Is it possible to have a quiet mind?

I feel as if perhaps I live a life on a rollercoaster. Writing the previous post finds me sitting many miles in the air somewhere in between the two coasts of the US, depleted. I look at the sun and the clouds and search my ability to regain my optimism of yesterday afternoon- I was filled with thoughts that this weekend would change my life and extreme excitement to see my mother.

Now I sit here with the fear of work not progressing and longing to run. As if running could sweat out the toxic thoughts. Its a common occurrence after a B depletion- a workout can return me to neutral. 

Just two days ago, Thursday 1am, I basked in my charismatic glory in the taxi ride home. Recanting moments of befriending strangers and their captured attention as I talked. I was funny?! I was irresistible! Not wanting anything- I was content, confident and self-assured. I even wondered if part of my audience had told Carter that I was spectacular, for Carter, the mansion’s owner, wrote me off upon our initial hello. Upon my exit, without a conversation in between, he asked if a common friend had my number looking at me as if I was something ….and that was just the icing on the cake, I was pursued heavily all evening …capturing glances from one suitor as I spoke to another …. However, flattered, the smiles and laughter at my stories by the couple remain my favorite night’s memory.

I thought of my tanned skin and thanked the island for the way it is has changed so much more than my appearance. 

NOW, I wonder if I am crazy. I feel anything but magnetic. Invisible even– as the “stewarder” managed to pass me and my outreached hand each drink service and garbage retrieval.

I feel trapped in this plane … I normally love flying but my bags are crowding me as are my thoughts. 

I have been blogging for two weeks and I look at these posts, the emotions are extreme … I realize this is what my mind knows and I ponder, looking at the girl next to me who is managing to sit listening to her music with her eyes half-closed for this entire 4.5 hour flight, whether some people simply have a quiet mind? I have consummed 2 coffees, lettuce, water, diet sprite, finished a book, two magazines, two blog entries, and listened to spanish podcasts ….

Perhaps this hyperactivity, is why at 25, I truly believe I have managed to have quite a life. I do however lack an ex-husband or children and a part of me is searching for her lost child. Lately, I am feeling small, meek and simple. Only affected by the kids on the playground. Another part of me dons a suit, pointed stilettos, a controlled voice, and an independent aura. 

Perhaps, this discrepancy is also the reason I don’t have an end vision with work, a purpose. Perhaps I tasted responsibility too young, and the pitfalls of success were made apparent before true business success was had. This coupled with my disease, the culprits behind the redirection of my life plan, the CEO who would start a nonprofit. 

I suppose I am not too far off from that, but the vigor and appetite is suppressed. I worry if a man will be be threatened by my success, I long to be supported and not solely independent, I fear being a cougar. Clad in prada and dior, surrounded by Paul Evans and le corbusier, hirst and hiroshi kukimoto, horses …

I think of horses, being active, nature, cars, wind in my hair, a house and discovering my ability to nurture and love.The stirring of dormant characteristics- worrying, disciplining, teaching.


My tastes, my lives, my emotions, all extremes. My internal conflict with work I believe is the recognition that perhaps achieving “success” makes my life of nature, at best, a solitary future endeavor. 


I write this now and truly examine that fear ….I see its silly … 


Future post- my future, my vision, my purpose

Why I started this blog

I lay here on the beach, the sun although masked by clouds, is glaring in my peripheral. The desire to shut my eyes and escape is much like my normal tendencies. I am typically hyperactive and one who when the activities come to a halt (most often at night when I should be crawling into bed) numbs myself from my subconscious- much like an alcoholic, however my chosen drug is not alcohol. More to share about that later.

My desire to start this blog is from the introspective dialog that plays in my mind and from the realization that this dialog is much healthier than the numbed mind produced by my “drug”. So, this blog is my therapy, my purging of my suppressed emotions. You are who I trust. You are my therapist and if you become my friend, it will be an unconditional one as this blog will not be written with filters.

As all things in life that we devote inordinate amounts of time to, there should be a mutual and societal benefit. You are my cure. I offer you whatever may come from reading my musings. I make no promises, but this blog may inadvertantly result in perspective, learned empathy, lessons in love, sex, money, confidence, and a visceral experience of my life as the unconventional learning how to happily chase the unattainable.

— Now, sandy, salty and sun-kissed me

“As evolving human beings, we are inherently imperfect and we’re not capable of reaching perfection, because we are in a constant state of development. But the path to evolutionary enlightenment is paradoxical, because I have found that the most appropriateposture for consistent higher development is one of ceaselesslyreaching for perfection while knowing full well that we’ll never be able to achieve it. Only reaching toward that which is absolute—ever striving to attain the unattainable—puts the self in a position to consistently evolve. ” – Andrew Cohen