Steph Stoss

What if I told you it's all unfolding just as it should? What if I told you the best isn't what is yet to come? Maybe that's a lie, but then again, maybe it isn't.

Oh, how I've dreamt of this! I've imagined it play out and hit the repeat button a few never-enough times. The most wonderful memories have yet to be made, but I'll remember this forever because the mystery is everything I've ever dreamt it to be. The sudden burst of sunlight, even if just for a moment, is a glimpse of hope.

No job, no future plans - the world is mine, the world is yours. In this moment the simply wonderful, beautifully chaotic world is ours. If not tomorrow, maybe someday we will rule this world with our hearts racing toward forever. The greatest mystery is sure to prove to us it is all worthwhile.

And that's the greatest way to enter the world unknown. These last couple of months were designed for the best graduation gift; to enter the world free, open-minded and hopeful. Without that breath of fresh air by having it all planned before we even make it there, it wouldn't allow us to flutter to the fall.

Fate is on our side.

I was recently asked, "What has been your biggest accomplishment?"

Was it that my grandma taught me to sew? Was it that I managed to see every sunrise in 2011? Or was it that I've somehow only complained about the weather this year a couple handful of times?

In some twenty-odd years I could have invented heated steering wheels, started my own line of beauty products or studied abroad. But, in my twenty-two years, I haven't accomplished any of those.

In coming to college, I had busted free from a shell only to have been broken down. As my pieces crumbled, the fragile bits have clung on to what's real. Those pieces that stuck have helped make me the person I am.

I answered the question uneasily because maybe they'd think it was lame that my biggest accomplishment in my lifetime is being me.

No, but it wasn't lame, and watching their reactions to my answer confirmed that. I am everything I'm supposed to be. That's something no one else can take away from me, and that's the best accomplishment.

After all, life is like a perfect batch of peanut butter.

"If you ask a woman how she became successful, she will say it's because of all the support from family and friends and luck. You ask a man, he'll say because of all his hard work," she said.

We gathered around the table for a weekly office meeting at work and I caught a snippet of a book description one of my coworkers was reading by Sheryl Sandberg. I sat down next to her thinking it was silly. After all, it's no surprise that us women are more emotional and veer toward words that reflect such attitudes.

But, is it silly?

I can't remember the last time I said I was lucky about something. I'd like to think it's because I'm a hard worker, but maybe I'm just unlucky. I even believed that until a few nights ago. I was curled up with the newest edition of Real Simple. I've always loved the magazine because of its beautiful, simply elegant design by women for women. Ignoring the fact that it's a mom-targeted magazine, I've always felt like reading the magazine and soaking in all its tips and powerful features stories refocused my life and my motivation. An hour curled up with Real Simple has always been a happy hour of inspiration.

I was excited to dive in because of the beautiful pink floral cover of the May issue in honor of Mother's day. As I took my time flipping through the pages like I always do, (it's truly amazing how even near-perfect the print ads are) I finally landed on the Editor's Note - another favorite, and quite honestly, Kristin van Ogtrop is one of the very few editors I enjoy reading.  The intro started with her discontent with Sandberg's new book.

She wrote:

"I greatly admire what Sandberg is trying to accomplish with respect to women in the workplace, and I'm grateful for the conversation that she has started. . . I love, love, love my job, and I am also very lucky - which, per Lean In, is how women too often characterize their success. And apparently that is self-defeating. But, I'm sorry, it's true: I am lucky in my career.

Here's the thing: I don't want to be striving for bigger/better/higher/more every minute of every day. I don't always want to have a larger goal. That just sounds exhausting and, worst of all, completely joyless. I want to enjoy my days: past, present, and future."

Today's thought began with: if there's less of what it is, is it still what it was?

There's only one place in this world that has ever made me feel like I'm right where I belong. Was it the trees? The dock? What about the turtles, fish and the croaking frogs? Or was it the way that when I lie on my back, it felt as though the sky was hugging me?

I could never answer that, like so many unanswered questions I've tossed out into the pond. But this time as I walked to my spot, I felt defeated. The ground beneath my feet was level and stiff. In fact, it wasn't ground at all. There was newly placed sidewalk surrounding the pond covering my usual worn-down trail. As I walked closer, I felt lost in an unfamiliar scene. The water had sunk five feet, a huddle of trees had been cut down, and the sturdy dock was missing a log. With each new observation my heart ached. Not only had the pond been stripped of some of its most beautiful, perfectly untouched surroundings, but it almost felt as though a piece of me had been washed away too. The place that always made me feel perfectly in balance suddenly waned.

As I sat on the bridge and threw my legs over the edge, I hugged the railing and closed my eyes. The sun warmed me as the sound of the shallow water splashing with ripples from the wind calmed me. I felt at ease and even more alive. In that moment, everything was unchanged. In that moment, I realized what makes the pond so magical. Even though there were a few missing trees, the water was a little low and the bridge was a little shaky, the pond wasn't gone. The centerpiece of this safe haven was still what it has always been.

It reminded me that the argument of life is not whether a glass is half full or half empty. The argument has nothing to do with what fills the glass. It's not less of a glass if it's empty, nor is it a better glass if it's full. The contents are not what make it a glass. The glass itself is all that matters; that one thing that can never be taken away.

At the end of our week of volunteering with CASA, our exit interviewer asked "What did this experience teach you?"

I choked on a gasp for air. What had I learned? I looked around the table at the other girls lost in a haze of silence. Our week had exhausted us from an array of tasks: carrying lumber, painting wheelchair ramps, painting the walls and ceiling of a soon-to-be art gallery, preparing food for the homeless and homebound, and gardening. The silence seemed to only get louder as I questioned: Had I not learned anything?

With each passing second, my face brightened with various shades of red. The week brought happiness, heartache and friends as it tested our strength, determination and willpower. How could I possibly put this experience into words?

I smiled.

The seniors at assisted living, the mentally disabled, the homeless, the less-fortunate, and the other volunteers for CASA as well as my own team; surrounded me with so much love and passion that made the rainy Alabama days shine. They showed me that simplicity is a happiness of its own and best when shared. The warmth of their smiles, the simplicity of their happiness and being able to share that experience with amazing people made me realize that I needed them just as much as they needed me. My alternative break with CASA taught me to smile back.

Have you ever watch the sun truly rise?

I did this morning, and it was the most magical, real moment I've quite possibly ever witnessed. The orange glow of the sun creaked between the barren branches and peered through my living room window. I watched the orange brilliance creep beyond just the few branches it hid behind as it began to encompass the entire tree as if it were to set fire. With ease, the purple haze looming in the sky shielding the sun began to fade away. Streaky clouds stained the sky as it softly brightened to the simplest blue. As the sun peaked above the twiggy branches, the sun beat directly through my windows, bringing life to the objects forgotten at night.

I have never felt more alive.

Don't mourn for each fallen leaf. As the tiring battle to hold on is defeated, the leaf has finally broken free. The wind carries it through an undetermined path. There is no past, there is no future. In time, it flutters to its fall. This is not the end but rather a new beginning.

"The thing I still find absolutely stunning each day is watching the leaves change colors before my very eyes. The greatest thing about fall is that it reminds us that endings can be beautiful and a second chance is right around the corner."

When "let it go" seems petty and weak. When "let it go" takes more courage than holding on. When "let it go" is all that's left. When "let it go" is all you need.

My stance on happiness this year starts with "Leaf it be," because first you must lose all your leaves before you can blossom.

The dinner table is set for two. She scurries through the kitchen to rescue the burnt toast. She spins in circles as she remembers to grab the carrots from the fridge. Tonight''s dinner is leftover hamburgers grilled the previous night. She wipes a stream of sweat from her forehead as she stands in front of the table with a hand on her hip - but only for a second. She spins again to grab the burgers from the microwave. She yells to her daughter that dinner is ready, as she fights back tears from the hot plate stinging the tip of her fingers.

The radio is playing softly in the background to distract from the silence. She seeps into her chair to relax her legs for the first time since she got home from her 10-hour workday at the hospital lab. She glances at the clock, then to her daughter. Her daughter's young face is calm as she shuffles her crumbling hamburger pieces with a fork.

There is nothing particular about this evening. Sometimes it was spaghetti, others it was chicken, macaroni and cheese, or enchiladas. But, it was always, always, a single mom working to give her daughter the world.

As a college student, I can admit that something as basic as dinner can be a struggle. There's always something distracting our attention; classes, meetings, homework, a part-time job and, less importantly, Facebook and Twitter. Not only do I not know how to make more than just a handful of dishes, but nor do I have the patience.

The nights that I'm usually home to make dinner, I sit alone at the table. Sometimes I'm relieved that I don't 'waste' an hour prepping a meal for just myself. Then I think about the single moms who have even more on their plates.

I think about my very own mom and admire her strength.

On more occasions than I can recall, there were nights that I would turn my nose up at her cooking or throw a fit until she made a dinner that I approved. I wasn't always grateful for the things she did for me, but I am thankful for a mom that always found the strength to be there to love her daughter.

I find myself here again. From inside the coffee shop, I search for an escape from reality - a break of beauty. The dullness creeping from the gray sweats that cover my never-halting, jittery legs is suffocating. As the sun sets, there are twinkling lights hanging from the twig-like trees lining Mass. Street, sparkling like a strand of hope ready to ignite. I pour another cup of coffee; I pour all that's left onto paper.

"The difference between the impossible and the possible lies in a person's determination." - Tommy Lasorda

In my moment of clarity, thousands of words strung together in my mind, creating an endless series of thoughts sorting reality, what-ifs, thank god's, and wishes. My cluttered mind felt easily at peace.

At the dock I frantically scribbled that it had been 70 days since my last, what I defined as, clarity. The clarity that you find in your mother's arms in midst of an unconsciously long, overdue reunion that makes you feel as though you're right where you belong, only better. It's better because it's just me, the open sky, the open land, and a flew splashes of from the pond - nature.

The words flowed faster from my pen to paper before I was even aware of my thoughts:

"Happiness, knowledge, not in another place, but this place, not for another hour, but this hour..." — Walt Whitman

1. Waking up at sunrise.

2. The smoothness of your teeth after brushing them.

3. Having PB&J and milk for dinner.

4. Sheets fresh out of the dryer.

5. Running errands when your fuel light is on and still making it home safely.

6. Hearing your favorite song by a little-known artist at the bar.

7. Seeing your phone light up with a call from a childhood friend.

8. "Good morning, beautiful" texts.

9. Identifying objects in the clouds.

10. The smell of fall.

11. Anytime, anywhere "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" plays through the speakers.

12. Hugs from people you love.

13. Grandma's cookies.

14. When your nail polish glistens in the sun.

15. Spontaneous adventures.

17. Talking in a fake accent.

18. The other side of the pillow.

19. Surprises.

20. Blanket coocoons.

You're a strong person. You are strong for the ones you love, you are strong against the people who talk in a small town, you are strong. You appear to have it all under control. I know you don't, but the fact that you are able to be strong enough to seem stronger than you feel is admirable. That takes courage.

The stress of money, school, work, family, friends, significant others, and life is a constant struggling part of living. Life. The stress of life itself; as it is, as it was.

People die. Grandparents die, parents die, family friends die. People live. Spouses die, best friends die, children die, the too young die.

No, that's my best friend's mom, my mom's best friend. That's the kid who was like a big brother to me and worked  for my dad in the summers. That's the kid who sat by me on the bus in the 5th grade. That's my cousin. That's my best friend who I would sneak in through my basement late at night to play Guitar Hero. That's my ex-boyfriend who got mad at me when I could not speak on the phone after my wisdom teeth surgery.  No, they aren't just people. They are parts of my life I could never imagine living without, but somehow I have.

How?

 Why?

Why haven't I deleted his contact from my phone? Why does seeing his name make me angry? Why does it make me smile? Why won't I let go?

How did you? How could I?

Life happens. The harder life gets, the harder it is to live.

We all know about it. We all have been affected by it. We have all had to be strong for someone else. We all have had no idea what to do next.

You're a good friend, you're a good lover, you're a good fighter, you're a good crier. You're a perfect remembrance that life is still beautiful.

Life isn't about the breaths you take, it's about the moments that make you cherish each breath. 

Ever notice how things have a tendency of hurting worse on the way out than they did on the way in? You know, the everyday happenings or the life-changing events that make you act like a child with consequences that sting like a bad fall on winter ice. It's the things that wipe you out only to watch you get up again. 

Example 1: Indulging in the extra piece of cake means going hard in the gym. Going hard in the gym means three weeks of fitness dedicated to insure that the piece of cake doesn't hang around like a stain on Mama's blouse that she doesn't know you borrowed. What's another 460 calorie slice of cake? Four miles in the gym, that's what.

Example 2: Trusting and loving someone only to unwillingly close the chapter a few pages short. The fresh beginning of any new relationship - a new coworker, a new friend or a new significant other. Talking and laughing and discovering new things about that other person are natural and come with ease. Then you get all caught up. One moment you're sitting in a coffee shop laughing and sharing wicked tales of your yesteryears, and the next you're sitting alone in your car certain that this person is someone who can no longer be a part of your life but uncertain of how it came to this.

Example 3: Ever had the best joke to tell but literally couldn't get the words out of your mouth because you were laughing too hard? It's there. It's in your head. Repeating and repeating and repeating itself.  Snot exudes from your nose, drool covers the floor you've somehow ended up in fetal position on. After a stomachache ensues, the joke suddenly loses a bit of flare. The stubborn words then flow from your mouth with more exhaustion than the joy you had been filled with not even 45 seconds earlier.

It's weird. We forget just how hard it is to let go of that piece of cake, that person, that punchline. At the time we're soaking it in, relishing in all it's goodness, while the ending moment is creeping closer. At the gym on mile two of three and wanting to give up, or crying from an empty place in your heart, or feeling nauseous from laughing so hard, we wonder why we ever did that to ourselves to begin with. It's nothing new. We've all had bad mexican food before. Yet, time after time again we do it. Maybe not so much because it seems worth it, but because that's living. We embrace the good without worrying about the bad, because if we constantly worry about the bad that follows, we put a shock collar on ourselves from really getting out there and living the sometimes-crazy-but-always-worth-it life.

Ten months ago I made one of the most ridiculous, spontaneous decisions I have ever made without any second thought. I can honestly count on one finger how many times that has happened. I had just moved into a new apartment while juggling three jobs (and when I say "juggling," I mean that quite literally). I was exhausted and bored with my anything but normal norm. I needed to breathe. I needed to desert everything, so I booked a mini vacation straight to the desert; a mini vacation that I happened to extend a few extra days.

The red dirt, the mountains, the not-so-shady palm trees, the 5:30am sunrises, the cloudless sky, the rock lawns were a breath of fresh air. Everything about the desert was completely different than my hipster college town, yet something about it had a homey feeling of the farm. I was in love at first heat wave.

I found paradise at a desert. I remember waiting at the airport to return to my anti-norm life, and it was the first time in a long time that I felt like I was living without thinking and it was the greatest feeling in the world. I didn't want to leave; not it, not the happiness, not the love. That is when I knew that craziness has a reward, and I couldn't wait to do it again.

Regis is a man of stories. The way these stories flowed with ease from his memory bank ignited your imagination couldn't ignore the picture perfect New York scene. You wished to be there, but yet it was like Regis allowed the world to live vicariously through his experiences the next morning on his morning show, Live!.

I was 5 years old when I started realizing that I had been watching Live with Regis and Kathie Lee since I was a baby everyday before daycare instead of cartoons. The lady who ran the daycare I practically grew up at was married to a man who I could have sworn was Regis' brother. I remember calling him Regis a time or two, even Grandpa.

Regis wasn't just a man of his own stories. He believes everybody has a story to tell, and he knows just how to dig it out of them. He's a man of curiosity who had an itching for more than what's just on the surface. Regis, with his soothing, genuine interested tone, is known for making even the most awkward of people compelling story tellers (hello, Kristen Stewart?!). Regis is a talented man.

In an industry of "it's not what you know, it's who you know," Regis really did know just about everybody. As he is known to do, he raised the bar because he also was an incredibly smart man who believed the right time to give up was to never give up.

After reading his memoir - How I Got This Way - I was amazed at his life journey. He didn't have his life figured out after college. It was refreshing the way he embraced it, too. After reading and living vicariously through his journey of finding his place in the world, it seems like maybe it's almost better if we don't have a dream to chase. He tried, he fought, he failed, he was rejected, he succeeded, he got things done, made things happen, and he made a name for himself - the greatest dream of all. He didn't have it all figured out, but he worked hard and worried for nothing.

VIDEOS:
Watching TODAY Kathie Lee and Hoda video: Reunited! Kathie Lee and Regis co-anchor again -  

Regis has spent more time on television than anyone else in the world. Final Live!

On Regis' final day at the show, he was awarded for being New York's biggest fan. With all the reality TV at our finger tips, it's not hard to zone in on the Kardashian's and think you're living their extravagant lifestyle in Cali. Regis had that charm about him and his New York night life that you fantasized about. He made you want to see the real New York, the New York that can't be caught on film in a reality star TV show.

He built his an empire entirely based on his talent for interviewing people and his need for a story that sells itself. Like the original journalist, Regis found got stories and he let them speak for themselves. His interviews were pure, entertaining and interesting. Regis is one of a kind, but it's a shame. The world could really benefit from a few more Regis'.

It takes time to be alone, completely cut off from everyone, to finally feel like you're loved and to know you're really loved. When you're alone, you learn to love yourself because you're all you have. When you love yourself, you'll stop worrying about the people who don't love you because you have nothing to prove to them.

A summer of leaving my friends, my family and my jobs seemed like exactly what I needed to do in order to make my dreams come true. Instead, the summer of leaving my friends, family and income helped me succeed in the most important part of life. I learned how to love myself. I learned that being alone - completely alone - is better than surrounding myself with people I constantly compare myself to. I learned to be me, love me, see me for who I am.

Sure, my portfolio is thicker than any textbook I've read in college. Yeah, I have a resume that's just as impressive as someone who has been in the industry for five years. But, what I have - what nobody can take away from me - is me.

The beautiful thing about loving yourself and really living with no regards to another person is being surprised by the love of the people who really do care. The little things like "I miss you, skank" texts and YouTube videos from middle school and pictures from your 21st birthday share a brief reliving of that memory, which is the best gift anyone could ever give.

They always say "you find out who your true friends really are when..." but I'm not one for cliches. I'm also a sucker for word games and fill-in-the-blanks.

Sugar is a beautiful thing. My fantasy 3,000+ calorie diet: Sour gummy worms, Fruit Roll-ups, Sweet Tarts, Starbursts, M&Ms, Reese's, mint chocolate chunk ice cream, milkshakes and sundaes.

As a kid, any major event in our lives always incorporated some dangerous foods. Major events such as a movie, birthday party, or the county fair and dangerous foods such as those listed above that gave us enough energy to run laps around the world are what we lived for. Unless your childhood resembled mine, which was more like a candy bar for breakfast because real food is lame.

Sugar is my alcohol, and I partied way too hard before I got to college. Now when I have a cup of mint chocolate chunk ice cream  I can guarantee that I will be passed out within the hour; maybe for 30 minutes, maybe for 5 hours. I laugh now, remembering all the energy I had pre-college. I've somehow become a sugar light-weight, but I'm ready to take charge of my life again. (And you should too!)

Luckily, considering that I am technically an adult, alcohol can be my alcohol. No, not in the same way as the freshman girls who go to the Hawk on dollar night and wake up in a tangle of their puke-absorbed hair. I'm much too beyond on my years for that, literally.

This week at my internship the owner of the magazine's wife/front desk lady, took us out for lunch and told us about the latest fad her doctor is recommending for her to try. And I simply recommend it because I want to start a revolution. It's the Myers Cocktail. When we're all feeling a little worthless, struggling with hormonal imbalance, wanting to boost our immune systems, preparing for a marathon or wanting to spike our metabolism, we finally have an answer. No party dress, fancy hair or invites necessary, but a nice touch. So sit back, relax and take charge.