My Indian Summer.

It has been a few months of ups and downs, highs and lows; but isn't that how life is suppose to go? My life is possibly a bit more chaotic then that of the average person. Maybe, I am just trusted more by the stars above. They must trust me not to give up. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r8wNVk288R4

With many heavy winds trying to blow me down and deter me from my dream I rely on my strong navigational skills to remind me of the importance of trusting my intuition. Life seems to be trying to sway my views and make me see things differently then my usual routes. I look to my left and see an island, but get closer to shore and realize my thirst for the answer lead me to an illusion of the answer. I set back out to sea, not knowing which direction I am heading. I think I see many other islands, but I just don't know. The directions are all so unclear. I lost my compass months ago and am now relying on nothing but my intuition. Logic is eliminated and emotion has stepped in. Interestingly, my emotions have always frightened me as I tend to feel them so intensely. Now, I welcome them. They are my survival skill out of this sea.

If this chapter if my life were a season it would be a cold long winter. Each time I think I feel the warmth of spring the cold wind reminds me of the pain that is still left to endure. I've learned to love the winter. Not because it has become more comfortable being cold and feeling pain. Many people never feel the cold of winter. They enjoy the comfort of summer and spring and so they never venture into the winter. I think it's necessary we all experience the winter; the pain. How else do we expect to heal? To grow.

Perhaps people don't visit the winter because its uncomfortable and you don't know what to expect. I've always been a curious girl, and I jumped at the opportunity to explore the winter. I choose to go climb the snowy mountains and make snow angels, then scream as loud as possible to let it all go. I hope I feel the flood of an avalanche. Maybe, surviving an avalanche will help me realize which way is up. After I realize which way is up then I can start my trek back to the sun. Perhaps the sun will shine on my face like a warm spring day, or maybe it will burn my flesh like a hot summer day. Curiosity of the future excites me instead of frightens me. A new change that I have never experienced before entering the winter. Life is beginning to excite me all because I'm stuck in the winter.

All I know is that I'm a ship at sea in the middle of winter. In the distance I see my island, he's always been there waiting patiently for me to arrive. He believed in me when I didn't believe in my own internal compass. He loved me before I went into the depths of the snow and explored the parts I hid from him. He always loved me and as a real island he didn't move. Real islands can't move. They are lumps of rock that hold still. I love that about an island. No season can deteriorate them, except maybe rain. Even so, the island rock can endure so much that the snow of my winter hardly made a dent in the return from my trip. This ship has a direction, she sees the island in the distance and knows it will guide her home. The sun is warm on her face and once she arrives she can see the summer sun gleaming on the beautiful zenful island of the future. The snow will have melted from her soul and the warmth of the sun on the island will show her she never wants to leave. 

My Indian Summer.

I Did It My Way...

I made it through first year (barely), and am here able to finally write again. The next year of graduate school will still be challenging, but nothing compared to the year that just finished. It was horrible. I advice anyone who is considering a masters degree to really really make sure it is what you want to do with your life. It is the type of experience that will bend you to the point of breaking-and in the case of SLP class 2013-14 many did break. It became a regular occurrence to pass someone crying in the hall and implicitly understand that it's a bad day. Often times we did not need comforting, we just needed to let the tears fall until we realized there was work to be done and clients to see.

The best part about all of this is knowing that the worst is behind us! We made it. Sure, some of us failed clinic or a class and have to repeat, but overall it is nothing we can't handle.

I made personal gains through this past year as well. I feel so much more confident in who I am. I no longer view parts of myself as "bad" and accept myself. My faith has grown to an infinite level. I believe in life after this because of my father's sudden passing. I also believe with every ounce of my being that everything happens for a reason. I feel happy, blessed, and trusting of life.

Why I chose science...

The reason I chose Science over Art....

In today's society I chose science because science is a constant and it fulfills me in a way that art does not. It does not touch my soul but it puzzles my mind. I would rather spend a day of science and go home and paint.

Art is something that touches my soul. I would never want it to dictate my life. I could not want to have a boss tell me what to create. The constrictions would make me very unhappy. Part of what I love about art is that it is unique to how I feel in that moment and it allows me to express myself.

So maybe I chose the safe route. I chose science and I paint on the damn weekends.

We're All Mad Here

Hi loves,

I would like to update you all. I completed my stuttering and cleft palate course. I found it oh-so interesting. I must admit I had my doubts coming to this school and it's lack of modern views on areas that will continue to impact my career for years to come. However, this semester I feel much more satisfied with my educational experience.

The clients that I was assigned this semester are meshing well with my passion and I am ever so excited to help them succeed with their goals. I have a 6 foot something gentleman who stutters and another sweetheart with down syndrome. Yesterday, I thanked my mom for exposing me to individuals with disabilities so young. One of my first friends was one of my moms clients who had a developmental delay. Her name was Cindy and she taught me to accept everyone just the way they are. I love the diversity that is within our universe.

When people ask me what I do? What does a Speech Pathologist (in training) really do? The answer stumps nearly everyone in the field. It is difficult to put into words what we do. We look at the person that we are working with as if they were a puzzle. We have science that we need to apply to the individual but then we need to understand that each peson is as unique as a snowflake and therefore we must apply art. We must be able to look into the clients eyes and read what they really want to happen. We must help guide their goals and motivate their progress. We are helpers, teachers, counsellors, and scientists all in one profession.

To all of you who were wondering what I was doing out here in the world.

xo

My loves,

I am sorry for the sparseness of my writing and the inconsistency. I predict the remainder of my time at school will result in me going missing for periods at a time.

I have just finished my winter semester, which is different then Canadian schools. This was through the month of January where we took one class everyday. The class was on stuttering and cleft palate. I found it very interesting and felt affirmation regarding my career choice. Now, I get a weekend off and then I start spring semester AKA hell part 2. I plan to write again this weekend and hopefully inspire a few souls to reach out to those they love.

Love N

Maybe our eyes are the moon and our brain the stars.

I was in the winter of my life, and the men I met along the road were my only summer.
At night I fell asleep with visions of myself, dancing and laughing and crying with them.
Three years down the line of being on an endless world tour, and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times.
I was a singer - not a very popular one,
I once had a dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events some of those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken.
But I didn't really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing it to know what true freedom is.
When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I'd been living, they asked me why - but there's no use in talking to people who have home.
They have no idea what it's like to seek safety in other people - for home to be wherever you lay your head.
I was always an unusual girl.
My mother told me I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean...
And if I said I didn't plan for it to turn out this way I'd be lying...
Because I was born to be the other woman.
I belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone.
Who had nothing, who wanted everything, with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn't even talk about it, and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me.

Every night I used to pray that I’d find my people, and finally I did on the open road.
We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore, except to make our lives into a work of art.
Live fast. Die young. Be wild. And have fun.
I believe in the country America used to be.
I believe in the person I want to become.
I believe in the freedom of the open road.
And my motto is the same as ever:
"I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when I’m at war with myself I ride, I just ride."
Who are you?
Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies?
Have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them?
I have. I am fucking crazy.
But I am free.