Words by Ayrïd Chandler

Those Ramblings

I live in my brain. There’s running commentary 24/7, visuals both realistic and magical, thoughts, questions, images, memories constantly on loop always. This exhausts me, which is one of the reasons why I started writing. It was (is?) a place for me to take everything happening in there and put it somewhere else so I could stop thinking about it. It’s kind of like when you have an ear worm, that song that you can’t get out of your head and as soon as you listen to it, you’re good, and it’s gone. That’s what writing does for me. And yet, I hardly write. It’s always a battle for me to actually go from thoughts to words on a page. I hate to use psychology jargon as a scape goat but it feels a bit like self sabotage. I’ve identified the “problem”, I’ve found a healthy way to deal with the “problem” but I refuse to do it.

I’ve noticed this trend in other areas of my life.

I’m really great at identifying and acknowledging the thing, whatever it is. I’m also really great at finding solutions. But somehow my brain stops there. The next step, one might say the most important aspect, putting it all into action, I can’t seem to do. Full freeze. It’s like my brain goes, “Okay I’ve done enough work figuring out what the problem was and finding a solution, someone else needs to implement this, not me!” Is it laziness? Is it exhaustion? Is it fear of failure? Is it learnt behaviour? Is it entitlement? Is it all and none of the above?

I’m curious if anyone else has noticed this in themselves and how you’ve dealt with it. Or maybe as an outsider you may have a different viewpoint. Share your thoughts in the comments please. (And thanks for reading my ramblings 🙂)

Fat

As a girl who grew up in the 90s and 2000s, self esteem has always been a struggle especially when it comes to my physical appearance. In my 20s, I had a mini rebirth, fixed my outlook and started to love me for me, all that positive, self appreciation ish. I came into my own. Fast forward to that global pandemic we all love to hate. My mental health tanked, my self discipline became nonexistent and I ATE EVERYTHING.

High cholesterol, fibroids and a belly so big I can’t see my own vagine anymore, I am right back to the start, that girl struggling with self esteem and her physical appearance. I did not see this coming. I know they say life is just cycles, history repeats itself blah blah blah. But me, feeling like my teenage self at 32 years was not in the books. It now takes me an average of 2 hours to get to the shower and figure out something to wear that will be comfortable, look good, and hopefully make me feel better about this new body I’ve grown into. (I’ve never not been able to see my down there before, this is some scary shit!)

And for the people like me, reading this and thinking, well just fucking stop eating everything and exercise, yes, I agree! 100%. How though? I enjoy walking, so I thought I’d try walking my dog more often. Happens once every other week if I’m lucky. Free yoga on YouTube? Once! I started going to the market and only cooking local healthy foods. Fizzled out after 3 weeks. I’ve written all about my struggles with consistency before but I’m learning now that my bigger issue is that I no longer enjoy my own company. I’m relying (heavily) on others to do all of these things. I have run out of the energy or desire to continue being my own cheerleader. It feels like I’ve used up everything to get at this point in life and now I’m ready to hand the baton over to someone else. I am tired of doing it alone. But here I am, fat and very much alone. How did my life become this?

And this is not meant to be a fat-phobic post, this is a why am I Failing All Things post. This is personal. I am uncomfortable. I do not like this version of myself and I guess I’m writing it down to put words to the thoughts and feelings to help move beyond them and put action and energy towards what’s next. Right? Right?

Three

I’ve been thinking a lot about what three years mean, and also why I make such a big deal about birthdays and anniversaries. It’s like Carnival, it is permission to mash up the place, or more realistically, permission from the universe to be extra on this one day. I like the uniformity of it, the predictability, the ability to plan and prepare and celebrate in an orderly manner. It’s weird. But back to 3.

Ever since I first worked with 3canal in 2016, I’ve had an intimate relationship with the number 3 and all the meanings in numerology. (Roger made sure of it!)

My Bali trip solidified the divinity of threes, with their way of life centred around a different trilogy.

Tri Hita Karana
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Tri Hita Karana is a traditional philosophy for life on the island of Bali, Indonesia. The literal translation is roughly the “three causes of well-being” or “three reasons for prosperity.”^[1]

The three causes referred to in the principle are:

Harmony with God
Harmony among people
Harmony with nature or environment

So here I am 3 years as a business. 9 years as a college graduate. Turning 33 in 9 months. And in a state of major growth, change, new experiences and an openness that is newer than anything I’ve ever experienced. What does it all mean? Does it need to mean anything? I pride myself on being this controlling yet free spirit that plans a lot but also goes with the wind and this year just seems like such a jumping board where what’s next is completely up in the air. I have no clue what the future holds. I have plans but I also am open to whatever else comes my way and I’m really looking forward to living, for the first time in a really long time.

Random personal fact: I hate flowers. But I picked each of these because they spoke to me in a different way.

Symbolising growth in a portrait is a fun excuse to avoid the reality of actually growing. Lol. I kid. I’ve somehow managed to achieve goals and things that weren’t goals but definitely should’ve maybe been on the list. This year has been full of so much change and adapt, adapt, adapt.

Looking forward to talking more, teaching more, learning more and growing more. I am open to all new opportunities that may come my way, and I am continuously taking care of my mental health so that I can handle all of the abundance that is to come.

Talk to me nice though. Keep in mind I’m an artist and I’m sensitive about my ish.

Lose My Breath

In the past couple weeks and days, I’ve had cause to lose my breath more times than I’d like to admit. Gasps of surprise. Gasps of hurt. Gasps of despair. And quite literal gasps for air because of the extra pounds I put on along with Mexico City’s thinner air.

Part 1: A new job. I recently said yes to a position that means more responsibility, more work and more ways I can equally become extremely stressed and/or extremely satisfied professionally.

Part 2: Space. Not like outer space but more like that dreaded “I need space” talk. Like wtf. Really? Gasps for air. From me? Clutches chest. I can’t breathe. Nothing quite like the gut punch reality check of a lover turned stranger.

Part 3: Family Realities. Traveling with family is a new concept for me. I’m an only child from a family that put zero effort into family vacations. I do not know how to share a space with someone who is my blood, with someone who is me. What life altering madness is this? Just breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe.

Part 4: CDMX. “The air is so thiccck and opaqqque” except no, not that Adele, it’s more like thin needles slicing your windpipe. Cold. Light-headed. Nausea. This can’t be real life. Three flights of steps because the elevador is broken. A face mask because COVID.

I find myself struggling to breathe daily, struggling to grasp the reality of my various situations, struggling to accept and let be and also literally struggling to breathe in a strange country that my CAPE level Spanish did not prepare me for. Constant fluctuations have me inhaling for 4, exhaling for 5, attempting to regain control of what I can, attempting to breathe.

Allow me to reintroduce myself

My name is HOV…no, actually, my name is Ayrïd and I suffer from inconsistency. And it’s bad. I struggle to keep going, with basically anything I do. I get inspired, I get started, I do the thing for a while and then, I give up. I’ve been this way since I was a child. It’s probably why I’ve done literally every extra-curricular activity but never excelled at any. The only thing I managed to consistently stick with is choir, and design. And it’s been a struggle. I need time away, I need breaks, and if I’m committed enough to it, I’ll return after. And it’s taken me thirty-two years to finally figure out that this is a trait I have, separate and apart from depression, or any other “negative” traits, this is the way I am and have always been.

As I try to do more things, as my creativity grows, as I aspire to grow my business and my life, realising this trait of mine is step one on the cheat code to this life thing. I have beat myself up about this trait ad nauseum for years. The guilt, the disappointment, the failure were all crippling elements that have further contributed to the lack of flow. This takes commitment issues to a whole other level.

So step two has to be, how can I use this information and yet be more consistent in my life? Do I continuously apologise for disappearing, giving up, running away, being inconsistent or do I plan for it? Can I structure my life in such a way where I pause right before I am about to give up, and then plan to start again? And is this all easier said than done?

Even the act of writing on this blog has been something I beat myself up about not being consistent enough with, but as we survive through this current time, I am getting fed up of beating myself up, the world is doing enough of that for me already. So in this long winded self discovery, I’m sharing to hopefully inspire someone else to use your shortcoming to your advantage, figure out what’s that thing you’re not so great at, and then figure out how to do what you want to do, in spite of it. Easier said than done, I know, but let’s give it a try!

Excuse me while I go be consistently inconsistent.