Moving on

Condensing my blogs into one...

maylingbrantman.wordpress.com

See you there :)

Happiness?

I find myself struggling more and more lately with who I am. I'm not sure when I conditioned myself to think I'd have all the answers by 30. I'm not even sure I have the right questions yet. At what point do we begin to adapt and accept the daily notions? I can't even pinpoint what my point is at the moment. I think I'm just lost. I didn't even realize until now that I was...

Someone asked me the other day if I was happy - to recall a time when I was the happiest I've ever been. I hesitated to answer. That hesitation spoke volumes. There are moments that fill my heart with joy: my daughter's birth, my first apartment, my best friend's wedding, my college graduation. But in that instant none of those moments seemed to be right. Does a moments joy equate true happiness? is it a series of happy times strung together. Or is that just an ideal that may never come to fruition?

Don't misunderstand me, I don't think I'm an unhappy person. I can be quite spunky and loud, excited and animated - I'll embarrass you with my random skipping and character voices. But at the end of the day, is it just me I'm trying to convince?

I built a pretty good life for myself and surround myself with awesome people, so I'm very blessed and grateful. But sometimes when I'm sitting home alone at night, I have to wonder... until I let my own thoughts consume me. To the point when I just feel selfish for even wanting something else, something more. For wanting anything really.

What defines happiness?  Who decided the road map with all the stops you're supposed to make? And why am I the odd one out because I chose the path buried deep in the woods? Who's to say which actions are the right ones and whether or not we should be acting on them?

I live my life the way I want and my choices are my own. I wear my mistakes like battle scars because they remind me. No, they aren't always pretty, but they are my scars to own. I guess I just want to know to what end is it all for. I have no clue what will make me happy, so I'll continue to fumble my way by, dealing with the hurdles as they come. I guess sometimes it's just very lonely, but I imagine even the happiest people in the world are still lonely.

Get out of my head!

I must confess... I am OBSESSED with Tyler Knott Gregson. You should be too, just saying. He's a wordsmith whose every thought touches my very soul. It's like he literally reaches deep inside me and pulls out the exact emotions coursing through my body and puts it on paper.

I especially love his typewriter series and find myself randomly clicking through his blog, soaking in all its beauty. Some of his stuff is actually quite heartbreaking but so powerful. I came across this poem today and damn it if I didn't cry:

I found myself

the moment I found you

and I am petrified

that if you stop

seeing something

beautiful

in me

then I'll stop

seeing it

too.

He's the inspiration behind my Haiku Series, which will probably never measure up to his insane genius. But here's hoping. Check him out and fall in love: Tyler Knott Gregson

No words for a writer? Hmmm, not always a bad thing

Sometimes words aren't needed. Maybe you can stand on a bridge and let the space around you just be. You don’t need to fill the empty space with a declaration of any kind. Don’t ruin the moment. You don’t need to define it or find meaning in it. Maybe the moment is enough. And that one view makes more sense than anything you could say. You have these rare moments, just a flash… and then the moment passes. But it doesn’t mean it’s insignificant or worthless. Sometimes it just is what it is, but it holds more value and a meaning deeper than statements can make. Hold on to that… and remember that moment in fondness.

Scavenger hunt? Yes, please!

I am SO excited! I have this weird obsession for these journals that Keri Smith creates. The first one I bought was called “Wreck This Journal”.  Basically you’re destroying the book slowly and so creatively. Sure it tells you to write 4 letter words and draw circles, but then it tells you to plop food on it and drag is through the mud, rip a page out and tape it back in after crumbling it. I so want to be a writer (and published one day) but sometimes I lose that creative side of myself that I love. I bought this book for a couple of friend for that very reason…  think outside the box, get dirty, do something random and crazy!

Anyhoo… imagine my surprise and delight when I came across “The Pocket Scavenger” while waiting for a friend for dinner last night. Um… YAY! First of all I’ve been trying to get people to do a scavenger hunt with me FOREVER... no biters. Boo to you all, boo to you all!

(BTW, they do these really cool ones in the city that go to Grand Central, Central Park and the MET to name a few. Um, amaze balls! Plus I fully plan on going to the International Spy Museum when I visit DC again. Me with an electronic device texting me clues on where to run to next? HELLO, who are we talking to?? Shut up, sold… just take my money!!)

So this new book gives you a list of 72 random things to find and the story of where/when/how it came to be… but then you get to alter it somehow randomly according to another list. This book is the perfect distraction for someone like me. The items are everyday, normal things that seem unimportant and not very special, like a postage stamp or buttons. But the beauty then comes from the story behind it and what role it played in your life. At least that’s the way I see it. Maybe the stamp is from an old love letter you kept for years and the button came from the shirt of the actor you were stalking. Something random turns into something exciting and personal... it’s another way to see someone and get a peek into their mind. So then like I said, you have to alter it somehow – add thumbprints, an explosion, another item. It further takes this ordinary item that you make unique to you and then has you add a personal flair to it. This book basically begs you to “infuse your daily excursions with a quest to see these things with new eyes.”

I get way too excited about things I know, and it IS only a book…… but life is about taking what’s given to you and leaving behind something extraordinary; leaving behind a piece of you. I think that’s beautiful.

Out of hiding

I’ve been so overwhelmed with life and all that comes with it that I haven’t really been writing lately. (Besides the fact that I’ve been cheating on this blog with… a journal… gasp!) It’s not that I haven’t been inspired (well that’s partly it), it’s just my focus has been pulled in so many directions. Sometimes I’m on autopilot.  I’ve been contributing more to my other blog as well, a more intimate view into the mind of Mei Mei. It just seems that lately there’s been too much serious going on, not enough silly, which is the main inspiration for this blog.

I made a new friend lately who totally embraces my quirkiness. We have a similar mindset and sense of humor… he just GETS me. It’s an awesome feeling to not feel awkward and embarrassed ALL the time. He doesn’t think my ideals and dreams are silly and farfetched. We’re two positive people, especially around each other and I appreciate someone who looks at life for its possibilities (and not just as a raw deal that was handed to us). After talking to him for a few minutes I feel so empowered and excited about life. I’m so much more amped to cross off bucket list items – that thing was starting to collect dust. I think I’m most happy that I feel like ME for the first time in such a very long time. I was a little lost for awhile and he found me. I’m still fumbling around, but I wake up with purpose again. I just remember the old me and how I used to be. I guess it’s the me that’s always been there but fell into a jaded place. I just found her again is all J

My heart's hunger

Edgar Allen Poe summed it up for me quite nicely: "Sometimes I'm terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. The way it stops and starts."

For all you bleeding hearts, this is not over the loss of a man, or the desire for one for that matter. It's about desire in general. We want what we want and it doesn't matter how much we try to talk ourselves out of it. A new job, an expensive gadget, vacation, a friendship.... It doesn't matter what it takes to get it or if it won't fit the image in our heads later. At the end of the day we just know that we crave SOMETHING. And even if we don't know what it is, we still hunger for it. I don't know about you, but I don't like voids, not in the slightest. And I try my best to fill those voids with whatever I can find. It could be a lover, a new hobby, food or a new found passion. It's a draining practice and not one too gentle with my heart. Most of my own heartaches are of my own design... but I've had help in that department too.

I tend to develop passions quite frequently. Like most quick blazing passions, the fizzle sets in early and doesn't look quite as shiny and appetizing after the fact. I just find something new to obsess over. Something to consume my thoughts. And I'll give it my all and examine it from a million and fifty different angles, pro and conning it and making myself sick to death over it. It's my process you see.

Yea, I need a new hobby. Hence the problem.

I don't know what I'm looking for this time, but it's knawing away at me. And my heart always takes control of my mind. It's hard for the brain to displace what the heart wants and like I said, I'm terrified of my heart.