Do you?

It’s Friday night. The beloved day of the week you have been wishing for since Monday. It’s what got you through wearing that same pack of obnoxious, mustard yellow Old Navy masks during that 3 hour class of yours. And then doing it the next day, and the next day– oh wait, and the next day. And yet, it’s finally here. And yet, I am still unamused.

It’s all too strange. Times are weird. Your glasses fog up because of that crusty old–let’s face it– probably unwashed mask. I’m saying it now, but you probably heard all these trite statements mentioned on the news for the 60th time this week. Or, from that person you-don’t-see, but-do-see at the grocery store who abruptly stops you while you’re just trying to plop a bag of avocados in the cart and run away. Or, from your middle-aged neighbor who simply shares a hackneyed photo stating “wear a mask” on Facebook.

And then there’s the stories I wish I didn’t have to share or even necessarily think about. A somber conversation with your grandparent, your brother, your mom, telling you about a PERSON, a human, a sheer life has been deflated. Yes, some minor. A fever. Congestion. All due to your inflated, utterly, stupendously, outrageous, superior point of view. Though, if you would like to question me on this… feel free to send me a DM.

And why am I typing this word press post in my bed on a Friday night? It’s because I am fearful, fearful not solely for the foreign Zoom access codes that I struggle to connect to (Shoutout to my lagging internet connection) or the stress I succumb to on a daily basis as your average nursing student. No, rather for the lives I come in contact with daily and the potential patients I could come in contact with. This. This my friends, is why I am sharing.

I want to go to school. Actually, go to school. I know, I know. Cheesy, right? I genuinely love the magic–if that’s what you call it– of sitting in class, of seeing humans, of glancing at the blue-light projector sitting in a row of desks next to my bestest buddies. I’ve always been the strange, giddy, enthusiastic kid ready for school (guess some things never change, huh?). I genuinely want to see a patient during clinical, smile without a mask on to an ill patient. I want to share a huge smile where you can actually see my teeth– in a not so creepy way.. Actually communicate without having to awkwardly say “WHAT!??” after not hearing a remark I easily should have heard the first time.  I want to be able to have skin without tiny red bumps gathered at the corners of my mouth…. or as I like to call it “mask-ne”. (Get it.. it’s like acne under your mask).

I hear what you’re saying. I really do… but I don’t. I don’t think you’ve heard the perspective ~yet~ from a overtly, concerned college student’s perspective. I don’t want to see your outrageous “banger” over Snapchat nor do I want to see the entire Luzerne county gathered in the back of your tiny 6×6 foot backyard. No. I want to see you wear a mask, a mask over your face– yes, including your nose. Please…?

Though I cannot say I have been diagnosed with the virus nor I have been personally victimized by the fricking virus (yes… I am @ you COVID-19), I have utter concern and care for those around me.

I wear a mask for the betterment of those around me. I wear a mask to (hopefully) continue my college education for greater than a month, to feel the pang of my eyeballs burn from staring at a screen for my IN PERSON classes, to relentlessly foster the relationships amongst my peers + clinical instructor+ my professors+ of course, my best buddy roommates.

I wear a mask.

Do you?

QuaranDREAMS

You ever have that strange inane surge to start writing? Like a random buzz in your brain, begging your hypothalamus telling you, “hey, in order to maintain homeostasis, this chick right here must write.” Or here’s another analogy: Maslow would be flipping somewhere in his grave urging nursing theorists near and far that there is a new, profound sort of need. Not safety, not oxygen, none of that- though to be honest, I can’t live without that. So I do give him major kudos for his accomplishments. However, write now (lol get it), right now writing is that sense of shelter, security, love, air.

So, here we are.

Anyway, I find this alone time to be similar to that of  Elizabeth Gilbert’s “Eat, Pray, Love” journey. One of rigor, solitude, adventure, spark– except there is no crazy ride into India and Italy and Indonesia. Just one big ol’ journey in the confines of my home in bumble *bleep*, small town USA. I discovered some pretty interesting stuff during this period of isolation, that I thought maybe some of this could be worth sharing. A tiny gold nugget of goodness. Who knows? Maybe when I look back a day or two from now, or ya know if science surpasses my mind’s capability, I may be a robotic Jess reading this to my robotots in the year 3030.

Life does *somehow* go on despite the mass closures and halts placed on practically everything. If anything in attempts to stop nearly anything and everything, I think my mind, my spiritually, ME, got kicked on into overdrive to a WHOLE. NEW. LEVEL. It’s funky, ya know? I found this to be weird, here me out.

1. It’s okay to not grind every single fricking second of the day. Crazy, right? Prior to quarantine if you would have told me to stay at home, stay away from the beautiful barbells, chlorine, and the newfound middle-aged friend named John who I met at spin class (yes, shout out to you for teaching this 19 year old girl how to adjust a stationary bike…) I would have nearly had a vasovagal reaction like I do whenever I have to unforesakenly get blood work done. But, I know there is a purpose in this: what if slowing down, was just as equivalent as grinding? What if, if acting with intention and pure mindfulness we’d be going at a much more manageable pace, getting more accomplished, aligned with our goals? I think I finally realized that.
2. Athleisure truly is a game-changer, but so is that occasional dress-down day. As an honorary catholic school girl, and to all my Catholic school peeps, you know the utter joy of being able to wear something different, something fresh, something that was ultimately the essence of you. Not a plaid skirt nor a suffocating collar shirt squeezing your poor neck nearly lifeless. No. Rather, the feeling of waking up, actually looking into your closet full of pinks, purples, light up Sketchers, knowing you were going to be different today. Welp, nearly 10 years later, as I am hunched over staring at my screen, I can honestly say that same feeling appeared. (well, despite not having a blond bowl cut and bangs, boot cut khakis, and a plaid jumper embroidered with my school’s name). There is grace to be found. Here I am waking up on a random Tuesday morning, all sorts of giddy knowing today I will not wear the same Nike sweat pants for the 12th day in a row. Rather, I am teleported back to that little girl. Pretty neat, right?
3. Reading is cool. Yes, laying outside on your porch with a good book is, in fact, bliss. Or your bed. I don’t care. HOWEVER, if you STILL continue to bash the beauty of reading, I truly am sorry for you. Now’s the time to read that book from Barnes and Noble you got 1 year ago from a friend of a friend who recommended it to you. Please. Your pupils will be happy that you are no longer staring at a blue light computer and I will be cheering you on, too… but, I am not your mom.
4. “STOLAT STOLAT”. Get back to your roots people. While I do have a polish tattoo on my back, I’ll be the first to admit that I am NOT fluent in the Polish language. However, if I want to– I can be. Apparently, it takes 4,400 hours to learn a new language. How about instead of napping your entire day away, scrolling on tik tok into the wee hours of the night, complaining about being bored… hm, you unbore yourself. Or what if (get this) we learn something new? For my birthday, I made it my goal to learn the Polish Happy Birthday Song. And guess what? It didn’t even take me a half hour to learn. So, how about instead of complaining there is nothing to do, you find something to do and get something out of this solitude. I challenge you to learn a birthday song in the language of your choice. Good Luck. Powodzenia.

That’s all I got so far. I truly believe that we can get the most out of this crazy period but ultimately living out our QuaranDREAMS. Think about what you want, get you want, and dream people.

Cześć!

Faith… and not just a religion

A name. A never, ending cycle of a well spent Sunday at church. A lengthy prayer before every. single. meal. And faith, of course- is YOU.

Is it just me or is there such a lack of this ambiguous term “faith” floating all around us? Ah yes- 2017, we are all just little mice scurrying around at millions of meters per second gamboling about without set intentions. Or a defined purpose.

This running and scampering and fidgeting and zooming- why are we programmed to go. Go without hesitation. Certainly, we could blame all of this mumbo- jumbo on our preconceived genetics or biology, but that would be waaayy to simple.

Competition- it’s not just a means for sports anymore. This challenging lifestyle asks you to maintain those 960 followers on Instagram, just uping (is that a word??) your BFF followers. What about your fad 21 day diet? Are you partaking in this tolling, marathon race on your body or for the sole sheen of laughter on your face.

Questions man, hard questions.

My goal for this week is to define + rediscover the meaning of faith in my life. I know with myself I have been crazily wrecking my self by comparison, competing, and insert any other synonymous c word. But, what does faith say about this? Faith begged me to listen to my body. Faith is helping me understand my intuition. Faith is believing in MYSELF + Mr. Higher-Up. So that may mean to fight the insane urge to photoshop pictures of myself for an hour or any means of covering the prized gift which is YOU + I. That may mean rekindling your faith with God or Buddha or whomever that may be to you.

Faith tells us that we are more than a leg or thigh or shoulder or tummy. Faith tells us to banish that, all of that.

While this week I may discontinue hours upon hours of scrolling on the infamous “Gram”, I do this with intention. Because although social media and comparison from scrolling may have temporarily killed our happiness, it won’t forever.

Hey let’s just try to tune in with our body; with faith comes happiness. We all deserve a happiness greater than a few cliche Insta comments on our recent selfie. This happiness comes from within.

I know because-well, faith told me.

8 Things I’d Rather Have Than The “Perfect” Body

just stumbled upon this post, a post that was indefinitely needed during this time. let’s all take a moment to reflect (-:

To an old friend…

A letter to an old friend of mine, who I no longer keep in contact with…

Dear diet culture,

You. You were as appetizing as the piece of chocolate cake, the cake I did not eat because you force fed me the 90 calorie wrap filled with nothingness instead. You told me cake is not for me. Cake is against everything that YOU have come to believe in.

You told me to relax. Just chill out. Your willpower to eat in a few hours was much, much better than accepting + nourishing my grumbling tummy. You could have won a prized gold medal for not giving into your physiological, biological cues. Congrats!

You soonly demolished my dwindling hunger cues with that wrecking ball of yours. Your strength empowered my weakening mind. Ha, not anymore…

You scrambled my metabolism like the glorious egg yolks you told me not to devour. Remember? Eggs have too much fat.

You. You encouraged me to lie in bed, stricken with a sense of guilt + shame. You even actually chuckled at the mere thought of me going out to a restaurant, with loved ones. So, I listened. No party, no shame. No restaurant, no unecessary calories.

HA. The best yet- you, you took years off my flourishing, teenage life. You begged me; you yelled at me. Don’t do it. Don’t go. Stay home. You’ll be in control. You tortured me more. Just a little more. Okay, maybe just a tad bit more…

until you tied my hands + unleashed me under your control. Those hands we’re no longer home to your happiness and love and smiling photographs and cookbooks and sleepovers.

Something finally clicked and that’s as simple, yet most complicated answer as I have for you. Maybe I finally realized why everyone shot those fearful eyes in my direction. Maybe I finally understood why my family wanted to treat me to a hip, trendy, new restaurant. Maybe I began to understand that metabolically, waking up without hunger meant significant hormonal damage. Maybe I began to understand that 1200< calories a day was harming my tired body.

No one should have to skip out on 95% of their live (to attempt) to drop 5% of weight.  No one should have to suppress their hunger cues because society pleads that a “small appetite” is desireable. (BTW, did you ever notice how teenage boys during puberty are applauded by their hunger?? He’s a growing boy. BUT GIRLS APPETITES ARE SUPPOSED TO FEED A TINY NAKED MOLERAT??!)  

I encourage you to screw the diet culture, to disregard all of those people who question your plate of pasta. Your health is what truly matters. Your hormones. Your metabolism. Your pleasurable personality. Your enduring love for life.

Thats what makes you- YOU. Not a blueberry breakfast scone. Not a chipotle burrito. Not a salad assorted with the finest shreds of kale and spinach.

so please. let’s stop defining ourselves by “how much” or “how little” we eat; let’s start defining ourselves by how much we love ourselves.

~you were meant to consume food, food wasn’t meant to consume you~

Sincerely,

A girl mending her relationship w life again

Health?

Throw the world around and I’m sure we all have a similar point of view. Health is eating healthy. Health is exercising for x,y,z amount of hours. Health is taking those 10,000 steps a day. Health is maintaining a certain amount of calories. Every. Single. Day.

Gosh… our idea of health is so darn misconstrued. What if health isn’t any of those, but listening to your body + intuition.  The dictionary (the atypical google one) defines health as “the state of being free from illness or injury”. Ahh or *”the complete physical, mental, and social well-being” . an obsession of how we are supposed to look actually healthy?? By relying on a standard, robotic formula for our everyday eats, our every moment- well, that isn’t healthy.

You see, this isn’t health. This is an unhealthy obsession. Health isn’t just how many miles you ran or how many green juices you gulped down. Health is being at peace, at peace with your body.  Health is allowing yourself to be content with where you are at. Health is enjoying a conversation with friends and family. Health is yogaing, meditating, walking, sleeping, jogging. Health is not actually the definition that you + have come to know.

By accepting. Listening. Conversing with your body. Ask yourself, “am I lacking in physically, socially, mentally?”. What feels good to me? Usually the people who listen to their bodies + respect their body and mind are the “healthy” ones. That might mean engaging in exercise or partaking in crossfit. Because once we start listening to what our body wants (not Jennifer, or Stacy, Donna) our body tells us. Neato, right?

No standards and no special diet and no undiscovered voodoo magic. Our body ends up right where it’s supposed to be… that right there is the real magic. That is when we find true, uncut “health”. In the mean time, ditch that cookie cutter definition you once knew.

*found from the one and only Wikipedia

what do you do that makes you feel your best?

savor this.

Often times I notice that stupid, little, irrelevant things consume our thoughts. Whether it’s our stress about tomorrow or last year. We often forget about the moments that truly makes us-us. 

Wow. It’s all I can say. While walking and walking and more walking, I realized this: when we keep our heads down we forget about everything around us.

Hiking requires a lot of making sure you don’t twist your ankle or terribly fall on a pit of rocks. This means your head is down. Head down equals focus on the ground. BUT YOU MISS OUT ON EVERYTHING. Sure, you’re ankles are intact, but what about the trees. What about the sky.

This is pretty true about life itself.

This morning I went on a hike. After such a hectic week it’s nice to relax and enjoy (keyword enjoy) moments. I focused on breathing. Sounds. Scents.

The result? Everything was extraordinarily vivid.

I encourage you all to stop, wherever you may be + BREATH. Absorb all that goodness around you. Bring awareness to your senses; your senses come to life. You know what happens next? You. YOU. You feel alive just like those little buggers of senses.

Stop and actually enjoy your day. Sunday’s are all about self-care, as everyday should be… Take that hike you always wanted to do. Clean your room. Watch Netflix the entire day. As long as you are fulfilled. That’s all that matters.

Look up. Stop dwelling on the ground. There’s sooo soo sooo (did I say so?) much to look forward to. This Sunday, take extra notice in your surroundings. Trust me on this.

No matter what happens today. Or tomorrow. Or next year. Keep those breaths mindful and your heart delightful…. savor this.

welcome to my journey

dear fellow foodies and friends, you all are probably wondering why I made a blog… as I do myself. I’m hear to tell you why.

I have been fed up- literally and figuratively. At a young age, I have always tried to be a super hero. The one with wings… preferably pink. The one who tries to cure others ailments and issues. However recently, I’ve been needing a super hero of my own.  Well, I’m trying to be that super hero again. This time in myself; well, you too of course!!

However, social media has been sort of on my mind lately. The more I engage with social media, the more I question why. Why do I follow so many darn food accounts? Is there a subconscious reason as to why I care about what others nosh on for their brunch, breakfast, or midnight snack? The reason, as I just realized, relies within healing.

Food has always been that pal, a pal engrossed with an assortment of varieties, flavors, and colors. As you may know (or may not…) sometimes we lack that balanced relationship. I’m on that journey to find that steady + healthy balance. A balance between a chef salad,  vanilla + chocolate swirl ice cream, or Artic Zero.

So welcome. I hope to encourage you all with body positivity on the daily (or so I will try). As long as I am on this journey of balance with food, happiness, radiance- you are too. Follow along. Chime in. Sit down with some pop corn. Relax. I hope to find myself once again in this sweet, sweet life. A life filled with beauty and fellow sweet potatoes. Remember: I believe I can. I believe I yam.