Lost and Found

Sometimes I get lost. Buried in my own anxiety and fear. But then when it clears, the girl I remember rises to the surface again. It’s like she was hiding from the parts of me that she doesn’t know. The parts that strip her of her freedom of self. But when she rises to the surface, she is beautiful, strong, confident and calm.

– C.A. Sullivan

Reflections

The end of one year and the start of a new, brings about feelings of deep reflection and the need for change. As many go into the new year with resolutions for change and success, and as others swear off restrictive plans and try a more balanced approach, I go into the new year with a simple childhood dream. To be happy.

I’ve spent the last 10 years transforming into a beautifully strong, independent, woman. While I’m sure I still have more transformations ahead of me, it’s time to give myself a break. From the restrictions, the negative talk, the self hate, the constant planning and the anxiety that stems from the hash rules I set for myself.

I’ve learned a lot of life lessons in a short period of time. Difficult and heart breaking lessons. Life changing lessons. Some things happened to me, others happened because of me. I’ve fallen apart, picked myself up, been picked up, fell apart again. Only looked at the bright side, only looked at the dark side, back to looking at the bright side. Truth is, nothing can break me but more importantly, nothing can take my light. I know that now.

I’ve scrutinized myself good and hard, long enough. Picked myself apart, dug deep to change, over and over again. While I still welcome change and transformation, I finally give myself permission to just enjoy being, existing, this moment and all the moments to come.

I know I’ll get where I’m going in my own time and on my own terms. I just don’t want to keep missing all the stops along the way.

– C.A. Sullivan

Grateful at Christmastime and Always

During the hustle and bustle of Christmas time, we all go about buying presents and driving like psychos, hoping to get that great sale we saw, needing desperately to buy that expensive thing for that person we love, making sure we don’t leave anyone out of our gift giving, we trample pregnant women at Walmart and we rush rush rush. We all take so much for granted, forgetting what Christmas and the holidays are all about.

The thought of family and love and togetherness are with us for but a moment and then forgotten again with the new year. We go about living our lives with it’s day to day duties and many misfortunes and we forget what a gift we have been given. The gift of life and of family and of friends and most of all the gift of love, all types of love.

For without love the world would be a dark and lonely place. Love gives us hope for tomorrow and hope for the future. It makes the misfortunes we come across less of a burden to face. If we could only keep this thought of gratefulness with us all year round we might get a little more out of life, we might face our struggles with more ease, we might appreciate those around us who love us a little more, and we might see the world with new eyes.

It seems so unfair to live with such ungratefulness when there are those of us who were taken from life too soon. To live with graciousness and love even in the darkest of times is to honor those who won’t get the chance to live again. So at Christmas time, while I’m feeling the sting of sensitivity, I’m grateful for everyone in life, past and present.

It’s all of you, family and friends, that have shaped who I am, kept me strong, helped me while I was down, laughed with me when I was happy and made memories that will last a lifetime. It’s my new years resolution to try to keep this thought with me year round. How about you?

– C.A. Sullivan

Falling Leaves

As a child I remember being outside in fall. 
I stood in the open field, surrounded by a fence of trees. 
The wind blew hard and steady, 
pulling the orange, red and brown leaves from their branches 
and into the air like snow. 
I spun around in circles, arms out,
head turned up towards the sky,
dancing in the leaf rain. 
They fell so beautifully and slowly, 
I didn’t want it to end. 
That magical moment when the world stopped 
and only I existed in it.

- C.A. Sullivan

The City at Christmastime

The passenger train pulled up to the station. Madeline stood with her parents in awe of the majestic beast that approached. Smoke trailing in the chill winter air, train whistle sounding as it came to a halt. The conductor stepped off and said “All aboard!” Madeline was so excited! Her parents were taking her to New York City for the very first time.

They stepped onto the train and took their seats as it pulled away from the station. Madeline sat and watched out the window as they passed houses, trees and towns. Some towns they even stopped in to pick up other passengers. It wasn’t long before the conductor announced the next stop, New York, Penn Station.

Once they arrived in the city they took the stairs out of the train station and up to the busy street. Loud car horns, taxis waiting in line to pick up passengers, smells of both delicious food and dirty streets hit Madeline’s scenes as she emerged from below the city.

Madeline’s parents were taking her to the Winter Village at Bryant Park. Rather than take a taxi, they decided to walk from Penn Station on 34th Street to 6th Avenue, up to Bryant Park. Along the way people walked briskly, stopping and going, not all following the pedestrian street lights. Some bumping into Madeline and her parents as she held her mother’s hand tightly. Buildings lined every street and towered over the people below. Car horns sounded, people yelling, police whistles blowing. There was excitement all around.

As they walked up 6th Avenue, Madeline could see the winter village in the distance. Getting closer and closer, she could make out the green merchant booths and see people shopping all around. Stepping into the village was like stepping into another world full of wonder and amazement. This one, more protected than the city streets and full of cheerful music and laughter. Booths lined the walkways, each with hand crafted gifts waiting to be admired, purchased, gift wrapped and opened with excitement on Christmas day. They walked through each booth, exploring what each merchant had to offer. Jewelry, macaroons, scarves, metal sculptures and more. Stopping at few to purchase wonderful gifts for family and friends.

Then, as they rounded the bend, an ice skating rink caught Madeline’s eye! What fun it looked like! The skaters bundled in their winter hats and gloves, skating round the rink as holiday music played in the background. Madeline wanted a try. She laced up her skates and hit the ice. The crisp winter air hitting her face and blowing her hair as she circled the rink, around and around she went. What freedom is was, to glide over the ice. Madeline imagined skating must feel like flying…right skate, left skate, pushing off the ground with such ease as if it wasn’t even there.

It was getting dark now. The white lights that were strung from booth to booth, connecting each to one another, began to illuminate. And the towering building lights from above, lit up the night sky. Madeline’s parents waved her off the ice. They were waiting on the sidelines with her favorite, hot chocolate. She took a sip. It tasted chocolatey rich, creamy smooth and had a hint of cinnamon. It warmed her to her heart.

Now that her parents Christmas shopping was done and Madeline got to ice skate for quite some time, it was time go home. They made their way through the busy city streets and back to Penn Station. Madeline feel asleep on the train ride home, dreaming of day’s magical adventure. She’d never forget the city at Christmastime and all it’s wonder. As a matter of fact, her parents made it a tradition to visit the city in all the years that followed.

– C.A. Sullivan

The Grind

I constantly feel the need for change even though I despise it and find it uncomfortable because without change, I get stuck in the monotony of the day to day grind. All it feels like is work, eat, sleep, repeat. I forget my purpose and my passions and it becomes easier and easier to push them aside.

I get so caught up in the imbalance that I get to a place of silence where I’m a shell of person. It’s almost like my brain shut down for anything other than the essentials or working. Which technically is an essential…work produces money that pays for the essentials. That’s no life to live.

That’s the kind of life where you blink and you’re 90 and realized you never really lived. I don’t want that.

But how do we break free from the monotony?

– C.A. Sullivan

All Dressed Up with Nothing to Say

Writing is really difficult when I feel like I have nothing to say. Most of the time I’ve got an opinion or a thought and just want to share it because I feel strongly about it or because I feel like others could benefit or relate to it.

Other times, I feel like I do today. I have nothing to say that’s important so I’m sitting here staring at my laptop screen. With everything that’s going on in the world, my voice feels so small and insignificant. What could I possibly have to say that’s going to make a difference or that people will even care about for that matter.

The truth is, I don’t know. I just have to create what I create because it’s what I love and hope someone cares about it. Often, I feel as though you either need to have a unique enough voice to be heard or you need to stand with other people who are saying the same thing to be heard.

If I try to write about something that I think other people want to read or care about, I lose interest or my writing comes across as insincere, 100 percent of the time.

I create because I want to. I create what makes me happy. I create what I’m passionate about. If I were to start creating for others instead of myself, I would certainly lose my authenticity and passion for what I do. It may not always be the best writing or something that anyone cares about, but it came from an honest place.

Even if it that means all I did was write this really boring post.

– C.A. Sullivan