Mindful with intention - a mantra for the year ahead

For the last 48 hours or so, I have been really trying to understand this subconscious belief that it takes a new year to take active steps towards goals. If you start your fitness journey in November, it is considered "starting ahead of the new year". What real meaning does a new year have on someone's ability to embrace their goals? The real answer? Little to none. I guess we have just conditioned ourselves throughout our lives to put a start date and an end date to goals and actions or inactions. It really is quite silly when you think about it. We generally tend to slack more towards the end of the year because we have this innate belief that we will be better in the new year.

But who am I to talk? I feed right into the trend. I stopped working out regularly around October and just weaselled my way back into the gym yesterday for a yoga class. Slow starts I guess. For once though, my new years resolutions do not revolve around fitness necessarily. I am not where I want to be at. In fact, I feel like a chunky monkey most days. However, my main resolution can be applied to pretty much all areas of life.

I want to be more mindful and do more of life intentionally.

I find that a lot of my daily actions lack intention behind them. What I mean by that is, for example, let's take the time spent on my phone. I will fall into ruts randomly as soon as the morning alarm. It rings, I turn it off and I immediately grab my phone to see what I missed. I will scroll for 20 minutes and then sluggishly get out of bed. I will then rush to get ready so that I have a few minutes to drink my coffee and maybe, if time permits, grab a piece of toast. I would have a lot more time if only I hadn't spent that 20 minutes scrolling though, wouldn't I? I also am an "in the moment" poster. As soon as I snap a picture of something that I would put on my story, it immediately goes on there. Sometimes I end up deleting it at a later time simply cause I didn't quite have a reason to post it in the first place.

While that is only one of many examples, the point is, I want to be more mindful and intentional about my actions. Why do I do the things I do? How do they serve me? Can I do something in a different way to actually ensure it is done in the best way?

Another thing I want to work on is to be more slow. I live in a city that is constantly moving, living, changing and sometimes that overwhelms me. I'll often find myself dancing to its rhythm and I end up burning myself out. I want to take the time to drive home from work without trying to speed or cut someone off for being slower than me. I want to embrace the cold weather and even take a few minutes to be outside every day just to get some proper fresh air. I want to smoke a cigarette on my balcony even though I don't really actually smoke often, but the act in and of itself seems poetic to me.

I want to pay attention to every hour on the clock and how it is spent. You might think that sounds crazy but I often will complain that there are not enough hours in a day. In fact, there are a lot of hours to spend on doing things when I am not spending them on my phone or ... mostly on my phone. I tried to be more mindful this weekend with my time. I spent most of the weekend at home. I found that it is quite easy to really seize the day and get stuff done when I am not hungover, lazy, or will refuse to put down my phone.

Here I am and it's 7:04pm currently as I am writing this. I have literally accomplished everything I wanted to do this weekend and more. I even went outside of my to-do list with tasks that I didn't even know I had in me to complete. It is a nice feeling, truly.

I wonder if it is the quiet nature of January that really pushes people to get their shit together. I rarely have thought of January to be an exciting month for doing things. At least in February you have Valentine's day and St. Patties in March. By that point, the sun is out longer and you really start to spread your wings again outside. But January? January is quiet. It really is the perfect time to start on some goals I guess. While I know that there is no right answer, it's kind of fun to think of the answer to such abstract questions.

I hate to be cliché and to continue saying things like "I have a lot of ideas and goals for the year ahead" - even if I do. In some ways, I feel like I want this year to be sort of like January - quiet. I want to be quiet and work in the background. To overhear stories and conversations and to just take it all in without reacting or responding. For once, I actually want to work on me in a more serious way. I know I always say that, but this is also the first time in my life that I feel like I am becoming complacent and I don't feel great about that. I don't want to do that. I think that often times, when I am loud about my actions, it simultaneously is a time when I am really falling behind. Like I am speaking up in order to not feel as bad that I am not doing as much as I set out to do.

I think a quiet lifestyle will do me some good and I am excited for that. With a warm heart and a desire to do some cool shit with my writing this year, I am happy to be back and to welcome you all to another year of sharing words.

As always, thanks for coming to my Cez talk xo

Just a bunch of life

For a couple of weeks now I have been trying to figure out how to best articulate what this year has been about. A sort of - "let's wrap up the year and give you some inspirational bs about how you should get out there more and live it up, while also talking about the resolutions for next year". While this post will most definitely sound that way regardless, I hope that I also keep it real with you.

Let's get on the typing.

I started January with a vow to be more social. That was the plan. I wanted to step out of my comfort zone when it came to sticking to the people and places I know and grab on to a different side of living. I went to a cottage in late January and hit my head quite bad but it was fun. I was off to a great start. I dated someone briefly in January, but the leftover feelings I had for the guy from the year prior were still lingering in my head. The same day I ended things with the January guy, I also sent a risky text to the other guy to see if there was a chance we could try again. Neither worked out and that was my sign to really take my focus elsewhere. I'm pretty proud of myself for that risky text though because I was super in tune with my vulnerability and although it didn't work in my favour, I know I needed to close that chapter. Risky texts suck but they most often are exactly what you need to do.

February began with a fat traffic ticket and an abundance of tears. Honestly, now that I think about it, the beginning of this year was rough. I literally had to buy sage the next day and sage my apartment of whatever bad juju was following me around. I updated my block list on Instagram and moved on with life. Valentines day was literally one of the best nights I had this year. My girlies all got together in very festive clothing and we went out on the town. It made me re-gain a sense of myself to some extent and come to terms that the romantic side of relationships doesn't need to be present in order for me to feel love. It was around then that I decided that I just didn't want anyone in my life romantically.

I think that was one of the best choices I made this year. In all reality, I had a lot of healing to do and I could have only done that if I took a step back from trying to fill my life up romantically. I focused on literally anything else. I got my lips done again, booked two trips and started kickboxing.

I loved March. It was a reminder that I am happiest when I actively work on myself and the things I care for. I won a sweet radio contest for some concert tickets, got on the pre-registration for Tomorrowland Brazil, and went to my first ever country concert. I took myself out to the movies, reconnected with old friends who had moved to the city and dyed my hair purple. I was LIVING.

I started April with a trip to Europe by myself. My first solo trip in 6 years. I spent some time in Berlin, Amsterdam and Zaandam. It was probably top 5 favourite memories of my year. It was actually ridiculous how many people I met, how many friends I made, and how incredibly resilient I was to have done this entirely on my own without shedding a single tear. My heart literally warms up every single time I think about the really fricken cool people I came across, who took me under their wing and we were able to share all of those experiences together. I came back home just in time for baseball season and summer was literally right around the corner.

I intended to transform this blog in May and change trajectories a bit in terms of content and how it would be distributed. However, the thought of doing that ended up stressing me out and I ended up not writing for about a month because I just couldn't handle the pressure. May was tough at work and my life was beginning to shift gears from a personal standpoint as well so I just needed to take a step back from it all. I went slightly ghost and focused on work and getting myself set up for the months ahead. I celebrated my dad's birthday at home with the family and we got to see him achieve a goal he's had since he was in his teens - he flew a plane. I had a beach day and looked forward to the summer in the city.

What is June if not the best month of the year? It is my birthday afterall. I put my besties in a car and headed out to Windsor to celebrate my birthday. We had a weekend filled with fun, laughter and so much alcohol. I got to see so many friends and it was kind of cool to have my two worlds come together - my Toronto friends met my Windsor friends. My heart was so stinking happy.

I finally went on a first date in July. He was hot and a gentleman but we weren't a good fit. I went on a Canada day long weekend trip with the girls and met one of my internet friends after keeping in touch for nearly 3 years. My sisters came to visit, I went to a baseball game, had a couple beach days and caught up with a friend I hadn't talked to in years. Summer was underway and every day felt like a new adventure. Typing this in December really makes me miss the days when the sun was still hot by the time I'd get out of work and I could walk down the street from my apartment with a blanket and plop myself in the grass to read a book. I also dyed my hair RED.

I went on another first date in August that was really good. So good that I decided to see him a second time. And then he fucked it up. That experience turned me off about dating again and I decided I was once again not going to pursue the whole romantic side of things. The reality was that I was doing so well healing from the past that I felt good about having someone in my life, but I only wanted someone if they were going to be good potentials for a long-term partner. August guy sucked overall. After ending things with August guy, I accompanied a really old friend as his date to the wedding of his best friend. That night felt so great because it reminded me of all the reasons love is worth it. With an optimistic view on love, I continued my summer with my girls. I went to Goatchella, got into running in my neighbourhood and hot girl morning walks, and spent a lot of time in the sun.

September was a whirlwind of emotions. I went to Vegas labour day weekend and someone from my past reached out to tell me I was the one who got away. I had sworn him off three years ago and I couldn't bear the thought of going back to someone that had previously done me wrong. Since his text came while I was drunk in my hotel room, I figured I could blame it on the alcohol if we didn't keep in touch much afterwards. I focused on the memories I was making with my friends, the artists I got to see live, the birthday party we had for my mom. He didn't give up though, and come the end of September, we were talking every day.

I started October with him and I just quite frankly got deep in my feelings about it. He was someone I spent a lot of time with in the past and all those emotions came rushing back. He did me wrong three years ago but there was room to grow from there and he was showing me that growth. We were having adult conversations and he was expressing a lot of remorse for how younger him handled the situation between us. As things were starting to become interesting, I hopped on a plane and went to Brazil which was such an iconic trip. From the blatant insanity of just being in Rio, to conquering one of my life goals of going to Tomorrowland, I did it all. I don't think there is a way to truly put into words how absolutely unreal that trip was. It was so good that I completely forgot the part where I was legitimately fighting for my life with a burning fever on the flight home and had to nurse myself back to health for a full week after.

By November, me and him were having conversations about our plans for the future. What we wanted in terms of family dynamics, career paths, kids, appropriate ages to settle down and be a family-oriented person. He asked me if I would consider moving. I felt insanely secure in everything that was going on. And then, a mere 12 hours before I was about to hop on a flight and head out on my last trip of the year, we got into something that I can't even call an argument because it was so dumb and insignificant. Yet, for some reason, he took a silent treatment approach to it and before I knew it, I got ghosted. At first I thought this was a literal joke, there was no way that he would do that. By the time I got back from my trip though, it was crystal clear that he did indeed ghost me. I was hurt but it was also perfectly intelligible that I have absolutely no room in my life for someone who would do that and who doesn't have the capacity to communicate through issues. On the bright side, I did not let this ruin my trip. Afterall, I was on a party resort in the Dominican. And so I drowned my sorrows in alcohol and went on with life. Met some really cool people, made friends, ate good food, but also got some serious tummy aches. I came back home feeling grateful for my friends, family and for the fact that I felt like for once in my life, I chose to respect my boundaries. That was growth af.

And so, here we are and it's December. I am content, I am full of ideas for the future and I am excited for the year ahead. I have two trips already booked, and plan on getting a whole lot closer to 30 countries by the end of the year. For once, I am ready to just focus on staying healthy, active and happy. I don't really care for finding "the love of my life" anymore and I am not stressing that. I simply want to be happy in whatever capacity that is. I am open to connections and to love, but I will let that be as it may and come to me whenever the timing is right. I am simply so done with letting myself down, my boundaries to shit and accepting anything less than what I really deserve. I am excited to be going home next weekend and to spend the holidays with my family and friends. I am excited to have the last few days of the year with my loved ones. I am just so excited.

I hear that 2024 is a Gemini year and boy, let me tell you that I am amped to step into my ultimate powerful girl era. I am ready to live it up and welcome with open arms, all who want to be part of this awesome journey ahead.

So this will likely be the last time you hear from me until the new year. I am quite frankly burnt out, unmotivated and feeling quite lazy. But, until we reunite in the new year, I just want to share a few more words -

Be brave, be confident and please never stray away from who you are. Be authentic in everything you do and all that you are. Love hard but make sure to love yourself first. Say yes to adventures and opportunities and everything in between. There is only one of you and that person needs to be celebrated. Make sure you live in the moment and you take a break from always thinking about what is to come next. Sometimes, where you are is exactly where you need to be and that in and of itself, should be celebrated.

Last but not least, make sure you have goals. Whether they are short-term ones or ones that are super long-term, make sure you never become complacent. You are meant to evolve, to be better than the year before. Don't go through life simply existing, but rather, make life matter.

And as always, thanks a lot for coming to my Cez talk this year xo

My heart still breaks for you every day

I can sit here and say that I love you, but the reality is that the love can only be attributed to the memories. To the places, to the smell in the air. In reality, my love for you, while multi-faceted, can only last so long when day in and day out, I am reminded of all the reasons I have to walk away and never come back. There's nothing left here for me except the memories of what was. Going back would simply be a return to what I know for a fact to no longer serve me. I'm not even sure that you would take me back either, not if you didn't have anything substantial to gain from me. So is it worth it? Or do we eventually actually walk away from each other and leave the past in the past?

I was born in Romania in 1995 to a middle class family. I would say that I had a normal upbringing but I'm not sure that's true. My parents worked way too hard and fought way too often for that to be considered normal, but that was my normal. In reality, we had first world problems and were never starving, prosecuted or living in fear (at least I don't think). That being said, I always felt like my childhood was less than.

I was always a smart cookie and that, surprisingly, got me places. In my middle school years, I attended the best school in the city and I did that on account of my intellect and not because my parents paid my way through. It was painfully obvious though that I was there because I was smart. On day 3 of grade 5, I was called out by a classmate for wearing the same shirt two days in a row. She asked me if my parents didn't have enough money to get me a different shirt for every day of the week. While I hold no grudge against her, I remember to this day what her full name was because she made me feel like I was less than. It was around then that I became fully aware that my heart was already breaking and I wish that I could give young me a hug cause she was way too young to have to feel that way.

Within a few months at this school, it became clear whose families had money. Those kids always had those ringlet notebooks and coloured gel pens. I had glue binded notebooks and just your average pen. These things made a difference and while it seems absolutely ridiculous to think about these days, those were the things that told you apart in middle school society. That Christmas, I begged my parents for school supplies that matched the other kids in the classroom. I think that broke their hearts a little cause they didn't want me to feel left out. The reality was that a normal notebook was about a quarter of the price of a ring binded notebook. It realistically shouldn't have mattered so long as you had paper and a pen to write, but it mattered.

I didn't really understand these things until much later in life. When my parents got the green light to immigrate to Canada, I resented them for it. As broken as my heart was every day living in Romania, it was what I knew and I was comfortable in that. It was like that really toxic relationship that you don't have the heart to leave cause you'd rather cry in the relationship than be entirely on your own. My heart broke further when I was on that plane heading a world away from anything I ever knew.

It took about 9 years to come to terms with the fact that Canada was that really nice love that I got only after I had my heart torn to shreds and I pushed it to the side because I longed for the one thing that would continuously break my heart if I went back to it. Canada gave me notebooks and school supplies for free and didn't ask for anything in return. Yet I longed for the agony I knew Romania gave my parents with those damned ringlet binded notebooks. Canada gave me the bicycle I never had growing up, simply cause my dad and I loved checking out garage sales. Canada healed a heart that I had no idea was broken, not until 9 years after my parents made me say good bye to Romania.

In June 2017, I went back to my first ever love, Romania. My parents refused to return so I went on my own to make sure I understood why I loved Romania so much still after 9 years apart. The air smelled the same, the places were just as I remembered and yet, something was different. My once naive and young eyes saw the realities of everything that drove my parents away from home in the first place. With every day that passed, I began understanding that their efforts to leave - which took a long time to come to fruition anyway - they were completely justified. My once juvenile way of thinking that they took me away from everything I loved, finally made sense. Romania was no longer the place I longed for for belongingness.

It's been 6 years since then and I haven't gone back since. I think I'd do a disservice to myself if I did. I have a weird relationship with the country now. I still love the places and the air and the people that are dear to me but I no longer crave a sense of belongingness to the land. I don't feel a sort of patriotism. I mostly just add the flag emoji to my name to identify myself as not being part of only one nation. I am Romanian first after all. But that, in and of itself creates confusion - people ask questions. When was the last time you went back? Do you go back often? Why not? When's the next time you will go?

What am I supposed to tell them? That Romania just doesn't feed my soul anymore? That I feel no sense of belonging to the land despite my name absolutely screaming association to it? That I'd rather speak English when I'm there so I am not associated with all other Romanians? That I just would rather say I'm Canadian? That I don't really have Romanian friends here because it's a sad reminder of everything I don't feel I belong to?

I know it sucks to read. Trust me, it sucks for me to write. To feel alienated from everything you are while feeling weird that you don't entirely feel like you belong in the new place either. It feels like my name is Cezara in a world full of Sally's. Like my last name is Chesu in a world full of Smith's.

I know I don't have to pick one or the other - that they can both co-exist. In all honesty, I always hoped that I'd marry someone Romanian just so that I can feel closer to everything I was brought up to know. While that still is a possibility, I feel far removed from those roots. I guess to some extent I resent it. But with that said, everything that happened brought me to where I am today and while my heart is still broken, I've found solace in knowing that I don't owe anyone an explanation for not wanting to go back "home". That I am perfectly okay being here - and that's enough.

I know this might upset some of you but I will say this - my writing would suck if I wasn't authentic. It wouldn't be me if I was careful about every single word and making sure that it is neutral enough as to not upset anyone. I hope you can join me in understanding that this is my own mental turmoil and I don't expect anyone to join my mentality. I just frankly say what I feel and feel what I say for those of you who might be able to relate or frankly, might be trying to understand me a little better.