Sunday, September 14, 2014

Something's Working...


I didn’t sleep very well one night, woke up 30 minutes before having to clock in, ANNND then I hit a bazillion red lights on my way to work. My ears got hot, the area around my eyes started to tingle, and I felt my stress level rise every time brake lights flashed in front of me.

Like most people, I was irritated.

Judged.


Stop being lame. Allow yourself to have a great day.



I thought to myself: THIS is why life is so “hard”; we forfeit the wheel to insignificant situations (and people) that steer us off the path of happy-go-lucky to Pouty McPoutison Drive. I recollected myself, decided it wasn’t worth my energy, and shrugged it off.


Is it a coincidence that traffic cleared up afterwards?
I don’t think so.


Meanwhile, in other news, I’ve read two books last month, started writing again, dropped down to about 16% body fat, gotten significantly stronger, and am back to regularly sipping mochas at a local coffee hub. ‘Tis a good life indeed. Now, let’s read between the lines. Not only did I assume the responsibility to choose my battles but this intrapersonal upper hand is also accompanied by the luxury of time.


Something’s working in my favor.



Oh, hey!

Did I tell you I’m working full time in the hospitality industry? Silly me, I knew I forgot something. There were plenty of hops on and off the fence (and back on) until a conversation with a couple bromigos, who helped confirm my off the fence thoughts. Although I’m taken out of the gym for most of the week, I’m reimbursed with peace of mind, a steady income, and enough time to do what I love. Right now, this is worth it.



I am worth it.




Cheers to being in control.






Sunday, August 31, 2014

If I were a pizza...


This one time, I tested positive for Chameleon, a favorable personality because (according to my answers) I am more likely to work well with others, less likely to cause conflict, and am able to adapt to any situation with more ease than most. I’m also a giver, a lover of love, and the type who wants everyone smiling. Because…



Why else are we here if we don’t bask in the warmth of hearts, hugs, & happiness?



Yes. I know I come off a bit naïve, definitely granola, but I’m a firm believer that societal and personal success is found through interdependence, sharing, and cohesion. On the flip side, you and I can see just how this mentality can lead to all sorts of issues...especially when you (meaning me) assume that everyone already thinks the same as you (again, not you) do.   


So what's the point?


Well, if I were a pizza, I’d be a combo slice of TOO giving and conformity caving. They’d call it the People Pleaser. The perfect toppings for any avid-toe-stepping-nay-saying-avoider, who looks for the right answers to opinion based questions. 

Yup. That was me...and still is to a certain degree. But I am learning…

...and growing a pair.


In the last two years, I’ve worked myself until I had nothing else to give professionally, emotionally, and mentally--all because the ratio of give to receive was never in equilibrium. Which brings me to why I left Arizona. Plain and simple, black and white…


I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t learning. I didn’t care.
My give tank was on E.


I decided that I’m no longer going to receive less than what I deserve…and neither should you. It’s so common for people who are great givers to be terrible takers because we fail to recognize that receiving well is just as important. I want you to think about why you give and then apply that reason to why people would want to give to you. Recognize your worth and know that it’s perfectly okay to take (just remember to say "thank you") and feel appreciated. With that said, wherever you fall on the Give/Receive Continuum, whether it’s far left or far right, the closer we are to the center, the better this world will be. 



Cheers to setting your standard!

Thursday, July 31, 2014

Resurfacer, Queen of Positivity


I may be a little crazy to say this but there’s something refreshing about hitting rock bottom…or at least getting close to it…or reaching the bottom-est place you ever want to get. It’s at that moment you’re put in a position to make a real life decision. There is no Limbo or safety net or security blanket or even time. Just you and whatever you need.



Complete this sentence with the best possible answer:

When you sink to an all time low, you have to do what you have to do to in order to:

A)   Resurface
B)   Resurface
C)   Resurface
D)   Resurface




Clearly I’m not a sinker.



Despite my outward persona for the last couple months, I’m ready to admit that I wasn’t in the best place mentally or emotionally. Granted I didn’t go off the deep end, but I definitely made poor decisions and will freely admit that I didn’t love myself to the degree that I should have. And, of course, nobody knew this at the time because I was out swimming in The Nile (now saw it faster…The Nile, The Nile, De Nile, Denile, Denial, BINGO!).



But with all that said and out of the way:

I’m awesome and I know it…
NOW.



Cheers to resurfacing. 

Thursday, August 16, 2012

The In Betweens


I wanted to be a marine biologist once. Then thought about putting time into world religions and all things philosophical. But then I majored in Political Economy and was stuck on becoming a researcher for the underground sex industry in the Philippines. And then I traveled and, well, that just opened the door to a whole new world of career possibilities—travel writer, international hospitality, English teacher, bartender, etc.

And now I’m a personal trainer.


Yeah, I know, nowhere in the first paragraph does it mention anything about fitness or training or anything gym related, but I’ve come to the conclusion that you can’t rule out the in betweens. In the last three years, I received my degree, worked for a bank, lost friends, made friends, taught English, went through a couple countries, and had fun just doing life. But! In between those classes on Economic Theory, twenty page papers, jobs, boarder hopping, relationships, etc:



I
worked
out.



Working out is my stress reliever, my punching bag, my tissue to cry on, my just because, my sleeping pill, and my go to date on a Saturday night. It’s what I know how to do and it’s what I want to learn more about. I can’t help it. I mean, the human body is fascinating in that it changes right before your eyes with the proper diet & training. To see muscle development, feel physical progress, and just the idea of moving up in weight (50lbs leg extensions to 115lbs months later; yeah, I did that yesterday!) is so freaking mind-blowing! 


my in between: Fitness.


To bring this all full circle...

Although I could have found success as a researcher/activist for women's rights or as a travel writer, deep down I knew those fields weren't for me. The main reason why I thought about continuing my research in the Philippines is because I thought I had to; the successions of life (school, job, career, and family) or so they call it. I went to school and spent four years of my life researching Prostitution in the Philippines, it only made sense to continue on. Take it from me, if you want to be happy in life, this is not the mindset to have. And with traveling, sure, I played with the idea of not coming back, but I did. Not to demean my 8 months abroad (because it was a life changing experience) but motives to stay in Asia came from the fact that I had nothing else going for me in the States...or so I thought. 

Here's my advice: Take a look at the bigger picture. Are you where YOU want to be? Are you doing what YOU want to do? If you're not, it's okay to step back, reevaluate, and go in a completely different direction. Yes, you're circumstances may be different from mine and mine from yours, but we don't always have to go down an already paved road...



sometimes we need to create our own. 


Cheers to discovering your in betweens
& doing what you love to do!

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Structured Spontaneity

Yesterday I woke up, went to work, then hung out with a couple of friends. Normal. Last night, I concluded my day with a rice, bean, and cheese burrito and this…




Not so normal.

Based on recent mentality tweaks, goal refocusing, and prioritizations, when presented with the statement, "Let's get tattoos," I said:

 fuck it, let's do it. 

It took that one question and that one answer to go from driving in the 50 class Mario Circuit I to speeding down Special Cup’s Rainbow Road. My night went from sitting on a couch with the intent of going to spin at 7pm to sitting in a chair while some guy named George elephantly injected ink into my skin. Permanently. It was exciting and nerve wracking and it felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. But I was happy, actually I was more than happy then times that by infinity. I remember the feeling so vividly. While I sat in the waiting area, I felt unstoppable, like nothing in coexistence was on my level. Nothing.

Sometimes a dash of spontaneity is the secret ingredient that makes life a good one.

Don't get me wrong, the elephant seed was planted months ago—and to be exact it was the very night Erin, Lizzy, and I were walking through Ho Chi Minh City after spring rolls and BGIs...but that’s beside the point. If you have been with me since the launch of this blog, you know just what Asia—the people, places, food, experiences, lessons—means to me. But what you may not know is what I had to do to break all the mental barriers and insecurities that made Asia a reality.  The elephant is homage to living my life and making things happen for my happiness, my well-being, and myself. 

My elephant is me.

Ladies and gentlemen, I call this structured spontaneity. Sure, I didn’t wake up with the intent to devirginize my skin on Wednesday and, yeah, I may have made the decision to get the tattoo half an hour prior to chillin’ in the waiting area, but I didn't just get tramped stamped. The elephant is the representation of my biggest, baddest, and life altering chapter thus far. While the physical act was made on a whim, the idea has been marinating for quite some time. Structured spontaneity.






On a side note...

Some of my favorite memories resulted from just saying "fuck it":

-"Dude, $20 off $200 with a group of four. Let's go skydiving."
-Fuck it, let's do it. 

-I'm thinking about teaching in Thailand. Fuck it, I'm doing it.
-"Let's take a bus to Cambodia, then a bus to Vietnam, and then fly back to Bangkok."
-Fuck it, let's do it.
-"Just jump off the waterfall already."
-Fuck it, I'm doing it.

Monday, February 13, 2012

The Towel Room.


I'm a firm believer that 99.9999% of life is mental. We are met with experiences that make us question our abilities and potentially cause us to fear the possibilities of the future—relationships, careers, etc. Fear of the unknown...is how the saying goes. But how does one fear something one doesn’t know? Doesn’t make sense, but it happens.


I’m not ashamed to admit that it happens to me.


Stick me in the middle of Bangkok's JJ's Weekend Market, I'll eventually find my way out. Go off trail and get lost in the Tamana Negara jungle, I'll just retrace my tracks. But take me home, no debt, no major expenses, and with the ability to make moves in every which way...




Can I freak out now?
Yes? Okay.


FREEEEEAKING OUT!





Life got complicated…and scary…when I stopped thinking about progressing. Nine months ago, I gave myself six months to start traveling again. Six months ago, I started working. Five months ago, I picked up a second gig. Two months ago, I realized I was burnt out. One month ago, I turned 25. Two weeks ago, I sat hunched over and cried in a towel bin, as I asked myself:



What the fuck am I doing?



My very own Scrubs moment.

The transition back to everything North American, more specifically, Hollywoodian (?) was the hardest thing I had to go through. The culture, the people, the mentality, this weird attachment to material things and pseudo-connections, everything…I didn’t want to associate with it. So I chose not to think about it. I grabbed the remote, paused my brain, and picked up two jobs. For four months, I worked like a machine between 50-55 hours a week with one day off. Everything that was in focus before somehow dissipated.

Work. Work out. More work. Sleep.
Work out. Work. More work. Sleep.



I turned in my two-week notice the day of my towel room breakdown. At that point, I knew my happiness was worth more than a free gym membership. And, now I can breathe, no more treading water. Brain is back on play and those wheels are turning, and they're turning hard. It's about time I took control of life, instead of letting it manhandle me. Time to refocus.



Cheers to a bright future 
of endless possibilities.


Wednesday, May 25, 2011

A glass half full

5/19/11 10:28 PM: it's finally over. i fly home tomorrow and i'm more sad to leave than excited to go home. is that bad?

This is how I started a conversation. Getting on the plane back to LA meant leaving all of Asia behind—no more backpacking, no more shake ladies or noodle guys, no more street food, no more of the last seven months. My adventure was done. El fin. Finito. NO MORE…

…or so I thought.


5/19/11 10:30 PM: …try to look at this next step as really, truly, another adventure.

This is how he ended the conversation.


Home, an adventure?


Light bulb.


In the purest sense of the word, adventure elicits excitement and fun—going to Thailand, bus-sickness three times in one hour, solo explorations, etc.—enticing the inner child in even the Scroogiest, Grinchiest of folks. But how does home fit under the same category as living in Thailand, snorkeling with sharks in Malaysia, or caving in the Philippines?


MY answer: Home is the only place where a dichotomy of me comes out of the woodwork.

budget-minimalist-walk-everywhere Kristin
vs.
label-whore-drive-four-blocks Kristin


I’ll explain:

If change is inevitable, especially when traveling, then half the fun in traveling IS coming back to experience that difference. I know I’ve changed and I’m curious to see where I’ll balance myself out. The brighter side of leaving. It was at this point in the conversation that I felt the transition from homeward reluctance to homeward enthusiasm. Going home became so exciting that I couldn’t help but smile. For the first time, I was compelled to leave the nomadic-backpacker lifestyle behind to move into the back unit of my parents’ house (I can't believe I just said that).

Long story short: getting on my flight didn’t signify the beginning to the end of my adventure but rather catalyzed its relocation, a realization that did wonders for my attitude.

Random Rant: Life, an anthology of everyday adventures and misadventures.

This conversation, in all is brevity, opened a new door to tackling each day that passes, a new lease on life so to say. My adventure isn’t just in finding personal change but living. Each day we’re confronted with life—fantastic things, little things, okay things, bad things, big things, blown out of proportion things, things. Life is as good as we make it out to be; I choose to revel in the fantastic, better the okay, and take on the rest.


LIFE AS AN ADVENTURE, a glass half full approach to living.