Running To Hoard

“You know, I use to remember when my grandmother would always tell me “take a breath”. It would make me so mad. The simple action of taking a breath seemed so silly then. Its only when I began to really open my eyes that I began to see that I was taking so much in my life for granted. See, even the simple act of breathing wasn’t really that simple after all. I realized how much I never noticed how quickly I inhaled right after an exhale. How effortlessly the next breath comes; automatic, almost with no thought. Just impulsively, in full support of me.

I only began to think about these things after reading those pages. And it wasn’t right after. It was a journey. See, I had to realize how lost I really was during that time in my life.

I had to understand that I had to “find myself, to myself”.

I am a 33-year-old doctorate student. I finally found the courage to have dreams when I set myself free. Free from Me.

Today I’m here to share with all of you what I call a “hidden gem”. This is a story of a life changing experience that has inspired the rest of my life.

I have always been a runner. A runner and someone who holds on to too many things. Yes, exactly. A runner and a hoarder. I’ve always run from my problems. Literally ran from certain environments, jobs, people and things just to preserve what little dignity and courage I thought I had. I hoarded resentment, guilt, and material things that I thought would fulfill me. I walked around in the world with so much shame. Unnoticed, unacknowledged, unknowingly holding on to pain, to destruction, to chaos. And this was all to preserve what I thought was my sanity. Man was I wrong.

That day I had enough. He took all my clothes and most of my shoes and lit them on fire. Yes, exactly. Like Waiting to Exhale, except this was my real life. I couldn’t take it anymore. I packed up some belongings, packed my car and set out for a long drive. I figured, by the time he got off work, I’d already be gone. I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew far.

Hours into the trip I began getting multiple calls. I put him on my block list and continued to drive. It was almost 6pm and the sun was going down. It also began to snow a few hours into the trip and the roads were really slippery. It seemed like the snow got heavier by the minute as I pulled out my phone and began to search for nearby hotels. My heart raced as I winded around the street. As I gazed down my stomach became in knots.

As I continued to drive 30 mph below the speed limit, I finally saw a sign for an exit. In that moment I began to feel a glimmer of hope. With the hope came a flood of other emotion. Lonely. Sad. Shameful. Angry. Lost.

I began to think about wanting a better relationship with my family, and that time I became enraged at my mother because she told me that buying a new house wasn’t going to make me happy. That was the moment. I haven’t spoken to her for 5 years because of that. Not because of her, because of me. I just can’t face her knowing that she was right. That I overreacted so horribly. Deep inside I’m embarrassed to face her, and I’ve let it define me ever since.

I went through a phase where I just splurged on everything. A new motorcycle that I never rode. A new rental property that only gave me more responsibility and dissatisfaction. Tons of jewelry that I felt I didn’t deserve. Multiple pairs of shoes that I never wore. So many clothes. Home furniture that didn’t match. Tons of vacation packages that I cannot keep track of. Literally anything I could get my hands on.

I guess this was the downfall of coming from a wealthy family. I’ve never been pushed to do anything. I’ve always gotten everything. Everything I could imagine.

The problem was with my imagination. I didn’t know that then. But I know that now. All I could imagine were things that my parents could buy. Things I thought I wanted because it was going to make me happy.

I squinted as the snow began to aggressively hit the window. I thought about the ruins of my life as I anxiously neared towards the exit. How destructive it had become. How instability has only followed me. Shame has encompassed me. And hope only glimmered in the mere moments where emptiness was forced to be forgotten. I had been searching for those moments. The moments devoid of emptiness.

I was so lost in my thoughts and the snow was so heavy that I caught the exit at the corner of my eye. I was passing it up! I began to anxiously tap the breaks with the understanding that stepping on the breaks too quickly would only make me slide. But almost as if within the moment that the word “slide” crossed my mind, it triggered my brain to do it.

As I began to turn, I slid into the snow. I remember screaming and then realizing I was stuck. As I continued to rev up the car, I only dug myself deeper.

I remember stopping and frustratedly looking for my phone. And that’s where I discovered it.

So right before I began my trip I went through a phase where I was uber driving to prove to my parents that they didn’t have to take care of my grown 23-year-old ass. I also was trying to gain some independence over my boyfriend. The one I was currently leaving. And therefore, I began to drive uber, because I had no other skills. My parents basically paid my way through grade school. I failed through virtually everything. But the “No student left behind act” and my parents robust bank account was convincing enough to keep me at my private school. I had no real hobbies as a child other than shopping and yelling. I really was a mess.

As I anxiously searched for my cell phone, I pulled down the middle compartment in the back seat for no apparent reason because thinking back, I don’t know how my phone would be there. But I pulled it down and my phone wasn’t there.

But the little black book was. At first, I tossed it. Both confused and irritated by its presence. In the initial second I really thought it was my phone, but it was this book. This little black book that I didn’t acknowledge until after Triple A came to my rescue. I called Triple A and they took so long, I fell asleep in which I nearly froze to death by the time they arrived.

From there, AAA followed me all the way to a nearest hotel. I finally felt some relief. But it wasn’t until I saw the black book again that my anxiety crept back in. “What is with this black book?”, I remember thinking. “It must have been an uber riders” I thought. I should probably try to return it was another thought. Then I grabbed the book, threw it in my purse and checked into my hotel.

It was such a relief to be lying on a comfortable bed. As I lay there, I thought about the need for a long, hot shower. I jumped up, dumped out my purse looking for my soaps, my hair cremes and my lotions. As I grabbed for my things, I once again stumbled over the black book. I remember picking it up and looking at it, pausing for a second and then tossing it back on the comforter.

It was a plain black book. A tiny little book. An odd shaped little book, almost completely square. It was a little black book.

After my shower, I sat on the bed and I opened the book to a random page. All it said was, “BREATH” in bold letters. I remember thinking like, “really? I built up all that anticipation for this”.

I didn’t know it was going to require patience, determination and faith. And this wasn’t just to enjoy the book. This was referring to what I had been missing in life. And it wasn’t the patience, the determination, or the faith. It was going to take that to fulfill me, but that wasn’t the final result. I had to find myself to myself.

I closed the book and then randomly selected a new page. This page read: “Look within to be without”.

I was confused by this one. Then I flipped again, another: Breath. I remember thinking the book was rather strange. I remember putting it down, ordering room service and drifting to sleep.

When I woke up in the morning, he was fresh on my mind. That’s when I began to worry, feel guilt, and feel pain. I remember questioning my actions. I mean, what was I really doing? I had no plan. No direction. I abandoned my family along time ago. And I loved this man. Why not go back? That had been the story of my life.

I remember getting up, going to the bathroom and sitting back on my bed with the little black book almost staring at me. I mean it seemed to just overwhelm every waking moment as soon as I realized it was there. I remember mostly trying to avoid it but also wanting to satisfy my curiosity.

I made it across country at this point and I was approaching Arizona. I had never been to Arizona as it was very far from my NY home and just as far from my Pennsylvania address that I shared with my boyfriend. I decided to settle in Arizona. This was day 7.

Day 7 I opened up the first page of the little black book. It read: Find myself to myself.

Day 8 became difficult. I began to reminisce and feel nostalgic.

Every page I opened that night read; Take a breath. And then finally the last page read: Free yourself to Yourself.

3months passed and it hit me one day.

I realized I still loved him and that was ok. That I may even have still wanted to be with him but accepted that it could not be. While also hating his actions and judging his character, I realized that it all could be true and that didn’t make him a bad person. That it didn’t make my decision wrong either. Whether I went or I stayed, it was my path to journey. I realized I had to journey it to really understand the meaning. I realized I had to get through the chaos to find the peace. That it was ok to be still and face it. That running only kept me closer to the pain. That actually less was more, and these external things I was chasing couldn’t fulfill me. I realized there was something bigger waiting for me.

In that moment I realized that to lose him would mean I found myself. And that was the greatest gift of all.

I was truly grateful and at peace. I was truly fulfilled and forever changed. Thanks to that little black book. I remember shaking my head and then smiling while thinking, “To lose him would mean I found myself”. Suddenly, everything was ok.

That’s when my journey back home to NY began. And that’s when I finally understood that I had to find myself to myself. I had to find myself to be myself.

As the applause dissipated, she calmly walked off stage. That was her first Ted Talk. Another fear transcended.