Cincinnati

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Erin hasn’t posted in over a week…is she even still alive?

Affirmative. I’ve been a bit stir crazy lately, and bored sick of my monotonous routine. I write schedules, count money, and perform other mundane tasks for minimum wage four days a week. On my days off, I apply for jobs that aren’t much more appealing, and wait impatiently for a response. I read, write, and see friends in my free time to maintain sanity. Although, there’s so little going on in my life, that there’s not much to write about.

When my friend invited me to visit him in Cincinnati, Ohio, I immediately started saving up. I requested time off of work, booked a reasonably priced flight, and waited until the last minute to tell anyone about my little trip. I figured I have 23 years worth of unspent irresponsibility waiting to be used, so why not do something spontaneous?

Airport. Baggage check. Security. Accents. Cowboy boots. Sunrise outside the gate window. Goodbye, Arizona.

Fasten your seat beat. Would you like anything to drink? If you don’t learn to fend for yourself, you will die. Did you hear what the guy in front of us just told his kid? Brave New World. The Evolution of God. Zzz. Welcome to Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky International Airport. Brr.

My friend picked me up, we dropped off my bag, then drove around the city. Phoenix is a city of primarily concrete buildings, dull colors, and modern simplicity. Cincinnati, being an older city, is full of bold colors, brick, run-down buildings, and overall more character. I couldn’t help but stare out the car window in awe. I learned all sorts of fun facts about the city from my friend and shared some of my random knowledge in return.

We went to a park on a hill overlooking the downtown. As I sat on a bench, curling into myself, the sight reignited my big-picture thinking, which had been suffering back home. The city is huge and expansive, yet from a birds eye view it appears small and contained, like an ant farm. Yet, there are hundreds of thousands of individuals within that big city, living their own individual life, occasionally crossing paths with other inhabitants. And, as big as Cincinnati is, it’s only one of millions of similar cities – a self-contained world, which is only a small part of something so much bigger and more complex. Like an endless series of nesting dolls, all of which contain several unique levels of significance, yet which also compose and explain a fraction of some bigger symbolic existence. I still can’t wrap my head around the concept.

We went to the University of Cincinnati campus and people-watched, observing how hard people try to fit in, yet how obvious it that each is their own unique person. We went to Newport on the Levee and people-watched some more, commenting on people’s interesting mannerisms, topics of conversation, and parenting tactics.

We visited the downtown, including Fountain Square. We went to the Cincinnati Zoo & Botanical Garden, which was awesome because I absolutely love animals. I love my hometown zoo, but it’s wonderful seeing creatures that can’t survive the Arizona heat. We saw gorillas, playful polar bears, manatees, several species of wild cats, white lions, neat reptiles, and crazy insects. We also went to the Newport Aquarium to see exotic fish, sharks, turtles, frogs, and all sorts of amazing creatures. It was full of underwater tunnels, in which you’re surrounded on all sides by glass walls within a tank full of sea creatures. In a move of deliberate irony, we had crab for dinner.

I had the opportunity to catch up with some relatives that live in town, which was great since I hadn’t seen them in about six years. We talked about family, life, traveling, opportunities, and what’s next. It was really nice. At the end of the day, my friend and I would play Scrabble and talk about our favorite books. We also hung out with his friends and roommate, which was a lot of fun. Despite being painfully shy, I find meeting new people to be highly invigorating and almost always a positive experience. There something about fresh conversations and new perspectives that can really shine a light on previously neglected corners of your life. Interpersonal interactions are truly some of the most enlightening and fulfilling opportunities in life. That is both my personal opinion, and scientifically proven in psychological studies.

Airport. Baggage check. Security. Accents. Dark skies and flashing lights outside the gate window. Goodbye, Ohio.

Fasten your seat beat. Would you like anything to drink? God, I wish that baby would shut up. Are you from Arizona? Do you like flying? The Evolution of God. An Abundance of Katherines. Crisp blackness, glowing stars, lit cities seen from the skies, overwhelming thoughts about life and the universe. Zzz. Welcome to Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport. Sigh.

The trip was well-worth the time and money! I had an incredible time seeing a good friend, I was able to rejuvenate and fortify all the areas that have been falling short lately, and I now have the motivation to push my job search into overdrive so I can afford to travel like this more often. It was just what I needed.

This is easily the craziest, most irresponsible, and spontaneous thing I’ve ever done. What crazy, but worthwhile it things have you done?

A Piece of You for a Piece of Me

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"A Piece of You for a Piece of Me"

A few months ago, my friend asked me to be the subject for a conceptual photo project she had planned. I couldn’t say no to the two-fold opportunity to help out a good friend and immerse myself in someone else’s creative process. It was a fun experience, and we were both happy with how the finished product turned out, although she gets full credit – she is amazing! I’ve wanted to share it for awhile, but was unable to settle on the context until now.

I love how simple the image is, yet what I relish even more is the dichotomy between the elementary idea of “A Piece of You for a Piece of Me” and the complex implications behind the idea of “giving of yourself” in a relationship. It brings a smile to my face thinking that the complicated and messy idea of give-and-take in a social interaction could be reduced to the simplistic, yet evocative image of an extended hand. It’s almost a child-like interpretation of love and trust, before the concept has had a chance to become tarnished and skewed by negative life experiences.

I personally find the picture to be comforting. I believe that being single is the closest one can get to being themselves…that is, until one finds a partner that elicits complete trust. Someone with whom you can fully expose yourself without fear, and expect the same in return. Someone who does not require you to compromise your values and ambitions. Someone who won’t implement secret tests in order to gauge your commitment.

From my observations, the best, most successful, and longest-lasting relationships are those in which the couple can be, simultaneously, best friends and lovers. Where there’s a healthy balance between playful moments, affection, and seriousness. It’s about offering a piece of yourself for a piece of the other, and then continuing this exercise indefinitely. It’s about vulnerability, and being loved for who you are, once all the layers and defenses have been stripped away.

Several years ago, I came across of list of children’s interpretations of what love means. It initially shocked me how profound some of the statements from the four- to eight-year-olds were, but rethinking it, children surely have a pure and more honest view on love and life than the rest of us.

“Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired.”

“When you tell someone something bad about yourself and you’re scared they won’t love you anymore. But then you get surprised because not only do they still love you, they love you even more.”

“When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth.”

“You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.”

Love and all related concepts are far simpler than we give them credit for. Giving wholeheartedly of yourself and trusting without reservation is easier, safer, and more fulfilling than most people would believe. Taking on the perspective of a child – seeing love as simple, fearless, and beautiful – is an admirable aim, and an achievable one, at that.

Today is not a day for roses, chocolates, and cheesy poems, but a day for recognizing all the love in your life, although that is something that can and should be done continually throughout the year, regardless of the day. Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! You are all loved, far more than you could possibly fathom.

How To Be Emotionally Stable Without Getting Bored

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Life is composed of a series of ups and downs, a continual oscillation of experiences and emotions. Positive, torturous, and everything in between. This is a beautifully brilliant melody about hope and despair, love and pain, depression and connection. It’s relatable, eloquently written, and something I believe any thoughtful and curious person could appreciate. It’s spectacular, universally relevant, and something I can’t not share.

The article is by Nick Cox, and put to music by Max Lugavere. The lyrics are below.

How To Be Emotionally Stable Without Getting Bored

Start as someone who loves with above-average intensity. Fall so in love with people and with things that you forget to eat and sleep. Stay up all night reading a certain book or listening to a certain song or gazing into a certain person’s eyes or just pacing back and forth thinking about whatever it is you can’t stop thinking about. Know what it’s like to lose all control over the operation of your mind. See abyssal profundity where others see only surface. Experience moments in which the whole universe seems to close in around you and your head feels like an astrolabe and you feel the entire concentric cosmos click together into one unified image of perfect beauty and harmony and all you want to do is hold it in your mind forever and fall down on your knees and worship it.

Start to see this image more and more frequently, often at inopportune moments. Feel its beauty morph slowly but inexorably into terror. Start looking for ways to drown it out; settle on booze and drugs and deafening music. Go to bed every night drunk enough to pass out immediately, but then wake at 5am, feel it bearing down upon you once again, press your face into your pillow, and weep with fear.

Slide into the dark period you knew was coming. Go for months feeling okay only when you’re asleep. Open your eyes every morning just in time to feel the okay-ness seep out of you like blood from a stab-wound. Stop checking your email because you know it will just be your friends asking you if you’re okay, and you don’t want to admit that you really aren’t but know they won’t believe you if you lie and say you are. Stop showering because it seems like too much effort to undress. Step outside on the first beautiful day of spring and think absently about how it does nothing for you. Feel like everything is impossible; feel like doing anything at all would require a greater suspension of disbelief than you are capable of. Feel burning itches in places like the lining of your stomach and the backsides of your retinas.

Hit rock bottom. Lose your job; flunk out of school; drive your car into a tree. Wake up in a hospital bed and see your parents staring at you, weeping. Move back into the room you grew up in and spend weeks in your pajamas eating canned soup and staring at the ceiling. Feel as though you are lying on the ocean floor with seven miles of water pressing down on you. Let your mouth hang open because it seems like too much effort to raise your jaw. Feel nothing. Forget that you exist; forget that anything exists. Feel like you have passed into death.

See a psychiatrist; get on meds. Start feeling a bit better. Watch a sitcom with your parents and laugh a little. Go for a walk expecting it to do nothing for you and find that it does a little. Pull fresh air through your nostrils and feel something. Feel, after a few weeks, a vague sense of coming out of something; feel a certain presence, which you had taken for granted since before you can remember, start to pass out of you. See a bird flapping its wings on a telephone wire and laugh for no reason. Wonder if this is what people mean when they talk about happiness.

Start seeing a therapist. For the first time ever, see your entire life laid out in front of you all at once, like a dollhouse. Realize with a shock of recognition that you were depressed the whole time. Realize that, the whole time, you just assumed that life was this difficult for everyone, and that everyone else just had better self-discipline or better self-control or a better attitude than you did. Realize it wasn’t your fault and feel something inside you burst and dissipate. Talk about your life — family, friends, relationships, traumas — and realize that everything is connected to everything else, that every feeling you carry inside you has a history and a reason for existing. Start to figure out which of the feelings are yours and which are not; start to let go of the ones that aren’t.

Start to understand that feelings are much more than just the amorphous clouds of pain or pleasure that they feel like when you’re in them; start to see those clouds as mere surfaces, concealing complex and highly specific configurations of memories and obsolete assumptions and vestigial unfulfilled desires and lingering residues of people and things that you used to love, all hooked into one another and pulled taut like a cat’s cradle whose total shape sometimes flashes in your mind for a moment all at once. Notice that the experience of these moments of Gestalt illumination reminds you a little of what it used to feel like to fall in love, before love turned into terror and finally burnt itself out, except that now it’s not scary or overwhelming so much as gently rewarding, something like the feeling of solving a challenging but still low-key riddle.

Keep feeling out, little by little, the inner structures of the emotions that once ruled you. As you explore, start to feel them coalesce into something solid and unmoving. Start to understand that the solid and unmoving thing was there all along, waiting patiently for you to notice it. Realize you have already begun to think of it as home. Wonder if this is what people mean when they talk about emotional stability.

Realize one day in the shower that the unmoving thing you’ve arrived at and the cosmic image that once drove you mad are one and the same. Realize that it’s just you, that all along it was just you and nothing more. Laugh at how stupidly obvious that seems now. Feel the unmoving thing settle into you, and you into it, and notice, almost casually, that for the first time in your life you are completely without fear. Look at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and feel like you are seeing an old friend you haven’t seen in ages. Realize that after years of false hopes, you have finally arrived at something real, something that no one can ever take away from you.

Realize that this arrival, which is what people mean when they talk about “finding yourself,” is not an end but a beginning. You have nailed down the vital center; now for a lifetime of filling out the periphery. In living through, then recollecting, your own story, you have learned implicitly that there is a story coiled up inside of everyone and everything. Maybe you knew this all along. Maybe this was why you were so quick to fall in love with everything in sight; maybe you sensed instinctively the overflowing fullness of all things too soon, before you were ready to grasp their interior complexity. Maybe when you were in love with things, what you were really in love with was not the things themselves but rather something inside them that you could never quite get at, which was why you loved them with such annihilating desperation, as if throwing yourself over and over against a locked door. But now that you have found yourself, now that you have fought for and won your emotional stability, you will find that you have been granted a master key. As that unmoving thing was waiting all along for you to notice it, so too does the whole world now stretch out in all directions, patiently awaiting your discovering gaze; and so too does every thing hold its story trapped inside it like a spirit, waiting for you to utter the incantation that will release it. Don’t be overwhelmed by the abundance: your life has only just begun, and you have all the time in the world.

Urban Isolation

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Have you ever felt alone in a crowd, been surrounded by dozens of people, without one even glancing your way? Do you ever feel like when you talk to people, they aren’t actually listening, don’t really care?

One of my favorite pastimes is people-watching. It’s fascinating to notice mannerisms, to listen in on a distant argument, to catch a glimpse stolen kisses. To notice how little people actually interact with one another, and how distracted they are when they do.

My friend and I had a conversation on the topic today. We’re both deeply thoughtful and curious, seeking out new knowledge with more voracity than a heat-seeking missile. We’re both kind and honest with a good set of ears and an open heart, we both value good friends, and thus try to be the same to others. We seem to be a rare breed.

As I’ve surely expressed a dozen times, I’ve never particularly fit into the mainstream expectations or thought on the same level as everyone else. I was my own best friend, with books, educational videos, and intelligent adults trailing not too far behind. My imagination has always been my favorite toy, balanced with the logic and reason fortified by puzzles, Scrabble, and my beloved Mensa math book. Video games, playground drama, and new clothes never excited me. I wasn’t concerned with the same things, and I didn’t worry what other people thought about my apparent disinterest. Things really haven’t changed much.

As much as I feel I have to offer the world, to offer each individual I encounter, I’ve always felt at a disadvantage. If I say something too intelligent or obscure, eye will roll. If I say something critical, yet constructive, feelings will inevitably be hurt. If I want to try something new or out-of-the-ordinary, I’ll receive questioning glaces and be called strange. Different priorities, interests, and ideas are rarely seen as opportunities for learning; rather they are generally viewed as incompatibility, a ticking time-bomb leading up to an ugly confrontation.

While others are content with their superficial surface talk, I’m not. I could never be. I thoroughly dislike small talk, but understand its necessity. However, being completely open and honest from the start is surprisingly easy and rewarding. I don’t think the whole starting off small and safe is as essential as people make it out to be. Although, I often feel many people lack the depth to ever move beyond mundane and complacent conversation, let alone do so right away.

I recently complete the book, Paper Towns, by John Green, in which Margo runs away from from her weary, artificial life shortly before her high school graduation. She is beautiful, popular, adventurous, intelligent, and simply knows that there’s so much more to life than any of that. But no one around her seems to understand, or even accept the concept.

“Here’s what’s not beautiful about it: from here, you can’t see the rust or the cracked paint or whatever, but you can tell what the place really is. You see how fake it all is. It’s not even hard enough to be made of plastic. It’s a paper town. I mean look at it, Q: look at all those cul-de-sacs, those streets that turn in on themselves, all the houses that were built to fall apart. All those paper people living in their paper houses, burning the future to stay warm. All the paper kids drinking beer some bum bought for them at the paper convenience store. Everyone demented with the mania of owning things. All the things paper-thin and paper-frail. And all the people, too. I’ve lived here for eighteen years and I have never once in my life come across anyone who cares about anything that matters.”

- Margo, Paper Towns

I currently have two friends with whom I really connect and can carry on stimulating conversation, in which I can learn and better myself. That’s sufficient. Yet, it makes me a little sad that after all the effort I put into meeting new people, maintaining friendships, and even simply engaging in a good conversation here and there, most of my efforts are fruitless. And even worse, they leave me frustrated and a bit hopeless. I enjoy solitude, but I think a big reason for that is that my options are limited. It would be so nice to relate to someone, to discover similar interests and ambitions, to not feel so alone in this hugely vast and uninviting world.

My friend made a very interesting point. The way in which both of us are best able to connect with others is through art and creativity. Some of the best discussions of my life have occurred in the comments section of different posts. That makes me exceedingly happy. Yet my beaming smile is immediately followed by an internal crash, an exaggerated sigh. Why is it so hard to find that in real life?

Sometimes, I think I’d be nice to just rise above it all, to see the clockwork of the world ticking away. I wish everyone could have that view, to see that they’re a part of something bigger, that we’re all ultimately benefiting from and contributing to the same future, the same end. It’s important to focus inward in order to develop and better yourself, but it’s also important to live life and engage with others, to have a positive impact.

When everyone considers themselves to be self-sufficient and independent, so long as individuals see themselves as separate from everyone else and the world around them, we’re all going to remain caught in this vicious cycle of urban isolation.

New Life

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I have about fifteen drafts that I can’t seem to tie together, so I apologize for slacking a bit lately. The weather here in Arizona has been spectacular and the past few weeks and new life has sprouted up everywhere. Although the zucchini is struggling, I’ve got broccoli, spinach, romaine lettuce, rosemary, paper white flowers (my favorites), perennials, bulbs, and roses right now. So here are some of the backyard beauties I’ve been watching grow.


World Domination Summit is a Go!

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The registration for World Domination Summit was on Tuesday, so I woke up bright and early to patiently await the priority registration link in my inbox. I immediately bought my ticket, along with 400 other before the tickets sold out in under ten minutes. That means that 125 days from now I’ll be in Portland, Oregon reporting back on all of the brilliant speakers, the fascinating new ideas I hear, and the interesting people I meet from around the globe.

Registration came out to be $520, three nights at a nearby hotel is $550, and the flight will likely be around $400 – that’s $1,500 for a three-day conference. That’s a lot of money, but I’m confident it will be well-worth every penny. You, my wonderfully supportive readers, have essentially covered the cost of registration for me, so THANK YOU! My parents have offered to cover the hotel costs, so all I have to worry about is the flight and then small expenses like food and seeing the city. The link expired, but if anyone is still interested in helping out, let me know and I’ll create a new a new “Help Erin Change the World” fund.

I anticipate this to be an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime experience. When people ask, I have a hard time putting into words what the event entails – it’s basically a gathering of amazing people with big plans, hosted by the man who first got me interested in living unconventionally and blogging.

On the main stage, speakers will share their message – their personal stories, practical ideas, hopes for the future, and opportunities for Q&A. There will also be workshops on travel hacking, how to get a book deal, entrepreneurship and a $100 start-up, how to live and work overseas, and how to bridge a connection between are and money. Opportunities for touring the city will be available – the booming food cart industry, a brewery and brewpubs, the “Best of Hipsterville,” and Crafty Wonderland are just some of the options. Beyond that, there will be blogger meetup, book signings, downtime to meet other unconventional thinkers and network.

Seeing as I’ve been out of school for nearly a year and am making only slightly more than my sixteen-year-old sister, I’m hoping the conference will be a great networking opportunity. Somewhere where I can either connect with like-minded individuals, someone who might be interested in working with me and possibly presenting a job opportunity, or someone who may be able to guide me down the unconventional path of successful self-employment of some sort.

I love learning, whether it be through reading, going to classes, listening to speakers, or carrying on an intelligent conversation with someone. The World Domination Summit seems to be the perfect combination of all the above. I can’t wait to attend, apply what I learn to my own life, and pass along my new found knowledge to all of you!

Why Your Book May Never Be Published

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Only a small percentage of people who write a novel will ever see it published. Of those, an even smaller percentage will ever make enough from their books to write full-time. Many writers who struggle to get published are making a lot of mistakes, many of which they may be entirely unaware of.

After attending a writing workshop with the young adult fiction writer, Tom Laveen, I immediately purchased one of the books he recommended, 78 Reasons Why Your Book May Never Be Published and 14 Reasons Why It Just Might by Pat Walsh. Although I’m not sure if publishing a book is in the cards for me, I’m interested enough to do a bit of research, and this book was the perfect resource.

The book is broken into logical categories and then divided further into more specific reasons why your book may or may not be published. Writing is difficult and time consuming, and many writers simply don’t realize just how much goes into producing a publishable book. This guide is a blunt, sarcastic, and brutally honest inside look at what publishers, editors, and agents are looking for and what you can do to achieve success.

  • Do the necessary work, and do it to the highest quality the first time to ensure that your book will be appreciated by a readership.
  • Know how to refine you presentation in order to get the reaction you want. Make sure every page, paragraph, and sentence is powerful and potent.
  •  Understand the concerns and motivations of the industry you’re trying to influence and impress.
  • Avoid the sloppy mistakes that make rejecting you easy.
  • Separate yourself from those who are looking for shortcuts and bypassing the necessary steps.
  • Keep your wits about you and a positive attitude, even when your efforts don’t seem to be paying off.
  • Take yourself seriously and genuinely believe that your work is valuable and important; others will see your passion and follow suit.

The book is a short, easy, and entertaining read, and a great tool for anyone who is considering publishing or interested in learning a bit about the industry.