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The Processing Mind

  • Chapter Four: Aüggst.

    August 21st, 2025

    Sometimes a dream is only meant to have a portfolio — not an audition, or a role — a handshake, if you will, before it can go on its merry way.

    Check in.

    I’m happy. I have a steady morning routine. I am proud of the fact that I am actively writing, nearly every day, whether that be composing songs on the piano, writing poetry, or dedicating time to my blog — I’m writing. A lot. See? I’m doing it write now — I mean right* now. That was a natural mistake, I actually did that. It’s not a cheap joke — it happened, I – anyway… I’m writing. I have a stable morning routine. I play ball on the weekends. I spend quality time with my son in the mornings, work is fruitful, my personality is piercing through the blinds; I’m being seen, just as I am seeing myself. I am happy.

    Double Check in.

    It is now August 21st, and everything has changed. I haven’t written since I wrote this on the plane flying home from Honolulu in Jöölai; I haven’t played any ball this month, either; my son has entered his terrible two’s — five months late, thank god: any sooner and I don’t think I would have made it. And, to top it all off, I have strayed so far from the goals that created this blog in the first place. I haven’t been intentional with my movement, my water, my food, my sleep, my spending, my friendships, I mean — what happened? I feel I am in a constant battle with myself over these things and yet, still, I am happy, so that’s gotta mean something.

    Moving forward.

    Goals

    My original goals for this month were to spend more time with my dog, stay focused on my basketball matches, and incorporate more playing time in-between my writing sessions, specifically video games, piano, even the guitar. I have done none of those things — and that’s not to say I neglect my dog, he just deserves more than his servings of food, water, and bathroom breaks. I also wanted to take a dance class this month with my sister and celebrate my husband’s 28th lap around the sun (which is the only thing I can really say with confidence has been achieved — though, not the dancing part, my husband’s birthday — which, if we’re being honest, was coming with or without me, but more on this later). The only real goal I have stayed true to is actually a secret I hope to reveal by the end of this month, which of course, is coming up pretty fast. 

    And my first instinct is to write a pick-me-up line and say, despite everything, not all is lost, because it’s true. I’ve had a great month. I’m happy. Life is good. How? Why? Because instead of listing out all my mishandled goals and sulking over my failures, I recognize that, all of this, is voluntary. 

    I’m an adult. I am not being graded on my level of growth. Growth is not just about solving some self-concocted mystery of who we are, it’s about embracing every detail of the road while we’re driving to who we want to be; the views can change from sights of green to brown to yellow to blue; roads can be a one way, freeway, high way; lanes can be closed and detours insisted; traffic lights come in three colors, for a reason. One day, Forrest Gump just decided to stop running, but why, if it was in the middle of the road, with nothing in sight, no destination to justify an ending? Because it’s not about the ending, it never is. It’s about stopping to smell the roses, and then searching for another field, with different smelling roses. It’s about the moment. What you’re doing now.

    Life is not defined by the destination, we hear this all the time. Life is an RV in constant motion to different campsites. Settling in, packing up, and moving out. It’s a cycle, just like the time on a clock and the days in a year; the seasons, the generations, it’s all cyclical. So much so that sometimes I get dizzy, but then I take a step back, and take a detour.

    Not all dreams were meant to breathe life into this world. Sometimes just starting to create life in a dream is enough to lay it back down to rest. That is the kind of life we have the power to create and so make life about the process of creating, not the creation. 

    And something I can say I’ve been doing very regularly this month has been, reading.

    *Gasp* I know.

    Unfortunately, something it’s forced me to discover about myself is that I — am a very slow reader.

    21 days, 15 minutes per, and only 30 pages to show for it. 

    Sigh. Nevertheless, I am happy. 

    So, if all I do for the rest of this month is embrace my morning routine, my work, and my slowness, I will work to be intentional in my practice of accepting these things as enough.

    What about you? Can you accept yourself as enough? Is what you’re doing enough?

    Think about it.

    Cheers, 
    B.

  • Jöölai, ft The Curated Drop: The Growth & Grind Report

    August 10th, 2025

    I thought I’d be embarrassed about arriving late to the party, but as it turns out — everyone’s just happy I made it.

    I grew up an uncomfortable kid; slow to learning, becoming, loving — I thought my skin needed tattoos to be beautiful and that my friend’s list had to fill an over-dramatically long scroll to prove that I mattered. I’m the youngest of five and I wasn’t just the smallest; I was the smallest. My voice? Always muffled. Common sense? Never developed. My academia? Under performed. I was small.

    I’d ask my parents what would make them proud but there’d always be something lying around that would make them prouder — I grew up an uncomfortable kid. 

    And though it’s thrown me off my path more times than I care to count, my husband likes to remind me that it’s not my past that gets me home, it’s my present. Everything I do now, is my compass; it’s on me.

    He’s right. My parents have taken their respective step down as my coach and have fallen back into the stands, as my newly found cheerleaders. I am both the coach and the runner, as well as the official who shoots the pistol.

    I am the one who says, “On your marks.”
    The planner who sets the day.
    The designer of the track.
    The one who chooses the lane.
    And the one who decides when and when not —
    to run.

    I used to wonder where principles came from and when mine would finally make an appearance. Nobody told me they don’t just show up at your door — you’re supposed to build them. 

    So, I’m late to the party — I don’t know what I believe in or what I’m willing to stand for. I’m a fool.

    I pretend, by-stand, avoid — I’m a full-functioning adult, and yet an overstimulated toddler all over again.

    I used to deny my menstrual cycle — and for what? I’d deny its ability to hijack my emotions, as if all feelings somehow appeared out of thin air, and then when Red came knocking, I’d be too scared to ask my mom for the proper coverage, so all that left me with were stacks upon stacks of bloody underwear and a downward spiral of self-care, not to mention confidence. I grew up an uncomfortable kid.

    I don’t have the best stories. I grew up the buff girl, the unhygienic girl, and the girl who cried over having to go get a physical. I didn’t gain consciousness until college and the fact is, even after almost a decade of it — college — later, I’m still just trying to find my way.

    Man, this is extremely hard to write. And I think it’s especially hard because I’m a mom now, and I just can’t believe all this happened behind my back. Like, if the mom in me had just kicked in a little sooner, maybe I could have caught some of my worst falls, and then maybe I’d be farther along by now.

    And I know, I know… I didn’t know any better, and yet still, I grieve. I grieve for her, for me. Over and over the memories play back in my mind, the hopelessness ceases to fade, and I’m left in a cyclical pothole of mourning.

    Knock knock. It’s me — your husband. Remember what I told you. Focus on the now, and take your time, we’re all here waiting for you.

    And just like that, he brings me back.

    Okay, so maybe I don’t know what my principles are right now, that’s okay — I’ll build them.

    And maybe I didn’t recognize the science behind my cycle back then, that’s okay — I do now.

    And maybe I don’t know which race I want to run yet, that’s okay — one day, I will.

    For now, I’ll just sit in the process of it all, because that’s the heart of life in its most candid form.

    I reckon that’s enough emotional sap for one day, why don’t you go wet a paper towel and wipe off the residue — let’s move on to the curated drop.

    The Growth & Grind Report

    I might not have done a lot, but I’ve done enough. As I’ve mentioned before, I am deathly afraid of dancing in front of people. I get stiff, I can’t improvise, I can’t get over the fear of embarrassing myself, but during my Hawaii trip, I took the stage.

    Watch:

    People were watching, the music was definitely not loud enough for them to understand what I was dancing to, but I was not watching them. I put on my shades and tuned them out. Kinda like how they say to wear a cap at the gym and keep your head down so you can’t see the eyes. I couldn’t see them, because I wasn’t looking for them. I put on my shades and danced to the beat of my own heart — that and Chris Brown, you can find the song here btw. I wasn’t perfect, but I was there. Right on the top of Mt. Everest, a metaphorical mountain I never expected to actually climb, only dream to. 

    But look at me now. 

    And I dedicate that dance to the follicular phase of the menstrual cycle because without it, I don’t surmise I would have been in the right mind to pull it off. I’d be too overwhelmed with fear and doubt and a cannot attitude to execute something I knew in my heart I’d love.

    I also made it a point to pocket my insecurities during my trip and wear the damn two-piece bathing suit anyway. I genuinely brought it without the expectation that I’d wear it, but low and behold, I did.

    I mean, this trip really brought out my ability to actually accept the freedom I had been so gracefully given. I didn’t recognize myself. I felt …big, bold, and honest. I felt like Tomiee Cruise.

    I reserved space for myself and honored my box hotel — I could have easily checked out early and spent each night with my girls in their shared hotel, and the truth is I would have in the past, but I didn’t. I saved room for my space. I embraced it and let me tell you, I loved every minute of it.

    I was completely indulged in self-empowerment. I wore the skirt, the crop top, the bathing suit; I mean, my fit went way beyond my usual norm. But my favorite part about it was how safe I felt in my own skin. So, thanks, Föllie. You’re the real homegirl.

    Aside from my trip, I’m also learning how to take my shots in basketball. Most of the time I get too intimidated by the guard and resort to making the pass, but little by little, I’m practicing my ball handling and seizing the moment when it reveals itself to me.

    Mira! (aka “Look!” in Spanish)

    Not me crying in the club like 

    I also got to step into my supervisor role at work and lead a group of people on my own for the very first time ever in my Costco career — oh, did I mention I work at Costco? Hi, I work at Costco. 

    Like literally, you know what? Who said I didn’t do a lot? Cancel, this month was golden.

    Aüggst, bring it on, baby. Though I’m late, I’m very much ready.

    That’s it for the Growth & Grind Report. 

    What’s something you did this month that you’re proud of? Anything out of the ordinary? Something worth doing again?

    Think about it.

    Cheers,
    B.

  • Jöölai, ft. The Curated Drop: The Reading & Rhythm Report

    August 8th, 2025

    “If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.”
    — Stephen King

    The saddest part about Jöölai just might be the saddest part about Aüggst — they’re fillers. You know, episodes without any meaning but are there to fill in the space; to serve as a reminder that I’m still here and don’t forget about me. And of course, I don’t want to believe it, but it’s hard to imagine they’re not.

    I showed up late to Jöölai’s party, didn’t bring a gift, ate all of the food, and left without saying a proper goodbye. And the voice inside my head is spinning; crying out but you grew, though. You grew so much. Why be so unkind to yourself?

    Well, because here I am, at the Reading & Rhythm Report, and I’ve got absolutely nothing to say. 

    I didn’t read, I barely wrote, not to mention I held my dribble (aka I hardly played any ball). To the voice screaming at me from the other side of the room, I did. I did grow, and yet there’s an ache in my stomach that no amount of TUMS can suppress —

    My disappointment. 

    I thought I’d be farther along by now, but I should have known better because — and though shameful — I also thought I could get away with only sharing a refined version of the truth. And that’s not to say that what I’ve written isn’t honest, I’ve just allowed it to serve as a distraction from the things I’ve told you I wanted but have yet to do. 

    For instance, read. 

    Sigh, insert heartburn.

    Maybe I don’t want it enough. Maybe I only wanted it because of how it would make me look instead of how it would make me feel. Everyone loves a reader. Readers are smart. They know things. 

    I also know, I cannot be a writer without it. So, it has to become a nonnegotiable — just like my water intake (another thing I have also been failing at lately but have distracted you from circling back to — I bet you can’t even remember the last time I spoke about my water intake, you know what I mean?) You see? I’m not lying, I’m distracting, but that’s only hurting myself.

    So, game plan:

    I’ll start small. Ten minutes a day. No page count, just a good old-fashioned timer. I’ll keep a book on the nightstand, one in my lunch bag, one on my desk, and one in the car. I need to actively make it a part of my day, and you know what they say — out of sight, out of mind, so they’ll just have to be everywhere.

    Audibles on deck:

    101 Essays That Will Change the Way You Think by Brianna Wiest
    The Let Them Theory by Mel Robbins

    Paperback:

    Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell
    Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman

    The plan is not perfect, and if it fails I’ll try something else — I take comfort in the fact that I’m trying. 

    Now, on to the bops.

    Jöölai’s Line-Up: Spotify Style

    1. Momma by Joyner Lucas & Chris Brown
    2. Chemical by Post Malone
    3. On The Coast by Citizen Papes
    4. Indecision by Sampha
    5. Yellow Brick Road by Quinn XCII

      Maybe I didn’t walk out on Jöölai, maybe I drank too much and knocked out on her couch. Maybe she walked out on me, and now I’ve got Aüggst here, banging on the door, trying to escort me out.

      I don’t blame them, it’s time.

      What’s something you’ve been falling short on? What’s something you want to change?

      Think about it.

      Up next on the chopping board, The Growth & Grind Report

      Cheers,
      B.

    1. Jöölai, & The Power-Forward

      July 29th, 2025

      Every runner runs a different race, even if the track is all the same.

      Every team needs a good power-forward; you know, the offensive push to the basket, our last line of defense when blocking a layup, the box-out, the rebound, I mean, they’re basically the armed guard of the team. The trick is knowing when to make the pass and when to take the shot for yourself, and it’s the same for the menstrual cycle; you need to find the balance between mind-over-matter and when to stop, pick up your dribble, and let someone else take the dub. 

      You see, your body makes up a team. You’ve got enough players to fill the starters, the ones on the bench, even those on the cheer squad. Like, you may not realize it yet but you’re your own hype man, wing man, I mean, jeez man, you’re the man— or woman.

      Did I lose you? Let’s start over.

      Look, during the course of the month, the menstruating body encounters four different phases: menstruation (our bleeding phase: days ~1-5), follicular (our recovery phase: days ~1-14, yes I know they overlap, I will explain all that later), ovulation (our rise phase: day 15), and luteal (our downfall: days 16-28). The menstruation and follicular phase go hand in hand, despite them basically being the Yin yang of each other in terms of how they typically are supposed to make us feel — we associate the menstruation phase with cramps and fatigue while the follicular phase normally has us feeling on top of the world. So, how does that work? How can they occur at the exact same time?

      Well, if you remember how I broke down Red — the name I’ve given the menstruation phase — (and if not, you can find it here), you’d know that we primarily see a drop in three separate hormones such as estrogen (our uterine-lining builder), progesterone (our fertilized egg protector), and serotonin (our “feel-good” mood lifter). 

      However, the follicular phase works in the background, reproducing those hormones at a slower pace. We just don’t acknowledge it because, more often than not, we’re too busy tending to all the bleeding. They call it the follicular phase because during this time in the ovary department, the FSH hormone (follicle-stimulating hormone) is released which stimulates the development of — you guessed it — follicles. Follicles are like the soil a seed needs to grow; it surrounds the seed, just like they do our egg-cells, or oocytes. Their job is to mature its designated egg to the extent that when it interacts with sperm, it’s ready and healthy enough to create new life! 

      It’s like a track race, everyone’s on the line, when the pistol pops — we run, but it’s not a one speed fits all, someone has to finish last; in this case between the two, it just so happens to be the follicular phase, or with a more personal tone, Föllie. Red begins in the uterus, while Föllie takes place in the ovaries, so two different processes are happening in two different places at the exact same time, pretty cool huh? I mean, the body is way more complex than that, but that’s a different rabbit hole to go down another day.

      Now, typically only one follicle is ever mature enough to actually be released from the ovary and out into the vast world that is, the fallopian tube. There it awaits its blind date with what it hopes to be its sperm-mate — Get it? Soulmate? Sperm-mate? Anybody…? Nobody…? Okay, moving on.

      Of course, that’s not to say two follicles can’t be released, because they can, that’s how we get fraternal twins; I’m just saying it doesn’t happen often, though I digress. The moment this happens, we have now entered into the ovulation phase of the cycle, or as I like to call her, Ova. Now, Ova is a little bit of a celebrity to the demographic that desires children. She pops in once a month, signs a few autographs, and takes her leave accordingly. Because Ova’s appearance window is so small, it can take several months to see preferable results; in some cases, even years — in others, not at all.

      There are a lot of factors that play into it, for instance, some months we can experience what is called anovulation (the process in which a menstrual cycle ensues without the release of an egg). This can occur when the body undergoes stress for an extended amount of time, when we’re overweight/underweight, approaching menopause — the reasons vary. But my main purpose in introducing her is to mention that typically when we enter this phase, we unlock what seems to be the ultimate hormone package!

      I’m talking peak estrogen, serotonin, progesterone, testosterone — the dream team. Estrogen boosts our confidence, serotonin regulates our mood and removes the fog, progesterone protects our peace, and testosterone brings the thunder; the fire, the risk, the strength, not to mention, the libido. It’s all there for the taking. 

      Sure, it’s fleeting, but that’s why we have our power-forward — Föllie. Föllie is our longest feel-good phase of the month, where the ultimate hormone package is replenishing. They’re still there, and they’re as peak as we allow them to be. There might be days when we need to make the pass for someone else to shoot, like during the first week of Red, but by that second week, it’s all Föllie. 

      For me, I feel like I’ve gotten the hang of three out of the four phases of the cycle. Despite the bleeding, I hardly notice the difference between Red and Föllie; to me, they’re just Föllie. But there’s one phase in the cycle I can never seem to get along with — Lucile. Lucile always shows up uninvited, overstays her welcome, and messes with everything I had planned.

      But here’s the thing, it’s hard to talk bad about someone you don’t like, especially after finding out where they come from and what it is that makes them who they are. It takes a lot of emotional intelligence and the dropping of the ego, but in the end, I know it’s for the best. Lucile is what we recognize as the Luteal phase, or to put it short, PMS. 

      If I’m being honest, I still haven’t forgiven Lucile since we spoke last month. She stole my sleep, my energy, and my patience; she kept me from my blog and the gym, not to mention the fact that here I am, still cleaning up the mess she left behind, only for her to be making another visit here in the next few days, for the next two weeks. 

      She’s my least favorite of all the phases and yet easily one of the longest, but of course, everything happens for a reason. So, let’s dive into her purpose.

      I’ve gotta hand it to her, Lucile is pretty versatile. She’s essentially the aftermath of a bad blind date (the event where the follicle doesn’t meet its sperm-mate, pregnancy doesn’t occur, and they both go their separate ways which in case you didn’t know, means death for the sperm and reabsorption for the egg — pretty feminist if you ask me); however, Lucile also happens to be the honeymoon destination in the event there’s a wedding (in other words, if the egg does get fertilized by its sperm-mate, then the body gets sent into a more prolonged state of PMS — basically the entire first trimester, which is why it’s known as the daunting first stage of pregnancy). 

      So, to summarize, no pregnancy, Lucile stays. And if there’s pregnancy, she stays longer. 

      Yaaaaaay…

      Okay, okay, so Lucile gets a pretty bad rap; people describe her as uncomfortable, experiencing symptoms like cramps, moodiness, fatigue, bloat, restlessness, extreme hunger paired with ceaseless cravings, the list goes on. But in her defense, it’s because she’s the hardest working phase in the cycle. During her stay, she navigates the body through its production of developing large amounts of progesterone in order to thicken the uterine lining that’s going to keep the follicle protected during its “bake in the oven.” At some point, Lucile decides that the lining is no longer necessary since the presence of pregnancy fails to exist, so then her job is to navigate turning off the running faucet of progesterone and bringing it to a stable and more normalized flow. And as I’ve mentioned before, it’s not just progesterone at play; Lucile is also responsible for slowing down the production of estrogen, serotonin, and testosterone. So not only do our peace-keeper hormones drop, leaving us to be more anxiety-driven and restless, but we also experience gradual declines in our confidence, mood, and strength.

      Great. The problem is… sometimes it takes us weeks to recover from this phase — weeks to rebuild our stamina, consistency, and endurance, and then right before we can take our first sigh of relief, we hear a key turn, the door open, and a voice that says, Honey, I’m hoooome.

      I’m not trying to whine, but damn. Being a girl is tough.

      But do you see how versatile she is? I mean, how can I talk trash about her now? The only thing I can fathom to think of when it comes to my love-hate relationship with Lucile, is to make it better.

      All of this to say, the menstrual cycle is a tough gig, but so is being on the court. You need to be strategic. You gotta know your players, your opponents, the game, and what your next play’s gonna be. I’ve realized that I need to score most of my points during my encounter with Föllie and Ova, even Red, but when it comes to Lucile, I need to fall back into the key and play straight defense, protecting all that is mine. Pass when necessary, watch out for steals, keep my hands up, and box out.

      It’s chess. It’s basketball. It’s track. It’s a lot of things. It’s — 

      the menstrual cycle. 

      For those of you that found this post relatable, do you notice when you’re in different stages of the menstrual cycle? If so, how do you approach it? Do you change anything or just grin and bear it? What’s your play for when Lucile’s got the ball?

      Think about it.

      Cheers,
      B.

    2. Jöölai, & The Spontaneous Aloha.

      July 27th, 2025

      ROBBIE (V.O.)
      (as if rehearsing)

      So, the story starts….

      I was supposed to go to Mt. Shasta. Hike, jet ski, lay in the grass, feel the bark on the trees — the works. The trip was planned two months in advance, the dates were set, the leave was approved, nothing, and I mean nothing, could stand in the way.

      Or so you would think. 

      Note to self: When planning a trip, don’t just say the things you want to do, plan them. For instance, if you’re going to camp, find a campsite, reserve it, buy it flowers, make it your girlfriend, do what you gotta do, but make it official. If you’re planning it with a friend, a spouse, a sister — talk to them. It’s almost laughably how little I spoke to my sister during the coordination of this trip. To say I’m embarrassed is an understatement, but in my defense, I was raised to be spontaneous, so I thought everything would come together on its own. 

      Boy was I wrong. Sorry, Bri. My bad G.

      Long story short, the Shasta trip fell apart but my vacation clock had already started ticking. I had one week to do something worthwhile and bumming at home was not an option for me; however, what eventually came to be the finalized plan was beyond what I could have possibly expected: Hawaii.

      Now, the thought of booking a flight to Hawaii started out as a joke, I mentioned it to a friend of mine, but he was less interested in laughing at the joke than he was interested in actually finding a way to make it happen. 

      Now I need to make one thing clear here, I do not travel, at all. I mean, I find it hard enough to leave my house most of the time. Like, aside from work, the gym, or the basketball courts, it’s not often you’ll find me experiencing life on the grander scale of things — though that’s not to say that’s not what I want, because it is. 

      So, when my friend said I should do it, you’ll be pleased to hear I did, though not without a day’s worth of doubt and hesitation first. I mean, Hawaii? Me? There? No… could I? Should I? No… yes! Yes… yes. Okay. Let’s do it.

      And so, I really dedicate this trip to my friend, Tan Tan. Seriously, I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you for all your help. Thank you to my husband for being so supportive of me going and thank you to myself for overcoming the mountain of guilt needed to say yes to this trip in the first place.

      However, a key point I’ve left out up until now is the fact that this was supposed to be a solo trip. That’s right, I was going to go, alone. Little ole me, taking the island by storm. All I needed to do was find a ride to the airport. I reached out to my mom the night of to ask for a ride to the airport.

      This is how our conversation went:

      Mom, could you take me to the airport tomorrow?

      Where are you going?

      Hawaii.

      Alone?

      Yes.

      Want some company?

      Of course…

      Daddy said I could go (:

      WHAAAAAT?!

      Would you like your sisters to go too?

      Yeah!

      Done!

      No. WAY.

      And just like that, it became a girl’s trip. 

      The flight to Honolulu felt like a restless night, full of anxiety and home-grown fear. They say, “no one ever thinks it’ll happen to them until it does,” but I’m one of those people who thinks everything will happen to them — and to clarify, I mean worst case scenarios. I’m too afraid to walk anywhere alone because I would be the one to be kidnapped, I can’t ride my motorcycle to work because I would be the one to end up in an accident, I can’t fly in a plane because I would be the one to fall out of the sky.

      And I know what you’re thinking, “But weren’t you supposed to take this trip alone?” and the answer is yes, yes I was, and in my defense, being alone was something I was hoping to learn how to do while I was there, but who am I to take away this perfectly aligned girl’s trip? Noble of me, I know… but I digress.

      You know how annoying that is? To think the worst is out to get you? I mean, it is a full-time job, and I already have two of those! Before we took off, I was talking to God and bargaining with Him, I said, “Please, Lord, it’s not my time, Lord. Give me more time, Lord.” But ultimately, it’s His Will and if I’ve learned anything about God, it’s that His Will will be done.

      Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean I don’t fight it.  I’ll say I trust Him and then reach for the armchair any time turbulence hits or hold my breath any time the plane crosses over the ocean.

      Suffice to say, it felt like a restless night, but the next morning was perfect, and every day after. 

      Don’t believe me? Take a look for yourself.

      Heading to Food Truck Cove
      The beginning of our first walk in Hawaii (to my hotel)
      International Marketplace
      Waikiki Beach (my favorite out of all the beaches we went to!)
      Ala Moana Beach Park
      The view from my little box hotel
      My first ever sunset in Hawaii
      International Marketplace
      Ala Moana Beach Park
      Walking the Waikiki Strip
      Keeaumoku Seafood
      Food Truck Cove
      Pebbles
      Keeaumoku Seafood
      Laniakea Beach
      Sunset Beach
      Ala Moana Beach Park
      First Cabin International

      Tuesday 7/22
      [  ] Flight was scheduled for 6:25 p.m. but was delayed until 11 p.m. due to a maintenance issue in one of the bathrooms on the aircraft.
      [  ] We arrived in Honolulu by 1 a.m. and took an Uber to our hotel, The Hyatt, in the town of Waikiki.

      Wednesday 7/23
      [  ] We all woke up at 7 a.m. and ate breakfast the hotel provided (french toast, scrambled eggs, & sausage links; the culture shock began when we realized consuming miso soup was acceptable at all hours of the day, even the morning — I felt like I had finally found my people).
      [  ] We walked the strip to the little hub I had booked under the impression I was going to be alone on this trip, First Cabin International, and checked in, stopping into ABC Stores along the way.
      [  ] Stopped at Kbay Bros Too for our first, of many, poke runs
      [  ] Waimanola Beach (41-010 Wailea St, Waimanalo, HI 96795)
      [  ] Tikis for dinner — the coconut shrimp 🍤is so MUNCH!

      Thursday 7/24
      [  ] I woke up in my little box cubby, got dressed, and took my first solo stroll of Waikiki in the direction of The Hyatt.
      [  ] We ate together again but this time, the menu was different; they served breakfast sandwiches, eggs, and sausage links, not to mention our daily dose of miso soup — swoon.
      [  ] Coffee shop – Ali’i Coffee Co.
      [  ] Strolled the International Marketplace
      [  ] Keaaumoku Seafood for lunch, though my mom ate at Domino’s (tiss tiss)
      [  ] Hiked Manoa Falls Trail — do not pass this one up, SO beautiful. If you want to lay your eyes on some forest-y views, this is the trail to do it. Though, heads up: it has a relatively rocky terrain with a stable uphill climb, but it’s a short enough trail that in my opinion makes it manageable.
      [  ] Next stop: Ala Moana Beach Park
      [  ] Dinner at Furusato Sushi 🍣 (YUM, Diamond Head Roll 10/10) + a quick pop into The Cheesecake Factory for their coconut cream pie cheesecake

      Friday 7/25
      [  ] Another solo walk to breakfast with my family (waffles, eggs, sausage patties, and miso)
      [  ] Coffee run of the day: Kai Coffee
      [  ] Spent some time at Waikiki Beach which easily became my favorite of them all! So calm, so soothing, so perfect.
      [  ] Keeaumoku Seafood, yes, again.
      [  ] Stopped at a Costco! Don’t remember which, but y’all know I had to.
      [  ] Food Truck Cove, but more specifically, Pebbles (a predominantly soda-based food truck). DELICIOUS.
      [  ] A brief visit of the Hale’iwa Store Lots where you can find souvenir gift shops, clothing outlets, shaved ice, and more!
      [  ] Dropped by Laniakea Beach – a turtle beach
      [  ] Beach hopped to Sunset Beach where I got my first and only coconut!!🥥 (currently there’s a coconut shortage, so it took us three different places before we scored the jackpot!)

      Saturday 7/26
      [  ] Last solo morning walk of the trip and to honor it, I took a detour to Waikiki Beach to really take in the water, the sand, and the sky one last time.
      [  ] Breakfast ft. a coffee run to Island Vintage Coffee.
      [  ] Last little souvenir run.
      [  ] Hotel pack up.
      [  ] Airport.
      [  ] Home.

      I still can’t breathe, but that’s only because as I’m writing this, I’m on the flight back home and all I see is water.

      But the water is beautiful, and Hawaii is beautiful, and though I grieve leaving, I’m excited for the growth and change that awaits me back home.

      If you could hop on the red eye to anywhere, where would you go?

      Now answer me this, why don’t you?

      Think about it.

      Cheers,
      B.

    3. Jöölai, & The Will to Surrender

      July 14th, 2025

      Bumper sticker: Life doesn’t happen for you — it happens to you.

      There’s a saying at my work and it goes a little something like this: control your controllables. This line gets tossed around a lot because — and just like in life — there’s a lot of things you can’t control; however, if you can manage to master the things you can, you’ll have better ground when it comes to tackling the things you can’t. At work this means acknowledging the fact that we can’t control what people buy, but we can control what they see, and that can influence what gets put in their cart, so we adapt.

      Just like any store, you’re not going to be able to miss the chocolate-covered strawberries for Valentine’s Day because it’ll always be right in front of you; the same way burgers and chips get pushed for Independence Day, skeletons for Halloween, and turkey for Thanksgiving. It’s all there, whether or not you choose to take it. It’s there, and that’s what we like to call, a controlled environment.

      You can drive sales and project profit, but you can’t force the money nor the people who decide to step through the door. That fate is beyond our control.

      Kinda like the phases of the menstrual cycle. You can tend to the bleeding and even pretend it’s not there, something for some reason the rest of the world expects us ladies to do — but the reality is, the blood is just the tip of the iceberg. So much more goes on during this phase than most people realize. It’s not just a matter of containing the flow, your body is acting on its own, haven’t you ever wondered why?

      Well, prepare to learn anyway.

      Let’s get one thing straight. This is biology. This is hormones. This is…
      The Menstruation Phase.

      Let’s begin.

      Phase One of the Menstrual Cycle is called the menstruation phase, and it occurs when the presence of pregnancy is deemed nonexistent and so, the uterus begins to shed its lining (you know, the layer of tissue that fertilized eggs attach to as a resting place to grow). Without a fertilized egg, there’s no use for that kind of tissue, and so the body gets rid of it, but just like when any of us peel back skin, the result is usually you’re going to bleed, and so we do. Now, some of us bleed for 3 days, others for 5, but the reality is each body is different, and the phase itself is only as uniform as its constructive goal — to shed the lining. And that, is phase one —BUT wait, there’s more.

      During this process, we experience a drop in hormones like estrogen, progesterone, and serotonin. Now, estrogen is the hormone responsible for building the lining that’s meant to sustain the life of the fertilized egg, so no pregnancy means no need for the uterine lining which means no need for a surplus of estrogen. Makes sense, but here’s the catch, estrogen also influences our serotonin levels (the “feel-good” hormone), so when estrogen drops, so does serotonin — which explains why we often feel more irritable, sad, or even more sensitive during this phase of the cycle. Not to mention that the blood loss alone is what makes us feel so fatigued and the reason behind this is the fact that when we bleed, we lose what is called iron.

      Iron aids in a plethora of different tasks within the body. For instance, it helps carry oxygen throughout the blood and so without enough iron, cells don’t get enough oxygen, and ATP (Adenosine Triphosphate) can’t be produced. ATP is our body’s energy currency, and cells need oxygen to produce our energy, so to put it simply,

      low iron = low oxygen = low ATP = low energy = ): waaaah

      Suffice to say, whether we want to admit it or not, this change in our body affects us. Progesterone is responsible for our calm state of mind, so when that hormone drops, we experience moodiness, irritability, even anxiety. And that uterine lining that sheds? Remember how I mentioned the peeling back of the skin? Well, the lining doesn’t just fall off on its own and we bleed as a result. No, it sheds by means of contractions — something we recognize as cramps. Yaaaaaaaay……

      You know, I find it interesting how I’ve gone the last decade of my life just plugging holes in my body instead of wrapping my head around the concept that’s behind all the bleeding. I’ve always centered my cycle around shame and have always tried to hide it the best that I could, but the problem is, the thing I’m ultimately trying to hide from is, myself.

      My body. I’ll say things like, “No, I’m not moody,” or I’ll spend more hours sleeping than anything else, and then I’ll complain about feeling bloated but pretend not to know why — I mean, it’s right there, at my fingertips; an opportunity to create a controlled environment, yet I’m fighting it. Why?

      The truth is, I don’t like how my biology affects me. I don’t like waking up and wanting to go back to bed. I don’t like how everything I eat during this phase makes me feel ten pounds heavier than I actually am. I don’t like how I know I’m capable of running but somehow can’t bring myself to do it. And I especially don’t like that this phase that’s only supposed to last for 5 days actually takes weeks to recover from and before I know it — I’m there, again.

      I don’t like it, so I think I can run from it, but I can’t. I can’t run from myself; I just have to figure out what it means to be myself.

      Okay, so during my period I’m slow and less energized, so what? What do I do with that? How do I capitalize? How can I adapt and make it so that I no longer pretend to be caught off guard by this slowdown that literally happens every single month — like I know it’s there, I know it’s coming.

      It came, and it went. And here we are, but it’s not over. Now, I’m knee deep into the Follicular Phase, and after that, it’ll be Ovulation, and then Luteal — but I’ll save those phases for later.

      The point is, after all that, I’ll bleed, again.

      You can’t hide from your body. It’s your vessel. It’s working for you — doing things you can’t do even if you tried to. It’s your body.

      And you know, so much of life revolves around the desire of wanting to know who we are, but isn’t this a part of it?

      This is who I am. I get tired and I slow down, but that doesn’t have to mean I stop. I just have to learn how to move, even if just an inch further, and accept that progress is progress.

      I’ve made Tomiee Cruise out to be this unstoppable woman, I mean, on point 24/7. But that’s not realistic. It can’t be, because I can’t be — I need to change the narrative and redefine what being on point means.

      So now being on point means being on track — to wherever it is I’m going.

      It means moving, even if just an inch further, in the right direction. It means knowing how to aid in my slowdown, for the sake of my stamina, and surrendering to the things that are out of my control while doing my part to adapt to the things that are.

      And it’s not going to happen overnight. It’ll take months, maybe even a year, because I only get one shot at tackling each phase roughly every 28 days.

      But that’s okay. I’ll keep moving, because even if life only happens to me and not for me, I can be the thing that happens for life, and I can only imagine how it feels to summit that mountain.

      People do it, can you?

      Think about it.

      Cheers,
      B.

    4. Chapter Three: Jöölai.

      July 9th, 2025

      If you keep ignoring the source of a problem, then you’ll always pretend to wonder where exactly its coming from.

      Jöölai — you sly dog, how dare you start without me. I had plans, posts to write, and now the timing’s all wrong.

      I practically missed the end of Jöön, the beginning of Jöölai, and Tom Cruise’s birthday on the 3rd. I mean, we’re already a week into this new month and I still have yet to welcome it.

      So, what gives? Have I lost my stamina? The ability to push through hardships? Am I no longer a resource for wisdom or revelation? Is my battery dead? Is my blog going to die? Will everything I’ve done so far just be—

      for nothing?

      I don’t know. I didn’t go to the gym last week. Haven’t stepped foot inside this week, either. Don’t know if I’m going tomorrow — definitely don’t see myself going today. Where’s my inner Tom Cruise; Tomiee, where you at? — I mean, I have no idea what’s going on.

      … Or maybe I do.

      Here’s the thing, I am not Tom Cruise. I can’t fly a plane, I don’t speak ten languages, and I sure as hell can’t hold my breath for six and a half minutes under water.

      I’ m not Tom Cruise.

      But then again — Tom Cruise is not a woman, and I’m not saying women can’t do what Tom Cruise does, I’m just saying there are some things we have to learn how to do differently. I mean, look, I’m not trying to be Tom Cruise, I’m trying to be Tomiee, but there’s a subtle difference between Tom and Tomiee you could completely miss if you’re not paying close enough attention.

      A period.

      Tom doesn’t have a menstrual cycle, at least, not one that I know of.

      Gaawhh, gross. Somebody — change the subject, please — come on, hurry! Ew ew ew.

      But I can’t, it’s time I rewrote the narrative and finally acknowledged the source of something that’s been holding me back for so long.

      You see, the problem is not the period; I bleed, so what? The problem has always been coming to terms with the genetic makeup of the period and adapting my life to make space for something that is simply out of my control.

      What do I mean by this? Well, do you remember that rant I just went on? The paragraphs filled with worry and self-doubt — wondering if all is lost with no means to recover? That, my friends, is the product of the Luteal Phase, aka something we all know as, PMS. I’ve always rejected it because I hate that line…Is it that time of the month for you? No! No — yes… NO! … Ugh… just say it…

      Yes. Yes, it is.

      What we don’t realize, is that this phase can be up to TWO. WEEKS. LONG. I’ll get into the biology of that later but y’all… PMS for two weeks and bleeding for one? Come on! That doesn’t leave a whole lot of room for greatness.

      … Or does it?

      The thing is — nobody. talks. about it.

      It’s not just the Menstrual Phase — it’s the Luteal Phase, the Follicular Phase, and the Ovulation Phase — that’s what makes up what we like to call, the Menstrual Cycle. There’s more than just one layer to it. Our hormonal system goes through a 28-day cycle while male hormone regulation only takes 24 hours; this isn’t a competition, but they get to experience the highs with the lows every single day while our lows and our highs get drawn out over the course of days.

      Talk about a dramatic entrance for Jöölai, but that’s what this month’s about — not breaking down barriers, but learning to work around them, with them, for them.

      And so, maybe this chapter is for the women — I know, I know, but it matters. Though, whether or not you bleed once a month, I’m sure there’s something we can all take away from this and that’s to accept the things that appear small and miniscule — whatever the case may be — but are actually roadblocks to achieving a greater sense of understanding who we are.

      So, grab a pad — I mean pen — and let’s get started.

      Cheers,
      B.

    5. Jöön, ft. The Curated Drop: The Growth & Grind Report

      July 2nd, 2025

      “If you’re willing to stay determined, work according to a plan, and keep getting up when you get knocked down, you will be able to achieve your goals — and someday, your dreams.”
      — Failing Forward

      When I first started learning how to drive, I had virtually no orientation of the road, so when I had to get somewhere, I’d normally have to leave twice as early because it’d normally take me twice as long. Sure, GPS was a thing but to me, it was just as confusing as navigating Twitter and although my common sense has since developed, I’d often miss my turns because 400 ft always felt farther away than it actually was. 

      Whenever my mom would be in the car, she’d often reroute me saying, “No, go this way” or “don’t turn back for the freeway, just go to the ramp on the next street up,” and when I’d ask why, she’d say this line that would eventually become a hand-me-down. She’d say, “we don’t need to go backwards to go forward.” I didn’t understand what she meant back then, but in terms of the road, she was saying that if we’re trying to go South, there’s no point in going North. Now, if you were 16, would you understand what that means? Because I didn’t.

      I didn’t understand it, but I think I have a good grip on it now and despite its logic, I’m going to agree to disagree; sometimes we need to. Sometimes, it’s the only way. 

      And mom, if you’re reading this, I know you meant directionally, I just needed a transitional sentence. 

      But seriously, take bodybuilders, for example. They go through constant bulking and cutting phases — intentionally gaining weight just to lose it again, all for the sake of sculpting something stronger. Writers, they revise. Pages get ripped and paragraphs rearranged. Some sentences get swapped out for others just to be added back in again for the sake of poetry and flow and well, “because I said so.” And we cut our hair because somehow it helps it grow faster — ‘splain that. 

      The point is, going backwards doesn’t always mean regression, sometimes it shows intention. Proof you’re paying attention; they say the first step to solving any problem is acknowledging there is one in the first place. We don’t like to admit it, but our shortcomings do make up who we are. We deny it over and over again and then wonder why we keep falling short… over and over again. That’s the problem. It becomes a routine and once we acknowledge that reality, that’s what gives us the potential to change. Not by moving forward, but by going backwards. If you leave a problem in the past, it’ll follow you everywhere you go.

      I didn’t read this month, and if I didn’t acknowledge why, I’d probably go next month without reading too. I didn’t track my food, I didn’t hit my bedtime goals, and I kissed and made up with my TV. I did not make it to Tomiee Cruise status and if you’ve been following along, you’d know that’s exactly what I want to be. She’s big, she’s bold, she’s honest. She’s the character in my mind I want to play, but I judge her, so I can’t. She’s too big, she’s too bold, and she’s too honest. But there’s a silver lining in admitting those things, and it’s admitting those things. Now I can change. 

      So, what have I done?

      Welcome to The Growth & Grind Report.

      Heart — Be intentional in my relationships & try something new

      1. I tried out line-dancing for the first time with my sister (if you missed this post, you can read it here)
      2. I went on a spontaneous speed-run with a friend followed by a mindful yoga and deep breathing session to cool-down.
      3. I engaged in fruitful conversations with my friends, my family, and my coworkers.
      4. I went to a Post Malone concert and went to see (2) movies: How to Train Your Dragon and F1 (not once, but twice, Brad, you never fail me — if I wasn’t so die-hard Tom Cruise, I’d probably name my character after you, Bradiee Pitt) … No… doesn’t have the same ring.

      Moving on.

      Mind — Be intentional with my time

      1. I realized the book I was reading was not one to have in the cue and to really take my time on it. I also realized that if I wanted it to be in the cue but also wanted to take my time with it, instead of taking an actual pause in my reading, I can simply re-read the parts of the book I want to instill in my everyday life.
      2. I scored a position in the Supervisor in Training program (SIT) at my work.

      Next!

      Body — Be intentional with my movement

      1. I experienced great consistency with being intentional with my movement (successfully going to the gym at least 4x/week, if not more).
      2. Despite not journaling my food intake, I was still mindful about my eating habits; however, I did embrace meals outside my kitchen, roughly 10 times. Not necessarily proud of this number, but each one of these meals served as a product of adventure, and for that, I cannot complain.
      3. A goal I’m happy to share about is the fact that I was able to achieve three plus rounds of basketball with my friends.

      Lastly,

      Pocket — Be intentional with my spending
      Initial savings from Mei: $200
      Projected savings for Jöön: $600
      Actual savings for Jöön: $516

      1. I stuck to my financial plan (50/30/20 rule) with a few exceptions (pulled money from my savings to fund gas for adventures — i.e. line-dancing in LA, the Post Malone concert, not to mention the movie tickets)
      2. And I developed a greater sense of awareness when it comes to grocery shopping. Now, I feel more mindful when I make my list and am more likely to follow it instead of just grabbing whatever feels right in the moment.

      So, there you have it. With Jöön came maturity, growth, and the reminder that sometimes progress is a loop, not a line. That going backwards can be a good thing; sometimes we need to — sometimes, it’s the only way.

      What can you take a step back on?

      Think about it.

      Jöön, how I hate to leave you,
      but Jöölai, how I can’t wait to meet you.

      So, let’s begin.

      Cheers,
      B.

    6. Jöön, ft. The Curated Drop: The Reading & Rhythm Report

      June 30th, 2025

      “Focusing on what you don’t do discounts all you’ve already done.”
      — Dory Noriega, aka my sister.

      As much as I’d like to say I overestimated myself this month, I’ll settle for the truth: I’m learning. And if Jöön has given me nothing else, it’s given me the humility to admit I don’t know all that there is to know about me — but I want to.

      It’s an out-of-body experience, really, to acknowledge my disappointment without letting it bury my progress. I feel like I’m starting to look at myself like a business. You know, I run the numbers, view this month’s goal and its outcome, realize the follow-through could have been better, and then make the decision to try again tomorrow. It’s this newfound attitude that makes me believe maturity not only exists, but it’s tangible; I can feel it, I can see it, I am it. I’m adulting y’all, and it feels good.

      Now, why am I rambling on about this, you ask? Well, what I had hoped to be a rather fruitful month of reading turned out to be a standstill. My original goal of reading a minimum of 10 pages a day swiftly turned into 5, then 2, until quickly it turned into none. 

      And the problem wasn’t the book, because the book was good. So good, in fact, that I didn’t want to read anymore; I wanted the words on the page to marinate, to grow legs and walk among me. A chapter in the book I was reading became so pertinent to my life in real time that I couldn’t bring myself to continue reading until something in my life had changed. 

      And it did, but that’s a story for The Growth & Grind Report.

      Of course, looking back now, I realize I could’ve just reread the same 10 pages each day instead of deciding to stop reading all together, but you know what they say, hindsight’s 20/20.

      And that’s the beauty of it all. From this “failure,” I learned something new. I learned how to pivot. Now, if I want to take a pause in my reading, I know it’s not a literal pause, but a productive rewind. And just like that, I achieve a way to keep moving forward, even without knowing exactly where forward is. 

      It’s just as I’ve said before in Chapter One: Mei —

      “This is mess, this is nonlinear, this is me.” 

      If I can’t embrace that, then what am I doing here? What is any of this for?

      It’s for me, so here’s to showing up, running the numbers, acknowledging the outcome, and deciding to be better.

      And next month will be better, so I need to stick around to tell the tale. 

      Let’s get into the reports.

      The Reading & Rhythm Report

      UNFINISHED:
      The 5 Levels of Leadership by John C. Maxwell 

      And the line that stopped me in my tracks:

      “The bottom line is that an invitation to lead people is an invitation to make a difference. Good leadership changes individual lives. It forms teams. It builds organizations. It impacts communities. It has the potential to impact the world. But never forget that position is only the starting point.”

      2. Greenlights by Matthew McConaughey. I did end up finishing his audiobook and I LOVED it. 10/10 would read again. McConaughey’s an amazing storyteller and is constantly leaving pieces of advice throughout the book, if not on every other page. I’ve come to find I really like autobiographies. It might actually be my favorite reading niche because a majority of them pay forward valuable life lessons and self-development is my bread and butter. So, don’t be surprised if I start adding more of them to my reading list, you have been warned.

      Now, on to the bops.

      Jöön’s Line-Up, Spotify style:

      1. Gasoline & Matches by Cameron Whitcomb
      2. MAGPIE by Khushi
      3. Dance With You by Family and Friends 
      4. What You Know by Two Door Cinema Club
      5. doing my best by Hazlett

      Despite the shortcomings, I’m really proud of this month. I gained a better understanding of myself and for that, I am eternally grateful.

      What are you walking away this month with?

      That’s a wrap on The Reading & Rhythm Report, stick around for The Growth & Grind Report.

      Cheers.
      B.

    7. Jöön, & The Art of Waiting.

      June 27th, 2025

      “Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.”
      — André Gide

      I like to call my sister the queen of scholarships; not because she always gets them, but because she always applies. And something I find especially odd is the fact that you’ll never hear her say things like, Gaaaah, I’m so nervous! Or things like, I want this. I hope I get it, or even the universal line, I hope they choose me.

      And of course, that’s not to say she doesn’t think it, she just doesn’t say it and it makes me wonder if her use of stillness actually plays a role in her success. Because the truth is, I only hear about her scholarships after she’s won them. She never talks about the ones she didn’t despite spending hours writing and perfecting an essay that’ll determine her tuition’s future. No, after she submits it, it’s as if it never happened. So, there’s something about her form of patience I envy, because there’s depth to it. Her stillness — embedded inside is trust, alignment, energy, and confidence.

      And I want that, too.

      You know, growing up an actress, you get rejected… a lot. It’s painful, and not for the faint of heart. After every audition, my mom would tell us, “Just submit it and forget it,” because well, what’s done is done and no use crying about it now, right? But between you and me, that’s something I could never bring myself to do. How could I forget about something I wanted?

      Because I did. I wanted every audition, not because of the money, but because it meant I’d be wanted, and I wanted to be wanted. Sure, the money was cool, don’t get me wrong, I’ll admit it, but being the IT girl? The chosen one? That’s what I was going for. And despite me taking a break from acting, some things never change. I still find myself yearning to be wanted and I reckon that’s one of the reasons I’ve been trying so hard to be a supervisor at my job; I want responsibility, I want to be relied on, to be seen, for my voice to matter — to matter.

      And I know I’m not alone in this, so when I think about my sister and how she practices stillness during the moments that usually elicit chaos — you know, that space between applying for something and actually getting it, the wait, that’s what leaves us restless, on edge, anxious, worried, and even sometimes sad — still, she remains still. And I can’t help but wonder if there’s something she knows that I don’t.

      “So, what’s the secret?” I asked her.

      Here’s what she said:

      [The truth?] … I don’t ever think I can win them.

      Very relatable, but unfortunately not the answer I was looking for.

      “Then why do you put so much time into something you’re an underdog for?” I asked.

      I suppose I hope, just a tiny bit, that if no one enters, I can win.

      Quite an interesting strategy, I thought.

      “Well, how many have you won?”

      I’ve applied for 8, and I’ve won 4.

      Gasp. By just putting herself out there, not expecting to win, she’s managed to have a 1:1 ratio. A 50% chance at victory. And of course, I realize that’s not necessarily a mind-blowing response, but if you look a little closer, you can start to see the type of depth I’ve been talking about.

      The way I interpret her thought-process when applying for these scholarships is that the point is not to win, but to have evidence that she exists.

      You see, the way I see it, my sister willingly steps into the House of Life simply because the door is open. She sees a room, she walks in; leaves her ID so people know she was there, whether or not they were paying attention, though she’s proven that 50% of the time, it appears they do. No expectations, no strings attached, does she want the scholarship, sure, but no pressure. She just wants her name to appear on the roster; she likes to write and needs someone to read. She doesn’t wait for an invitation; she takes the liberty.

      Within her stillness is the trust that being present is enough. And like I said before, half of the time, clearly, it is. She shows up, and if you ask her why, she’d give you the same response George Mallory gave the reporter who asked him why he climbs Mt. Everest,

      “Because it’s there.”

      Because she can.

      So, something I take away from this is the lesson that I need to start embracing the space in between the start of the race and the finish; the wait.

      I’ve applied for this S.I.T. (supervisor in training) program at my job four different times, and all I’ve cared about has been getting the role when really, what I should be caring about is what I receive while I’m in the room for the interview.

      Evidence of my existence.

      Yeah, I want it, but how often am I actually acknowledging the fact that I keep being brave enough to try and get it? It’s the trying part that needs attention, because it’s daunting, and it’s terrifying — enough to keep most people from trying at all. 8 billion people in the world, and how many actually summit Mt. Everest? How many people actually try? How many actually apply to scholarships, or supervisor roles? Yes, there is so much in this world that is over-saturated and competitive, but if you have nothing else, have stamina, because so many people give up right before it’s their time.

      So, wait for your time. Apply with the hope that if no one else enters, you can win. Climb the mountain simply because it’s there.

      Because you’re here, and you exist.

      Be still and focus on familiarizing yourself with each step as you take it, because life is so long and I promise you if a step represents waiting, you’ll be seeing that step, A LOT.

      Get comfortable with waiting, because once your name finally gets called, the taste is so sweet, and all will have been worth it.

      Oh, and by the way,

      I finally got into the S.I.T. program — proof that even when the House of Life locks a door, the art of waiting holds the key.

      What’s something you’re waiting for?

      Up next on the blog, The Curated Drop Reports to wrap up Jöön.

      Cheers,
      B.

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