let yourself feel.

for being a writer, it seems silly how much i actually think in numbers; you'd think i was an accountant or something mathematically based. but no, i am a writer. it was never a concious decision i made. i never woke up saying, "alright, today, i'm a writer." when you're a writer, you just are. you are because you have to be. because there is no other way of being. it just came naturally to me and one of the high points specifically was that it had nothing to do with numbers because, truth be told: i hate numbers. they just remind me of things i need to remember.

how much money is in my bank account, how many shots go into a grande americano, how many days i have left until my library books are due, how long i have until i have to catch the MAX line light rail, how many calories are in that apple, how many words need to be in the written copy, how many inches the curtain rod needs to be. numbers, numbers, numbers, numbers and some more numbers.

but more often than not, my thoughts of numbers turn into questions of measurement. how well can i write that paper, how quickly i can make ten beverages, how fast i can bike those seven miles. it all seems to be a cosmic reminder of how good i am not. i stand up to the miraculously large life measuring device and come up short. the problem, i've noticed, is not my failure to check off boxes with my little red pen, but with how i view the world, more succinctly, how i view myself.

as a little girl, i've constantly evaluated and re-evaluated. my room was never clean enough. my clothes were never pretty enough. my books were never straight enough. never enough. never enough. this has carried on into my adult life, but at some point, i just gave up trying. life becomes too arduous when you realize that you have a list of 100 things to do each day and you'll only ever achieve 45 of them. that's not even half, so why even try? it's pointless, really. 

but the problem with not even trying to put up a fight is that, at the end of the day, you'll still feel like a failure. so i guess part of growing up is learning the balance. productivity plus giving yourself some slack. so forget thinking in just numbers. forget thinking in just words. let's begin to think in pictures. in feelings. in memories.

and today? this picture is how i feel.

broken. shattered. torn apart.

but don't necessarily believe that to be a pessimistic viewpoint,

because for me, i need to embrace my brokenness.

i need to learn how to let myself feel.

even if that feeling is pain.

"once more with feeling" 

by get cape. wear cape. fly.

as always, love, t.

sometimes my writing shocks even me.

Something Out Of Nothing.

It all started with the last day of finals in my freshman year at high school. I had just transferred to Bartlett High School into a class of nearly a thousand from a tiny 28-student class at Medinah Christian School. It wasn't until my Choir class that I had finally found my group, my niche. I spent hours and hours in the choir room, tearing open new pieces of music, learning choreography for the musicals and just plain hanging out. Naturally, the first two semesters passed by in a flurry. I hesitantly walked into the Choir room for the impending final at the end of the year. We would be required to sing a solo part and naturally, mine was in Chinese. I struggled to grasp the notes of the last three bars and prepared myself for what I thought would be the defining moment of that day. Unfortunately, I was wrong.  Our teacher greeted the entire class and told us that we would be exempt from taking our final. We all quizzically looked at each other and wondered why. A close friend and fellow student, Nassim, would not show up to the final that day - for the previous night, she had been kidnapped, taken to a nearby forrest, raped, brutally beaten and then killed. The air in the room thickened, as did the air in my throat. I felt the entire world collapse beneath my feet and an ocean of tears come to my eyes.

I wish I could say this was the first time I was confronted with a death throughout my high school career, but unfortunately, life took a different turn. It seemed as though two deaths a year ever since I was 15 seemed to be the standard in my life. Every year would pass and every time I'd grab a black dress, purchase tubes of waterproof mascara and tell a family, a friend or a loved one that my deepest sympathies were being sent their way and that I hoped God would comfort them in their sorrow. Somewhere along the way, I had forgotten to extend the same sympathies to myself. I built up walls and distanced myself from people, because insofar as I knew, they'd be gone in a blink an eye anyway. So what was the point of getting close?

It wasn't until this past summer, when my beloved Oma (grandma in german) passed away in a silent, dignified and pain-free death. It wasn't until she passed, that my family realized Oma was the glue that held us all together. So this loss, among the many others we've experienced as a family, held a dark, stormy cloud over our heads. Naturally, I pegged myself to be the strong, silent one. I would be the one who would hold my head high, swallow the tears and thank everyone at the wake and funeral for their attendance. At the wake, I held myself with the utmost grace, speaking of her unconditional love and how she taught me to have that kind of love in my own life. I spoke of happy times and seemed as if I was at peace with her passing. And it wasn't until the funeral the next day, after hearing the loving speeches from my sister and my aunt, that I finally realized that I could no longer be the stronghold, that I had to embrace the pain of the losses I had experienced and allowed myself to finally break down and admit that I was not okay.

I've had many lessons in my life, but this, the embracing of the pain and allowing it to wash over me was an experience I wasn't quite prepared for, but needed to have. For so long, I had held it all in, pretended like it didn't matter and quietly suffered because I never wanted to inconvenience anyone. But as we all know, at some point, enough is enough. We need to allow ourselves the room to breathe, to cry and to just be. It took a long time to get here, but now I've finally realized the beauty in the breakdown.

as always, love, t.

cultivation.

so as most of you know know, mike from dailybooth came and visited me. i couldn't have imagined a better get together. we spent our time eating, going to concerts and laughing the entire time. we formed an instant friendship that i am so incredibly blessed by. this weekend was just what i needed.

i've been feeling lonely and extremely lost in portland, not really knowing anyone or where i'm at ninety percent of the time, but things are getting easier, slowly but surely. sometimes i get so lonely i forget how to function and other times i couldn't be happier to be out on my own. it's a weird mix of feelings, but i sort of like it. my heart has been uneasy though. i see all of these couples and it makes me long for a sort of intimacy. i love being single, but there are definite times where it'd be nice to have someone to go along with. i talk to scott pretty often, but there seems to be some disconnect between us. i love him, but i feel for right now, it's just a best friend type of love. he's my confidant, my friend, but we still need to figure our own things out.

maybe i'm bitter about the possibility of love or maybe i just haven't found the "right person" yet. even still, maybe it's a matter of getting my ducks in a row first, like mike said: school first, love later - but i wonder if maybe that's just another excuse. a part of me desperately wants to be known intimately again, and not just sexually but i want to feel a level of intrigue, of excitement, of seduction, of feeling true connectivity. maybe i just need someone to fill a void, the emptiness i feel because i don't really feel connected to portland yet. so maybe it's a good thing i'm still on my own; yet another brick in the wall, another sign that there's still more i need to figure out for myself. there are still questions that are left unanswered. but right now? i'm still lonely and i still feel lost ninety percent of the time.

but that's where people like mike and sarah come in: a friend, a link, a connection to keep me here in portland; to guide me, to help me feel grounded. so instead of finding love, maybe i should focus on cultivating friendships, finding myself and exploring this new city.

one day at a time.

as always, love, t.

waving, not drowning.

today is one of those perfect portland days.

whilst we wait for the clouds to sneak up and 

for the rain to appear, reminding us of typical autumn weather,

the sun shining is down upon us, catching us off guard,

reminding us that surprises are always at hand, always around the corner.

if i think back, i can remember one particular day, just like this.

i was still living in grand rapids, michigan and a friend from chicago 

had come up to visit me. "let's go to the beach," she begged.

and so it was at holland state park we found ourselves,

bathing in the sunshine, immersed in the jovial voices around us.

our favorite activity was throwing ourselves into the water,

giving our complete selves into the waves. 

there was no time for holding back, no time for hesitation.

but there was the occasional moment that i'd misjudge the wave,

lose my footing and find myself being tossed in all directions,

without control and without a place to regain my balance.

it felt as though each wave was specifically timed to make sure 

i'd never reached the surface again,

but then the tide would turn and to the surface i'd return.

as i remember the strength i felt that day each time i regained my balance,

i can only notice the similarities with which the waves relate to the changes in my life as of late.

with the passing of my grandma, friendships that have ended and my move to portland,

everything keeps happening to me, one wave right after another, 

and i find myself, at times, losing my footing, being sucked under, 

facing the raging and unrelenting waves alone.

i question my levels of patience, my endurance with regards to the challenges ahead,

often turning to self-doubt, wondering if i'll ever again make it to the surface.

but then, i catch myself and remember that if i can just keep kicking my legs,

if i can just keep fighting, keep believing, keep hoping, then i will make it back to the surface.

it is too easy to forget that these changes are part of life, a part of growing up;

because without these challenges, i'd never know the strength i hold in my grasp.

it is a long and hearty process, this growing up thing.

but, i believe that with each step, i am cultivating the kind of woman i want to be.

each day is but a stepping stone and the journey is just beginning,

but jump on in, the water is perfect.

in conjunction with: soak it in.

(a letter i wrote to a friend of mine.)

tiff's tips for optimism:
_surround yourself with friends that love you unconditionally.
_immerse yourself in tea, coffee and whatever makes you happy.
_soak up as much of the vitamin d from the sun as you can.
_spend time with a really good book.

and for when you're at your lowest?
look up, look around.. find the smallest things and hold tight to them. remember that bad things are a part of this life, as are good things. life is hard and tough and you've got to fight for it, so you take your happy wherever you can find it, even if it's in something small, or something that seems silly or corny at the time.

and if things are ever really really really bad?
message call text me because sometimes you just need to:
scream, rant, talk, cry, be silent with someone else.

soak it up.

ode to lrc, band of horses.

i don't know where it has come from,
but lately, i've felt a surge of happiness.
of contentment, of hope.
of feeling like things are in their rightful places.

maybe it's the beginnings of a new chapter.
maybe it's the growth and self-development.
maybe it's the letting go and moving on.
i do not know, but for the first time in a long time,
i feel like myself again.

of course, there are all sorts of things i don't know.
all sorts of plans i have yet to figure out.
but sometimes there's loveliness in the not knowing,
in the unexpected, in the unfamiliar.

"the world is such a wonderful place."

customers and colleagues at starbucks continually ask,
"tiff, where does your energy come from? your spark?"
if only people would notice the little things.
those are what get me through the day.
the world is our's for the soaking it and appreciating.

you just have to let it in.

somewhere only we know, keane.

"i walked across an empty land
i knew the pathway like the back of my hand
i felt the earth beneath my feet,
sat by the river and it made me feel complete."

having been in portland for two months now,
my breath is constantly being taken from me.
the mountains, the expanse of trees, the willamette river,
the sight and hope that mt. hood gives me.
i love it, i feel comforted by it.

and yet, there's still something missing.
something i have yet to put my finger on.
i stand in downtown portland nearly everyday,
longing for the loud sirens, the hum of busy life,
the chaotic, minute-by-minute stresses of a busy urban area.

i find myself torn.
city. nature. city. nature.
i know i cannot have them both.
i do love portland, but i think chicago might be
where i end up.
where i settle down.

don't get me wrong,
i love pieces of portland.
it's a beautiful city with a good balance of nature
and the beginnings of a beautiful city
and right now, for me, trying to figure out who i am,
portland is a great place to do just that,


but chicago will always be home.

in conjunction with: breaking up is hard to do.

we might as well be strangers, keane.

(a post-post-post-post break up letter.)

it doesn't happen too often anymore,  but there are still times that creep up on me, times where for no reason at all really- i miss you - or rather, i miss how it was: how it began, the parts in the middle
where we lived and breathed in each other, soaking up all that we could, which is probably why it never really worked out. but i have to admit, it was sweet while it lasted. somewhere along the way, we fell madly in love with each other, and that's the part i begin to miss; the love we shared, it was real. it was passionate and exciting and thrilling and totally nerve-wracking and terrifying. it made me lose my breath and my concept of steady ground. i miss that level of intimacy: of seeing nothing else, of knowing nothing else, of having that sense of security, of being so sure that our love would save the day. i had the time of my life and i lost myself in it.

it feels like it's been ages, from there to here, but sometimes for brief lapses in the time-space continuum, it feels like it was just yesterday and after all is said and done, now that i'm on the other side of the heartache, i can say with complete resolution that i'm glad you had the strength to walk away and to end it, even though you knew it would break my heart. you accepted the role of the bad guy and you did it because you loved me enough to let me go. you knew that i needed to go figure myself out, independent of anyone, including you and, i can't thank you enough for what you've given to me by way of what you had to take away from me.

and so here i find myself, all grown up and with the strength to say that:
i love the memory of you enough to let it go.
cut scene.
roll credits.
end.
t.

breaking up is hard to do.

we might as well be strangers, keane.

i've been thinking a lot about breakups lately,
with some of my friends in the throws of the pain it causes.

when you're with someone for a long time,
certain feelings tend to procure, plans tend to be made
and whether or not it's the "real deal" crosses your mind.
for some, the level of intimacy increases with each step
and for others, it drives them apart. relationships end and hearts are broken.
feelings are hurt, harsh words are said and doors are slammed.
they exit each other's lives and that's the end of it.

each person goes down their separate path, not looking back.
but for the rare few of us, we stand there, awe-stricken. confused, broken, lost.
as you can tell, i've found myself in that situation a time or two.

and what really plagues me: where does the love go?
how can you go from spending special moments together,
loving each other, sharing in hopes and dreams
to suddenly becoming strangers.
cut film, roll credits, end.

it seems so.. sudden.
but maybe, for some relationships, that's the only way to heal.
the only way to get out of a bad situation. tear off that band-aid and run.
maybe for others, it's just a business transaction-
swipe the card, relieve me of my debt, i'm out the door.

to me, it all seems very passe. an easy out.
most of us are looking for a goodbye as meaningful as the relationship.
regardless there is one fact we can agree upon:
breaking up is hard to do.
hard to go through. hard to heal from.
there's no way around the pain, no way under it or above it.
just through it. 

my breakup advice?
you just have to keep going, take deep breaths.
and hold tight to the fact that each day gets easier.
surround yourself with people who will listen, bring you chocolate,
listen to you bitch, drink shot for shot with you and let you be sad mad happy crazy.



"we're strangers in an empty space.. it's easier to be apart,
we might as well, we might as well, we might as well be strangers."

wires and waves, rilo kiley.

so another day had come and gone

and i am already feeling the anxiety of not being in school,

and for lack of a better feeling, i feel like a failure.

it's as if i'm being punished for my uncertainty at ages 18, 19 and 20.

i feel completely weighed down by all the things i should be.

all the things i know i am not. all the things i will never be.

but no, i am not any of those things.

i don't even really know how to let people in.

after all these relationships, falling in love, falling out of love -

all of these things feel like wasted time.

with all of the things i've learned, i still feel like i know nothing.

i remember being in high school, feeling like i had all the time in the world.

feeling like things were much simpler, decisions were made 

and i never had to worry because there was always another year of school.

back then, life was all black and white. and now? it's nothing but shades of gray.

filled with tons of unanswered questions and ticking clocks.

life became so complicated so quick. without me even noticing.

i know, i'm only twentythree. i'm still young.

i have lots of time but maybe time is but an illusion.

maybe when you think you have a lot of it, 

you really don't.

time is fleeting.

"and sometimes lonely hearts, 

they just get lonelier."

single and fabulous?

the earthquake of '73, the fruit bats.

i'm sitting in a starbucks in downtown portland, overlooking the square.
it's a surprisingly busy monday, the rain does not stop for anyone.
everyone's got their fall jackets, boots and umbrellas out,
prepared for whatever kind of weather oregon might throw at them.
and here i am, having absent-mindedly left my coat at home,
sticking out like a sore thumb, with my pants soaked to my ankles.

but that's not the only thing i am noticing that separates me from the townfolk;
everyone is paired off. it's like noah's ark and i didn't get the memo.
i've been told that oregon is a place people come to settle down,
but seriously, couples are everywhere i look.
a couple of teenagers making out on the corner 10th and yamhill,
the sweetest gay couple cuddling on the steps of pioneer square,
even a man and wife committing to a life together,
regardless of the rain and doubt that threatens to separate them.

everyone here is so unabashed,
unafraid of the unequivocal love they share.
people love so freely here.
and then there are people like me.

people that build walls and make every excuse to run away.
even when a great thing is staring them straight into the eyes,
even when every promise you could ever imagine being promised,
we still walk away. we still say no. we cling to our singlehood.
maybe we're scared. maybe we're damaged. but our love, it's a fight.

i've wondered if maybe there's someone out there that will fight for it.
or maybe, maybe someday i will have to break down my walls for someone.

all i know, whatever i do, for right now, i have not found that person yet.
and until i do, i will have to walk in these single shoes.
and that is perfectly alright with me.

good enough, will it ever be?

heaven knows i'm miserable now, the smiths.

i fumble my words even though they flow even in my head
and my khaki trousers can never stay perfectly clean.
i have frizzy hair and i've noticed that one leg is shorter than the other.
i constantly find the easiest concepts difficult to grasp,
yet the hardest ones come so naturally.

i keep wondering if there is something wrong with me.
keep thinking that if only i could do a, b, c, 1, 2, 3 - things will be alright.
things will finally feel normal. the way they're supposed to.

if only i could be.
if only i was more.

why is it that i can tell other people how amazing they are;
list off their greatest qualities, all of their strengths.
but when it comes to myself, all i have is a list a mile long
of things i have yet to do, things i want to be, things i will never be.

"i was looking for a job, then i found a job,
but heaven knows i'm miserable now."

i constantly feel as though i am not measuring up.
there is always someone better out there, always someone to beat me.
maybe that's why i'm having such trouble writing lately.
why i have not been published. maybe it's my fear holding me back,
my constant worry of whether or not good enough ever will be.


i am trying to just breathe in and out.
breathe in positivity, breathe out negativity.
but really, i am worried that my work will never be
what i want it to be, what i need it to be.

and such is the curse of being a perfectionist..

the road ahead.

her morning elegance, oren lavie.

everyone keeps asking me about how i am adjusting to portland,

and i never quite know how to answer. i'm still new to this whole area.

i still feel like a stranger. yes, things are becoming easier, 

but there are still a bunch of unanswered questions.

i have already learned so much about myself by moving here.

i am a city girl, this much has become evident. 

all the things most people hate about the city, i am in love with.

i love the noise, the sirens, the lights, the constant go-go-go mentality.

i find it comforting to be surrounded yet so distant.  

but i definitely have a deep appreciation for all things nature.

i find myself comforted by the sight of mt. hood on clear days.

the beautiful vantage point of gorgeous starry nights. 

you can miss out on these things while you're in a big city.

i am growing a spot in my heart for portland, slowly but surely.

but i do know one thing for sure: i probably will not settle down here.

everyone keeps saying i'm too city for portland, i'm too stuck in my ways.

and this might be true to some extent, but i'm willing to adapt, to learn and to grow.

because isn't that why life is about? constant growth. constant change.

donald miller once wrote it quite beautifully,

"i want to keep walking away from the person i was a moment ago,

because a mind was made to figure things out, not read the same page recurrently."

so here i am.

embracing the process.

figuring myself out.

adventuring, portland style.