would like to visit cuba. i made everyone wait before eating dessert because i just had to take pictures of all of them. aren’t they pretty!

a friend and i spent a sunny saturday afternoon at the portland farmers’ market, eating lunch and people-watching and wandering around the booths. (if you happen to live in portland, you know this was not today, as evidenced by the rain falling on my window. it was last saturday, which was glorious.)

i was missing my camera – i do so love farmers’ market photos – but then i remembered that i had my iphone.

is that not the best dog sighting ever?! when his person saw that i was trying to take a picture of him, she turned him around so i could see his face. i cannot stop looking at him and smiling. (as a side note, i wonder why i assume the dog is a him. it seems like assuming he’s a her is a much better assumption.) i so wish i could show atlas this picture. i can just imagine his response.

{a photo project honoring radiance, one of my words for 2012 :: 52 photos that represent radiance, 52 photos that represent luminosity.}

i was feeling lonely one evening last weekend. i didn’t really know what to do with it – i am more of a day person than a night person – so i decided to send some mail to friends. unfortunately, i only had one stamp left and it was earmarked for a bill, so my mail didn’t go out until today’s visit to the post office.

as i was standing in line, it occurred to me that sending mail might be even more fun than receiving mail.

when i send mail, i get to show someone that i care about them, even if i don’t say so specifically.

when i send mail, i get to show someone that someone is thinking about them.

when i send mail, i get to imagine it showing up in their mailbox as an unexpected surprise.

there is something so very satisfying and comforting and heartwarming about the act of sending mail.

it reminds me that there are people in the world that i care about and that care about me. it makes me feel like they aren’t so very far away after all. it makes me feel less alone.

every once in a while i want to send mail to someone, but for some reason, i talk myself out of it. i realized that the reason i do this is because it feels too vulnerable. if i’m not sure how someone feels about me, it’s hard to let them know that i care, that i’m thinking about them. what if they don’t care about me and don’t want to hear from me and i am annoying them.

reaching out – letting people know you care about them – can be scary.

the thing i am trying to remember is that reaching out is important. vulnerability is important. it’s true, they might not feel the same way about me, but everyone likes to be remembered.

so yes, real mail. i am a fan.

that’s really why i make and sell cards. i mean, i like making cards – the act of making them and the act of pairing images and the act of finding names and descriptions for the sets. but mostly, i like thinking of people sending and receiving little bits of love, via their mailbox.

you don’t need anything special, you know. you can just find a piece of paper and write, “i’m thinking of you. just thought you should know.” and pop it into the mail.

but if you do like cards, i have an offer you might be interested in.

(i just finished this post and i am giggling because i cannot figure out how this relates to radiance. i thought it did when i started out but now i cannot see how, so i am wondering if i got confused along the way. it’s what was on my mind so we will pretend it does relate, yes?)

one of my favorite things in the world is to wander around neighborhoods. i like to look at the houses and try them on in my mind and think about how i’d decorate them if i lived there.

one of my favorite neighborhoods in portland is king’s heights, in the hills above the alphabet district. there are many houses that i adore; it is full of flowers; it is quite a ways uphill from one of my favorite coffee shops; and there are secret staircases that bring you up and up and up (or down and down and down).

there is a little yellow house for sale near the top of the hill that i like to imagine myself and atlas living in.

someday, i need to find a neighborhood walking companion who knows about flowers. it would be rather nice to know what i’m looking at.

a dear friend of mine moved to portland a while ago. i get to see her often, which is the loveliest thing ever. it reminds me of high school and college, when i would spend as much time as possible with my friends. of course, no matter how much time i spent with them, it was never enough.

one day, that changed, and i spent much more time on my own than i did with friends. i could blame the 8-11 hour work days, but that wasn’t entirely it.

the stories i told myself were that i was an introvert, that i liked spending time alone, that i liked spending lots of time alone, that i was fine with seeing my friends only occasionally, that i needed lots of alone time to replenish.

hahahahaha.

my pure unadulterated delight at spending all this time with my friend is making me rethink those stories. it turns out, none of them are entirely true.

the thing i realized is that i need to spend much more time connecting with people than i have ever allowed myself to admit. i need true, deep, rich connections.

it turns out that i have spent a lot of my adult life feeling lonely.

only i never realized it.

if i had realized it, i don’t know that i could have admitted it, even to myself.

it is hard for me to admit that i need other people. that need involves other people. i like things that i can accomplish on my own; they feel easier and safer.

things that involve other people make me feel vulnerable. vulnerability is scary. (scratch that. it’s bigger than scary. vulnerability is terrifying.)

the biggest reason i would never have admitted that i was lonely, even to myself, is that i was ashamed.

as if feeling (being) lonely was something to be ashamed of.

i don’t know why this is, but i suspect that it has something to do with low self-worth and the belief that loneliness is visible and self-perpetuating. as in, if i need connection, clearly i don’t deserve connection; if i deserved it, i would have it already and wouldn’t need it.

this reminds me of an episode of frasier. (i am slowly making my way through every single episode. i love that show.) in this particular episode, frasier was analyzing his relationship troubles with the help of the voices (in his head) of two ex-wives, an ex-girlfriend, and his mother. finally, he says something like, “you mean it comes down to fear of rejection?! you mean i’m alone because i’m afraid of being alone?!”

yes. something like that.

the thing i can see, in retrospect, is that if i had admitted to myself that i was lonely, maybe i would have been able to do something about it. maybe i would have made time with friends more of a priority. maybe i would have made finding kindred spirits more of a priority. maybe i would have felt the loneliness and learned that it wouldn’t devour me.

the thing i can also see, in retrospect, that if i had admitted to others that i was lonely, or that i needed/wanted connection, that it would have been a way of letting people in. letting people in is something i am not terribly good at doing. i am much better at keeping people out.

this feels like a very messy ending, but this is not the sort of thing that i can tie up with a nice neat bow.

this is a thing that is very hard for me. it is hard for me to admit. it is hard for me to work on.

it feels big and scary and messy – but it also feels important, and so i am practicing reaching out and being vulnerable.

on the one hand, it's been a very rainy and strangely snow-filled winter.

on the other hand, it's been exceptionally mild, so we've been doing a lot of walking and wandering and exploring of various portland neighborhoods over the past few months. it is one of my favorite things to do.

these days, there are signs of spring everywhere.

{a photo project honoring radiance, one of my words for 2012 :: 52 photos that represent radiance, 52 photos that represent luminosity.}

today, i offer up a musing on radiance from my journal.

do i have a sense of myself as sweet and steady? not really.

i notice [redacted], wherever he is. do i have that same sense of myself? definitely not. i feel like i go unnoticed, am passed over, which would explain why i like to be funny. humor draws attention and i am afraid that people won't notice me otherwise.

i think about friends of mine – i think they would be noticed no matter what because there is something about them that stands out. you just feel better because they are there. i don't have that same sense of myself and i think i try to compensate.

that's related to radiance. what if i could trust that i was enough, and i was visible, and the right people are attracted to me. i wouldn't feel that same need to be funny. not that i might not be funny anyway, just that it wouldn't feel forced.