em·a·nate
/ˈeməˌnāt/
verb
(of something abstract but perceptible) issue or spread out from (a source).

I have tried to find the right words for this specific blog. I have even struggled with the title. I have attempted multiple times to circle around to it – what important messages do I have for the past 30 years of my life? But apparently, inspiration only strikes when you don’t expect something of it.

Last night, I asked myself what my message was. My message feels messy, but it untangled and unraveled finally before I fell asleep, and revealed itself as a series of pillars in my life. Keep in mind, these are my metaphors and life lessons, not your own. I am sure this life journey has taught you many things that I have not yet learned, or vice versa. Don’t take my advice if you don’t honor or respect the thoughts that got me there. Life is not a one-size-fits-all rodeo.  I hope you can find amusement from my musings.

Career. This is the first pillar of life that I had once had huge goals and dreams and plans. Eventually, the goal of becoming an international photographer who was always on the road, dissolved to nothingness. The pillar of my career in my life has become less prominent. It has meant less. I like this feeling, but it is also quite directionless. I look forward to seeing how my relationship to it continues to evolve as I listen. 

I had hoped to use my creativity to lift up others, make them feel seen and loved. To capture the human experience with loving awareness is to be loving awareness in those moments.

I got addicted to that high – of being so tuned in, I could tune out. I wasn’t just watching my couples barefoot on the beach – I was part of it. I was the wet sand on their feet and the cold ocean waves, I was the breeze and the sun reflecting on the water. I was also the photographer, and the shutter click, and the witness, but I preferred the part where I got to be the witness… Over time, I learned my creativity is only meant to be shared after I fill my own cup with it first. After I nurture myself, I know how to care for others. That whole “make them feel seen and loved” was some kind of avoidance tactic – misdirected, where I was actually depriving myself of those very things.

My creativity is my life force, and I have failed again and again to gently hold it so that it doesn’t run dry. My creativity is my intellectual property – it cannot be forced out of me (by me or anyone else). It is the thing I have honed and shaped, year after year, like clay on a potter’s wheel. I have dedicated my life thus far to feeling and opening fully to the human experience, so that I have a deeper well to tap into. If I do choose to share my creativity with you, just know you are deeply loved, because this is my most sacred offering. 

My advice: never choose a career, let it find you. Let it reveal itself to you and be open to it changing 10 or 100 times within your lifetime. You are not one definable thing, you are all of your past experiences bottled up into one body. Pick something you enjoy, and follow your joys as they evolve. Money will find you when you find your joy, when you experience that oneness with life, where you become the witness – when you are the paper and the pen and the keyboard and the chair you sit on, when you are the gardener and the flower and the worms and the soil and the rain – that’s the good stuff. Listen to yourself when it is time to say goodbye. Don’t rush the process of finding your genius – it is not found, it is formed. Sing your own song, even if it sounds off-key to everyone else. Don’t sell your creative energy, unless it equally fills or overflows your cup. Don’t sell a piece of you that you need for yourself. When it stops feeling good, listen. Listen. Once you forget who you thought you were supposed to be, you make room for who you actually are.

Friends. Now is the time where my sappy little heart is going to cry and bleed all over the floor. As my career pillar has continued to shrink, my friendship pillar grows exponentially. Friendship is one of the greatest gifts we get to experience in this life. I have made it down a long and winding road thanks to the hands (and paws) that held mine during hard times. Friendships are fragile things, and if you don’t cherish them with humility, they can disappear. 

In my 30th year of life, I know better than I did when I was younger. I made some mistakes along the way… hurt people, made people I love feel rejected, criticized or unsupported. If you think too hard about how someone else ought to be living their life, then it’s time to take a sober look at your own. My ego was bigger than me a decade ago. My ego told me people weren’t worthy of having me in their life if they weren’t perfect and impeccable and pure with their actions and words. HA. Joke was on me – I see in hindsight that perfect humans don’t exist (that’s part of the MO), and if they do, it isn’t a very real or relatable or likable trait. I am lucky enough that the friends I have hurt have offered their loving forgiveness. The best kind of friends are the ones who wait patiently for you to humble yourself. My friendships have held me up over the years. They have helped rebuild me at times. But there is one caveat…

Your friendships will only meet you as deeply as you can meet yourself. Friendships can remain on the shallow surface, or you can deep dive the ocean floor together. Your relationships become strong when you share your vulnerabilities – when you risk being rejected, when you open yourself so completely that you feel naked. That is where real friendship is. I have also found the deeper you let yourself go, as long as you have a good diving buddy, you can always resurface. And you will feel more whole when you take your first breath above water. 

To all the friends that have held my hand over the years, thank you. To all of the friends I rejected their hand when it reached for me, I am so incredibly, deeply sorry. To all of the friends who helped me rebuild during the dark days, I am forever indebted to you. Thank you for reminding me of who I am when I forget. Thank you for showing me a different kind of love, for it is so, so needed.

My advice: find quality people when you are young, and if you are lucky enough, they will stick with you through a lifetime. Be humble, be kind, friendships are fragile if you squeeze them too tightly. Ask for forgiveness when you are ready, offer forgiveness when you are ready. Never assume you know what is best for another human being, for you will always be wrong, and therefore make an ass out of yourself. If you find yourself judging another’s life, ask yourself why it is a problem for you, then take a better look at that. Hold as many people’s hands on this life journey as you possibly can – it makes our humanness better, stronger, and more empathetic. Check in on your friends from college, from middle school, from kindergarten. Rekindle relationships you thought were far in the past. Give without expecting in return. Open, open, open. Hug them every chance you get, and not one of those shit hugs – one of the good ones that make you want to stay a moment or ten longer. Don’t be ashamed to love. Love your friends abundantly. Love your friends’ children abundantly. Tell them you love them. Dive deep when you have found your diving buddy. 

Family. Ah, the words are swirling and swimming around my brain. I think this is one of the greatest pillars in all our lives – the definition of family simply evolves over time. This is one area of my life that has been a focus over the past year. 

For context, I grew up in a warm, old house. The fire is always blazing, sometimes even on summer mornings. I don’t think it is my story, and my story alone to share. So I will only reveal the gist – I grew up in an unconventional dynamic, I understand mental illness, and I understand core relationships that were never given a chance to develop. I suffered a lot through different times of my life – I took hour long depression baths before high school every morning. I would play the same CD on repeat in my waterproof radio, procrastinating the dread of putting on a smile, a mask of makeup, and pretending I was a happy girl. Smiley Kylie, if you think you knew her, you really had no idea. Above all else, even if I felt like an alien that did not belong on this planet, I still felt loved by my family. It showed itself in unconventional ways – it wasn’t “I love you” in so few words, it was, “have you had something to eat?” 

“Do you want to watch a movie together?” 

“Will you help me in the garden?” 

“Do you want to bake a pie?” 

“You can sleep beside my bed.” 

“Drive safe.”

This is where my true self was born. It was from feeling loved at my core, despite experiencing severely uncomfortable situations. I think that is where I was alchemized by fire – the alternative option of stagnation and acceptance was simply not on my table. I learned to make it better for myself; I learned to change how I related to it all. I learned who I was in the process. She likes to make it better, whatever it is. She does her part to be open and honest with people she loves, even if it is hard. And she has healed the roots of her tree – no root rot, no planter box. There is no limit to how deeply rooted I can be. 

Family is not just representative of where you come from, but also where you are going. Literal roots of a tree that continue to grow outward, making branches that jut out in all different directions, and little leaves that bud and bloom. One of my favorite parts of family is watching it flourish. Thanks to all my nieces and nephews, I know our tree is growing toward the sun. They are so wholesome, so pure, and I just want to tend the soil. I want to be the aunt that says, “do you want to bake a pie?” and “I love you.” 

My advice: family is one of the pieces of life with the most variability. As years continue, the dynamic certainly changes, but it can do so for the better if you do your part. Be a participant in your family, not just an observer. Love every one of them, in all phases and stages, unless they cause you harm to your mind, body or spirit. Give bear hugs. Tell them you love them with your words and your actions. Be honest, speak your truth, and do your best to make it better. Don’t kid yourself into believing you aren’t a catalyst for change. Don’t hold onto relationships that can’t reciprocate the same respect and unconditional love. Heal when you are ready. Grow your own branches and leaves when it feels right.

Health. I think this is the pillar I have avoided talking about most. Probably because I have the most to learn here. I focused first on getting my brain and mindset healthy. My spiritual health has grown alongside me from the start. But body health – yeesh. Eating well, moving well, and doing it consistently is a daily battle. I guess you can’t have it all figured out by 30, but maybe by 31 (this is a joke, I know I will never have it all figured out). 

My advice: run before you forget how to. Breathe deeply every single chance you get. Listen to when your body says stop. And when it says go. Slow down, there is no destination. Sing, even if you think you are terrible, it calms your nervous system. Drink honeyed tea, it soothes the soul. Dance the pain away. Cook with the seasons, and do it with love (it tastes better that way). Thank your food when you prepare it, before you eat, and when you’re all done. Don’t wait for sunny days to go for walks; walking in the rain makes you more resilient. Listen to your body, you only get one, it should be cherished, not shamed. Drink more water than coffee in a day. Find a yoga mat and get to know it (I am still working on that one).

Marriage. I feel as though this is the pillar I have the least experience with, but maybe the most to say. Considering I have had a business that revolves around marriages, as well as experiencing 5 years of my own, I think I have gathered enough thoughts to share. First and foremost, wedding culture is so far out of touch from what a wedding is actually all about – getting married. Getting married is the easy part. Being one half of a marriage is where you get to know truth. I think I have a pretty radical perspective of marriage. Because I would say that even failed marriages are successful, provided you allow your marriage to transform you in some way. 

How I relate to my marriage is how I relate to myself. How can I be more gentle, more loving, less fearful, more kind, less rigid, more compassionate, less egoic, more empathetic, less judgemental, more communicative, less self-centered, more us-centered, more honest, more real, more open, more open, more open. 

Similarly to friendships, you can only reach the depths of your own vulnerabilities in a marriage. Marriage is my greatest catalyst for change. Marriage is the lighthouse that shines on all the dark places that need a little more love. And marriage is a mirror of my own thoughts, feelings and actions, reflected back at me. The more you understand this truth, the more you can alchemize pain into beauty. Marriage is a magnifying glass on all the pieces of me that feel jagged and sharp, and with Luis, they go through a rock tumbler until the edges are smoothed out like river rocks. I feel like marriage is truth because there is no other relationship that you tie yourself to in the same way. It is a commitment to softening yourself with someone who says, “I see why you are the way you are. We don’t have to change it, but when you’re ready, I am ready too.” 

It was never about happiness. Marriage and happiness ebb and flow, they meet and they part. But what doesn’t go away is the fact you have another human being to witness your life experience in entirety, and you lovingly do the same for them. It is literal affirmation that your life is seen, witnessed, and it matters. Ideally, you pick a really good one, and they imprint a new way on your heart. They show you a kind of love you never knew was possible, and because of them, everything is new again. 

Committing to a marriage is more than tying your life to another. It is committing to the never ending act of becoming a better human. It is dedicating your life to dusting off the skeletons you shoved into the corner of your closet, that you almost forgot existed. Marriage reveals to you all your broken bits, the pieces that you lost along your journey. It is offering pieces of yourself to the one you love, because maybe they need them more than you do. We swap pieces, we turn them in different directions, flip them over, again and again, until we form one whole puzzle. 

This is an academy you never graduate from. There is always more being revealed along the way. Lessons you thought you learned once will circle around again, offering layers of depth you didn’t see the first time around. 

Without Luis, I can confidently say I would not know this version of myself. I never expected the evolution I said yes to, but I would undoubtedly say yes again. I love all parts of the journey, but this one particular relationship is my favorite. I think, in part, because it is not isolated to a marriage. Along the way, he became my best friend, and he also became my family. My greatest moments of joy, pride, accomplishment have been alongside him. My hardest days, crying on the floor, were also beside him. My greatest adventures, we have explored together. My mundane days have been ours to share. My marriage affirms, day in and day out, that I matter, and my life experience will be witnessed by another. It will not go unnoticed.

He is my guiding light. When you know that kind of light, you will do anything to have it forever, including putting a ring on your finger. 

My advice: learn to say sorry. Learn to accept an apology and say it out loud. Do not say yes to a ring if you think it means guaranteed happiness; never build a marriage on such a fleeting emotion. Say yes to the whole picture, the whole experience, it is here to change you for the better. Build a puzzle with someone who you want to share pieces with. Do not get married if you don’t wish to alchemize your pain with another human. Don’t get married if you are unwilling to work on yourself consistently and consciously. Learn to communicate, wholly, calmly, and completely. Never forget the love that started it all. Your marriage can be a source of personal evolution, for you and your partner, and the family you create. Tell them you love them in a million different ways, and never stop searching for new words to say it.

Advice on picking the right human to share a marriage: your body knows before your brain does. Find the person that makes your entire being feel at home. 

Gratitude. There is nothing so simple that makes such a large difference. For most of my life, I have focused on things that could go wrong. I was on the lookout for warning signs, and I always planned for the worst. That kind of mindset can really mess you up. Wishing the past looked different than it did, wishing you had done something different, and therefore denying the validity and value of the experience you are currently in. A tried and true recipe for anxiety, depression, and a general fear of life.

I think there is a place you meet on the journey from ungratefulness to gratitude, and there is a nice landing point between them that I consider presence. Where you are aware of everything going on, but it loses its label of good or bad in your life. You just acknowledge everything in your experience, and don’t try to change it. After you understand that level of consciousness, you can graduate to experiencing gratitude for all facets of life, again without a label of good or bad. 

I know now that my gratitude for all situations is a form of radical acceptance for life. It is a neon flashing sign that says show me all you’ve got, I am no longer scared of you. When you’re in that space, you are as close to invincible as it gets. You can turn it all into gold. It all happens for you, not to you. Adopt that perspective and you will start to see your life in a new light. Gratitude can be directed at or toward anything – to nature, to people, to god, to the shoes on your feet, or even the fact you have feet at all. We are blessed with a human mind, direct it to places of light and hope, and it will begin to feel lighter and more hopeful – that is where you make space for the universe to work though you instead of against you.

My advice: say thank you all the time. To the entire experience, say yes. It feels radically weird to lose your preference for how life goes, but it can also feel like the sun hitting your back in the middle of January. Enchanting, addictive, and so mind-blowingly simple. Express your joy for being a living human, here at this exact time and place, and the universe will say thank you for the acknowledgement. It will give you another beautiful thing to be grateful for, even if it is just watching two ducks flying off into the sunset. I find myself saying out loud to the world, “you’re really beautiful, aren’t you?” and then I notice. Start noticing, and always say thank you (even if it is just expressed with your thoughts). Noticing eventually starts to feel a lot like remembering.

I have covered all the pillars of my life, except one. And really, this pillar revealed itself before all the others when I asked the question, “why am I here?” 

And my final answer for you, is love. Love is love. Love it or hate it, that is your choice. You can allow love to open you up, bursting at your very seams. Or you can build up your walls and shy away from it; naturally I find those who shy away are the ones who have a problem with this saying from the start. If you can’t feel love for every creature (all genders, beliefs, religions, and colors included), then you yourself have not yet opened up to the universal kind of love I am talking about. Love is pure admiration for all life has to offer; our boundaries and limits of who we think of ourselves to be is in fact not that separate at all. Once you let that kind of love in, it is hard to kick it out (and why would you want to?).

It is a universal language. You cannot pick and choose which kind of love you want to experience. You cannot choose to learn only a handful of the words in this language. You must get to know it in its entirety.

True love only finds you when you love every single one of its forms. When you can love the ground below you and the sky above you, and every bit that makes up the in between. I will forever view myself as a student in this complexly simple phenomenon. I do, at my core, believe this is what it is all about. Love is what ties all of the other pillars together, it is the only constant. It is all part of the fabric. You are a thread and I am a thread, and maybe we go off in different directions, but we intersect at some point. Some threads we run parallel to, but we are all woven into the same piece. We all make the fabric stronger than a single thread could ever hope to be.

My advice: don’t pull at a string if you aren’t willing to let the whole piece unravel with it, your own string included. Make space for the universal sound to reverberate through you; when you act from a place free of self-interest, that is universal, unconditional love. Love as much as you can, and constantly expand your limits and boundaries on who (or what) you share that love with. Love is one resource that cannot run dry, it only compounds. Love it all. All your anxieties and worries and doubts – love them – they are trying to protect you. All your pain and your past – love it – it has shaped you; the places you have been hurt are the places in which you can heal the world, even just a little. Love as much as you can, in as many different ways you can conceive. Your ability to love your neighbor is directly correlated to how deeply you love yourself. Soften the idea of who you believe yourself to be, and see it from a bird’s eye view. Where do you fit into the universal puzzle? What are you adding to the fabric of the world in the short time you have? Are you making it a better place to meet your own desires? Or are you making it better for your children, and your pets, and your planet, and even for your “enemies”? 

Now that is true love. 

If you made it this far, thanks for valuing the insights I have spent the last 30 years collecting. In my 31st year, I hope to love freely, fiercely, abundantly, because I truly believe that is the only dance there is.

(Title reference to The Only Dance There Is by Ram Dass)