I’ve been getting down and dirty with mindfulness lately. We’re talking the hippie dippy type shit of living in the present, meditation, minimalism, and all that good stuff. I started thinking about it all when I realized Prozac wasn’t helping anymore. And then the move happened and I went through a crazy roller coaster of grief and excitement and omg what have we done and it’s going to be ok. Throughout the roller coaster, I found a recurring thread of “Amy, this is your chance to shake it all off.” Or something more like, “dude, this is totally your Madonna reinvention moment.” I kept coming back to that thought, so I listened to it. And I figured mindfulness practice was the best way to get there. To practice really, really, really hard to stay in the present and not frame all of it around regrets from the past and fears of the future.

I’m reading Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now. He talks about unidentifying from your mind–those thoughts that run rampant and unchecked most of the time. That is not you. You are you. And when you unidentify from your mind and stop to listen to it–that’s when you find enlightenment. I KNOW. It’s all very vague, new-agey stuff, but it’s GOOD STUFF. Especially for someone with anxiety. It’s also hard to understand at times and even more difficult to practice consistently. I’m so used to my mind running that I don’t even notice it anymore until I’m in a horrible mood and I’m trying to figure out why.



It’s been kind of perfect to be unemployed for a minute right after moving to Seattle. I mean, I’m not stoked about not having a job, and I’m working hard to find one. But these quiet, slow mornings are the perfect chance to practice mindfulness. To sit in our new window bay with the windows open, smelling the rainy air, sipping dark coffee, and just being. Sitting. Experiencing the physical sensations of sitting and the warmth of the coffee in my left hand. My hair blowing in the breeze. I feel stupid writing this because it sounds like bullshit, but it’s making a big difference.

In the mundane of my Salt Lake City life, I forgot who I was and what I enjoyed. It was my own fault. I never stopped to think about it. I was NEVER present. I was rolling along with the tide of everyday living, forgetting to wake up and remember Amy throughout it all. I’m sure that will happen here again once I get a job and settle down with a routine, but I’m working on preventing it through mindfulness.

This post from Sarah of Yes and Yes is exactly what I’m talking about but more on the change side of things. Finding little ways to STAY AWAKE in life. Because it’s harder than it should be really. I’ve also mentioned that I’m doing Gala Darling’s Dare/Dream/Do course, which has been phenomenal for these same reasons.




ANYWAY. All I’m trying to say is I’m trying to reinvent my perspective and my life. I have a lot of time on my hands, which makes this really convenient, and that will (hopefully) change soon. But it’s refreshing, and I dig it, dammit. I’m just trying to find my happiness so I can start fresh in this new city. Sue me.

Any fellow mindfulness junkies out there? Book suggestions? Podcasts? Apps? Let’s hear it.


Holy shit we made it.

We are officially Seattleites. Although, we’re probably still too new to say that. But we live here. We have an address and Mitch started his job and things are rolling. It feels good. Really, really, really good.

The drive here was terrible–as expected–but totally doable. It was mostly just terrible because Royal and Pagoda were thoroughly petrified the ENTIRE ride. Royal took up a nook under one of the Westy’s tables and dug his nose as far into the corner as he possibly could. Pagoda sat there like a little stripey loaf looking straight ahead and panting for 12 hours. I had a knot in my stomach the whole way there and only really breathed again once they were safely quarantined in our new place’s bathroom. I’m happy to say they are fully recovered now and taking full advantage of the new, sunny window bay that looks down on a bustling alley.

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Shout out to Mitchell’s parents for driving the enormous moving truck that also towed our little Honda Fit behind it. That was a huge task, and they did it without thinking twice. His mom also cleaned the entire place for us, which saved me from an imminent meltdown after two weeks of chaos. They are the salt of the Earth. I tell you what.

Since his parents were here for two days, we did the whole tourist thang, making sure they saw all the musts. We’d been here before, but we had to make the move official by riding the Ducks and visiting Pike Place. We can walk everywhere from our new place, and there’s a stellar banh mi place right around the block, which made the entire move worth it. I love banh mi. SO MUCH.












If you’re thinking about moving to a new city, and you’re feeling unsure, my completely premature advice is DO IT. Take this with a grain of salt considering I’ve only been here three days, and the novelty is still very, very high. It still feels like I’m on vacation, but the more I unpack, the more real it feels. And it’s a good kind of real. Everything is terrifying, but in the best way. It’s scary, but it’s so shiny and new and exciting. We had to take a trip to the hardware store, but because it’s a new city, it felt like an adventure. A test to see if I could remember the street names. Every day errands are a treat because you’re never sure what you’ll pass on the way.

There are disappointments. Like having to rent a parking spot for exorbitant sums. Or the soul-sucking realization that you literally have not a single friend in the city. But these are just new-city facts that, in a weird way, are fun to make yourself accept. All of these new little parts of this new life that seem weird, but they’re not so weird–tons of other people are doing it every day, and now you’re doing it. It’s your choice–your interpretation of your life and your own new choices and routines. It’s scary, but it’s invigorating. New facts, disappointments, perks, and routines. IT’S BEAUTIFUL, GUYS.









My sister-in-law whom I love told me she felt like she was on a 6-year vacation when she moved to a new city, and I hope that’s how this continues to feel. As a born and bred Utahan, it feels downright lovely to branch out and see landscapes that are green and city skylines with real skyscrapers. Not to dis Utah–it’s great for a lot of reasons. But for me–someone with raging social anxiety and a bushel of other fun issues–it’s nice to start over, stretch out my brain a little bit, take a giant deep breath, and carve out something new.

If you’re in Seattle, let’s hang out. I’m bored, and I don’t know a soul. Have you moved to a new city recently? Did you love it? Hate it?

eradicating goodbyes

Saying goodbye is stupid. Which is why I’m doing my best to not issue any. They’re more of “see you laters” than goodbyes. I keep trying to tell myself that between Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, texting, and FaceTime, goodbyes are obsolete.

It still sucks, though, to do everything for the last time. I took my last walk to work this morning–something I’ve loved immensely since starting this job a year ago. I got my last coffee from the sugarbun barista that thinks my name is Michelle. I never had the heart to tell him I’m Amy and not Michelle. He was just so smiley when he greeted me every morning. That’s gone on for about 8 months, and I’ll miss “Michelle” scribbled on my paper cup.

I have the greatest friends in the cosmos that threw a little going away party for me last Saturday. Laura is the real life Martha Stewart (sans inside trading convictions) and put together a beautiful dinner with candles and a “We Love You Amy” banner. I teared up about 80 times throughout the night, but I tried not to let anyone know that because IT’S NOT GOODBYE, DAMNIT! They took me to karaoke, which is my favorite past-time probably ever. We go to this certain dive bar that is full of old dudes that always sing Elton John, Cat Stevens, Billy Joel, and basically my entire musical repertoire of favorites. It’s always a good time, and I always wake up with a hoarse voice.




We went to our last Oktoberfest, too. At least the Salt Lake City version. We shared pumpkin beers with whipped cream with our good friends, eating German food and discussing Seattle plans. I’ll miss being able to do this with friends–simple afternoons with simple conversations. And I’ll miss the Utah mountains and always kick myself for not taking advantage of them more. You know–I’m a born and raised Utahan, and I’ve never going skiing or snowboarding? Blasphemous. They should chase me out with pitchforks and torches.


It’s been a WEIRD week. Tomorrow I say goodbye to coworkers that I dearly love and look up to. And Saturday, I’ll say goodbye to my little nephews. It feels like I’m dying in a way. And I REALLY hate the end of the night after these parties where I have to fight back tears while doling out hugs. It’s too final, and I don’t like anything final. I know I’ll be back, but it still hurts to see someone walk away and not know how many months will go by without seeing them again. It’s all just a good slap in the face to say AMY! You idiot. You took all these people for granted. Don’t do it again. Because people are important. They are very, very important.

Any out-of-staters out there have tips on keeping up with your friends and family? Do you use your blog? Social media? Letters? I need ideas.

Much love.