ON this very moment.

I think it's sort of hilarious that I sneak over to this blog to write things down that are sitting in my heart. I understand branding and the business of being a business just a little too well and so I never want to cross those lines on the mustard seed co blog. I like to keep that shiny and polished and brand-centric (you know, that is, when I actually write over there).

But this little space is so safe. Anyone who still reads it knows that I pour out my heart here, that I'm honest almost to a fault. And may I also say I think it's hilarious how many readers I still have? I can see those stats, you guys, and it blows my mind that people continue to come here to read. Thus furthering my point about authenticity - when we just are who we are, people want more. When we present something that makes sense and flows really well and we look great on, it can be give or take. I've always thought that this blog would be the one to "take off", if you will, if I ever actually was consistent. Because being our true selves is, like, the freaking jam. It's where success lives. (Hey can someone remind me of this sometime? When I'm forgetting it? Great, thanks in advance.)

Every time I get back to my apartment from being home in NJ, I have to take a couple of days to shake back into my routine and life here. And every time I get back, I try to remind myself to be gentle with the transition. "Try" being the keyword. Coming back to the city means being slammed with the reminders that I have no idea where I will be living in a couple of months, and I mean that in regards to city, state, and apartment, including my current one. I'm slammed with the reminder of what I want and how far I often feel I'm from it (and how close). I'm slammed with the reminder of the people and animals who need help, who need others, with so many sitting on the ground around me. I'm slammed directly in all of my senses with all of the awesome and scary and loud and exciting things that make New York City what it is. I'm hit dead on with where I want to be, where I am, what I'm working toward, what I'm running from. And, of course, I'm kicked in the gut and in my heart with the missing human in my life. Still. Daily. Every blessed moment.

Re-reading all of that now it's easy for me to think "well of course all of that at once can make a girl a little wonky for a day or two". But in the moments of living it, I just want to be past it. I want to know the future, I want a clear freaking answer on if I should move and if that's down the street or across the country. I want guidance and a big giant sign that says I'll be fine financially, emotionally, physically, and in so many other ways.

But that giant sign is faith, right? That's what we do, right? We keep taking these steps forward despite the fact that we are wobbling around in darkness, completely unsure of what's in front of us, with feet and legs that can't seem to remember how to move, and a pounding heart. We keep going. And the difference here is that many just stop. They feel the power of fear and they just stop. Even if they are urged to move for the rest of their life, they won't. They stay frozen and cave to fear. But we get to choose faith. We get to say that it is bigger than that paralyzing fear. And so there I am again, on my knees, face pointed upward, sobbing and talking and asking and praying and wanting and trusting.

And while it doesn't sound so fun, or feel so good in the moment, it is the only thing keeping me moving forward. And that is some powerful shit. The days I cross my arms and stomp my feet and say no to God and no to praying and no to trusting are so much worse than any handful of minutes spent crying on my floor. The times I spend thrusting a hand over my eyes and refusing to look at God and demanding that I know best are so much freaking worse than the terrifying moments of taking a tiny step forward when I feel God call me to move. It is so much worse when I pretend that I'm in charge. I'm not in charge, and neither are you. It's all Him. I grant that this sounds insane and ridiculous and terrifying but damn if it isn't true. It's insane how insane it is, because it is TRUE. And terrifying. And glorious.

The other day, I was walking behind a family in central park. People not from New York tend to walk in a straight line so they can, like, actually see and hear each other (what is that about?) and so I literally was forced to walk behind them as I caught my breath from the run I'd just had. In between my wheezing, I heard one of them say something about how he didn't understand why people run. Another cracked a joke about New Yorkers needing to run so they can run away from their crazy lives. And I thought to myself how that's not it at all. How it's the opposite. That we are running, full steam ahead, with everything we've got, toward our lives. We are the brave ones running head on toward it. We are running toward the amazing things that are on their way. We are running with each tiny, terrifying step.

I don't have any answers still. I'm like a one-woman detective team with my quest for "signs" - a certain song will play and I'm convinced it means to move somewhere, I'll see a certain word and I'm convinced it means to make that call, and so on. I honestly have no idea what's coming next and God is drilling that so hard into my brain you'd think I would freaking accept it by now. Sometimes I think He's like "hey Kerry, I'm running out of ideas here on how to get you to see that you cannot control your life or know what's happening next. Can you do me a solid and just surrender to it? Cool, thanks!" But even with absolutely no answers, and even with all this pain and fear and wondering and growth, I have this faith. And He calls me to take a step. And to take another. And if I'm lucky, I do it. Slowly, steadily. Step.

And step. And step. And step. And step.

on LAYLA JUNE IS DEFINITELY MINE

The captions for these photos are too easy. Just too easy. It would go a little something like this:
top photo: Henry: "Hi mommy! Hi mom, hi mom, hi mommy, I love you, hi mommy, pose!"
                 Layla: "You take out camera? You no ask permission? Bug NOT prepared.."
bottom photo: Layla (continuted) "..and now? I judge you."

This little girl just kills me dead. She drives me batshit crazy, I think that's important to note. We still haven't gotten the hang of correct behavior quite yet. For example, I'll hear a little ladybug jingle as she's running around somewhere she shouldn't be, and find her just as she's tearing through yet another garbage can, or pooping somewhere she shouldn't be. My girl loves to poop, plain and simple, and she'd prefer to do so on your wall, thank you very much. The legs of your furniture, the bottom part of your bedspread that's close enough to the ground to reach, those will do, too. When she hears me coming before I catch her, she zips past me, head turned the other way, eyes straight ahead, NOTHING TO SEE HERE, okay mom? She is whip smart. And a tiny devil.

But she is a mush. A lovey. A sweet little girl, who wants nothing but to be held and loved and relax in the knowledge that she is safe. She climbs up into my lap, resting her head against my chest, and looks up at me with so much love that I think I might burst. She gets yelled at all the time. I mean, all. the. time. And I find myself talking to her at night, realizing just how many times she'd been yelled at that day, telling her she's a good girl, as she nuzzles into my arms to fall asleep, laying just so that she's certain I can't leave her.

I wrote before about how similar we are (I mean, except for the pooping everywhere and eating garbage thing) but the longer we've been together, the more and more I see how very true it is. We even make the same little sighs and noises as we go through our day (no, but seriously, we do). We're both firecrackers, troublemakers, wily, free-spirited little girls. We just get that about each other. Determined to a point of recklessness. Seeking fun at all costs. More love than we know what to do with. Empathetic, but quick tempered. Fiery. Tough exterior, soft interior. And we both hop quite a lot. I remember when he looked at me, and then at her, and back to me, before smiling, "you two are so alike". I smiled, but didn't totally get it. No, I thought, it's Henry who is like me. And he is, my boy, my heart. But it seems as though my second kid has got just as many similarities, albeit different ones.

The other day, she bounced off the couch and started to play, as though this was an every day occurrence. She had never once played before (despite endless attempts). She understood fetch and tug-of-war and using her paws. She got in play position, and then...she started to play with Henry. Who has never successfully played with another dog. (You guys know I was crying by this point, right?) And then - her teeth came out, a sharp no! from me, and she was back on the couch, hiding, unsure. But the next day, she tried again, and again the next day, and now she plays. She had been watching Henry and I play all along. She had heard me explain and teach her. She just needed to do things in her own time.

After all, she is her momma's dogter.

ON that time I saw myself in a dog & other life lessons

[EDIT: I wrote this several weeks ago but just found it saved in my drafts folder. It still felt important enough to post, but I like to keep you in the loop, time-wise, here on le blog.]

//

"Last night, I picked a fight with him for literally no reason", I said, recounting the evening before when I had been acting completely ridiculous for no reason, throwing a fit, causing a commotion.

He laughed in the kind of way that told me he's been there before,"What? That poor guy. Why'd you do that?"

"I don't know! I guess, and I literally hate when girls say this, but he's just so nice. It's confusing, like I can't handle someone being so sweet to me. I've felt terrible all day, like a guilt hangover."

"Seriously? I hate when girls do that, too. I've had girls do that to me, saying I'm too nice. What the fuck is that about? You want us to be mean to you? I don't think so. And it's crazy that you know you did it, too, owning up to it."

"Yep. I don't know, hopefully he'll forgive me."
__

When I got back to the apartment, I saw she had done it again, this time tearing down the entire curtain rod. A massive feat for such a little thing, but I know it to be true that it's the little ones who can get the angriest. Most people would yell, push her face in it. But all I can see is a terrified pup, who thinks that every time she's left alone, no one will come back for her. I see a little girl who digs her nails into my legs while she sleeps, or pushes her back up against mine, for fear of me sneaking away while her eyes are shut, leaving her. I see all the time she spent as a stray, and the sheer terror on her face every time I place her into the pen at the adoption events:

"Don't leave me, don't leave me."

It's all I can do not to just pick her up and hold her. I do my best to ignore her as I clean everything up, writing a note to explain it to him, telling him I've already talked to the super, I'll handle it. Too chicken to call.
__

"I'm so proud of you, I don't think I've heard you this happy in... ever. I don't think I've ever heard you this happy." Her voice comes through the line, a mere 3,000 miles in between us.

"That's because I've never been this happy."

The other one, right after her, my sitting-in-traffic phone call go-to's, says similar things but brings him up, too.

"It's so nice to hear you this happy in your life. You deserve someone who says you look beautiful. You deserve someone who gets in touch all the time, someone who listens to you and remembers everything you say. You deserve someone bringing you flowers. These are good things. It's just been so long since it's been like that, you forgot."

"It's not that I forgot, I just never had it. I never let myself."
__

She's running in circles from one side of the bed to the other, her eyes bugging out, howling and whimpering and acting completely ridiculously for no reason. She is throwing a fit, causing a commotion just to be noticed, to be heard.

She's acting out just to be reassured that she's wanted here.

It's too early, and we still want to be asleep, it's annoying. Confusing, too. Everything was totally peaceful, why are you being like this? You tell her to lay down, stop, she's fine. But he doesn't yell. He reaches down with one hand and gently scoops her up on the bed and into his arms. She settles immediately as he soothes her, she just needed to be held for a little bit. Recognizing the fact that she's safe here, that she's wanted here, a smile appears on her face. You look over to him just as a smile spreads across his lips, eyes fixed on the little pup laying on his stomach. You ask him if he sees her smile, and his eyes light up, his smile grows bigger as he confirms it. Sort of like a kid who was convinced Santa couldn't exist except he just heard reindeer on his roof - except, that's impossible, isn't it? There's no way a dog could be smiling.. except that there she is, in his arms, smiling. He changes your life so much that you're happy to have given him this little gift, introducing something new to him for once.

You don't understand your own behavior yet so you can't explain it now. It'll hit you later on as you're driving, a giant revelation, some clarity finally entering in. It's the same reason why all of the four-legged ones take to you so quickly and why you love them so; you recognize this piece of each other, this fear. Oh, you too? Okay, I got your back, don't worry.

It's almost worse, now that you're happy, actually happy, when this last little demon pops up. Before, when you were so sad, it felt normal. Now it's shocking, startling that you can still get this insecure, this fearful, this mean to yourself and the people you care most about. It's nice that you can recognize what happened afterward, but you're excited to get to the day when you see it coming and cut it off before it rears it's ugly head. She's acting out just to be reassured she's wanted here.

He puts his other arm around you and you settle immediately as he soothes you, you just needed to be held a little bit. Recognizing the fact that you're safe here, that you're wanted here, a smile appears on your face.

ON being enough

I've been circling around this theme for awhile now. Multiple conversations this week have addressed it. And all of these endless resolutions being made left and right. New Year resolutions make me nervous. A time when people look at themselves and proclaim what needs 'improvement'. What they can better about themselves, how they can fix something. Oof. Scary.

Here's the thing, and this is super important so if you only read one sentence on my blog today,

let it be this one: You are already enough.

You are already enough.

You do not need to organize a perfect planner to be enough.

You do not need to DIY your entire home to be enough.

You do not need to make one new recipe per week to be enough.

You do not need that job promotion to be enough.

You do not need your boyfriend to propose to be enough.

You do not need to plan that 'perfect' wedding to be enough.

You do not need to always have a smile on your face to be enough.

You don't need to lose five, twenty, fifty pounds to be enough.

And you really don't need to tick every single goal or item off your to-do list to be enough.

It seems to me that productivity is a real sneaky one to watch out for. Feeling productive. Thinking over everything you did for the day and judging yourself off of that. Your to-do list does not equate your self worth. If you got nothing "done" all day, you still accomplished great feats.

I can hear you list makers yelling 'noo, I need my lists!'. Fear not. I'm with you. I love me a good crossing off of the list. So I have compiled you a new list to use daily as your got-this-done list:

Waking up alive, existing as a human being.

Having a heart that beats and functions properly.

Having lungs that allow air in and out of your body.

Blinking multiple times in just one day.

Feet that keep you upright, legs, arms, hands, fingers and toes that work.

Having thoughts, daydreams, and imaginations.

Eating. (Bonus: you can write this a few times so each one gets to be crossed off!)

Having a loving and generous heart, a soul of your own, and a mind to use.

Giving and receiving Love.

LOOK HOW MUCH YOU'VE ALREADY DONE TODAY! And that's just for starters. Sometimes I get crazy and throw things in like stretching, sneezing, or yawning. Jokes aside, these things are worthy of celebrations. They are precious gifts. In one day's time we achieve miraculous things but wind up annoyed that we didn't make it to the bank or the post office. You are not your paycheck, you are not your promotion, you are not the karats in your ring, you are not your facebook stats.

Here's the coolest part about accepting all of this: when we see how very much enough we are right now, and fill ourselves up on that, it can't help but overflow and pour out to the ones around us. This inner light of acceptance of ourselves. When I started this whole journey of seeking and growth, it was pretty selfish. I thought it would help revive me, understand me, and get me what I wanted. But one of the many endless gifts I've received has been the joy in seeing the affect and change it has on my loved ones. The more I lean into the truth that I'm enough, that I'm worthy, they also see it about themselves. I think it's pretty common for women to be motivated to put others before themselves. That caregiver trait is loud and strong. So put all of this in the context that when you accept that you're enough and your thoughts, words and actions reflect that, you are taking care of the people around you. Pretty motivating, no?

Let's be honest: I am more than guilty of this, too. I have a strange lifestyle where there are times when I won't "accomplish" much of anything all day. I don't have an office to go to where other people may pay me a compliment or provide external validation or, you know, conversation. Plus, as I said before, I seriously love a good list and can get wrapped up in it. However, I know the signs well enough to stop, pay attention to my thoughts and feelings and remedy the situation. When I hear friends judging themselves so harshly, my heart aches for them. Because I'm me, and they are them, I can say all of this to them. They laugh but they hear me. But I want to say it to you, too. The person reading this.

You are enough. Your worth and value are not determined by outside sources. You matter.

On Fueling Up

Lately, I've been refueling. See, sometimes I stop taking care of myself, in order to put others first.

Since everybody is different, that may work for some people. However, for me, I know I can't actually be of any use to anyone else if I am not taking care of myself first. I can't be a good friend, pup-parent, human, lover, giver, or healer if I'm not one with myself. So when I realize I've been slacking, I fuel up. 

This means..

fresh flowers in my home

cleaning my living space

paying attention to what i'm eating (or not eating)

taking time to let my body rest

writing, writing, writing

listening to myself and then following through

dance parties (this is key, friends)

meditation, twice a day, every day

checking in with my life goals, setting 5 small ones for the week

not picking up my phone or responding to texts if i'm not truly available for the person

saying 'no' to invitations, social events, get-togethers, etc

wearing a tiara while at home (try it)

only reading books, listening to music, and watching shows that motivate me

cooking (instead of picking food up all the time)

lots of yogi tea in my favorite mugs

stretching

keeping an eye on what i think/say about myself

following my bliss (go get that latte, smile at strangers, sing at full volume)

creating art, painting, writing new songs, crafting, etc

loving myself extra

and the cool thing is when i realize i'm taking care of myself, i see these things in action. i'll literally have no idea where my phone is for the whole day, i'll be cooking up a storm, dancing around my house with that tiara on my head, laughing loudly and doing exactly what i want to do without worrying about anyone else.. and then i can go back to serving the world, fueled up and ready for life.

how do you take care of yourself?

xo

p.s. apparently, it is april 6th here in my house.. those tear off calendars always get me..

On The Past 24 Hours

We had just met last night but when I saw him walk into Starbucks, I went up to say hello and re-introduce myself. He cut me off, hugging me and telling me of course he knew who I was.

"Kerry, you're really talented. I mean it, you are a really good actor."

I thanked him despite my instinctive desire to disagree and we went on to chat for awhile. This man whom I really admire, not only in the business, but also as a human, talking to me about my career and my life with so much passion and heart. My eyes were wide in awe the whole time.

"You've got to listen to yourself. You have to. What's the worst that could happen?" He smiled, and with a flourish, was off.
__

Wrapped up in his arms, we talked about the debate I had missed, what we think will happen with the election, the comments we've each been reading (me: facebook statuses, him: news articles). Something so ordinary - conversations like this are happening all over the country - and yet, I found myself overcome with a flood of Love for this simple moment, and so grateful to end the day with my favorite human. I leaned over to kiss him and we settled into sleep.
__

She pointed to me.

"Kerry, right? Kerry, you're really sassy and quirky and just so interesting to watch. I just want to listen to you."

And there, from a perfect stranger, my answer over the endless headshot dilemma became very clear. Quirky, of course. Sassy, of course. Isn't that what everyone says? A clarifying moment of my own truth, from someone I literally may never see again.
__

We had been on the phone for nearly an hour.

"I feel like I was doing so great and now it's like I took a bunch of steps backward."

I was with her at first, agreeing that I felt the same way, what had happened to our vigor and enthusiastic pursuit? Where had it gone? And then - no, wait, hold on - I cut her off:

"Oh my god, no! No. You haven't taken any steps backward. You're always moving forward. Even when it feels otherwise, even when you can't yet see why you're at where you're at. Like, I can't tell you when I'm going to be famous, but I know it will happen and so I know everything along the way is getting me there. Even when I feel like I'm so far from it. It's not up to us to understand how we are getting there - just that we're on our way. Maybe this is leading you directly back to it. Maybe it's sending you on another path. But either way, you're moving forward. I am, too."

One of my favorite mirrors, one of my favorite people, she always helps me see myself. And vice versa.
__

"So now.. is that Clifford the Big Red Dog that I'm seeing in your bag?"

His face turned into a giant grin, his body twisted around like a toddler, gleefully explaining why he had something Clifford related. And for the second time in less than a day, I was startled by how the Love I have for him just continues to grow.
__

The phone rang. My agents asking if I could come in right away. As I agreed, I said a silent prayer of thanks for all of the free time that I spent most of last week hating. Reminding myself that a delay is not a denial, and that there are so many wonderful things waiting for us if we stay open. That in the time of one day, I can find myself amused, adored, delighted, brave, honest, busy, lazy, Loved, present, and learning.

On Saying No (To Say Yes)

I was annoyed. The group of kids were screaming, the guy next to me kept accidentally elbowing me in my side as he attempted to change positions 47 times a minute. By the time I got there, I was just about scowling and really confused as to how I got so angry out of nowhere. After arriving and sitting for over an hour, my stomach was doing flip flops. So now, in addition to being angry, I felt loopy and just totally out of it.. yet could not place what was going on. In fact, it took almost another hour before my answer became very clear.

She took one look at my face and asked if I wanted to be there. The first answer came out as a weak, soft sounding 'yes, of course'. And then, moments later, I heard myself saying no. And laughing. And standing up, heading to the door. Luckily, she was really kindhearted and we chatted for a few minutes before I left, where she told me I was right to know the kind of work I was meant for.

You see, a few days ago, I got a call to do some extra work for a big movie filming here in NYC. Sounds fancy, and I had the days free, so I said yes, despite an earlier promise I had made to myself to never do extra work (after doing it once). The reason I had been so annoyed, so angry, so upset was because I was going against myself. I wasn't listening to myself and when my mind can't get through to me, my physical body starts to try. This usually means I get really angry and/or feel really out of it. For other people I know, it can mean having an upset stomach, getting dizzy or exhausted. Everyone has a different reaction to when they're not giving themselves what they need. Literally the second I told her I didn't want to do extra work (I believe I threw in a "not now nor ever!" for enthusiasm) my entire body relaxed and I felt fine, even burst out laughing. I'm pretty sure she thought I was insane at this point, but that's okay.

Here's the whole point of this story: we have to say NO to some things so we can say YES to others.
Want further proof? As soon as I got home, I got a call that I booked a PSA, which I'll be filming tomorrow. The next morning I got another call that I booked a music video that films next week.
I had to say no to doing the type of work that I do not want to do, and honor myself and my goals, in order to make space for other jobs that I want to do! This may sound bananas to you, and that's okay, but I find it to be the truth every time.

Learn how to say no, practice it often. This isn't to say you should be selfish or hurtful to others. Just say no to the things you don't want, so the things you do want are able to find their way into your life. It's okay to skip dinner with the girls if you really want to finish writing another chapter of your novel. It's okay to say no to joining yet another volunteer organization or being in charge of another fundraiser; this does not make you a bad person. It's even okay to say no to a date if you've been really looking forward to having a night at home, just for yourself. Listen to yourself, figure out what you want, act accordingly. And if you need someone to back it up or support you in your choice, you've already got me on your side.

On Lightbulb Moments

Here is a most interesting little truth that I stumbled onto this morning:

If YOU tell me I can't do something, that it is impossible, that it will never happen, that I'm being 'unrealistic' ... I will absofuckinglutely do it. I will accomplish it, I will prove you wrong. 

And I will be enraged that you would ever have the nerve to doubt me.

It's that "I'll show them" mentality. Motivating yet dangerous.

It I tell me I can't do something, that it is impossible, that it will never happen, that I'm being 'unrealistic' ... I will believe it. I will slow down. I will give up, I will prove myself right. 

And I will be mopey, wondering why I can't get what I want.

It's that "being afraid of getting what you want" mentality. Just plain ol' dangerous.

Here's an even more interesting little truth: 

I am the only person in my life who says that 'I can't'. The only person.
Sure, there are people who say things like 'realistically' and 'that's being a grown up' but that just makes me giggle a bunch and see the limitations they have put on themselves.
But otherwise, there ain't no one in kerry-land who tells me I can't do/be certain things.

So, I guess it's either time to find a bunch of people to tell me I can't do what I want,

or.. perhaps it's time to just start telling myself I can.

What about you? How do you hold yourself back?

Are you motivated by what other people think about you?

Do you tune it all out? Let me know below.

On The Sweetest Words

This has been singing through my mind like my new favorite song all week.

The person who sent this is busy. I mean, BUSY. And 3,000 miles away.

And one of those people who I look up to in so many ways, someone I admire.

And it was so unexpected, it nearly knocked me over.

Sometimes, the people in my life will say something like this. Startling me.

Causing me to stop and focus and remember that I am more than how I see myself.

That I am more than my insecurities, more than my self-doubts, more than the messy ponytail and t-shirt.

These people are the mirrors in our lives, reflecting back to us who we are, how we are.

They're the people that see us - I mean, really see us - clearly, helping us to see ourselves, too.

And I sure am grateful for them.

xo

On Company In Bed

Current reads: The Happiness Project [Gretchen Rubin]; 

The Best Advice I Ever Got [Katie Couric];

and The Gifts of Imperfection [Brene Brown]

I do believe we have a theme here. What can I say, I really like self growth :)

Though, come to think of it, what I think I like best is reading the stories of other people's lives.

I love reading about challenges that other people went through, because it reminds me that mine are not unique. Successes, growth, lessons.. all are shared experiences.

Plus, the human mind fascinates me to no end :)

What are you reading?

On Surprises

The way you surprise yourself is interesting now. It's in the way confrontation is no longer dreaded, no mulling it all over, no dragging it out in your mind or putting it off. Just words, simple and easy with no judgement or blame. It's in the way you say exactly what you need to, clearly and honestly. It's in the way you don't leave room for discussion; a firmness you didn't realize you possessed.

There is a burst of laughter that lives in the deepest part of your gut that announces itself when you realize you're doing so many of the things you always wanted to be doing. Another one follows it with the knowledge that you aren't so afraid of all of the other things you plan to, and will, do. You didn't know you had this laugh, you didn't know you could do these things.

It's in the way you don't start or end every other sentence with "sorry" as though something as simple as asking for soy milk is the equivalent of throwing a fit in public. "Sorry, can you tell me where the restroom is?" "Would it be possible to not have cheese on that? Sorry..". It is even more so in the way you stop others from doing it. There is no need to constantly apologize for living, you say. It catches you off guard, the way you encourage others, how you've become the friend everyone confides in, the advice giver. The way you hear "I needed to hear what you had to say about it". It stops you dead in your tracks as you hear yourself speaking your mind, being yourself, instead of twisting and fitting into whatever mold worked for each moment.

It's seen in the way you speak up for animals, the way they seem to be filling up so much of your time. The way you're almost (almost) embarrassed at how you're literally unable to stop glaring and shaking your head at the tourists in the horse-drawn carriages/animal cruelty mobiles. The way you donate money to a political campaign. The fact that you have strong political opinions and feelings toward legislation and rights. The fact that you just used legislation in a sentence. The way you checked online obsessively one recent Tuesday night to see the results of a vote in a city you don't live in because the issue matters to you. The fact that issues matter to you. These are shocking things.

The way you surprise yourself sits in the piles of paper you automatically sort into their respective envelopes so you don't have to deal with them come next April, when you will excitedly do your taxes. It lives in the shine of the bathroom you just scrubbed and the vacuum cleaner that brings you actual joy and the total shock of how much you love cleaning. It settles in the darkness that you're not afraid of and the furniture you moved by yourself four times. It wakes you up at 730, ready to start the day. It leads you toward the poetry section instead of fiction, and to Otis Redding instead of Something Corporate.

It's not so much new as it is growing. It's always been there, patiently waiting, the friend that tugged you along, telling you to go there, try that, speak up, say it, popping up in the most unexpected ways. It waited until you were ready but now there's no stopping it. The way you surprise yourself is interesting now.