Sometimes I hate being an optimist, and other times it’s the best thing about me.

I love who I’m becoming. I love the life I’m stewarding. I love this world and the people in it, even if some days that’s hard to do. But there’s a flip side to that—it doesn’t mean eternal sunshine. Sometimes, the light at the end of the tunnel is most definitely an oncoming train, and my optimism blinds me to that reality. I can’t bring myself to admit that I’m hurting, that I’m scared, that I’m lost in the darkness. I stand right on the tracks, squinting into the headlight, and tell myself it’s going to be fine. I tell myself I can take the weight, that I can brace for impact, that whatever pain I feel won’t be that painful, somehow, in the end.

And so I bruise. My skin has purpled over the years, more so in this phase of life than ever. Every time I miss someone. Every time I’m disappointed, or a disappointment; every time I’m let down, or let someone down. Every time I work so hard to stand tall and instead get sent to the floor. Another scratch, another hit. And I peel myself off the ground and think, am I okay? Is this hurt all that’s left for me?

But here’s the thing—it never hurts too bad to fall. I’ve padded myself with hope, and love, and silver linings. I’ve built armor out of learning from mistakes and trusting my gut to guide me. The people in my life help me pick gravel out of my knees, and then they stand with me the next time I find myself on the tracks. I’m accompanied and I’m strong and I can withstand a whole lot as I grow. There is a light at the end of every tunnel and not every train gets to knock me flat.

It’s going to be fine. So are you. And here are five songs for deep breaths, inner strength, sunshiney days, and standing tall in the midst of it all.

“High Hopes” // Kodaline

I love the message that high hopes aren’t easy to keep up, but they’re worth it. Kodaline is one of my favorite artists for reflection; their sound is instant calm for me.

“Roll Up Your Sleeves” // Meg Mac

Part of optimism, for me, is believing that I can do the work. I can put in the time and make things happen for myself. And I can do it with a little bit of bop, a little bit of joy, along the way.

“Cologne”// Haux

Something about this cool, ambient backtrack does wonders for calming me down—like the best, most cleansing deep breath after coming up from under water. No matter how dark things seem, it always allows me a moment.

“You Are Enough” // Sleeping at Last

Sleeping at Last’s Atlas: Year Two project is a master class in matching music to life. Moving through the five senses, a range of emotions, and all nine Enneagram numbers, this track in particular cuts right to my heart.

“The Other Side” // Parachute

Sometimes, you just need to know someone will hold your hand. Sometimes, that’s all it takes to really believe things will be okay. This song makes me believe it.

Meet the Author

Melissa Warten

Melissa graduated Boston College in 2016 with a double major in English and philosophy. She loves Ultimate Frisbee, Hamilton, Harry Potter, and ice cream, and thinks most problems can be solved with a nap, an iced coffee and the right Spotify playlist. She hopes to work in publishing.

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Featured

The End of An Era: Saying Goodbye to Windrose

Hi friends,

Announcement (sounds so formal, doesn’t it?):

It's the end of an era.

I’ve decided that, after nearly 8 years of telling stories of navigating life, this season of Windrose is drawing to a close.

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Even Here: Words for When You're Wandering

When I was 22 years old, I visited the desert for the first time.

A metaphorical desert, if we’re getting technical.

I was fresh out of college, starry-eyed and eager to begin my post-grad life. I had big ‘ole me-centered dreams: a shiny, brag-worthy PR job in the music industry! An apartment with an exposed brick wall that (somehow) would fit an upright piano! A committed relationship with a kind, goofy man!

I got exactly none of those things.

To summarize an entire year’s worth of emotion: I was devastated.

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What is Home?

Late last night, I flew back into town after a week away, the city lights covering the Valley like a blanket of incandescent flowers. I’ve flown into Phoenix at least a dozen times at this point. Usually, I can identify a handful of landmarks, like my antenna-scarred South Mountain or the twinkling lights of the bridges spanning Tempe Town Lake.

Flying into Nashville, however, was always different.

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I Don't Live Here Anymore

I recently returned to Nashville for the first time since moving to Phoenix five months ago.

Before my reunion, I often said that the word “home” could apply to both Nashville and Phoenix. Nashville is my home. Phoenix is my home. I could find that home-sweet-home feeling in both cities.

During my 8 days back, I frequented my old haunts. The brickwalled coffee shop still serves the meanest mocha in town. The hillside winery still proves to be a worthwhile spot to sip away a sunny Sunday afternoon. The hip burger joint still offers a lovely evening to dine with friends, new and old. The lime-green Mexican restaurant on the corner of Whitebridge still feels like a queso-soaked refuge.

There were many “stills,” but there were changes, too.

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Why did you move?

A cardstock print sits propped against the lamp on my desk: a taupe watercolor swipe outlining a peakside Saguaro, the sun a tiny ring above. Beneath this minimalist illustration are these words in typeface: “I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”

I happened upon this notecard-sized print on the way out of a shop last weekend, after already having completed another purchase. It was the last print of its kind in the pile. I had to have it. I returned to the cashier: “This one, too.”

You see, this verse has been a thread weaving through my story, simple words spoken by a prophet long dead, a passage of comfort I’ve returned to again and again since my pilgrimage to the desert four years ago, when I inked a cactus on my wrist.

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The Good Old Days

Last week was National Margarita Day.

I did not, however, celebrate the holiday. Truthfully, I’ve yet to find THE Mexican place here in Phoenix. You know the one: gaudy decorations, cheap food, even cheaper margaritas.

But there’s a Mexican restaurant at the corner of Charlotte and Whitebridge in Nashville, TN.

You may have heard of it.

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Witching Hour (or, Fighting Off Demons at 3 am with a Box Cutter)

Between the hours of 3 - 4 am, I find myself awakened by nothing in particular. The room is silent. There is no sound outside. No loud car horns. No dogs barking.

I’m upset.

I wish it was something other than just me. Then I could stop it. Nothing is to blame. It feels like moments have passed since I closed my eyes. The moments of a long dreamless sleep last about 4 hours.

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10 Life Lessons This Cross-Country Move is Attempting to Teach Me

There are a few lessons life has attempted to teach me since my move — all things that I haven’t yet spiced up into a full essay, but deserve to be memorialized by my metaphorical pen nonetheless.

So I present a collection of lessons I’ve learned — and am still learning — in the last 3 months.

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What Will Your Life Look Like?

Tomorrow marks 3 months.

Three months here, sharing a zip code with Saguaros.

“So how is Phoenix?” a friend asked me over the phone as I sat on my balcony beneath glowing string lights, a pour of raspberry wine in my hand. The sun was setting, painting the eastern mountains with rosy swipes of redemption.

How has Phoenix been these last three months?

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What is it Trying to Tell You, if Only You’d Listen?

I went on a date recently. Two glasses of Riesling, pleasant conversation, and a perfectly amicable guy — it was an altogether fine evening.

However, I wasn’t interested in a second date.

Not because of any run-for-the-hills red flags. Not because I didn’t think he was cute. Not because we didn’t get along. I simply — wasn’t interested.

There’s no better way to explain it. No fear-based avoidance of the potential for a healthy relationship. No disdain for commitment that needs a heavy round of therapy to work through. Nothing deeper than the inner sense that a second date just wasn’t necessary.

But, I said yes to getting dinner again with him.

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The Other Side of Yes

I’m a No Girl.

In many ways, this is a good thing. I’m able to confidently decline invitations that disinterest me.

“Want to go whitewater rafting?” No thank you, I’m comfy right here on the bank.

“Want to do a shot?” No thank you, I’ll take my liquor with lime juice and Triple Sec, plz.

“Want to try this carrot cake?” No thank you, Harry, I can’t eat gluten.

“Want to go to Broadway?” No thank you, I’d prefer to go to bed.

In many ways, however, being a No Girl originates less from personal boundaries and more from fear. Fear and I happen to be pretty tight; we talk on the daily. Fear has been the primary consultant for many of my life decisions, in fact.

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A Song for Growth

A year ago, a friend of mine got a job at a well known tech company. He had been slogging through the interviews, and he finally got an offer. Obviously he deserved it. He was a hard worker, and his attitude for success and life was admirable to say the least. I knew he was beyond qualified.

But at the time, I was on a career path I couldn’t see myself being happy in. I had made the mistake of staying in the industry mainly for the money. Every month in the industry was a reminder of how much I did not want to stay. It created a nasty cycle of overthinking and career angst. Feelings of inadequacy and existentialism rooted themselves deep inside me. I couldn’t focus on anything and was utterly disconnected from the work I was doing.

I admit I wasn’t happy for him.

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TUESDAY TUNES: Songs for the Optimist

“High Hopes” // Kodaline

“Roll Up Your Sleeves” // Meg Mac

“Cologne”// Haux

“You Are Enough” // Sleeping at Last

“The Other Side” // Parachute

Melissa graduated Boston College in 2016 with a double major in English and philosophy. She loves Ultimate Frisbee, Hamilton, Harry Potter, and ice cream, and thinks most problems can be solved with a nap, an iced coffee and the right Spotify playlist. She hopes to work in publishing.

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