The Marvelous Crumb

Follow Joy. Find Belonging.

Tag: adult

For all the other “late bloomers”

Last Sunday, I turned 36. And even though life does not look like what I imagined it would at this age — no house, no babies, no pets, no partner — I’m not ashamed of my years.

There’s a settledness that has arrived, a trusting in the unfolding. And in this resting, I’ve discovered something unexpected.  By unwinding from expectations of how I should be, what I should have and how I should be living, I’m finding a celebration of what is.

It’s like bushwhacking through dense jungle in search of water while standing in a fresh, sparkling pool. If we could just stop looking ahead, we might find relief by simply looking around.

This relief is remembering that life doesn’t have to look like anything other than what it is. I don’t have to be anyone other than who I am. Everything is abundantly enough.

Yes, there is heartbreak.
Yes, there is tragedy.
The planet is dying, our systems are broken. There are bills and deadlines and people who let us down, don’t show up and don’t seem to care.

But this, the glittering pool I’m talking about, is the cool water of restoration. It is the ever-present antidote of enoughness. We lose it in our quest to “measure up” and find in the reclaiming of rooting down.

This aging process, for me, has been a journey of reconnecting to the person I’ve always been. It’s learning to let go of the stories and fear of judgment and instead trusting and cautiously bringing forth an unbridled me-ness.

I believe that this is what the world is asking of us. The house, the children, the robust social presence, the thriving business, the perfect partner — sure, fine — but this is not what we’re living for. Striving for only these results in a world that does not work.

Instead, we’re being asked to show up with our quivering me-ness as the only means for building a world based on authentic connection. It’s about love — for self and planet. I know, there’s that ubiquitous L word, but there’s just no beating around the bush here.

Sometimes this looks like “not knowing.”
Sometimes this looks like being “a late bloomer.”
Sometimes this looks like “not having your shit together.”
Sometimes this looks like not having “grown up.”

If you, like myself, sometimes feel “behind,” and worry that your unconventional existence may prove disastrous down the road, may I offer another possibility? What if you are really a trailblazer? The tip of the wave hurdling through space and in this journey paving the way for a more congruous, more alive way of living? How brave. How revolutionary.

TAP YOUR UNBRIDLED YOU-NESS

What are the practices that bring you to yourself? Make your energetic presence swell? Remind you that you are part of something?

I’m being brought to myself when I slow down. Walk instead of drive. Soak in the late afternoon light. Stop to smell things. Look up. Listen without racing ahead. Collect leaves. Write with an actual pen.

I’m on the right path when I feel a little scared. Before I press publish.  Asking for support. Showing up at an event alone. Facilitating a group. Planning a workshop. Asking for what I’m worth. Making a boundary.

I am free when I let myself have “it.” Dancing in the front row. Wearing a tutu. Glittering myself. Reading my work allowed. Dressing by mood. Saying how I really feel. Savoring something delicious.

My heart is open when I drop my agenda. Observing strangers in moments of tenderness. Talking to my niece. Listening to a beautiful piece of music.

What are these practices for you?

 

In the ocean, I discovered the power of surrender

Sacred Waipio Valley

Sacred Waipio Valley. We hiked down to swim in the water and warm ourselves on the black sand.

I did not know when I booked a trip to Hawaii in December that it would fall in the middle of so many important projects – each like a precious jewel requiring constant attention and regular polishing.

How could I put one down for a frivolous vacation? Yet, I’m not one to go back on my word or undo plans already set into motion, and a part of me knew I was being called to the island for some reason.

I thought this trip was about reclaiming my power.
I thought it was about learning to live with a broken heart.

But things are never what you think they will be.

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How do you slay your morning dragons?

Morning Dragon

Hello day
Please be slow and gentle
Inspired and efficient
Curious and kind
I’m already scared of the doing

I’m thinking about morning routines.

Specifically, how might I create an environment that would help me start the day feeling prepared, confident and motivated rather than drowning in the overwhelm and anxiousness I experience now. Many days after waking, I wish nothing more than to go back to sleep. I lie in bed petrified of the day ahead,  willing myself into a thin dreamy fantasy that takes me away from the world and all its troubles, the mounting projects,  competing engagements, and people who need my time. Sometimes I’m in this limbo for 10 minutes. When there’s a particularly challenging something,  it’s more like an hour.

 

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The one thing I’m wishing for this birthday

Birthday Ice Cream

Chicory Pecan and Rose Matcha Marshmallow from my favorite ice cream shop in the world — so far.

 

I’m not one of those gals who keeps her birthday a secret for fear of disclosing her true age. I AM 35!!! And I worked for most of those years.

That’s:
630 birthday cake candles blown
50ish trips to the dentist
4 cavities filled
29,260 hours dreamt
7 favorite books discovered
3 significant loves lost
4 grandparents passed
3 unforgettable meals
5 meditation retreats
4 out-of-country vacations
4 out-of-state moves
2 advanced degrees
Hundreds of articles written
1 career change
1 blog launch
and
Countless tears shed in joy and pain

Whew!

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I’m not a perfectionist, I just want to “get it right”

Perfectionist Headstand Prep

I’ve never considered myself a perfectionist.

I didn’t think it was a gene my messy, fun-loving family possessed.

While growing up, B-average grades were regularly praised.

Our home answering machine message was a secondary rhyming “family rap” in which we all wrote a line and ended with an exuberant “oh yeah!” No one found this embarrassing.

Outfits for family pictures were coordinated with a request to wear any shade of “purple pastel.” Naturally, interpretations varied.

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It’s hard out there for a black chick – on OkCupid

OkCupid Profile Page

I gingerly stepped into OkCupid’s shooting range in my mid twenties.

In truth, I was looking for a distraction to get over my ex, and my profile, which included links like this, reflected my carefree dating approach.

I received 56 messages in just two weeks.

56 messages?! Awesome!

Sure, many of those messages ranged from the unintelligible, “Will you have some peanut butter sandwich after or before because I eat even a burger with roasted peanut butter?” to the sexually suggestive, “I wil love to b close and meet with you …” but for this gal (who never received an invitation to a high school dance) it was a boon. I was in demand … so I thought.

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I’m 34 and single, have I missed the baby boat?

Oh, Baby!

Me and my niece Kalaya (left); FB babies (right)

Many of my friends now have children.

This realization hit me recently while scrolling through Facebook avoiding whatever was my present situation. Reality arrived anyway. There were too many cooing, crawling, picture-drawing, costume-wearing small people for this dateless, broke gal to comfortably appreciate.

What’s more, many of these posts appeared to be captured inside real-life houses. You know, with multiple floors, an eat-in kitchen and a garage.

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