What's Keeping You From Your Dream Job?

It’s been four years, but it feels like so much less. Tyler and I had gone out on our second date. I already knew he was different from the other boys, but I didn’t want him to think I was crazy, so I was trying to be casual – something I have never quite been able to master.

It had rained earlier in the night, so the road was glistening that perfect way it does when it’s just the right amount of damp for the reflections of the streetlights to have a twinkle effect. The twinkle effect always makes me think a little deeper.

He was driving me home, and as we turned into the driveway I asked him my favorite question to ask people. “What’s your dream job?”

“My dream job?” he repeated, as though it was a foreign concept.

“Yeah, your dream job. Like if you could do anything in the whole world for the rest of your life, what would you do?”

He didn’t answer.

I was just about to try and phrase the question a third way when he said, “Well…. I don’t know. I guess I’ve never thought about it.”

This blew my mind. 

I am tempted to misuse the word ‘literally’ here in order to emphasize just how mind-blown I was in this moment. 

This guy – this guy I was falling in love with had NEVER thought about what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. 

“So you’re going to just work? Like at any old job?” I was perplexed.

“Well, no, I want to have a job I enjoy.”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know.”

Literally (I know, I know) mind-blown.

Now, here I am four years later, and this answer – the one where people shrug their shoulders and say they have no idea how they want to spend all the working hours of their one and only life – has almost become the standard when I ask this question. 

I’ve grown accustomed to hearing people say they don’t know what they want to do, but I have never really been able to accept it. There’s a tiny twinge inside of me that wants to help every one of those people figure out their callings. Their gifts and talents and dreams and desires and ideas and creativity. I want them to love what they do, because with everything in me, I believe it matters. It matters so much.

Since I quit my job and started running my media company full-time, this has become a common conversation I have with people. I run into old acquaintances or get emails or messages from friends saying “I’m so jealous you’re running your own business. I wish I could leave my job and go do something else.”

The thing is – they can. You can.

Now, let me pump the breaks and be loud and clear when I say I do NOT think everyone should start their own business. But I also don’t think you have to go out and start a company to love what you do. I know plenty of people who work for someone else and still totally love their career. I also know people who run their own business and hate it. 

This isn’t about who’s in charge; it’s about you knowing what you want to do and going out there and doing it. 

I asked people on my Instagram account if they were passionate about their career. I dug deeper with some of the ones who were not and found out why they stayed at a job they didn’t love. Here were their answers:

Financial stability

Fear of what others will think

Part of the process (working their way up the ladder)

Complacency

Fear of failure

Worry that they still wouldn’t be happy at their next job

And the number one reason – they didn’t know what they would do if they left.

They didn’t have a dream job.

This is such a common occurrence. Somewhere along the way to adulthood, we wind up on these paths that lead us to different careers and we just kind of keep walking, never stopping to think if this is even what we want – what gives us life and excitement and purpose. 

This is not ok. 

We have to stop and think about what we want. 

What do you care about deeply? In what areas are you uniquely gifted? What ideas keep you awake at night? What market can you serve? What would it take to make you excited to get up and go to work every day? 

We have to ask these questions. If you’re fortunate enough to have found a career that you love and revel in and that is life-giving, I’m genuinely happy for you. Hold on to it, and remind yourself regularly why you love it.

But if you are mindlessly pursuing a mundane career you are not enthusiastic about just because this is where life brought you, it might be time to press pause and think about why you are there and what your goals are moving forward.

It feels good to do work that matters. You should not dread going into the office every day. Your dream job is going to look different from mine, but I hope you know what it is, and I hope you are whole-heartedly chasing after it.

At the end of the day, your job is not who you are – it’s just what you do. So don’t beat yourself up too much if you feel like you’re in a sucky position right now. It doesn’t define you. You are enough exactly as you are. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to love the work that you do. 

So figure out what you want to do, and go do it. Because the world needs more people doing what they love.

Are you pursuing your dream job? If not, do you know what it is? Tell me in the comments!

Only So Many Snow Days

Being your own boss is weird. As many of you know, I spend the bulk of my days running my own media company. That looks like meeting with clients, shooting and editing videos for businesses, creating and scheduling social media posts for companies, attempting to be an actual adult, etc. 

I just hired my first intern. I didn’t necessarily know if I was ready to hire an intern, but she approached me at the end of last semester and I agreed to meet with her and discuss the possibility. We really hit if off, and I do actually have my hands quite full with the amount of business I currently have coming down the pipe, so she started after Christmas break. 

It doesn’t snow often in Mississippi – except for this winter, when apparently it became a monthly occurrence. I woke up Tuesday morning to freezing temperatures and light, marvelous snowflakes drifting down from the heavens. 

I did a quick, spastic happy dance and then proceeded with business as usual. I made a ginormous pot of coffee and ate some breakfast as I opened my inbox and calendar and started to outline my to-do list for the day. 

I had just finished writing the final task and was about to start working on a video when I received a text from the intern. 

“Do we have work today? My classes were all canceled because of the snow.”

Why is she asking me? I thought. I don’t know what to tell her.

Then it hit me. 

I’m the boss.

I’m supposed to answer this question. 

I have to make this decision.

I immediately called my husband. 

No answer. 

Crap. 

Ok, it was another word.

Finally, after staring out the window at the winter wonderland that had settled into my backyard, I responded. 

“Yes, let’s plan on meeting as usual.”

I hated myself. But I wasn’t going to be able to meet with her the rest of the week due to out of town shoots, and we had some projects we really needed to get moving along and isn’t this what adults are supposed to do? Isn’t this how you run a business? 

Shortly after that, my husband called to tell me his work was shutting down for the day due to the fact that Mississippi doesn’t know how to function when it snows.  So he was on his way home. 

“I still have to work,” I told him.

“No, you don’t. You’re the boss.” he reminded me. 

I hung up and texted the intern. “Change of plans. Enjoy your snow day!” 

We jumped on a quick phone call and went over a few project details and decided to each work from home and touch base next week. 

When Tyler got home from work, he leaped onto the couch and let out a gigantic sigh. “Aren’t snow days the best?” he said, with his eyes closed and his head laid back on the throw pillow. 

“Yeah, they are,” I acknowledged, “but I’ve still got some stuff I need to get done.”

“Nooooooooooooo,” he whined. “It’s a snow day. You’re not supposed to work on snow days.”

He was right. I was being ridiculous. It literally NEVER snows in Mississippi, except last month but seriously this has to be the last time for a while, right? 

I shut my laptop.

“Ok, let’s go outside and play.”

And we did. 

We set my camera up on a tripod and took fun pictures because who knows when our yard will ever look like this again?

Some of them didn't turn out so well...

And we built a fire and drank coffee by it, as snowflakes fell gracefully into our mugs and made little bursts of steam emerge. 

We chased our dog and threw snowballs at each other, and I dared Tyler to walk on our little frozen creek, and we had ourselves a quintessential snow day.

But the whole time, I kept thinking about work. And deadlines. And obligations. And to-do lists. And then I kept thinking

What is wrong with me?

Why can’t I just enjoy the snow?

Why do I feel the need to get work done today?

We are so accustomed to productivity and plowing through and getting things done that if we’re not careful, we’ll miss the snow days. We’ll miss the beauty and wonder of these clean and flawless drops of winter charm falling from the sky. We won’t stop to notice the way the bonfire so sharply contrasts the elegant, white backdrop or how it kind of tickles when a snowflake lands just the right way on your nose.

We only get so many snow days. Only so many days that should have been normal but suddenly took an unexpected and magical turn. 

It’s a decision not to miss them. It's a decision to give up your to-do list. To surrender feeling productive and accomplished and doing all the things.

The snow will melt, but the work will be there tomorrow. So for today, let’s make the decision to play and to slow down and to build fires and to dream and to laugh and to just enjoy the exceptional. 

Let’s decide to enjoy the snow days.

7 Ways to Fight Post-Holiday Blues

It's mid-January. Christmas decorations are put away, vacation days have all been spent the Hallmark channel is back to showing whatever they show when it’s not December, and it’s still miserably cold outside. 

The blues are setting in.

It’s totally normal to feel kind of blah these first few weeks after the holidays. I mean, it’s kind of like slamming into a brick wall after cruising at 100 miles an hour for the last month or two. It’s all fa-la-la-la-la until January 2nd. Then there’s nothing.

No more holiday parties or shopping lists or “did you ask your mom what time we’re supposed to be there for lunch?” The gifts have all been wrapped and unwrapped, the casseroles baked and eaten. It’s just back to work, and even that kind of feels like coming out of a cloud.

Every project, email or meeting you said you’d “get to after the holidays” seems lightyears away. It’s overwhelming to figure out where to pick back up again. 

Suddenly life - the same normal life you were perfectly content with before Thanksgiving - somehow feels unexciting and dreadfully stressful at the same time. So I wanted to share my seven favorite ways to get back to feeling good about life without all the tinsel and lights - you know, that plain, ole everyday life that deep down inside you truly do enjoy.

1. Set new goals

I won’t harp on this one too long because I just wrote an entire post about it last week, but setting goals is a fantastic way to get some motivation flowing into the new year. Whether it’s learning a new hobby or improving an old one, write down something you'd like to be better at this time next year and get after it. 

2. Declutter your home

I probably clean out my closet once a month. There’s something freeing about getting rid of stuff you don’t need or really even want anymore. Bonus points if you can donate it and know that someone else will get to enjoy it. 

Decluttering is beneficial for the obvious reason that it creates more space in your home, but it’s also super mentally healthy to practice letting go of something that has run its course. There’s a ton of research out there to support this. I actually just ordered Marie Kondo’s best-seller “The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up,” which focuses on getting rid of items that don’t bring us happiness. I’ll let you know if it’s actually life-changing, but in the meantime, get to decluttering.

3. Get some exercise

Whether it’s hitting the gym for a workout or walking your dog around the block, do something to get your blood pumping. While exercise is recommended as part of our daily routines for physical reasons, the mental and emotional benefits are pretty awesome too. Physical activity is proven to stimulate chemicals in your brain that can improve your mood. Plus working out gives you more energy by delivering oxygen and nutrients to different parts of your body. This article explains it. Shoot for at least 30 minutes a day, but if you don’t have the time or just flat-out don’t want to do it, try taking a walk around your neighborhood and see if it lifts your spirits. 

4. Start a side hustle

This blog has been giving me so much life since the holidays. I enjoy writing posts for you guys, and it gives me something that’s not stressful that I can pour my time and creative energy into when I’m not working. I love my job. I love running my media company. I feel grateful to be able to do what I do. But it is a job. And I have deadlines. And even though I’m my own boss, there are responsibilities and work that just has to get done. But with this blog, I have the creative freedom to write about whatever I want. And if no one reads it, so what – because I enjoyed the process. 

So find your “blog.” Maybe for you it’s a business you’ve always wanted to start but never really got serious about putting the time and energy into. Maybe it’s painting or woodwork or photography or dance. Maybe it’s e-commerce or stocks or real estate or something else I don’t understand. If it brings you joy, it’s not really work – it’s a side hustle. 

My husband and I have set aside Tuesday nights to work on our side hustles, and it’s quickly become my favorite night of the week. We eat dinner at home and then go into the home office, and I write blog posts or work on my book and he works on setting up his new business. We usually end up helping each other out, and it’s just fun to encourage each other and chase our little dreams together. I think when we have kids someday and life is freaking insane, we will look back on these nights and be grateful for this whimsical time together.

Pick a night. Chase your dream. Start your side hustle.

5. Find your routine

I know it feels like years ago, but believe it or not before all those late nights binge-watching holiday movies while eating Christmas cookies and chugging eggnog, you did have somewhat of a routine. And it may not have been half bad. While the turn of the year is a great time to set goals and make changes, it could just be that you need to reconnect with your old routine. The one you had before the holidays. If it was working for you then, it can certainly work for you now.

6. Spend time with your people

Ok, family is awesome. I LOVE spending time with my family during the holidays. But… being around people, even ones you love…

consistently…

day and night…

for several days in a row…

can be draining. My husband and I spent six days straight surrounded by our families over the holidays. We truly loved it. But when we got home at the end of day six, we realized we were completely exhausted. And we didn’t want to see people for several days.

This is totally fine, and even healthy. But it can be tempting to feel tired and slip into that introvert mode (which is rarely-charted territory for me personally) and just stay there. Before you know it, a week has passed and you’ve spent every evening alone on your couch watching Netflix. We need people. We were made for community. Call a friend. Go get a drink together. Go see a movie. Go on a group run. Go to dinner with your family. Go play tennis. Call your grandmother. Go to church. Go to a coffee shop. Just interact with another human. Or two. Or 20. Don’t get in a funk and be hyper-introverted and go a week without seeing anyone.

Just don’t.

It gets sad and dark, and I’m not about that life for myself or for you.

7. Just feel stuff

This is a hard one for me. When life is busy and chaotic (kind of like during the holidays), it’s easy to suppress negative emotions and pretend they don’t exist. I am incredible at this. When the N’SYNC holiday album stops playing and there’s no one left to buy gifts for and I don’t have to vacuum up bristles from the tree every 15 minutes, I am left with time to feel things. 

Things I sometimes don’t want to feel.

But we need to feel things. We need to recognize when we are sad or angry or fearful or anxious, and we need to know that that is ok. 

So maybe the best solution to fighting the post-holiday blues is to not fight them at all. 

Maybe the best solution is to just sit in them. And be still. And quiet. And feel.

But just for a little bit. 

Because then you have to get back out there and chase your dreams and declutter your home and spend time with your people and rule the world and stuff. Just don’t be scared of the feelings. They’re not so bad. We all have them. And if you need to talk to someone about it, that’s ok too. 

How to Crush Your Goals in 2018... And What Happens if you Don't

I’ve been told we’re supposed to call them goals and not resolutions now. Personally, I don’t think it matters what you call them as long as you are committed to working toward them.

The turn of the year is always an exciting time for me because I absolutely love the idea of a fresh start – of wiping the slate clean and getting another chance to get it right. To be better. To do more. Or less. To push ourselves. To love deeper. 

This year, I tried to focus on ending the year with gratitude. I recently began following Shauna Niequist on Twitter, and she posted about a tradition she and her family do. Each New Year’s Eve, they write down 10 things they are thankful for from that year. My husband and I adopted this exercise this year, and it was so uplifting to reflect on the year and list out all of the experiences we are grateful to have had. I highly recommend it. 

Once we finished those lists, we turned to a new page and wrote out our goals for 2018. We decided on five categories: 

Personal

Professional

Physical

Financial

Spiritual

We each wrote down at least one goal in each category. Then we discussed ways to make them realities. 

I wanted to share some perimeters we set for our goals this year, in hopes of helping you crush it in 2018.

1. Set Attainable Goals

Tyler always tells me I am “all or nothing.” It’s actually become a common joke in our house. I jump in the car and turn the heat on full blast at 90 degrees. “All or nothing,” Tyler will say. I talk about wanting to run more often and 30 minutes later register for a full marathon. “All or nothing.” I hear about a new podcast and listen to the entire season in one day. “All or nothing.”

I laugh when he says it, but the truth is I do have tendencies to be a bit impulsive, and when I commit to something I really commit… at first, anyway. This is usually why I am terrible at new year’s resolutions. I take off full speed ahead on January 1st after some lofty, unrealistic goal, filled with ambition and drive. “This year, I’m going to travel to the moon, adopt a polar bear and solve world hunger.”

All or nothing.

Only it ends up being nothing. Because we all know, it is not realistic for me to travel to the moon, adopt a polar bear and solve world hunger – not all in the same year anyway. But on January 1st, when I get on that inspirational high, there’s no telling me otherwise. 

So this year, we tried to shut that down before it even began by making sure all of our goals are actually attainable. For instance, for my physical goal I wanted to try to run every day. Maybe for some people this is totally possible, but the reality is, this is my first year running my media company full time, I’m trying to blog twice a week and write a book and spend time with my husband and have a social life and keep my pets alive, so running every single day is probably not going to happen. I am now realistically aiming to run 3-4 times each week, which is totally doable and healthy for me. Attainable goal.

2. Be Specific

If being unrealistic with goals is the most common mistake people make on New Year’s Day, not being specific enough has got to be a close second. This year, we intentionally set precise goals to work toward. For our financial goals, instead of “save more,” Tyler put a target amount to shoot for each month. For personal, instead of “write more,” I’m aiming to write from 9 a.m. - 12 p.m. every Friday. 

When we’re not definitive, it gives us too much wiggle room to trick ourselves into thinking we’re making more progress than we actually are. We may not want to be specific because it opens us up to failure. If I say I’m going read 40 books, and I only read 30, then I failed at my goal. Failing makes us feel vulnerable, and none of us like that. (I’ll write a little more about failure further along in the post.) The truth is, setting specific goals should motivate us to have an exact target to work toward. So be brave, and be specific.

3. Check Yo Self

The reason we love new year ressies is because they are full of possibility. If we’re being honest, they are not as fun three months later when you are no longer feeling motivated to change. That’s why it’s important to set a time to check in on your progress a few times during the year. 

I set a reminder on my calendar for the end of March, to prompt Tyler and myself to check our progress and see where we stand when it comes to accomplishing our goals. We plan to do this every three months. This is necessary for a couple of reasons.

1. If you have neglected your goals, it serves as a reminder to get back on track.
2. If you are frustrated that your goals are not as easy to achieve as you thought they would be, this is a fabulous time to think back on why you set them in the first place. It can help you get motivated once again to finish what you started.

Check yo self.

4. If Nothing Changes, You Are Still Enough

I need to get this tattooed on my forehead or something because I forget it 

every 

single 

day. 

It’s so easy to get caught up in the hype of goal-setting and achieving and growing and learning and progress. And while these things are not bad, at the end of the day, accomplishing or not accomplishing your goals does not define who you are as a person. 

If nothing changes in 2018 – if you do not take a single step toward being a more successful person than you are today, if you do not make more money, lose more weight, read more books, spend less time on social media, learn a new skill, travel to a new country, go to the moon, adopt a polar bear or solve world hunger, you will be ok because you are enough. You are lovable and capable and worthy exactly as you are. 

Desiring to do better – to be better – is a positive exercise, but it in no way gives you more purpose or validation than you have right now. Today.

So I hope you rock 2018. I hope you set attainable and specific goals, and I hope you check in on them throughout the year and remind yourself why you started this journey. And if December 31st rolls around and nothing has changed

I hope you know you are enough.

Best Books I Read in 2017 (By Category)

I have never been much of a reader, but in 2017 I wanted to change that. After only reading one book in all of 2016 and none that I can recall in 2015, I decided to try and read 30 books this year. 

I failed.

I did manage to finish 25 books though, which is quite an improvement from the years before so I’m not totally disappointed. 

I’ve set a goal to read 40 in 2018 because I plan to work in more audiobooks. (I only recently discovered I enjoy them). I realize there are people out there who read hundreds of books each year, but I have accepted the fact that I will never be one of those people. I do think I can manage 40 though, and if that goes well, we'll reevaluate and go from there. 

But before we take off into the new year, I wanted to share some of my favorites of 2017 for anyone who cares. So here we go…

Favorite Fiction Book: A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman

Summary: I’ve yet to find a way to summarize this one in a way that sounds appealing. When people ask me what it’s about I say “Oh it’s spectacular! It's about this old man who is trying to kill himself, but his neighbors keep interrupting him.” It’s much more pleasant and upbeat than it sounds. I flew through it because I just fell in love with the characters so much, especially Ove.

Most important takeaways: We never know what people are going through, and even grumpy people need friends.

Favorite quote: “We always think there’s enough time to do things with other people. Time to say things to them. And then something happens and then we stand there holding on to words like ‘if.’”

Honorable mention (Fiction): The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion 

Favorite Non-fiction Book: Braving the Wilderness by Brene`Brown

Summary: Brene` Brown is queen. This book is about discovering true belonging mainly by accepting and loving yourself. I had to reread several of the paragraphs multiple times before the points really sank in, but there’s a good chance I will reread this book every year to remind myself of its truths. 

Most important takeaways: You will never be open with sharing your story – especially its ugly parts – with others until you make peace with it. And there is an important difference in fitting in and belonging.

Favorite quote: “True belonging is the spiritual practice of believing in and belonging to yourself so deeply that you can share your most authentic self with the world and find sacredness in both being a part of something and standing alone in the wilderness. True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.”

Honorable mention (Non-fiction): Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller

Favorite Work-Related Book: Design Your Day by Claire Diaz-Ortiz

Summary: My former boss gave me this tiny book, and I was surprised at how much I loved it. This will also be a re-read for me because it’s packed with valuable information on how to best manage your time and also focuses on the importance of rest and self-care.

Most important takeaways: It’s ok to say no. Even if you don’t have a reason. To commitments. To events. To people. To the pressure to have it all together. It’s ok to say no.

Favorite quote: “In everything we do, we need to think about when we are really making an impact and always seek out the way to do less to do more.”

Honorable mention (Work-Related): The Art of Work by Jeff Goins 

Favorite Children’s Book: The Magician’s Nephew by C.S. Lewis

Summary: I don’t know how I never read the Chronicles of Narnia as a child, but I missed that boat completely. I know most everyone is familiar with The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, but The Magician’s Nephew was completely unfamiliar to me, and it rocked my world. In this story, two kids get transported into another world by a magician and it leads them on a massive adventure. This is the book in which Aslan actually sings Narnia into existence, and I cried when I read that part. I still have to finish the last two books in the series, but this is my favorite thus far.

Most important takeaways: Just because we’re adults doesn’t mean we have to lose our imaginations. 

Favorite quote: “He has made himself unable to hear my voice. If I spoke to him, he would only hear growling and roarings. Oh Adam’s son, how cleverly you defend yourself against all that might do you good.” - Aslan

Honorable mention (Children’s): Orphan Island by Laurel Snyder

Favorite Memoir: Yes Please by Amy Poehler

Summary: I’ve always thought Amy was hilarious, but in this book she’s both really funny and really real. I liked seeing this other side of her. Also, this was my first ever audiobook to listen to. She reads it herself, which makes it that much more enjoyable. 

Most important takeaways: Dream big, work hard and don’t do things for other people. Do it for yourself. 

Favorite quote: “You do it because the doing of it is the thing. The doing is the thing. The talking and worrying and thinking is not the thing.”

Honorable mention (Memoir): Bossypants by Tina Fey

Since I only completed 25 books, that’s about all of the categories I can cover. I’m hoping to expand my categories next year and maybe have more honorable mention awards. A few books I’ve already purchased and are sitting on my cute little bookshelf ready to be perused are:

Present over Perfect by Shauna Neiquist
The Hate You Give by Angie Thomas
Daring Greatly by Brene` Brown
Finish by Jon Acuff
The Imperfectionists by Tom Rachman

Others on my “Want to Read” list on GoodReads include:

All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Deer
Invisible Influence by Jonah Berger
Where’d You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple
The Magnolia Story by Chip Gaines
Rocket Fuel by Gino Wickman
Talk Like TED by Carmine Gallo
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran For
The Royal We by Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan
Being Boss by Kathleen Shannon and Emily Thompson

What else should I add to my list for 2018? Let me know in the comments. And don’t forget to put in your email below to subscribe to this blog.

5 Ways to Rest During the Holidays

I have a new problem with the phrase “slow as Christmas.” I understand that when you’re a child Christmas takes forever to arrive, but I think it’s safe to say it flies by for those of us over the age of 12. 

I swear it was October 1st like 3 hours ago, and we were all freaking out over pumpkin spiced lattes and taking pictures of our boots sprinkled with leaves, and now look at us. In just a few short days we have to take down all the lights and garland and go back to normal life where houses don’t twinkle at night and my home doesn’t smell like I live in a wintery forest high in the mountains of Scandinavia. 

With all the last-minute shopping, frantic wrapping (and rewrapping when I cut the paper too short), Dirty Santa party attending and praline making, I feel like every year the holidays are over before I even get to enjoy them. But not this year. This year, I am trying to be intentional about relaxing, resting and actually acknowledging my favorite time of year before it passes by yet again (even if it took me until the week before its arrival to do so). 

I’ve come up with 5 things to do and not do in order to rest – really rest – this holiday season.

1. Don’t Build a Gingerbread House

Ingredients: 
1 gingerbread house kit
1 garbage can

Ok, if you really like building gingerbread houses, you can skip this one, but man, those things are straight from Satan. In this step, “building a gingerbread house” is actually a blanket statement intended to encompass all of those holiday traditions we do because we feel like we’re supposed to but we actually don’t enjoy at all. 

I used to feel like I had to build a gingerbread house every Christmas and pretend it was fun, because it was supposedly such a festive, jolly activity, but here’s the truth: It’s not fun for me. It does not bring me joy. It’s sticky and messy and frustrating and I always end up eating too much icing and getting a headache. So I’m not building one, and I’m finding so much delight in knowing that I don’t have to. 

2. Do Something Nice for Someone

Ingredients:
1 honey-baked ham

One weeknight last Christmas I was in a terrible mood. It was just a few days before Christmas and I was throwing a fit in my living room about how I hadn’t even had a chance to enjoy the holidays yet because I had been so busy. My husband suggested we watch a Christmas movie, and I snapped back at him that I didn’t have time. He left the living room, and when he came back he was holding a honey-baked ham.

“What do you want me to do with that?” I said to him in the most irritable of tones. 

“Come on,” he said. “We’re taking it to the neighbors. Someone at work gave it to me, and we don’t really need it.”

“Can’t you just take it?” I said, looking down at my list of things I had planned to accomplish that day. 

“No, I think you need to come with me,” he said as he put on his coat. “Let’s go.”

So we walked over to our neighbor’s house and delivered the honey-baked ham. They were so appreciative and said the kindest words of thanks, and according to my husband I “skipped” the entire way home. "We should watch a Christmas movie,” I said as we walked back into our driveway. He rolled his eyes. 

Doing something nice for someone else, even if it’s not a huge sacrifice for you, can make you feel so much better about the holidays. It sounds counterproductive to add one more thing to get done during the busiest time of year, but in my experience, it always brings me back to what the season is really about.

3. Don’t Read/Watch the News

Ingredients:
Self-control

Typically, I am a strong proponent of staying informed on what’s going on in the news, locally, nationally and internationally. As a former news reporter, it drives me crazy when people make irresponsible and uneducated posts on social media (I’m mainly looking at you, Facebook) about a topic they clearly haven’t bothered to research.  But – lately, the news makes me stressed and overwhelmed and a little rashy. A lot of it is over my head, and I feel helpless and like I have no power to change anything. These are not positive feelings. This is not how I want to spend my Christmas. 

So I’m taking a few days off from reading news articles – specifically anything out of Washington. Just until after the holidays. Instead, I’m going to spend that time reading a fiction novel or watching The Grinch for the 10,679th time. Because I still laugh every time his echo yells back at him, and that makes my heart light. 

4. Do Drive Around and Look at Christmas Lights

Ingredients:
1 motorized vehicle
1 cup of hot chocolate per person in said vehicle
1 90’s greatest hits playlist - Christmas edition

Most of us would agree this is or sounds like a carefree holiday activity, but how many of us actually get off the couch, put our phones away and cruise through nearby neighborhoods singing/shouting Mariah Carey at the top of our lungs? Of all the Christmas activities, this is my absolute favorite, but it does require a bit of intentionality. You have to actually decide that you are not going to be productive for a night. You are not going to wrap any presents or clean your house or check anything off your to-do list. You are going to forget about the never-ending list and instead simply gaze at the sparkling lights and let your mind wander. Because this is that one special time of year where adults are still whimsical and fun and selfless. Selfless because they spend time adorning their own homes with lights, purely for passers-by to enjoy. For you to enjoy So go enjoy it.

5. Don’t Try to Please Everyone

Ingredients:
1 ability to not give a sh*t

I know you want to give every person you’ve met the most thoughtful gift they’ll ever receive, and I know you want your house to look like a five-star resort when your in-laws come to visit, and I know you’d like to be the superhero who brings three casseroles AND two desserts to the party…

but what if you didn’t? 

What if you only bought gifts for the people who matter most to you and you just got them things you thought they might enjoy? What if you left your house exactly as is and your in-laws discovered people actually lived there? What if you just picked up a side dish from a local restaurant to bring to the party? Would the world keep spinning? Would Christmas still come? 

It would.

I promise it would.

You do not have to be all things to all people this Christmas… or ever but that’s a whole ‘nother post.  This is new to me too, but it’s ok to say “no” sometimes. To not attend every event you’re invited to. To throw a gift in a re-used bag instead of hand-wrapping it. To leave the party early just because you’re tired. It’s ok. In fact, it’s healthy. And as awful as it might feel to say “no,” you’ll be much happier and much more rested this holiday season if you do.

What are your favorite ways to rest during the holidays? Let me know if the comments. Or don’t. Because that’s ok too.

We Can't Forget About Them

I recently went to Haiti to film a video for a malnutrition clinic. The clinic is run by Jordan and Rebecca – two normal white girls, much like myself, who happen to care a whole lot about people.

Jordan and Rebecca run Potter and Clay Ministries in Mare Rouge, which is located in Northwest Haiti. When Moore Media Group was asked to come shoot some footage for them, I almost immediately said yes. I thought this would be an exciting adventure. A chance to explore a new country and film in an unfamiliar environment. To make memories I’d carry with me for the rest of my life. 

I had no idea it would totally wreck my world.

We arrived in Port-au-Prince early on a Sunday afternoon. We had been traveling since 3 that morning, so I was glad to finally embark on the last leg of the journey. Port-au-Prince was loud and vibrant and chaotic. There were people everywhere. Drivers followed virtually no traffic laws. As we navigated our way through the narrow streets in our Land Cruiser, tiny trucks whizzed by us with 10 passengers riding in the bed. People squeezed by on motorcycles and bicycles. There were so many pedestrians, I’m still amazed that we didn’t hit anyone. A nice Haitian man was our driver. I say “nice” because he had kind eyes. He didn’t speak English, so I don’t actually know if he was nice or just tired and ready to be home.

Once we made it past the noisy pandemonium that was Port-au-Prince, we went through a few other smaller cities and then the road was no more. It just stopped. The Crusier on the other hand, pressed onward.

This is where we began our ascent. I’d like to say we were on a trail, but there were parts of the trip when I felt like we were cruising along aimlessly into the wide open wilderness. If you’ve ever been on a motion ride at a theme park, you will not have a hard time imagining how this 10-hour car ride felt. We bumped and rocked the entire way – sometimes front to back, others left to right, but we were never just stationary.

The terrain changed probably five times during our 10-hour drive. At moments it felt like we were in a desert – cacti (I don’t think that’s the proper term but I like it) appearing on either side of us. Other times we rolled along a beautiful beach, and I really felt the tropical island vibe. Then we went through what felt like a jungle – trees closing in on us – animals running across our path. It was quite a journey, and while I’d like to say I enjoyed taking it all in, my carsick-prone self kissed the ground when we finally arrived to Mare Rouge and I may have cried happy tears.

Mare Rouge is a world away from Port-au-Prince. There are no streets – only dirt pathways. There are no tall buildings – just small homes, some of which might collapse if a strong wind passed through. There are far fewer motor-vehicles – more people leading donkeys with baskets of rice or beans on their backs. Mare Rouge is what you picture when you think of a third-world country, but it is not just an image in our minds, it is a very real place with very real people. 

The next three days were scheduled out for us – packed with hours of filming interviews and b-roll of the day to day lives of Jordan and Rebecca and their team of 14 at Potter and Clay Ministries. Out of the 10 interviews I conducted, Jordan and Rebecca were the only ones who spoke English. It was fascinating to work with a translator for the other interviews. My translator’s name was Rousier (pronounced like woozy-ay). When we broke for meals, he told us riveting stories about his life. He had been accidentally separated from his parents as a small child and grew up in an orphanage. He is a genius, and I don’t remember the number of languages he spoke, but it’s more than I will learn in my entire lifetime. 

Rousier is just one of the hardworking, giant-hearted individuals who helped Jordan and Rebecca get their clinic on its feet. There is a mass of others who deeply believe in the work they are doing. It brought me to tears to see the community coming together to be a part of this ministry. As Americans, because we are privileged and a bit entitled, it’s tempting for us to look at Jordan and Rebecca and think of them as the white girls to the rescue – going to Haiti and saving the lives of innocent, impoverished, malnourished children. But that’s not what’s happening. They are living life with the people of Mare Rouge, and the people have taken them in and accepted them as their own, and as a team, they are changing the culture.

At Potter and Clay Ministries, the team is taking in and caring for sick, hurting children, but they are doing so much more. They are teaching parents how to keep this from happening in the future. They are showing them how to grow and purchase affordable products to prevent malnutrition before it steals anymore precious lives. They are sitting with women and with their own hands, showing them how to pump milk from their breasts. They are teaching courses on hygiene and nutrition. And as a team, they are making a difference. They are saving lives. 

This was a lot for my typically emotionally-detached self to absorb in three short days. I saw a great deal of poverty, but even more hardship and just sheer exhaustion. What bothered me most about all of this is I didn’t know this was happening. 

That feels embarrassing to admit – to say aloud that I didn’t know people were hurting so badly in places like Mare Rouge. But that is the advantage of the privileged, white, middle-class American that I am. I have the option to be misinformed and uneducated on the conditions around the world. It’s far too easy for me to buy into the lie that I’ve been told my entire life that “people in third-world countries are happier than most Americans” because it makes us feel better to believe that. 

I think we say this, especially in churches, in a well-intentioned attempt to compel Americans to be grateful for the possessions they have, as opposed to always wanting more. And while I agree, we could all use a little more gratitude, I think this lie blinds us to the actual circumstances people are facing. 

Most of the mothers I interviewed in Mare Rouge have lost a child to malnutrition. And several of the people I talked to weren’t sure where their next meal was coming from. One woman walked through the mud for three hours every week, carrying her newborn twins in her arms, to get formula for them because she didn’t have any other means to do so. And then she walked those three hours back home. I don’t care how persuasive you are, you will not be able to convince me that that woman is happier than the people sitting next to me in Starbucks right now sipping on their lattes and comparing the multitude of toys they bought their children for Christmas. It’s a lie, and I don’t believe it anymore.

I will say, the people of Mare Rouge are content with their lives, but what other option do they have? Where are they supposed to go? What are they supposed to do? They don’t get to have dreams of traveling to Italy or publishing a book or running a business or going to see the northern lights. They just go to the market every Tuesday and Thursday and do what they can to provide for the people they love most. And that is their lives. That is their world. And we have forgotten about them. 

We have chosen to believe the lie that they are fine and look the other way to their suffering. I’m not saying they want our lives. Because Lord knows we are a mess over here in the States. But on a whole, we are not hungry. Not like they are. We are not losing our children to malnutrition. And we can’t pretend it’s not happening. 

So I don’t know where to go with this. But I can’t just act like it’s not there anymore because I’ve seen it. I’ve held the babies in my arms and hugged a woman crying as she told me about her baby’s death and heard the heartbreaking stories of suffering. And I have to do something. 

When I told my husband this, his face got white and he said “Are you saying we have to move to Haiti?” I laughed and told him “No, I don't think so.” I don't know what I’m supposed to do, but I do know what Jordan and Rebecca and their awesome team of Hatian people are doing. And I can support them. And so can you. Because the anguish and exhaustion of day to day life in Mare Rouge is real. And the people are real And we can't forget about them.

Click here if you’d like to donate to Potter and Clay Ministries

I Am Not a Runner

I’ve never felt like a runner. 

Not a real runner anyway. Running was just something I did to clear my head. Or stay in shape. Or be alone for just a small block of my day. But I was not a real runner. 

Real runners ran marathons and tracked their distance and pace and heart rate and calories and whatever other statistic you could possibly track while running. They bought special shoes and socks and headbands and sports bras. Real runners suffered shin splints and lost toenails and chafed in unspeakable places. But not me. I was not a real runner.

Until recently.

Because recently, I ran my first full marathon. 26.2 miles. And I tracked my distance and my pace and all the other things. I bought special shoes and socks and clothes. I chafed in all the places and even nearly lost a toenail. I spent four months training. Over the course of those four months, I ran hundreds of miles. I ran early in the morning or late at night or when it was hot or when it was cold or in the rain or when I was on vacation or when I was just tired and grumpy and didn’t want to do it. I did the work, so I could be a runner. But you know what? 

I am still not a runner.

When I crossed the finish line and the crowd cheered and a kind volunteer put a medal around my neck, I thought I would feel like a runner. 

But I didn’t. 

I still just felt like me.

And then I started thinking of all of the other things I am not.

I am not a writer. Real writers have published books and get paid money to string words together and drink whisky in a remote cabin in the woods with their cat named Felix. They wear glasses and spend their spare time reading Dickens and Tolstoy and don’t need to reference a thesaurus to think of a better word. 

Real writers sit at their desks for hours on end, missing meals because they are so immersed in the words flowing from their fingertips. They have strokes of genius in the middle of the night, and get out their laptops to capture the mad thoughts. They take calls with publishers and travel around the country for book-signings and speaking engagements, all while constantly working on their next best-seller. 

No, I am not a real writer.

I am not a business owner. Real business owners wear pantsuits and hold boring meetings just to talk about other boring meetings. They drive expensive cars and don’t answer the phone because they are too busy doing business owner things. Business owners set up conference calls and attend seminars. They have people who work for them that do all the things they don’t want to do. 

No, I am not a business owner.

Why do we think this way? Are we waiting for some officially official, notarized certificate to arrive by owl from Hogwarts deeming us real and giving us authority?

Do we need someone to put a stamp on our foreheads that reads “runner” or “writer” or “business-owner” or whatever you want your stamp to say? Are we hoping someone – anyone – will verify us and tell us we are valid?

Those things aren’t going to happen. I mean, the stamp on your forehead might, but then how annoying would that be to wash off? 

We have to stop waiting for validation. I’ve been thinking a lot about this since my race and have had a few conversations with some people much wiser than I, and I have a new theory. I think we know we are the things (runner, writer, business-owner – whatever), we are just afraid to say it aloud.

Saying “I am a runner” or a writer or a business-owner opens me up to worlds of disappointment. Because if I am not those things – if I am just me goofing off and playing around and not really committing – then if I fail I have nothing to lose… because I never really cared.

But if I actually care – If I put my heart and soul and determination and focus into the thing, if I put forth my very best effort and invest my time and money and energy trying – really trying – and it doesn’t work out… then I am a failure. 

And I do not want to be a failure.

But maybe being a failure isn’t the worst thing in the world. Maybe we need to fail sometimes because failing means we tried. It means we committed. We cared. 

And maybe that’s not a total failure after all. 

So be the thing. Whatever it may be.

Own it. 

I run, so I am a runner. I write, so I am a writer. I own a business, so I am a business-owner. And if I fail, then I will learn from it and go be something else. Because there are worse things than failing. 

Like not trying at all.

Mind Photos and Margaritas

It was 6 o’clock in the morning. The sun was eagerly making its way into the sky, and we were moving equally as fast to get out on the open road. We had a 10-hour trip to Orlando ahead of us, and there wasn’t a second to waste. 

Nana climbed up into my RAV4 (with a teensy little boost from yours truly), and I threw her 3-wheeled walker into the backseat. 

“Got everything?” I asked as I cranked the car.

“If not, we’ll buy it when we get there,” said Nana as she put on her sunglasses and ripped open her fresh bag of Cheetos. 

I reversed out of the driveway and began to think aloud about our plans for the next few days – “We’ll get there late this afternoon, so we should have time for dinner with Ashley and her crew.”

Ashley is my cousin who just had her second baby – a little boy who I was taking my Nana to meet.

“And then tomorrow I need to go for a run, but you can sleep in and maybe we can meet them for brunch and if we have time go to one of the Disney parks and…”

Nana cut me off before we even made it to the interstate.

“Have you heard of audiobooks?” she asked, as though I wasn’t right in the middle of a sentence. As though I wasn’t speaking at all.

“Ummm.. yes, Nana. I have heard of audiobooks.”

“Maybe you could put one on. I’m not listening to you talk the entire way to Orlando.”

……so much for quality time.

I opened my app and put on the preview of an audio book I’ve been wanting to listen to. “I don’t like this man’s voice,” said Nana a few sentences in. “What else ya got?”

I tried seven or eight others before we (and by ‘we’, I mean ‘she’) concluded that no one’s voice but Nana’s would do to pass the 10-hour drive. 

She began to tell me stories about her childhood. And then my dad’s childhood. And then hers again. And then she told me about my Pappy – her late husband – and how he had proposed to her. 

They were on their way to go dancing with friends. He was driving, she was in the passenger seat, and there was another couple in the backseat. Nana and Pappy weren’t seeing each other – just good friends. In fact, Nana had a date scheduled for the following evening with another man. 

She was a flight attendant and would be leaving soon to go back to work. Before she and Pappy (and their friends in the backseat) exited the vehicle, Pappy asked Nana if she wanted to get married. He said if she agreed, there was a ring waiting for her in the glove compartment.

“Why not?” she said, and put the ring on her finger. 

When she canceled her date with the other man the following day (I don’t know his name but we’ll call him Theodore which is definitely not it), Theodore said, “Peggy (that’s Nana's name to other people), when I asked you out, you said you weren’t seeing anybody.”

“Well,” Nana responded as she waved her hand around displaying her new ring, “when you asked me out, I wasn’t.”

And the rest is history. 

Pappy was a pilot, and he and Nana flew all over the country in his little puddle-jumper. She loved him deeply, and he was her world. They would’ve been married for a billion years and a day if he hadn’t been taken from this life too soon.

Nana continued to tell me stories for the entire ride to Orlando. 

(And she had been worried about ME talking too much.)

But it wasn’t too much. I enjoyed every second of it.

We had an incredible trip. We spent lots of time with family, stayed in a gorgeous hotel that my cousin hooked us up with, and laughed until our sides hurt.

On our final day, Nana wanted to go to Epcot so we could have margaritas in Mexico. Because if you don’t have margaritas in Mexico with your grandmother, are you really living?

We rented her a wheelchair, so she didn’t have to push her walker around the world. It started STORMING the moment I pushed her chair through the gate. Like the rain was coming down heavily and horizontally. I ran us into the nearest gift shop, which was of course packed with wet, frustrated park-goers whose evenings looked to be ruined.

“According to the radar, this isn’t passing until 10 p.m.,” said a lady next to us. “I bet they don’t even do the fireworks tonight.” It was early evening, and we had just arrived. We couldn’t just turn around and go back to our hotel. 

“Well, I guess we’re going to need some ponchos,” said Nana, as she got out her wallet. 

I smiled at the realization that we were on the same page. We were taking on Epcot during the thunderstorm. 

We bought two extremely over-priced ponchos. They were really just oversized Kroger bags with Mickey Mouse printed on the back of them, but we didn’t care. We were getting those margaritas.

Nana tucked into a tiny ball on the seat of her wheelchair, completely engulfed in her over-sized Kroger bag. She looked like a little hedgehog when they curl up as a defense against predators. I threw my poncho on and sprinted as best I could as I pushed Nana through the storm to try and make it to the next nearest country. It happened to be England. 

We forced our way into the crowded pub. There was no way we would make it across the world to Mexico in this weather. It was getting later in the night, and I was losing hope. It appeared as though this would be as good as it got for our evening in Epcot.

We did have one tool working in our favor – when you're pushing your soaking wet Nana in a wheelchair, people are more inclined to clear a path for you. Nana and I had no trouble scooting our way through the masses over to the jam-packed bar. 

The bartender looked at us like we were lost. “I need two margaritas.” I yelled over the chatty crowd. (a totally natural thing to order in an English pub). He looked a Nana and smiled, “Coming right up!”

We never made it to Mexico, but the rain did stop just before the fireworks were scheduled to blast into the night sky. I wheeled Nana over to the waterfront as the music began to blare through the overhead speakers and the sky was filled with light and color. She began to cry.

I looked at her face, as she stared up at the spectacle. I could see the fireworks reflecting in her  tear-filled eyes. For a moment, the whole world stood still. I didn’t hear the music or the roaring bursts in the sky anymore. I forgot anyone else was around us. And I wanted to remember everything about that little window of time.

I closed my eyes and tried to take it all in. Just for a second. The sounds, the smell of the rain, the colors of the lights – and Nana. Sitting in her wheelchair soaking wet, poncho hood still covering her head, gazing up at the fireworks with wonder.

"I want to remember this moment for my whole life,” I thought to myself.

And I took a little photo in my mind. There are other times I have done this. When my husband proposed (also during a thunderstorm). When we got lost and ended up watching the sun set over Giant’s Causeway off the coast of Northern Ireland. When my dad looked at me and said, “You ready?” just before he walked me down the aisle. When I had to tell my Aunt Jean goodbye for the last time.

It’s important to stop and remember moments. The words said, the colors around you, the sounds, the smells, the feelings, and most importantly the people. Life happens so fast. But if you stop for just a moment and intentionally take it all in – really make time stand still – I think you can hold onto that moment and look back at it whenever you want.

Also, if you ever have the opportunity to have margaritas with your Nana in an English pub, I highly recommend it.

An Open Letter to the Girl at the Gym

I love to run. For me, running is an escape from reality. A break from the duties and burdens each day brings. It is how I clear my head and rest my mind.

However, I do not enjoy the gym. Or perhaps I should say I do not enjoy all the people at the gym. It’s terribly difficult to have alone-time when you are surrounded by people. But if it’s raining outside, and I don’t necessarily feel like jogging through a thunderstorm, this is inevitably where I end up.

I have always had a few pet peeves about these people at the gym - as we all do. People listening to their music too loud. Or not wiping their own sweat off the machine when they’re finished. But there is one grievance that irks me above all others.

Imagine if you will you are on a treadmill. You are running at a comfortable pace - jamming to Bruno Mars in your earbuds (at a polite volume, of course), and some woman comes up beside you and starts running on the treadmill that’s practically touching yours WHEN THERE ARE 18 OTHER OPEN TREADMILLS IN THIS VERY ROOM.

Why? Why do you feel the need to run next to me when you could run several yards away from me? If you are several yards away from me, we are just two women at the gym doing our own separate workouts. But if you are on the treadmill next to me, we are racing. And I am going to win. If you are running at a 6.4 pace, I will run at a 6.6. And I will not stop until you stop because I am competitive and stubborn and outright ridiculous.

At least this is how I used to feel. But not last week. Last week was different.

It was storming on Tuesday – like lightning, thunder, horizontal rain storming. So I gathered up my workout gear and headed to the gym for the first time in quite a while. I got on the treadmill and began my run. About two miles in, a girl got on the treadmill right beside me. Of course, my immediate reaction was to be annoyed with her because there were plenty of other available treadmills that were not located right next to me. But she chose that one. And the strangest thing happened. 

I didn’t mind.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as she began her run, and for quite possibly the first time in my life, I didn’t feel the need to be faster than her. I didn’t feel the need to run farther than she did. I didn’t feel the need to compete with her at all. I just felt proud of her.

Proud of her determination. Proud of her grit. Her stamina. Her sweat. Her dedication. Proud that she was at the gym, taking time out of her day to do something healthy for herself. Not for her boss or her husband or her kids or her friends. But her. And only her.  

I wanted to tell her how proud I was of her. How honored I was to run beside her. How in a world full of constant phone calls, urgent emails, never-ending to-do lists and demands around every corner, we were just two women - running side by side. Taking a break from it all to care for ourselves. And that’s ok.

I imagined her earlier that day getting off of work – leaving behind a profusion of unfinished projects. Getting in her car and pausing for a minute to listen to that voice inside of her head telling her she didn’t have time for a workout today. She still had to cook dinner, finish the laundry she started this morning, call her mother back, work on that proposal that was due Friday. She should really just skip the gym and head home. But she didn’t listen to that voice. She chose to do something good for herself – even if it meant putting all the other responsibilities on hold. And for that I wanted to hug her. I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and say “We did it!” 

But I didn’t do that. Mostly because I was covered in sweat and she’s never seen me before in her life, so it would have likely not been well-received. We finished our workouts and went our separate ways. Both returning to lives full of demands and obligations – not all bad, but time-consuming nonetheless. But together, we returned to them with stronger bodies, clearer minds and lighter hearts.

So my running friend, if you’re out there and reading this please know that I am not angry that you hopped on that treadmill next to me. On the contrary, I am so very happy that you did. I am proud of you. I am inspired by you. Keep choosing you. Keep choosing rest. And for those of you reading this who hate running and would never call it “restful,” find your mental break. Whether it be taking a walk through your neighborhood or diving into a good novel or praying or knitting or writing or whatever it may be. Just do it. Even when you don’t have time. Do it anyway. Because it is only when we are mentally recharged and refreshed, that we have the energy to best pour out love to others.

10-year-olds give me hope

My little sister, Anna, spent last week at our house with my husband and me. She went to a local soccer camp while I was at work, and then I picked her up in the afternoons and brought her to the office with me.

By day 2 she had already made herself at home. I glanced over my laptop to see her kicked back on one of the office couches, shoes off, wrapped up in a blanket and playing my iphone. One time I looked up and she was just gone. I frantically ran around the office to find her talking business with the accountant. By the time it was all said and done, she was practically running the place.

Tyler and I loved having her in town, though it did make our week rather unusual since it’s usually just the two of us. I mean, 10-year-olds can kind of take care of themselves-ish, so they’re not too high maintenance, but even though she’s relatively independent, it’s still a lot of work to keep her alive and entertained and give her all of my attention when she’s talking, because she’s almost always talking... or getting stuck in a doggie door.

I feel like we really got in some quality sister time. I got to see the world through her eyes for a week, and it was extraordinarily beautiful. I want to share with you a few things I learned from this wide-eyed little 10-year-old.

1. Just go with it.

Monday I was supposed to drop Anna off at a certain soccer camp. We got up extra early, ate breakfast, got dressed, coated her in sunscreen and loaded up her soccer gear. When we pulled up to the what should have been the camp’s location, there were no soccer players to be found. I asked a lady at the front desk where the soccer camp drop-off was and immediately knew something was not right. Her face looked both terrified and embarrassed for me. “Oh… that camp was canceled a few weeks ago,” she said slowly. “They sent out an email to all the parents.” 

My mom rarely checks her email, so we did not get word of the cancellation. 

Thanks, Mom. 

I immediately started brainstorming what to do with this 10-year-old because though I was excited to spend much of the week with her, I did actually have some obligation to my job. 

I explained to Anna what happened, and we got in my car and headed toward the office. On the way there, I was able to call around and get information on a few other camps happening in the area. “Anna, what about nature camp? Do you want to play with frogs? You could always just sit at my office all day. Maybe the library has some kind of summer program…” Though I could tell she was not thrilled about any of the previously listed options, she just shrugged at everything I asked and said “Doesn’t matter to me.” 

I finally found another soccer camp, even closer to my office. They said they could fit her in, and it worked out because it was actually a bigger and better camp than the one she would have attended. She was so excited, and I could tell that no part of her was deterred by the mixup. I on the other hand, felt as though I had already attended 3 meetings, a conference call and had been run over by an 18-wheeler all by the time I rolled into the office. But to Anna, it was as if the path she ended up on was where she had been headed all along. 

Anna 1 - Emily 0

2. Trust the people who love you.

By the fourth night Anna stayed with us, she was

WO. OUT. 

I spend most days going from one activity/commitment to the next, so I had just been letting her tag along with me. But what I didn’t realize about 10-year-olds was apparently they need some time to rest. When we were getting ready for bed, Anna started crying. Initially, she said she didn’t know why. Then she said she was scared because she heard a noise outside. Whether she actually heard a noise or was just making up a reason to justify her tears – I suppose we’ll never know. Either way, I had to calm her down. So I told her she had nothing to be afraid of because I was there to protect her.

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

Then I realized how ridiculous that sounded and assured her Tyler was also there in case I needed backup. Even though I would likely provide little protection against an intruder (I mean I would give it my best), Anna stopped crying when I said this. She believed me. She had confidence in me… even though I was lying (but that’s not the point). She didn’t ask for my plan of action; she just trusted me, stopped crying and drifted off to sleep… as I stayed awake wondering what caused the noise she claimed to have heard outside our window. 

Anna 2 - Emily 0

3. On that note, get some rest.

While we’re already talking about the lack of rest, I will tell you I did get better at giving Anna time to rest. I worked from home the following two afternoons while she napped on the couch. And I cancelled plans we had Wednesday so she could go to bed earlier. But I realized how difficult it was for me to consciously slow down my pace. 

I, and maybe you too, are so accustomed to going from one engagement to the next. If I’m not at a meeting or social obligation, I’m being productive at home (for instance it is nearly 11 p.m. as I write this, but I don’t want to go to sleep until it’s finished). Some, better yet, most of these activities are enjoyable, but not stopping and resting can take a toll on us. And I would be lying if I said I had never, like Anna, had tears streaming down my face and didn’t even know why. We are humans, and humans need rest – peaceful, wholesome, life-giving rest. 

Or else we’ll start making up stories about hearing a noise outside the window that cause our older sister to stay up half the night.

Anna 3 - Emily 0

4. It doesn’t matter what people think.

We all want to be adored and appreciated. But that doesn’t mean that we have to be perfect. On Day 2 of soccer camp, I picked Anna up and asked how her day went. “I fell in front of the entire camp,” she responded immediately. “Oh no,” I interrupted her, “What happened?”

“The coach picked me to stand in front of the whole camp and demonstrate a trick she taught us,” she went on. “I was trying to do the trick and tripped on my ball and fell on my face.” 

She started giggling.

“It was hilarious.”

I would have been MORTIFIED if this had happened to me. Sure, I would have laughed and acted like I didn’t care, but I totally would have cared. But I really don’t think Anna did. She just doesn’t care what people think about her, and of all of her spectacular traits, this is certainly one of my favorites. She says what she thinks. She knows when she’s good at something and when she needs to work on it. She’s terrible at telling jokes, and she will tell you that (after unsuccessfully attempting to tell about 18 jokes). Anna is just Anna, and right now, at the age of 10, that’s all she wants to be. 

I just wish I could tell her to stay the way she is – to remain little and pure and carefree. To keep her priorities exactly where they are presently, because for her right now, stopping for chocolate sprinkled donuts is more important than getting to soccer camp on time. And going for a walk with her older sister is more pressing than cleaning up after dinner. She loves vastly, and she brightens up even the most dreary of days. She gives me hope that if all the other 10-year-olds out there are like her, maybe – just maybe, the world is going to be ok.

Oh and final score, Anna 4 - Emily 0.

The "One Days"

I have always wanted to participate in a marathon. The idea of running 26.2 miles seems so satisfying and rewarding to me. I can just imagine crossing the finish line after 4+ hours of my sneakers hitting the pavement and my music blaring in my ears – my face red and dripping with hard-earned sweat. That feeling of “I did it. I really did it.”

I want that feeling.

I’ve done a hand full of half marathons, but I always have an excuse for not doing the full.

“I am too busy.”

“It’s too hot outside.” 

“My schedule isn’t consistent.”

“I need someone to train with me.”

“It’s too far out to commit to a race.”

“I can always do it later.”

Blah, blah blah and so on and so forth. All of those excuses (and the billion others I’ve used over the years) are still applicable, but running this race is something I really want to do – mainly just to prove to myself that I can.

And I’m finally doing it. 

I recently signed up for a full marathon in Savannah, Georgia this fall. I thought if I picked a place I had never been, the vacation would also be an incentive to train. So we’ll see how that goes.

This week I began an 18-week program that claims I will be ready by race day. On one of my runs earlier this week I was thinking about other things in my life I’ve put off because of excuses. Things I’ve always wanted to do but just never got around to. I’ve started calling them my “one days.” 

One day I’ll paint my living room.

One day I’ll publish a book.

One day I’ll have that difficult conversation. 

One day I’ll drink less coffee. (But probably not really.)

I think we all have have a list of “one days.” Things we’ll eventually get around to, but never do. 

One day I’ll create a budget.

One day I’ll go on that vacation.

One day I’ll change careers.

One day I’ll call my grandmother.

Our excuses are valid. Life is busy. And we’re overcommitted and usually tired, despite all the coffee. But something I’ve started working on lately is being more intentional with my time. Chipping away at my “one days.”

It’s daunting to look at my list and think, “This is such a massive undertaking. How am I going to make time for this?” But it shouldn’t be that intimidating. I don’t have to put the rest of my life on hold in order to take a step towards accomplishing one of my “one days.”

For example, my marathon. I’m not just going to wake up on November 4th, trot my happy butt down to the starting line and run 26.2 miles. I mean, that would be a heck of a lot less time-consuming, but it’s not very practical. On the other hand, I’m not going to quit my job, tell my husband I’ll talk to him in 4 months and say goodbye to my friends and family in order to train over the next 18 weeks. I’m just going to take baby steps – taking 30 minutes to an hour out of most days (and a little more once a week for long runs) to gradually prepare over the next few months. 

It will require a little bit of sacrifice and intentionality on my part, but it’s not going to consume my life. And it’s something I care deeply about, so to me, it’s worth it.

I hope someone out there besides me has a list of “one days.” And if it’s you, I hope you can start taking steps to cross them off your list. Because they require work and being willful and determined and focused, but it’s so very gratifying when one day you can finally cross off a “one day.”

Writing Again

I’m writing again. I tried this blog thing a while back, and it lasted about two years. Which is longer than I’ve committed to most jobs I’ve taken. That sounds like a joke, but it’s painfully true. 

I just kept choosing the wrong career paths, I suppose. Or maybe I knew they were wrong all along and just took them because someone offered to pay me every other week and cover my health insurance. They even threw in two weeks vacation (which is honestly like no time) and a 401k – which even though I didn’t know what it was at the time sounded like I had my ish together.

And the worst part is, these jobs I’d accepted – they are the reason I stopped writing. I would get up at 6 in the morning, terribly cranky because… well, it was 6 in the morning. I would drink my coffee and get ready for the day. My husband would leave for work before I would. I would kiss him goodbye and say “Call me at lunch,” as if he weren’t going to. As if he didn’t call me at lunch every Monday through Friday because it was the only smidgen of free time we had in our day. I would then finish getting ready and make sure the pets had been fed and glare at them with envy because they got to stay home all day. I swear I could rule the world if I had all the free time my pets have. But they will never rule the world because they are lazy. Especially my cat, Tony.

Following the moments of bitterness towards my cat and dog, I would get in my car with my packed lunch because.. budget. And I would drive the 25-30 minute commute to my office. I would sit in the car for a moment and – just kidding I was usually late, so I would immediately dash through the parking lot in my high heels, which I had no business wearing in the first place because that’s how people sprain ankles. And I would make it through the front doors just in time to yell “Base!” And by ‘yell’ I mean silently say to myself. Because though I wasn’t quite on the clock, I was in the building which if you think about it, is kind of equivalent to tagging base when you are a child playing hide-and-seek. No one could say I was late because dang it, I had tagged base before 8:00.

And it’s not like anyone important was there yet anyway. You think the CEO gets there at 8:00? Heckkkkkkkkk no. When you’re the CEO, you get to come in when you want and and leave when you want. THAT’S WHY WE ALL WANT TO BE THE CEO. 

I would catch my breath (from the mad sprint to base) as I walked to my desk. I would say “Hi” to other co-workers who looked as thrilled as I did to be there. “Another Monday, eh Chuck?” said one to a second. “Have a good weekend, Martha?” another would ask. Martha would then reminisce on her weekend at the lake house and we would all stare longingly into the distance wishing we were there instead of in that cold, mundane office. *Chuck and Martha are not real people I worked with. I can’t put real names because people get upset about these sorts of things.

We would then do monotonous work until our lunch breaks, which were one hour. And Lord forbid I stayed gone longer than an hour. Then we would try really hard to get anything done in the afternoon, but once you’ve had that little one-hour glimpse of freedom it’s difficult to get anything done. Plus you get that weird sleepy spell around 2:30 every day and try to figure out a way to nap at your desk with no one noticing. 

Then 4:00 rolled around and well, let’s just face it. 4 is practically 5 so I would spend the next hour procrastinating because it would just be plum silly to begin something new that late in the day. And when 5:00 hit, it was like that feeling you got when you were a kid on the last day of school before summer vacation. You want to throw your papers down the hall and stand on your desk shouting, “FREEEEEEEEEDOMMMMMMMM!” But you also don’t want to have to clean up those papers or for people to stare at you in a snarky manner when you return at 8 tomorrow morning, so you quietly pack up your belongings and speed walk to the parking lot. You never run because then people will get suspicious about how much in a hurry you were to leave. You just speed walk as though you have a very important engagement to be at in the next few minutes.

Then I would fight the traffic – ugh the traffic – to get home and finally shed that hostage-like feeling that came upon me earlier in the day. I would go for a run and cook dinner and do dishes and speak to my husband and do all the things I couldn’t do when I was at work. Before I knew it, the sun would set as day turned to dusk, and the exhaustion would settle in. And any “me” time be it for writing or reading or editing videos drifted away with the final remaining rays of sunshine. The day was done. And tomorrow, I knew I had to get up and do it all over again. And that is a sad, sad glimpse into the end of my former blog. 

But not anymore.

A friend asked me recently, how my media business was going. I told her it was doing very well, and she said “Great! So that’s the dream, right? To run Moore Media Group full time?”

To my own surprise I immediately said “Of course that’s not the dream. It’s just something I enjoy and that people will pay me to do.”

She looked confused. “Then… what is the dream?”

Without thinking I said, “Well, to write a book. That’s always been the dream. I’ve just never had time.”

And for the last several weeks that conversation has haunted me a bit. “I just never have time for my dream.” What a disheartening thought. It’s my dream. I have to have time for it. Or else younger me will be immensely disappointed with grown-up me. 

So I am starting to write again.

I don’t really know the logistics to publishing a book and such but I know writing is a requirement. And if I can’t even find time to write a blog post every now and then, how am I supposed to find time to write a book? 

So here it is. My first post back. I hope to do this regularly. And I hope it is fun for both you and me. I also hope that if you have a dream you have neglected for far too long, you have a friend who will have coffee with you and ask you, “what is the dream?” Because those friends are truly extraordinary. And so are your dreams.