Today’s Feelings..

It’s been one of those weeks of self-doubt, frustration, stress, unprofessional idiots, regrets, and dealing with a lot of back & forth about what to do & where to go from here. This piece by Rudyard Kipling (it’s for us daughters too!) is exactly what I needed to feel like Aaliyah..and dust myself off & try again.

“If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!”

-Rudyard Kipling, If: A Father’s Advice to His Son

“Don’t Go Cryin’ To Your Mama, Cuz You’re On Your Own In The Real World”: My Advice To The Youth & Slightly Aging

Today’s Mood Ingredients: Frustrated, Mentor-y, OverUnderqualified.

So, it’s been quite a while since I’ve written a post & that’s mostly due to the fact that life caught up to me & I was too busy making a list of observations to actually have a chance to sit down & write about ’em.

Jobs. We all either have them, need them, or are retired from them. We either love them, hate them, or are apathetic towards them. For some, they’re a means to an end; for some, they’re the only consistent things in life; for some, they’re the greatest love affairs; and for some, they’re the bane of their existence. So, what’s my input? They suck. Unless of course, you’ve known what you want to do your whole life & were afforded the opportunities to strive for success in your chosen field from a very young age. Below, you’ll find my unsolicited, but in my humility-laden opinion, spectacular and priceless, advice to the classes of whatever year you did/will graduate, be they from elementary, junior high, high school, college, grad school, or some other institution. Read & heed, my friends!

DO WHAT YOU WANT. That’s all. Simple. If you have an inkling of what you want to do your whole life at whatever age you are, GO FOR IT. Don’t allow doubts, fears, or pesky little things like crippling anxiety overshadow your passion and desire for a specific route for your life. Live for yourself. It’s always nice to be selfless, but sometimes, you need to be selfish. I found out the hard way. I drastically changed my career path at the ripe young age of 30. I dropped out of medical school, I launched my own fashion line, and I continued to look for odd jobs to support my business. IT SUCKED. I wish I had gone to FIT or Parson’s right out of high school. I wish I had interned for Valentino or Marchesa or Rodarte. I wish I had apprenticed in Bombay with a designer I know. I wish I had done a lot of things, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. So, at the age of 33 with a graduate level education, a creatively obsessive background, and a small business, I worked (until a week ago) at a daycare center. I wiped other people’s children’s poop and noses (not with the same wipe, don’t worry), I cut up hot dogs for toddler lunches, I woke up at the crack of dawn (NOT ideal for an insomniac/nocturnal creature), I stood for 8 hours a day, and I dealt with the worst boss known to mankind. Lucky for me, I adore children and teaching both, so I made the best of what it was. A measly job with minor pay, but it allowed me to go to LA and go to Bombay and teach dance classes 3 days a week. It allowed me time to design & sketch at home, it allowed me time to spend QT with my nephew, and it allowed me time to go back to seriously building my business.

Unfortunately, I was forced to quit last week because that aforementioned “Horrible Boss” (without an ounce of the attractiveness of Jennifer Aniston), did not allow me a day off to attend a family funeral. Bitches be trippin’, yo, and karma isn’t always kind. Anyhow, so now here I am, back on the job hunt while working 20 hours a day on this and what do I find? I’m too overqualified for jobs like a cashier at Target or a counter person at a bakery, but too underqualified for the jobs relevant to my field. Do I have 2-4 years of retail experience if I want to apply as a Fashion Assistant at DKNY? No. I was at a science research program at Marymount. Do I have 1-2 years of previous mailroom experience in order to apply for a MAIL SORTER position at Armani? Nah. I was in medical school in Antigua.

I’m noticing that there are more and more people out there experiencing this kind of rock and a hard place situation when it comes to gainful employment (especially after a career shift), no matter what area it’s in. There are articles upon articles out there about what “experience” really even means in the social media obsessed, Vine celebrity, hired-from-Twitter-feed-to-become-a-TV-writer world (hello, Harvard Business Review!?!), but nothing actually being done about the seemingly ubiquitous situation. So my point of this rant is, until there is some evolution with today’s times, take my advice: START YOUNG. Yes, everyone will tell you it’s never too late. I mean, for the sake of full disclosure of my hypocrisy, one of my favorite quotes is “It’s never too late to be what you might have been” by George Eliot. HOWEVER, if you want to be who you might have been with a little more ease and comfort and a slightly quicker success rate, be who you might have been…..NOW.

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Today’s Interlude: “Everybody’s Free To Wear Sunscreen” by Baz Luhrmann

Are You There, God? It’s Me, Siddhi: My Friend & Foe Follies With Faith

Today’s Mood Ingredients: Trusting, Trying, Anxious, Faithful.

I’ve always been a child of faith. Mostly because as kids, you tend to follow whatever path your parents are on, & in my case, that was a deep belief in Hinduism and our polytheism. They told me to go to temples with them, I went. I prayed because they were praying, & I mean, believing in God seemed like a normal life process. As I got older, the religious ceremonies and prayers became more time consuming activities, and not in a good way. I didn’t feel like going all the way to Pittsburgh or Queens to go to various temples when I thought logically, it made sense to just pray to all of the idols we had all over our house. I still believed in all of my Gods, but I didn’t want to take the time out of the rest of my life to go be grateful for something or to ask for something to someone who, at that point in my life, I wasn’t even sure existed.

At 17, I had a minor health scare which was a slight ordeal, but the residual (temporary) effect was an extremely swollen left side of my face & a crooked one-sided smile. At 17, we’re all narcissists and high school is a hall of mirrors reflected back to you in the faces of your peers. I was a senior; I didn’t quite process that my life had just been saved, I only knew that prom was coming, yearbook pictures were coming, & graduation pictures were coming. One day, I was so infuriated by the distorted reflection staring back at me in my mirror, that I threw it across the room & threw a nearby religious idol with it. I was so pissed off that any of this could be occurring, & naturally, I blamed God. I mean, if there were Gods, why would They ever let this tragedy happen to me? God isn’t supposed to allow for suffering, He/They (for me) are supposed to make sure that They protect you and take care of you. From that point forward, at a gradual pace that I didn’t even recognize until years later, my belief waned. The more terrible things I heard about in the world, the more (in hindsight, minor) things that came my way to overcome, the less I followed my parents’ customs anymore, the less I believed in prayer, & the more I sat in the car when they dragged us to the temple (by the way, this didn’t all just start because my face was a partially inflated balloon, I’m not that vain, but that is the first moment I recall really feeling a change). For many years following that, I became an atheist. I just couldn’t bring myself to feel that strength of faith or shift in energy or positivity in prayer or in God or the idea of God anymore. I had many “why me?” moments that we all have, but they didn’t propel me to seek a higher order; I just attributed it to “whatever, that’s life” & moved on. Sounds great when I write it that way, but when I look back now, those times in my life were when I felt the loneliest & most defeated.

I’m not sure exactly when I started to believe again, which is interesting in its own right because I just told you the exact moment when I stopped. Anyway, over many years, in a “slow & steady wins the race” kind of mentality, my faith slowly began to resurface. I didn’t throw a tantrum when we had religious events at home (my parents would always kick my ass anyway, but at least now they didn’t have to go through that whole absurd process anymore), I walked into the temple & paid my respects at least, and I did pray here and there for my family’s well being and for myself as well. Fast forward what I presume to be 10 years later to the present day. At 32, I can say I’ve become faithful again. Over the course of the past 4 months, both of my parents almost lost their lives and in the process, I nearly lost my everything, including my mind (thank God[s], they are both doing well now). In what is something that I deem entirely inexplicable, during this time, I experienced a pure faith resurgence to a level that I didn’t even have as a child, but we’ll chalk that up to less experience & understanding back then. While in the hospital with my dad for 3 days in late October and in two hospitals for 5 days + 3 weeks with my mom from January-February, I dug out the little Zip-Loc bag holding what had been labeled my “crew” almost 2 decades ago. A little plastic baggie that I had been carrying on & off for years filled with pocket-sized religious hymn books, small deities, etcetera, that had only ever been taken to exams in college or medical school and on plane rides. I [barely] slept on a recliner at each hospital with it attached to my side, one earphone plugged into my ear playing religious songs on an iTunes loop, and just imagined that these deities were in front of me in real life, from all different walks of life, & I would simply pray for one thing; that my parents would be okay (I still do this every night, only now, I thank Them all). In the beginning, it was more of a mind-diverting activity, just something to do to keep my mind off of the scarier things that were happening. But over time, I felt a palpable shift in energy within myself & outside of myself. I suppose it’s something you can only explain to someone else who has felt it, or actually in that case, you probably wouldn’t have to explain anything at all, but it was there. I began to have the depth of a feeling I had never felt before and I still couldn’t tell you what it is now, so I just keep calling it faith, but it’s more complex and intuitive than that (it’s like an Ivy Leaguer in the institutional hierarchy of emotions). It’s moved me to a point where I’ve been in tears because of it, it helps curb impressive anxiety attacks at times, it gave me the actual inner desire to go to the temple three times a week, & it has provided me with an overwhelming sense of gratitude that I cannot soon repay; and I can honestly say, I cannot remember the last time I prayed for myself. I inherently know what is most important to me & as long as I can graciously express thankfulness and gracefully ask for protection for my beloveds, I’m pretty sure Someone(s) up there or out there has got my back. (I completely forgot how much I loved that “Footprints In The Sand” poem until I started writing this post & I think my family has been “carried” a lot lately).

This isn’t meant to be an insane preachy Peter Popoff post. Let me reassure you of that right now. And also, sorry if it came off that way. But I promise I will not attempt to change your beliefs, I will not ask you to donate to my life fund, & I will not mail you Holy Water vials of any kind. You will also not be a witness to any miraculous occurrences, & for that one, I apologize! It’s simply a sentiment that I wanted to bring to light because I have an inkling that there are probably many of you out there like me. You may have suffered a hiccup in your faith in something, whatever it may be, and it may remain long gone or it may have resurfaced, but I’m sure (I hope!) plenty of people out there have had this experience and sometimes it’s nice to put something out there that may make someone else feel less alone. I know I felt extremely alone and even somewhat guilty in my faithless phase. That’s why I just urge you to put your belief in something. In anything. Believe in religion, believe in a higher power, believe in energy, believe in gratitude, believe in meditation; hell, believe in logic! But believe, wholeheartedly, in something..because it may help you find something you didn’t even know you were looking for.

P.S. My brother is an admitted atheist and while we don’t understand each other in that respect, his unwavering belief in logic and practicality is a spectacular thing to experience.

And if you’re not in the mood for any of the above, fear not, for in the immortal words of Diana King: I’ll say a little prayer for you.

“Today’s Interlude” is an excerpt from a New York Times article (linked below) that really hit home for me. But though there are no instruments, this poetry is still just as melodic.

“Dear God,” I begin,”Whatever we call you / Wherever we find you / in the laughter of our children / the tenderness of our parents / the strength of our brothers and sisters and friends/the closeness of our companions and husbands and wives. / In the arc of the pelican/the leap of the mullet, / the perfect sunny day / or incoming storm / In whatever ways we understand you, / in a church or synagogue or mosque, / or on a beach beneath a starry sky, / we offer gratitude for this day.” -Roy Hoffman, “Remembering To Pray”

Below, some art pieces I did during bouts of questioning, insomnia, and belief.

Solo Sojourns: The Legacy of the “Me Trip”

Today’s Mood Ingredients: Nomadic, Adventurous, Introspective, Light, Free.

One of the greatest things I’ve ever done to facilitate my own independence and feed my desire to connect with as many kindred and non-kindred spirits as possible was to start taking “Me Trips” back when I started college. I know you’re waiting with bated breath for me to explain (because the name isn’t self-explanatory at all), so here we go. When I was a freshman, many of my closest friends were at different schools, so our spring breaks never coincided. I’m one of those rarities on the planet that has never been to Cancun for spring break. I never had a wild week of unadulterated all-inclusive fun; at least not in college. When faced with the option of sitting at home for a week doing nothing but morosely imagining the others on the beach (pre-Facebook photo days, you guys aka TORTURE), I decided to just up & leave and go on a trip by myself. It was nothing spectacular the first time (Virginia and Washington, DC), but the whole idea of leaving for a different city by myself with no concrete itinerary was so enthralling, even the mall seemed spectacular because it was in another city. Now, back in the day, before I went delinquent for a while, my parents were hyper-paranoid and I was an angel child. Trying to convince them that I was going to drive to Virginia from New York alone, stay in a hotel alone, and hopefully return (alone) was one of the most difficult processes that no human being should ever have to go through. But, I’m a Scorpio and I’m stubborn and I’m determined and I guess I was convincing (“Mom! You always say you want me to be independent! How will I do so in the house all break while you feed me!? I have to experience life.” Yeah, whatever, you were all that preachy at 17 too!). So, I packed a bag with clothes, money, the brick of a cell phone I had just gotten in January of 2000 “for emergencies only,” & some books, and bounded out the door.

I remember being extremely excited that I was going on a trip by myself and I would meet so many new people and see so many new things and learn so much more about myself that the first thing I did was get lost on the way. It’s a straight road from NYC to VA/DC, but I get lost if I come out of a different subway exit, so this was par for the course for me. With no navigation system & NO WAY IN HELL being the basic idea behind calling my dad for directions, my “spring break” started off by gas station hopping (party animal) to find out exactly how I could get to my destination. When I got to my little Holiday Inn room, I was thrilled (this was pre-anxiety that a serial killer would strangle me Lifetime movie style days). I looked around, called my parents to tell them that I still had all limbs intact and I was only late in arriving because of traffic, not due to being directionally impaired, and..bounded out the door.

The 5 days I spent in Virginia & DC are still some of my most fondly remembered ones. I went to the Smithsonian, National Air & Space Museum, The White House, Washington Monument, Lincoln & Jefferson Memorials, Arlington Cemetery, & of course, the Arlington Mall (as in shopping, not historical). I meandered along the large exhibits and really took the time to understand the things that I actually liked in life. I found that my childhood predilection for museums and history was still raring to go as long as I didn’t have a 40 question exam or 2,000 word essay relying on it afterwards. I experienced the DC nightlife, unknowingly ended up at an awesome lesbian nightclub (“Come to the firehouse party tomorrow night, I’ll take you as my date!”) which I didn’t know at the time was a lesbian nightclub, I just thought it was “ladies’ night” and people in DC were much nicer than in New York (see why I needed the “independence”!?), made a new friend at a hip hop bar who I was in touch with for a couple of years afterwards, went back to the hotel happy and renewed and ready to go home..and bounded out the door.

After that first experience, I was hooked. “Me Trips” became my sanity and I vowed to take one at least once a year. I went to the Bahamas with no plans and ended up going to fire-breathing show, kayaking for the first time by myself (resulting in spaghetti arms), & meeting a girl and her mom from the next town over from me on Long Island. We met on a Bahamian snorkeling/booze cruise on which I ended up as “Limbo Queen” and won a bottle of long gone rum. From there, I took a flight to Miami, rented a red convertible to fulfill my long-harbored dream of being whatever people in red convertibles at the time were, had a beautiful dinner of pasta and wine on Lincoln Road alone while reading a paperback which I then left in the back of a cab I took to go to Mansion, a nightclub there. I encountered a bachelorette party of girls with whom I ended up having mutual connections, stayed at one of their apartments, & headed to Orlando on the Amtrak the next day. Most people call me a nutjob, but I have been to Miami’s Holocaust Museum alone, I’ve truly and thoroughly enjoyed The Magic Kingdom alone, I’ve gone to a club in Orlando and met a couple who ended up inviting me to their wedding later that year, and I still go to dinner and movies and short road trips alone when I can’t manage the time for a full Me Trip. The experiences I’ve had on all of those journeys are absolutely incomparable and unique and considering I remember so many details, and more importantly, feelings, from these trips, it is clear that they have in some way shaped me as well. I just remember feeling new. That’s the best way I can put it. Intrigued, revived, alive, enthusiastic..and ever ready to bound out the door.

My family has gotten used to it even if they don’t understand it because it was and IS the greatest feeling in the world to take some time for yourself away from your familiar surroundings and the regular hubbub of daily life and just connect with yourself as a human being. Your likes, dislikes, experiences can all be influenced by those around you so once in a while, why not take off and see what it is that really resonates with you? I credit my Me Trips with much of the hyper self-awareness that I have today. I can honestly say that I know exactly what makes an impact with me, exactly what I like and don’t like and why, what my flaws are, what my assets are, what has shaped me and how, and what I want for myself from this point forward. To be attuned to yourself is a fabulous thing because I don’t second guess my decisions as much as I used to, and that is a fantastic feeling. I feel rejuvenated when I am away and have a clarity of thought that is difficult to produce when you’re surrounded by so many pressures and stressors and responsibilities. Alone doesn’t equal lonely and I strongly urge everyone to find the time to take a Me Trip and really understand what makes you, you.

I hope you’re bounding out the door.

Today’s Interlude: I 9, “Same In Any Language”

(Pictures Below – sadly none of Virginia/DC..pre-digicam days!: 1. Red convertible stunting in Miami, 2. Nicole, a girl I met in the Bahamas with her mom, & myself at Señor Frog’s, 3. Random bachelorette party at Mansion, Miami, 4. Limbo Queen on a Bahamian booze cruise, 5. New friends in the Bahamas at the Breezes resort where I was not staying, 6. Front & center at Cinderella’s house, 7. Knights of Fire show in the Bahamas, 8. Nicole’s mom, Nicole, the bouncer, & me at Señor Frog’s, 9. Bride-to-be Monique & her BFF at an Orlando lounge, 10. New friends in Miami, 11. New friends in Orlando, 12. New friend Rahul & I at B.E.D. in Miami, 13. Holocaust Museum in Miami, 14. Wedding party friends at Breezes in the Bahamas, 15. My 1st time snorkeling, 16. A new Orlando police officer friend, 17. Nicole & I on the Bahamian booze cruise, 18. Kayaking for the 1st time)