Some of the Best Advice I've Ever Received

My mom has this phrase that she uses all the time--they use it when things are confusing, when things are up in the air, when things are exciting but also maybe too exciting--and it is some of the best advice I've ever gotten:

Let it be hot.

Think about it like a hot, delicious coffee you are just dying to enjoy. You know it is too hot, the coffee itself knows it too hot, but you drink it anyway and you end up singeing your tongue and regretting that choice all day long. Instead, what you should do is just let it be hot.

In other words, let the situation be what it is for a while before you go rushing into changing it or dealing with it and end up with a burned tongue. Sometimes there are things that you just can't fix or alter so you just have to let them be for a while. It is an incredibly hard lesson to learn and one that I've been grappling with for a while, but I'm working on it day by day.

Just let the situation be hot. It'll cool down when it's time.

Teams

There is a part of my personality, part of my thought processes, that is...obsessive. Once I get hooked on an idea I tend to replay it over and over again until I've seen it from every angle, until I've experienced the entire range of emotions that could be associated with it. Maybe it is more of an inquisitive mind thing, that I really want to fully understand something, even if that something can't be rationalized or fully understood. Either way, I'm sure it makes me a less fun roommate/friend because I just won't stop talking about something until I really get it. And that's when the people on my team step in, because they are the best.

I have to process things out loud. I have to hear other opinions and talk about my opinions, even if I am forming them in the split second before I voice them. My saintly mother knows all about this--I tend to call her multiple times over a series of days to talk through a problem or to make a plan. There is something about not only turning things over in my head but also testing them out on another person that helps me come to understand them.

My roommates (who are the best, you guys. THE BEST) have been dealing with this for the past day and a half (sorry, ladies). I've been obsessing about new information gleamed from the internet (which is, admittedly, not always a reliable source), examining it from every cringe-worthy angle, gaging advice and my own feelings by talking about it non-stop with them (and Kyla isn't even home, I've been texting her long tomes on the subject like a crazy person). They are two of the most intelligent, kick-ass gals I know and their advice is not only spot on but incredibly kind and super helpful. They listen to my ranting, spinning thought process with patience and then delicately (or not, which is the mark of a true friend I think) point out things I would have never seen on my own. I feel incredibly grateful to call them my friends and to have them in my corner, even if my corner sometimes feels a little Howard Hughes obsessive compulsive (minus the bottles of pee, I promise).

I hope everyone has people on their team, on their side, like the ones I have--ones that are kind and direct and intelligent and funny and caring and sage and ass kickers from way back. People who will tell you things you don't want to hear, and listen when you need to rant, and laugh at you for being crazy, and tell you it's going to be fine when you can't process anything else. It is truly a stroke of luck  that the people on my team are as tremendous as they are. So, to my people, you know who you are. And you are the best. Thanks for keeping my head on straight and telling me when I'm obsessing like a crazy person. You don't know how much I depend on your thoughts and opinions. I would be nowhere without you. I promise to do my best to be as good a team member for you as you are to me.

On Choices and What I've Learned at 25

Lately I've been thinking a lot about choices. What sorts of choices, you ask? I've been thinking about the little choices we make every day that point us in a certain direction. These decisions are, perhaps, the most important choices we ever make and often times we make them without thinking. We just move towards what feels right and then reflect on it later. At least this is how I've tried to moved through the world.

I don't know that when I left college I had a plan. Oh, wait, yes I did. My plan had two main points on it, "Pay off Student Loans" and "Don't Be a Burden." With these "goals" in mind I moved forward, seizing opportunities as they arose and letting other things move past me. To say there was a lot of choice in the things I decided to do is...generous. I was asked to return to my same summer gig after college. I pursued and then took the only internship I was interested in in the Bay Area.  When the opportunity to work for money at the internship I said "hell yes." When the opportunity to join the company full time came up, I simply nodded my head and signed my name.  Even the promotion I got 6 months in was more of a "Ashleigh isn't a crazy person and she's heard of this job before" thing than a "she's completely qualified" thing. YES, I could have said no at any point and SURE, if I hadn't pursued the position I wouldn't have ended up here but still, all of these decisions, at the time, felt like no brainers. I don't think I even took the necessary mental time to make a pro/con list. I just said yes. And in no time, it seems, my plan was moving me towards something, something I couldn't truly conceive of (and still can't, to be honest).

When the opportunity came up to move to New York, I think I literally said to my mom, "I kind of have to do this, right?" "Duh," she said to me. So I let myself be open, be free to allow for any possibility and free to say yes. And when I did that, a wide sea of things I never even imagined appeared before me. Jobs and adventures and friendship and a myriad of exciting, hard, lovely, terrifying things.

On a recent episode short of RadioLab, my favorite podcast, they were talking about the "Slinky Theory" which is basically this (from the RadioLab website):

"1) Dangle a Slinky above the ground as though you were holding a fish by the tip of its tail.
2) Let it extend to its full length.
3) Let go.

For a fraction of a second, something amazing happens: the bottom of the slinky hovers midair, seeming to defy the laws of physics, while the top collapses toward it.

The reason the bottom just floats there, according to Steve Strogatz, is simple: it hasn't gotten the memo yet."

There is so much more to this theory that I'm probably going to do it a disservice by simplifying it here, but basically the slinky theory says that when you let go and the bottom floats there it is because, for a split second, it doesn't know that you let go of the top. And when I say know I mean know. The cells in the slinky literally haven't gotten that information yet. Crazy, right? But awesome. Totally awesome, in the truest sense of the word.

When it comes to choices and paths, we are the slinky. We don't know what we don't know because we haven't learned it yet, because we can't know it until we know it (what a sentence). So why stress about the future? Whatever is coming for you, whether it is positive or negative, exciting or boring, whatever is out there is coming towards you no matter what you do. Therefore, you can only worry about the choices you make in the present because those are the only things you have control over. You can't know how they are going to effect the future because you can't see the future. You only know that you are the end of the slinky at rest. You have no idea that your ass is literally about to be handed to you.

Even now, just a few months into my 25th year, I already know that this is the most important thing I'm going to learn this year. Because it is about living in the moment, being present, and embracing your own intelligence regarding your own life. It's about trust. Trusting yourself and trusting the universe. Because the universe always has your back, even when you don't think it does. You just have to be open to seeing what it has to offer.

The 1st (well, 2nd) Day of the Rest of My Life

I had this moment walking home yesterday from my first day at my new job, this moment where I actually stepped away from my physical body and hovered over myself, taking the entire scene in and feeling completely astonished.  Because at 24 (and a half, but who's counting), yesterday was the first day of my adult life or, to be more specific, my life as an adult on my own.  I am 3000 miles away from my dear parents and beginning to do things totally (mostly) on my own for the first time.  Yesterday was literally the first day of the rest of my life.

I can't say that I've dreamt of this moment my whole life because really, I didn't ever think of this moment specifically before last night, but it seems like something one should dream about--the day when you are on your own for reals, the day when you become responsible for you entirely.  Don't misunderstand me, my parents haven't tossed me off completely, they are still helping me until my first paycheck comes in (ok, maybe until the 2nd comes in.  They are the best).  But once that happens, it is Ashleigh responsibility time.  And you know what? Even though that is completely terrifying, it is also super exciting.  I've sort of been waiting for this time in my life for a while, ever since graduating from college in fact.  And even though right now it feels a little bit like I'm just visiting New York for funsies, I know that feeling is going to go away soon (or at least diminish).  Things are finally starting to take shape for me in this city that I love and I sort of can't believe it.  I get to do so many lovely and fun things here in New York, which include but aren't limited to-: 1) live in my favorite city, 2) work in my field doing something I actually believe in and enjoy, 3) play guitar for tiny people on a regular basis (starting next week!), 4) see my beautiful college friends whenever I can/want, 5) eat all the yummy food New York City has to offer.  My dear friend Kyle said it best: what an amazing time to be alive and living in New York City.

I've mentioned it before (at least twice), but during college I would walk around the city and be stopped dead in my tracks because I realized, "I live here.  I can't believe it."  It still happens and every time I get the same tingle down my spine and smile across my face.  I feel constantly elated that I get to live my life in the place of my dreams every single day.  How many people get to say that?  And sometimes when I feel that familiar smile start to cross my face I fast forward 20 or 30 years into the future and I look back at this time on my life and I feel incredibly blessed and grateful, saying to myself (and my future family), "How lucky was I that I got to be young and alive in New York City at such a time? Isn't that amazing?!  Let me tell you, future as-yet-unnamed-child-of-mine, it was amazing to me even then." (this is totally true and a totally unweird conversation to imagine, by the way).

Being able to consult with my future self is sort of a new thing and I assume comes from getting older.  I swear, I just had this moment about a year ago while, I believe, I was watching an episode Bones that I suddenly became aware of how fragile and imminent the end is.  Now, I know that this sounds a) like something some sort of paranoid hypochondriac would say and b) a little overly dramatic, but it is true.  For some reason, on this day, sitting on the couch alone in my parents living room, I realized that, at some point, I will no longer exist.  And while the crushing weight of this terrifying realization washed over me, I was met with what is probably the most comforting image that has ever come to my mind.  It was of me, a very old and crimpy and completely content grey-haired lady, laying in a bed at the end, surrounded by my family.  And I concede that this image is likely something I've constructed out of scenes from movies and television shows, but I none the less was calmed by it.  Because it seemed to mean that there was something out there for me, something I was and have always been driving towards--a life. A full, beautiful, exciting life.  And every choice that I make is leading me towards that moment and all the moments before it.  What a fantastic and transcendent thought, ay?  I am learning to accepted that every step of my journey to that image is taking me exactly where I need to go and teaching me what I need to learn, even if I often have no idea what I'm going or where I am going.  The not knowing is half the fun, right?  Truthfully, I don't know if I completely agree with that statement but I am learning to be ok with it and allow for the possibility that it might be true.

So here I am, on the 2nd day of the rest of my life, journey yet to be written, but knowing a beautiful and satisfying destination lies just beyond it.  Not too shabby for a Wednesday, I'd say. Not too shabby at all.

Today I laughed Until I Cried.

At a video of an MIT professor drawing lines on a chalkboard.  My GOD do I wish I was kidding.  Alas, I am not.  It appears I have cabin fever and it is going to my head.  My bedroom in Brooklyn lacks a window, which usually wouldn't be a problem but when you spend the majority of your time at home, the walls start to close in and everything begins to get very...intense.  Sounds become louder, lights become brighter, and silliness becomes even sillier.  Normally I would combat this with some good ol' fashioned walking around, but it is pouring outside so my options are limited.  Until the rains let up I'm confined to the house, looking at pictures from my walk a few days ago and dreamin' of clear skies.

Seriously though, how crazy is this view? This is two blocks from my apartment. Magical.

New York City is a Beautiful Place

View from Central Park

Sometimes I am just floored by how absolutely beautiful New York City is. There were lots of times during college (ok, let's not lie to ourselves, it still happens) that I would be walking around and I would be completely overwhelmed by the things I was seeing.  I think that I've dreamt about New York for so long and so often that at some point between me knowing that it was a place (we're talking 2nd or 3rd grade) and living here (and now moving here!) it became this mythical place in my mind.  Like you'd have to cross a rainbow bridge or battle a troll to get to it.  And yet somewhere in my dreaming I ended up here.  And that is something I am grateful for every day.

On Endings and Beginnings

The summer has officially ended for me.  No more camp or conservatory, no more running after kids or ignoring the mountain of work behind me.  I'm back in the office and things are suddenly really real.  Like the fact that I have 2 and a half weeks left in my full time job and I still need to convey SO much information to the girl taking over my position.  And that it is all of a sudden mid-August and school is literally right around the corner.

I love the summer because it exists almost without time.  Everything is sun soaked and bright and days pass from one to the next without too much notice.  This summer, I found myself teaching a fair amount, even though I hadn't planned on it.  I'd planned to hunker down in my office and tackle some projects.  Instead, I spent my days surrounded by children of various ages and Teaching Artists I truly admire and enjoy spending time around.  I got to be creative and share some of the things I've learned as a performer with the next generation.  It was magical and exhausting and I loved every minute of it.

This summer really affirmed for me that I am making the right decision by stepping out of my office position--I'd much rather be out there, getting my hands dirty, working with students and teaching (though, to be completely honest, I will really miss the security of a salaried paycheck and health insurance).  There is comfort in knowing this and in feeling right in my decision to leave my current job.  But it is also a little terrifying.  Not the bad kind of terrifying, but the kind of terrifying that school children feel on the first day of the new school year--the terrifying that comes with stepping into the unknown.  I literally don't know what is going to happen in the next year or even in the next 6 months.  I have some things that I hope will happen, some things that I am trying very hard to make come to fruition, but other than that, my life is a blank page.  It has been a while since that was the case.

My mother is worried about me, and with good reason.  Her oldest baby is about to be unemployed.  But not really.  I have a work plan (and a backup work plan) and I'm not afraid to work hard to make sure I continue to pay my loans and still function as a human.  My siblings are both moving out this month to go away to school, leaving just me and my parents in the house.  As soon as I found out that my brother was going to be moving out, I asked my dad if he wanted me to move out too.  I mean, I am the oldest, it makes sense.  "No," he said.  "I like having you here."  I'd be lying if I said my heart didn't swell a little bit.  Because, in a way, allowing me to continue to live at home is a little vote of confidence in me and a silent way to say, "We support you fully."  I feel blessed to have parents who allow me to do this, to follow my heart and let it take me where it will.

Last week, when he realized that it was just going to be the three of us ("The three amigos!") in the house come September, my dad looked at my mom and me and said, "You know, it has been 22 years since it was just the three of us.  I'm excited."  Me too, Dad.  Me too.

I Usually Don't Do This

At least, not on the blog, but I believe that today calls for breaking some rules.  What rule, do you ask?  My own personal rule about politics.  Generally, I try to keep politics off of here because I hate when people get all preachy about their views and ignore the other side of things.  I'm not here to preach, absolutely, but I do have specific opinions that I feel inclined to share, and they involve politics and grey areas and things people get heated about.  If you aren't a fan of this sort of thing, I totally understand and I kindly urge you to stop reading.  But, if you'll allow me, I'd like to share how I'm feeling right now.

Just a few hours ago, President Obama told us that Osama Bin Laden is dead.  And I think, in a small way, the world changed.  I think we have begun a shift into a new paradigm, one that we've been waiting for for a long time.  I certainly don't think that, come 8 am, everything will have changed for the better and we will all be able to stop thinking about security and the risks out there, definitely not.  But I do think that this is the first step in a series of many (many) steps to creating different world.  Change is hard, and it doesn't come easily or quickly.  It comes one drop in the bucket at a time.  But eventually, the bucket will be full.  And that is what we are working for, at least in my opinion.

This is my favorite picture from the NYTimes coverage.  from here, by Michael Appleton

Of the 3 years I spent at NYU, I lived all of them in Lower Manhattan.  2 of those years, I lived right in the heart of the Financial District,  on the same street as Ground Zero, just on the opposite side of the island, a 5 minute walk away.  I loved living down there (it was very quiet and clean--thanks, Wall Street Business Men) and, most of the time, where "there" was never entered my consciousness.  But each time that day in September rolled around, I would wake up to this deafening silence, cut through by the mourning song of bagpipes.  Ground Zero was (and is) a strange place.  When I was living there it was still a huge hole in the middle of the city.  And when I say huge I mean enormous, much bigger than you'd imagine.  There was an emptiness there that never seemed to be filled....except on that day in September, when people from all around the world, including the President himself, would congregate there, filling up the emptiness with their prayers for a better, more peaceful world.  And while this day was always particularly hard, it was also extremely beautiful and it gave me hope--hope that there will one day come a time when this sort of thing will be a relic of the past, where hate and terror have no place in our every day lives.

This moment is historic because it is a kind of period on the end of a sentence that we've been writing for nearly 10 years.  It is both an end and a beginning.  This moment if full of promise.  So, how am I feeling?  I think the way I feel is best summarized in this quote:

"I have never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure." ~Mark Twain