Discovering, remembering, and clarifying my thoughts through writing. Writing to find joy.
Life after 36
There’s a magnificent Turkish poet, Cahit Sitki Taranci, who said that 35 is “halfway through the road.” The poem that laments the loss of youth and recognizes the creeping existential dread that one feels as the concept of their mortality becomes increasingly real. Taranci’s verses address the physical changes in the mirror, the loss of feeling, the constant worry and day-to-day struggle, and the hard truths that one discovers as one ages. My favorite verse, and one I agree with: “I discover...
LA or New York?
A question that stuck with me for days after the two times I’ve visited LA: should I move here? While I was in LA, I experienced this question as a certainty. I belonged in LA. Everything about it fundamentally nourished me: from the sun to the coffeeshops where no one was in a rush, where people called each other by their name and healthy options were the default rather than something you had to seek out. Plus, there was Abbot Kinney Boulevard and Erewhon’s breakfast burritos and the palm-li...
Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Buried Giant: Is it better to forget?
The most recent book I finished is Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Buried Giant, in which an elderly Briton couple leave their village to visit a son who they have not seen in years. This is a perilous journey in post-Roman Britain, where distances are yet unconquered by advanced transportation, and where people are frail. Still, the story hints that the couple is strong for their age yet, and devoted to each other. There is one quirk: the couple is missing their memories, owing to a dragon’s spell cast...
Life after 36
There’s a magnificent Turkish poet, Cahit Sitki Taranci, who said that 35 is “halfway through the road.” The poem that laments the loss of youth and recognizes the creeping existential dread that one feels as the concept of their mortality becomes increasingly real. Taranci’s verses address the physical changes in the mirror, the loss of feeling, the constant worry and day-to-day struggle, and the hard truths that one discovers as one ages. My favorite verse, and one I agree with: “I discover...
LA or New York?
A question that stuck with me for days after the two times I’ve visited LA: should I move here? While I was in LA, I experienced this question as a certainty. I belonged in LA. Everything about it fundamentally nourished me: from the sun to the coffeeshops where no one was in a rush, where people called each other by their name and healthy options were the default rather than something you had to seek out. Plus, there was Abbot Kinney Boulevard and Erewhon’s breakfast burritos and the palm-li...
Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Buried Giant: Is it better to forget?
The most recent book I finished is Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Buried Giant, in which an elderly Briton couple leave their village to visit a son who they have not seen in years. This is a perilous journey in post-Roman Britain, where distances are yet unconquered by advanced transportation, and where people are frail. Still, the story hints that the couple is strong for their age yet, and devoted to each other. There is one quirk: the couple is missing their memories, owing to a dragon’s spell cast...
Discovering, remembering, and clarifying my thoughts through writing. Writing to find joy.
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There is that person who draws admiring eyes to them, exuding comfort, confidence, style – without even wearing anything expensive, necessarily.
There is also the opposite. That person who wears things by the book. Their shirt, pants, shoes are in line with what’s fashionable and “approved” by others. Yet, something doesn’t fit. They can’t carry it. It just doesn’t work.
What makes someone the former?
I think it comes down to internalizing who you are, what you like, and confidently telling that story to the world.
To restate a cliché – being comfortable in your own skin, and delighting in sharing that with others.
My wardrobe got smaller and smaller over the years. But I felt more and more comfortable with what I was wearing.
I got rid of everything that didn’t fit and hung around like mental baggage, no matter how beautiful they were.
I donated many gifted items I did not feel comfortable in. Donated the overly expensive items purchased on a whim that did not fit what I did or how I lived. Got rid of the severe or blank items with manly cuts that I’d gotten for “client meetings,” thinking that I didn’t need to stand out with what I looked like or what I wore.
Trying to fit into clothes (or roles) that didn’t resonate with me didn’t work out very well, no matter how stylish or coveted they might look from the outside.
I only felt less confident and more invisible.
I did not want to show up to the world that way.
I asked myself honestly:
What do I like? What makes me feel comfortable?
How do I want to show up to the world?
For me, style – and life, for that matter – has become increasingly about questioning what makes me more inspired, alive, and able to stoke others, instead of accepting and wilting within the conventions of how things should look like.
Find your style. Find your story.
**
**
There is that person who draws admiring eyes to them, exuding comfort, confidence, style – without even wearing anything expensive, necessarily.
There is also the opposite. That person who wears things by the book. Their shirt, pants, shoes are in line with what’s fashionable and “approved” by others. Yet, something doesn’t fit. They can’t carry it. It just doesn’t work.
What makes someone the former?
I think it comes down to internalizing who you are, what you like, and confidently telling that story to the world.
To restate a cliché – being comfortable in your own skin, and delighting in sharing that with others.
My wardrobe got smaller and smaller over the years. But I felt more and more comfortable with what I was wearing.
I got rid of everything that didn’t fit and hung around like mental baggage, no matter how beautiful they were.
I donated many gifted items I did not feel comfortable in. Donated the overly expensive items purchased on a whim that did not fit what I did or how I lived. Got rid of the severe or blank items with manly cuts that I’d gotten for “client meetings,” thinking that I didn’t need to stand out with what I looked like or what I wore.
Trying to fit into clothes (or roles) that didn’t resonate with me didn’t work out very well, no matter how stylish or coveted they might look from the outside.
I only felt less confident and more invisible.
I did not want to show up to the world that way.
I asked myself honestly:
What do I like? What makes me feel comfortable?
How do I want to show up to the world?
For me, style – and life, for that matter – has become increasingly about questioning what makes me more inspired, alive, and able to stoke others, instead of accepting and wilting within the conventions of how things should look like.
Find your style. Find your story.
**
**
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