A Mid-Career Crisis?

Sometimes in my moments of career discontentment coupled with a dash of regret, I often wonder what my life would have been like had I chose a different profession instead of Fashion Design? And then I wonder why did I choose to design? Many people decide at a very young age what they want to be when they grow up, however, I was one of those that was not wired that way. For me it wasn’t the dilemma of trying to figure out what I wanted to do, but which one do I choose? I remember being captivated by news anchors at age 5 and deciding that’s what I’d do, I would be a news reporter! As I got a little older, I realized it wasn’t about reporting so much as it was about writing. Having my book report or creative writing assignment read by the teacher in class was never a surprise and I generally sailed through my English classes effortlessly. By age 9 I began writing diligently in my brown, leather-bound diary that my mother gave me for Christmas. I remember it came with a lock and key to keep inquisitive eyes out of the sordid tales of my pre-pubescent life. I even began every entry with “Dear Diary..” as if she were a living, breathing friend that just sat under my pillow waiting earnestly for me to deliver the days’ juicy details. As I grew older and soaked up the pages with my adolescent adventures, my diaries then became ‘journals’ and grew larger in size to fill the many questions I had going on in my head. There were no fancy brass locks and keys anymore, although, there should have been. For some odd reason, the boyfriends I had in my early 20’s thought the holy grail of my thoughts and actions lie between the pages of my journals. So, after having my journal raped on more that three different occasions and it’s contents used against me, I vowed to never write anything again. My journal was supposed to be my friend and it just sat there lifeless, in its quiet betrayal. It was like driving a car that had been stolen by thugs and joy ridden. I didn’t even want it anymore. And so for nearly 10 years following those uncomfortable, intrusive actions by insecure boyfriends, I didn’t write anything. I shut off the valve that used to pour out some of the most beautiful thoughts and personal issues of my life. Intermittently, over the course of that decade, you could get one page out of me. But generally it was written out of a desperate need to be a friend to myself or I had had an epiphany that just needed to be documented.

By 2003, my life took a sharp turn towards fashion design. With ferocity, I was determined to succeed. I designed everything from dance wear, swimwear, children’s apparel, formal wear, sleepwear and finally, jeans. It wasn’t until 2006, when I discovered “blogging” that I reconnected with my love for writing. I started off small and cautiously, taking baby steps and testing the waters. After a few months, I learned that it was OK to express myself through my writing again. In fact, it was very liberating!
Of course, anything that was incredibly personal or private I left on the shelf in my mind.
I moved to Los Angeles at the tail end of 2006 and became so absorbed in writing that I found myself pecking away several times a day when a thought came to mind worth writing about. It was like I was making up for the lost time that I had been gone. I had so much to say, so may thoughts and questions. I was catching up with my old friend and I finally felt free to just open up the floodgates and be me.
So today and the last few months I question whether or not I will be designing for the rest of my life. I wonder, why do we feel forced into doing just one thing our whole lives? My dad says I’m learning contentment and changing the way I think since I am in my mid-20s, Ok, 30’s. Maybe it's a mid-life crisis. Though, I think of it more as a mid-career crisis.

Follow Your Bliss!

In an effort to “follow your bliss” as defined by Joseph Campbell, I feel as though I am on a yellow brick road full of adventure and self-discovery. I still keep my focus, although, I have a tendency to get diverted at times and forget that what I want and, most importantly, need is more important than trying to please everyone. At times, I have made mistakes in surrounding myself with people who have either not found their bliss, don’t know what the hell “bliss” is or simply don’t care. These are the people I have a hard time relating to. What do you mean you aren’t passionate about something? I think everyone has a passion for something they either love, do well or just admire. Whether it is cooking, photography, fishing, writing, art, music, storytelling, being a mother, golf or dancing, everyone has something that ‘belongs’ to him or her. What is your passion? How do you know if and when you’ve found your bliss?
Here are a few of the experiences from individuals in finding and following their bliss:
· You feel at one with the world, as if everything is in its rightful place and all interconnected
· You feel totally alive, as if your body is resonating at a slightly higher frequency
· Your eyes light up and you feel like you could spend hours talking about the subjects you love
· You see things more clearly, as if a mist has cleared or a fog has lifted and now you can see more clearly or deeply understand
· You feel totally at home within your skin and so comfortable within yourself that you the ideas of who you are fade
· Time ceases to exist when you are following your bliss - whether that is researching at home or being on stage
· You feel surrounded by kindred spirits when you find other people who are passionate about the same things
· You have deep, insightful discussions with people you have known only a few minutes
· You experience leaps of insight and the profound understanding of concepts and ideas that go beyond words
· You find yourself creating at an extraordinary level far beyond your normal abilities
· Worlds of ideas and knowledge that you never knew existed open up to you
· The world becomes a place where synchronicities start to make sense and form a subtle path pointing you to the things you need to discover
· You find yourself (many times unknowingly) amassing a collection of resources built around your bliss
· You feel the touch of unseen hands guiding you
· You feel like a light deep inside of you has been turned on
· Days you follow your bliss start to feel a bit like Christmas morning, making you want to jump out of bed and see what the day holds
· You surprise yourself by the things you say and do because they make you seem much smarter and gifted than you usually think you are
In my opinion, life should be a constant road of emotional and spiritual growth and self-discovery. Without it we are just like robots, an empty shell of emotionless space. I want a deeper connection to myself as well as the people and things around me. I want to surround myself with kindred spirits who allow me to lose myself in a moment and inspire me to do great things with the potential I know I have. I have found my bliss, now it’s time to make sure I’m following it. What is your bliss? More importantly, are you following it?

Marriage

Most ancient societies needed a secure environment for the perpetuation of the species, a system of rules to handle the granting of property rights, and the protection of bloodlines. The institution of marriage handled these needs. For instance, ancient Hebrew law required a man to become the husband of a deceased brother's widow.

The original establishment of marriage was not created to withstand the modern day challenges we face today. We are scared and question whether or not an expiration date exists for our relationships. We feel guilty, confused and angry. We blame ourselves for the failure; we scratch our heads and try to make sense of why marriages don’t last and it’s no surprise to realize that the answer mostly lies in ‘change’. We cannot completely go blameless in the situation of divorce but are we also being too hard on ourselves? Logically, we cannot fit old practices into a society that has long since outgrown the old ideals in which the very arrangement was founded upon. Everything surrounding marriages as they used to be has drastically changed. We clearly see the evidence today amidst the laws preventing gay couples to legally marry.

Ancient and antique marriage institutions were just that: Institutions created for financial, business and familial preservation. When we look at the contrast between today and even 200 years ago, we can make better sense of it all. We are in a society where divorce is easy and more acceptable, equality exists and women and men are now in need of sexual attention; the original need for marriages are no longer there. Marriage has become more of an elective, rather than a required course. Women have a voice and rights. Women (or men) no longer need to be married to have children; men and women have a choice of being with a man or a woman. Women no longer need to change their last names, women no longer need to be married to make sure they are cared for financially; They can go to school, earn as much as a male counterpart, buy a house and ultimately, take care of themselves.

The principles of marriage are changing. Marriage is no longer just a religious, familial or financial arrangement. In fact, many couples are throwing out the church completely and getting married in non-religious ceremonies.

I am not anti-marriage at all. Marriage means a higher level of commitment with a sense of security. It shows that a couple is willing to take all of the risks because they believe in their relationship and in each other. I highly commend anyone who is able to hold it together for 25-50 years. I admire their tenacity and devotion. I can only hope and aspire to have a relationship in which we are able to stay together against all odds, including our own human instincts.

The modern day meaning of marriage has changed but perhaps in the following decades it will take on more significance and a deeper level of commitment when we realize it is never a requirement for preservation or procreation; it is not something we feel we should have to do because Mom won’t leave us alone about giving her grandchildren, when women realize it isn’t about “having your day” and being a princess; When society stops making us feel like a self-indulgent oddball because we are not married yet, or when marriage stops becoming a financial leg up for those who desire to take from someone who has worked hard for what they have. Rather, I hope marriage in the future will take on a more momentous role and become a powerful form of expression between two very committed humans who want nothing else from each other but unconditional love and a lifelong companionship.

Our Great Grandparents knew what being "GREEN" was

This "green revolution" has just become another slight annoyance to me. No, no, no. Not like the way you're thinking. Of course it makes sense to recycle, of course it makes sense to carpool and drive cars that use less gas, run our homes on solar and wind technology. All of that is great and I'm glad people are becoming aware of what a wasteful, superfluity society we have all turned into over the last 75 years. Everything going green and us getting that warm, fuzzy, feel-good-all-over when we buy it is (sometimes) another way that great marketing gets a hold of us. If we truly want to know how to live a greener life, take lessons from your Grandparents or Great Grandparents. Those are the ones who only drove ONE car, who didn't use paper towels but re-used flour bags, who knew the importance of creating a compost pile, saving paper bags to reuse, (no, there were no plastic grocery bags), re-using jelly jars for drinking glasses, growing their own food, farming, trading with neighbors, reading library books, sewing their own clothes and mending the old ones they had. When I think about my Grandparents and Great Grandparents living in the eras that they lived, surviving The Great Depression and truly being "green" in all of their practices without effort, I am reminded that "going green" is not buying organically grown, fair trade, cotton apparel, or hybrid cars or recycled toilet paper. "Being green" for them was just a way of life and who they were. It wasn't a mood evoked by the desperate need to save our planet or by marketing. They cooked and made everything from scratch. They baked their own bread, canned their own foods to last the winter months and gave the extra to neighbors. They didn't waste anything.

Cars, appliances, homes, everything was built to last 100+ years back then. There wasn't this greedy thirst to create products that would self-destruct within 2 years, only to pile up in landfills. All of these companies "going green" need to take lessons from our ancestors who created sustainable products that lasted a lifetime, rather than think they are doing something great and powerful because they are at the very best, using recycled plastics. Sometimes being green means being self-sufficient and less wasteful.

Gonzales, TX

I spent this last weekend in Gonzales, TX. My Mother and Grandparents live on the Gulf Coast of Texas so when the evacuation orders came in to flee hurricane Ike, the first place to go is Gonzales. For many of us in the family, it’s ‘Home Sweet Home’. I decided to seize the moment and flip it into a family get-together. It worked out all right and we seemed to have a good time, though the visit just wasn’t long enough. Obviously, at short notice there were no hotels available so I decided to try my luck with Bed and Breakfasts and Inns. After a few phone calls, I was able to reserve a couple of nights at the John Fauth Cottage on St. Peter Street. All of the old homes and mansions in Gonzales are named after the original owners. The homes carry on their legacies long after they’re gone. It adds so much life to this town and the stories are really quite endearing. Gonzales is a quaint town, much like Andy Griffith’s Mayberry, only it is so much richer in history and my family’s roots. Five generations, to be exact. There is something so magical and enchanting about this place. For some at first glance, it probably just looks like a small town with nothing going on; Population 7,000 and a downtown square that is in desperate need of revitalization. But I spent a few summers and Thanksgivings here as a child and it made a lasting impression on me. And this past weekend, as I sat on the porch in the evenings with my mother at the John Fauth house, I recalled the butterflies, the horned frogs, hummingbirds, fragrant floral smells, fresh picked dewberries, sandy soil beneath my feet and rock dirt roads, climbing trees and making mud pies. My life in Gonzales as a child was a long list of make believe and magical moments. Plunkett’s was the icehouse just down the road where we’d walk and buy a cold Coke in the glass bottle; My Great Grandmother’s greenhouse was my hide-away and my sister and I climbed the pecan trees and sprawling oaks. It was an enchanting retreat for me to when I was a child and here it is again, 29 years later, the place I still love to call home.