I am a white girl, and I am with Kaepernick

I am a white girl from a small town in Mississippi. And right now, a lot of people on my newsfeed are mad at Nike for their new ad campaign. 

If you've been living under a rock, I'll break it down for you. In 2016, Colin Kaepernick silently remained seated during the national anthem before an NFL game to protest racial injustice and police brutality. This led to a movement that people have been arguing about for two years now.

People who oppose the movement have called it disrespectful. Some of them have suggested that Kaepernick and other players who have knelt alongside him should leave the country. Our president even called for NFL coaches to "Get that son of a b*tch off the field right now. Out! He’s fired. He’s fired!"

But here's what I think.

I think everyone is missing the point.

The invitation to join a difficult conversation.

Black men aged 15–34 are about 15 times more likely to be killed by police than other people. In 2017, police killed 19 unarmed black males, down from 36 in 2015, according to The Washington Post.

I think it's important to respect the national anthem. I am grateful for the men and women who have fought and continue to fight for our freedom. But I also think it's important to speak out when something is wrong. And the killing of these unarmed black men is wrong.

I respect our veterans. I love our country. I don't think all police are corrupt. But I can't be angry at a group of influential athletes for exercising their right to peacefully protest something as cruel and unjust as what is happening to our black brothers and sisters.

The people protesting love America. They just want it to be what it claims to be in its anthem – land of the free. If they're going to stand and honor our anthem, shouldn't it represent freedom – real freedom from racial profiling or injustice, for everyone?

I have never experienced racial injustice. I have never been followed by a cop or pulled over for no reason. I have never been suspiciously watched as I walk down the street. And neither have most of you reading this. I get it – I know how easy it is to say Kaepernick is being disrespectful and totally ignore the point he's trying to make, because that's much easier than looking at the bigger mess that is racial injustice.

It's far more simple to tell the NFL players to "stand up and do their job" than it is to listen to them and have a real conversation about what's happening in our country. 

But I can't do that anymore. Just because I am a white girl doesn't mean I shouldn't hurt when my black brothers and sisters hurt. And right now, many of them are hurting. 

So continue burning your Nike clothes if you want. Or maybe, actually try reaching out to your black brothers and sisters and learning about how you can be a part of the solution. 

As for me, I am choosing to listen. To try to understand. To educate myself. To ask how I can help. To take part in difficult conversations. To show compassion. And to hold hands with my black brothers and sisters.

"I have decided to stick with love... Hate is too great a burden to bear."
- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. 

---

P.S. If you would like book, blog, podcast, etc. recommendations on racial injustice, I'm happy to share. 

Let's Publish a Book

Ok, friends. I’ve been talking about this for nearly half my life, but I’m finally writing a book.

Like for real.

I’ve learned so much about the book publishing world over the last few months (which is why I haven't been blogging as frequently), and let me tell you it is just that – a whole different world. I’ll spare you the details for now, but here’s a short summary of where I’m at in the process:

I’ve put together a proposal for a book about self-worth and acceptance. It is a series of short stories, mostly humorous, some pretty deep, but all with a theme of grace. The tone is somewhere between Shauna Niequist (but less eloquent) and Amy Poehler (but not as funny because duh she is queen). I’m not going to release the title just yet, but will hopefully be able to release it soon(ish).

On July 31st, I’ll begin pitching my proposal to agents in hopes that one will pick it up. If you are my friend at all you know that I chose July 31st because it’s Harry Potter’s birthday, and I fully believe in magic.

Also because my deadline to finish the proposal happens to fall the day before.

If an agent likes my book, he/she will try to find a publisher to pick it up. Then I will continue the process of actually writing the book. So far, I have written five sample chapters. I may share one or two of them with you throughout the process if you’re interested.

So, here’s how you can help me make this little dream a reality. In order to get picked up by an agent, I’ve been told by a consultant I need to grow my platform. That means they want to see that people are actually interested in reading my words. You can be a HUGE part of this by doing the following 3 things:

1. Sign up for my email list right here.

If you’ve already signed up, send this link to your friends/family who you think might enjoy my writing. This is the biggest way you can help get this book published.

2. Join my new Facebook community, The Imperfectionists. This is where I will share my blog posts, along with content from other writers, speakers, podcasters, etc. that I find uplifting. My hope is that this will be a community where anyone who joins can share content, so we can all encourage each other to give ourselves grace and acceptance. We’re all out here doing the best that we can, so let’s support each other.

3. Follow me on Instagram and Twitter @onemooreemily. I share a good bit of content on these accounts as well and would love to connect with you!

So that’s it. 

That’s my plan.

I’ll keep you guys posted as major developments come along, but as I mentioned, it can be a slow process. Thanks to those of you who have already supported my writing endeavors. You guys make this fun! And to those who haven’t, well you’re probably not reading this anyway, so – as you were.

It's ok to ask for help

My husband called me today to tell me that Kate Spade passed away.

I didn't know much about Kate until I listened to an episode of NPR's "How I Built This" that featured her a few months ago. I couldn't stop talking about the episode and how she seemed like such a down-to-earth, hardworking, genuinely incredible person. Her story is one of inspiration and dedication. It made you want to be happy for her. And be friends with her.

I was really sad when he told me she died, but then he said "Yeah, apparently she committed suicide."

"What?" I said into the phone. "That can't be right."

"Yeah, everyone's reporting it." he responded.

I still didn't believe him until I got online and saw all of the headlines for myself. 

Why would someone like Kate Spade take her own life? In her interview she seemed truly at peace with where she was – content and satisfied. She even made light-hearted jokes and laughed with the host. She talked about her love for her husband and business partner and their little girl. She was a happy and successful woman, but on the inside she was dying. And no one knew.

I wanted to write a few words about this today because I think it's important. 

I started going to counseling almost a year ago. I probably should have gone sooner, but I told myself I didn't need counseling. That normal people like me didn't go to counseling. That only people with real problems attended counseling. 

But those are all lies.

We shouldn't have to be embarrassed to ask for help. We shouldn't be ashamed to admit that we don't have it all figured out. That we're not happy all of the time. That sometimes we get really sad. Or anxious. Or frustrated. Or lonely. Or lost. 

Or maybe sometimes we just need someone to talk to. Someone to help us navigate emotions we don't really know how to deal with. To help us figure out what's healthy for us. What makes us feel whole.

When I started going to counseling, I was terrified to tell anyone. For a long time, my husband was the only person who knew. But then I gradually told one friend. And then another. And another. And now, even though I still blush each time I tell a new person, I'm mostly open about my experience.

But I know there are people who aren't. I know there are people who would rather you catch them robbing a bank than see them walking into therapy.

I don't know why, but I know it's humiliating for most of us to admit that we need help sometimes. We think everyone else is fine. We think that seeing a therapist means we must be really messed up. But it doesn't. It means we're humans. With feelings and emotions and imperfections. 

So if you're struggling or hurting or lonely or confused or just need someone to talk to, today I want to tell you it's ok to ask for help. It doesn't mean you're crazy. It doesn't mean you have something wrong with you. It doesn't mean you're broken. It just means you are a person. 

And that's ok.

It's Not About The Climb; The Climb Sucks Sometimes

Every time I get back from visiting a new place, people ask me “How was your trip?” I am not good at this question. I know most of the time they are being polite, and I am expected to say, “It was great, thanks for asking.” But this is not what happens.

What usually happens is my eyes get ginormous, and I begin to describe various parts of the trip in great detail, in no particular order. If you ask me how my trip was, I’ll tell you about what I saw or thought I would see but didn’t. How the weather was better or worse than expected. How many hours we stayed awake in a row on our flight there. I’ll try to describe the interesting people I met. Teach you something new that I learned. Tell you the strangest food I tried. Show you a picture of the Airbnb we stayed in. And inevitably, I’ll end up attempting to explain how the place made me feel, because that’s what I’ll remember most clearly and permanently.

Our most recent trip was no different. Two weeks ago Tyler and I set out for California. We spent a quick weekend in Los Angeles before departing for Yosemite with 10 other people in a giant, black van with tinted windows and plenty of storage space. We looked like a rock band on a very remote tour as we rolled into the national park.

One of my very best friends in the world, Brooke, was turning 30 that week. She wanted to celebrate this milestone in Yosemite surrounded by people she loved. So 12 of us traveled from various parts of the country to help Brooke ring in the year of 30, which in my opinion truly speaks to the impact she is making in this world.

Also, she's a fantastic photographer, so I used her pictures from the trip instead of mine. 

After traveling all day, we arrived at the park late Monday, tumbling out of our tour van like kids on the first day of school. We settled in to our yurts, which if you’ve never stayed in, I highly recommend, particularly if you want to feel like you are camping but still get to sleep in a bed.

Tuesday was our first full day in Yosemite, and due to some confusion on exactly how difficult it would be, we decided to start our adventure by tackling the biggest hike of the week: All the way up and all the way down Yosemite Falls. We later learned that this is the highest waterfall in North America, but Tuesday morning, our naive bunch set out on the trail, ready for a beginner-level trek, oblivious to the possibility that this might be more difficult than predicted.

Within the first hour we had already shed our top layer of clothes, reapplied sunscreen twice, drank a large percentage of the water we were carrying on our backs and had a close encounter with a rattlesnake. We were told the hike would take approximately eight hours, and we were starting to realize how long those eight hours would be.

Another hour and a half in, I’m not sure which was louder: the growls coming from our stomachs or the screams coming from our leg muscles. Either way, it was a good time to stop for lunch, especially since we had just stumbled upon the most quintessential place to eat our soggy sandwiches and trail mix, just beneath the coolness of the falls.

It was really difficult to put my bag on my back again and walk out of the shade after sitting on a tree limb, enjoying the gentle mist for 20 minutes or so, but we did not start this hike to make it to the lunch spot – we started it with plans to go all the way to the top – so onward we went.

It was even hotter and somehow my bag felt heavier after lunch, but the higher we climbed, the more the anticipation to make it to the top danced around inside of my stomach. Every time we came to a turn, I just knew I would see the top of the mountain, but I was repeatedly let down by more rocks to trip over, more streams to splash through and more distance between me and my destination.

But the higher we climbed, the more the excitement grew. It was like with every mile-marker we passed, I was more and more confident we were actually going to make it the entire way. We were really doing it.

And the views along the way didn’t suck either.

Finally, nearly five hours in, we made the final turn, and all I could see was sky. Bright blue sky that extended on forever. There were no more turns. No more giant, jagged rocks. No more “almost theres”. No more “just let me stop to wipe the sweat out my eyes.” No more “need to put a bandaid on my blisters.” No more “where’s the rest of the group?” No more “I think I’m chafing.” No more “yep, definitely chafing.” We made it.

And as I stood (sat) on top of that mountain, water rushing down beside me like a force to be reckoned with, I felt so tiny. It was truly difficult for my mind to comprehend the vastness and power of the mountains and trees and waterfalls surrounding me. They were so big. So majestic. So terrifyingly dangerous, but at the same time so full of grace and beauty. 

They reminded me how small I am. How minuscule my entire life is. Tiny, but not insignificant. The decisions I make and the life I live matters, but if I make a mistake or “fail” by my own standards, these giant mountains and trees and waterfalls will keep existing just the same. Carrying on with a magnificent steadiness, reminding all of us that the world does not revolve around us. And even if we miss a beat, remarkable things are still taking place. It’s not our responsibility to get it right every time. We have the freedom to fail. And the freedom to rest. And the freedom to let it be out of our hands.

I’ve heard several quotes alluding to the idea that it’s not about the destination, but the journey. After hiking Yosemite Falls on that Tuesday, I don’t think that’s true. I think sometimes the destination is breathtakingly beautiful and the journey is painful and hard and kind of sucks. More than either of these, I think it’s about proving to yourself that you can do it. About being brave and pushing through when all you want to do is quit. Convincing yourself to hike just one more mile. Because if you can make it one more, I bet you can make it another. 

And another. 

And another.

So go one more mile. Write one more chapter. Do one more workout. Lead one more meeting. Create one more design. Build one more fort with your kids. Host one more dinner party. Go to one more therapy session. Speak up about one more idea. 

It’s ok if you need to stop and take a break. In fact, it’s encouraged. The mountains and trees and waterfalls will continue to exist if you pause. So will your career, your dreams, and the people you love most. But if it’s something you believe is right, don’t quit just because it’s difficult. We don’t do the things because they’re easy; we do them because of how we feel when we’ve accomplished something that truly matters.

We are all the Bearded Lady

I know I am so late to this party, but you guys, I watched The Greatest Showman and am fairly certain it actually changed my life. 

If you haven’t seen it, finish reading this post, and then immediately go watch it. We rented it on Prime, but I believe it comes out on DVD this week. And let me go ahead and say, you’re going to want to buy the soundtrack as well. 

I cried approximately 97 different times during this movie. (Not to sound dramatic or anything) 

But there is one scene I will never get over.

I’m going to describe the scene, but if you haven’t seen the movie I don’t think it will take away from your experience or ruin any major moments in the plot. 

The movie is obviously about P.T. Barnum’s journey during the birth of show business. There’s one point about halfway through the movie where ole P.T. gets too caught up in chasing success and money and approval, and he makes some poor decisions concerning his circus friends. 

The circus friends, specifically the bad-A bearded lady, feel like P.T. is ashamed of what others will think of them. Before joining the circus, these performers spent their entire lives hiding who they truly were for fear that people would reject them because they were different. 

The bearded lady (played by the amazingly talented Keala Settle), in particular, has the most gorgeous singing voice, but she never wanted to share it because she was scared that once people saw her beard they would hate her for it. When P.T. tries to hide her from the rich, upper-class crowd he’s trying to impress, she has a moment where she decides she’s no longer going to let her beard keep her in the shadows.

In a beautiful flash of acceptance and confidence, the bearded lady leads the other circus performers in “This is Me,” which is the most moving part of the entire movie. And as I watched her storm through the crowd of pretty, perfect people proudly holding up her chin so that all could see her beard, I realized, I want to be that bearded lady.

I want to be bold and brave and unashamed of the dark and ugly parts of me. We all have them. Whether it’s something that we’ve done or has happened to us in the past or something we struggle with every single day, we all have parts of our stories that we are terrified to share with the room full of seemingly superb, flawless people who appear to have it all together. We can’t let them see who we truly are because they just wouldn’t understand. They would see our “beard” and be filled with disgust – unable to look at us the same, because their imperfections are not quite as beastly as ours. 

The truth is that those pretty, perfect people have messy, secret parts to their story as well, but that’s actually irrelevant. The real reason we love watching the bearded lady walk through the crowd belting out "This is Me" is because we never get to find out how those people responded to her, and to be honest, it doesn’t really matter. The cameras are not focused on the other people; they are focused on the bearded lady. We all are, because the magic of that moment is in her acceptance of herself.

When I think about my struggles and the ugly parts of my story, I often worry whether or not other people will accept them, when the real freedom comes in accepting them myself. In forgiving myself and granting myself permission to be imperfect in a broken and complicated and messy way. 

In that moment which I keep replaying in my head, the bearded lady accepts and loves herself, and that’s why that scene is so powerful. Not because other people embrace who she is, but because she embraces it herself. 

We all want to be ok with our flaws. We all have a desire to be fully known and deeply loved, and that has to start with us accepting our stories as they are, not as we want them to be. We all have parts we’d rather skip over, but those are the parts that make us who we are. We are all flawed. We are all broken. But we all have the ability to be open and honest and brave. To be human. To be known. And to be the bearded lady.

Avoiding Burnout... and Food Poisoning

My husband swears I tried to kill him last week. I think he’s being a teensy bit dramatic, but I did make him sick – I’ll give him that.

The past few weeks have been crazy busy. It’s just one of those seasons, I guess. We haven’t been home much at all, including last weekend, so Sunday night when it came time for dinner I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d gone to the grocery store. I looked in the refrigerator and found some ground turkey meat and spaghetti squash I had planned to make the week before but never got around to. The meat was expired, but I figured it was fine. (You can already tell how this is going to end.)

I cooked the turkey and it had a bit of a smell to it, but I was just way too tired to think about going to the store and at this point I had already cut up and baked the spaghetti squash, so there really wasn’t an option to turn back.

Tyler walked into the kitchen as I was finishing up and sniffed a few times. “What’s that smell?” he asked. 

“I think it’s the meat,” I said. “It’s a little expired, but it should be fine.”

He made an “are you kidding me, this is a terrible idea” face, but fixed his plate and sat down at the table to eat anyway. 

We both ate it. It honestly didn’t taste terrible. Not great, but also not like it was going to kill us. Somewhere in the middle. 

All was quiet until around midnight when Tyler woke me up and told me he felt sick. I figured he was just being whiney. A few minutes later, he got up, ran to the bathroom and began throwing up spaghetti squash and spoiled turkey meat. 

Ooops.

I immediately ran to the bathroom to rub his back and just be there with him because I knew this was all my fault. He continued to puke several more times during the night and had to call in sick to work on Monday. I, on the other hand, was totally fine.

At first, anyway.

When my alarm went off, I got up and went straight to the store and got my food-poisoned husband some crackers, soup and Sprite. Partially because I am a good wife, but mostly because I felt guilty. 

I set everything by the bed for him, along with some medicine and a little trash bin to vomit in, and went to my office to work. I got a few things done and then decided to go for a run. I felt a little nauseous, but I figured it was due to the fact that I had been up with Tyler all night. 

I was wrong.

I had to stop my run a couple of miles in because I started feeling so sick and weak, I could barely walk. I made it back home and got horribly sick. Freaking spaghetti squash. 

I crawled in bed with Tyler, and we spent the rest of the day passing the medicine, Sprite and puke can between the two of us. It was a little bit sweet, but mostly just disgusting. 

The following day, we were feeling better, and he called from work on his lunch break. “You tried to kill me,” he said, “but you’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

(Insert eye-roll emoji)

While I did not, in fact, try to kill him, I probably should have utilized common sense and not cooked meat that had been expired for a number of days I’m not prepared to admit in this post. 

In busy seasons, we tend to put everything else above our own needs. We go go go and do do do and bump our own personal errands (like going to the grocery store) farther and farther down the to-do list. If you’re like me, you also bump down things like rest and play: two vital components to a happy life. 

But it’s important to rest, and it’s important to play, and it’s important to go to the grocery store and not cook spoiled meat. These are all necessary to avoid burnout. Burnout in your work, in your relationships and just in the day to day madness that life throws your way.

Burnout is very real, and it threatens our productivity, our creativity, our peace of mind and worst of all our general happiness. In a world where we are expected to keep working even after we “leave work,” where we get emails to our phones 24 hours a day and where we see how seemingly perfect everyone else’s lives appear to be on social media, it’s easy to work ourselves until we hit a wall. And when we hit the wall, it hurts. 

I don’t want you to hit the wall. Or maybe just hit it as few times as possible. So I’ve put together a list of 3 ways to avoid burnout that I think you’ll find helpful. Oh, and I promise it will be more insightful than “try not to die from food poisoning.” 

If you’ve signed up for my email list, my strategy to avoid burnout is sitting in your inbox (or your spam folder if haven’t moved me over yet). If you haven’t signed up for my email list and would like to receive this burnout-avoiding strategy (plus other cool stuff), you can do so below.

I would also like to let you know about a 30-day self care challenge I am putting together. Starting in April, I'll email you once a week and challenge you with seven unique ways to press pause and take care of yourself that week, ideally one a day. I've learned it's much easier to spread love to others (and not give anyone food poisoning) when you are taking proper care of yourself. Click here to get more information on the self-care challenge or to sign up. 

Being Boss: Q & A with Being Boss Podcast Hosts, Kathleen Shannon & Emily Thompson

Being Boss is a top-ranked business podcast listened to by thousands of entrepreneurs and creatives each week. Also, it’s my favorite.

Kathleen Shannon and Emily Thompson interview some of the top names in business and cover topics ranging from finances and business planning to creativity and self-care. Some of their guests include Brene` Brown (queen of vulnerability), Chris Guillebeau (king of side hustle), Melissa Hartwig (co-creator of Whole30) and so many more. 

I was most excited to talk to them about self-care, a topic I’ve been intrigued by lately. So many of us spend our days plowing through to-do lists and focusing on all the tasks we have to get done, that we rarely take time to take proper care of ourselves – emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually. 

I’m putting together a 30-day self-care challenge that’s kicking off the first week of April. I’ll send you a list of 30 ways to take care of yourself, and we’ll try to do one a day for 30 days straight. Click below to sign up for the challenge!

Back to Being Boss: Kathleen and Emily’s first book, Being Boss, is coming out in April, and I absolutely cannot wait to read it. I had the opportunity to interview them about their book, the podcast and just all the things. Here’s what they had to say:

What inspired you to write the Being Boss book?

We started our podcast Being Boss three years ago and the honest conversations we were having about what it takes to launch and sustain a creative business really seemed to resonate with our listeners who wanted to hear the real deal! A couple years, over a hundred episodes, and millions of downloads later we had a hunch that a book might be in us as well. We took it as a sign when an agent who ended up being a perfect fit reached out to us to ask if we had considered taking our podcast to the publishing world.

Can readers expect to find anything in the book they haven't heard in the podcast? Or is it more a culmination of what we hear in your episodes?

If you’ve listened to every single podcast (high five!) then you’ve probably heard us share a lot of what is in the book at one point or another. Our goal was to concisely share our entrepreneurial stories alongside our very best advice, worksheets, and exercises around cultivating confidence, getting in the boss mindset, creating productive boundaries, establishing supporting habits and routines, and blending work and life in a way that feels balanced. 

Some of our most dedicated listeners who have received advanced copies of the book have said that they’re grateful to have or best nuggets all in one place (while still sounding like us!).

I see that you write about self-care in the book. Why is self-care so important for entrepreneurs?

Self-care is definitely having a big moment in the creative entrepreneur space. When we see people feeding their animals better than they feed themselves – or giving their cars more love than their own bodies … that’s a problem! It can be easy to put your body, mind, and spirit on the back burner when you have deadlines to meet and adult obligations (like dishes, bills, and laundry) to tend to. But what’s the point of meeting all your goals and checking off all your to-dos if you feel terrible? In a world that is trying to sell us stuff on making us feel less-than, self-care is designed to make us feel like we’re enough.  

Why do you think entrepreneurs have such a hard time listening to their own needs?

As entrepreneurs we are solely responsible for our businesses. Our days are filled with making decisions, taking risks, and grinding it out. There’s often not a lot of space leftover to think about what we need when we’re tending to what the business needs in order to be successful. It comes down to priorities not being aligned with long-term goals, and that’s one of the things we’ve tackled in our book in a way we haven’t been able to in the podcast.

I read that part of the book is about mapping out your goals. What do you think is the best way to stay focused on your primary goals?

Our favorite way to stay focused is with the Chalkboard Method® – we’ve talked about this visual goal-setting tool on our podcast and wanted to make sure it was in the book too. The idea is to make space for what you want and to make it visual. It’s equal parts accountability to do the work and a little bit of manifesting magic.

On your podcast, you talk a lot about how your business can blend into your life in a healthy way. Do you talk about this in the book? Why is this so important to you?

It’s as simple as this: when you don’t fragment who you are and bring your whole self to the work you do – especially when it comes to what you value and what you intend that work to do in the world – you will be more creatively fulfilled and the work you make will resonate and make a positive impact on those it touches. 

Also, the work you do is taking up a big chunk of your life – so it should matter to you personally! 

So yes, the idea of blending who you are into the work you do is a theme that carries through the entire book.

What would your advice be to someone who feels stuck in their current career? 

You have a few options: 

    1.    You could start a side-hustle or take a course in something that sparks your creative interest and begins to move you forward in a direction that feels fulfilling.

    2.    You could find a day job or internship where you can learn more about what you actually want to be doing

    3.    Ask for what you want – whether that’s a raise or to initiate a special project that piques your interest – you can do a lot to get unstuck where you already are

You ask your guests at the end of each episode what makes them feel most boss. I'd love to hear your own answers to this question.

Kathleen: I feel most boss when I’m meeting with my team to vision out our goals and big ideas and then break those down into tasks that eventually take us step-by-step to see our dreams realized. For example, writing a book didn’t happen overnight. It took almost TWO years of little steps to get there and it’s a total dream to now see it in print (and hopefully on a best seller list!) 

Emily: I feel most boss when I walk away from work to live my life, knowing that it’s all still running and getting done. We’ve built something that has grown so much bigger than us, and the structures that hold it up give me the freedom to live my life on my own terms, whether that’s taking long lunch breaks with my family or enjoying mid-day yoga sessions. This makes me feel most like I’m doing it right, not to mention the fact that what we’ve built affords everyone on our team the exact same freedoms. Boss bliss.

Being Boss hits the shelves April 10, but you can pre-order it now and even get some free swag for ordering it early. Sign up for my email list to get pre-order details right to your inbox.

International Women's Day is Important

Today is International Women’s Day, and today is important. 

A few years ago, when Twitter made me aware that this day existed, I took some time to reflect on all the amazing women in my life, and it has become an annual tradition. Some of them I know personally. Some of them I admire for their work. And some of them I simply adore for the legacies they’ve left behind.

These women are mothers. They are sisters and daughters and grandmothers and granddaughters. They are aunts and nieces and cousins. They are wives and friends and dog-moms. They are bosses and employees and students. They are doctors and nurses and photographers and engineers. They are writers and business owners and counselors and pilots and teachers and designers and activists.

These women are dreamers and doers. They are thinkers and sayers and challengers and questioners. They are creative and analytical and intelligent and adventurous. 

These women have started companies, created masterpieces, raised children, solved problems and fought battles, some that we may never know about.

They work in offices and clinics and schools and newsrooms and coffee shops. 

They challenge me to be better. To do more and sometimes to do less. To think deeper, to love bigger, to remember and at times to choose to forget. To ask the hard questions and speak the difficult truths. To be vulnerable and real and honest and open. 

They encourage me to love and take care of myself. To rest and to run and to play and to dance. To be silly and to chase dreams and to try new things. They show up and they answer the phone. They let me know it’s ok to cry sometimes. It’s ok to fail and to start over and to quit and to take a nap.

We’ve shared cups of coffee and glasses of wine. We’ve gone on road trips and gotten lost and found our way again. We’ve read books and shared ideas and argued and agreed and supported each other. They’ve held my hand through difficult seasons and jumped up and down and flailed their arms during the exciting times. They are the ones who talked me out of terrible ideas and gave me the courage to pursue good ones. 

Most importantly, these women have inspired me to be brave. To say words that need to be said and do things that need to be done. To listen to the voice inside of me that tells me what’s right and to fearlessly chase after it.

I am thankful for these women. The ones who do the things. It gives me hope for all the little girls out there with dreams and fears and imaginations and ambitions. They’re going to be ok. Let’s be women they can look up to. Let’s teach them to be strong and smart and silly and brave. Because the world needs them. It needs their ideas and their questions and their courage.

And it needs yours too.

The Trouble With Being Still

I have never been hunting. I grew up in Mississippi, where hunting is like a big thing, but I never made it out into the woods. 

When I was younger I begged my dad and brother to let me go with them. My dad never took me. He said I would talk too much in the deer stand and that when it came time to actually kill the deer, he was quite certain I would not be happy with what I saw. 

For most of my childhood I tried to prove him wrong, but it never happened. 

Recently, a friend invited my husband to his hunting camp for the weekend and said I could come too. A nice, quiet weekend tucked away in a remote cabin in the woods sounded appealing, so I agreed to tag along.

We got there Friday afternoon and suited up to hit the woods. I don’t own any camouflage, so I had to borrow some of Tyler’s. I put on his oversized shirt and puffy jacket, along with pants that had to be held up by a belt. He told me to wear boots, but not my nice boots because we would be trudging through mud to get to the stand, so the only remaining option were my bright red rain boots. I tucked them under my pants and was ready to go. I looked like a little kid playing dress-up. 

We hopped on the back of a four-wheeler, and a man drove us to our stand. As he hit the gas, he looked back and said “I hope you don’t mind a little drunk driving,” and shook his Yeti tumbler in my face. I was certain we were going to die.

By the grace of God, we made it to our deer stand. It had a cute name, but I can’t remember it. The hunters at the camp give names to all the deer stands, which I just think is adorable. 

I was giddy as Tyler and I climbed up into our stand. “This is going to be so fun!” I exclaimed. 

“Shhhhhhhhhhh” followed by an ‘are you an idiot’ glare was my husband’s response.

“You can’t talk in the deer stand. You’ll scare them all away.”

“I doubt they can hear me whisp-“

He stopped me before I could even finish my sentence. 

“Yes, they can. We have to sit down and be still and quiet.”

Oh.

Ok.

Maybe this wasn’t going to be as fun as I had anticipated. 

We stared at a bunch of trees and some dead grass in silence for about 30 minutes. That may not sound like a long time to you, but I can’t recall the last time I sat in silence doing absolutely nothing for 30 minutes. If I had to guess, I'd say it was when I was a kid playing hide-and-seek and the other kids forgot to tell me the game was over. 

I intentionally put my phone away and tried really hard to channel my inner outdoorsy side and be one with nature.

It was terrible. I looked at my watch every 90 seconds, feeling like a minimum of 20 minutes should have passed. I kept looking at Tyler and opening my mouth to say something, only to see him shake his head no. I wanted to go back to the cabin.

That first half hour was tough, but we continued to sit for about two hours, and the longer we sat, the more the silence grew on me. And I realized it was kind of nice not to hear the ding of my phone from emails or text messages. And I kind of enjoyed the fact that I couldn’t edit a video or work on a social media strategy or respond to emails. I just had to sit and there was nothing I could do about it. I had the freedom to do nothing. And I discovered it was rare and beautiful and very much needed.

Soon after we passed the two-hour mark, Tyler elbowed me in the side and pointed just off to our right. A little doe was making her way through the field. I got so excited and started fidgeting and moving around. Tyler had to signal for me to calm it down a few notches. We had been sitting for so long in the nothingness, that I had nearly forgotten we were looking for deer.

No more than a minute later, another deer wandered out. And then another. Before long there were about 10 deer right in front of us. Since Tyler had to move around a little to get his gun in place, I took this opportunity to make a little noise myself and got my camera out to take some video. The deer were graceful and pure, and I was mesmerized. 

I had been enjoying the view for about 10 minutes, when Tyler whispered “Ok, I’m about to shoot one of them.”

WHAT

They were so elegant and fascinating. How could he just "shoot one of them"? 

“Cover your ears,” he warned and he fired a shot. A doe went down and the other deer quickly scattered.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Let’s go see her,” he said. He was so excited. So proud.

My eyes filled with tears. My dad was in fact, correct, all those years ago. I did not like hunting.

I did end up going back out with Tyler the following day, and really embraced sitting in the quiet stillness of the woods. He did not shoot anything on day 2, so it was much more enjoyable and far less bloody.

There is something significant about sitting in silence and not doing anything. For me, it took not having the option to do all the things in order to fully appreciate the quiet and calm. But I did appreciate it. And I’ve been trying to make a point to do that more often. To just be still. And quiet. And turn my brain off. 

It’s not easy. I am in a season of life, where things are just busy. All the time. And I’m having to hustle a bit more than usual, because when you start your own business, you can’t exactly sit in silence and do yoga all day long. 

But I’m learning it’s good to rest every now and then. Not only is it good, but it is important. I’m sure you, like me, are busy. And you may have trouble turning your brain off. While I don’t recommend hunting as a calming activity due to what happens at the end, I would like to encourage you to take time to rest. And to be still. And quiet. And turn off your phone and laptop. And quit being productive, just for a little while. It’s hard to make yourself stop, but your body and mind will thank you if you do. 

We All Have Bad Days

Someone recently asked me if I ever have bad days. I thought it was a ridiculous question. 

“Of course I have bad days,” I responded. “Everyone has bad days.”

She shrugged her shoulders and said, “I don’t know you just seem happy all the time, and you’re always going interesting places or doing cool things. Just doesn’t seem like you ever have a bad day.”

This is preposterous. I’ll share some thoughts on it in just a bit, but today has actually not been a very good day, so I want to take a minute and tell you about it. 

Today has been a bad day. I slept through my alarm and woke up an hour later than intended, which instantly put me behind on my schedule and feeling like a failure. I went to the gym, not because I wanted to or because I thought it would be mentally relaxing, but because I felt like I had to because I didn’t eat healthy enough the previous day, according to the absurd standards I had internally set for myself.

I didn’t have a good workout, probably due to the fact that I didn’t want to be there or just because it’s one of those days where you just don’t seem to have any natural energy. This added to that whole “feeling like a failure” thing.

I came home and tried to get some work done. Mondays are [typically] my most productive days. I [usually] love Mondays. The entire week lies ahead, full of potential for productivity and growth and new ideas and adventures, but not this Monday. This Monday I struggled to get anything done. Part of this could be attributed to the fact that I have multiple projects going on at the same time, so it makes it difficult to fully focus on one without feeling like am neglecting another. Or it could be because my Nana, with whom I am very close (you may remember I blogged about our road trip to Disney World in the fall), was diagnosed with cancer last week, and all I actually want to do right now is spend time with her and plan our trip to see the Northern Lights like she has always dreamed. 

So no, today has not been a good day. It has been bad. Not for any one reason in particular, not just super, ultra-horrifyingly awful – just bad.

But as Judith Viorst says in my favorite children’s book of all time, “It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Some days are like that.”

Tomorrow might be better. Or it might not. We all have days that are better or worse than others. I think what helps me on the bad days is gratitude. To remember all the things I have to be thankful for.  

Yes, I overslept, but I didn’t have any important meetings this morning, and I got to wake up to pursue a career that I love. 

Yes, I had a had a poor workout, but I have a body that is capable of running all the miles I please, and most days those runs serve as a calming mental break. 

Yes, I felt overwhelmed and anxious, but I have projects that clients have hired me to do because they believe in this little company of mine. 

Yes, my Nana has cancer. That’s the hardest one to write. 

But she’s still here, and we’ve still got time to go see the Northern Lights. 

Yes, it’s been a bad day, but I have so much to be grateful for. And I’m pretty sure you do too if you stop and think about it. 

So let’s just call it what it is. It’s a bad day. I feel defeated, overwhelmed and a little frustrated at the lack of control I have over external circumstances. I am not traveling the world or climbing a mountain or playing in snow or running a marathon. I am just sitting at my desk trying to work on four projects at the same time, and it's not happening.

It’s just a bad day. Not a bad year or a bad month or even a bad week. Just a bad day. And I’m writing about it, so that amidst the exhilarating highlights of my Instagram feed, you will know that bad days happen sometimes too. To all of us. Probably even Beyonce`.

And that’s totally ok.

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.