it's life

it’s not porcelain, or the rarest diamond, that’s the most fragile.

no, it’s not even glass, or hundred year old china.

it’s life.

too often, I feel, we are reminded of the fragility of life, and how precious it truly is. just today, the tragic crash in the Potomac River, and the loss of a music leader in the Nashville community. it’s days like today, and these moments, that punch you right in the gut, cause your eyes to become misty, even if you never came across the lost souls.

you too easily could put yourself in the place of their families, and friends, and feel an ounce of their heartache and grief. I know for me, I can’t allow myself to feel that.

I can’t ‘only imagine.’ because that imagine is far greater a pain than I hope I ever have to feel.

so for all those today, yesterday, and tomorrow - remember what the most important thing in this entire world is.

it’s life.

take care of one another, and be a shoulder (if you can) for someone that may need it.

the thirties

not who I thought i’d be, but exactly who i’m meant to be.

there’s something equally terrifying and freeing about being in your thirties - take it from someone who’s halfway in.

i’ve never been one that was really dedicated to the ‘timeline’ - I didn’t need to be married by 23, have a couple tiny ones by 25, no - a white picket fence was not needed. BUT I did need to make money, and lots of it! I needed success, and power and influence. I needed to have the career that people aspired and dreamt of, the house where all my family had their own stay over rooms, ten dogs running in the yard (likely some donkeys, goats and zebras too), and the ability to change the world. that was the biggest one.

change the world.

if i’m not doing something big, then what am I really doing at all? If I don’t have millions of people adoring me, my life pales in comparison to the few on the top tier. what does this have to do with my thirties, though?

everything.

i’ve learned that all of that, and yet none of that, is what I need, or want.

my thirties have given me freedom to create, play, experiment and become. my twenties were a lot of fun, but nothing could ever entice me to go back. I had years where I think about myself and hate who I was, with many moments of excruciating hardship. I was holding on for dear life and what I thought it needed, or should, be.

no, my thirties are when I started to LIVE.

I found freedom in changing my mind.

I allowed time to take center stage and guide me down the unpaved path.

I grew as a support system, the glue, for my family, the most important people.

I recognized that my dreams are still there. they haven’t gone anywhere. they may be pressed into a different mold currently, but dreams are dreams and they will always remain.

I know the mold will change - and my thirties have me excited about that, and even welcoming it.

I can have the family still, I can buy my dream home (I’M NOT FUCKING GIVING UP ON YOU 12 SOUTH!!), I can make the money, and I can change the world.

one smile at a time, one laugh with Mamma at a time, one kayak paddle with Daddy at a time, one kitty convo with Kathleen at a time, one LLOVESICK purchase with Collin at a time, one head scratch with Jefe at a time, one walk in the leaves with Fretty at a time, and one blog post written on the couch, by me - Emmy - at at time.

let your thirties be the party era - it’s the best one i’ve been to yet :)

the thief

time.

she takes it all. but mostly, she takes our youth and my ability to sit in every moment.

I remember being 8 or 9 years old and time just inched along. summers stretched so far that my mind was ready for the days of school structure. once that came along, the countdown to christmas was like watching sand pass through an hour glass. eternity.

then something wildly crazy happens, right before my eyes, all of that lands behind me.

25 years ago I was 10 years old - which I truly remember like it was yesterday. in the time it takes to blink, i’m transported back to Quarters T-1 - making movies, picking berries in the woods, and selling snow cones on the corner to every Marine that hopefully ran by. I remember what I wore, the name of our neighbor’s parrot, the sailing instructor I fell madly in love with (at 11! lol) and how brutally aware I was of turning a decade old. as I blew out my 10 candles, I knew I would never be a single digit again. and I remember such a feeling of sadness falling over me. maybe a lot of us felt this way? or was it just me? i’ve always been hyperly focused on life, and our world, even at a young age. and still to this day it takes no effort to go back in my mind. effortless, exciting, and sad. how could that have been 25 years ago?

it get’s crazier. when I look 25 years ahead, I will be 60. SIXTY. FULL STOP. it’s not the number that scares the shit out of me, it’s that the time i’ve lived already - double that up, and it will go even quicker this time around. maybe there will be a couple babies sprinkled in there, no doubt a full petting zoo, but how in the world do I make sure to capture these next 25 years before they too get away from me? i’m not sure, other than try my best to love those around me, travel the world, and be thankful for each day.

I really didn’t think through what I would type out here (i’m sure it’s quite obvious!) these are all just thoughts as they come from my dome to the keyboard. we do our best to stay in the moment, and remind ourself to jump back into them when we can. the thief will always be here - but lucky for me, I keep hard copies of every year in my memories <3

blue

I love to wear it, rarely decorate with it - and always feel it.

what a contradiction!

there’s something about this particular hue that sends my brain mixed signals - maybe because it’s embedded in my blood as a main internal personality trait of mine. or perhaps it’s some sort of weird aversion i’ve created on my own…but blue makes me blue.

denim? love it! my favorite jeans are Levi’s and I could wear them every freaking day - always classic, always a good fit, and always a good choice. I even recently bought a denim trench coat, and it’s the perfect topper to the Canadian tuxedo of my dreams.

but that’s where my admiration of blue ends…blue walls, blankets, rugs, …i’m not onboard. it’s far too close to gray, and gray is worse than saying FUCK in the catholic church in my eyes. i’m not sure why, but it had always caused my skin to immediately goose bump up with chills, and beg for some heat! some fire! something that will turn my senses ON! bring me the bold burgundies, foresty greens and cozy golds, and i’ll decorate the shit out of any room. i’ll dress the windows, embellish the couch, and drape my body in colors that bring the world around me to life.

i’ve always lived in a mildly melancholy world in my brain - all the while trying to project happiness and rainbows. maybe it’s the middle child in me, or the artist’s soul, but I want everyone to be happy and never worry. especially over me. so I sit it my blues a lot, many times alone, too often, very often. i’m not willing to accept it’s my personality, because at the heart of it - i’m a happy person who truly loves the world around her, and is grateful to breathe every day. I see the weight of what others carry, and I beg to never ever have to feel that - all while doing anything I can to alleviate theirs - even if just an ounce.

we feel, we see and we are the colors all around us. I find happiness and warmth in deep tones, but maybe I need to do a little more work on the so-called blues - because the clear blue summer sky, and deep sapphire sea are as calming and brilliant as anything we’ll ever see - something tells me, they’re here to stay ;)

coming in last

i’ve always been the last one.

last to touch the wall on swim team, last to first kiss a boy, last to get a driver’s license, last to wear makeup and straighten my hair, and last to give up.

i’m starting to think that maybe my history of coming in last has prepped me for what’s up ahead. I started The Girl With No Plan in December of 2019, and after hitting it hard and going all in - slowly over the years, my inspiration started to wane. over time, little by little, my ideas became soggy and the confidence I once had with dressing my body dwindled. it’s hard to keep the faith on a passion project when you see others just soaring past you and your mind tells you to compare yourself. you know? so I let it all slide.

maybe this isn’t what I wanted to create after all? the internet is a harsh place, full of surface level ‘HOT HOT HOT’ and empty compliments. but what if I chose to just focus on the lovely parts it has to offer? the authentic ‘you inspired me to try somethings’, or the digi-friendships that become real life friendship (I see you Payton freaking Smith!)

I realized that’s where I want to be - in the space between coming in last, and never giving up, it’s where i’ve always been. so if you find yourself there too, let’s huddle together, bunker down and keep at it. I think The Girl With No Plan has only just begun, and i’m ready to be the last to quit on her.

p.s. thank you for reading :)