Inspiration… And Imperfection

Oh hey there and Happy Friday! I hope you all have had a lovely week.

Here in Colorado, the state of burning wildfires, it has looked like this all week in my car :

That’s right. Above 100 degrees. It finally cooled off today to a whopping 90 degrees, but hey, I’m a pitta- I cannot deal with anything pretty much over 70 degrees. My body temperature and personality just burn FIRE all the time- not in a good way. I have fantasies of living in Iceland or Alaska and being quite happy- how I ended up here in Colorado? Not sure.

But alas, things are cooling back into the 80s this weekend, which hopefully helps our brave firefighters contain the fires ravaging our state. MAD.PROPS, firefighters, MAD.PROPS.

To counteract the summer heat this week, I made Angela’s “Thai-Inspired Hydrating Cucumber Salad” this week- I just added some avocado and greens to make it more of a salad. It was pretty ridiculously amazing, but that’s not a surprise- she’s a genius. I’ve said that a few times.

I’ll get better at food photography at some point, I swear. Please hang in there with me until that magical day.

In other food news, after a LOOOOOOONNNNGGGGG day at work today, I stumbled into the house exhausted and mentally drained. Fabulous husband prepared some amazing vegan, gluten-free tacos while I decompressed with an organic cucumber vodka/soda drink (what? it’s ORGANIC and it’s CUCUMBER? It’s practically health food)……. We played a round of camping bocce for Happy Hour…. You know it’s the ultimate in laziness/decompression when it’s too much to actually play bocce ball with anything other than your “camping set” from REI.

Gus loves Bocce

Anyhoo, these tacos made by said husband were bomb and consisted of grilled portobella mushrooms, zuchinni and green and red onions, as well as salsa, tomatoes, fresh chopped cilantro and sliced avocado- all on a corn tortilla. Nom. Nom.

And FINALLY, when I wasn’t stuffing my face with goodness and cucumber vodka, I was working my ass off. And it was worth it- because at the end of the week, I received this handmade painting from a patient who was discharging today.

Gifts like this make my entire world worthwhile. I’ve said it before and will never stop saying it- my job is hard, heart-wrenching at times, and almost always stressful. But when I am met with such gratitude and appreciation, as well as the acknowledgement that I may have helped someone in their lifelong journey… well, that’s all I need…. Of course, I always throw things like this back on my patients, because it is truly THEM doing the work- there is nothing special about me or the work I do with them- they possess their own magic, I simply help hold up the mirror so that they may see their inner light. My patients inspire ME, not the other way around.

In other news, I also have been settling into my role as “yoga teacher” on Fridays from 4-5… and I gotta say, I am LOVING IT. Today I prepped for and taught a class that I was super excited for- we did a ton of shoulder and hip opening. Most of it was seated, most of it was very little movement in general. Think basic eagle arms, neck rolls, pigeon and side bends. Frankly, I couldn’t have gotten MORE basic. But I loved what I was teaching. I had over 15 patients in my class today, which is a success considering it’s Friday night and many patients either a: have passes for the weekend or b: have no interest in doing yoga on a Friday before dinner and would rather attend a different group scheduled at the same time.

Hey, 15 yogis/yoginis? I’ll take it! And afterwards, I received a lot of positive feedback. They were all swarming around, discussing how GREAT it felt to open up their rhomboids, or how they felt rejuvenated, etc. It was my first time feeling like a “real yoga teacher”. I guess I’m starting to embrace this new part of my professional identity. Yeah, I teach yoga. That’s a weird thing to own, because I still feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.

But the best part of teaching at my workplace is that we’re constantly preaching about the virtue of IMPERFECTION. And part of our role as staff is to model this. So I am constantly screwing up in my cueing. Especially when I try to mirror eagle or cowface pose (side note- not a good idea to say, out loud, any word containing “cow” when dealing with eating disorder patients)- but instead, when I realize I’m on the completely different leg than the rest of them, I laugh it off, say “oh crap, whatever leg you are on is fine”, and keep moving.

Because that’s the ultimate lesson. It’s just yoga, and it’s not to be taken too seriously.

Have a grand weekend, dear friends.

Choose Your Words

I’m on a high today. And it’s not because it’s Friday and we have a fun filled weekend ahead of us- although that doesn’t hurt.

I’ve had a great week at work. The kind of week that makes you want to dance on a table, sing out loud to the world, “I LOVE MY JOB!”

In the mental health field, this doesn’t happen often. Actually, I find that, as a therapist, my week is either REALLY bad or REALLY good. There’s never any gray area. It’s black or white.

So it’s been a really good week. And I’m enjoying these flowers and card in my office today as a gift from a patient who finally discharged from treatment.

This week, this particular patient taught me an important lesson about words. Yup, words.

Yeah, yeah, we know that what we say and how we say it is important. But often times, in my job/career, I wonder if any of my patients are actually listening to me. While 90% of my job requires me to listen and be empathic and all that jazz, the other 10% requires me to give guidance, words of wisdom and support and at times, advice.

There are times (more often than not) that I wonder if anyone hears me or takes anything I have to say to heart. When I see my patients repeating the same behaviors, habits and attitudes that are keeping them miserable and stuck in the first place, it can be frustrating. One of those “you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink” things.

But this week, as one of my patient’s was discharging from our program, she shared with the community her own type of graduation speech- she titled it, “52 Things I Learned in Treatment”.

When she read them aloud, I recognized many of them to be things I had said to her throughout the course of her treatment. “Leap and the net will appear”, “you’re uncomfortable? do it anyway”,”does this relationship brighten or dim you?”,”your body is just a vessel for your soul.” There were sweet moments when she paused, looked at me with tears in her eyes and we smiled at each other, silently remembering when we had had that particular conversation. These were words and lessons that I had shared with her for many months and frankly, questioned myself how much was really sinking in.

But something did sink in for her. And I’m not egotistical or self-absorbed enough to think that I really had anything to do with it. It had a lot less to do with me and more to do with her.. When she was finally ready to let her guard down and open up to the beauty and wisdom that was already around her, she began healing.

My point is this- choose your words carefully. Make sure they reflect your intentions. Because people will listen and receive them. So make your words count. And at the same time, open your ears and your heart. Someone might be speaking to you, and you never know what you’ll learn about yourself in the process.

But that’s enough intense sappiness for the day. It’s Friday, people. Kick back, grab a drink and plan your weekend fun.

Monday (non-YTT) Musings

So it’s Monday night and I am curled up on the couch watching Friends re-runs. This was my first Monday night in three months that I didn’t race straight from work to the yoga studio, cram a Pro Bar down my throat while driving like a maniac across town in rush hour (which defeats the purpose of yoga- hello? Cursing at some idiot in the left lane going the speed limit is not practicing non-judgment or non-violence) and then sit and pretend I’m all Zen-like and learn about yoga for three hours.

[Although I do feel the need to plug the goodness that is Pro Bar. One of the best things to come out of YTT was my meeting of Pro Bars. I’m particularly fond of this flavor. I try not to munch on them as a snack, only a meal substitute when i’m short on time, unless I’m particularly active, as they’re pretty nutritionally dense (ER, high in carbs, sugars and fats) But in a pinch and if you’re active, they’ll make you smile. But maybe that’s just me. Food does make me smile. ]

But I digress….

I’m not going to lie. This first free Monday night was glorious. It had been a particularly rough Monday at work so I grabbed a glass of wine with some coworkers after 5:00. My husband is out of town this week for work, so after said glass of liquid relaxation, I picked up Gus from day care, made myself a ginormous salad for dinner and organized my closet. I believe that if I unpack my sandals and sundresses and store away my boots and leggings, the uncharacteristically Colorado cold spring weather will pass through. Ah, denial. Things aren’t looking optimistic in that end.

I’ve also been thinking about the future of Vitadventure. I considered saying goodbye to my blog, as my YTT is done and I still am at a loss for what I’ll blog about now. Since I have a day job and am not teaching yoga currently (well, outside of work), I worried I’d lose my yoga teacher training or yogi readers if I just stopped blogging about yoga. But then I happened to notice the title of my blog and zeroed in on the “adventure” part.

It’s no secret that I love adventure. I love to travel, I love to just say “yes” to life. That, I know for sure. I can blog about yoga, but I can also blog about healthy living, adventure, marriage, mental health, food, traveling…. You name it! I’ve got a few other blogging themes rolling around in my head but it would probably take some balls to
post them, so for now, I’ll focus on sharing my vision. That life is about experiencing vitality and adventure.

At least it is for me. So I’ll continue to blog… About all the good stuff that makes my world go ’round. And hope that people keep reading.

Pomp & Circumstance

So it’s been just over 24 hours since I graduated from yoga teacher training. It’s actually a bit surreal and emotional, which surprises me. The level of emotion I experienced yesterday (and today) didn’t match up with my overall lackluster attitude throughout the past 3 months of training. I’m not really sure what all the emotion is about. After all, I tended to downplay the entire YTT experience. It really was just “meh.” And at some point soon, I’m going to post my reflections from YTT, and the entire experience from my perspective. But I haven’t been all that inspired or pensive. I just can’t bring myself to wrap my head around it and start typing. So I’ll just save it for “someday soon.”

But what I can share is what the last day of YTT was like. Basically, all 22 of us had 10 minutes each to present our final “Yoga and Your Life” projects. Overall, it was pretty cool. Some people shared art work, others shared their research about yoga and you-name-it. A few people presented on their “self-studies.” I didn’t get this. It felt like code for “I didn’t really prepare for anything so instead I’ll just share my life story.” One girl made ghee and gave us all little mason jars filled with buttery goodness that I can’t wait to try. My presentation on “Yoga and Eating Disorders” went really well. I finally felt like I had the opportunity to really speak about what I love, what I know, what I am passionate about. It was cool to share with my trainees what I actually do all day. Afterwards in the bathroom, one of my fellow students came up to me and said, “Wow, I had no idea that you were so bad ass and did all that all day long!” It was frankly, nice validation. But moreso, I was happy for the opportunity to share my
passion and life work with others.

But I digress.

After all of our presentations, friends and family arrived and we thanked them for putting up with not having their loved ones around for 3 months. We were presented with our diplomas, and a gift of mala beads and a scarf.

Everyone else stayed afterwards for a pot luck. I high tailed it out of there, feeling only slightly guilty about my lack of desire to kumbaya with everyone. I wanted to head home to my husband and my dog. And when I arrived home, my husband had flowers, a balloon and a card waiting for me. Husband score! (actually, he ALWAYS does stuff like this. Don’t be too jealous, but it’s true).

I showed him my “diploma”. I actually was super proud and beaming. My excitement really surprised me, since I never really loved my YTT experience.

But even though I’m still “meh” about my YTT experience, what I’ve thought about is this- I had been talking about doing my yoga teacher training for 11 YEARS. Even if I never teach a yoga class ever, I can say that I did it. I accomplished something. I never have to think, “what if?” And this experience, on some level, makes me a better therapist. And hopefully a better wife, friend and human. And those are the things that are important to me.

Something really cool happens the moment you say, “I’m a yoga teacher.”
I’ve been rolling those words around my tongue all day. “I’m a yoga teacher.”

And what that means to me is this- it’s my responsibility to bring more LOVE and LIGHT into the world. That’s it. More love and light to share with the world. That is my message, that is my motivation, that is my purpose.

And starting with love, I need to thank my husband and my dog, who have both, in their own ways, been the most constant source of support and encouragement throughout this process. I share this accomplishment with them, because I couldn’t have done it any other way.

Dharma Sharing

Well, I’m just sitting here licking my lips after consuming this insane salad from Angela over at Oh She Glows. Vegan, gluten-free, nut-free, soy-free goodness…. with all my favorite spring goodies: asparagus, leeks, strawberries? Yes please. She’s a genius over there on Oh She Glows, I tell you.

So, it’s been a busy few days for me over here in Vitadventure-land. It’s been back to work. And I have to say, I’m pleasantly surprised. It hasn’t been nearly as overwhelming or stressful as I had anticipated. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I’ve been ENJOYING being back. It’s been confirmation that I do love my work. It gives me pleasure and purpose, as well as stress and heartache. But I’ll take it- for now.

Yesterday, we had our last Monday evening YTT class. It was titled, “Dharma Sharing” on the syllabus. Dharma, in the Hindu world, is basically the moral foundation of life. If you GTS that (that means “Google That Shit”, Mom, in case you’re wondering), you’ll get an array of the following descriptions

natural universal laws whose observance enables humans to be contented and happy

the moral law combined with spiritual discipline that guides one’s life.

“that which holds” the people of this world and the whole creation.

an individual’s duty fulfilled by observance of custom or law.

Basically, if you’ve ever been to a yoga class and the teacher gives a nice little inspirational talk at the beginning, that’s their “Dharma Talk”.

So I envisioned that “Dharma Sharing” would be a lecture on accessing your true nature, what moves you, what you love and how you share that with your students. Sounds reasonable, right? How to share your inspiration?

Nope, my friends. It was another “Sit Around in a Circle and Share Your Feelings” session. What? We JUST HAD THIS last week?

Our teacher told us to each simply share, for 3-5 minutes, whatever words or emotions presented themselves to us. And our only job was to listen.

I won’t lie. I thought, “Listen? I have been doing this for 8 HOURS TODAY!!! I don’t want to listen to anyone else!!!”

Ah, the life of a therapist. Sometimes, we just have to stop LISTENING to preserve our own sanity.

But alas, I took a deep breath and tested my patience. I listened. For 2.5 hours.

For 2.5 hours, people cried. People laughed. People took a lot longer than 5 minutes each. People overshared. People talked about their early childhood trauma, their relationship issues, their depression, their lack of self-confidence, their love of one another, their abandonment issues, their rejection from their father. I considered giving out my business card. I could have made a KILLING.

But I get the program’s point. They want us to be aware of our own shit before we start helping other’s on their spiritual journey. That makes sense. We need to be comfortable sharing our emotions and thoughts with our students. But, it was all a little too “kumbaya” for me. Everyone else went out afterwards for smoothies and tea, and all I wanted to do was go home, watch some E! and hang out with my husband and my dog.

Which makes me feel guilty, in a way. I wonder if I picked the wrong YTT program. I’m not all “kumbaya” and I never really connected with any of my fellow students. I keep thinking, “Did I miss the boat here? Am I missing something? Why does everyone love this program except for me?”

And then I realize that I am truly living my own yoga in my own way- and sharing that in my own way. I didn’t need a YTT program to prove this to me, or to become BFF with a bunch of yoga teacher trainees to become “enlightened” or access my dharma. And that’s not to discount the friendships that my fellow trainees have made with each other.

It’s just that, for me, I already have love and meaning in my life, through my marriage and through my family and friends. I chose a career that makes me an agent for meaningful change in people’s life. And being back at work this week is the reminder that I’m already living my dharma. I’m happy. I’m content. I’m creating meaningful change and helping people to heal in a small way. My way.

And that, my friends, is all I can ask for. Well, that and red wine and chocolate.

Musings from Sabbatical

Ah, Wednesday. It’s Hump Day, right?

Since I’ve been on sabbatical, I’ve lost all sense of what day it is, and what the days of the week mean. I haven’t experienced the dread of Monday mornings or the building excitement of Thursday Happy Hours knowing “we just have one more day until the weekend”. I’ve simply just experienced days. Occassionally I’ve forgotten what day it is. Oops.

So now I have just a few more days before I start work again. Which feels surreal because it was just three weeks ago when I was considering NOT going back to work after this leave and finding a different job.

That’s right- the first few days on leave I felt like I had been in a fog and it was finally starting to clear. And when the fog cleared, I saw how stressed out, anxious and frankly, traumatized I had been at work for months…

To recap for new readers, I’m a therapist at a private behavioral hospital treating eating disorder patients. It’s a tough job. It’s heartbreaking at times. It’s not a 9-5 job and then forget about it until tomorrow- it’s an “I’m always thinking about work even if I’m not at work” kind of job. Or at least it is for me. My fellow clinicians who have better boundaries than I do? I envy them.

But for me, I put my heart and soul into my job. And the risk of opening your heart and soul is that it gets broken. It had been a terribly difficult, heart-breaking and traumatizing few months at work prior to my personal leave. Of course, I didn’t realize it at the time- I just kept going and going and going.

And so, in those first few days and the first week of my leave, I became angry. I was angry at myself, for not taking care of myself earlier. I was angry at my company, for not taking care of me earlier as well and not noticing that I needed a break. I was angry at the culture of my job, the high stress and intensity of it, and all that it asks of us as clinicians and healers.

Simply put, I was pissed. Once I had the space away from work, I saw what the constant stress and intensity was doing to me- on a physical level, a spiritual level, and an emotional level. And several days into my leave, I said “Fuck this, I’m going to start looking for new jobs. This job is NOT worth the stress and the hassle.”

And that first week, I allowed myself space for my anger. I even did some job searching (although each time I saw something, I was like “meh”). I thought about beefing up my resume. I thought about all the different possibilities for my career. “Fuck this, I’m never going back there” was my mantra for a week.

But what a difference a week makes. By the time Week 2 rolled around, I had some therapy space to let the craziness settle. I felt grounded. I felt more calm. My heart started to feel as if it was on the mend again (so grateful for reiki!!!). I was experiencing less symptoms of PTSD. I was sleeping again. I was smiling again. And I was entertaining the notion of possibly going back. I was thinking a bit more sanely and not out of anger or reactivity.

Week 3 brought about a lot of reflection. The notion of NOT returning to work was no longer on the table, because I realized something. I missed work. I missed the crazy nuthouse that is my job. I missed my coworkers, who are an incredible bunch of dedicated individuals. And mostly, I missed my patients. Terribly so.

I went into this particular field- not just mental health, but eating disorders- because I felt a calling to it. Simply put- it’s where my heart is. It’s a tough field- one that most mental health providers don’t want to touch with a ten foot pole- but frankly, I can’t imagine being anywhere else. For every stress and heartache and fear, there’s a tremendous reward when you see a patient embracing recovery and life again.

And so I go back renewed, but with caution. I’m scared. I’m scared I lost my “touch” or that my coworkers or patients won’t want me back. I’m scared that I’m going to walk into the building again, with all the drama and stress, and go back to “fuck this” mode.

But I know I need to do a better job at setting boundaries (ie: not checking emails on weekends and evenings!). I need to step back a bit and not do my patient’s work for them. I need to practice non-reactivity to all the daily drama that goes on at an eating disorder hospital. And mostly, I need to practice connection without attachment. Buddha had it all right, after all.

My patients have beautiful souls. They make me laugh. They make me cry. They make me angry and irritated. They make me smile. They make me- well- me. This is who I am. I’m a healer. As one of my patients once said, “You’re like an ambassador of life!”

And so I think- Ambassador of LIFE? How can I pass THAT up???

Except as a clinician, it’s not about you. It’s about your patients. So I go back for all of them- past, present and future patients.

But not until Monday. 😉

Couch Day(s)

This is what it looked like outside my window this morning.

W.T.F???

WHAAATTTT???????

So I prompted closed the curtains, threw on a pair of wool socks and cozied up on my couch for the day. I’m not ashamed to admit it. And I did the same thing yesterday, too. And it was GLORIOUS.

Every now and then you need a couch day. You know what I’m talking about. Whether you’re sick, you’re getting sick, or you’re emotionally unstable in dire need of a mental health day, the need for A Couch Day arises.

I used to take couch days frequently when I worked for the state at my previous job. It was fairly easy to call in sick and take care a mental or physical health day. In my current job, calling in sick is unheard of. I took one sick day in the two years I’ve worked there (not including my sabbatical). You show up even if you’re vomiting- which is always ironic, seeing as we work with patients with bulimia. And you don’t call in sick unless you really want to fuck the rest of your week over and make it incredibly stressful and difficult. So you can imagine my struggles with even taking a leave of absence in the first place. I felt guilty. I felt weak. I felt like a failure as a therapist and that I was letting down my patients. I don’t feel that way now, but that’s a post for later this week ;).

So back to my point- it’s ironic, actually. Here we are, a group of mental health professionals, who struggle with practicing self-care and self-compassion.

That said, since I’m on my last week of sabbatical, I fully enjoyed my past two couch days. I worked on my final YTT presentation while watching Dr. Oz, TBS showings of “Final Destination” and “Blue Crush”. Every now and then I got up, did some simple yogic stretching, made a batch of juice, cooked some nutritious food, and then went back to the couch. I watched the snow flakes fall from the comfort of my fluffy white sofa and soaked in the last few days of being 100 % lazy.

And 100% lazy felt good. It felt like a restorative yoga class, but not just for my body, but for my attitude.

So go take a couch day. Heck, take two! And then get back up the next day ready to move. Because it’s all about balance.

Weekend Recap

Well, yesterday wrapped up our last official weekend of YTT. To be honest, it was a bit anti-climatic.

We basically workshopped adjustments and therapeutics. I was hoping the “therapeutics” portion would include more of a lecture on the physical and emotional benefits of asana practice, but we basically rolled around on our mats with blocks and bolsters.

On Sunday we did learn and practice some chakra balancing on each other, which was fun, but other than that, nothing really that noteworthy. I can’t decide if I’m just approaching the end of YTT and therefore I’m struggling with mustering up excitement about the program- or if this has just been a theme since I began YTT. I have the sinking feeling that it may be the latter- in which case, I ask myself “What kind of a yogi am I that I don’t even like my YTT program?” But that’s another post for another day.

Since I felt the need to get my weekend excitement in SOMEWHERE, my husband and I went to Boulder last night for a date night.

We started at Aji, a Latin American restaurant that we always hit up if we’re in the Boulder area. They have great vegetarian, pescetarian and overall healthful options. It was just an added bonus that they have Happy Hour all day on Sundays. 😉

We started with a lobster and banana ceviche, as well as an order of both mushroom and poblano empanadas.

DELISH!

I ordered a winter squash and coconut soup that was on the sweeter side but equally as delicious. Hard to accept the fact that it’s still cold enough here in Colorado that I’m craving soup.

Tim and I shared their house salad, which is always a winner.

Spinach, jicama, artichoke hearts, avocado, red beans, onions, sprouts and cotija vinaigrette

Afterwards we walked over to the Boulder Theater to see Colin Hay. Yes, the lead singer from the 80s band Men at Work. This is now the third time we’ve seen him perform and it’s always an amazing show- just him and his guitar. He’s absolutely hysterical as well, so I always feel as if I’m getting a comedy and musical show in one.

And that was our weekend- it was a lovely way to wrap up Sunday.

This week marks my last week of my sabbatical. It is crazy to think of how quickly the time has gone by. It feels like just yesterday I was posting from Day One of my leave, and now I’m wrapping things up and getting set to go back to work. Stay tuned this week for a post about my experience being on sabbatical and thoughts and musings about my career.

And my other plans for this last week of stress-free bliss? I’ve got some self-care planned- massage, facial, haircut- you know, all the important stuff.I’ll be making final touches on the new home. We are mostly moved in and have some furniture coming this week, so stay tuned for pictures of the new home when it’s not looking like a war zone.

I’m also still feeling under the weather and like I’m fighting off a spring cold, so more juicing and today I may bundle up on the couch with the newest Vegetarian Times magazine and a healthy dose of Twilight. Who needs cold medicine when you’ve got Bella and Edward?

Sh1t and Stuff.

OK.

I realize the title of this post is so un-yoga teacher-like. But frankly, I like when my own yoga teachers drop an appropriate and fitting “f” or “s” bomb in class. “Oh, Chair Pose, the pose that makes everyone response, ‘f#@$ this s#*$’

It’s just yoga, people- it shouldn’t be taken too seriously. So hence my blog post title. Because seriously, there is sh1t and stuff everywhere.

And I’m going to be BRAVE and post what my new house looks like. Even when all my STUFF is EVERYWHERE and my OCD is screaming at me to STAY UP ALL NIGHT AND GET IT ORGANIZED AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DON’T MAKE THIS MESS PUBLIC!!!

I posted yesterday about how much I hate moving. It’s such a bizarre experience. All of your personal items boxed up for a brief transport across town.

Or, in our case, across the country. Since 2008, we were on a crazy journey of selling our house in Denver, moving to a temporary apartment, building a home in Massachusetts, living with my parents for 6 months, living in the new home, realizing that wasn’t the lifestyle for us, trying to sell the home in Massachusetts, moving BACK to Denver into a temporary apartment, then temporary house until our Massachusetts house sold, and now FINALLY- OUR OWN HOME AGAIN.

Which is cause for celebration. But I can’t celebrate, because I’m freaking out about not having my stuff organized. I’m like Monica on “Friends”. But even Monica probably couldn’t move “perfectly”. One of my friends sent me a text today that reminded me, “no matter how organized you think you are, moving sucks.” Thank you, Melissa. 😉

Do you notice that I’m hoping that if I hit “thumbnail” instead of “medium” to post these pictures, it will make the mess SMALLER? Actually, the truth is I can’t figure out how to post pictures next to each other. I joke you not. I promised you that this would not be a technologically-savvy blog.

Then again, I remind myself that this is a beautiful opportunity to practice simplifying. I am getting rid of so much STUFF left and right, donating it, selling it, that it feels liberating. I firmly believe in the power of simplifying our life and all the crap in it- material and otherwise.

After all, we purposely bought a SMALLER house. Strange, I know. My realtor even said, “Um, I never meet a couple that wants to buy SMALLER and SIMPLER.” But my husband and I decided that our values and goals are in traveling the globe, not investing in a home. We wanted simple, we wanted small. We wanted a place that was perfect for our family of two (plus dog), but that allowed us to pool our funds towards traveling.

So this weekend has been about purging all the sh1t we don’t need. Keeping the essentials. Simplifying. We don’t need 10 spatulas. One will suffice. It’s better for the planet, anyway, to keep things simple. So this week we’re on a massive mission to donate, recycle and simplify.

Regardless, the entire weekend reminded me of this precious clip of pure genius. Rest in Peace, George Carlin, while I figure out where to put my stuff.

This post is dedicated to my mother. A stuff-accumulator and Carlin-fan. And I love her for that.

Chaos and Cuisine

So, I write this blog entry from my couch, which is pretty much the only place I have to sit. I’m surrounded by crap everywhere moving boxes and other odds and ends that tell stories about my past. That’s the best part about moving, after all- re-living the stories, right?

Especially for us- [to give a brief background, we’ve basically been living sparsely and out of boxes for two years. We moved from our home in Massachusetts to Colorado with the bare essentials while we waited for that home to sell, then rented for two years while everything was in storage- so basically, unpacking is like Christmas Day- we don’t know what we’ll find in any box].

“What the Hell is this thing? Oh wait, didn’t we get that from Auntie Paula? Or did we pick that up in San Francisco? No, that was the wine glasses….. where did those go? I could have sworn we had a cheese board from Napa as well….. HOLY SHIT IT’S MY JUICER! I FORGOT ABOUT MY JUICER! HOW DID I LIVE WITHOUT MY JUICER FOR SO LONG!!!!”

I could go on and on. I have a desire to write something witty and awesome about lessons learned from moving, but I’ll save it for another day. It’s late and I’m DONE.

So instead I’d share a few pictures thus far of our move.

We kicked off the moving celebration on Thursday night by treating ourselves to dinner at Charcoal. I’d heard great things about this modern Scandinavian restaurant and it did not disappoint.

I ordered the Boston Bibb Lettuce salad to start- with watermelon radish, brioche croutons and a tangy dill goat cheese dressing. It was a reminder that I can never go fully vegan or gluten-free, nor do I want to. [Side note- I’m done with trying to define my diet to fit into a neat box. Gluten-free-vegan-vegetarian-pescetarian-omnivore-flexitarian-clean eating. WHATEVER. I like food too damn much.]

For my entree, I enjoyed a Grilled Shetland Island salmon with white asparagus and a horseradish sauce. Again, amazeballs.

It was a lovely way to celebrate our new home and relax- before the chaos began.

Friday we spent all day moving boxes. It sucked. Moving sucks. But that is another post for another day.

After all our hard labor, it was time to order some take out and play around.

Greek take out- first meal in our new home!

Men playing around

Today, we finished moving all of our crap into the new home, with the assistance of some very gracious friends. We treated them to beer and pizza as a thank you. We had some other friends stop by with a housewarming gift (champagne, cheese cutting board and some artisan cheeses- how well do they know us?). Oddly, there was chaos everywhere, but I felt surrounded by support and friendship. Seriously, I’ve said it before, but we have awesome friends.

We spent the rest of the day unpacking. There’s a small dent in the chaos. I’m trying not to let my OCD take over. I’m rapidly scanning all the stuff we need to do and it’s enough to make me reach for some Xanax. But even that is buried somewhere in the depths of our toiletries, so perhaps I’ll just hang out in child’s pose for a bit and take a few deep breaths.