I hate multitasking, but I do it anyway. I always half-ass my work when I multitask. No matter what, I cannot give 100% to three or four different goals at the same time. When I was growing up, multitasking was all the rage, but now I think people are starting to understand that dividing attention when working on something important might not be the best idea.

I’m multitasking right now. I’m writing this blog, talking to someone about an upcoming trip, thinking about all of my belongings I need to pack for this upcoming trip, checking my itinerary, my hotel reservation, my boarding passes, my passport, etc. I’m multitasking to distract myself from my anxious energy.

My anxiety is coming from several different places. The one that is front-and-center right now is a page I am working on that I don’t feel like I am contributing to well. I believe in this page, I love what it stands for and what it is trying to create, but my fear of my inadequacy has kept me from doing outreach and adding value.

I think in some ways, public education really made it easy for me to tear myself down. I have noticed that many of my peers outside of the school I went to have a lot more constructive opinions on my work than most of my teachers did. My constant worry that I am not adding value to the projects I work on may stem from the overwhelming pressure I felt to compare myself to others and my past self. These ideas of measurement all came from public education. I see them as a failure of assessment.

From now on, I want to only focus on improving my communication skills without judging my past mistakes. They have inhibited me so far, making me feel incapable of even trying something new. It is time to let them go and realize that they are products of a system that never wanted to help me.



Bittersweet and short

I had a ballet class today that made me feel like a new person. I love the teacher, her style, her passion, her aggression towards injustices within the ballet world, etc. Her class lifted my spirits after two and a half weeks of nonstop travel. However, it also made me very sad to remember that it was the last class I would ever take with her.

I haven’t taken many classes with her. She was diagnosed with an auto-immune disorder when I had first started dancing, so she was out of commission for the earlier part of my ballet training. When she came back, her teaching reminded me of how much I enjoy the musicality and inflection that ballet should express. So many other teachers get caught in repetition and technique, that they forget that the audience has no concept of 180 degrees of rotation. They only want to see beauty and feeling through movement.

I’ll miss her. I wish I could take her with me so she could continue to support me in what I know will be a difficult transition. I truly hope I am wrong, and that this was not my last class with her.


Have Your Elephant, and Eat it Too.

I’m moving much sooner than I thought. The elephant of packing up my life and settling in another country has been weighing on me. I’ve known for a long time that I needed to start planning and packing for this new phase of my life, but I have been ignoring it for the sake of my own comfort. So, this elephant has been sitting in my room for a while, and now I need to eat it. Double metaphor, take that College Board.

Today, I packed up my entire closet. I had quite a large closet and kept the majority of my property in it, so this was a big task to tackle. I slowly picked through my clothing, putting a decent amount in donation bags, another decent amount in trash bags, and the majority of it in moving boxes. They’re sitting behind me on my dresser, all eight of them, reminding me that I will leave this room for the last time in just a few days.

I left my elephant alone for too long, perhaps not wanting to acknowledge how exciting but frightening it’s presence was. In all honesty, I am overjoyed that I am moving. I don’t think I ever honestly felt at home in the area I live. With that being said, I sometimes wonder if I will ever find a place that feels as warm and comforting as a home should. Will it be Montreal? I doubt it. I don’t think I am lucky enough to move once and be satisfied. I am far too transient for that.

Have your elephant, and eat it too. Not because you want to, but because the world beckons you onto bigger and better things. I said goodbye to one of my mentors today, I could hear the pain in his voice when I told him I was leaving on the 20th. He has become a figure I can look up to, someone who inspires me and motivates me to work harder in pursuit of my dreams. The phone call was by far our shortest, most likely due to the immense ache of loss we both felt. I will miss him, I know I will see him again, but I will still miss him.

Change is not one elephant, it is many small bitter elephants that pop up when you least expect them. The elephant of walking away, the elephant of saying goodbye, the elephant of last steps, last hugs, last laughs, last moments of memory and nostalgia. The elephant in my room is slowly chipped away at by the knife and fork of transition.

To comfort myself, I like to think that change is the only constant in life. It reminds me to find peace in unpredictability.


A Guarantee

There is always one person in this world who loves you. You probably know them, although you may not. They might be present in your life, or they might cheer you on in a more subtle manner. They are still there, waiting for you to remember how dear you are to them.

You will always love at least one person. I hope you will always love yourself, but I hope you will still have another person to love as well. I guarantee that love will make your life fuller. Dark times will come, but love, true love, is able to brighten any bad day.

This is not a new idea, but I like to reiterate old ideas sometimes. Lately, I found myself forgetting that someone loved me. I think I subconsciously pushed them away because I was angry that I didn’t try harder to be around them, to spend more time with them. I made one mistake and said “well this is over now! I’d better throw in the towel.”

I forgot that love takes time. Love takes time to grow and time to chip away at. One mistake won’t ruin years of a relationship. I find it difficult to remember that errors are what make us human, not unforgivable. I have acknowledged my mistake, apologized for it, cried for it, understood it, and vowed to never make it again. I think in the process of doing so, my relationship with the person I love has already gotten stronger.


This Funk

I’m in a funk. It’s the truth, I’m not my usual self. Things have felt off ever since I graduated. I’ve traveled farther in the last 30 days than I ever have before, and I believe it’s taking a toll on me.

There are a lot of other things taking a toll on me as well. However, I do not think those things are worth writing about. They require a lot of emotional energy that I am not willing to exert, especially for those specific reasons. This funk has me down, it has me question whether or not I should keep trying to do what I want to do.

I have some plans and some paths I could take to find my way out of this funk, but all of them require time and patience. Two qualities I feel as though I lack. I can’t create time and my patience has been worn down by years of irrelevant education. I want to shake this feeling of failure, but I have to acknowledge and accept that it will be here tomorrow.

The best things in life usually take time. There are exceptions, but rushed processes generally don’t sustain well. I’m allowing this funk to be here, but it doesn’t impede my work or make me unproductive. All it does it make me ask questions I didn’t have before. It’s got me down, but hopefully, I’ll come out of it with a better idea of what I want.


Write Your Truth

Someone I look up to once said: “we all speak our truth, whether we know it or not.” I found a lot of comfort in that, in knowing that my truth was always there, supporting me. It’s one thing to speak and know that what you actually mean is there, either in the shadows or in the light, but it’s another thing to write it.

Writing your truth is difficult. Through writing, you can manipulate your reality. In writing, there is no body language, no inflection of the voice (if you so chose), no atmosphere or gauge of tension that is present in a conversation. As writers, we must learn to write the truth that stands behind the curtain we rely on when we talk. We must fearlessly present our ideas, or we risk lying to the world and to ourselves.

You have every right to lie. To hide behind what you want the world to see yourself as, what you want your truth to be. Maybe you’re lying because you think it will change your reality. I believe this is flawed; perhaps it worked for you, but I don’t think it’s sustainable. There is a peace that comes with acknowledging and accepting your current situation, especially if you’re unsatisfied with it.

Write your truth, write it boldly, write it with passion and emotion, write it uncomfortably, write it to feel vulnerable, write it to give hope, write it to find it. Write to release your anger, your fear, your frustration, your dissatisfaction, your heartbreak, and your destruction. Writing is cathartic. There is something beautiful about offering a piece of your heart to an audience, to a group of people who you may never meet or know.

I write these blogs selfishly. They have become a nightly ritual and something I look forward to. After getting over the fear of it, I have come to appreciate that I can write my truth. I have a desire to be honest with the world, even when it doesn’t ask me to.


New Jobs

My Cleveland trip is winding down. This particular one has taken a lot out of me, so I’m going to keep this blog short.

I’ve been asked and have asked myself to take on a lot of new jobs and responsibilities lately. I find that nothing scares me more than the realization that I don’t know how to do something. I believe I have been trained to think that a lack of immediate knowledge or proficiency means failure.

It will take time for me to lose the panic that comes with feeling unskilled or ignorant, but it will fade eventually. I think we all must take time to remind ourselves that no one is born knowing how to write good emails or reports, how to plan articles, how to dance ballet, or how to tell a story. We are all in a constant state of learning.

For now, I will make it a goal to embrace the unknown. At least I will know that there is always something new to experience and discover.