Metaphorically, speaking

Dear you,
or me.

Today, something great happened. As you were slicing your Kraft cheese, you glanced at the expiration date. And I know, why do we always start these letters so strangely? Because I'm me. or you. or whatever. The date just so happened to be October 16th. The day you and Dean so lovingly picked out together after finding you had to wait another eight months to be married.
Four months and two weeks, exactly.

And as a Heavenly Father devotee, you instantly felt it was a gift from God. I know, I know. An expiration date is a gift from God? Now everyone just sounds pathetically insane. But you never look at the expiration dates (unless they are in yours and Dean's fridge--and then who knows how long that cheese has been in there.)

BUT ANYWAY. That just made your day so fantastic--to finally have something expire in your wedding month. And then, your dad just plants a giant, fantastic, surprising, metaphorical gift right in your metaphorical lap that you have the option to open now, or wait to open.
And you've decided to open this beautifully metaphoric gift from God.

And now you and Dean will be able to grow together closer to God nightly, weekly, monthly--or whenever you please.

And that is enough to make these next four months and two weeks a piece of cake.

love always//talor

Oh, there you are.

OKAY so I have been inspired from a lot of things this week. But last night I was reading a girl's instagram posts--Rachel Brathen aka yoga_girl. She experienced her best friend's death a few weeks ago (I cannot even imagine) and I stumbled upon this post which made me cry endlessly.

"You are gone but you are not. I have taught only two classes since you passed away and Savasana is almost unbearable. Your presence has been so strong. At the end of Saturday's class I had everyone put their hands to their hearts and as I walked around giving small adjustments, I realized...you are in every single person here in this room. I adjusted a girl's shoulders, she has a wooden earring in one of her ears. Just like you. Another girl has a dread, just one, nestled in her messy hair. Just like you. One person is smiling, just like you. Someone has toes that remind me of yours. A mat the same color as the one you always had in your bedroom. "Look!" you told me one day. "I bought a good yoga mat! Finally!" I looked at it and laughed, "no, you didn't honey. This is a crappy mat. You'll slip!" You frowned: "But it was $20!" When I told you a good mat will cost you at least $50 you looked at me like I was joking. "$50 for a yoga mat??? Tss. You super yogis are so picky. I'll use this one forever and it will be good you'll see." And you did. It's broken and dirty and smells a little bit like mold but you used that thing everyday. And I held it in my arms all the way from San Jose to Aruba but I still haven't rolled it out at home. I can't. It's leaning against the altar I made you, waiting for a time when I'll be able to think of these things and still stay sane but I'm not sure that time will ever come. But in that Savasana two days ago I saw you in every person in that room. And for every person I touched I felt you even more and at one point I felt my tears drip onto the girl beneath me and she grabbed my hand. She looked me straight in the eye and said "it's okay" and I knew right then: that was you, too. She came up to me after class with tears in her eyes. "I lost my husband, I am where you are." And I am understanding now more and more that we are all the same. We are all sisters. We're in this together. If you are in everyone that means you are in me also and that means you never really left. It's the only comfort I have and it's beautiful."

If that doesn't just make you weep, I don't know what will.

Throughout my life I have seen death come. Sometimes quickly, unannounced, other times slowly and patiently. But it comes.



It's hard and painful and that's all I'm going to say.




But then, days or months or years pass, and you begin to see things.
 
I can randomly take a breath of air and smell the same bush that was in my grandparent's yard. I can smell my grandmother's perfume she wore, and I will always be able to hear her laugh in my sister's laugh. And sometimes, I will randomly hear my uncle's voice say, "Talor," as he did when I was little--like when he was about to tell me to play a prank on my mom. And I will never forget my grandpa's voice when he would tell me I'm beautiful. I will always be able to feel his light hugs and my grandma's nimble fingers on my face.

And that knowledge is peaceful and full of love and spirit and connectedness.
I realize now more than ever that we are never alone. Not ever.

Because we are all human. We are all connected, and we really are in this together.


 They haven't really left.





 In fact, they've been in your heart all along,

and they will stay there.

A Letter to Myself

 Dear Me,

I cannot expect my body to be overly muscley, stick thin, or perfectly perfect. Why should it be? Will it make more people love me? No. Will it really make me happier? Probably not. Does it really matter? Not in the long run.

The women I look up to, who I inspire to be, I inspire to be not for their thigh gap, their toned arms, or their perfect body. I look up to them for their determination, their strength, their ability to love and to laugh and to be courageous. There is no correlation between thigh gaps and courage. So I should stop treating it as though it will give me such.

The man I want to love me for eternity will not love me more for having perfectly shaped legs or a perfectly flat stomach. Because eternal love is unconditional love, and he will love me when I work out and he will love me when I gain 5 pounds. Why? Because a flat stomach doesn't give me love and respect. Because a thigh gap doesn't tell you how lovely my personality is. Because there is no correlation between love and perfect curves. So I will stop treating it as though it will give me such.

 And how sad that I should be so harsh on my own body? The body that wakes me in the morning and puts me to rest at night.
The body that cradles my soul.

So, instead of striving towards a thigh gap, or for sleek arms, or a flat six pack, I will wish for other things.

I will wish to always have legs that can carry me up into the mountains and back down to my home. I will wish for lungs that make it so I can laugh for hours and run for miles. I will wish for arms that hug perfectly and cradle little souls. I will wish for a backbone that stands straight and firm. I will wish for hands that can always paint and inspire.

Because those things create love, laughter, determination, strength and courage.

Breathe.




I deserve love--whether I'm perfect or not.
(repeatx10000)

I love you.

Love, Me

h a p p i n e s s

Today I'm talking about happiness.

I tend to go through motions of emotions (that sentence sounds weird). Like I have one really good week, where I'm really happy. And I have one week where I'm kind of sad. And another week where I'm stressed, or anxious. And it seems like I'm never truly happy--just happy--for more than a week out of a month. And I'm not talking about the kind of "happy" that we have grown accustom to, where we have a pretty good day so we are content, or we have a day where nothing bad happens, so that must be a happy day. I'm talking about the happy where everything is absolutely perfect and life is so good and nothing could ever go wrong and in your mind you are skipping through a field of daisies. 

And I think we rarely see these days because we are so focused on other things--that thesis that needs to be written, that six hour shift you have to get through, that doctor appointment you have to go to, etc etc etc. it seems to be that if we have one event in the day that we don't want to face, it becomes a bad or "normal" day--the type of days that consume most of the month. And maybe none of you can relate to this and I just have some emotional disorder, but I think a lot of people focus on the negatives throughout the day. And as much as I hate to admit it, I fall into that category a lot of the time. 

How does this happen? Attitude, perspective, and complaint. Today is a perfect example for me. I have to take a dreaded math test. If you don't know, I have the math brain of a junior high kid. I cannot, and do not want to, grasp the concept of math and it's importance in my life. 

So, I woke up with a negative attitude. Literally the first thought I had today was, "Oh no, I have math." And how sad is that? I didn't even notice the sun shining through my window or the birds chirping. And I of course have a terrible perspective about math. Math is the class that I tend to skip because it is hell to sit through and learning math won't do any good for me (I know, I know, it will). But you get the gist. I hate math so much that it ruins my day. And not just Thursdays, it ruins half of my Wednesdays because I sit dreading the next day. And lastly, I complain. Holy cow I complain like no other about math. Thursdays are the day that in my mind, the fields of daisies become fields of fire. 

And I'm sure my happiness would increase so much if I stopped dwelling on the negativity of math and just accepted it as part of my day. And I would probably see my self esteem rise on Thursdays if I stopped seeing myself as "stupid" when it came to math. And I'm positive that Thursdays wouldn't be so bad if I woke up listing the positives throughout the day, instead of the negatives--and maybe, just maybe, Thursdays could be a day of happiness for me. 

So that's my goal from now on: to stop having a bad attitude about things I don't want to do, to better my perspective and list the positives that will come from the things I don't want to do, and to stop complaining about the things I don't want to do. 

This will probably be really hard for me at first, and maybe it will always be hard for me, but I'm almost certain that having a positive attitude can become a habit. And I will make it a habit. 

And maybe it won't be as hard if my fiancé keeps up those cat pictures. :) 

Also, I'm doing the 100 happy days challenge via Instagram. 

Want to learn more about it? http://100happydays.com

Do it.