Explaining The Messy Life Movement: I am a MESSY Woman

Modern media is overflowing with digitally enhanced photos, footage crafted from edited clips, and summaries of success stories. None of these show what happens behind the scenes - the MESSY bits that run our world. Today's society is missing something raw that's key to the reality of our existence.

I have known for a while now that I am not the type of person who thrives in an environment fueled by this state of mind. It can't be healthy to constantly compare your rough draft to somebody else's revised version.

I am a MESSY girl, I am not ashamed, and I am sure that however you identify, there is a bit of MESSY in you too because we all have imperfections. It's about time we embrace them, and free ourselves to grow into the people we're meant to be.

My Life, a Collage of Near Death Experiences

written during the Summer of 2017

I keep getting almost hit by cars. I feel like I should lead with that.


In the past, I had a sort of anxiety about crossing the street (which I once wrote a fair amount about, but failed to publish). However, a few weeks ago, I almost got hit by a car and since then that fear has sort of dissolved.

How does fear materialize? Does it ever “de”materialize?

Since then, I’ve been hit twice more. Almost. I suppose I’m at fault, but there are a number of variables in each situation. For better or for worse, I think my perception of life has developed in a way that’s diminished my fear of death. To an extent? I’m still trying to decipher whether or not this has made me less sensitive toward, or rather less cautious of, my mortality.

In the moment, my mind goes blank and I don’t properly process my surroundings . Maybe I have been thinking about too much, and my brains have effectively fried. Or I’ve subconsciously reordered my mind, so that unlearned priorities are less important. Or maybe I’m lacking the fear necessary to keep myself safe. Either way, something is up, and I find it fascinating.

As the end is inevitable, collective not individual (though the latter is also true), does it matter anyway?

update: I have since learned this was happening as a result of my anxiety.

still, my fascination back then continues to intrigues me.


After August arrived to claim its spot in line, I began to read a lot. More than I have in years. I used to read an incredible amount, but life happened. Or I got lazy. And stressed, definitely stressed.

A slew of knowledge.

Thanks to the barrage of information that has flooded my mind in recent weeks, I have been thinking more about topics I tend to contemplate in the classroom. Yes, I pay thousands of dollars to read prose and write essays. I could do it for free, but I’m also studying business, and I’d rather step on a LEGO than teach myself the ins-and-outs of the business world. The best thing I’ve learned in school? It’s much smarter to learn from someone else —someone  who has already made the mistakes and survived the journey.

I digress.

Musings about life, and humanity, and the way our earthly bodies shape our perception of the world, have swarmed my mind. Two books in particular have contributed to these thoughts:

  • Seven Brief Lessons on Physics by Carlos Rovelli
  • The 5th Wave by Rick Yancey

The first, a short book — very short, but funny. The second, a Young Adult dystopian novel. With an active imagination, anything can resonate on a deeper level, and for me, these hit home. Note: I have also been reading other Dystopias including The Circle and Brave New World* so I’m pretty screwed right now.

*may have also impacted the thoughts I’m sharing here

The second evokes a similar sentiment, as do most well-thought dystopian narratives. It reminds me of the fragility of human understanding. Of our certain uncertainties, and our undeniable ignorance all-throughout. It entertains my shallow absurdist beliefs (I am by no means full-fledged, but certain ideas resonate).

It also prompts me to see myself, beyond myself. In other words, to wonder who I can be, if I don’t allow myself to be limited by an earth-bound life view. Instead, imagining the possibilities if I saw myself as a part of the world: another form of matter, bending space and time. As a blip in the circle of time. As a part of something incomprehensibly vast.

Humans often, sometimes inadvertently, focus the world around themselves. Forgetting that they are but specks on earth, one of billions of humans, and earth is but a speck in our solar system, rotating around the star that is our sun. And our galaxy, but one in the vast expanse of space, is infinitesimally small considering there are billions of systems like and unlike our own. We are but a part of a seemingly endless whole. Atoms interacting. Moments in time.

The final pages of the 5th wave made my heart feel remarkably large and incredibly warm. Like the stress of getting by diminishes as I change my point of view. If I knew the only thing I had to do to understand life is to accept that I don’t, I would have felt free long ago. Because in letting go of the idea of control, one is freed from the obligation that comes along with it. I honestly feel like I can be more than I am, by embracing the fact that I am what I am, no more and no less. Focusing on what I am, before entertaining the imagination: who am I.

There is also a theme, in the novels I’ve been reading, of accepting things as they are — not just oneself, but nature and respective occurrences. For instance, there is always more to a story. Not just another side, but layers with levels that can’t be deduced. It’s safe to say, one should never assume that they’ve grasped the entirety of a tale.

A sort of tension underlies this idea. To accept that there’s no reprieve. To admit that this will always be as it is, there being things you don’t know and things you can never understand. Common knowledge, it should be easier to accept than it is.

I still struggle.

Digress, Digress.

Embracing new frames of mind seems to make me feel lighter. Knowing that nothing matters as much as we want to believe. Viewing myself beyond myself, as part of the process. I am learning not to worry. I am starting to appreciate what is, and letting this be.

Thanking my money for the permissions it has granted. Instead of fretting over the next source. Appreciating what the funds I have can allow me to achieve.

This is the longest brain dump, and I’m not halfway done but I’ll wrap it up either way with a musing about Rovelli and the thoughts he has inspired.

Happenings, not things.

“Life is an interaction.” A line from Rovelli’s book. I love his way with words. How he managed to make a science read interesting to my literary mind? Magic. Some of his phrasings even open the floor for romantic consideration, which is in itself a miracle. He breaks down the Big Bang in a way that helped me understand why people believe it. Hell, with further research, I might believe it.

Gratitude abound

Thank you for allowing me to share myself with the world. I’m not sure who I’m thanking, but it feels like the right thing to say. The right way to say it. I guess I’m thanking each of you, who have stumbled across my writing and chosen to read it. I thank the 30+ people who follow me, interested in hearing more of what I have to say. I thank the creators of Medium for producing such an unparalleled platform. The community of writers on Medium for keeping the site alive. Each publication that has accepted me with open arms. The internet? haha. I’m going mad. I’m just so grateful right now.

I don’t get to write as often as I did this summer. And I’m finally completing this piece that’s sat abandoned, for weeks. I need to write more.

It may be getting to me.

Update: This piece is easily one of my favorite personal writings

and I am now grateful for providing myself a platform

to continue sharing these words.


Adapted from my posting on Medium

Messy Mania: July 13, 2018

messy mania july 13
Attribution: Eric Han

The word of the week is plethora, meaning an excessive amount or number. When I first learned this word, I used it ALL the time. Any chance I could get in an academic paper, I took. That was almost a decade ago, and now I’m here to share the very same word that started my obsession with particularizing locution.

What’s New On The Messy Life? July Updates

Thursday Thoughts: Working full time really wipes you out. It’s a wonder college students can juggle school, internships, jobs, and extracurricular activities. There’s something about doing the same task for hours on end, that is thoroughly exhausting.


21 Things That Made Life Worth Living in June

This month, I’m starting a new series that I am very excited about beginning. Life can be a real pain, and though there are struggles, there are also little moments that remind us life can be worth living. I want to start a collection of sorts - a monthly journal of moments, people, and things that made life worth living for me.

June was a hard month for me, for whatever reason, and I can definitely say that these small pieces of time made a world of difference.

What I’ve Been Listening to in June

Attribution: Adrian Korte

I've been listening to some pretty chill music this month. To take a break from curating topic-based playlists, today I'm simply sharing what I've been listening to in June. I hope this also diversifies the music I share with you, so you can get a better idea of new songs that deserve a listen.

Death is But One State Humans Fail to Understand

Throughout each of Zhuangzi's passages, one can find the theme of life as is. It resonates voices that work on understanding and embracing life, as well as accepting that which is left unknown. The tone of each passage is direct as it is blunt, yet indirect in that it feels lighthearted. These passages act as parables; they are not upsetting tales.

Questions​ ​for​ ​Dreamers,​ ​Unanswerable​ ​by​ ​All

Part​ ​One,​ ​Inspired​ ​by​ ​Passage​ ​2

1.  If the enjoyment of life is a delusion, then are we miserable in truth?

2.  Are those ever-attempting to achieve happiness damned to lives of unrelievable pain?

Impulse

I

Uncontrollable thoughts,

twisted through dreams,

impossible to scrape

from the crevices

of a multilayered mind

Life Is a Multitude of Exhausting Perspectives

The secret to survival is finding conceivable reasons to continue on. We've come up with so many of them: schedules, jobs, religion, familial obligations - each of these intended to be grounding in their own way.

Yet, is surviving equivalent to a life worth living? Just as some may say that living is incomparable to existing, I argue there is a difference between the two.

So if there is a difference, then how can we begin to define life? Should we define existing as a means of keeping on, and surviving as a means of enabling ourselves to stay strong, then how on earth can we begin to perceive the center of it all?

Simply enough, I have found that life is best viewed from a multitude of equally exhausting perspectives.

Am I An Artist?

I first started blogging on Medium, back in June 2017. As I write this, a little over a month has come to pass. Today, 20-something reflective essays later, I am finally tired of writing about myself.

It feels like the right time, or more like the right time has passed, to explore new genres. I’ve tried my hand at poetry, and I want to stick with it, for poetry and I have a good thing going.

In The Moment: An Expression of Acceptance

When thinking of contentment, I realize how far I have come, though part of me screams: I have a long way to go. This is how it is for me. Ambition does not parallel discontent, but the line distinguishing the two is easily blurred.

Failing to appreciate progress,

leads to the escalation of goals into needs,

which then become benchmarks for self worth.

I think, and I think, until I think too much.

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