She wore a bright-colored, glass bracelet, peeking out from under her black suit jacket. Matching suit pants. Wavy, long hair cascading over her shoulders. On some days, pulled into a simple pony tail.
She pulled out leather chairs in the Hill conference room and sat down with authority. But also sank into quietly into coalition meeting chairs without disturbing the loud rounds of hellos and announcements of personal ego. Her emails distributed out-of-office notifications with phrases like "six weeks" and "Guantananamo Bay"- but she spoke mostly of rafting trips and sun on California beaches. She smiled more often than not.
I cut my hair the summer before in favor of a shorter, older, more professional look. I wore naked wrists and naked earlobes.
More often than not, I still do, but two falls ago, I let my hair grow longer.
I want pant suits with perfect pressed lines hanging in my closet. I want the confidence to slip into one at a moment's notice and stand up quiet, loud, proud, with ease for what I believe. I have the belief, I have the knowledge, listen.
Most of the time, I want to wear jeans. I want to carry my camera everywhere and actually snap the shot. Stop. Move to the left. Bend down, stand on my toes, weave through the crowd, feel the eyes of the crowd, but take the photo anyway. I want to take the photo and not notice the eyes. Everyday.
Write. Everyday. Write with a pen in a moleskin, notebook, journal. With the tumblr, twitter, gmail distractions closed and tucked away. Write with honesty at the core. Live with honesty at the core. Everyday.
Travel. As a lifestyle. Not a vacation. Not work. Buy tickets, pack the bag, and leave. Walk new streets, eat the food, say hello to new faces. In these moments, I am an extrovert. Sleep in tents, on trains, hostel bunk beds, airport lounges. Bring a pen. Bring the camera. Go, go, go.
Listen to music. Live. Stay up too late on a weeknight, lose my voice on a Saturday night, sing along, dance. Be inspired. To feel it. To express it. To share it. All of it. Listen to those songs on repeat, download the latest album, remember the old favorites. Fill the days, the hours, the minutes with melodies, harmonies, lyrics.
Drink more water, eat more protein, think about yoga on Saturday afternoons, pop a few vitamins, use more hand lotion, let the rest of it go.
Let most of it go.
I'll find my own bright-colored bracelet and slip it on under the cuff of my black pressed suit.
