My Silver Lining

Last weekend amidst the uncharacteristic LA rain, I drove northwest on the CA-101 like I do daily. I was a little sleepy, enjoying a food-induced coma from an amazing brunch on Ventura Boulevard with my best of friends. I felt slightly hungover - not the kind of hungover that comes from too many fruity drinks, but the type that follows a well-hydrated yet unjustifiably late night of non-stop, hard-core dancing.

That afternoon, I peered through my windshield at the grey skies above me as I approached the airspace of a particularly poised-to-burst raincloud hovering over the El Camino Real. I both dreaded the continuation of this gloomy, atypical Southern California weather and also pondered gratitude toward Mother Earth and the heavens for finally watering the parched Southern California landscape around me.

Rain always brings me a tinge of familiar refreshment. Every time that a day-long sprinkle or weekend-long downpour rinses the gray buildings and beige chaparral surrounding my home city, I breathe in the aftermath only to detect a sense of cleansing, rejuvenation, and appreciation for the removal of all excess, all deprivation. This day was no different. The highway's asphalt was damp, the surrounding brush replenished, and my fatigued body and spirit both felt satisfied by the elements.

I chatted via Bluetooth with Chels about our recent focus upon the aim of being bold, of living without fear or hesitation toward the risks inherent when living life to the fullest. This then inspired my realization of what the Universe was trying to tell me, while looking at those clouds: there's always a silver lining. Isn't that from where the expression comes: the sunshine which peaks shyly from behind a cloud after the worst of the storm has passed?

I've worked hard this past month of age 25, and these two first months of the year. First and foremost, I turned my self-sufficient and indulgent LA lifestyle back toward practicality and a bit of financial pragmatism in moving back to Newbury Park. I made a change in my personal, romantic and sexual relationship status. I've now re-embraced solitude, and my independence. I've deepened my relationships at work and sharpened my operational process around maintaining our store's organization and, most importantly, schedule (my personal baby). I've tested my own endurance, pushed my physical limits and, then, run the longest consecutive and organized event of my adult life: ten kilometers, or six-point-two miles, around a brightly hot Los Angeles at the end of February. I've crossed a decent number of items from my bucket list in the first month of being twenty-five.

There have been growing pains, and a little bit of heart ache. Collectively, though? These accomplishments have made up the silver lining around my year, the shifts from my prior life, and my moving home to live with my parents - some of the most generous and unconditionally loving roommates a girl could ask for.

If I hadn't moved out of West Hollywood and back home in last October, I would not be in the same physical, financial or personal state that I am now. On the flip side, I am confident that all three such states of my well-being might have been worse off if I had not. There is little point to considering the alternatives: having moved to a new city with for the role of manager, having left my company all together, having gotten my own apartment when I moved to Topanga, or having continued to reside in WeHo while commuting a rough fifty miles each day. Each possibility would have had its own blessings and inherent challenges. However, what did come to be ultimately led me to: ask myself what I really want from a relationship and from a companion; caused me to reconsider my personal budgeting and my capacity to save at this formative stage of my young life and career; and spend time focusing on the well-being of the vessel and church that are my body, rather than poisoning it with the distractions and pleasures brought on in the heart of Los Angeles where I sometimes tended to overspend, over-splurge and overexert myself staying out late, balancing many friends and parties, and abandoning willpower.

Finally, if I hadn't moved home to live with my family during this past holiday season and into the new year of Welsh-centric holidays, I may not have had the opportunity to spend not only my glorious birthday weekend in Napa Valley with my parents and sister Kirby, but also my gorgeous, fifty-five-year-old mother's birthday with her this afternoon at Sagebrush Cantina.

-- Mine and Mom's masterpiece from Paint Nite, Tuesday March 11th in Calabasas, CA --

Even he can see the silver lining above while within the depths of the scary sea! 

It may take this entire year and age 25 to ponder and brainstorm what the next chapter of my memoir will be titled... as well as how I'll manage and maintain all of the new commitments and values within my new lifestyle once I am once again living on my own, or living in the Valley, or living in a new city after this one. All I know with confidence is that everything happens for a reason, every person and experience has entered stage center for a critical act, and every obstacle or turn in the road will hold a silver lining on the next horizon.

Chels reminded herself and me in her recent blog post: Forget how much it hurt, and try again. That is the only way we'll live life wholly and to satisfaction. Our failures or attempts or temporary disgraces will pain us for a while; but trying those is the only way we'll experience life, that joy, that rush. I don't want to forget fully, but I want to be brave enough to embrace the attempts and feel challenged enough to carry on, to go again... while keeping in sight the constantly visible silver lining.

Michael Drive in Newbury Park, CA this past Monday night