who i am at 25.

i've been thinking a lot about what i would--what i should--write for this.

and the thing is, well, i haven't come up with much.

other than...

i'm okay.

here i am. 25. and i'm okay.

thrilling, right?

well, for me, it is. okay is nothing short of utterly and completely thrilling.

because for so long i was not. okay.

and then i was not quite.

i have moments. all the time. moments where i feel like i should have done more. been more. said more. moments where i feel so far behind. hell, i'm 25 already. this is it? this is all i've accomplished? but then i quietly remind myself that we all have different paths. different life trajectories. our stories vary. and my accomplishments, my multitudinous (yup, i just used that word) victories are mostly private. things that others might never understand. but for me those victories are the difference between not okay. not quite. and just fine.

and just fine, okay, whatever-you-want-to-call-it is the beginning. the beginning of everything. the part of my story where my successes become (i hope) a bit more public.

so who am i at 25?

i'm someone who believes that unsolicited smiles by strangers are one of the most profound acts of kindness possible.

i still use the crabtree and evelyn room spray that my mother gifted me for my 19th birthday. it immediately brings me back to a time of naivete and endless possibility.

i find the music of florence + the machine to solicit more sock-to-wood-floor dancing than is proper or appropriate or even becoming of a lady of my pedigree (and now) age.

the quote that makes the most sense to me right now--right at this very moment: "sometimes i can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives i'm not living" (jonathan safran foer {of course}).

if i could go anywhere tomorrow i'd hop on a boat and sail up the dalmatian coast. or i'd return to rome. and sit in church after church after church. saturating myself in beauty and history. satiating myself with prayer (and a lot, a lot of gelato).

i don't know where life goes from here. but i'm so excited to go boldly into the unknown. to try. and to fail a little, as inevitably i will. but also to start gathering successes. collecting them one by one in the cradle of my arms so i can lay them on the alter of this life as my humble (and multitudinous) thanks.

i am so thankful to be 25. to be 25 and just fine.

see last year's who i am at 24.

image via.

physique.

yesterday morning i took my first physique 57 class.

with natalie teaching.

and my friend victoria by my side.

i thought. i was going. to die.

the only thing i could do was laugh through the entire class.

the first ten minutes consisted of something cleverly-entitled skiing.

let me very clear: there are few things i like more than hitting the slopes--from a very young age this has been true (see below photo as evidence):

but after the first ten minutes of physique skiing my legs were shaking uncontrollably.

in fact, i have no idea how i survived the rest of the class.

but i did.

and the promise of a slimmer waist is just so darn seductive.

yes, yes a healthy, fit body, healthy heart--all that is appealing too. in fact, that is the primary goal.

but let's be honest: new york is small. and ex-boyfriends abound. and one wants to look good when...well... you know how the girl psyche works.

so tomorrow morning i return. for more torture. and i cannot wait.

i went to school for theatre.

and somewhere along the way life got in the way.

and so i took some time. for myself. to refocus.

and then i agreed to do this little production of romeo and juliet. in utah. to see if i might go back.

and that yielded... well. uncertainty.

and all i wanted--all i want--is some definitive answer. some clear signal to erupt before me.

a friend asked me this week if i feel like an actor. and i said, i don't know.

what does it mean to feel like an actor? truly, i'd like to know. and if i don't know, does that mean i am not one? that i cannot be one?

intellectually i know that we all have different paths. different timelines. but what if i'm not moving forward at all? what if i'm just treading water? standing at the fork in the road

today is the first day of october.

the start of october ushers in my favorite time of the year.

perhaps it is the feel of the air. the sense of new beginnings and hope. perhaps it is the celebration of my birthday. or that it begins the path to thanksgiving and christmas.

i'm not sure precisely what it is, i'm just glad that it is here.

found in an old journal.

why is it that i cannot write about loving him?

i can write about green tennis shoes. or a baseball hat worn aslant. i can write about exposed brick walls and the movie rushmore. sitting on opposite ends of the couch with too much to say sitting just between us. or street fighter and nick drake. i can write about dark theaters and hanging pony-tails. long-narrow corridors with well-worn floors.

i can write about all these things--all these parts. but i cannot write about him.

and because i cannot write about him, i cannot write about love.