Don’t Wait ‘til You’re Ready

Right after I graduated college, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. All I wanted to do was move to New York City and become a model like I’d always dreamed of, but how? It felt like there was so much money, time, and work between my dreams and I.

Now, here I am, with all these experiences that tell me I’ve accomplished some semblance of my dream, and with an equal amount telling me I’ve fallen short and nothing has been good enough.

But if I could go back in time and show my then-self what my present reality looks like, he would be so relieved to know all the hard work was worth something. So, my challenge today is trusting that every tomorrow is leading me to this same experience. If my former self knew the successes he’d experience – would that relieve some anxiety? Can I adopt that same energy into my present-day life, knowing everything is going to work out?

The only problem is, the human mind quickly adapts to new things, and that whole “grass is green on the other side” saying is totally true. So, how can I hold my future dreams at the forefront of my mind, yet allow myself to be deeply connected with My Now today? Because as much hope as tomorrow can provide, it is still not guaranteed, so how can I make My Today the best it can possibly be?

I choose to allow myself to simply Be today. With all the work ahead and all the distance I still have from my new goals, it’s OK to Be. It’s OK to enjoy. It’s OK to take a break. Everything is going to work out, and if it doesn’t, then it doesn’t.

Acceptance is my elixir.

Crash Course

Hey, I’m Myles. We may know each other, or this may be your first time stumbling upon me in the leafy abundance of the online forest. I’m here writing to you from my apartment in Ridgewood, Queens in New York City. I’m a 29 year-old writer, realtor and model. My mission for this blog is to offer original, inspirational content to help people feel better everyday. 

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Perfect Fucking Moment

I remember the moment this photo was taken, the click of the camera. I dropped my head down and finger-combed my hair forward, then flung myself up for the I-don’t-know-how-many-th time, then BAM. Not to sound like a narcissistic nightmare who makes you wanna choke on your own vomit, but it was a hard shot to pull off all things considered: chin had to stay down, shoulders up, find the lens and make eye contact in a millisecond, hand ever so slightly tugging my shirt, then hope my hair was still up and not whooshed back out of sight.

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