#yourmove

 

Today's blog post is sponsored by Swatch! I'm so excited to be partnering with them. I've been a fan of their watches for years and I'm thrilled to finally have one of my own.

 

#YOURMOVE

 

Swatch SKIN

One of my favorite daily rituals is accessorizing. I love how it makes me feel feminine and put-together. It's fun to pick out different pieces based on my mood and outfit. What I love about my Swatch SKIN is that it's so versatile. It goes with everything. I can make it girly, modern, sporty, dressy, casual; seriously, everything. Its lightweight design and simple yet sophisticated look fit in perfectly with my minimalist wardrobe. This is the ideal everyday accessory.

“I move, therefore I am.”
— Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

I am striving to be present in my everyday life instead of just going through the motions. I'm learning to observe, embrace, and immerse myself fully. Finding thoughtfulness in each movement. Making time to slow down and focus on the good. Sometimes the most important move of your day is seeking stillness. #YOURMOVE #SwatchSKIN @swatch #ad

 

 

take care,

 
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i am not my pain

As many of you know, I struggle with anxiety… and that’s because I talk about it publicly. A lot. And I think it’s important to talk about because it makes others feel less alone in their shit. I remember when I first really started feeling crippled by anxiety (specifically, agoraphobia) I thought I was completely alone. I was convinced I was the only one going through this. I would share my pain on my blog and when others responded with comforting words—because they had also left of college and were unable to exit the house without having a panic attack—I felt understood. And somehow that—knowing that I wasn’t alone—made it easier to go on.

But that’s not what this post is about. It’s about how, since the age of 18, I have put my identity in having anxiety. It consumed every part of me, so naturally, it’s what I thought defined me. I’m 21 now, and it’s been an ongoing war full of battles won and lost. There's been a positive trend; not a perfectly straight line going up, but it’s going up. But no matter how high the line has risen, it is still wrapped in bright yellow caution tape that screams MADISEN HAS ANXIETY. It is the earth, and I am the moon.

Last week during yoga, Adriene (of Yoga With Adriene on YouTube) said something about allowing yourself not to let your pain or troubles define you. And something inside me just clicked. I have let my whole life revolve around this pain, but it’s not who I am. I am not anxiety; I am not just someone with anxiety, I am me. I am Madisen. I love dogs and wearing jewelry, and my eyes are always bigger than my stomach when it comes to both food and aspirations. I prefer tea to coffee. I care about people. I’m funny. I’m really competitive in board games. I love milkshakes and the ocean. I am so many things; and I get to decide who I am.

I’ve been meditating on this idea of not defining myself by my pain the past few days, and there has been a noticeable difference in my energy. It’s as if I forgot that I was allowed to do anything without considering my anxiety. Without checking in with it and asking permission to do this or that. And now suddenly, I’m allowed just to be me and live my life and not be so worried about being worried.

On Monday, as I laid in bed at the end of a full day of laughter, it hit me—I realized I didn’t think about my anxiety once that day, much less feel anxious. I was so focused on things that I was excited about—going to the beach (didn’t even consider the fact that I didn’t know where the closest bathroom was. #IBSprobs), eating good food (if you’re ever in Venice, grab a meal at The Butcher’s Daughter and then pick up some doughnuts across the street at Blue Star for dessert), and spending time with people I love (my boyfriend and my cousin who was visiting for a few days before flying home to Florida.) I was kind of shocked because, as I said, I’ve made anxiety a part of me. It’s not just something I struggle with; it is intertwined with every part of me. I think about it so often, you’d think I had a crush on it.

But, holy shit, I am closing this chapter of my life. I am not just a girl with anxiety. I am allowed to be happy, and careless, and free. And I am fully capable of that. I am going to walk around art museums by myself because I fucking love art. I’m going to travel the extra distance to the cuter coffee shop in my neighborhood because I’m millennial trash and I appreciate the exposed brick and tattooed baristas. There are places I want to go and things I want to do that I’ve tricked myself into believing either a) didn’t really matter to me, or b) I was incapable of doing (because of fear.) But they do matter, and I am capable. I can live without fear and discomfort being the deciding factor on everything. I can let the habitual beginning of panic pop into my consciousness, and then watch it float away. I can acknowledge it and say, “thanks, but no thanks. I’ll be just fine.”

Wow, I’m getting emotional typing this in a coffee shop right now (the cuter, further away one, by the way.) I feel freer just writing this. I feel like I've permitted myself to let go. To breathe deeply. To be happy. To consider other things to find my identity in—like being an artist, a lover, an untethered soul. I can be and do anything.

with love,

 
 
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i am, i am, i am

I swear that we're all in a constant, recurring state of amnesia. Especially me. My epiphanies seem to repeat themselves over and over again. I wonder when they'll finally stick.

Something that I've been re-discovering is that I am so much more capable than I realize. My anxiety disorder causes me to assume and anticipate the worst. I often view myself as someone who is weak and destined for failure. Therefore, I typically don't even try. I wimp out before my strength can even be tested because I'm too fearful of what the inadequacy will feel like. 

I've been doing a month long yoga challenge with Yoga with Adriene on Youtube. Today is day 11, and I almost skipped for the first time, because I haven't felt physically well all day. But I got on my mat anyway and tried. And I ended up being able to push myself much further than I thought I would. I found a strength within me, a collection of power sitting in the roots of my heart, waiting for me to believe in it. And as I laid on my back at the end of the practice, I felt empowered. glowing. centered. I meditated on the truth that I am more than I know.

I am more than I know.
I am more than I know.
I am more than I know.

When I put myself in these situations of intense intentionalism and focus, I am able to see myself more clearly. I can wipe away all the fog of fear and doubt and emotion, and just be. 

My epiphanies seem to repeat themselves over and over again. I wonder when they'll finally stick.

I guess they'll stick when I put more energy into being present and aware. I get tangled up in a minefield of mind games with myself, and it becomes so hard to snap out of the mess of thought. I'm reading The Untethered Soul by Michael A. Singer which is teaching me a lot about consciousness and awareness as a human smothered by so much internal and external stimuli. Soon, I will take these lessons that I've learned, and iron them onto my soul like girl scout patches. I will not forget the truths I have discovered because I will wear my sash every day and be reminded of who I am and who I desire to be.

I am. I am. I am.

I am so much more.

take care,

 
 

soulmates

Last night, Christopher and I played a game while walking the dogs. Earlier in the evening, he had joked about us not being "meant to be." The sky was dark and the air was warm and I told him to shout a number between 1 and 10 on the count of three, and if we said the same one, we were meant to be. I said 7 and he said 4. I said I almost said 4, and he said he almost said 7. The rest of the walk home we tested our compatibility in different categories, seeing if we could shout the same thing. Approaching our building, I said, "color of the rainbow on three; one, two, three―we both said blue. Next was season―we both said fall. And then Christopher said, "best kind of dog; one, two, three" and in unison we shouted, "KANYE!" then erupted in laughter. I guess we're meant to be.

 

kathleen (2015)

kathleen (2015)

I am slowly learning to disregard the insatiable desire to be special. I think it began, the soft piano ballad of epiphanic freedom that danced in my head, when you mentioned that “Van Gogh was her thing” while I stood there in my overall dress, admiring his sunflowers at the art museum. And then again on South Street, while we thumbed through old records and I picked up Morrissey and you mentioned her name like it was stuck in your teeth. Each time, I felt a paintbrush on my cheeks, covering my skin in grey and fading me into a quiet, concealed background that hummed “everything you’ve ever loved has been loved before, and everything you are has already been,” on an endless loop. It echoed in your wrists that I stared at, walking (home) in the middle of the street, and I felt like a ghost moving forward in an eternal line, waiting to haunt anyone who thought I was worth it. But no one keeps my name folded in their wallet. Only girls who are able to carve their names into paintings and vinyl live in pockets and dust bunnies and bathroom mirrors. And so be it, that I am grey and humming in the background. I am forgotten Sundays and chipped fingernail polish and borrowed sheets. I’m the song you’ll get stuck in your head, but it will remind you of someone else. I am 2 in the afternoon, I am the last day of winter, I am a face on the sidewalk that won’t show up in your dreams. And I am everywhere, and I am nothing at all.

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