dear fourteen old self,

life will be nothing like you thought it would be.
but it will still be okay.

you will not have those twins and that marriage at twenty-five
and you know what?
you are better off without.
this will become very obvious on that one day you are running late (what else is new?) and it is minus 40 out (what else is new?) and you shove your still wet hair into a wool toque and race outside.
there is no way you could have gotten yourself plus two small children out the door 25 minutes earlier.
and there is something sort of beautiful about that.

to your surprise, you will actually be a skeptic of marriage.
in the end, it isn't for you.
but  you know what is?
love is.
finding someone to really see and finding someone who really sees you back.
that search will outshine any white dress and gold band.

people will hurt you. immensely.
they will not apologize.
forgive them anyway
because, at the end of the day, you are the one who bears the burden.
you are the one who stays up wondering how someone could be so tactless, so hurtful, so terribly rude...
and then, well, then they have really won.
don't let them.
let it slide like water off a duck's back.
they will have to live each day knowing that they are tactless, hurtful and terribly rude.
and doesn't that just burn?

once you walk out of those dreadful teenage years, you will begin to see that only what you think matters.
no one else.
people are stubborn and slightly delusional. they will believe something because they want to. and they will create their reasoning and their proof for that belief in their head. and they will not sway.
and you know what?
it is not your job to make them sway.
you are not here to persuade. 
you are here to flourish.
so do just that.

because i have nothing to say

but so much to ponder...


"And I believe in love. And beauty. I believe that every single person has something they find beautiful and that they truly love. The smell of their child's hair, the silence of a forest, their lover's crooked grin. Their country, their religion, their family. And I believe that if you follow this love all the way to its end, if you start with the thing you find most beautiful and trace its perfume back to its essence, you will perceive an intangible presence, a swath of stillness that allows the thing you love to be visible like  the openness of the sky reveals the presence of the moon"

- Geneen Roth, Women Food and God

seven

7. If you’re employed in any capacity, open a savings account. You never know when you might be unemployed or in desperate need of getting away for a few days. Even $10 a week is $520 more a year than you would’ve had otherwise.

as a child, there was nothing i wanted more than financial independence.
i disliked that my mum had to buy my jelly sandals (am i dating myself here?)
i loathed that people had to care for me financially.
it did not seem fair.
i wanted to care for me.

it was nothing short of frustrating
and i needed a solution.

off i went to my mini kitchen to ponder.
oh, yes, i had a mini kitchen.
i ran a make believe household.
it was practically effortless what with all the non-existent meal preparation, plastic children who did not move nor speak and the spotless, never-been-used utensils.

what is so damn hard about this being a "mom" thing?
it seems pretty simple. 

i played house just as much as any young girl is encouraged to do.
i had dolls that were my kids and i cooed
and i fed and i burped and i changed their clothes
and then i set them down
and i went to work.

yes, that was my solution.
i gave myself a job because i damn well could.

i was a veterinarian.
a very very serious veterinarian.
some times i was a teacher but usually, i was a vet.
and i would pull out my little toiletry case filled with pedicure tools
and i would puncture my stuffed animals (vaccinations!)
and i would wrap their little paws in paper (casts!)
and i would comfort them when their tummies ached (too many treats?!)

even thick into socialization, i made sure i had a job.
and a damn good one.
financial independence was always important to me
and it still is.

i wish i could say that i saved as much as i could
as soon as i landed my first gig a day after sixteen
but i didn't.
i did not think that far ahead.

i was somewhere between a make believe vet and a lost high school student.
but it is never too late.
it is never too late to tap into that young child who was so dedicated to her make believe vet practice that she skipped lunch and fell asleep on the job.
she dreamt of a big breezy office, happiness and the kind of freedom that comes from knowing when to spend and knowing when to save.
it took her years to know the difference.
and, to be honest, she is still learning.

surrendering

i cannot meditate worth a damn.

i tried. so many times.
people who meditate seem so well put together

i could be them.

or so i thought.

my first meditation class can only be described as pure hell.
i was hungry (read: bored)
my foot was asleep
my low back ached
and there were raucous children just outside the window

this is good

the teacher said.

this is good practice. these kids will help you get deeper into what is supposed to be happening here.

in the end, all i wanted was to go was find those children
and open up a serious dialogue about tomfoolery.

i recently tried again.
two minutes in..
my foot was asleep..
i readjusted
another minutes goes by..
my other foot is asleep..
i am cussing in my head
i desperately want a snack.
how do people even do this?
what is the point of being well put together, anyway?
i am a mess.
i am a god damn mess.

i opened my eyes and was pretty damn sure it had been 45 minutes.

it had been five.

you may wonder why on earth i subjected myself to meditation over and over again

it is because i am searching for the voice
there is some sort of voice that functions on some sort of level that appears at some sort of time and says really profound things about life.
far fetched, right?
i don't seem to mind.
i want the damn voice.
and so it came as a shock when the voice appeared rather unannounced.

there was a brief time of my life where i would wake up at 3 am

three in the morning

there was nothing around that would wake me
i would just wake up.
and moments later, the anxiety would kick in
and low and behold, i would be brewing a pot of tea at 3:30 am.

one morning, i awoke

three in the morning

blink blink
and stared at the ceiling
just about to beg and plead and barter with no one in particular

what do you want? what is it? i will do whatever you want. just let me sleep.

and it said

go back to bed, brittany.

and i did.
and the 3 am wake up calls stopped.

yes, i believe this was my sought-after encounter with the voice.
the ever-so-allusive voice.
and i have been thinking about it a lot as of late because there are so many things that i want
so many aspirations and so many goals and so much love
and i just decided...
what if i stop?
what if i let whatever-the-hell-i-am-supposed-to-be-looking-for find me?

to surrender is frightening  but i am not sure i have ever felt so alive.

so...
dear universe,
i am yours.
do with me as you wish.
love,
brittany