write more. the only difference in this new year’s resolution from all the previous years of resolving to write more is that i want to write, and not just reflect. i want to write about random musings, strangers and small events i witness in passing, and the milestones of friends and family.
so here goes.
lately i’ve been revisiting some of my old entries on marathon training. a few years ago, i trained myself to run a 10k, although i never completed the training due to a back injury. i ended up taking barre and yoga classes regularly until i quit my job, traveled for a bit, and then started school again. since then, i’ve rarely found the time to exercise on a routine basis — there’ve always been events and assignments and readings to do that cut up the day into strange hours that have made it difficult to find a good block of time to escape to the gym, or even to a change of scenery in the city.
getting back on the exercise train has been a challenge. it’s something that i’ve made a priority this summer, recovering and working out everyday. i’ve already recruited workout buddies to do barre and yoga with me in the city, and i wanted to share this on my blog because i’ve received incredible encouragement on my fitness journey in the past. having lived in new york city for almost a year, i’ve prioritized my relationships with the city and my career over my relationship with myself, by investing in exploring a new museum or going to a networking happy hour and putting another hour in the library with a casebook, rather than taking the time to go on a run or pamper myself with a home-cooked meal and marathon of parks & rec.
one of my best friends recently told me this: when we are enveloped in uncertainty during this time of our lives, sometimes the greatest comfort arises in the little things: getting a fantastic 45-minute massage, finding delicious croissants at a neighborhood bakery, or stumbling upon a really great artist. sometimes, in the fast-paced hustle and bustle of figuring out how to be an adult, we forget how to take care of ourselves. we’re taught to chase after passions and to do what we love, but sometimes in the process of doing so, we overlook loving ourselves. a little self-care now and then means tending to our own garden and nurturing ourselves — even if that requires learning how to run and do crow pose again.
wish me luck!
Starting a new project as of today. Each week, I’m going to try to post a picture accompanied with short prose about an event, a passing encounter, or a mood.
Currently the last week of 1L. S and I took a practice exam, and fatigued by the intensive fact pattern, we decided to head over to this Chinese restaurant before returning to the library. It’s the kind of gimmicky establishment adorned with red lanterns at the entrance and ornate gold tablecloth overlaying circular tables spread throughout the spacious (but mostly empty) interior. A tourist trap for the Greenwich Village passerby, or perhaps a pit stop for the drunken crowds swelling in and out of the bars on West 3rd. It’s the kind of place you stumble upon without forethought, because you meandered too far into this area or you forgot to make a reservation at a Yelp-approved venue in the East Village.
It’s the kind of place that gives out golden-orange colored fortune cookies wrapped in plastic that read “Fortune Cookie” with a depiction of the fortune cookie on the front. And when you crack open that fortune cookie, there is a fleeting exhilaration of revealing the unknown contained in that small token of cultural idiosyncrasy — only in America. Then you share the profound wisdom printed onto that thin, white rectangular piece of paper with your friend, and after exchanging the wisdom you’ve gleaned from these valuable documents, you both ponder over the poignancy of its words.
I don’t know if my fortune will ring true. I’m two exams away from finishing this long, challenging year. Perhaps the profound wisdom that this fortune cookie has really taught me is that I can share the fortune with the best companions. After scoffing at our fortune cookies, S and I went back to the library, struggling together over our practice exam and sounding like two crazy girls postulating over criminal law. If I could rewrite that fortune, it’d probably read instead: “You are lucky because you have chosen great companions.”
briefly pausing my studies to post a belated tribute to my travels last summer — all of these photos were taken on an old iphone. i’m looking forward to seeing vibrant colors soon, beyond the neon fluorescence of the overhead lighting & starch white of my outlines.
pt 1: taiwan