Goodbye 2018, Hello 2019

Happy new year! I know it’s been a little while; the end of 2018 seemed to fly by. I’m in disbelief that it’s actually 2019–this is the year I graduate from college!

To kick off this year, I wanted to follow the trend of compiling some of my favorite things from 2018. I love a good list, so I put together some of the books, movies, and music I read, watched, and listened to this year that I think are worth telling everyone about. I’ll include that below.

But while I was reflecting, I realized that even though I thought most of my experiences this year had been kinda tough and not worth revisiting, the opposite was true. My list of experiences that I’m grateful for this year is my longest (and I’m sure I’m missing a few things, too).

For starters, I began my year in Germany and then really kicked it off in Paris. Even though I was feeling lost in translation–in many ways–it was still Paris. And it gave me friends and memories I don’t think I’ll ever lose.

I spent another lovely spring break in San Diego and Palm Springs.

Fast forward to my 21st birthday (finally!) in June, and I celebrated it with my queen Taylor Swift and my person, a boy who I’ve been sharing my favorite music with since 2014.

In the midst of a messy summer, I took a trip with my mom that grounded both of us.

I went on a sunset boat cruise on Lake Michigan. Aside from being absolutely beautiful, it felt like the perfect symbol of things falling together. I started a new job, I was pursuing another, and I was making peace with the time it had taken to get to that point.

I finally brought my roommate and college bestie home to meet my childhood bestie and see my small town. It was a quick but restful weekend.

The job that I mentioned pursuing is going really well; I loved my first semester of working at a newspaper. It’s equal parts challenging and rewarding and watching the daily collaboration is kind of mind-blowing, in the best way.

I spent Christmas in Alabama with JT’s family. I was really nervous to do something different for Christmas (I’m used to MI christmases with my family), but it was a really great week. We watched the sunset on the beach in Gulf Shores on Christmas Eve, went for a boat ride on Christmas Day, and even saw dolphins.

Finally, I ended the year with JT and his friends dancing, a very fun NYE for the most part.

Now, it’s the first day of 2019 and JT and I are exploring the area that we plan to move to after graduation. It’s a scary and exciting glimpse into the future–this coming year in a nutshell.

So here’s to 2019; thank you, Universe, for the people and amazing experiences I got to have with them in 2018. I’m open to all the opportunities, connections, and memories you can bring me in this new year.

And I wish the same for you ✨


From 2018…

Book recs:

1 – The Crown Ain’t Worth Much, Hanif Abdurraqib

2 – Mean, Myriam Gurba

3 – Refuse, Julian Randall

4 – Her Body and Other Parties, Carmen Maria Machado

Movie recs:

1 – A Star is Born

2 – The Favourite

Music:

1 – Golden Hour, Kacey Musgraves

2 – Dan + Shay (self-titled)

3 – Shawn Mendes (self-titled)

Writer’s Block

I DID NOT plan to lose my voice in Paris. I don’t mean my physical voice (though there were moments when a cough threatened to overtake my roommate and me). I mean the voice that is coming through right now, my writing voice. Literally, the most important thing that I have. My go-to form of communication and expression and processing. If you’re not a writer or an avid reader, maybe this is something you’ve never thought about before, but just like everyone has a unique way of sounding like themselves while talking, every writer has a way of sounding like themselves on the page. My voice may be slightly different when I am typing a personal essay versus this blog post here, or an entry in my writing journal versus my personal journal, or even a tweet compared to any of my other methods, but they all sound like me.

I’ve mentioned my Paris journal repeatedly, as well as shared a couple entries from it; we had to write at least two a day. I have been practicing journal keeping for most of my life, but more seriously for the last two years. I am proud of my current writing journal, it is where I let ideas take form before I share them here or use the seeds I’ve planted in other work. It sounds like the writer I am growing to be, like the writer I want to be, and it takes practice to do that. My journal’s sophistication vastly outweighs that of any of its predecessors; it shows what I’ve learned and honed in my last three years of writing workshops, in the most casual and intimate way.

Last summer, while walking through a tourist shop in Fishtown (Leland, MI), I came upon a beautiful notebook. The cover had an illustration of a mermaid with a blue-scaled tail, accompanied by the Anais Nin quote, “I must be a mermaid because I have no fear of depths and a great fear of living a shallow life.” I loved it. More illustrations and quotes were on every few pages. As I held it in my hands, I decided it would be my Paris journal. I was sure I could fill the pages that were inspiring me with more words I could be proud of.

I wrote a detailed take on my first readings of Hemingway before our trip on the first few pages, on Christmas Eve–off to a good start. I didn’t pick it up again until our second day in Paris, and I found that nothing I had to say seemed worthy of writing down, nothing held the same level of reflection or insight or hint of my personality or craft ability. I am sure that my writer’s block came from stress and discomfort and sensory overload, among other things. I am also sure that feeling all of those things, in PARIS for crying out loud, made my frustration worse.

Eventually, I found my voice again. I realized later that it was because I was forced to keep at it, making myself dig for something to write every day about the trip and about the discussions we were having in our workshop. Every time I returned to the page, I got a little closer to sounding like myself. I stopped letting outside forces intimidate me; I stopped half-heartedly participating. I had to be present, in my body, drawing on my previous experiences and challenging myself to grow.

Getting out of my writer’s block was not a miracle; I made it happen through writing when I was most unsure of what I was putting on the page. I’m not sure I could’ve learned a more valuable lesson than that as a young writer.

Unexpected Lessons From Abroad

In my previous posts, I’ve mentioned that Paris gave me a lot—a lot to think about, to write about, to be happy or humble or appreciative of. The commonality between each of the things I feel like I gained from my trip is that I didn’t expect them. Or, rather, all of my expectations were far exceeded in the City of Lights.

Friends ~

I hoped to make friends; I did not expect to meet people that I know would do virtually anything for me. I did not expect to know that after a week of knowing them. That is huge, that will never not be huge, and even if we don’t talk or spend as much time together now as we did in those whirlwind two weeks, I know that we’ll always have Paris, and because of that, I will always have them if I need them. I see so much beauty and potential in all of them, for individual reasons, and I felt that reflected back to me. That support is everything, the feeling of it can’t be diminished, even over time and distance.

(Not) Writing ~

I planned to write things that I am proud of; looking back now, I realize that I did. But in bits and pieces that mostly came together in the end, because I learned that even when you travel to a magical foreign city, TO WRITE, you can somehow find yourself with a case of writer’s block (see my next post all about this biggest pain in my butt, I mean lesson).

Self-Love ~

As I wrote before I started my international trip, I intended my travel to be full of self-love. I wanted to allow myself to enjoy all the new experiences I was having, but to take the best care of myself that I could so that I could minimize any other negative feelings or experiences. That’s a lot to ask of yourself in a completely foreign place, where you have no established routine, no recognizable situations of anxiety or overwhelm because each situation is new.

So, no, I didn’t always take the best care of myself that I could, despite my best attempts. This lead to slight illnesses, embarrassing mistakes, and experiences that I can only learn from. The unexpected lesson being: you have to love yourself even more when you mess up. It does no good to berate yourself internally when you are travelling. You may be surrounded by amazing new people who will do what they can to make you feel better, but ultimately, it’s up to you to brush off what you’re upset at or not proud of. It’s the only thing that will allow you to take the lesson and move forward. When you’re limited on time, this is especially crucial; you don’t want to spend a few days down on yourself when you could be out, letting yourself live your best life in a beautiful new place.

Accepting My Limits ~

Before Paris, I had a mental image of museum hopping and going out every single night. Basically, being much busier and much more extroverted than I am in my daily life. However, very quickly upon getting there, I surprised myself; I accepted that I could not do everything. We had two pieces of writing, plus a typed assignment, and often upwards of 50 pages of reading due each day. So, with studying alone, I had A LOT going on. That isn’t to say I didn’t explore Paris. I think everything that I managed to do – multiple city tours, two trips to Montmartre, thrift shopping all over the city, browsing Parisian book stores, a visit to the Louvre, a trip to Versaille, seeing the Eiffel Tower and going on a sunset boat cruise on the Seine, hitting three Parisian bars in one night, going to a jazz club, finding my own way to the Pantheon, and many fabulous meals and glasses of wine in cute cafes – was not too shabby for my first time in Paris.

Yes, I could’ve done more. A constant question I’m asked is if I went up in the Eiffel Tower. My answer has surprised and disappointed many; no, I didn’t. I intended to, to visit it a second time, to be more dressed up and to take in the spectacular view of Paris from the Tower itself. It didn’t pan out; only one other opportunity outside of my group’s first excursion presented itself, and that day, I needed to focus on that self-care stuff I was talking about. Maybe that doesn’t explain it well enough, but this time around, I was happy just to see it. It felt like enough to know that it was there, to be staring at it from the gray marbled steps first, and later, from the riverbank. I saw it against Paris’ beautiful, dreary, blue afternoon sky, and I watched it glitter in flashes of gold at exactly 6 pm against the blanket of navy that had crept over the city.

I was content in knowing that I would be there again someday, and we could get to know each other better then. Maybe that’s the real lesson from all of this; I know myself better now, after my first time in Paris.

Heading Home, Finding Direction

Last departure thoughts, 1-19-18:

Leaving Paris before sunrise feels disrespectful, like a lover stealing away in the night. I tried to take in my last glimpses of the city through our shuttle windows, but everything was still horribly out of context. Paris is far too large and old to have figured out in two and a half weeks. She’s too complicated, and claiming less is an insult.

I am happy to be headed home, to my own bed for the first time in almost a month, to my best friend, to my boyfriend, and to my family. I am excited to hear American English, to not feel my harsh Midwestern voice so out of place. To be back in control; yes, I have been able to wander this beautiful, foreign city alone, but I haven’t felt confident or knowledgeable. I am out of my familiar, and I’m feeling exhausted because of it. I want to rest, I want to organize, I want to take charge of my life again.


Rediscovering this journal now, a month later, is so fitting. I’ve been swept up by the spring semester, and I am still striving to feel that sense of control, even back in my familiar at home. My trip happened so quickly, it was hard to put into words at first, or to know if I had written any that I felt were worth sharing. This past month has given me enough time to try to put this into perspective, and I think evaluating what I gained, what I learned, during my travels just may be the key to unlocking a new sense balance and a positive attitude for the future.

Stay tuned for the reflection(s) to come!

ALL My People

It’s move-in weekend; the bluntest reminder that I have two homes. My definition of home is roughly 4 parts people and 2 parts geography, and I don’t want to write to the idea of being grateful for places (today, anyway). So, to finish a piece I’ve been working on for weeks about the amazing people I have in my life, I want to talk about the wonderful phenomenon of realizing you have more people that you know (or remember) you do.

My two homes include the one I grew up in, and the one I made for myself when I left for college. My first transitional period of leaving one place and claiming another was one of the most difficult and lonely times – at first – but the magic to that drastic change was that it showed me who I had. And, more than that, it gave me new people. It was a time when my world felt uprooted and, consequently, so small that I regularly counted whom I had to go to. Only, I didn’t count everyone. There were people I forgot or was too preoccupied or scared to reach out to.

I have come to acknowledge this miscounting of the army of those I rely on and gain perspective, inspiration, and help from as a bad habit. I’m doing my best to break it.

Thankfully, in the last two years, I’ve made so many friendships. Some last days, some last semesters, and some have lasted from the first day of move-in freshman year and continue to grow stronger. In any case, I’ve appreciated crossing paths. I’ve also tried to strengthen old connections; I’ve realized the value of a coffee date and good conversation or even weekly phone calls with friends who have known me since elementary school. These small efforts show people that they matter to you, and I’m doing my best to do better at that because the crux of my bad habit is focusing too hard on a few and forgetting that I have, like I said, many wonderful people in my life.

The biggest lesson I learned during my rough transition into college was the importance of allowing my two homes to coexist peacefully, to appreciate each for their different qualities. And so, I have to connect that lesson to people, as they are what I think of before physical locations. What I mean is, the phrases ‘my family’ or my ‘best friends’ include people that have never met or lived in the same place or even know what my daily life looks like. And that’s fine – the point is that if I picked up a phone or got on a train or a bus or a plane or needed any kind of advice – from writing to life – someone would be there, someone would answer. It’s my instinct to want to organize and thus quantify how many someone’s I have, but the premise of this entire idea is that I can’t – and that that is the greatest thing The Universe has shown me so far.

Here’s to a great school year of being surrounded and supported (no matter the distance) by those who make you feel like you matter.

 

(Image from Pinterest.)

Best Self Discovery

I recently read Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed. Cheryl’s advice always seemed to, either directly or indirectly, speak to the concept of being your best self, encouraging her advice seekers to be honest and compassionate with themselves and/or those in their lives.

This concept of being your best self, even the simplicity and elegance of the phrase, has stuck with me, causing me to give a lot of thought to what my “best Kristen” would act like. In no particular order, here are the qualities and behaviors I think my best self has (or could have):

Evaluating my own reactions; in other words, not getting angry or upset so easily. Using rationality over emotions more often to avoid unnecessary words or actions.

Letting go of things I don’t need and things that I can’t change; releasing negative emotions like anger, hurt, judgement, fear and other feelings that don’t serve me – only love, positivity, determination, and compassion do.

Having confidence; always feeling comfortable in my own skin, owning my body and knowledge and experience and not being afraid to take up space.

Being productive; doing things that serve me, mainly writing and accomplishing tasks/goals that I have, as well as reading and spending quality time with people I love (not spending so much aimless time app-hopping on my phone).

Also taking time for myself; a bit of unproductive phone time, but mostly healthy, reflective activities like morning walks, workout or yoga sessions, and the above listed activities.

Giving; to be generous with my time and attention and material things, but with healthy boundaries.

Learning; being open and ready to absorb new skills, information, and to meet new people.

These are definitely not the end-all, be-all of “best self” attributes, but the entire process of coming up with this image of my personal best self has been cathartic and motivating. Especially because, while I was in the middle of giving my list thought, I had an appointment with a craniosacral healer, Jamie VanDam. She spoke to me about making clear intentions and being aware of the energy I allowed in as well as the energy I was emitting outward.

Each of these ideas – being my best, setting intentions, being aware of energy – were ones I was familiar with, but not as fully immersed in before I thought of them together after being first inspired by Cheryl Strayed and then through my craniosacral work. I am not saying that you need to read any of Cheryl’s work or to have energy work done on you – though both are wonderful things – but they seemed to be the dominoes that tipped together to help me take a new approach to self-improvement.

I hope you find the things or people that inspire you to reflect (and act) on what does (or could) make you your best self.