Perseverance.

Perseverance: NOUN – persistence in doing something despite difficulty.

Whenever I hear this word, I usually think of ALL the good things.

Positivity! Power! Productivity! All the P words!

I think of success. I think of drive. I think of grit.

I think of finish lines and sweat.

I think of my son’s never-ending stream of questioning or posturing, despite being told, “THE ANSWER IS NO,” a thousand times.

I think of the salt crystals that form on my face when I’m running a difficult trail during a snow storm (true story).

I think of World War II. The soldiers, the civilians, the survivors.

Again, all the good things.

Lately, though, I find myself contemplating the dark and wild side of perseverance – the spoiled version of its shiny first impression.

…Hear me out.

I am sure if you asked any of my friends and family, they would probably say I am a flurry of constant activity. I have trouble sitting still. I am constantly shaking my knees. I have this almost innate drive to pack my day with tasks and chores. At night, I will even compromise my sleep time so that I can read a book.

At work, you will find that I am not that chatty because I just want to complete whatever projects that are pending. I just want to get things done at all costs. My forehead is usually scrunched because I am wholly focused on the task at hand. This hardworking ethos was built into my core by my parents. They have always touted the belief that if you work hard, you will succeed in life.

My need to persevere was put under deep scrutiny when my mom (the Dragon mom of all Dragon moms) came over one day and told me that I am absolutely not allowed to work this weekend. I mean, really? The woman who used to pack my daily schedule with back-to-back appointments (Sundays included) since I was 5 years old. The woman who only thought an A+ was acceptable to take home. The woman who tricked me into spending all my childhood summers at an academic summer camp. This fire-breathing woman was worried that I was becoming a shell of myself.

Now this is where my dark thoughts of perseverance come into play. Echoing its definition – if you persist in doing something, despite difficulty, many would say that you are a strong person and that you will go far in life. And you know what? In an overwhelming amount of cases, of course this is true. You simply cannot deny that effort can lead to tangible results. I do not regret the long hours I have put into practicing piano, or studying for exams, or helping my patients.

But now I think that I have to take extra care in the things that I choose to persist doing. I am at a point in my life that my persistence needs to be directed in ways that garner the life I actually want. I want to help people on my terms and with my own agenda (not to meet metrics and save money). I want to explore my creative mind and use it not only to touch others, but also to fertilize my heart and soul. I do not want to lose touch of myself or the world around me.

I want to cultivate that wonder my children have for anything they see in front of them. I want to show them that they can be a positive force in this world and be present for the things in life that really matter. Your time with your family and friends, and your time with the natural world.

It’s funny because my fear of failure is one of the main forces behind my perseverance to do things that I do not necessarily love. But as I get older, I realize that the perseverance that I have executed in my life so far, might lead me to failure anyway. Because I will lose time with the people I love.

On this note – I will carry on! I will still persist, despite difficulty. I will still clock in grueling miles.

However, I will now make a conscious effort to persist only for the things that matter.

To the things that matter:
my son trying to be funny in the midst of these creepy children statues.

Zero to Six

“You say it allllll the time, Mom.”

Victor Escalona, Age 5, with tears in his eyes – referring to the phrase, “I hate you.”

Now that quote seems kind of horrible considering it is referring to my propensity to say, “I hate you,” all the time. Well, it IS pretty horrible. I did not realize I said that phrase often enough for my son to not only notice, but to also use it on his younger sister.

I came home late from work one day. My husband mentioned to me that he overheard our son whispering, “I hate you,” to his baby sister. Of course, my husband got very upset. He proceeded to lecture our son throughout the day about how mean it was to say those words and even sent Victor to his room to play alone and think about what he said.

My immediate reaction was shock and disappointment. I went straight to our son’s room to discover why he would say that to his sister. Knowing that he already received enough discipline from my husband, I just opened a conversation with him.

Me: Victor, I know Daddy already talked to you about saying, “I hate you.” It’s not a nice thing to say. Did you know that?

Victor: I know that. Daddy already said that.

Me: So then why did you say that to Jolie?

Victor: You say that allllll the time to Auntie Ga on the phone.

He looked up at me with so many tears in his eyes that my chest tightened. I was responsible for his strict discipline that day. And he probably did not realize that hurt and pain are the usual flavors for “I hate you.” I usually say it jokingly to my friends as a phrase of endearment (pretty tasteless, I know). Victor most likely thought that “I hate you,” was simply a funny thing to say and then he unfortunately got in trouble for it.

This was just another quick eye-opener for me to really scrutinize what I say. But I also found it very, very interesting that Victor pictured that phrase as a funny one in his head. It is cool to see that the way we use and say words affects the way children interpret them. I can start saying “bogus,” in a way that sounds angry and Victor will think it is a bad word. Not that I will ever do it that…

Now, on to running!

I ran my first official trail race since giving birth to Jolie. It was 6 miles. It kicked my ass. I fell UP the mountain within the first five minutes of starting the race. Embarrassing? Not really. I have always been the prototypical clumsy person who trips on her own feet. However, I gained a pretty wicked scar on my knee. I did not realize how badly I injured myself until the race was over. It looked like a lacrosse ball had grown on top of my knee. Flesh was visible. Blood was EVERYWHERE. Sorry, no pictures for the gore-thirsty people.

Despite the unsightliness of the scar, I am glad I have it. Reminds me to always be hyper aware of my feet while on trails. More importantly, it reminds me to be more present. I used to think that mindfulness was a load of spoiled marshmallow fluff fed to us by self-help gurus. Now, I try to practice it daily.

It is easy to escape into your head to hide from the reality in front of you – to hide behind a mindless game or a mind numbing book. However, I found that when I simply revel in the moment, I am more content. This “moment” could be anything from washing dishes to watching my kids sleep or play. Any moment can be profound if I just choose to be fully present. I am still no where near the zen that Eckhart Tolle promises. I am only trying to slowly stretch this sense of presence throughout my entire day.

Alas, I must end this here. Sleep beckons, and my mind cannot drum up a pertinent closing to this post.

20 for 20

I am finally giving in and writing an official blog article. I have procrastinated greatly, considering that I obtained this site about one year ago. Who knows where this will take me or who this blog may inspire or entertain, but I am surrendering. I am not going to trouble this audience with an extensive background story. Rather, I am choosing to move along organically and explain things as I go.

In preparation for 2020, my eldest sister roped me into an accountability game. My sisters and I created a “20 for 20” list of goals we want to accomplish this year. Here’s mine:

Note: Bolded items are already in progress.

1. Sing one song in its entirety at least once a day.

2. Read 6 non-fiction books (one every other month).

3. Write 1 blog article at the beginning of each month.

4. Train safely for a half marathon and continue ultra marathon training.

5. Take Victor (and Jolie, if weather permits) on a walk outside on a trail or at a park at least twice a month.

6. Transfer my piano from my parents’ home to my house.

7. Play piano for a least 5 productive minutes a day once the piano is acquired and tuned.

8. Catch up with a friend at least once a week.

9. Perform at least 3 strict pull ups.

10. Meditate at least 3 times a week.

11. Continue to drink 90 ounces of water each day.

12. Fit into an old pair of jeans.

13. Declutter the garage.

14. Prune the front and back yards.

15. Declutter my closet and donate excess to the Philippines.

16. Take Victor and Jolie outside of NJ to a place where they can appreciate the outdoors.

17. Have a date night with my husband at least once a month.

18. Cook more and eat at the dinner table.

19. Teach Victor how to swim properly.

20. Teach Victor how to bike without training wheels.

Choosing to focus on items 2, 3, and 5 for today.

Six non-fiction books may not seem like a lofty goal. However, this is in addition to the fiction books I read weekly (about 3 per week). I feel like my brain has been stagnating and hopefully the non-fiction morass will jumpstart my neurons. I hope to finish the following books within the next 3-4 months.

These are stacked in the order I hope to read them. Yes, there are 2 fiction books in here. Also, I’ve read A New Earth already. I plan to read it repeatedly.

I opted to low-ball the amount of blog articles I will publish because I wanted to actually accomplish this goal each month. I toyed around with the idea of weekly articles, but this idea died before I could even voice it aloud. I know myself enough to foresee that if I fail at weekly blogs, I will completely shut down and shun writing. My overarching goal is mainly to grease my writing gears and get them to move incessantly. My perfectionist upbringing has prevented me from committing to writing in the past. I chose to dive right in, without drafting. I feel pretty wild.

And now my final thought for today. I want my children to both appreciate and feel empowered by nature. I want them to yearn the outdoors, no matter the weather. I want them to be amazed by whatever they observe on our walks outside. My hope is that as adults, they will respect and preserve nature and inspire others to do the same.

My son was my personal reconnaissance while walking at Washington Valley Park.

Maybe this list will inspire you. If anything, it is pushing me to improve my dismal blogging skills.