Do I Dare? (It's Moving Time)

"Do I dare disturb the universe?" --T.S. Eliot

Yes, I do dare. I really love the quote above. It's the idea of leaping forward into the unknown, so much so that it puts (your) universe askew. I won't lie, I've had a knot in my stomach for about a week and a half. Right before a move, I always want to hold on just a little longer to that comfort zone, while wanting to let go at the same time. 

Over 3 years (!) ago I wrote this blog post when I first arrived in London, titled "Getting Lost in a Good Way." I'm ready to get lost again, this time in my own country. This will be the first time I'll live in a different state than California! I'm excited to explore. I'm excited to live. I'm excited to dare.

^ And that is the reason for all of this.

***

I don't leave until Saturday, but I felt like posting this blog now because my nervous energy is THROUGH THE ROOF! So sending positive vibes my way will make me smile (hint, hint). Plus, I'm sure I won't be blogging too much this week. Why are there always 5,867,456 things to do before a move?!? 

Let's Talk About the Hardest Part of Leaving

Picture from my Goodbye Picnic. 

I'm just one of those people: someone who always knew that living in one place, one city, for the rest of my life would be suffocating for my personal growth. And so I'm going to embark, yet again, on a new life somewhere bold and big. Because I know that this kind of challenge brings out the very best in me (and boy does it soothe my little travel-loving heart). 

BUT...it doesn't make it any easier when I have to say goodbye. 

I am a big believer in doing what's best for yourself. You can't bend backwards making everybody happy but yourself. However, when the depth of pain in my parents eyes permeates through the sliding airport doors I'll be crossing through...I know I won't be able to help but feel selfish. 

Moving forward often means leaving something else, or someone else, behind. This includes family and friends I have known for over 10, 20, 30 years--people who know me inside and out, want the best for me, support me to the fullest. And I am leaving them. It is a selfish act, and there is no other way to really put it. 

But sometimes, we do have to be selfish in order to actually contribute something in this world. I would be useless if I gave up true authenticity in exchange for making others happy. Authenticity, being true to yourself, is the best thing you or I can do to really leave a worthwhile mark in this world. When I know I'm living my authentic life, I am able to give myself more honestly, more openly, and with more passion than ever. I work harder, I love harder, and I create more.   

So as I roll my suitcases away from my parents' loving arms, as I send goodbye messages to the dearest of friends, as I start packing up this Southern California life I have known for so long, I will be walking into a new chapter that is true to who I am, and I'll rest in the comfort of knowing everyone I have to say goodbye to will be a mere plane ride away. 

That Moment When You Buy a One Way Ticket

There is nothing more symbolic of a life change than the moment you hit the "confirm" button on a one way ticket purchase. This is the 5th time I have bought a one way ticket. Each time I've had a different feeling about the act. 

The first and second time was when I tried to live in Turkey. I didn't have anything planned. I didn't have a job in place. Through this, I learned I'm totally not spontaneous. I can't just go "where the wind takes me." Because of my lack of planning, I lasted all of a month before running back home. I happily bought a one way ticket back, back, to Cali, Cali. 

The third and fourth time were going to and coming back from London. Going to London, I was majorly excited to hit the confirm button and live a new life abroad. Nearly a year later, I was unsure if a one way back to the USA was what I wanted, but I hit confirm anyway. Through this, I learned that my instincts have always been on point and I should listen to them more often. 

The fifth time I bought a one way ticket was all of 5 days ago. SAN to JFK. All I can tell you is this purchase feels right in every way possible. My head, my heart, and my plane route are all aligned in the same direction. And that's a good feeling. 

***

Have you ever bought a one way ticket? Did you end up staying or did you turn back? 

I Am a Passenger (I Ride Through the City's Backsides)

I was watching an Anthony Bourdain Parts Unknown episode on Miami (Anthony is my hero, but I guess I should save that for another post), and who should pop up but Iggy Pop? Apparently Iggy now resides in Miami (whhhaaat??) and enjoys the slowness of a beach town. He talked about visiting the ocean, being at peace, and finding the "end of complications" there.

The end of complications. Wow, I thought, what a notion. And as beautiful and peaceful and amazing as that sounds, I don't want that yet.

Say what, Ashley? 

You heard right. I'm still in a zone where I want challenges. I want adventure. I want to jump as highly into the sky as possible. I want to dive into treacherous waters. When I stare at the ocean I don't see the end of complications. Sure, it relaxes me. It brings me peace. But that is because when I stare at that forceful entity, I see endless possibilities. I think to myself, if I sail that way, will I reach Japan? I'm in no mood to settle down anytime soon. It's not time to retire, it's time to live!

I'm finally 30, and with that comes a lot of talk about calming down, becoming "old," and settling. But why? Don't get me wrong, I'm not the same partier as my twenty-something self. I like relaxing more, I like taking the world in through less wilder eyes. But I think I'm onto this new phase of pushing myself. This weekend I tried two new challenging things just because: salsa dancing and Buti Yoga. My butt and thighs are now majorly sore, but my heart is content. I like diving into things that are slightly uncomfortable at first. I like letting myself make a few mistakes because I know I will learn from them. I like this new Ashley; I applaud her vulnerability.

Because this post is Iggy themed, of course I felt like referencing one of his best hits. "The Passenger" is most definitely about adventuring. I especially love the line, "I ride through the city's backsides," because to me it means finding your own path, which may not always be the path widely taken.

I get why Iggy wants to settle down now. He was a mover and shaker in his day, and now he wants a bit of rest. As for me, I'm not there yet. My ride has not stopped in any one location; I am a passenger on an awesome ride, and I hope I keep pushing myself across unknown borders and unchartered territory (and cities' backsides). One day I may yearn for the end of complications, but right now I have some more riding to do.

Why Wanderlust is 'Holding Onto Childhood'

The (grainy) picture above is 7-year-old me with my cousin Bertan, circa 1992 in Turkey. This is my first memory of going to Turkey/an international trip, and the first time I fell in love with travel. Here was a country (that my mom was born in) completely different from my own, but equally as awesome. I was fascinated in the differences between Turkey and the USA, and I still carry that fascination with each new place I go.

Most people are pretty supportive of me being a major traveler, but every now and again I run across someone who has a major disdain for it. Sometimes I get the cliche "Maybe you're a bit lost," or "Can't you be satisfied with staying in one place?" The most annoying question I've been asked is: "Are you just trying to hold onto adolescence/childhood?"

My answer to this is...well yeah, kinda.

Let me explain.

Many of us have become quite curmudgeon in our "old age." I'm 29, by the way, and you'd be surprised at how many of my peers say "UGHHHH. I'm going to be 30! I'm soooooo old." Wait really? Because I think if you said that exact proclamation to a 70 year old, you'd get laughed at. But we've been trained to believe the lie, haven't we? I digress...

In a sense traveling is "holding onto childhood." It's holding onto that sense of wonder children see the world with, daily. How invigorating, how enthralling to hold onto to those things that give us a passion for life!

I won't lie--it's addictive. Stepping off the plane into a foreign airport, with BIENVENUE or CIAO or  HOSGELDINIZ gets me every time right in the pit of my stomach. I love the feeling of whizzing through the border agents and being there--that space between the exit of the airport and the first sidewalk greeting you into a new country. This is my zone. In this space, I am welcomed by all possibilities:

• Learning tidbits of a new language. 
• Gawking at beautiful buildings.
• Learning new transit systems (wait, there are places where you don't need a car??)
• Keeping an open mind whilst becoming engrossed in a new culture. 
• Learning the traditions of the land. 
• Trying new foods/drinks. 
• Discussing politics/how Americans are viewed. 
• Hearing what locals have to say about how our news is reported vs. how their news is reported. 
• Learning about other religions. 
• Meeting people that have grown up outside of my cultural bubble, thus understanding different mindsets (a precursor for true peace between nations). 

Suddenly, you come to understand that having the mind of a child actually makes you more mature, grown-up, and open-minded. From travel comes wisdom. 

Sure, sometimes I "lust" after travel. Sometimes it can be a dangerous game of always leaving, never learning to be a happy with settling; but don't we all partake in that game in different ways? There are people that jump from lover to lover, or hobby to hobby...always moving, not ready to settle. The ultimate point is that settling cannot be forced upon anyone. Whether you are choosing to "settle in one place," or "settle down," it must ultimately be your choice to do so. If you want to travel the world for 50 years, DO IT! If you don't want to get married, don't! If you want to have 8 kids, have them! DO WHAT'S RIGHT FOR YOU, IT'S YOUR LIFE. 

Will you walk the path that's right for you, despite what others say?

So to the person who asked (with an attitude): "Are you just trying to hold onto adolescence/childhood by wanderlusting?" 

YES. I'm 29, I love to travel, I don't need to settle yet, AND I AM HAPPY. If that's hard to understand, I would suggest a little traveling to challenge that deeply engrained mindset of yours.

And with that, I'm off to Portland this week! 

Getting Better All the Time

Oh, hey guys.

The last post went pretty deep; I needed it to. And you know what's really great about having a blog? I got some pretty great "I know what you're going through" e-mails from people, as well as a ton of supportive comments--it's always comforting to know I have some comrades.

Last week, I went to therapy for the first time. It was actually amazing! She helped pinpoint what was bothering me quite a bit about leaving London: that I felt like my most authentic version of Ashley there, making it hard to leave. Truth. What I liked about therapy is how the psychologist took the enormous amount of tangled thoughts in my head and restated it so I could hear what I was feeling--out loud. It made more sense that way.

What I can say about all of this--panic attacks, therapy, recovery--is that it's a process. I don't expect to be beamingly happy all the time. What I do is expect is an uncomfortable next few months to face truths about myself that maybe I've been avoiding, or unaware of. I am so ready for this. Another thing my therapist picked up on about me? She asked, "You really like challenges, don't you?" Oh yes, yes I do! And I'm also really good at getting help when I need it. I can give myself a gold star for that.

Lastly, it's not so easy sharing this with everyone. To be honest, it's opening up a very private part of myself to the whole internet. I mean...should I title this post, "A Trip Into Ashley's Psyche"? Although it's not easy sharing this, it's necessary. And considering the amount of e-mails I got from people going through the same, well, we're in this together! And I think it's time we talk about it:

We are NOT RIDICULOUS for loving travel, the expat life, and discovering different cultures. This is who we are. We are NOT RIDICULOUS for feeling anxious. This is how life is sometimes! I will not apologize for being me, and nor should you apologize for being you!

What I will work on is voicing how I feel instead of remaining silent. More often than not I find, it's getting better all time. 

Life is Like a 'Choose Your Own Ending' Book

I used to read those Goosebumps books where you get to the end of the page, and it said something to the effect of, "If you opened the door to the car, go to page 34. If you walked down the trail instead, go to page 61." Surely Goosebumps wasn't the only book to do this, I was just an avid fan of theirs (the 90s!), so it instantly comes to mind.

I always loved those "choose your own ending" books. Even at the age of 8, I liked the idea of being in control of my decisions, fictional or not. They were better than the books that told me how things ought to end.

My precociousness faded a little once puberty hit, and I started listening to all the usual subscriptions for life, including keeping my actual subscriptions to seventeen and YM magazine, which always had articles on, "How to Make Him Like You by Changing Yourself." ...I'm pretty sure that was the actual title. I mean, every so often they'd have a girl power post, but it would quickly fade into the background amongst the articles on new fall trends and Britney Spears' abs.

I started learning early that I should start comparing myself to others. This process has continued ever since. And it happens to most of us, and not just to women. We see someone getting married, having babies, getting a promotion, moving abroad, etc. and we feel it in the pit of our stomachs. Why aren't I in that place? What is the matter with me? We silently replay these questions in our heads.

Thankfully, 8-year-old Ashley always swims to the surface of my deluded mind during these times, and reminds me of what I knew all along: I am exactly where I should be at this time and this place in my life. It's my own damn story, anyway! Furthermore, I am extremely pleased with where all of my friends are, whether it includes babies, marriage or new cities. Besides, what's the purpose of a bookstore that only carries one story? How boring that would be! We were made to have many different endings.

I turn 28 in a couple days, and I am content with where I am: single, living in London, completing a Master's (eek!), following my dreams, and...choosing my own ending. And we're not even to the end, yet.

Lusting After a Life In the Slums

***

You heard me right.

This post is actually inspired by something said in my friend Ryan's post: "Because we were at the bar, we've met cool people, including a guy tonight who expressed dismay at the whole typical American cycle where we make money and then spend money, but how he was over that and it wasn't making him happy."

Whenever I hear quotes like this, I think, "They've figured it out!"

We all figure it out eventually: money is insatiable. Of course, we are caught in some strange vortex in where we need money, but don't want to need money, yet must continue the arbitrary cycle of making it. For what? For what??

...

Give me the slums. Give me a life in where I'm not coaxed into buying a flat screen T.V. because it's more in style than the perfectly good T.V. I had before. Give me a home in where I realize that electricity is not-so-necessary (it's not). Give me a dream in where I'm not looking to put a down-payment on my house, but rather, put an extra stamp on my passport.

Because I've become un-enamored with pretty houses and fast cars...

So, give me the slums.

Why do I say the slums? Because every documentary/movie/video I have seen in a poverty-stricken area shows a group of people that have figured it out: community is the most precious gem in life. It is the rarest of diamonds that we take for granted here in the U.S., mostly because we are distracted by what wealth can by.

I'll leave you with this video. I'd love to visit such a place:

What Is Your Thirteenth Floor?

I'm currently reading Strength to Love, and let me tell you, it is one fantastic journey to dive into the mind of the incomparable Martin Luther King Jr.

As I was sifting through some pages this morning, I found one excerpt that really struck me. While MLK was riding up an elevator in New York, he noticed that the thirteenth floor had been removed. He recounts the story:

"On inquiring from the elevator operator the reason for this omission, he said, 'This practice is followed by most large hotels because of the fear of numerous people to stay on the thirteenth floor.' Then he added, 'The real foolishness of the fear is to be found in the fact that the fourteenth floor is actually the thirteenth.'"

A few questions I asked myself here:

What is my thirteenth floor?

Am I afraid of it because I have been socialized to be afraid of it?

What do I use as my fourteenth floor cover-up?

I think this quote says a lot about our society's soft mindedness and willingness to believe anything we are told. MLK is simply asking us to see through the bullshit (paraphrased in less eloquent words).

Do you discern your way to the truth? Or do you choose to be fooled by half-truths?

The Anti-List

I absolutely loved this idea from Molly, so I had to post on it.

"The Anti-List" is a list one makes of things he or she has bravely (or not so bravely) tried and decided THEY DON'T LIKE.

As Molly puts it, it's about embracing who you are and who you aren't. So, without anymore unnecessary rambling, my anti-list:

• Sushi: Everyone and their Uncle Joe tries to get me to like Sushi. At the end of the day, my opinion stands: I DON'T LIKE RAW FISH. You can try to cover it in cream cheese, add hot sauce, seaweed, or any other distractor you'd like. I've tried it all and nothing has worked. If we go to a Sushi place, I'll order the Chicken Teriyaki and a Saporro, thanks.

• Mayonaise: I will only eat this in chicken salad. That's it. It's pretty nasty, otherwise.

• Going on Droppy Amusement Rides: Not sure what else to call them, I just know that I cringe when I see those rides that take you up to the highest of heights, only to drop you. DROPPY RIDES ARE THE DEVIL. I don't like heights! I'll do rollercoasters, but please, stop trying to convince me to go on these god-forsaken rides with you. I find no enjoyment from them, and don't appreciate being called a "sissy-pants" for not attempting.

• Pink (the color): Just because I am a chick, doesn't mean I am obligated to like this annoying and ridiculous color. Please don't assume that I want the pink straw or the pink t-shirt because I am female. Even when I was five years old, I was already savvy to the frivolity of pink. BAN PINK!

• Being Set-Up: No, I do not want to go out with your brother, whom you think 'is perfect' for me. Please stop scouting out men on my behalf. I'm not incapable, I'm just disinterested in going about love in a such a contrived matter. Because I relate to Jason Mraz when he says,"When I fall in love/I'll take my time/there's no need to hurry when I'm making up my mind." I'll never be able to rush or force these things. Love is already complicated enough, shouldn't it happen naturally?

• House Music: No. Just No. It's far too repetitive and annoying to stand much of that crap.

• Pity Parties: get. over. it. I don't indulge in this dramatic behavior. Mourning is ok, but then you need to get out of the funk, sister (or brother)! Don't hold on to what wasn't meant to be.

What are you anti?

The Way God Intended It

I find this picture extremely beautiful...

credit

It is a picture of Christians protecting Muslims during their prayers (in Egypt, I believe).

I love this. It is beyond words.

Books N' Movies & Books That Turn Into Movies

That title is kind of a mouthful.

Anyway, I was watching the Bounty Hunter a couple nights ago (wait till it comes out on DVD, not worth the theater price), and they had theeeeee trailer I have been anticipating. Or fearing.

It was for Eat, Pray, Love.

Now...here's the thing: the trailer looked all well and good. It really did. It's hard to go too wrong with Juila Roberts. BUT. I absolutely adore that book! Seriously, that book has occupied a little space in my little heart, because I love it so. Therefore, I cringe at the thought of it being turned into a movie because:

1. They (and when I say "they," I mean Hollywood) could mess up the premise completely. This book is about spirituality. Make no mistake. If they somehow turn the plot into Elizabeth Gilbert (the author) going on a glorified vacation and encountering romantic mishaps, then they've missed the whole lesson of the book.
2. I'm afraid people will go see the movie instead of reading the book. Which, they will. That saddens me. There's something magical about this book, in BOOK form. There's something magical about reading in general.
3. I'm afraid this memoir won't translate well into movie form. I wonder if they've kept her keen sense of humor in the script. Hopefully there is some narration to incorporate that. It makes me wonder what they may have changed in the plot to make it a movie.

With that said, I'll probably go see it, cursing at every scene that they get wrong. Hopefully, HOPEFULLY, some movie-goers will we prompted to read the book after they see the film. Let's hope they do justice to the book.

***

While we are on the subject of movies, I just wanted to tell you that I have finally watched Breakfast at Tiffany's. I loved it. Audrey Hepburn embodies everything classic, beautiful and stunning to me. She didn't have to fake-tan or bare her breasts to prove that she was gorgeous.

I am disgusted at what our society finds beautiful today. I wish we could go back in time to where Holly GoLightly reigned supreme in the beauty realm--where personality, brains and grace still fit into the equation of what's "hot."

MJ and I go way back.

I went dancing for a little last night (after eating an ice cream sundae at Ghiradelli's)...now that's a good night!

I noticed that it is now popular to play Michael Jackson in the clubs.

How funny, when I used to have to beg DJs to play MJ just a few short months ago. You hear that kiddies?!? I didn't need his death to capture my attention and go, "Wow, that Michael has some great dance songs..."

I KNEW IT ALL ALONG, fools.

The life of a trend setter is hard *brushes dirt off of shoulder*

M.J. the Legend

I'm still a little weirded out by Michael's death. Only cause ever since I can remember, he seemed larger than life to me. Since my birth, Michael has been the M.V.P. of pop music--I grew up knowing him to be the definition of pop. So in a way, it feels like the death of a force of nature, somehow.

Even though he pulled some crazy stunts, I always felt sorry for the guy. Who can handle that much fame at such a young age and turn out okay?

He's gone earlier than I thought he would be, but I suppose a tragic life begets a tragic death.

My top five Michael/Jackson 5 songs: "Never Can Say Goodbye," "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough," "Billie Jean," Who's Lovin' You," and "Beat It."

"Billie Jean" is the best, hands down, and is easily in my top 10 favorite songs from any artist.

P.S. Being sad over a celebrity's death is not pathetic. Just like any person you run across in life, a celebrity has the power to move us, even if we don't know them personally. I believe this especially goes for musicians, authors, artists and the like.

What a Mighty Good Man

Have come to the conclusion that I could adopt the two cutest little boys at my work, never marry, and be completely content with that. Because I'm pretty sure husbands are more work than kids, so can I just skip that step?

Hehehe. All I'm sayin' is...I don't need a man. They are good for somethings, but I don't need 'em.

That's a good place to be, I think. And yeah, I'm diggin' on Cutie with the Glasses, but that's all it is so far...I will not be one of those girls that lets a man dictate/run/control her every thought and life.

Besides, there are two little kindergartners that have my heart.

Why not add one more post?

I'm on a roll today with posting, I guess. haha. So here's one more poem. There's not a title yet, and maybe it needs to be edited. Eh, but here you go:

I refuse, I most ardently refuse
to bow down to this world
a planet full of ventriloquits
that urges me to be the puppet

Still I refuse, I adamantly refuse
to succumb to your constant messages
messaging me, constantly
washing my brain, stripping it of any color
individualism
intelligence
it is proud to carry

Yes, I refuse, I must completely refuse
to be a junkie of your lies
that if maybe I was the perfect size
had those suede designer boots
kept up with dying my roots
just maybe he'd find me cute

I refuse, I really have to refuse
to be abused
when there's so much more to this woman
who only bows down to the real king
who cares not about her looks, her job, her car, her clothes
but cares only
about the depth of her soul

I refuse, with everything inside of me, I refuse
to believe in anything other than the truth.

Can you take me to...Funkytown?

I started feeling better as the day proceeded. Maybe cause I've been dancing--I got Robyn's CD. You know...the chick I was giving praise to a couple posts ago? yeah, that one.

The CD is ultra funky, and I can't help but dance dance dance while I'm listening to it (one of my favorite activities). The beats are intricate but intoxicating. Funky is definitely the word for this album.

Music always makes me happier. Always. Lovin' it!

Sudafed was my best friend this weekend.

I went to my friend's wedding this week. It was mostly nice, but a little too contrived for my taste. So much so that the bride almost fainted and looked stressed most of the time (because of the rigorous schedule and 3 HOURS it took to take pictures after the ceremony).

I don't want my wedding to be yet another thing that has to be done a "certain way." People get too caught up in being just like everyone else. Sometimes it's too much.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention...I definitely got hit on at the wedding by this guy named Harlie. Well, maybe not hit on, but he was definitely trying to get my attention (and told everyone he thought I was cute, so they then tried to set me up with him).

As stated earlier, I do not like contrived things, so I wasn't having it. He asked for my number by the end of the night, and I told him I don't like talking on the phone (which is true), but he could be my friend on facebook (good ol' internet).

Of course, I checked my inbox today and guess who I have a friend request from? Yep, the guy works fast.

Anyway, to change subjects, for the last 4 days I've been deathly ill. And during the summer? That never happens. I relaized it's because I've been spending too much time indoors applying for jobs and not getting enough fresh air. I've come to the conclusion that I'm going to start walking my applications to businesses so:

1. I get my fresh summer air
2. I'm still applying
3. Businesses get to see me, which can't hurt, right?
4. Why not put a little exercise in the mix?

All of this = Ashley will no longer be sick. Yay!

Liberation! (kind-of)

So I woke up late this morning for class (ha...what's new?). I had to rush to class in a frenzy without taking a shower.

Oh, and I didn't have a bra on. Which was a little weird at first, then realllllllllly comfortable. I'm surprised I liked going braless so much.

Eh, don't worry, I'm not gonna start buring my bras or any of that nonsense...it was just fun for a morning.

Now I'm off to take a shower, YAY!