One afternoon a few weeks ago, I started sifting through snapshots and note cards in an attempt to create a makeshift mood board for the wall above my desk. Ever since I was in grade school, I've always had a bulletin board covered with layers upon layers of inspiration. Our temporary digs didn't feel like "home" yet because it was lacking in color and personality. Nothing really made it feel like it was ours; I thrive in an area that inspires. Like a tornado, I barreled through our stuff and started cutting up keepsakes and plastering them on the wall with Washi tape. My mom laughs at me because I have a tendency to rip out pages from our coffee table books. If you ever come to our house, please don't leaf through the displayed books. You'll more than likely find a page or two missing. As someone who respects a gorgeous book, this just doesn't seem right. I know! It's just sometimes the pages are SO gorgeous they deserve to be seen daily. Once our books are artfully stacked, I don't revisit them as often as I should. If a page speaks to me in a way that makes me incredibly giddy, I MUST find a way to frame it, or cut it up and add it to a collage. I know I'm making some of you cringe at the idea of this, but it happens when I get in a creative tizzy.
Unfortunately, this was bound to happen when I started running out of momentos at our apartment. Can we just have a moment of silence in remembrance of our household goods, which are currently being held hostage in some storage unit far far away?! I lied. They're actually in the same city as we are, but that tidbit of info hurts too much! Why don't we get back on topic? I turned to my Kate Spade Things We Love book and started flipping through the pages for ideas ONLY. I swore to myself that I would NOT rip out any pages from my favorite book. Then, I read the Henry Miller quote above and it made sense. I re-read the quote and I smiled. I started looking at other pages, but kept coming back to that quote. I broke my rule and pulled an Ashley by ripping it from the book. I closed my eyes and looked away because I couldn't believe what I was doing. Once I taped the page to my makeshift moodboard, I beamed.
These words speak to me; they're the perfect reminder when I'm uncertain as to what my future entails. When you move and your beloved routine is turned upside down, it's so easy to cling to your old ways and wish you could just GO BACK. Although I try to be strong and find joy in each day, looking back leaves me feeling nostalgic. Yes, they're memories, but our past in Hawaii is still too fresh. Right now seems uncertain and unsettled, so it's easy to want to look back. Instead of merely reminiscing, it can be a crutch and a way to avoid and accept the NOW. I think I've done a fair job at embracing this current season of life, but that doesn't mean I don't have my moments. Reading Miller's words each day allows me to reboot and just be grateful for right NOW. It's never about where we live, it's about the company we keep and how we CHOOSE to look at each day.
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