Building a Mystery

In this jigsaw puzzle, she holds tightly to the place where she belongs.

She fits here; her curves and arcs lock nicely into her lot in life.

It’s an understanding that is supposed to solidify with time;

A safeguarding that allows for peace and understanding of the pieces of existence around her.

Instead, after time, she finds her curves unlike they used to be.

Desperately clawing to maintain her monotony, she falls out of place to the horror of her own desperation.

Out in this desert land of diversity, the air feels surprisingly smooth on her exterior.

She tastes and smells the allure of this bold undertaking and the sovereignty it brings.

Sweet breezes of new experience kiss her eyelashes with promises of a new existence to follow.

The vice grip of fear that used to hold a violent love affair with her now slowly drips away.

Her lot fading, she fights to understand, clinging still to the outskirts of familiarity.

She holds on to something she should let go of, and lets go of ideals she should cling to,

And so causing a discouraging heartache that like a parasite, exploits her helpless vulnerability.

She anxiously forces her curves to click into her old life.

But her shape is melting away in this new environment.

The foreign landscape continues to morph, to her adoration and horror.

She turns to explain,

But no one is there.

She flips and flops from one side to the other trying desperately to still fit.

Why, oh why doesn’t she fit?

"Do you not understand?

Oh please, won’t you please understand? Let me explain to you, ….

Are you even listening?"

Maybe, just maybe she decides, she’ll wander and hop and skip throughout other lots…

She will click into the world around her, and experience life on the other side for a while..

Then she can certainly come back and life will continue on in its Disneyworld of familiarity.

But during this investigation of a new life to be lived,

The best thing possible happens,

Her sweet taste of life outside her confines of home permanently change the shape of her soul. …

And instead of squeezing into her old lot, she fits quite nicely into her new world instead.

She smiles, seeing clearly for the first time that she was cursing a dream come true.

Her fairy godmother was tipping her wand in the right direction all along,

But she just couldn’t see.

She was holding her blinders so tightly that all she could perceive was darkness.

       ...........

Time to let go now, dear puzzled piece of mine.

You are still holding too tightly to a lot not your own.

You are still damning your uniqueness.

In lifetimes before, these other pieces may have fit around you like a glove, but to hold them now would suffocate the very atmosphere that pervades your heaven.

This is a transformation that is meant to be,

For without this realization,

You surely would never go.

You would never forgo this lot in life for the quest of deeper blues and splendid curves.

You would never see.

It’s time now to take off the blinders, Dear Enigma.

It’s time to merge with a larger whole.

my world on my shoulders...

Today I decided that I needed to do a test run. I have my packing list, I have my 75 L backpack; time to see how much STUFF this sucker can pack in. I mean…LOOK AT IT!

It’s HUGE! All these people who’ve “been there done that” all say, “pack what you would need for every possible situation, for ONE day. One of each. ONE of EACH?!?! Yeah. Right. That person probably looked like a backpacker. I refuse to look like a backpacker. Gapyear.com says to “forget the hairdryer and straightener, only pack essential makeup”. Never in my life. I’m sorry, but people judge you on your appearance. You judge others on their appearance. I refuse to be walking around the romantic streets of Paris in cut-off capris and my hair in a sloppy bun because I can’t do anything else with it. So that’s that. I’m bringing my damn hairdryer. Try and stop me.

 

So this is my pack with MOST of what was on my list. What in the HELL happened??? Where did all that space go?!? (*insert pouty face here). So I took jeans and micro fleece off my list, but everything else stays, so help me god. The pack weighs 32 lbs. My whole life is in that pack. I couldn’t help but feel a little nervous and Closter phobic when I clicked the waist band around me.  32 lbs may not sound like much, but I’m telling you, it's heavy.  Ok, if you were curious, here is my list.

 

I pair of shorts                                                                                                                              1 yoga pants, 1 beach shorts

1 pair of capris                                                                                                                              1 big/sleeping tee

7 dresses (two beach “cover-ups”)                                                                        1 shower/beach flops

2 night/cocktail dresses                                                                                                            1 walking flops (nice ones)

5 tops, 1 black with sleeves                                                                                          1 hiking shoes

1 jacket                                                                                                                                                1 heels                 

1 nice scarf

 

1 travel towel                                                                                                                              1 umbrella                 

1 poncho                                                                                                                              day purse/ cocktail purse

7 pairs underwear                                                                                                            1 black bra

2 socks (one thick/long)                                                                                                            1 nude/strapless bra

2 swimsuits                                                                                                                              1 sports bra

 

med kit

earplugs, flashlight, watch with alarm

toiletry bag (which is big and HEAVY)

Bug spray with DEET

 

HAIRDRYER                                                                                                                              pillowcase

Jewelry bag                                                                                                                              silk sleep sak

Electric converter +plugs                                                                                                            carry-on bag

Bag cover +lock                                                                                                                              cameras and gorilla pod

Cards                                                                                                                                                 book to read

Notebook                  travel organizer+copies+extra passport photos

 

 

How about THAT for a list!!! I have to bring that amount of dresses because they pack up small and will be my major clothing items. So that’s it, and it ALL fits.. (barely). Souvenirs will be collected at each stop and sent home when they start taking up room.

 

 I walked around my apartment with the pack on for a while. It was quite the sight to see! If I leaned backwards at all I thought I would topple over. (don’t worry grandma, I’ll be getting plenty of massages in Thailand!!) It felt like I had a very large monkey wrapped around my back. 32 lbs… 32 lbs of my life, on my back, for the next … 6 months. Hopefully after that I’ll have a place to call home in Australia for a while and can unpack my bags and put up my feet for a while. Who knows though, that could happen anywhere! The world is my oyster J

"The dreamers are the saviors of the world... Composer, sculptor, painter, poet, prophet, sage, these are the makers of the after-world, the architects of heaven. The world is beautiful because they have lived; without them, laboring humanity would perish.

Those who cherish a beautiful vision, a lofty ideal in their hearts, will one day realize it. 

Cherish your visions; cherish your ideals; cherish the music that stirs in your heart, the beauty that forms in your mind... if you remain true to them, your world will at last be built. 

The thoughtless, the ignorant, the lazy... talk of luck, of fortune.. Seeing someone grow rich, they say, "How lucky they are!!"

They do not see the trials and failures and struggles that these men and women have voluntarily encountered in order to gain their experience; they have no knowledge of the sacrifices they have made... the faith they have exercised.. that they might overcome the apparently insurmountable and realize the vision of their heart.

The vision you glorify in your mind, the ideal that you enthrone in your heart - this you will build your life by, and this you will become."   As You Think by James Allen (*Originally "As a Man Thinketh" )

Written over 100 years ago in 1904, this book has become my harbor, my bible if you will. Its' words ring with power and truth, and have given inspiration and motivation to the masses through some very complicated years in this country and throughout others. 

I have a love affair with books. People often ask me, "Why don't you just go to the library??". Yes, that would be wise. I thought the other day about guesstimating how much money I've spent on books, but the number would be meaningless in comparison to the insight and joy I've received from them in return. I want to be surrounded by books, I want to feel their words, dream their dreams. Books take you into another world, they can open your eyes, touch your heart. I love their smell, I love the feel of their pages on my fingertips. I've thought about getting one of those electronic books, and you can just download the pages onto your equipment and off you go! No thanks. I need to feel the weight of its words, the influence of its truth; hold it in my hands and decorate my home with its' life. 

I look forward to days and years ahead as this affair continues, and possibly a book with my very own name on it. I'm not quite sure what I'll say throughout hundreds of pages that will make it a success, but I don't doubt for a second that it will come to me. I can feel it in the depth of my cells. It's in my blood. I write every day, it's my passion; stories, craving, obsession, words, life. I want to breathe fire into my message and touch the lives of others with its' vibrant enthusiasm. I believe one day this will no longer be a dream. 

One of my patients is a celebrated artist here in Chicago and also in New York. She rid of her last name and just has one, very long, name. She is eccentric and electric and original and every time she comes in I ask her 'one more time' to explain her art. I don't really understand it but what I did understand was her definition and opinion of art. She says to me, "Art is nothing more than creating something that allows its viewers to see something in a light they have never considered before." 

"Where do you come up with your art? What is your inspiration?" I ask her. 

She shrugs and replies, "Its a deep need." 

I understand completely.

 I just renewed my lease for 90 days. I buy my RTW ticket in a couple weeks. Walking though the city I thought to myself, "My God, this is actually happening.."

I have never felt stronger about anything. This is really happening. I think back at all the years of denial and laugh. Really, when it comes to dreams, how could a spirit this strong be extinguished?

A poem I wrote about a dear friend, it is based on her at one point in her life, but it is not her. It is for frustrated dreamers. 

She sighs heavy with frustration

too tired to hold the weight of everything she is,

and everything she is not.

Her eyes search desperately for an answer

an answer that cannot be found

an answer that explains the hole she's in

something that will make it all worth it.

She buries herself in her work, filling her already exhausted mind with endless meanings

anything to drown the numbing pain.

She can feel her true self

trying to breathe through the muddled mask

she is stuck between two crushing boulders

one with empty promises of joy today

the other with fulfillment in a better tomorrow..

a tomorrow that may never come.

Easy living is a dream she's buried now

writing rules of hardship and sacrifice

Burning her passion to the ground

she settles for a life that fulfills all but her own heart.

If only, if only that was enough.

But life is all about choices.

No one ever said it was easy,

but all have said it was worth 

every. tear.

This is your life, Dear Dream

don't die by omission.

Please don't let your passion burn out.

I can see the pain in your eyes

I can feel your frustration in every teardrop.

Love your pain, Dear friend..

It is your guidance, your angel

Your pain is your helping hand

pushing you in the right direction.

Shoot for your stars, Dear Jessica

For without them, 

life is unworthy of you.

Seeing Clearly

“ I would much rather have regrets about not doing what people said, than regretting not doing what my heart led me to and wondering what my life had been like…

 If I had just been myself..”

 

I didn’t know. I saw the angry and frustrated parts of me seeping out at all the wrong times.. but I didn’t know why. Now I know why. Last night I read my diaries from the last couple years, and I really saw myself clearly for the first time in a while. I saw all the rationalizations, all the confusion, all the denial, all at once.

 If you were to come up to me and say, “Jillian, you don’t celebrate differences” I believe I would laugh in your face. I celebrate all differences… I love all things in the name of ‘different’. I love different people, I love different cultures, different food. I am ecstatic to be exploring in different cities and surroundings. I celebrate differences…  apparently all but my own.

 Last night I read my words from year after year; words that tried to figure out who I am, tried to figure out and re-shape this longing that I couldn’t ignore… but couldn’t accept either.

All this effort, all this time. Looking through all my old journals, I’ve been writing about the same things over and over again. For YEARS. … for three long years… journals that have been denying who I really am, trying to ignore my dreams and find some sort of middle ground that satisfied my longing and yet felt… safer, more logical.  Over and over again it’s the same thing… trying to think of a new dream, something less scary and mysterious. Trying to figure out the unhappiness in my life. Trying to fill the void.

  I kept searching to my own frustration for an answer that could not be found. Thinking, thinking, thinking way too much. .. And ignoring the answer that was right in front of me all along.

 “ I must be running, I have a thirst for something else, I’m proving, maybe I just want to be married, I’m scared, I’m scared. Maybe I should go back to school, maybe I should move to California, maybe I should move to Colorado. Maybe I should stay with this guy, maybe I’m asexual for not wanting this great guy in front of me. What’s wrong with me..?”

 I’ve FORCED so much life during this time by ignoring my own. Its CRAZY how ignoring ONE THING can upset your whole life that much. The answer was right in front of me for years and by ignoring it I created a whirlwind of confusion.

 “I’m doing it. No turning back now! No regrets!”

and then..

 “I’m not doing it. Its just habit to think about it. I must not know how to be content. I must be running from something… I can’t go. I should stay here and be with this man because I shouldn’t … I can’t.. “

 In one journal where I’m trying to say that I can’t go because this dream is being used to “complete” me, I say, “the travel dream pops in my head every day. But 90% of what you think today is habit. Just recycled thoughts and connections from yesterday”.

 I think it comes from being young, and from doing something that isn’t laid out for you. I just didn’t understand myself, I didn’t know why I had this dream and NO ONE else did. I felt so different that I convinced myself that there must be something wrong with me.

 The past 7 months I have rummaged the pages of facebook, judging person after person from my hometown. I saw face after face of 25 year-olds that are settled, married with children, and I have never felt so alone and different in my entire life. So I judged them for not being like me, and I judged myself deep down even harsher for not being like them. I resented my difference, deep down, unknowingly. And after trash talking them for their differences, I felt awful. It’s not in my nature to judge like that. I knew from my disappointment in myself that those judgments were not as they seemed.

 I didn’t know what I was doing, so while at the same time I was chasing a heart felt dream, I was judging it, picking it apart, analyzing it… never accepting it for what it is. It’s there. What else is there to say? It’s a deep need. The end.

 I wasn’t resentful of what I thought was other people’s judgments, I was resentful of my own. I’ve always celebrated my dreams, but I hated how alone I was in doing it. Now that I can see what actually was happening, I’ve let it go… and just like that.. the judgments disappear. I can see and celebrate my diversity and uniqueness and no longer resent it. I feel like an enormous weight has been lifted. When you are confident in who you are, you feel no need to critique others for their life choices. It took me a minute to see how much I rejected my differences, but now that I can see deep down my heartache from my fear.. it’s disappeared completely.

 I’ve always felt the same about life; that it is a grand adventure to be lived. I have a thirst that cannot be denied. The sad thing is, NO ONE was actually denying it… except me. 

A Generalization and a Judgement

I stare lifelessly at the photos flashing before me.

I wish I could say that I'm watching without judgement,

but the truth is, I'm judging every photo, every staged smile, every face staring back at me.

For months now, I've looked at the photos in shock.

Each stage passing with the hundreds of photos,

shock, anger, annoyance, confusion and now...

acceptance.

I guess it comes from the fact that I feel so strongly for my own evolution, and

I find it hard to believe so many would give it up unknowingly

I guess I grew up with these faces...and I always felt one step behind.

I didn't have a ton of friends

I didn't ever really fit in.

I didn't have that happy-go-lucky supportive family.

No fancy clothes.

No fancy cars.

I had nothing

and I felt like nothing as I walked in their shadows.

To say it didn't affect me

or bother me...

would be a waste of a breath

It bothered me

but to have fought it would be futile

Not only did I not have the money or support

I just didn't have the desire to deal with their politics

So instead I worked

and smoked cigarettes

and dealt with my mother and her religious head games.

And then I grew up

I fought long, and I fought hard

I threw away my despair and refused to take no for an answer

No fancy cars, no apartments with my BFF, no spring breaks

Work, school, school, work

And yes, I had some amazing times and I was was incredibly grateful for my life,

but it wasn't easy.

So now I'm 26, I'm sitting in my high rise in Chicago, with this amazing life that I have created; this amazing life that I've done nothing but dream about for years and years.

It is everything I've hoped for;

my family has grown, my friends have expanded out and some deep friendships have expanded deeper

I'm not quite sure why I've had to fight so hard for this life in comparison with others falling into it, but I'm here now. No more fighting.

I am about to live another huge life dream. I'm going to see the world.

I'm going to live more adventures, fall in love, 

live in Australia.

It hasn't been so easy to get here, but oh so worth it...

So... I look at these women now, women I used to look up to, girls I wanted to be

girls I thought had everything

and I judge them a little.

Didn't they have dreams??   Didn't they want anything besides marriage??? 

I mean, I want marriage too, but that comes in its own time.

Until then though.. there's this great big world to experience.

Didn't they want to see anything? Try anything? Meet anyone??

Of course life is far from over for most of us

but once the babies come... a lot of doors open but there are a hell of a lot of doors that close

I look at them, these women,

and I feel sorry for them.

Yes, they may have love before me, but I'll have that one day too. 

They never left. They never will. 

They've had their hay day. They're done. 

I just don't get it.

I stare lifelessly at the photos, and I see people that are exactly the same as 10 years ago. 

No growth. No changes. Same hair, same clothes, same lip gloss.

Call me judgmental, but its tragic. 

These women I used to look up to, are still children, stuck in their box, viewing life with their blinders on. I'm sure they judge me too, I'm very different from them and their mothers and their mother's mothers. But I'm sorry for them. 

They will never go. They will never see.

New Healing

One morning a sibling posted, "I love my mother for all she has done".

This sentence sent me reeling into pain and resentment. Bitter words and anger spewed from me as I cursed that very sentence. "What has she done but left me and rejected me??" "Screw that, piss on that.. I'll tell you what else she's done... " Bla. Bla. Bla. 

I hated my reaction as I was living it. I don't want to feel this way. I walked around my apartment, getting ready for work and desperately prayed for a way to move on from this, once again. 

Driving through the city that day in mid chorus of some random song, it hit me.. and I found the grace to see this situation in a different light. When I parked I wrote these words down; 

"In holding your anger,  you curse her rejection of you as if it were her own, as if she had a choice. The only choice she had was 20 years ago in her deep sorrow, finding a path that gave her peace. This path is also one you rejected and has rejected you in return. Your rejection of her life has given you yours. Because you left, you have lived dreams and expanded beyond recognition. The tragedy of this story is not in a mother rejecting her daughter, but in a controlling, all consuming religion separating a family. There cannot be a middle ground here. She has no choice but to give up her entire life or give you up (and vice versa). Initially you rejected this religion, it and she did not reject you. She runs from you because she is an incredibly sad mother and her guilt does not allow her to recognize you in the most allowed and relaxed settings. The only thing worse than "hate" is indifference. Let her be. This separation has nothing to do with you. Give yourself a rest. To take this personal is the worst sin of all."

Encouragement from Liz

I have decided that it is time to re-read my very favorite book, "Eat, Pray, Love". 

In all areas of my life, I am so incredibly focused and organized... until it comes to reading. I read handfuls of books at a time, and then half-way through them, head to the bookstore to buy more when I already have an impressive stack of unread books waiting for me at home.

 Anyways, this is off the subject. I am re-reading this book of adventures because I somehow have lost my way on "confident and excited" street and am certainly finding myself here on "I'm so nervous and scared" boulevard. Its like I'm listening to a record that's stuck on repeat and an unable to get up to change the disc. I am relieved though, to tell you that my resolve still is stable and conviction unwavering. I'm just... well.. nervous, and scared. So... a here's a little "your about to experience the most amazing time of your entire life" CPR. 

Here is a very long but funny page from "Eat, Pray, Love" that so completely makes me feel better. It's like Elizabeth Gilbert is saying, "I feel ya kid, its gonna be alright."

"Truthfully, I'm not the best traveler in the world. 

I know this because I've traveled a lot and I've met people who are great at it. Real naturals. I've met travelers who are so physically sturdy they could drink a shoebox of water from a Calcutta gutter and never get sick. People who can pick up new languages where others of us might only pick up infectious diseases. ... People who are the right height and complexion that they kinda look halfway normal where ever they go- in Turkey they just might be Turks.. in Mexico they are suddenly Mexican...

I don't have these qualities. First off, I don't blend. Tall and blond and pink-complexioned, I am less a chameleon than a flamingo. Everywhere I go but Dusseldorf, I stand out garishly. ... 

And, oh, the woes that traveling has inflicted on my digestive tract! ... I've experienced every extreme of digestive emergency. In Lebanon I became so explosively ill one night that i could only imagine I somehow contracted a middle eastern version of the Ebola virus. ...

Still, despite all this, traveling is the great true love of my life. I have always felt,... that to travel is worth any cost or sacrifice. ... I feel about travel the way a new mother feels about her impossible, colicky, restless newborn baby- I just don't care what it puts me through. Because I adore it. Because its mine. It can barf all over me if it wants to-I just don't care. 

Anyway, for a flamingo, I'm not completely helpless..  I can make friends with anybody. I once made friends with a war criminal in Serbia. .. If there isn't anyone else to talk to, I could probably make friends with a four-foot-tall pile of Sheetrock. This is why I'm not afraid to travel to the most remote places in the world, not if there are human beings there to meet. People asked me before I left for Italy, "Do you have friends in Rome?" and I would just shake my head no, thinking to myself, but I will"

Yes, Elizabeth Gilbert, I shall read your book to knock myself out of this self-imposed worry wart virus. Change your perspective and you change your world. 

The really great thing is this; the universe is giving me nothing but a giant pat on the back. I am getting the most favorable, kind and excited words from all those I talk to. My hair dresser, my insurance agent, the guy who changed my oil... they all light up, grinning ear to ear, declaring, "WOW, you are going to have the most amazing time, meet so many people.. I'm so happy/jealous!!" I definitely can't complain that I don't have love and support from even the most distant of strangers. So thank you, world, for your comfort and reassurance! 

Now, back to you, Elizabeth. 

a BIG year.

Tomorrow is my 26^th birthday. Life is not where I thought it would be when I turn 26. I think maybe I assumed that I would be so grown up, so settled, married. Instead, I am doing the scariest thing in the world for me.  The past couple weeks I have been more scared than excited. The time has come to renew my lease for the next year, and I’ll be renewing it for a couple months only. Now, now it is getting serious. I am so scared. When you are this afraid, you feel trapped. I can’t seem to get out of my thinking into the bright happiness I had before.

 

But the thing is… I know this is part of the deal. I know there are going to be scary times, and elated times. I understand and accept that being this afraid makes it that much more worth it. Being afraid means I am real, and that this is a big deal.

 

I am not one of “those” travelers. I am not a hippie, I don’t go with the flow. I am a type A personality; I plan and organize and analyze. I can’t go to a street vendor and eat the food and NOT wonder if it’s clean. I don’t have a stomach of steel (quite the opposite). I am responsible, and educated, and cautious. And now.. I am about to embark on a trip that will force me to “go with the flow”, and put myself out there, and be afraid. This trip will literally be the death of me. I will never be the same. It will take who I am and stretch and expand and morph myself into a bigger and brighter soul.

 

I have written this before; this dream has chosen me more than I have chosen it. This is meant to be. If my grandparents were here, I’d probably cry on their shoulders. But as I sit here feeling the fierce magnitude of my life, I don’t change my mind. Not even for a second. I have taken this journey and have accepted my assignment. And as much as I feel unequipped, I have other compelling qualities that are the sound reason for any confidence. I am strong. I am cautious. I can make friends anywhere. I am organized, and therefore can plan ahead and wont put myself into a bad situation. I have a sense of adventure that has run through my veins since childhood, and an independence that cannot be denied. I have the most supportive friends and family then anyone could ever ask for. I am not soft spoken. If someone messes with me I will NOT take it. I have money, and money makes the world go around. I have a credit card that can get me back home at anytime, from anywhere. There is nothing to be afraid of, I am well equipped. I am obviously talking to my fear here, but already I feel better. I will make it through this fear. I will make it through this fear. Life, like a pendulum, always swings both ways. For months before this fearful period I would cry tears of happiness and feel excitement screaming through my veins. Each time I make it through, I am stronger. The fear means that I am not romanticizing, I am not in la-la land. I understand and accept the pros and cons of this adventure. The biggest pro of all, though, is that I am living a dream. This is my life’s gift.

 

A quote on my fridge:

 “This is why we need to travel. If we don’t offer ourselves to the unknown, our senses dull. Our world becomes small and we lose our sense of wonder. Our eyes don’t life to the horizon; our ears don’t hear the sounds around us. The edge is off our experience, and we pass our days in a routine that is both comfortable and limiting. We wake up one day and find that we have lost our dreams in order to protect our days.”  Letters to my Son by Kent Nerburn.