On Channeling Your Senses

Recently, my therapist asked me to try a new method of dealing with my anxiety by focusing on my senses and identifying what makes me smile by way of my senses. For three weeks, I focused on my senses throughout the day and anytime I caught myself smiling, I made a note. I had never realized how much I smile, or how many things make me feel happy. I had a lot of options, but i narrowed them down to 10 things in each category. I would like to share those things I have heard, felt, smelled, seen, or tasted that have made me smile and I would like to challenge you, reader to do the same. Whether you adopt this method as a way of meditation, or dealing with emotions or just because, you will truly be able to appreciate the little things that often go unnoticed.

This list is 50 items long, so I apologize, but hopefully my commentary makes it worth the read:

Sight

1. Flowers-any flowers, I just love flowers

2. Pop-pop’s house-Long Island, New York

3. Our love box-where my husband and I keep almost six years of mementos

4. Anthropologie/Free People-the aesthetic 

5. Fitness Instagram Profiles-if they can do it, I can too!

6. My artwork-look how far I've come

7. The babies play-their personalities are amazing 

8. Bookstores-am I right?

9. Babies in the backseat-they make the funniest faces

10. My house-my design is on point

Sound

1. The babies talk-they try so hard
2. Elevation Worship-you can just feel the Lord!

3. Words of Affirmation-my love language

4. Pop-pop’s voice-I can still hear him telling me to do what makes me happy

5. “Then” Brad Paisley-Wedding song

6. “Firecracker” Josh Turner-wedding song

7. “The Stand In” Leighton Meester & Check In the Dark-first dance song

8. Talking to Stephen via Facetime-*tries to insert emoji with heart eyes*

9. Positive conversations with my mom-we are so similar its a little scary

10. My dad calling me “Bebe”-it's adorable

Touch

1. Warm clothes from the dryer-I can't be the only one who takes out the laundry and lies on top of the pile for a HOT SECOND (see what I did there)

2. Hot shower-again...am I right?

3. Bubble bath-with a lavender bath bomb

4. New book-the feeling of the crisp pages...

5. Cuddling with Stephen-all I want when I come home

6. Pedicure-I mean, duh!

7. Snuggling babies-when they let me

8. Running my fingers through Stephen’s hair-relaxes me too

9. Brushing the girls’ hair-so sweet

10. Warm sand-mmm I miss the beach

Taste
1. Nita’s Corn Casserole-Delicious 

2. Nana’s meatloaf-Delicious

3. Tea with milk-Pop-pop taught me how to drink my tea

4. Milkshakes-the best cure for anything

5. Clean Juice-how good does it feel to know exactly what you're eating/drinking

6. Mom's Sweet Potato Casserole-with a side of love and tradition

7. BBQ chicken-stephen makes a killer chef, and pretty easy on the eyes *tries to insert winking emoji*

8. Kale-because I'm recharged after a super kale salad

9. Pomegranate seeds-so refreshing!

10. Apple Pie cookies-my own creation

Smell
1. Lavender-calming

2. Peonies-beautiful

3. Hydrangeas-mmm

4. Apples and cinnamon-mmmm

5. Beach-mmmmm

6. Haven’s hair-mmmmmm

7. Stephen’s body wash-mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm *tries to insert kissy face emoji*

8. Woods/forest-now I want to go on a hike

9. New book pages/bookstores-to a bookstore

10. Woodshop/Pop-pop’s basement-on Long Island


-T

On the Value of Education

In a few of my previous posts, I've written about my experience with education. I struggled most of my life sitting in classes trying to remain disciplined. Unfortunately, I was not encouraged in the areas that would allow me to fully develop my strengths and skills. When a student finds something they are interested in, it is extremely important to harness that attention and interest in education so that student does not suffer through school thinking of it as something to get over with quickly. Instead, students should strive to further their education, knowing that what they are learning will help them on their career path. I went to school all my life thinking I was going to become an educator, knowing full well my strengths had nothing to do with sitting in a classroom for my career, especially because I could barely do it through high school! I went to college as a major in education. I wrote this story my senior year for a final in which I had to write a lesson plan and followed by a narrative. I wrote my lesson surrounding Bud, Not Buddy, a story about a boy in 1936 who goes on a search for his dad. (The Sailor Moon pics are just because I'm obsessed...)

There once was a girl I knew who just didn’t like school. She did not like to read, she did not like to write, and she did not like computers. Her mother said computers would take over the world, and she had never used one before. When she brought books home, her mother would not read to or with her and she did not know why. When she wrote stories, her mom would look at them and throw them away. She tried to tell her teachers she could not read well, but her level was just high enough to pass her to the next grade. She wanted to be held back; maybe then her mom would help her. This made the girl not want to do homework or study. When her teachers threatened to call her mom or send a note home, she only got worse. As the end of the year grew closer and closer, the girl prayed she would not make it to the fourth grade. Alas, she was assigned a fourth grade teacher.

When school began, the girl knew she was in for it. This teacher seemed genuinely nice—she greeted every one with smiles and mechanical pencils—and the girl felt she did not want to disappoint her new teacher. All day, she paid attention in class and listened to everything the teacher said. Then, the teacher said they would do a research project toward the end of the year! A research what? The girl felt sick. She regretted slacking off the year before. That night, the girl went home and told her mom about school and how she was nervous for the research project. She hoped maybe her mom could help. The mom said something about not being able to help her and that she wouldn’t be able to complete her project. This made the girl angry and renewed her will to slack off, no matter how nice the teacher was. Throughout the year the teacher would ask the girl about her research project. She didn’t want to talk about it, or school in general, so she stayed quiet. She still never turned in her homework, though she secretly did it so she wouldn’t fall too far behind.

Finally, the time came for the research project. The girl felt somewhat ready and prepared, but knew she would not turn anything in. The teacher went through the first chapter of the book they were to study and read with them! The girl couldn’t believe it! Then, the teacher showed all the students how to use a computer! The teacher kept asking if anyone had questions—some people asked questions that really helped her, and some asked really silly questions. 

The teacher came up to the girl and asked her if she had any questions. She did; the girl didn’t know how to get rid of the number that popped up every time she hit “enter”. The teacher remarked that the girl must be very advanced if she was numbering her bullets, and the girl finally spoke up: “I actually don’t know how to get rid of them.” Without skipping a beat the teacher smiled and explained to her she had automatic numbering on. The teacher said it can help, but sometimes it can also get in the way. The teacher showed her how to get rid of the numbering system if she wanted. The teacher also said the girl could stay in on recess and practice working on the document and using the computer. The girl thanked the teacher and did just that. The girl realized she could always find someone to help, whether it was her mother or not. She decided she would try harder in school; all her peers knew how to use the computer and she should learn too! She found out she loved using the Internet with its' endless sources of information! She stayed in every recess she could and soon enough she was done with her research project before any one else. She felt so proud when she printed her notes and her research paper and turned it in. She even added a cover paper, which she had seen done on the Internet of course. 

When she brought home her A+, her mom looked at it and not saying anything set it on the counter, not in the trashcan. It sat there for a few days, and then disappeared. When the girl asked her mom about it, the mom got tears in her eyes. Her mom didn’t know how to read! From then on, the girl then read to her mom every night before bed about the little boy who went on a search for his father. 

On Starting Over

Starting over is absolutely the most terrifying thing in the world. Making the choice to give up something you already have that many would be grateful for, to pursue something completely out of your original realm of thought is daunting. You now all know that I have done just that. So let me tell you about the lifetime that went into making this decision.

From a young age, I've always been creative. I was more concerned about dressing my Barbies and decorating my Barbie Dream House than actually playing with the dolls. I would spend hours at the kitchen table full of whatever craft materials we had in the house (which was actually a lot) and make something out of nothing. I always loved coloring and writing. I suppose I should have seen from an early age that I was not meant for a normal career. My creativity matured as I did and became more defined. My family would always gather around the television Sunday night to watch Extreme Makeover Home Edition. Without fail, my favorite parts were when the children were questioned on their likes (for the design, obviously, so you had better make sure you said something good), and the final reveal. I imagined what I would say if I were in that situation. I knew better than to be too specific, because if I said I like horses, I might as well ask to live in a barn. If I said I like climbing trees, my room would be a tree! I imagined I would say I love Paris, or being creative. I knew I could get something good out of that. And I always loved the reveal of the parents rooms, the living room, or the kitchen more than the kids rooms. I understood the quality of a design and I enjoyed experiencing a new design. My dad and I often would stand in a new place--a home, a business--and analyze the design. Through all of this, I was never able to pinpoint exactly what it was I was doing. I had no idea that interior design was even a thing. It wasn't until college I was able to confirm and develop my hobby, and after college when I realized I could actually make my hobby my career. That meant I would officially alter career paths from education to interior design.

Now it isn't that I didn't like the kids, or the coworkers, or anything really. It is the simple fact that I knew deep in my heart that I was not pursuing my passion. I have seen passion in the workplace; passion belongs in the workplace. I decided I wanted to be passionate about my career. I wanted to sit in a bar and have someone ask me what I do, and immediately I would smile, because even thinking about work is joyful to me. So after putting time, money, and a lot of hard work into a career I no longer could see myself doing, I gave it up. I use the term "gave it up" after contemplating other phrases like "threw it away" or "wasted my resources", but I have no regrets. I will not allow myself to question decisions I make from the deepest part of my being just because I am afraid that I will have no support or that I will fail.

In all seriousness, those are very real concerns that I know I am going to experience. Pursuing my dream and starting over is going to force me to sacrifice a lot. If I fail, those who supported me will be let down and I will have to return to a career that i am capable of, but will never be truly happy doing. If I fail, I will have to admit to myself I was wrong. People will doubt me. I will be forced to explain my decisions to some people. I will continually be under scrutiny. But if I don't try, I will always resent whatever held me back. I am ready and willing and able...and I'm young! So why the hell not?

Amidst all of this, one cannot begin to question everything they believe in. I am on a path of starting over in my career, and with that comes the reinvention of myself. I am forced to face a lot of things in my life that I realize are not actually who I want to be. Let's just say I finally was able to pinpoint my personal interior design style, and it's eclectic bohemian...

This style, I now realize, reflects my personality. If this room was a person, it would be me. Except maybe with a Persian rug and darker wood. Let's just say that up until this point in my life, I thought my design style was very different...

So please bear with me while I start over, begin my adventure, and redefine myself. I will do my best to document my journey. I would love some company!

Au revoir.
-T

On Following Your Dreams

If someone were to open my yearbook from my senior year of high school, most messages concluded by reminding me to follow my dreams. I never thought much about it until now because it is a perfectly acceptable thing to wish on someone; why would anyone not want to follow their dreams? Dreams make you feel happy and hopeful. Not having a dream to achieve seems terribly depressing, as if there is no hope or happiness in life, no goal to work toward. What is the point of going though life without an ultimate goal that seems slightly unattainable, but knowing you can get there with enough hard work and dedication?

What no one told me is that dreams change. There are many reasons a dream can change and it happens to pretty much all of us. Every five year old dreams of being a superhero, a princess, or some other fictional character (but really one of my Kindergarteners wanted to grow up to be Elsa), which many adults condone because it’s cute at the time. But at what point does someone tell you that the chances of you becoming a pop star or Elsa are pretty much slim to none. These dreams are sent to some unseen graveyard by every child when they realize there is something they want that they cannot attain. Has anyone looked into the idea that maybe those attitude-filled adolescents are so mean is because they are at the point of realizing they need to figure out a real goal in life? Poor kids know that they won’t be the next Avengers character or Hannah Montana. They're stuck waking up every morning wondering what they are working toward and why school matters, being told one day they will hopefully graduate college and go off into the real world.

Perhaps we are at the point where I explain why this all pertains to me, and why anyone should care what I have to say on the subject. Growing up, I was the ultimate dreamer. I mean, any childhood dream to be had, was, and all by yours truly. I went through my princess phase (i think I still am, actually), and then after turning into a Kindergarten know-it-all, i realized I was going to be a ballerina. Third grade saw my cosmetologist phase, and fourth grade brought my big screen dreams. In middle school, I wanted to be a fashion designer, which was a bad idea from the beginning, so thank you Mom for not supporting that one! When I made high school cheer, I thought I could make a career out of that and be an NFL cheerleader. Tenth grade gave way to me becoming an aspiring photographer (no really, this was a good one), and high school concluded with me deciding I had the vocals enough to do something: Broadway, big screen, solo artist, all girls pop group (Hello Spice Girls cover band!), even backup! But alas, I went to school to become an educator. All the dreams i dreamt were sent to the graveyard to be buried until I had kids and could dream vicariously through them. 

Unfortunately, I didn't really explore these dreams. I knew my parents wanted me to be successful, but I knew they would not be able to fully support me in my artistic endeavors at the time, since most of them did not require me to attend a four-year university. All my life, my parents warned me I have freedom in all I do except the choice of attending college. The one thing I could see myself doing that wouldn't be terrible that I could go to a four-year uni for was teaching(everyone always told me I would make a great teacher one day)--looking back, I now know there were many options, but I had no way to work those out for myself in my 18 year old brain. I knew I would still get to exert my creativity in my classroom and I was always great with kids. My mother is an educator and I was excited to follow in her footsteps. College began and I was a History major, ready to teach history. I was so happy with my decision for about 5 months. I changed my major to general education so i could teach elementary school. I was genuinely happy with my decision. I couldn't wait until I got my own classroom and had the power to inspire young minds. These kids would be the first victims of my dreams dug up from beyond. I would let them know everyday that they could truly be whatever they wanted to be, if they never gave up. I truly believe that, but who would I be to tell hundreds of kids this over the years when i couldn't even follow my own dreams (which are at this point of my story is to be an event coordinator)? My senior year of college brought on a lot of doubt. I had a lot going on, but I was really depressed. I realized i had put a lot of money, time, and soul into an education i didn't want anymore. But alas, I pushed on, and at the end of the year, I moved to North Carolina, knowing I could teach anywhere. After moving, I didn't start work right away; I knew i would be entering a doomed future. 

This past February, I started teaching at a private daycare. Half my class was comprised of adorable fresh-faced kindergarteners, and the rest were pooled in from surrounding schools for the after school program. I felt so confused every day upon waking and upon sleeping. I absolutely adored these children, some of whom i still keep in touch with (their parents of course, I'm not a creep!). But I got burnt out absolutely way too quickly. Having spent about a fifth of my life learning what to expect when I finally begin teaching, I knew I would experience burnout; I had also learned ways to avoid it. No matter what I did or who I confided in, I could not get over the sinking feeling that i was wasting my time and the time of my employers and my students. After six months, I left to pursue my newfound ultimate dream: interior design.

Dreams instill a drive deep in the soul that gently warns us if we fail, we’re screwed, so we have no choice to succeed. To recognize and follow a dream has got to be one of the scariest and bravest acts a person can commit. Some people are lucky and have a multitude of supporters to call on when they are feeling a lack of drive, while others have a select few, if any, people they know they can count on. I unfortunately am one of the latter, which makes this whole process that much harder. 

Ultimately, i want everyone to know that dreams are truly 100% attainable! If Kate Middleton could become a modern day Cinderella, you CAN become a superhero! I know people who have succeeded the only thing they ever wanted, and those people are true visionaries, and are really out there. Maybe you won't have a straight path to fulfill your dreams, and maybe you will have to work a little harder than others, but once you're there, you can look back on all the haters and wave at them from the greener grass. But the key is having the strength to recognize what it is you want and finding the drive to succeed in your wildest dreams. The minute you know you're ready, go for it! Don't let anyone stop you, even if they carried you in their womb for nine months. You owe nothing to anyone but yourself, so you do you and let everyone else watch and learn.

Au revoir!

-T