When what should be important to you gets left behind, the significance of you lessens just the same. You become faceless when you stop caring. Whether it be because of ignorance, indifference, carelessness, or cowardice the expectation of your contribution diminishes along with the importance of it. You give up your face, your opportunity to stand out, when selfish lines are what you live along. Walking with the masses of the faceless, you feel strong, you feel purpose. But the purpose to belong won’t give you an expression worthy enough for the ones with faces to stop for you. No, they walk right on by.
There are words that get overlooked when they stand next to the bigger ones of today. When the verbs and nouns such as hate, revolution, change, opinion, media and news fill the articles we scroll through with negative connotations, when more than ever everyone seems to have opinions on topics with the limited knowledge of headlines, words of authenticity like hope, love, joy, and charity find themselves being swept under the rug society walks on.
Wonder is one of those good words, one that we don’t see much praise for. It has almost become something overrated in our world of “doing” and “making a change.” While it lays as the foundation of change and revolution, its authenticity gets lost in opinions, or more like the fear of others’ opinions. In conversations we often feel the need to have opinions, even if we don’t. Agreeing or disagreeing, having a stance on something without conviction, has taken the place of the vagueness that hope conveys. We rarely gives ourselves the step back to fully see a picture. We restrict ourselves to what is already seen, we forfeit original thought. And this gets us into something that is even more bleak than conformity. Because without wonder where did it start?
noun- a feeling of surprise mingled with admiration, caused by something beautiful, unexpected, unfamiliar, or inexplicable.
verb– desire or be curious to know something. Feel admiration and amazement; marvel.
Like damn, marveling doesn’t happen often anymore. Which, is so unfortunate because marveling, the sight of ones jaw falling slightly open as one looks steady ahead with wide eyes, has a beauty to it that just can’t rival the tight squeezed jaw or open flailing mouth we see too often.
Wonder is where it starts. Wonder is what creates opinion. It’s what stirs thought, pushes for action, and creates a picture. The greats of our time, the revolutions that were rightfully started, began with someone wondering, being curious enough to delve, to put forth effort to form their own opinion and act upon it in hopes to make a difference. To wonder is to dream. To wonder is to hope. To wonder puts in action figuratively, then literally.
As a whole, I don’t believe we are all hopelessly lost, but I do think that we all could use more room for wonder in our life, our thoughts, and our actions. We need to know where it started so we know how it should end. This is where right and wrong come into play, and where the faded lines have crossed each other in unfortunate places.
Stand for something you know, believe in it, care about it, and do something with it. Big or small, we don’t have to be the face on the posters, but we can be proud of the ones we hang in our homes and still are able to marvel at.
Chugging. I’ve been chugging. And not the fun stuff either. No, I’ve been binge drinking the fruit punch flavors of the month. Last month was “crunch time”, aka, working my life away. Which, unfortunately hasn’t proven to show its worthiness. The month before last the flavor was “positivity,” because shit, I needed a lot of that after the month before that was “emotional.” Good news though, the flavors do seem to be getting better. I started off with grape, and this next month is looking like a solid cherry.
It’s like that bright green button that’s been off in the distance, flashing, taunting me, is finally in arms reach for me to smash my fist into. The restart button. Oh buddy, I’ve been wanting to push it. Honestly, the only other thing that could satisfy me to the same extent would be peeling like 1000 plastic screen protectors off new appliances.
To restart. It sounds easy, but I’m guessing, ok preparing for, something resembling maybe Hell. Ok, so obviously not quite Hell. Restart does has a very positive outlook and feeling to it…But if I shoot low, I can only be pleasantly surprised, right?
For real though, putting aside the fact the I quite literally mess with my own mind as a defense mechanism, a restart is exactly what I’m looking for. Which is funny because knowing something, hell anything that I want, is a feat similar to my last journey across the desert, which never happened…case and point. Restarting is going to be hard, and there’s no easy way around it.
I have a tendency to try to look into my future, play out scenarios, imagine and expect certain things. But that tendency has given birth to a whole new level of anxiety and disappointment, so I’m thinking for this restart it is going to be best to just go with the flow. Like really, I’m going to jump on my inner tube, let my ass sit in the water, and float down the unknown river. Mind you, I’ll have a big stick to steer and poke away stranger dangers, but floating is what I’ll be doing. Now, that doesn’t mean I don’t have goals or wants for this restart, because I got a hella lot, but it does mean that I’m going to surrender the parts of myself that have been afraid and unsure. Looking back, everything that I have truly cherished has been unplanned, so there’s no use in worrying and trying to be my own fortune teller. What I’ve done is guide myself in a direction, following my heart if you will. Corny and cliche as some of my beliefs, life has a way of working out. The shit you go through makes you something—at first maybe mad or sad, but then maybe strong.
You can’t go into a restart and think it’s going to be like Willie Wonka’s edible park. That’s when one of those “life lessons” hits ya square in the vagina, rain starts pouring, and “giving it time” makes you want to vomit in your mouth.
I’m choosing to restart. And it’s going to stem from a foundation of simplicity. I’m being positive. I’m being optimistic. I’m being ambitious. I’m being aware of my past, and enjoying my present. Knowing what I want doesn’t have to be a one word answer. For me what I want is a picture, you know because a picture is worth 1000 words. And I’m ok with the complexity of my happiness and the complicated definition of Emily Sage Pineda, because truthfully I never want to be fully defined. I like to wiggle.
Today I starred a bunch of big girl jobs on Craigslist. Jobs that seemed interesting enough that dealt with marketing/pr—things around my degree, jobs that come with security—401k, health insurance, a salary. Because jobs like this is what I’m being told I should take. Being told by society, my student loans looming over my head, my family, the voice inside my head when I think about my future, my money problems, and my adulating self. I found myself getting exciting, saying “hmm that could be cool, I could do that.” More times than that though I did find myself thinking I’m not qualified enough for that one, or I would never get past the first round of the interview process. So, I moved on, I moved through, job after job, not starring anything lower than $15/hour.
But then I starting thinking of something else, like my brain usually does when forced to focus on a particular task. Damn.
I slowly, but quickly, started realizing that maybe these types of jobs are what I don’t want, shouldn’t have right now. I am in a place in my life where I feel pretty lost, wandering in a familiar path, looking for something that can prove itself as new to me. Thinking, if I land one of these security jobs, what happens when I realize years down the road that I took the job too soon. I fell into a life that I swore I wouldn’t ever stumble into, because of well, health care.
I found myself saying “shit this job wants me to commit to a 2 year program, NEXT!” I cannot, in every cell in my body, commit to something for over a year at the moment. Love is the only thing I can see as an exception. I simply am just too goddam unsure, ok, more like scared that I’m going to make the wrong decision and send my life into a direction of tripping in puddles and looking up to see that I am nowhere near anything familiar. Hell, when the gym guy was signing me up for my membership and asked me if I want a lower-priced committed plan vs a higher monthly priced non committed plan I pretty much screamed OH I DO NOT WANT COMMITMENT.
I know that right now, in my 25 year old self, body, and soul that I aggressively am against putting myself into anything that I am not passionate about. Yes, I know I need to start setting myself up for the future, and I know that can be seen as an incredibly selfish and naive statement, but if I am setting myself up in a way that will actually put me 5 years back when I’m 30, is it worth it? Because I know myself. I know that I can’t allow myself to settle and feel ok about it. Is it worth always wondering if I could be doing something I actually enjoy, something I made for myself because of the giant risks I took in my 20’s? If I put myself in a position right now of setting my creative 20’s life away, where will that put myself in the future? Is now the time when I need to be taking foolish jobs, wandering even more, falling in love even more, feeling even more scared, and jumping into some not so lucrative creative things?
Recently a coworker was just talking about how almost everybody out of college gets a job that pays over a 30K salary—not sure how valid that point is— and it got me to thinking that, damn, I really don’t want to be in a category of people that go into the fucking “job market.” Right now, I don’t want to picture myself saying, “yeah I never saw myself marketing ceiling fans, but damn I’m sure good at it and its makes me a make a hefty salary.” No, right now I want to picture myself standing strong on my own in my own art studio in painted overalls sipping on tea while a soft jazz number plays in the background. I want to see myself as someone who made her own path. Made something of HERSELF. I don’t want to market SHIT. I want to find a passion, run with it, and be proud of it because it is a part of me. Ceiling fans will never be apart of me. I don’t care how good I could be at it, I don’t even want to imagine myself in that god awful position no matter how good looking that salary looks. Label me crazy. Hell, I sure feel like it. I think it’s an inner battle that I’ve been having with myself for awhile now. I just haven’t realized it. I know what I should do, aka get a security job. And I also know what I want to do/should also do because it’s something I want. And I sure know, I do what I want.
I’m not sure what kind of decisions I’ll make, nor what I’ll base them off of. I do know I’m nervous, and I also know deep down that whatever decisions I make will be the right ones, because life has a way of working itself out. I truly believe that. It’s all perspective.
There are a few things that I’d like to be known. And it’s not because the bullshit of it being a new year and I’m feeling all ambitious for the reason of the first of a month. No, it’s because of the weather today. My moods are like the seasons, expectant, ever changing, and surprising. Like days like today. It’s the second week into January, and after a good week of freezing face and ass weather, we are at a balmy 50 degrees. Granted, skies are still grey as hell, but the wind sounds different. It’s not as harsh and hating as it’s been. And you know what I woke up to this morning? A bird chirping. A bloody happy bird.
So, you could say I’m a woman moved by nature…ok so it’s more the weather but it’s pretty much the same thing and nature sounds so much more profound and deep so I’m gonna go with that.
This morning I also set my alarm to an early 8 am wake up call, but every time Jason Mraz’s I’m Yours serenade came on I immediately hit snooze, until it was 11 am. Now, even though I set this alarm to get in the routine of getting my day started out earlier, you know for my well being, that little voice in the back of my head kept shouting “why the hell did you set an alarm this morning, you idiot,” which further encouraged every snooze button hit.
Feeling pretty stiff come 11 am I throw my legs out of my bed, put some pants on, and precede to drag my lazy ass down the stairs. At this point I know full well I’m a let down, that other little voice in my head was telling me so. To make up for it I make myself a healthy breakfast of mushrooms, eggs, and toast, gulped down with a pot of very black coffee.
I do some reading after breakfast because I just read a headline the night before that CEOs read an average of 30 books a year. 30. I’m in the middle of 4 and I’ve been in the middle of one of them for 3 years.
I’ve been doing this thing lately where all I listen to at the gym is the Guardians of the Galaxy Pandora station. It really stirs something in me, and I dig it.
Got a bit off topic here, but I think my morning is a nice lead up to what I want to be known. Because having a good morning with certain intentions, warmer weather, and a singing bird stirred up some thoughts. I think it’s important to set goals for yourself, and I think it’s just as important to hold yourself accountable to them. While I do have several personal goals that do not need to be public knowledge, I have some that I think the public could benefit from too.
In todays society filled with social media, casual relationships, frightening politics, frightening leaders, and guarded-more-than-ever people, I think we all need to add a few things to our daily routine. Rather than setting a New Years resolution like going to the gym, which by the way every goddam body seems to be doing, set some resolutions that can actually contribute to more than your fucking glutes.
Here’s a few that I’m keeping in mind.
Look strangers in the eyes more. We all want to be seen.
Speak more realness. Too often we comply with what others are saying for the sake of saving face. We are so quick to agree with an opinion or topic, and a lot of times we aren’t fully informed on the said topic, but for some reason we just have to seem like we know what’s going on. For once, maybe say, “hmm I’m not really aware of all that you’re talking about,” rather than excitedly saying, “oh my god, I know what you mean,” or “for sure!” (que eye roll)
Be an outlier. To reiterate on the point above, say what you goddamn feel. It’s refreshing, and real—something this world needs a hell lot more of.
Love hard, and fucking fight. This is an obvious, but I’m realizing more and more that people have a tendency to go along with things because it’s easy. And yeah, you can definitely find yourself in a relationship because a lot of times it’s easier to be in one with someone because they’re easy to sit down to a dinner with. I call bullshit on a lot of things, and am picky as hell when it comes to people I let in. Fight for what you want, because easy isn’t going to get you what you really want, or need.
Laugh with people. I was at a movie the other week, and something happened at the end that really felt awesome. Everybody clapped, like really clapped. You could tell the whole theater was full of ear to ear smiles too. This felt like such a cool moment that we all experienced together. No matter what our views, beliefs, or demographics are, we all came together to feel this way.
Have more human experiences. Be present. Relate to others. Be kind. Be the best you can be. Be corny. Be smart. Lead. And most importantly, love.
So there I am, at the gym working out on the arc trainer— you know, the elliptical looking machine that makes you look like you’re jumping over hot coals or something. I keep my phone in front of me laying horizontal on the ledge of the face of the machine. I go to skip a song on my Pandora station, cocking my head to read the name of the next song, when my hand gets caught up in my headphone cord which then sends my phone flying off the machine. Hitting the foot swingers of my machine on its way down, my newly leased iPhone bounces off not only the machine that’s to my left, but then off a third arc trainer before it finally hits the ground leaving booming echoes of this extraordinary fall. My headphones, dangling in front of me, still plugged into my ears. So harshly was my music torn from me and left me with the deafening loud hum of the ellipticals in front of me and some top-40 pop song overhead on the main speakers.
Muttering a “fuck, “which very probably was a bit above a mutter, as I angrily ripped out my earbuds and slowed down my pace to stop the machine so I could retrieve my phone two machines over. Thankfully there was nobody in the immediate area of fire. Apprehensively walking toward it, I could see it was facing down hiding any shame it now may have possessed. Bending over and under the machine to snatch it up, I turned it over to realize my fear was real. I had managed to crack yet another screen—another glass spiderweb to look through.
Okay, so it wasn’t that bad of a crack, and it was only the screen protector that cracked, but STILL, this was the piss of the day that broke my seal.
To get some background, I am no stranger to cracks in my life. For some reason I attract them. Just one week earlier I turned in my old phone that had been severely cracked for over a year, both screen and protecter. I was just now getting used to the luxury of having a smooth, bright, crackless, and happy full iPhone screen. I currently have a crack in my car windshield that over 3 years has been annoyingly extending right into my sightline. I graduated college with a laptop that survived falling off my couch onto a wood floor—surviving meaning it worked but a ginormous crack spread over it. I was an advertising design major, and every graphic design I turned in was created through a glass spiderweb.
So, as you can see, I am FED UP with having cracks in my life, in my sight, and under my fingertips.
But, this whole crack thing got me thinking.
And yeah, they become something we always have to look past, an annoyance that we deal with. But, eventually you don’t notice them anymore. You learn to live with the cracks. Hell, maybe the cracks made me a better designer, you know, gave me a keener eye…Ha. Ha.
It just goes to show that events that happen to us may seem like a big deal initially. It might even feel like the end of the world. But, as proof of you living, life goes on. The cracks of life are still there, but your human strength to focus on the more important things, like the road in front of you, give you the edge you need to get through.
I’m not one to use big words. I’m more someone who creates words and insists they’re real. I mean come on, funner has gotta be real. I get a lot of flack from that one—from not fun people I should add. Anyways, I do think it is important for me to become more aware of the real words out there. Especially when, ya know, I try to write. Which is why lately when I come across words that I don’t know the full definition of, I ask my Australian Siri Man. He’s useless for the most part, but defining may be his one strength.
So being very transparent here, you might say I’m in a bit of a rut. Call it a quarter-life crisis maybe. Fitting since I am 25. Meh, whatever you want to call it, it resembles a ball sucking, ass kicking, and mind boggling time in my life. All we can do is live day by day they always say, so day by day is what I do. Great advice oh wise one—sheesh. But, sometimes corny obvious advice is what one needs. We overlook what’s in front of us while we’re searching for our soul in the greener grass.
While I’m off climbing yet another mountain to find my guru, I’m reading this book. It’s a very thick one, and it is taking me for-fucking-ever to read. It’s because I have to re-read every single paragraph this lady writes. Her content is so dense, so true, I want to fully understand what they hell she is really saying. And, you know, the whole making up words thing is just not cutting it for my comprehension. With Australian Siri Man to my rescue, I find a word that I didn’t realize describes my current situation perfectly.
Malaise. A general feeling of discomfort, illness, or uneasiness whose exact cause is difficult to identify.
It’s such a vague word, and is the twisty tie holding my world together. It’s tied in such a way that when I think I’m untying it I then realize, nope, I’m making it tighter. So I go the other way. Over and over again. Floating in this emotional malaise while getting seasick over the raft I built for myself. It’s a constant itch as I try to keep my emotions in check. It’s partly due to the fact of where I am physically, back at my parents house, cramming my stuff around Pokemon cards and remote controlled cars in my brothers old room. It’s also partly due to what I’m settling for. For the first time in my goddamn life I know what I want, but yet I feel like I’m holding sand in my hands. Following the heart is a devastating path. It’s hard, it’s fucking hard. But, for some ungodly reason, it’s still all I want to do. And settling, oh it’s killing me. More so making me feel psychotic. Temporary is what I keep telling myself, it’s all temporary. This emotional malaise, this overpowering general feel of uneasiness, is challenging me to ends I don’t know how to meet.
Drastic moves is what will come next. I can feel it climbing up through me. After such contemplation, over-analyzing, and self scrutiny, I know in my bones who I am. And drastic is something I do. Once I make a decision, it’s made. There’s not even a chance for me to talk myself out of it. A very large fault of mine, I know this, but at the moment I’m going to see it as an opportunity. An opportunity to go after my instincts, to feel in my gut what my heart wants, and let my head actually create something sustainable.
…and it’s going to be funner than anything else.