Being a girl.

Becoming a woman. It's sort of overrated in some ways, isn't it? I'll always be a girl at heart -- a hint of wildness; a glint of mischief; always curious.

Annual review.

My current company's annual performance review process is slightly different from what I'm used to with my previous employers. Whereas most people receive their bonuses and raises at the end of the year, we receive them in the first quarter of the following one.

I'll admit it wasn't particularly helpful coming up on the holidays in my first year here with no extra funds for Christmas presents, but then I realized, most (if not all) of my bonuses have always gone straight into my savings accounts anyway, so actually receiving it was more for peace of mind than anything.

Peace of mind. Now that we've purchased a home together and considerably depleted our bank accounts in the process (damn that down payment and closing costs!), I think I've subconsciously started to worry more about things that I previously wasn't as worried about, like job security.

Actually, I'm mostly just worried about job security -- especially in this economy, nothing's ever guaranteed, although TIME reports things are looking slightly better. That, and the CEO of my company recently extended his employment contract for another six years here, so I'll take my and Husband's decision to move to MD as a good sign of things to come.

I realized over the weekend that I've been, more or less, working since high school, when I was 15. My first foray into being an entrepreneur involved teaching piano to my grandmother's neighbor's children, while my first "real", tax-paying job was as an activities assistant at the nursing home down the street.

Although it's been well over a decade since those very first paychecks, and I've gone down many other paths since then, I still feel so lost and unsure -- and, most damning of all, still unfulfilled.

Reflecting back, I've only experienced true happiness -- that is, true bliss where my professional work and life is concerned -- in very short, very infrequent bursts since those early days.

Admittedly, those enjoyable moments have been more frequent in recent years, through freelancing projects and school. My thesis topic, also, brings me much joy and passion as much as it makes me feel anxious and stressed out as graduation inches closer and closer.

But the fact remains that I've always felt this constant, incessant need to "find my calling", so to speak, and that void remains glaringly, largely unfilled. A feeling most characteristic of my generation, perhaps, but even more so, a feeling most characteristic of creative, wild souls like mine, more probably.

May 2014 get me there.

He proposed.

And lucky, lucky me.  I get to hold on to those amazing million little moments, again and again and again.

Embracing another New Year.

For 2012, I'll be living the life I always imagined -- waking up with the sun, going above and beyond at work, doing my best in school, wander around the city, traveling to others, spending time with my loved ones, kissing the man who has my heart, laughing with my girlfriends, making time for writing, reading every night before bed.

What more could anyone ever want?

Moving on.

I am getting ready to move once again, right after the New Year. It will be my fourth move in less than a year, but I am quite excited for this new space. 

The apartment itself is old, and nothing to brag about. But it is a gated complex, with free parking, pool, and gym; shopping, food, and movie theater nearby in downtown suburbia, and ten-minute walking distance from work. But even better than that, I will be getting the master bedroom, which is bathed in an abundance of bright, natural light, generous closet real estate, and my own bathroom. 

I haven't started to pack my belongings yet, but am already imagining how I will make this new place my own. I went through so, so much this past year, but I am grateful for each and every moment. It made this life mine, and it is with a peaceful heart that I am welcoming the new year.

Cheers to 2012.

Metamorphosis.

Remember your name. Do not lose hope—what you seek will be found. Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped to help you in their turn. Trust dreams. Trust your heart, and trust your story.

- Neil Gaiman

Lots of change in my life these days - and yet, so much remains the same.

Labor of love.

I haven't had much time for leisure writing these days.

Part of me knows that this is bullshit. That it takes 10 seconds to log in, and another ten minutes to type out something - anything. But part of me also feels perfectly justified in my neglect of this blog as of late.

As of late, in between working and volunteering, I have been busy preparing for interviews and class presentations, dealing with some unfortunate family matters, as well as doing an insane amount of reading and studying for school. There's probably more in there somewhere, but drafting a laundry list of complaints isn't my intention here.

My intention here, with this blog entry, comes from the fact that I've been at my absolute happiest in a very long time. I celebrated my birthday last week, and have realized just how much I have changed -- how many challenges I've braved, and how much beauty I have seen -- in a matter of a year.

Year after year, I realize more and more that each of our lives, is a labor of love.

Inject your life with love -- for yourself, for those you care most around you, for your dreams and goals and those of others. Love first, and happiness will then follow.

Living your strongest and happiest life.

I've found that the universe always has an uncanny way of leaving you little hints of what's to come; always showing you that you are on the right (or wrong!) path, with small signs here and there to guide you along the way.

All you have to do, is take notice, and listen; to be prepared and armed with a plan, ready for action.

Not too long after I wrote about my resolve to be (and become, still) a happier person a few days ago, I received in my inbox an interesting newletter article from SUCCESS Magazine titled, "Come on and get happy."

*looks around*.

*points to self*.

Wait. Who should be getting (more) happy, me?

Oh, yeah. Me.

The article referred to a study conducted by the National Bureau of Economic Research, where research suggested that life satisfaction, particularly among women, is declining. Data pulled from the study, which involved over 45,000 women over a period of 40 years, pointed to two things: that not only are we less happy than our male counterparts, but that we are also gradually becoming less and less happy, period.

I was both relieved, yet appalled when I read this. Relieved because it feels good not to be alone in my discontent, but completely appalled because we aren't the helpless, passive, or reactive sex that society seems to (still) make us out to be. We can totally do something about this. We can actively and fully regain and embrace our power to be happy.

But perhaps the bigger question on everyone's mind is, how?

I then found out about Marcus Buckingham, a New York Times bestselling author, motivational speaker, and all-around personal strengths expert, who tackled the subject of women's happiness in his book, Find Your Strongest Life: What the Happiest and Most Successful Women Do Differently. According to him, the happiest and most successful women of our time exhibited certain similarities, such as:

• focusing their lives on their best moments;
• letting go of what doesn't strengthen them;
• and, perhaps the most important one of all to me, accepting who they are.

More specifically, he urges women to explore the role they were born to play -- and then play it well.

(To find out your role, you can take his quiz at StrongLifeTest.com, which gives you a number of different hypothetical situations, with a variety of possible decision choices for each. The choice you make in each situation then indicates your interests, strengths, and the corresponding role that's likely to be most fulfilling for you.)

"Knowing your role is like having a compass providing direction on where to find happiness," he says. "The test provides a clear distinction of your biggest strength and suggests career moves that match those strengths."

Now, as we all know, women play a multitude of roles these days, from mothers, daughters, and sisters, to executives, consultants, or assistants. But I think Buckingham's on to something here, and I'm just mad he jumped on it before I (or anyone else) did.

After taking the quiz a few times over the past few days, and consistently scoring the "Creator" role each and every time, I've realized that I am at my best -- and, ultimately, happiest -- when I am developing new content, writing or blogging, brainstorming ideas or implementing new systems, or even just randomly doodling on the side of my notebook during meetings.

And although this realization was more of a reaffirmation of my existing strengths versus a more epic A-HA! moment of utter clarity, I took this as a good sign that I am doing something right; that even though my current job is nowhere near what I envision myself doing down the line, "for the rest of my life", at least I am creating, and finding, opportunities for myself to get to that point, one day.

And, you better believe I will appreciate it so much more when I do.

There are the happy people of Bali. And then there's me.

One of the things that left such a deep impression on me during my time in Bali, was the strong, omnipresent sense of spirituality that guide the Balinese people in their everyday lives. Over 90% of the Balinese are Hindu, and their devotion to their religion is greatly apparent, no matter where you are on the island.

Temples with beautiful, spacious courtyards, and intricate sculptures were at every turn. The smell of incense permeated the air at every other hour, past every other corner. You could not take more than a few steps before you risked walking on some small offerings -- flowers, fruits, candy, and sometimes even cigarettes, tucked in little woven, leaf boxes on the ground or random sidewalk nooks.

It was all so wonderful to behold, and being able to witness the peaceful, gentle manner in which these people went about their daily, simple routines was truly a blessing. Despite their troubles, everyone I met seemed so content; so at ease, and at peace, with their place and role in the world.

This got me thinking about my own daily life back home, in the States, and how unhappy I've been for a very long time now. I was never really sure how, nor when, this chronic dissatisfaction started, exactly. I just knew that no matter how often I smiled or laughed out loud -- no matter how genuinely happy I was in that moment -- there was always the tiniest sense of emptiness; a hollowness that would echo back within me when the silence settled back down again deep down inside my core.

Reading a friend's recent blog entry made me realize that I, too, was an incredibly happy child who learned to create her own happy moments when times were less than ideal or sad. As I grew up, I never relied on anyone else to entertain me or comfort me when I was upset or frustrated. Now that I am an adult, I am sometimes accused of being "too independent", or "emotionally distant and cold", not allowing anyone to support me or help me when I need it the most. Sometimes, however, being strong is merely a cover up for weakness underneath. In my case, I let the stress and anxiety build up inside, and then it all comes out at the most inopportune moments. Misdirected anger. Uncontrollable crying, shaking, sobbing. In the past year or so, I started becoming someone I don't really recognize anymore.

First comes the awareness that the problem exists. Now comes the time for some major changes to take place.

It is so easy to forget that we are the only ones responsible for our own happiness. It is even easier to rely on other people or external factors as our primary source of joy. I may have just returned from an amazing trip abroad, but another journey is ahead of me now, one that needs to start from within.

Because happiness is a daily habit. And I intend to make it one of my best ones from now on.

There are no wrong turns.

Things have not been easy. And my heart doesn't realize it's still hurting so deeply until I am alone, in the dark.

In the darkness, the silence whispers to me stories of memories and moments with you. In the darkness, I can't pretend to forget; the sobs escaping my chest are reminders that I will always remember.

It's painful, when you realize that some journeys are meant to be traveled on your own; that in order to go forward, you must leave certain things, people, or places behind. There's always the tendency and desire to hold on, but I've learned time and time again that you cannot move on without letting go. Otherwise, you risk betraying your own soul; your own potential to grow.

But there has always been something freeing in getting lost. For oftentimes, it is while getting lost that we usually find our own way again.

I'm finding my own way again. And up ahead, where I am heading, there are no wrong turns.

The laws of the universe.

There are moments where I want to scold time and tell it to stand absolutely still. Like the first time you whispered into my ear that you loved me, on a warm and balmy summer night just like tonight, on a bench in a half-forgotten, isolated park in the middle of the city. Or the time you reached for me through the early morning fog, pulling me closer against your chest, our bodies melding into each other's so perfectly, our hearts beating in tandem with a faraway mosque's call to prayer.

I wish. I wish I can freeze time indefinitely as I please. So that today is still tomorrow, and tomorrow will be today, still, extending over the course of numerous days and weeks and maybe even months to come, where time has no authority over us; where time doesn't change anything between us; where time is always exactly where it's supposed to be for either of us. 

But the laws of the universe forbids this. And so I move on, powerless against the seconds and minutes of time; weightless, like a graying, dying dandelion, its seeds being blown apart, its pieces carried away into the wind. 

There is no turning back, I know. And although time will never stand still for anyone, at the very least, it always offers us the chance to heal; the luxury of starting over all again. 

Words will heal you when you are broken.

Years ago, someone rather useless told me one, single useful thing.

You must write it all out, she had said, when I told her what initially brought me to her cold and sterile office.

You must write it all out to clear your head before bed, even if it's imperfect or doesn't make any sense or makes you angry or cry, or breaks your heart or makes you feel like a complete and utter fool.

Write it out. Read aloud what you've written. Then tear it up, throw it away, forget it. It won't solve the problem, but at least you will get to sleep a little more soundly that night.

And then, just maybe, you will find that things will be better in the morning.

She said something to that effect, all in one breath, in the most indifferent and nonchalant of ways, but of course not nearly as lengthy because we all know therapists of the traditional kind never really say much. Their job is to ask more from you than what you'd like or care to share or expose.

And so I was scared to talk to another one again recently. But that ship has since left the shore, and to my small surprise, this new one is letting me set my own sails, steer my own way. With this one I have complete control. The conversation flows easily, gently, without any judgment.

I don't know when I'll see land again, but for the moment I am content just floating along, working my way through the storms.

And the saying goes, "Keep calm, and carry on."

Ghost. I've been a total ghost this past week and a half, as I struggle to make sense of what has happened; to accept that it did happen; to confront the fact that the road ahead, wherever it may lead, is mine and mine alone to start walking down.

Because like all else in life, "this, too, shall pass." Life is impermanent, my mother reminded me tonight, as she held me and I forgave her and let my sobs and tears wet the front of her sweater.

It will be a long and arduous process. Already, nothing has been easy. And already, I've been cruel and unfair and dishonest; needy and desperate and insecure and just basically all sorts of other adjectives most people would avoid. But despite the listless and hapless feelings permeating my being these days, hopeless has never once been one of them at all.

And so, all is therefore not lost. And for that, I have to thank my no-longer-a-teenager brother, closest girlfriends, and new friends for it the most.

This, too, shall pass.

DARKNESS DOESN’T resent the dawn for making such a racket. Darkness settles back on its haunches and waits. Darkness knows the light will exhaust itself by evening.

- SY SAFRANSKY'S NOTEBOOK (The Sun Magazine, MAY 2011 | ISSUE 425)

Crossing that bridge.

I want to. I really, wholeheartedly, heartbreakingly want to. But I can't do it - I won't do it, if you won't be waiting on the other side.

Choosing happiness.

It's a decision.

Carving your own path.

I can hardly contain my excitement at becoming an official graduate student this Fall.

I am meeting my academic advisor this Friday. After a very long time -- or at least, what feels like a very long time -- I've finally figured out what I want to do. And, truth be told, I was a little scared when I realized that I didn't -- that I never -- want to go to law school. What do I do now? Where do I go from here? There were a multitude of possibilities, and perhaps, maybe even a little too many.

But I am so glad I took my time to sort through the options, and am even more glad that my parents supported me during my exploratory stage, encouraging me to find something that fit. There's nothing worse than having people pressure you into a commitment or force you down a path so far away from your own vision for yourself, and your life.

Slowly, but surely, I'm looking forward to moving forward.

With wild flowers in your hair.

via

Most people make their resolutions during the New Year, but I find that the first signs of Spring always bring with them a sense of rebirth and renewal that is more fitting to my own way of implementing new habits and changes.

After spending the larger part of this past winter season working hard and even harder towards my goals, I can now, figuratively and literally, sit back and watch things bloom; let down my hair, bask in the moment, and enjoy the fruits of our labor, soon.

The edge of the world.

There were many plans of exciting parties in the city being tossed around for New Year's Eve, but Manfriend and I ended up welcoming 2011 in a much less crowded and more quiet manner this year.

I want to say the long weekend was a low-key one, but that wouldn't be a very accurate assessment at all. If these last few days are any indication of what's to come, then I am predicting an abundance of moments filled with love and laughter, good food and good company with close friends and family in 2011.

I wouldn't know how I know this, exactly, but I have an incredibly great feeling about this next year, and new phase, of my life. Maybe one day, in a decade or two, I will look back on this year and smile quietly to myself.

2011 will be where it all first started.

And so who wants to go on living forever.

As beautiful and wonderful the holiday seasons always are, I usually find myself in severe want of "me" time quickly thereafter; a necessary detox, to savor the peaceful quiet after the storm. And as the end of 2010 plants a kiss on me before it tiptoes its way out the door, there's not much else I'd like to do more than spend these last few days of the year finishing up a good bottle of wine, wearing next to nothing by a warm and cozy fireplace, doing mostly nothing but read, think, reflect, and write.

2010 was a tremendously good year, with so much good to be found and enjoyed in so many moments, people, and places. So many passions and interests were pursued, and so many personal and professional goals were achieved. And, despite a few unfortunate losses and decisions to let live and let go, there have been many memories that I've come to hold very close and dear to my heart; many experiences and lessons to remember, always.

But perhaps one of the best feelings that I am bringing with me into the new year is this realization of knowing -- and I mean truly, deeply, genuinely knowing, without a doubt -- understanding, and accepting myself. It is an exhilirating place to be, really, and it is with an open heart and arms that I am welcoming in 2011 and all of its surprises and possibilities.