Escape Strategy

Everyone needs an escape strategy. Whether it's something you have consciously constructed or your natural impulse, you should have one. How do you shed the rain cloud of loneliness? What do you do when you begin to feel blue? When you know that you have so much going for you, that you are in the place of your dreams and that you should enjoy it with its ups and downs equally. How do you remind yourself of your truth, of your reality, of your happiness?

We all just need to experiment and find an exit strategy out of that rain cloud. Maybe yours is to simply be sad, soak up all of the implications and complications of that feeling for a day, and then wring your body clean of the emotion like a damp rag. But dwelling in it doesn't work for me. Instead here are some of the strategies I've come up with to help get my mindset back on track.

1.)  Do you throw yourself deeper into your work? 

- Try this once. When your focus begins to get a bit foggy, when you are so distracted by the negatives that you enter a tunnel where your happiness is blurred in a circle around the tunnel vision, throw yourself into your passion. Your work.  Remind yourself why you do what you do, not just for the paycheck. Or perhaps your work is just for the paycheck. There's nothing wrong with that either. But throw yourself into whatever it is in your life that you look forward to doing. For me that's the music. When I hit that tunnel vision I eventually encounter a sign reminding me to follow the music. I refresh my practice schedule, remind myself why it is that I'm in this place. Why am I here, pursuing this elusive dream? Whatever that dream is, whatever your reasons are, renew your passion for it and see where that leads. 

2.) How about food. What do you eat? 

- This is key for me as well. As someone who can no longer deny the food sensitivities in her life, I can attest to the power of what we put in our bodies. Have you been living off of the same pasta dish? Oatmeal? Or are you mindlessly overindulging in the easily obtained snacks, salty treats, and sugary confections that lay in the discount aisle of the grocery store? Maybe you are eating healthy - but you eat the same hard boiled egg for breakfast each morning, the same chicken and vegetable lunch, followed by an identical pasta dish each night. Day after day. Sure, your wallet might be happy but are you? Try to reassess what you are putting into your body, ask yourself if this makes you happy (truly happy, not just in the moment pleased with the deliciousness of that cake but in the next moment feeling bloated and bogged down by the sugar). Don't mindlessly eat, think about why you want to put that food item in your belly. 

3.) You're feeling stressed or down? Let's have a girls night!

- It's the freaking weekend, I'll drink to that! Have you been letting your negative feelings manifest into late nights out drowning your worries in drinks? Maybe you're not getting black out drunk each night, maybe you're not what 'they' would call an alcoholic. But are you letting yourself focus on frivolous outings with friends and alcoholic beverages distract you from some truth that you are feeling? Be honest with yourself. Sometimes you do just need to lighten up and go out with friends, and sometimes you need to realize that you're not lightening up, rather that you are throwing on your rose tinted glasses and becoming numb to the truth for a little while. Honesty is always the policy. If you can't be honest with yourself about why you are drinking (or doing anything, for that matter) than how can you expect yourself to get out of this hard place? 

4.) It seems that 'they' say to exercise more... let's hit the gym!

- This is a biggie for me as well. Have you been ignoring your body? Please don't give me any of that Cartesian nonsense. I honestly believe that Descartes' mind-body dualism has radically changed the Western mindset in a negative and unhealthy way. You want to believe that the mind and the body are truly separate? Okay, tell me that next time you have a migraine so bad you are throwing up every few minutes and your vision is blurring and fading to black. Tell me how clear and concise your thoughts are then. No, instead of blindly following the man your intro to philosophy class heralded (I think therefore I am!) remind yourself that your body carries your mind. Maybe your negativity and pessimism is resulting from inactivity and decay. I'm 26 years old, am I done growing and starting to die already? Didn't I read that somewhere?! What am I going to do? Snap out of it. Go for a run, perfect a new yoga asana, hit a new PR in the gym, or maybe get into doing the aerial acrobatics that you've always secretly wanted to try. Why wait?

5.) Be honest with yourself. Have you started that journal yet? 

- One of the best habits I've made since moving abroad was beginning a journal. Journal - the adult word for diary. You can make it however you want. Maybe each morning you'll wake up and write one word, the first thought in your head. Or maybe you'll write exhaustively what happened to you each day. For me I like to write on the page when the thoughts in my head are so convoluted that I'm confused and uncertain about how I even feel. Just start writing, don't tell me you don't know what you want to say, trust me, you will. Sometimes we vent to our friends about a problem and then, before our friends can even respond, we realize that we have already discovered the solution. Give your friend a break once in a while and try to just hash it out on the page. Maybe you'll learn something new about yourself, your relationships, and your feelings. 

Feeling down, stressed, lonely, and unhappy is a natural and unavoidable aspect of being human. We are social creatures and sometimes we long for some sort of external approval or sign that we are on the right track. But I don't think we need to rely on others, I think we can find a way to remind ourselves every day that we are doing what is best for us. These are just some of the things that I like to focus on when I start to feel blue. Blue, my favorite color and also one of my favorite songs (check our Regina Spektor's Blue if you don't know it yet), and yet one of my least favorite emotional states. What metaphorical umbrella do you use to keep out of the rain?  

My German Adventure

On Friday afternoon I flew out of Korea, told the immigration office that I was never to return, handed in my Alien Registration Card, and began the 30 hour travel journey away. Included in that time was a 13 hour and 50 minute flight, my longest so far, and hopefully the last flight of that length that I will ever take.

Cut ahead to Saturday afternoon and you will find me in Stuttgart alive and well, with my luggage happily arriving at the same time, and my lovely boyfriend waiting at the gate for me. Stuttgart could not have started better. I spent two days getting to know my new city with my boyfriend, enjoying the fact that we now live on the same continent, going out for coffee, eating dinner together, and wondering aloud about the dramatic political protest and heavy handed Polizei presence throughout.

But alas, all good things must come to an end. With the arrival of Sunday evening I had to allow for the departure of Valentin. Waving goodbye from a train, although significantly easier than from separate sides of the security line at an airport, was still a harsh reminder of what is truly happening in my life right now. I have just moved to a new continent, to a new country and city in which I know no one. Even Valentin lives in a different country, three hours away by bus. I really am starting an entirely new life here.

Let me be the first to say that I love it here. I don't think this feeling is the manifestation of round one of culture shock: the honeymoon period. I think that I am aware of the difficulties, stress, and differences between this home, my last home, and my true home back in the states, and how this will profoundly impact me in the months to come. But I can say with honesty that this type of city, this type of country, this type of lifestyle? This is what I've been craving. Even for a city considered to be not nearly as beautiful as the other options in Germany, Stuttgart is lovely. Even with the weather bordering on foggy clouds, rain and sleet, and snow in the night, Stuttgart is welcoming.

I have no concerns about my family visiting here. I know they will love it. I can't wait for my friends to come see me, I know that we will have much to do. Centrally located between Germany, France, Switzerland, and even Italy to the south, Stuttgart is in the ideal location to jump around from country to country.

My first interview went well and I hope that this time next month I will be chronicling about my first few days of work. I'm meeting some people for coffee tomorrow morning who share similar interests and job titles, so maybe they will come to be friends. But I'm most excited about my bouldering technique course that begins on Thursday. Although it's quite expensive I've decided to commit to a 10 week women's only bouldering class. 5-6 women, 90 minutes a week, and one personal trainer. I can't wait to learn more about how to do the movements that are necessary for climbing. I can't wait to immerse myself in an athletic, adventurous, and encouraging world. I can't wait to push myself physically in a way that's reflective of how I am pushing myself emotionally and socially with this move.

There are so many things I'm realising that I want to do with my life. This happens to everyone, I'm sure. But there's something about moving to a new country that really helps you start over. Or so I'm told. All I know is that I'm feeling more optimistic than ever.

So begins my German adventure.

one foot in front of the other

When I flew home for my brother’s wedding in September I took the opportunity to replace some of my things. I brought a bunch of clothes from Busan that I never wore and in return I grabbed a huge stack of flute music, some pans and tea balls from my kitchen, some books, a pillow, and a few other miscellaneous items.

I also chose to bring some posters to put up in my new home, even though I knew I would only be here for a few more months. One is a replica of Van Gogh’s starry night – a beautiful blue poster featuring bold brush strokes and an unidentified couple near the river with a city landscape and starry sky on the horizon. It’s a poster I bought at a tumultuous personal time and it has always had a soothing effect on me. Continuing with this blue theme I brought back a piece of spray paint art that I bought on my first trip to New York. It is old and battered and may soon be thrown away, but it reminds me of the sense of excitement and energy I had for traveling, for being somewhere new and different. It reminds me of the first time I forsook a grim practicality with finances and chose to go out on a limb and buy a ticket for the experience, rather than pass it up for the financial stability.

The third poster is the most important one for me, as of late.

It's an image of an androgynous shadowy figure running through the woods at twilight with a quote from Carlos Castaneda stating: "We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves strong. The amount of work is the same."

I put it on the wall next to my music stand near the door. Every morning I walk by it as I prepare for the day. Every night I glance at it as I begin a practice session. It’s in front of me as I do yoga each day.

It’s my reminder that everyday should be a step forward. It doesn't have to be a huge leap, you can inch forward by choosing to do some small thing with a positive impact on your daily life, or you can charge forward with abandon and redefine who you are. But know that if you choose to do nothing, if you choose to dwell in some sense of stasis and lethargy, you are actively making yourself miserable. Even if it feels to you as if you are simply not actively bettering yourself, you are choosing to be in a way that does not resonate with who you are.

That’s not to say that you can’t take personal days, even from yourself. Sometimes we need time to recharge.

But each day we make a choice, strength or misery, forward or backward, yes or no.

For me, today was a small step. I drafted, edited, and submitted an application to a music school in Zurich. It was only one application. It was for a position that isn’t hiring and might not even look over my information and I had to sacrifice my flute time to do it.

But I can rest easy tonight knowing that there is one more chance for employment, one more opportunity for the future, thanks to that one hour of focused work.

I can approach my yoga mat feeling calm and ready to embrace this strength – a mental fortitude or optimism and effort that will easily transfer into the physical strength required for my yoga practice.

I can sleep with a sense of accomplishment rather than a pervasive sense of unease. For the little things are what make you feel that you have control. I am not a wait-er, I am a do-er and I attribute this fact to any success I’ve had up to this point. When I begin to feel stressed butterflies soaring in my stomach before going to sleep at night I know that something needs to happen.

Even if it’s a little thing. 

because nobody is perfect

It is kind of fascinating taking a step back and analyzing your mindset and reactions towards the world around you. These last two months have been so undeniably wonderful and satisfying that it is only natural for me to be falling into a bit of a slump now that I am back to work.

But this morning I allowed myself to dwell in a negative and unhappy attitude for much longer than I normally would let happen. Everything was bothering me. The people staring at their cell phones while walking and swerving into me all over the sidewalk, the businesses with irregular hours, the elderly women slamming into me as I wait for a bus, the guys on the bus taking up three quarters of the seat and pushing me into the window. The sun. The air. The traffic.

Everything. Grated. On. Me.

I wanted to leave. If I didn’t have this bit of credit card debt I might have. Book a one way ticket, end up somewhere you want to be, propel your career forward rather than staying in this slump. These were my thoughts. As if transporting myself from here to there would magically fix my attitude. As if Korea was the problem instead of my mindset.

As if I had no control over myself, my attitude, or my future while I was in this country.

Fortunately I was able to dislodge my head from the deep crevices of my body before I ruined my entire day.

The beauty of my life is that I am living abroad, I’m surrounded by a new culture, I’m working with awesome, strange, and sometimes overwhelming schools, teachers, and students. I’m doing something that, although I don’t intend to do forever, I am able to find happiness and joy in. And I am also able to look forward to the future and move myself in a direction I can be proud of.

Sometimes all I want is to let myself dwell in negativity and unhappiness. Wishing I were somewhere else, wishing I was doing something else, wishing for something other than I have, regardless of what it is. But this is such a wasted energy and ambition because when I am in that magical “other place” I am going to have the same bad days, the same mornings waking up on the wrong side of the bed and slamming my head against the wall, the same unhappiness. What matters is how I turn those days around.

If my experiences here were really terrible, if nothing made me happy and I had no reason to stay - I would not hesitate to hop on a plane. If I found something else that I wanted to do, something that was more focused on me and my dreams and passions I would take less than two hours to pack all of my things and be out of this country. If there was no reason for me to stay then I would be gone.

But there are so many reasons for me to be where I am. Even if sometimes that reason is simply to remind myself that I don’t need to live an ideal, utopian life in order to be happy, or to tell myself that I can keep my focus and passion moving forward regardless of personal circumstances. There are so many reasons for me to be where I am.

Sometimes I just need to tell myself to be happy and yes, it’s as simple as that.

But it helps when some of your classes are cancelled and your students are all taking a giant ballet lesson in the auditorium. Really, Korea? Sometimes you know exactly how to make my day.

long tones are like spot shots

As a graduate student studying flute performance I don’t have a lot of time for, well, anything. Taking three classes, working on my thesis, helping teach four classes, building up a studio, and the never-ending stream of rehearsals, practicing, and audition prep, all combines together to create a busy and hectic lifestyle. But despite all of this, and the constant needs of sleep, food, and gym time, I still manage to find the time to play pool, to work on my game, to watch matches and learn more about the sport.

But why? How do you balance out these two passions that take so much time? What do I get out of pool in the world of music, and how does music help my pool game? Because it is not a parasitic relationship- studying the flute doesn’t not directly impede my pool game and vice versa. There are so many commonalities between the structures of both activities that doing one directly affect the other.

Long tones are like spot shots.

When I’m in my office playing long tones it’s really easy for my mind to wonder, my focus to leave, and my work ethic to lag. Who cares if that Eb doesn’t sound as clear as the D or C below it? Why does it matter? Well it matters because of the level I’m at, if I want to make a living off of music than it is the little things like this that I need to focus on. Miniscule little elements of music that the average listener wouldn’t even regard or notice are the focus of intense hours of repetition in the practice room. I like to start my flute sessions with these long tones, to remind myself of how to play each note on the instrument, where to place the air stream, and how to keep the notes sounding good. Sometimes I wander and don’t want to do that, but then I remind myself of the spont shots that I love to start my pool sessions off with. I place a ball (usually the 9 or 8 ball, or 10 ball—depending one what game I’m focusing on that day) on the spot, put the cue one diamond in on the short rail and two diamonds up on the long rail and shoot the target ball into the corner. I alternate from each side of the table in groups of 5, and don’t stop until I’ve made the shot and put the cue where I wanted it 5/5 times on each side three times. But after shooting this shot so many times what’s the point, there are harder shots for me to focus on. I use the spot shot to remind myself how to stroke, I focus on any hitches in my stroke, I analyze my bridge, I check in on my stance and my shoulders, all of the little things that need to stay the same for every shot I make sure are the same on every spot shot. Just like I want my Eb to sound the same as my C, I want my stroke on that tight cut to be the same as on my bank. I’m new to pool, so maybe that isn’t necessarily what the pros want, but it’s what I want. When I keep my stroke long and even I make shots more consistently and with more ease than when I worry and chop the shot.

Practice is practice and it means intelligent, focused work:

Anyone can sit down, or stand up, in a small room and play the flute for three hours every day. It’s really just a matter of scheduling that time and going to the room. But not everyone uses that time wisely. Rather than running every piece from start to finish, the acute musician will focus on the elements of their sound, technique, and repertoire that they are struggling with. They will run long tones for hours evening out their tone, play every single type of scale at every possible rhythm and articulation, they will do breathing exercises and work out, all before even looking at their repertoire. The savvy musicians understands that it’s not a matter of playing each individual piece of music thousands of time, but rather of playing the scales, long tones, and articulation exercises that are applied to all different pieces of music. If you know scales then you know that section of your piece where the flute is just playing broken thirds of a major scale. It’s the same with pool, pattern play is important (running the rack), but first you need to be able to do a spot shot. You need to have a good stance, an even stroke, and a good eye. Practicing the individual shots that you struggle with and that constantly come up in your game is like practicing scales, it’s a mindset of work on miniscule elements of the game and of the instrument. I would never have played pool like this if I wasn’t first and foremost a musician.

You only live once, time:

It doesn’t matter how focused your practice time is, you need to put in the time itself. Pool and music both require consistent work, daily practice, and lots of it. You can’t skip a day of music and expect to pick up your flute sounding the same as you did before the break. It’s unfortunate. I always hoped that when I got better I could take time off and still come back to the same level as before, but it’s the other way around. The more finesse and sophistication there is to your sound the more you need to work every day to keep it. It’s the same with pool, as I build up my cue control, my speed control, and my pattern play, I find that skipping a few weekdays really pushes me back to square one again. Music is no fickle mistress, and pool is just as demanding. But there are 24 hours in a day and 7 days in a week, one can schedule the time in if one wants to. Flute practice takes up three hours of my day, pool takes one to two, and everything else fits in that 19-20 hour time period of consciousness. When I finish my masters degree I will have more time for pool, but until then it gets the backburner, as far as time goes at the table.

But the time I spend in the practice room and the time I spend in the pool hall build off of each other: my music focus alters my pool focus, the joy I get from pool has been reflected in the joy I get from the flute, the work ethic, time, focus, and dedication from both parts of me have grown to a feverish pitch and I will continue to work on both pool and music.

Being a musician does not mean I can’t be a pool player, and shooting pool does not detract from my role as a musician. With a little energy and focus I have been able to do both, so far, and we’ll see where it takes me in the future.

How refreshing this optimism is!

A new year!

It’s amazing how different things have been this year compared to last year. I’m at the same school, studying with the same professors, and focusing on the same things: music and pool. But yet things couldn’t be more different, new friends, roommates, and colleagues. Combine that with a new work ethic and renewed focus and passion and this year can’t be any more different from the last. I am disappointed in myself for letting last year decay into the awful musical, personal, and emotional hellhole that it gradually descended into, but I can’t change how things were in the past—al I can do is look forward.

And damn, does looking forward feel good. I still have no idea where I will be next year, although there are some faint outlines of potential living situations coming to at the edge of my vision, but I’m still learning how to revel in this open-ended freedom. Friends and family continue to tell me that things will work out, that if I work hard and just keep doing what I do something will happen, and I’m starting to believe them. So much can happen in just one short year and the only way to let good things happen is to leave a space open in your life for new experiences to fill. In the past this space felt like a void, a black hole that desperately needed to be occupied by something, anything. But I’m realizing now these aren’t negative spaces, they aren’t terrible things to be avoided, but rather they are opportunities, openings for future endeavors. This does not imply freedom and empty time, the space isn’t temporal as this is the busiest year of my life so far. It’s a mindset, a thought process, and a willingness to say ‘yes’ to something new and different.

Who knows where I will wind up when I’m open to going somewhere new.

Boom.

Looking ahead

Everybody that I have told about my upcoming trip to Rome has asked me if I’m nervous, excited, or worried about travelling alone. They are all excited for me; they have all said that they will be thinking about me and that I should be careful while I’m gone. And all I’ve been able to say is that I’m super excited about it, that it’s going to be the adventure of a lifetime, and that of course I will be careful. I’ve got a good head on my shoulders, I’ll be fine meeting new people, and everything else that I can think to say to make them feel better. All the while I’m standing there thinking about how I should feel more excited, or how my nerves should be eating at me. Maybe I should be more stressed out, or maybe I should be more worried about travelling alone. But honestly it still doesn’t feel real. This trip of mine. I’ve known about it since October and it’s always been one of those trips in the future, at the back of my mind, sort of things that always has a surreal quality. But now it’s becoming reality, I really am hopping on a plane on Friday and flying across the world. And it’s starting to sink in. And damn am I getting excited!

I’ve been assigned to play the second flute part for Haydn’s London Trio for two flutes and bassoon, a piece that will be played five or six times while I’m there. The repertoire that the symphony will be playing includes Mendelssohn’s Fourth Symphony, Debussy’s Afternoon of a Faun, two different Beethoven symphonies, and a handful of other pieces. There are dozens of different opera scenes and arias that we will be playing, including portions of La Traviata, Bizet’s Carmen, and Mozart’s Magic Flute. Although I won’t be playing for all of these performances, I was signed on as a section flute—which essentially means that I will be rotated in to different parts throughout the festival—I will be there for all of the performances. I’m excited about all the cultural expeditions that will be happening, and damn straight I’m going to go to all of them. Regardless of how late I was out the night before I will be up at 7 to go check out all that Rome has to offer. Even if it’s not considered the “cool” thing to do, many of my colleagues will be from Italy why would they want to bother going on these trips if that’s where they are from? Well I’m American, from a small town in Minnesota, and I will be immersing myself in every element of Roman culture that I possibly can while I’m gone.

I keep joking about how maybe I’ll find a job and stay out there. Maybe I’ll find a professional opportunity, a paid gig, that I can’t turn down and I’ll become an expatriate. I’ve been considering applying for a Fulbright to study abroad in England after I finish my masters here in America to get a performers certificate from a European school. Although I feel burnt out now, tired of school, looking for a change, something new and exciting to do beyond music. I have a feeling that if I were to go abroad for my next level of schooling that cultural change alone my reignite my passion for music. But that seems like a big gamble. This is where the Rome Festival comes in, if I fall in love with the attitude abroad, with the musicians and maestro(a)’s, and the culture maybe I will stick it out there for a few more years to see where life takes me.

Who knows, that seems to be the theme of this blog (and my life) lately. I’m starting my 23^rd year of life with my biggest adventure yet, who knows what will happen in the next few years? And who wants to. Really. I’m just going to keep living my life and seeing where it takes me. It’s been working out pretty well so far.  

Blowing in the Wind

How do you keep yourself grounded when you’re being torn apart from all directions by gusts of wind? When the wind starts to blow from one direction, forcing you to lean into it, work with it, and move on—just to suddenly change directions and push you from behind flat on your face. How do you build up the strength to fly when the air patterns are chaos, when the wind is howling and fierce, and you’re afraid to hit the ground?

I seem to have an attraction for windy places. My undergrad years were spent on the plains of Moorhead MN (read: Fargo, ND) where the extreme temperatures were matched only by the even more extreme wind. Grad school in Wyoming means that not much has changed, although it is a bit warmer here. I reach out to these places as places of personal growth and professional development. Why can’t I live somewhere temperate, normalized, and predictable?

I’ve always lived my life according to some sort of “plan,” tying my dreams and ambitions down to a metaphorical rock, holding on to them for dear life. It’s as if I was afraid that the wind from outside would tear apart my inner ambitions. As if letting myself go beyond the self-imposed confines of my mind would blow away all that I am, leaving a lifeless shell in the place of me. Whether I was tied down to a relationship, invested in my studies, or was simply narrow-minded in my scope and ambition, I’ve spent the vast majority of my life with blinders on. 

Tunnel vision.

But now, as a grad student studying music performance, I’m realizing that you can’t live life this way. One does not simply walk through life on the golden road of a perfect life plan and stick with it for the entirety of the journey. Rather, perhaps it is I who cannot simply do this. Every time I set a plan something happens that makes me want to change it. Life is open-ended for all of us; we walk through life creating our own narrative. That’s all that needs to be said about it. If you tell yourself that you are a good person, a dedicated student, a passionate lover, and a reliable friend, you will act the part and it will eventually be so. If you’ve ever read the books of Patrick Rothfuss then you know what I’m talking about, Kvothe went through life telling everyone around him he was a hero and acting the part. Eventually the act becomes the reality and what had earlier began as a rumor is now a truth.

It is all a matter of how we handle this open-endedness. Do we become an agoraphobic in terms of our lives? Do we fear the vast amount of possibilities that are constantly available; shunning them all in favor of the restricted life path we have set for ourselves?

I was a closet agoraphobic. I limited my perspective on life to only include music, opening it slightly to include philosophy and then slamming that door shut just as quickly. I decided upon grad school, moving away with my boyfriend and planning out the next five years of my life in advance. But then I arrived here, and somewhere along the line I let the wind into my heart and it has blown me away. 

I made the leap away from the comfortable and broke up with my boyfriend. Leaving solitude behind I started seeking adventures in new places alone and with new friends, I’ve met more awesome people and had more fun life experiences in the last few months then I had had in the past few years. And this is no ones fault but my own. I do not blame the men I loved for limiting my life perspective, I do not blame the professors that encouraged me one way or another, and I do not blame my family or friends, it was merely myself that decided to live that way, and I carry the blame. I was the one afraid to go somewhere new alone, I was the one that decided early on to throw myself head first into a career path with little to no hesitation and thought that it might now be right for me. I was the one who got myself to where I am today and I’m pretty damn glad that I was that person, because I am happy where I am. 

I know now that one cannot go through life in the negative, one cannot say "no" to everything. I'm old enough to know the consequences, whether financially, educationally, or whatever, but I'm also young enough not to say "no" anymore. If I have the opportunity to feed my soul with something new I will gladly do so, whether that means more time in new places playing pool with friends and soon-to-be-friends, or whether it means travelling half-way across the continent to immerse myself in music, I will do it gladly. 

The wind is unpredictable and that’s just something you have to deal with. Trusting that your wings are strong and your eyes are good, you just need to fly away. Sometimes you will crash and burn, but you will keep flying because flying is in your heart, it is a part of you. Every time you cross that hill, fly through that valley, and soar into the sky, your heart lifts and you are happy. Fearing the next crash, worrying about yesterdays weather, and avoiding flight for the safety of the ground is not the way to live, it is not who you are. You are strong, you are unique, and you will make it—no matter how the wind tries to stop you and hold you back. 

Adventure Time in Saratoga, WY

Pool has always been a pretty large part of my life: I grew up playing in bars while my mom worked and while my family just hung out downtown (small towns allow small children into their small bars). I distinctly remember playing pool with my first crush, barely able to see over the table, and the joy I had in winning the “game,” (Although let’s be honest, it was not a legitimate game of pool, throwing the balls around and hitting at them with bar sticks). In high school I participated in leagues, we lied about my age so that I could play in different bars around town on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights (15 to 18 isn’t that big of a difference, right?) and I played in countless different bar tournaments. I bought my first intermediate flute with money from pool tournaments and I played pool every night from as soon as the bus dropped me off at the bar until I went to bed. Pool permeated my life in a way that didn’t negatively affect my school, music, or sports. I somehow managed to do it all while playing ridiculous amounts of pool around town.

Unfortunately my undergraduate degree brought on insane amounts of practice with the flute: rehearsals, concerts, and classes. Studying both music and philosophy I rarely had the time to go to the gym and eat food, much less go to a bar to throw down some money and play some pool. So for years I took a pool hiatus 9 months out of the year.

It was awful.

But then I moved to Laramie to pursue a graduate degree in flute performance. It was here that I saw a sign for a pool tournament on campus, a tournament I enthusiastically signed up. Things weren’t going well between my then-boyfriend and me and I needed to do something that reminded me of who I was. This tournament was it. I later learned that it was a regional qualifier, the very same tournament that brought me to the ACUI regionals in Salt Lake City where I finished undefeated as the number one seed for nationals. Pool made a sudden, unexpected comeback into my life and I have shamelessly embraced it. Now I play in weekly tournaments here in Laramie, sometimes traveling down to Fort Collins for the tougher competition and the better tables. I have been watching professional matches on YouTube in between practicing the flute at school and at night while I wind down from the day with a glass of wine. So it’s not surprising that I have been jumping at the opportunity to travel to see the pro’s play and to test myself against better competition.

My first trip of this sort happened on March 23^rd when I drove down to the Denver pool hall Felt to see Nick Varner and Thorsten Hohmann play, with the intentions of playing in the 8-ball barbox tournament. Unfortunately due to the weather I showed up too late for the tournament to work out, but watching Nick and Thorsten play and hearing what they had to say about pool got me even more excited about the sport. There’s just something about watching a live match over a YouTube match that is just super exciting.

Which brings us to this last weekend. Oddly enough the University of Wyoming had Good Friday off for an Easter break, which turned out to be a convenient day off for me as a pool fan! I had known about the sixth annual Platte Valley Open pool tournament in Saratoga for a while, but I decided at the last minute that I wanted to shoot in the tournament. The final draw was hearing that Shane Van Boening was going to be there, because Shane is the pool player of my dreams right now. I have watched almost every one of his matches on YouTube and am always on the lookout for new matches of his online—whether nine ball, ten ball, barbox or large table, straight pool, anything. So hearing that he was going to be shooting pool at a place that was mere hours from my apartment was enough to get me to hop in my car and drive. I decided to try my hand at the Classic division and somehow managed to get in. With a $100 entrance fee, a $120 motel room fee, $30 for gas, and money for food and drinks, I was definitely stretching my financial situation for this tournament. And it was so worth it.

Although I lost my first match to Richard Case, a man that I would later become friends with, my first day in Saratoga was amazing. I was there with my buddies Scott Maloney and Delilah Ye Feng, and was in the midst of cheering on Scott when I heard that Shane Van Boening and Rodney Morris were in the finals of a mini-day tournament at the local bar, Duke’s. I shamelessly bailed on Scott to go watch the match. Shane and Rodney were playing a strange hybrid of 8-ball and 9-ball that EJ had devised solely for this tournament and that I had never seen before. So, unsurprisingly, I stood by a fellow pool player and struck about a conversation about the ball colors and the numbers. You see, for this Saratoga game (that’s what they dubbed this unique hybrid) the numbers 1-6, 7-12, and 13 were used, omitting the 14 and 15 balls—and the numbers did not match up to the typical ball numbers. 1 in normal pool is yellow, 1 in this game was green, and etc. So I asked the fellow next to me which was which and we started chatting (I think the ball colors matched up with snooker ball colors, but I’m still not sure).

After the match was over I kept chatting with the same pool player until an acquaintance of mine from Laramie wandered over and challenged me to a game. I didn’t want to be rude to my new friend, Jim Calderon, and just go play with this other guy, but he waved me ahead so I played a game. I won the match after playing much better then I had in my match earlier that night. Typical. I always shoot better in the hours after a tournament. It was then that Jim seemed to take an interest in my playing and he and I started shooting against each other.

Over the course of the next few days I learned more about my game from Jim then I have from any one other player. Because you see I never had a coach or anything like that. Nobody decided to teach me pool; I simply picked it up and worked it out. I’m always complimented on my stroke, which is long and even, and lately as I have been entering the pool world I’ve had a few people ask who taught me. But I can’t really say, so I say I taught myself. That’s why playing with Jim was a fresh new experience for me—he gave me good advice about my bridge hand, he questioned my shot choices, forced me to think about my leave, had me re-do shots that I missed until I got it, and just in general helped me out a lot with game. But not in an obnoxious way; instead we just played pool, sometimes I won, sometimes he won, and he corrected any problems that came up.

You might ask yourself why I, a young 22 year old girl, would drive to the middle of nowhere to watch pool, play pool, watch more pool, and then play pool until 3 a.m. and then 6 a.m. the next day. And honestly, all I can say is that you aren’t a pool player if you have to ask that question.

Despite only winning one match in my division, and honestly shooting pretty awful pool on my part, I am so glad that I went out to Saratoga. On Saturday I started playing pool at 10:30, took a brief break around noon to get a new tip on my cue, started up again at 1, and played until 4 when I then went and watched matches until midnight. After midnight I went straight back to the bar and proceeded to play with Jim until 6 in the morning. The only thing sending me to bed was the knowledge that I had to wake up at 10 a.m. to check out of my sketchy motel; otherwise I would have kept playing all night long. I watched Shane Van Boening and Rodney Morris battle once each day of my elongated weekend, I watched Raj Hundal, Stevie Moore and countless others play. I played for so many hours that I honestly couldn’t even tally them up. And I got to meet tons of people who were passionate about pool as well.

Many of these people were people like Jim, players in the Master’s division who seemed surprised at my passion for pool and my insatiable appetite for the sport. I learned their names (promptly forgetting most of them, unfortunately, I have a terrible memory for names), watched them shoot, and talked to them afterwards. I watched matches with them and talked about how when I watch a pro match I like to hypothetically run the table in my mind—picking a pattern of balls (1-3-5-4-2-6-7-8 for example) imagining what my cue control would be—and then I would compare that to what the player did. One player in particular would ask me at each table what I would do, or in the middle of a table how I would fix a problem ball or etc., and I was always proud when Shane or Rodney would do exactly what I said I would do. Hypothetically of course, I can see the shots, but I am working on the cue control to make them happen. But honestly, just being able to predicate the shots of a champion like Shane Van Boening really makes me feel good about my future in the sport.

I am excited to play in future tournaments, I am excited about the prospect of practicing and bettering my game, and I am excited about where I could be in the next few years. The power of youth is infectious and this is the first time I have noticed it: at 22 years old, I can do anything I want with my life, I have a long time to live it, and the open ended nature of it that I have bemoaned in the past finally feels liberating and exciting. I can honestly say that I hope to make something of my pool playing while also working on my music. Maybe someday I can gig at pool halls with a jazz combo and play in tournaments on the side.

That would be a good life. 

Salsa

Today I made salsa. Not just any salsa, but the homemade salsa recipe that my mom has perfected over the years. However, I did add a few unique touches: i.e. jalapenos and spicy taco sauce! It was and/is some of the best salsa I have had in a long time and greatly surpasses Applebees’ recipe. (Which means that I get to save some money this week by not going to get half off apps after nine.). Salsa is surprisingly healthy- my recipe is straight up just tomatoes, peppers, onion, and cilantro. Veggies and more veggies. Unfortunately I don’t have a food processor so it’s usually quite chunky, until today when I realized I could throw it all in my blender. Which was quite successful, might I add.

This is a good reminder to me about what I eat and why I eat. Obviously one eats to give the body sustenance and to enjoy the flavor. But I’ve recently been thinking more about how what I eat makes me feel. Ever since I was a small child I have been plagued with migraines, and from a very young age I was told to be very careful and aware of what I was eating. Because for me my migraines are triggered by food—too much dairy, too much candy, too much protein, too much happiness. It seemed to me that everything I ate was a “trigger” and that there was no way I could give it all up, so instead I simply continued to eat what I wanted to eat, when I wanted to eat it. Flash forward a few years and you will see that my migraines never got any better, although I got a bit better at functioning when they struck (minus the vomiting part, you can never really get good at that).

Recently though I have realized something. Something I probably should have realized a long time ago, but alas…I’m a slow learner. When I eat a healthy amount of food and am very careful about what I put inside of my body, I can splurge on candy and treats—all the things I’ve always eaten, but now can eat without succumbing to the migraines of doom. If I haven’t eaten breakfast and I have a pop tart for lunch (something that happens at school sometimes), I can expect a full blown migraine by the end of the day. Even if I eat some healthy food after the treat, my body will just shut down on me.

So lets flash-forward to today. I have been lifting weights and working out three days a week and I have been focusing on what I eat. Not because of some new years resolution, not because I hate my body, and not because I am trying to look like what society expects a woman to look like. Instead I have been eating healthy because, shocker, doing so makes my body feel better. I have been lifting weights because I want to be strong, confident, and I want to feel good about my body. Sure my body has been changing, and I’m not going to lie, I think it has been changing for the better, but that doesn’t mean I will reach some sort of goal down the road and quit lifting. I lift three times a week because that gives me three times to add more weight to the bar, to pull myself up higher, and to squat a little bit lower. My self-esteem has shot through the roof and I’m noticing changes in my body that I never would have noticed had I resigned myself to mindless cardio for the rest of my life. (Not that cardio is a bad form of exercise, in fact I can’t wait to start running outside again, but rather cardio was never effective for me to make me feel good about my body and myself).

If only I had realized sooner that in order to feel better about myself I simply needed to alter the way I treated myself. It seems like such an obvious solution but it has evaded me from twenty-two years. Luckily I have a full life ahead of me, one that I will fully enjoy after finally realizing how to reach my full potential.