Monday, April 2, 2018

35 on the cusp of spring

It's been a while.  
5 years a while.
I graduated from medical school.
Took time away from medicine.
Moved 5 times.
Had a miscarriage.
Had a wedding celebration.
Had a baby.
Started a psychiatry residency in Vermont.

There, now we're all caught up.

In many ways, I think I will eventually refer to those years as the lost years.

So many changes without a lot of grounding left me lost to myself in many ways.
Drifting down this river without sticking my oar in to change the speed or noticing the way the light bounces off the water makes every mile of life blur together into nondescript moments.

So I'm back to blogging.
I don't presume to think anything I write down is important enough to be preserved or mined for data (hey Facebook!) but it helps me notice my life as it's passing.
It helps hold me accountable to myself and the life I want to be living.
It makes me pause and feel the water flow over my fingertips.
And sometimes sharing the small, quiet moments are what bring us together anyway.

So here I am, turning 35 on a cold, bluebird April day.
It's one of those spring mornings that still feels like winter,
but you can tell something is about to change.
There are birds chirping, the ground is soft again, and the sun now warms my car as it sits.
I love this moment.
I'm an Aries, a spring baby.
I love the beginning, that moment on Keats' Grecian Urn of lovers frozen in the moment before a kiss, the anticipation, the start of it all.
While the trees are still totally bare and the mornings are frigid, you know it is about to start and you haven't missed a single moment yet.

I think that's why I loved youth, why I've been so reluctant to grow up.
That pluripotent state where everything is still possible.
I've recently been introduced to the concept of necessary losses,
that while we are growing up we are gaining skills, growing, adding,
and that from middle age, we have to learn to give up illusions, unrealistic expectations, options.
And that sucks.
So as I cross that threshold I'm left wondering how an Aries does middle age well without buying a red sports car?
I think it has something to do with being intentional to not let go of the things that are really important to you, that keep that spark in your soul going.
Maybe I can necessarily lose the 9-5 life instead.
I'm not entirely sure what it is going to look like, but my birthday present to myself is to pay attention along the way and try to stay grounded in myself.

Monday, March 3, 2014


I was determined to like January this year.
January is hard.
It is the philosophical start of winter.
November and December are cold months filled with holidays, plans, and lights.
But then you turn the corner of the new year,
and January stretches out in front of you like a cold expanse.

It is the start of inertia months.
Like a comet orbiting the earth, gliding smoothly through the dark spaces,
no new forces are acting on it.
Winter is the time of encasement, not creation.
We do not bring new forces to bear on our lives.
We simply hope to avoid getting sucked in by the earth gravitational pull,
and if we do,
we hope that the plans and the light we stored up in previously months will be enough
to keep us from crashing into the frozen earth.

I carried some plans into January,
bundled up tight and held closely to my chest.

I would cross-country ski,
I would sit and read by the fire,
our money would be enough now that we had moved out into the country.
We would hibernate until the spring.

But Jack Frost's fingers casually decided to pluck each of these from me.

January was a month of ice and below zero temperatures,
not a month of snow for skiing.
The roof on our Jeep started to peel away, we had debts pop up we didn't know about,
our money would not be enough.
So we would not sit and read by the fire, we would go to work.

There became a need to change our direction.
But when you are floating along in space,
the only thing that will change your direction is a force from within.
And that force was hibernating.

I kept trying to light the fuse,
but the lighter only flickered and flickered out.

So instead, we will ride out the winter,
and see where we land when we crash into the frozen earth.
And build from there.

And in the mean time,
I will watch the crows in the snow scattered field with straws of hay from the harvest poking through.
That scene of black, white, and beige.
The colors of winter.
And I will watch as the crows peck intently around the field,
as if they are reading braille,
telling the secrets of winter.  


In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
snow had fallen, snow on snow,
in the bleak midwinter, long ago.
-Christina Rossetti

Monday, January 27, 2014

RECAP/ April #2

Birthday celebration:
Part 2!

This was the first of many times seeing my family 
in the spring and summer.
They had gotten tickets for the first ever concert at the Georgia Football stadium.
The Gibson Bus for the tailgate.
As you do, as you do.

I love me some country

But this shall we put it...
a cultural experience for the beau.
He'd never before seen the parade of Southern girls with blonde hair, sun dresses and cowboy boots.  
A far cry from Vermont flannel.

My sister Jenna showing off the bus.

There are guitars inside!

 The beau strumming barefoot.

Expressing my love of the Edge on the bus.

 The beau had a bit more passionate love for B.B.


 Nope, just drinking water here...


So much country!

End of the evening pizza.
Can we talk about how amazing this photo is?
They are besties.

Not sure if gets much better
than to get to celebrate twice with friends and family for your 30th!

Don't you know,
Ain't nothing in the whole wide world
Like a southern girl.
-Tim McGraw

Sunday, January 26, 2014

RECAP/April #1

I turned 30!

My best friend flew up to Vermont for her spring break to celebrate,
which makes her a super champ because early April in Vermont is still pretty much frigid without the pretty snow.
The weekend before my birthday,
we threw a sparkles party.
Complete with macarons, champagne cocktails, and crown decorating.

The boys were next door drinking beer,
but they eventually came over and made their own crowns,
because they were jealous.

Then we all headed out to the back room
at Duino Duende,
which is like a secret pirate meeting room,
where we drank and feasted and laughed.
It was awesome.

Then on my actual birthday,
we decided to head up to Montreal for the day.
Only it was freezing and snowing.

Me: Here, here are some long underwear.  You might want them if we're going to be walking around the city.

Cate: What do you mean?

Me:  Just put them on under your jeans.

Cate: Under my jeans?

Me: Yep.  Welcome to Vermont.  In April.

But we wandered the Old Town...
ate crepes...
walked through art galleries...
and managed to sneak a glimpse of the feeling that we were traveling again.

Then we came home to a homemade cake
(and cake stand gift!)
from Miss Lizzie,
and the most amazing steak dinner I've ever had from the beau.
Followed by Cards Against Humanity.

30 was off to a good start.
And this was only celebration #1!


Thirty was so strange for me.
I've really had to come to terms with the fact that I am now a walking and talking adult.
-C.S. Lewis

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Out of Hibernation

I've missed this.
Oh so much.
Blogging got me through medical school.
And I've missed it.
That chance to sit down...
slow the film reel while replaying what's been going on in your life...
and blessedly recognize the beautiful moments, the lessons, to really see the people around you.

I haven't written over the last 8 or 9 months,
I find it very hard to describe the landscape around me,
when I feel like I'm in the middle of a tornado.
(Although that's probably exactly when I should be trying to.)

It seems like the spinning may be slowing down though,
and at least I can tell you where I've been.

I graduated from medical school.
I turned 30.
I moved. Twice.
I have held 5 or 6 different part time jobs.
I have been broke.  Many times.
I have gotten to see my family.  Many times.
I got to go to Scotland for a wedding.
My best friend and I had our first attempt at starting a business.
I bought a Winnebago!
And most, importantly,
I got engaged
to this wonderful man.

And I'd like to share it all.
To relive the glorious moments and to suss out what I learned.


To be able to look back upon ones life in satisfaction, is to live twice.
-Khalil Gibran

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

The Winnebago

Freedom is my drug.
And I've sold all my security to pay for it.

"Those who surrender freedom for security will not have, nor do they deserve, either one."
-Benjamin Franklin

Friday, May 10, 2013


I am now officially out of my 20's.

I had been rounding up to 30 
for a few months before I actually turned 30,
you know,
you want to try a new decade on for size 
before you purchase it.

I have more to share on that transition later,
it involves sequins.
Lots of sequins and feathers and crowns.
Pretty typical.

I just stumbled on this amusing article about mistakes to make in your 20's,
and liked #20.

#20. Fall in love with everyone and everything – cities, people, bodegas, McDonald’s hashbrowns, weird little lumpy rocks, men pretending to be architects, pocket squares, old television shows, countries, Bette Davis, recent parolees, an entire floor at Bergdorf Goodman, peacocks, Victorian mannequins, Beetlejuice (movie and person), one specific brick at Grand Central station, my postman (Preston), snapdragons, old women in Chanel, Playboy bunnies, the Prince of Luxembourg, all manner of nicknames – and do so every four minutes for the rest of your life. Let yourself get capsized by great tidal waves of love at completely unpredictable intervals. You will have to try to be very, very brave to do this. Be a little reckless, in spite of that fact that it is a certainty that some of these loves will wreck you. But in the end, you’ll be a magnificent piece of wreckage. You won’t make it out of this alive, but, cheer up, no one does. And I think, at the end, you will feel so much gratitude that you were here at all, in this strange, colorful, noisy, deadly world, whose very creation seems like the most endlessly inventive, amusing, wonderful sort of mistake.

Read more:

I'll try to remember to do so every four minutes
for my 30's.