Skip to content

Steeped in Sound

strong tea, black coffee, loud music

lifestyle
reflections
sketchbook
travel
poetry
now playing
portfolio

now playing

A playlist for everything

jordanstovka

I woke up consistently from a slew of restless nig

I woke up consistently from a slew of restless nights this week, tear-filled and frustrated in my personal growth. Spurred by comparison-fueled anxiety, I agonized over having no physical evidence to show for the rewards of my painful healing process. The irony in taking such steps of bravery all while standing still. The staleness of the word “grow” on my tongue.

I found an ounce of comfort in the revelation that growing deeper is not what we traditionally think of as further; it’s still distance nonetheless, only underground. I found purpose in the notion that moving deeper is still progress, even if it’s not outwardly noticeable. I found hope in the reality that depth still has direction, even if it’s vertical.

This of course has nothing at all to do with this cozy photo of my couch, but her name is Rhonda and she’s a gem.

I love Lent because I’m comforted by spiritual r

I love Lent because I’m comforted by spiritual ritual. What started as giving up hot coffee for 40 days ended with painfully sacrificing my perfectionism, shame and self-criticism. I’ve shed many layers of a Self I never wanted these past few weeks, and just when I feel exhausted of having given up so much, I’m given so much more in its place.

That’s where this prose stems from. I’m still obsessing over this dandelion motif because I too felt trapped within the darkness of myself last winter, and only recently started breathing in the freshness of who I’m meant to be. While my pathway to healing isn’t over on this sunshiny day, the weight of guilt, obligation and fear I’ve carried for so long are finished. Conquered. Defeated.

There really are dirty, ugly roots underlying ever

There really are dirty, ugly roots underlying every beautiful thing: there is usually pain behind laughter, trauma underneath joy and anxiety interwoven with confidence. My least favorite part of the human experience is how we’re all so fearful of judgment to be vulnerable with each other about this reality. I’ve become very well-versed in disguising my shame with perfectionism. I rarely tell anyone that I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night with tear-filled eyes, overwhelmed by the regrets of my past self or by the anxieties of future decisions.
.
I don’t know if there’s any research behind this but I’d love to know how much strength it takes for such a dainty dandelion to push through so much sh*t. I’m grateful for the belief that even in the difficult parts of this life, we too naturally grow towards the sun; that even in the dark parts we can’t see, there is something good stirring.

Hi hello the following words have absolutely nothi

Hi hello the following words have absolutely nothing to do with this cozy image, but nonetheless they are very important to me:
.
I’ve been trapped by the idea that striving to become “more” of anything meant that I had to do so perfectly. I didn’t notice it at first, but the impossibility of achieving that standard swallowed me in shame and self-criticism. But I noticed just recently that the word “more” is realistic. “More” is incremental. “More” is achievable. It is practical. “More” is not synonymous with perfect. It does not mean “full” or even “complete.” “More” is honest.
.
Committing to be “more” loving, for example, “more” patient, or “more” kind does not mean we are instantaneously the idealistic forms of ourselves, making anything less a blunder to our worth. “More” brings with it an acknowledgement of our flaws; an acceptance of our natural tendencies of selfishness and mistakes. The space between “more” and “perfect” that once brought fear and suffocation now brings me such freedom and joy i could cry. I feel empowered to live this life as imperfectly as I can, but with an attitude nothing short of love.

I’m exhausted by this pressure to make everythin

I’m exhausted by this pressure to make everything here look pretty, so I’m not putting that burden on myself anymore! I’ve had a lot that I’ve wanted to share, but I’ve been too intimidated by the lie that my words don’t matter if they aren’t connected with a perfectly composed photo. So I broke my self expression down to the bare bones and literally wrote out what I’ve been meaning to say. What a relief.

I think I’ve come to prioritize solitude on my b

I think I’ve come to prioritize solitude on my birthdays in recent years because I want to take intentional time to get to know this new version of myself.
.
I never intend on offending anyone by wanting to be alone throughout the majority of my day; for never wanting “big plans.” Frankly, I feel grateful and deserving of all the love in my life, but this is truly a sacred day to pour more deeply into myself than any other.
.
The introvert in me prefers commemorating my life in the reflective sense of celebrating my wins and grieving my losses within my own company.
.
All this to say: I’m feeling grounded, content and at-home in this 24.0 edition of Me and that’s the best gift I could ever give to myself.

Load More Follow on Instagram

Copyright © 2020 All Rights Reserved. Theme By Mrtemplates