Disappointment, Party Hats, and Nasal Spray

After fighting it off the whole weekend, I woke up this morning and my first thought was, "well, it's official, I'm sick". Here's a fun fact, in case you don't know me in real life, but I don't get sick. Truth. The last time I was sick was November of 2012 (it's so infrequent that I know dates off-hand). Cue the soup and the pity party of one. See, after a relatively low-key last week, I finally had about five days worth of awesome planned and I was excited.

An hour from now, I'm supposed to be joining a friend at a movie that he's lent his voice talents to, to celebrate and support a massive achievement of someone I love.

This week, I've got auditions, class, clients, and I'm scheduled to shoot my next acting gig on Wednesday. (If you're an actor, you know booking a gig is a big deal and to potentially miss it can be heartbreaking.)

And instead of these kick-ass life plans, I'm holed up in bed with netflix, soup, goldfish crackers, and nasal spray? Not cool. Needless to say, I'm disappointed.

But on my way back from the pharmacy, right before tears could make their way into my eyes, I felt like God was telling me that I need to rest up, because what's on it's way to me is even bigger, even more awesome, than the things I'm most likely going to miss this week. Instead of lingering on what I may miss, I'd rather keep my eyes fixed on the incredible possibilities that may happen. The things I just don't know about yet.

More over, I immediately found myself trusting that I'm being protected from something. What if, say, on the way to one of these planned activities, there would have been a terrible accident? Or perhaps I would have run into someone I didn't want to see, or cross paths with someone horribly upsetting. What if I'm being kept in my bed to keep me out of harm's way? What if all the times we're certain we're missing out on something, we're actually being guided safely to something even better?

And it does not go without saying, that if one considers all the things others are facing at the moment, health wise and otherwise, that one's itty bitty sickness that one faces every two years or so, well, it ain't no thing. Let me praise this illness in that it's the only one I have to face.

We simply do not have any idea what is going to happen or why something is happening. The best we can do is look it in the eye and immediately start to give thanks for it, allowing it to shape into something that's for our benefit.

If you're feeling disappointed about something right now, I hope you can find some comfort in these words. We are going to be let down by our bodies, by the people we love, and by our own expectations about how life should go. There's no avoiding that. But maybe, just maybe, we also get to decide if it's something to be bummed about or something to celebrate. I don't know about you, but I'm reaching for the streamers and glitter over here.

Plus, if you're already in party mode then you'll be all set to keep celebrating as the next wonderful thing rolls in. Party hats on, friends. And take care of yourself, would you?

p.s. make sure to enter my giveaway on instagram! you'll be entered to win something awesome from Compliment. enter now thru 9/30 at midnight EST!

Lessons in Listening and Soup

I've been speaking with a client about a potential move lately. There's really no "reason" for her to spend time in another place, and many are quick to point that out. There's really no "reason" for her to leave where she is, and many are quick to point that out. There's also no "reasonable" way any city could be better than the one she's currently in.. you know the next line, right?

But what if the fact that she feels the urge to go is exactly the right reason?
What if the annoying nagging voice that tells her to do it is the only reason?
What if just wanting to go is the best reason she could ever have?
What if she just feels called?
What if that's enough?

I can't tell you how many times I'm working with clients who are struggling to make a decision and without fail, each and every time, they already know what they are going to do. They already hold the answer in their hands, like a bowl of soup that makes them feel like they're slightly on fire or hot with desire. Instead of seeing the soup in their hands, they're running around, sloshing soup out the sides of the bowl, trying to figure out why they are suddenly feeling so hot. And with each person they run to and ask what to do, they spill just a bit more soup until all they have left is the bowl and they can't figure out why, why, why they have an empty bowl in their hands, so they put it down to start trying to figure that out and get completely distracted and walk away from it.

Two days later, the whole thing repeats.

Aside from the fact that this is one of the strangest metaphors I've ever written (and also that now I want a bowl of soup), it's exactly what happens to all of us.

Friends, that gently nudging you feel, that soft calling, that idea that dances through your head sixty-five times a year (or day), is enough. Trust that whatever, or whoever, or wherever it is leading you to will have something very important waiting there, just for you. Trust there is something on the other side of that feeling. And that the feeling alone is worth pursuing.

Find the bowl of soup you've been running around with, the answer that is already in your hands, and go. Run as fast as you can toward that calling. Go.

Lessons In Being An Accidental Wedding Guest

I accidentally found myself at a wedding on Saturday evening.

To be fair, this was not entirely my fault. Since it's fashion week here in new york city (there is a post coming on this, friends. oh is there a post coming) I figured the chairs being set up were for an outdoor show. But as I turned the pages of my book and sipped my peach green iced tea and watched guests arrive, I started to put it together.

In the photo above, you'll note I was about four feet behind the third row of chairs. I mean, I was AT this wedding, you know? (As were many other people, including fashion week attendees in full on nyfw garb, and many tourists who took photos of the wedding as though they knew the groom and bride. and yes, okay I took a photo, too, but it was for you guys. So that makes me exempt.) So I'm sitting there, wondering if I should leave, or stay, and wondering why I felt the need to come back to this place at this particular time when I had already been there earlier.

And then it hit me why I was here at this exact time.

This massive declaration of love was about to happen in nearly the exact same spot where my love broke earlier this year. We're talking less than a handful of feet apart. And it hit me in that way where it was being told to me. And I started to laugh: here we go again. More lessons, more growth, more being poured into my soul.

Yet again, I was being told that the massive undoing of me was for a reason. The breaks and cracks were for a reason - so the broken places could be filled back in with light and love and lessons that God knew I needed. He had tried to get them into my thick skull and stubborn self so many times but I pushed right back, refusing them. So He went ahead and used the human that I've learned nearly all of my important lessons through to get these through to me. Of course (well played, God, well played). And let's be clear here: it is not about the other person. Just like the people and situations that are used in your life to teach you things are not the actual issue. It's all about what God is trying to teach you, and your growth on your specific path. I would have never let any of this in if I wasn't first broken down. There was no room for it to get in unless I was cracked open.

The wedding, as it turns out, was actually a renewal ceremony. Which felt even more appropriate for this particular situation in my life, and made me laugh again, as God really does speak directly to us if we're willing to listen. The renewal was for 1.5 years of marriage. Have you heard of anyone doing this? I was thinking 5, maybe 10 years in. But 18 months? And this was already their third ceremony. Before my judgmental little voice could pop up, all I could think was how fucking awesome that is. These people are so in love that they are choosing each other, in public, in front of loved ones, yet again. That's how much they choose the other. And isn't that what it's all about? The choosing, every single day. Picking that person, over and over, even in times where they drive you nuts or hurt you or do stupid things. Knowing that person is choosing you, too. I've spent a lot of time circling the idea that the loving can often be much easier than the choosing. If you love someone with everything you are but you don't understand that you must actively choose them (and yourself), you're cooked. Choosing is the action that makes Love a verb. I choose you. I'm with you. Every day. And friends, this goes beyond relationships. The same thought can be applied to our careers, passions, and callings.

These lessons are coming in layers. In this perfectly timed way that is surely not my doing. There is no way that I could have understood what was being taught to me before this exact moment. My range of responses would have been to hate the couple for choosing someone and being chosen, to judge their intense amount of spending on weddings, to feel annoyed they were interrupting my reading time, or to just ache. But my lessons have been built, one on top of the other, in a way that is very meant. The messages are sometimes very clear and sometimes require a slow unwrapping, but all are equally important in carrying me from one point to the next on this path.

I can't fully sum up in words all of what was put into my being then, but I can start with this:
the places and pieces of you that feel the most pain, will slowly but surely wind their way back to being all about Love. If you let them. If you keep going on with your fingers sticking in your ears singing la-la-la-i-can't-hear-you at the top of your lungs, then it's going to take a hell of a lot longer. But if you stop thinking you know what's best, and let in each layer of healing, regardless if it's something that seems insignificant or something thrown at you like a lavishly grand vow renewal service in the middle of manhattan on a hot september day, you start to recognize they are all intricately designed pieces of a path that is sending you directly back to Love. Go to those literal and metaphorical painful places, and sit in them. Be present in them with your eyes and heart wide open.

Even a place you felt was broken will eventually be covered in Love again, rose petals on the ground, smiles on faces, and the freeing knowledge that the weight of pain can never come close to touching the joy of Love.

Lessons In Loving Yourself (& a 30-day challenge for you!)

This year, unbeknownst to me, God signed me up for a life class in Loving Myself. God's funny like that, He has you enrolled in activities and lessons long before you realize you're in them. Many times you find out you're in them when everything comes crashing down around you. If everything around you feels like it's being destroyed, keep an eye out. It may just be the start of a new class.

Anyway, last February, right after my world went poof and crumbled into pieces, my best friend texted me an image (she's a quiet motivator, that sneaky girl). Those words are above, but let's write it out here, shall we? Great: "The fact that someone else loves you, doesn't rescue you from the project of loving yourself."

That's some good shit, right? And potentially very obvious to some of you, but it wasn't to me. I have this love that is bigger than me, and it seemingly seemed to fill me up fully because it's just so freaking big. I never knew what to do with it, I'm really little and it is much, much bigger than me. And I guess, in a way, loving this person so much allowed me to trick myself into thinking I was loving myself just as much. Spoiler alert: nope. Wasn't. Not even close. It's incredible to have someone love you. But when you don't also love yourself in that gigantic kind of way, it's painful. It creates thoughts like: Why should they love me if I don't? Why does this person love me? When will they find out I'm not worth loving? How long before they leave? That's an ugly place to live, friends. And it's even worse to feel that massive love from another person, to know how much they love you, and not be able to accept it. That is a post for another time, but I will say that two people who love each other so, so much, who both do not love themselves fully, is a really fascinating thing to experience. It's also worth saying that the more I love myself, the bigger my love grows for that person, when I thought it would be the opposite. Turns out, when you think you can't possibly love someone more, you actually can. And that begins with you.

So how do we start? What does loving yourself look like? I know it's not a one-size-fits-all thing but I can tell you that loving myself looks like this:

It's the act of tugging on workout clothes, lacing up my sneakers, and going for a run despite feeling like I'll never really be a runner, that I'm out of shape, and that this is stupid. It's going anyway.

It's allowing myself to sleep in when I need to and loving that my career and lifestyle support that, instead of feeling guilty.

It's making a fresh juice even though cleaning the juicer is sometimes very annoying. And I'd rather have a donut.

It's brushing my teeth at night even though I'm really cozy in my bed already. It's that sigh that comes with plopping my feet on the floor and grabbing my toothbrush.

It's using under eye cream when it, too, is so very far out of reach from my sweet, sweet bed. And doing all the other things that are involved with literally taking care of your self, your being.

It's saying no to plans that don't feel right. It's saying no to people that don't feel right. It's saying no to jobs that don't fit right.

It's cooking a meal for myself and feeling proud that I did it, instead of ordering or microwaving something.

It's about only saying yes to things I can actually commit to, which continues to be really hard for me to do.

Loving myself looks like forgiving myself when I don't do all or any or some of the things I've listed so far. (Sorry teeth, my bed is just so darn comfortable!)

Loving myself looks like talking out loud to myself, telling myself that I'm proud of me, saying "good job" literally out loud, in public, after I do something that's hard or scary or, shit, after just an every day thing because sometimes I need a lot of encouragement and if I'm not celebrating myself, who will?

It looks like dancing and singing in my room, in my kitchen, while on a run, because I love music and it fuels me.

It looks like being M.I.A. in the world on lots of days because building my love for myself, my confidence, and what I am working toward, sometimes takes more than I have, and I have nothing left over. It looks like still choosing to love myself when I do this.

It looks like accepting compliments, without thinking someone is lying, and letting people be nice to me without assuming they want something from me. It looks like being nice back instead of snarky or defensive. This is hard.

It looks like working on being myself instead of being what I know will get more followers, clients, or admirers. Being myself instead of creating a self to present to the world.

It looks like actually working toward my dreams, in a way where I know I'm worthy of them and will achieve them, with confidence. Instead of doing every other possible thing that mostly made me feel like I was sort of doing what I wanted, or would give me some sort of notoriety.

It looks like keeping an eye on what I read, listen to, or watch. This means ditching a lot of my favorite blogs because I realized I was constantly taking in words and images of women who are younger than me and seemingly "further ahead" in life, with husbands and babies and houses and yards. It's about realizing that I can't be in that place because I'm in my own place and it is fucking awesome (and it doesn't include changing diapers so, I mean..). Loving myself means being okay with getting there when and if I get there. End of story.

It looks like painting and reading, because I love painting and reading.

Loving myself looks like putting away the computer and the ipad and the iphone and spending time with the iperson that I am.

It looks like not taking into account what I think people might be thinking about me, and not taking anything personally when said or done to me. It looks like not guessing what someone wants and asking them instead, because guessing and thinking you know best for them can get real tiring and time-sucking, and mama is busy, okay? We do not have time for guessing other people's needs, friends.

Loving myself means looking at the things I assigned to my future, my "adult life", and recognizing that there is no "adult life" there is just life, and it's right now. If I think at some point I'll be the type of person who works out every day, then today is a fine day to start that. Going to church, and not getting totally trashed, and committed relationships, and stretching, and praying, and not eating crap, and taking in art, and doing the things that terrify me, and fully being present in the moment are not things to wait on and assume I'll master at some point because, like, don't people do that? No, it's about identifying and going after the things I want in my life right now. I will not wake up one day and have magically mastered any of those things, but I will if I practice them daily and start before I'm "ready" or before I feel old enough (I'll probably always feel like a little kid, so no point in waiting).

There's much more, as we all know. But these things stand out to me. I can vividly remember being absolutely certain that I loved myself, that my happiness was a totally inside job, that I really was going after what I wanted. No I wasn't, no it wasn't, no I wasn't. I'm sure these will continue to grow. I'm sure I'll look back at this time and think "shoot, you thought you knew something about happiness, you had no idea". And that's really beautiful, this growth that we get to experience.

So what about you? What does Loving Yourself look like to you? To help you get going, I've created 30 days worth of ways to Love Yourself. Play along by posting on your own blog or instagram account, and share the link here, or on my instagram. Use the hashtag #30LovingDays. Join in! xo

so, you in, or what? :) #30lovingdays

Lessons In Leaving Facebook

Out of all the "crazy" decisions I've made lately (and Lord help me, there have been many), the one that seems to really shock people is when I utter the following words. You ready? Sitting down?

"I deleted my facebook."

While there is a fair amount of shock, the most common reaction I've gotten is intrigue. The person I'm speaking with gets a glimmer of excitement in their eye, moves in a bit closer, and asks me what it's like, why did I do it, and other questions that could easily make a passerby assume we're talking about something truly illicit. 

So what have I learned from this little experiment in the past few weeks? Many things, but here are my top five for your reading pleasure:

1. My confidence level has massively increased. This is the one I really didn't see coming. To be fair, my confidence is increasing from a handful of other tactics, and just, I think, as a result of the place of life I'm in. Facebook allows us to see what everyone else we know, or sort of know, or maybe once met, is up to. Thus allowing us to compare where we're at to where we're inferring they are at. Except, as we all know, everyone puts their best social media foot forward. I'm guilty of this myself. Without the ability to scroll through my newsfeed, obsessing over every career, relationship and life success, I'm able to get back to focusing on what I'm up to and feeling good about it. Thus, confidence.

2. I'm reading books and plays. Last year, I read approximately 1.5 books in total. In the past three weeks, I've read 4 books and 3 plays. As it turns out, I really love reading. I have this vague memory of loving to read for, you know, my entire life but reading my social media somehow started to take the place of reading. Oh and puzzles! You guys, doing puzzles is so fun. I like to call it "puzzling", as in "oh I'm just over here, not on facebook, puzzling away".

3. People are calling and writing to tell me things, to share things that are important to them, or invite me to do something. Without facebook, they can't just write on my wall or send me a message. Having to take actual time out of one's day to spend time communicating with people that matter to you is important. Making an effort in one's relationships matter. Facebook allowed me to be lazy about this, and in turn, made it okay for everyone else to contact me in the same manner. There's a real thrill in hearing someone call to tell me something exciting that's happening in their lives, and one that's missed when it comes via social media.

4. I'm using my computer way less. If you know me in real life, you know I've basically been attached to my laptop for the past full year. Apparently, there's some sort of connection for me with checking facebook and using my computer. Like checking my social media became my version of taking a break, except, as you probably know, that ain't no break. Also, without that pesky comparison, I don't feel a heightened sense of need to go accomplish yet another thing for that day. I can take an actual break, and go sit outside with one of those fancy books I like so much.

5. I'm more relaxed, happier, no longer feel lonely all the time, and am much more engaged in my own life and experiences. When something exciting would happen to me, even just a really cool day, I liked to share it on facebook. In a weird way, it allowed me to affirm that things really are moving forward and happening in my life. If I wrote it down, or other people acknowledged it by reading, liking or commenting on it, then it was real. Now I get to just enjoy the experiences of my life as I'm experiencing them. I decide what they mean and how I feel about them, and I don't necessarily weigh them as meaning something, but just something to enjoy. I take time to just be (again: books! who knew?) and relaxing doesn't mean I'm laying down while still working, it means I'm actually relaxing. I'm not having to see random news stories, political opinions, or scary images that would be all over my newsfeed so my stress level stays lower. I'm happier in general but removing facebook has upped that even more.

To be fair, I did not delete facebook, but deactivated it. This means I can return at any time and it will be as though I never left, all things exactly as they were. FB is straight up creepy when you leave it. First, you have to tell them why, then they send you five photos of friends, noting that "Katie" will really miss you on facebook, and so on. Then they tell you roughly 60 times that you can come back at any time. Then they send emails. I'm like, "facebook, I get it, you don't want me to go, but I really need a little time apart".

Due to work obligations, I needed to be able to access two pages. I created a work account, using a different email and different last name, yet when I logged on to that account, my entire newsfeed was filled with posts from friends on my now deactivated account. People who I was not 'friends' with on this account (I have zero friends on it) and would not know their information was showing up on my newsfeed. CREEPY! Eek.

I will be re-activating my account at some point. I like to have it for industry connections and opportunities, not to mention the fact that I run my own business and social media accounts for other people. In short, I currently do have a need for the networking opportunities, however I do not "need" it. And neither do you. When I return, I plan to keep my work account active and use that during the week, only using my personal account once a week. Will I be able to do it? Who knows, but I hope.

What about you? Would you ever leave The Book? Do you think any of these changes would happen in your life? Share please :)

Lessons In Patience; Or, How I Learned To Surrender At The Post Office

As soon as I put their leashes on, I started to doubt this idea. There was no way they'd make it the whole way, there was no way I could carry the mail and navigate my criss-crossing, zooming pups at the same time, and it was just dumb.

All of those negative thoughts meant one thing: I absolutely had to do it.

We had a typical start with Henry trying to partake in a sprinting competition that no one else knew was going on, and Layla trying to (literally) smell all the flowers along the journey of life, and me looking like I was about to be drawn and quartered the old fashioned way (is there a new way? not sure why I included old fashioned there..) with my left arm pulling as far as it can go to the left and the right arm pulling as far as it can go to the right, and the quiet whisper of the word 'help' escaping from my lips.

We had finally made it around the corner and I was sighing as we waited for Layla to fully sniff this particular blade of grass, when I turned to Henry and said, "Your sister sure does teach us patience, doesn't she?"

And that's when it hit me. She absolutely does. And I absolutely need it. And it's absolutely beautifully timed.

I like to believe I'm in control of my day, my life, and how things go. And I'm so not. Spoiler alert: neither are you! I can hear the sound of so many people clicking out of this blog post at this very moment, but it's true. I'm sorry, because I know how much you want to believe you are. Probably at least half as much as my control freak self wants to believe it.

But you know what's even more delicious than being that person who is totally in control? The person who is in full surrender. That is some yummy, sexy, powerful shit.

Our walk to the post office took much longer than it would have if I went alone, and I had to take deep breaths of patience several times. We don't learn how to surrender in one quick moment, it's something to keep practicing. I was convinced it must have been at least an hour or two by the time we got to the center of town, but the large clock told me it had only been about twenty minutes. Isn't it fascinating how freaking long everything feels when we just want to get there now now now? Don't we decide just exactly how long something should take and if it's any longer (or just feels it) we're stomping our feet in frustration. When really, in the grand scheme of things, we're just barely into the adventure, with everything carefully and thoughtfully planned out for us ahead of time.

When we made it to the post office, and I popped those letters into the mailbox, I pretty much pumped my arms into the air and cheered, and announced that 'we made it, you guys, we made it!', with the exhaustion and pride that one might attribute to, say, someone who had just journeyed across the ocean on a raft. And you better believe I hope some passersby heard me and questioned my sanity. Cause that's always the true sign that I'm doing something right.

Think of something that you think is going to be unnecessarily hard to do, and do that thing. Prove to yourself you can do it. Think of something that you're desperately waiting on and wanting to happen now and allow yourself to surrender to the fact that it's already decided on when and how and if it will come to fruition. Show yourself you can surrender.

And then throw your arms up into the air and cheer for yourself a little bit. Preferably in public.

Lessons in Running

"Ready?", I asked as we turned into Central Park. "Let's do it.", he agreed, and we started jogging at the same time. Left, right, left, right.

The other night, while communicating via email, I felt like this client needed a change of pace - literally and metaphorically. I wrote him back to meet me at my place, running shoes on and ready to go. For some strange reason, people seem to really trust me so he showed up this morning, dropped off his stuff and we took off.

As we started running, I asked him to jut his neck out forward and did it with him. If you're a runner, or even if you've ever just enjoyed a casual jog, you know that it's pretty hard to run with your head leading. It throws you off balance and it doesn't feel too good.

"Here's the thing," I started talking, continuing to run with my neck out, "when we run with our heads moving before out feet, we get uncomfortable, feel awkward, cause ourselves pain, and feel like we're doing something wrong." I eased my neck back into it's rightful and comfortable position before continuing, asking him to do the same. "When we let our feet lead us, it feels much better, and we get to where we're going easier, with less pain. It's the same in life. We can't let our mind move before our actions, just as we can't let our heads move before our feet."

It's something I actually say to myself on my runs: feet before head, just like actions before mind. I repeat this as I loop around corners, as the sweat settles in, and when I think I can't keep going. Somehow, when I get back home and back to work, these words have tucked themselves into my being and I take action much more freely, without worrying about what anyone will think or what the outcome may be. Feet first, actions first.

Slowing him back to a walking pace, I pointed to where we had wound up, at a beautiful fountain in the middle of the most beautiful park in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. "Sometimes it feels like we can't keep going, or that we're pushing ourselves too hard, or that we'll never get out of an uncomfortable place we happen to be in. That our feelings will last forever." I gestured the scenery we had wound up at, "But life is like this. Uncomfortable feelings and situations lead us to beautiful places."

We took off again and instead of going my regular route, I followed a new path and promptly announced I had no idea where we were or how we'd get home (seriously, why do people trust me?). He laughed because I think he was catching on now. "But here's the thing, I'm safe. I'm okay. Nothing bad is happening to me, right?" He agreed. "Just because I don't know where I'm going doesn't mean I won't get there eventually. I'm not going to get stuck here forever. I'm just going to keep going until I find my way to where I need to be."

Have you ever heard that quote about Love being the gentle process of leading ourselves home? Wait, I'll find it. Okay, got it: "Perhaps Love is the process of my leading you gently back to yourself." Running, for me, is love/hate. Most of the things I love most in the world feels a little love/hate sometimes, actually. But running especially. However, I consistently find that running leads me slowly and steadily back to the truth of who I am. It shows me that I'm not someone who gives up, that I can feel like I'm going to die but in actuality I'm totally fine, and that when I'm in pain I am always getting stronger. It reminds me that when I'm receptive to life, I'm flooded with gorgeous lessons that are aligned with what I need to learn at the moment.

We were nearly done by now and running easily down a hill. When we came to a walk again, I mentioned how easy it can feel during the downhill times, when everything feels like it's going great and you want to push forward and go faster to get to where you're going sooner. "But even in those times of feeling easy and free, we still have to maintain our pace, use our core, and not go crazy. If we speed up really fast, there's a chance we'll trip on our own feet and faceplant. It's the same in taking action. If you get a burst of motivation and do everything at once, you might find yourself tripping up and wishing you'd kept your even pace. It's not about getting there faster, it's about trusting that we're on the path we're meant to be on and we'll get there exactly when we're meant to."

Coaching, for me, is not about acting like I have it all together or I know secret things that no one else can ever know. It's about using examples in my own life, admitting to my own flaws and shortcomings, and reminding my clients, and the people around me, that we are all in this together. In essence, we're jogging alongside one another, urging each other on, experiencing all of the same feelings, and trusting that when we're struggling to keep going, a friend will catch our pace and stay next to us awhile, and we'll do that for someone else a little later down the line.

Lace up your shoes, friends. We've got places to go.

Flowers, Crowns, And Don't You Dare Call Me Princess

This is one of my life rules. If you don't buy yourself flowers, ain't nobody else going to.

In other words, if you don't treat yourself the way you want to be treated, no one else will treat you that way either. When you do treat yourself like the incredible, amazing, kick-ass human that you are, you silently and powerfully give permission to everyone around you to treat you in that way, too.

There is no prince(ss) coming to save you. Sorry. If you want a better, bolder, braver, happier, louder, love-filled existence, the only person that can make that happen is you. 

If you're waiting on a relationship to come into the picture to go and do all the things you've been wanting to do, well, may I introduce you to your front door? Front door meet reader, reader meet front door. Now walk out of it and go do those things. And guess what happens when you do? You meet other fascinating life-livers who will immediately treat you with awesomeness because you're out in the world doing what you want.

It really is that easy.

If you treat yourself like you're nothing special, everyone else will, too.

If you treat yourself like you're a freaking Queen (or King), everyone else will, too.

And guess what? You were born to be a Queen or a King in this world.

Stop wasting your time on being a prince or princess and thinking that's good enough. It's not. 

It's not about those who treat themselves like servants. Those people have a better chance of rising up from where they're at. The trickiest situations are those who are the prince of their family or the princess of their office, etc, who are 'mostly' happy and excited. That's where the trouble is. That's where the fear of letting go of the 'mostly' awesome treatment you've been getting in order to be absurdly out-of-your-mind excited about your life comes in. And that fear is loud. However, facing that fear is a whole lot less scary than living a life that is so-so.

And, please, don't put up with others who keep themselves at that "this is okay" level because they will never see your true greatness. Encourage them to start buying themselves flowers. If they say it's a waste of money, move on.

Happy Wednesday. Get your damn tiara on.

Let's Get Uncomfortable

My heart crept up into my throat as we pulled out of the driveway. The same way it always does when I'm leaving. I kept focusing on a few hours from now when I would be settled back in, laundry put away, bed made up with clean sheets, and most likely out gallivanting around my neighborhood. I kept that thought in my mind until the feeling dissipated.

I've just finished two weeks of spending time with my family, outside of the city. Let me paint you a picture: it's a picturesque small town where you can't go anywhere without seeing someone you know. There are grassy parks where kids are playing soccer, and a town swimming pool that families congregate to on the weekends. The Fourth of July is taken with extreme seriousness, and there are three churches within one square mile. I spend my days in an air-conditioned, quiet, inviting space where there is a stocked fridge and cable television. In multiple rooms. I can walk around without socks on and not fear the dirt that is caking onto my skin. It is clean beyond clean. I get to drive with the windows down and music playing as loud as I want to, and I am usually en route to either my best friend's house, the Target that is but five minutes away, or the beach where I'll be greeted by more people that love me. Also, did I mention there is air-conditioning?

It is good, my friends. It. Is. Good.

Add to all of this awesomeness that I'm with my mom, who is my absolute best girl and favorite person to lounge around doing nothing with, and my two sweet baby doggies who are out of their mind happy with the space they have to play in, and their non-city walks full of beautiful grass to roll their doggie selves around in. And I am blessed beyond belief to be able to work from anywhere I am so location doesn't matter.

So you might be saying to yourself by now, "well Kerry, if it's so great, why don't you just stay there?". And to that I would say believe you me I have thought about it. But here's the kicker: just because something is comfortable, does not mean it is right for you.

One more time: just because something is comfortable, does not mean it is right for you.

This thought usually makes me groan and roll my eyes, but it's true. I know that right now I must be in New York City. That's it. I just know. If you know me in real life, you hear me talking lustfully about Los Angeles all the time. Guess what? If I was supposed to be in LA, I would be. It really is that simple. Right now, I'm supposed to be in New York City. If that changes or if I feel called elsewhere, then so it goes.

Sometimes this gives people a bit of a challenge because I can't exactly formulate why I need to be here except just that I do. And my friends, my beautiful souls, let me tell you something: just knowing where you need to be is enough of a reason to be there. (Unless, of course, you're, like, hurting someone or someone is hurting you, in which case you go on ahead and back the heck out of there right now.)

We can apply this to everything. Where you live, who you live with, how you spend your time, what you are doing with your life, what you want to be doing, and whom you choose to love. If you feel comfortable in your job but long to be doing something entirely different then it is time to make a move. If you feel comfortable in your relationship but feel more content then you feel in love, look into that. If you want to move to a city that you've never even been to, just because you feel like you are supposed to or something pinged in your brain when you heard of it the first time, then sweetheart, start packing. Don't waste your time worrying about what you may lose in your comfortable life. The things that will be waiting for you there will be so much better you can't even imagine them now.

Friends, I want to be clear here: being comfortable is not a sign that something is askew. You can absolutely be comfortable and happy at the same time. Just because you're comfortable in your relationship, doesn't mean it's time to break up. I'm talking about the kind of comfortable where we're keeping ourselves somewhere or in something just because it feels safe. Just because the fear of the unknown outweighs the fear of staying in something kind of so-so. That's where the red flags live. And the good news is when something is meant for us, we always get it. So maybe you do leave the comfortable, safe relationship for awhile. If you're meant to be with that person you'll find your way back around to them. Just how it works.

I'm back in the city now, with grime on my feet and my gloriously not air-conditioned apartment (send fans). Within an hour of being back, I found myself with exciting auditions and plans for the week, that seemingly came out of nowhere. Without a doubt, when we listen to ourselves, we are rewarded for being brave and trusting the calm, steady voice that guides us. 

What are you feeling too comfortable with? What kind of change would you make if you weren't afraid?

Happy Monday, friends. Go get those dreams.

Beach Baby, Your Inner Weirdo & #GIRLBOSS

I think there's something you should know about me. I love Mondays. There! I said it. Secret's out.

Mondays excite and invigorate me. I get more done on Monday than any other day of the week, and most importantly, I get it done while feeling enthused and motivated and inspired. I know there's this cult feeling about Mondays that they suck, right? I've seen your pinterests, instagrams and facebook posts about it. If where you're heading on Monday morning, or what you're up to, does not make you want to throw confetti and have dance parties, then take that as a sign to start deciding what does make you want to throw a party to solely celebrate the start of the work week. And then start moving toward that.

Here's something else you should know about me: I love the beach. Oh I love it so much! I'm open to any and all beaches, and have enjoyed sand all up in my life everywhere from California beaches to Florida beaches to Maine beaches, with many in between. But I will tell you what, and this is coming from a girl who seriously loves the Pacific Coast (SoCal! NorCal! The NorthWest! and I don't mean Kayne's baby!) and Florida (summer thunderstorms are my favorite and Florida does warm rain right), there ain't no place like the Jersey Shore.

Am I completely biased? Yes. Did I grow up on these beaches? Yes. Does my Aunt have a home that I sneak off to as much as possible in the summer? Yes. But this is my blog so my biased butt is claiming Jersey beaches to be the best.

While soaking up rays this weekend, I finally joined the bandwagon and began to read #GIRLBOSS. This book is no joke. Sophia Amoruso went from being flat broke, unemployed, uninsured, and virtually doing nothing with her life to running the $150 million dollar brand and shop that we know and love as Nasty Gal. All in less than 8 years. Plus, girlfriend is 30. She's basically a newborn in the business world, and has no formal business training.

She blended listening to herself, trusting her gut, staying authentic to herself, and just doing the damn thing (aka taking action) into the most delicious life cocktail ever.

The reason I read books like this is to remind myself that not only is it doable but that my weird, artsy, non-rule following, dream chasing, action taking self is actually wonderfully made for greatness. There is something super weird about me that makes me a brilliant business owner and creative freak. Many days I pick on myself about these qualities, and I'm even known to whine about how I wish I was 'normal' (doesn't exist) once in awhile. But at the end of the day, I'm super stoked to be able to read a book like this and not even flinch when she mentions finding people and items off of Craigslist, hiring employees from things like Instagram feeds, and taking risk after risk. If this is the kind of place being weird takes me, then heck yes. Bring it on.

And this is true for all of us. We all have special things about us that make us exactly the right fit for the kind of life we desire. Isn't that so cool? You are already equipped with personality traits, quirks, and fascinating thoughts or skills that align with your greatness. It's just a matter of whether or not you choose to shove them aside, hide them in fear or doubt, or grab hold of them like they are the last bottle of coconut water and it is hotter than hell outside, waving them around in the air shouting 'look what I have, look what I have!'.

So, friends, I come to you with two questions:
1. Does Monday make you want to wear a cape, pop on a tiara, and eat cake for breakfast?
2. How can you use your unique qualities to better your life and go after your dreams?

While you're leaving your answers in the comments, tell me where your favorite beach is, k? Cool, love you, mean it, peace out beach bums.

Choosing Your Train Car

When the train slowly came to a halt and it's doors opened, we all piled on as per usual. In less than two seconds, deep sighs were heard as we all simultaneously realized the air conditioning was not working on this particular car of the train. There were words muttered under breath, curses, and general displeasure as every one began to sweat.

Here's where it gets interesting: as the train pulled up to the next station, I noticed most people taking a seat and accepting the gross, starting-to-smell, frustrated car they happened to choose that day. And I noticed this while I walked off of it and on to the car next to us. Which was delightfully air conditioned.

I couldn't help but make the connection to life. Why do we keep ourselves on the smelly, gross, hot car when there is a perfectly wonderful, cool, inviting car next to us? Is it fear that we'll go to the next car and it will be even worse? Is it self-pity taking charge, letting us be all "woe is me" for the moment? Is it classic self-sabotage saying we clearly can't have it all and must suffer? I'm not sure, but whatever it is, it's pretty silly.

You are meant for a life of awesome, not a life filled with settling for whatever you happened to stumble upon. That particular car is not your fate, it's just the car you happened to walk onto. Struggle, suffering, frustration, disappointment and anger are not your truth, it's just what you happen to stumble into from time to time. You are able, at any point, to get off of the car you are currently stuck on and move to one where you're happier.

So, are you keeping yourself on a smelly, sad, frustrated car on the train of life? Or are you perusing all of them until you find one that works best for you?

Enjoy your weekend, friends :)

Be It

photo by katie rain photography

You are going to have days where you want to do nothing. That's okay, embrace it.

There are going to be times where you want to spend the entire day in bed, lounging and watching terrible reality tv shows. That's okay, indulge in it.

There are going to be nights where you can't get your work done no matter how much you force yourself to keep typing. That's okay, release it.

There are going to be times where you're being unbearably hard on yourself to finish, or start, something. That's okay, forgive it.

You are going to look at your to-do list, and look to your running shoes, and look to your couch, and find yourself ignoring both the list and the shoes. That's okay, revel in it.

We are not here to get everything done or be the most productive human beings possible.
We're here to enjoy the experience. And sometimes, enjoying the experience of life means doing very little else except being. That's okay, be it.

Happy Monday, Anne Has Something Important To Say

a friend sent me a link the other day to a blog I'd never been on for a purpose other than finding this. but then, I found this and the fireworks exploded and the lightbulbs flashed and these words settled comfortably into my heart in an 'oh we know you' way. the blog post noted Ms. Lamott had written this in a facebook post so I set off to find the whole thing, which I've copied in its entirety below. that might be the wrong use of it(')s, I don't know, I don't care. this is not about me, this is about her words. oh her words. so spot on. bathe in them. drink them. take them in slowly, the way you do a new lover because these words are about to own your heart.

the part above is what resonated with me the most except every time I read it, I change my mind with what resonates with me the most. the image of someone sitting by the pool, covered up, hesitating to go in for fear of that thigh jiggle. it's so delicious that idea and so spot on for being an artist and a human and how does she write like this?

mm okie doke that's all from me today. would love to know your thoughts in the comments but if you're too busy running off to write your book or paint something, I understand. I understand.

__

There's a whole chapter on perfectionism in Bird by Bird, because it is the great enemy of the writer, and of life, our sweet messy beautiful screwed up human lives. It is the voice of the oppressor. It will keep you very scared and restless your entire life if you do not awaken, and fight back, and if you're an artist, it will destroy you.

My pastor said last Sunday that if you don't change directions, you are going to end up where you are headed. Is that okay with you, to end up still desperately trying to achieve more, and to get the world to validate your parking ticket, and to get your possibly dead parents to see how amazing you always were?

This is not going to happen. They are either so dead, like mine are, or they are insatiable, or so relieved that you did not end up divorced--or if you did, then heavily into drugs, like the Woodson girl, or more out of shape than you are, like Esther's son. It's hopeless, and this is the good news.

Putting those tiny pesky parental voices aside, what about, oh, say, the entire rest of the world?

Do you mind even a little that you are still addicted to people-pleasing, and are still putting everyone else's needs and laundry and career ahead of your creative, spiritual life? Giving all your life force away, to "help" and impress. Well, your help is not helpful, and falls short.

Look, I struggle with this. I hate to be criticized. I am just the tiniest bit more sensitive than the average bear. And yet, I'm a writer, so I periodically put my work out there, and sometimes like all writers, I get terrible reviews, so personal in nature that they leave me panting. Even with a Facebook post, like the last one, do you have any idea what it's like to get 500-plus negative attacks, on my character, from truly bizarre strangers.

Really, it's not ideal.

Yet, I get to tell my truth. I get to seek meaning and realization. I get to live fully, wildly, imperfectly. That's why I'm alive. And all I actually have to offer as a writer, is my version of life. Every single thing that has happened to me is mine. As I've said a hundred times, if people wanted me to write more warmly about them, they should have behaved better

Is it okay with you that you blow off your writing, or whatever your creative/spiritual calling, because your priority is to go to the gym or do yoga five days a week? Would you give us one of those days back, to play or study poetry? To have an awakening? Have you asked yourself lately, "How alive am I willing to be?" It's all going very quickly. It's mid-May, for God's sake. Who knew. I thought it was late February.

It's time to get serious about joy and fulfillment, work on our books, songs, dances, gardens. But perfectionism is always lurking nearby, like the demonic prowling lion in the Old Testament, waiting to pounce. It will convince you that your work-in-progress is not great, and that you may never get published. (Wait, forget the prowling satanic lion--your parents, living or dead, almost just as loudly either way, and your aunt Beth, and your passive-aggressive friends, whom we all think you should ditch, are going to ask, "Oh, you're writing again? That's nice. Do you have an agent?")

Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you're 65, or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didn't go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? It's going to break your heart. Don't let this happen. Repent just means to change direction--and NOT to be said by someone who is waggling their forefinger at you. Repentance is a blessing. Pick a new direction, one you wouldn't mind ending up at, and aim for that. Shoot the moon.

Here's how to break through the perfectionism: make a LOT of mistakes. Fall on your butt more often. Waste more paper, printing out your shitty first drafts, and maybe send a check to the Sierra Club. Celebrate messes--these are where the goods are. Put something on the calendar that you know you'll be terrible at, like dance lessons, or a meditation retreat, or boot camp. Find a writing partner, who will help you with your work, by reading it for you, and telling you the truth about it, with respect, to help you make it better and better; for whom you will do the same thing. Find someone who wants to steal his or her life back, too. Now; today. One wild and crazy thing: wears shorts out in public if it is hot, even if your legs are milky white or heavy. Go to a poetry slam. Go to open mike,and read the story you wrote about the hilariously god-awful family reunion, with a trusted friend, even though it could be better, and would hurt Uncle Ed's feelings if he read it, which he isn't going to.

Change his name and hair color--he won't even recognize himself.

At work, you begin to fulfill your artistic destiny. Wow! A reviewer may hate your style, or newspapers may neglect you, or 500 people may tell you that you are bitter, delusional and boring.

Let me ask you this: in the big juicy Zorba scheme of things, who fucking cares?

-- Anne Lamott from her Facebook page

Happy > Busy (and a question for you)

 

 shirt: c/o much more than me

It's nearly three in the morning. A time I've seen now several days in a row. Earlier today, I'd realized I hadn't eaten anything yet and it was nearly six at night. I finished dinner somewhere around midnight. I'm exhausted. I'm run down. And I've noticed that over the past week or so, I've slipped into a danger zone called "Trying to be Everything to Everyone". I stopped working out, felt groggy, had traded my healthy, whole meals for pita chips in my hand as I ran to the train.

Red flags. Red flags everywhere.

So I'm calling myself out. I can't be everything to everyone. I can be really good to myself and trust that love will pour out into the world and onto those people that I love and interact with. I can be honest about what I can take on and hope the people hearing 'no' will have understanding and forgiveness. I can do my best but stop pushing myself to extremes.

Yet again, I find myself circling back to why we praise being busy in our society. Why do we feel really deliciously good when our calendars and voicemail are full? Why does scheduling something weeks in advance makes us feel adult and important? What about being gentle and easy with ourselves? What about what we want to be doing?

I asked myself that question earlier this week while staring at a growing pile of emails, fear creeping up and over me. "What do you want to do? Who do you want to connect with in this moment?" and I found myself reaching out to two friends whom I've been meaning to write for awhile. Just to say hi, that I love them, I'm proud of them. That's it. That's what I wanted to do. And it felt way better than crossing something else off on my to-do list. Without a doubt, when I work from my heart, I get more done, feel better, and listen to myself along the way. When I work from a to-do list or a place of fear that I won't accomplish something, I struggle, overanalyze, and hide from tasks.

The things that we love are the things that are meant for us. I love going to Lincoln Center, I love helping animals in need, I love being silly and laughing and bouncing around like a child. These things sit in my heart (with many, many more). So when I'm not carving out time to do these things, and the other things I love, I'm actively choosing to go against myself. So that I can feel.. what? Adult? Productive? Frustrated? No thank you.

So what do you want to be doing? Not what should you be doing, not what do others expect of you today, but what do you want to be doing? Do that.

You are not being selfish, you are not being "unrealistic" (that's a curse word in my book), you are taking care of your precious body, precious spirit and using your finite time in the ways you want to. Taking care of yourself does not mean you aren't taking care of others. Actually, it means you can take care of others even more.

So now, what do you want to do today? Do that.

Lessons In Snuggling

Every morning, I wake up to a little puppy girl snuggled up against me. She likes to keep at least one paw on me at all times but sleep calls for fully up against my back, my stomach or sometimes lounging over my head (yes, it's as fun as it sounds). No one knows Layla's story except for Layla but I'm pretty sure her original human(s) left her and she'll be damned if that ever happens again (not that it ever, ever will - girl is home for life with me).

This morning, however, when I rolled over to say good morning to her, I realized the furry butt snuggled up to me was my Henry. My non-snuggler. My boy who likes a lot of space to sprawl out in. This makes sense when we factor in that he was locked in a cage for the first 6 months of his life. Kid likes his space.

My heart was just filled up with love immediately, and a thought struck me: encouraging someone to be braver but giving them the space to grow in their own time and on their own terms, while accepting them exactly as they are each step along the way, might be my personal definition of Love.

This awesome revelation was quickly followed by the pang of guilt and shame as I realized I do this wholeheartedly with my dogs.. but am not as gentle or patient with the humans I love.

One of my blessing/curses is that I can always see the incredible potential of the people that I love. I can see their greatness and that they already have within them the things they feel they are lacking. And I want to wave my arms frantically and make banners announcing it. "Hey look over here! You are already the amazing, beautiful, worthy creature you are attempting to be! Let me show you how to access that!"

And that's not my job. Unfortunately. Well actually is is my job but only with my clients and even then I can only shine a light, they must still make the journey. More over, just because I love self-growth (uh, obsessively) and striving toward always learning more about myself doesn't mean everyone else does. And just because I love someone that does not give me permission to coach them. And it certainly does not give me permission to highlight what I may feel they need to change. Not my business.

I'm trying to figure out why it's so easy with my dogs and harder with my human tribe. My dogs love and accept me unconditionally, so that's a start. And I am constantly reminding myself that they have had some tough times before so it's my duty to actively show them love. But the same can be said for people.

I remember having a similar thought about this several months ago. I was struggling to get Henry to learn something new and reminded myself to be patient with his growth, when it dawned on me that I was not being patient with the growth of my favorite human. I wanted that person to be able to be in a place they weren't ready to be in yet, and I wanted them to get there faster than they were able. When I actively reminded myself to love and accept him the way I love and accept Henry, it really shifted things. Since I'm a flawed human too, I forgot about this idea after awhile and went back to wanting him to be ready nownownow. But the good news is this great experience this morning has reminded me I get to try again with the people that I love.

So that's my current goal: encourage those I love to be braver but give them the space to grow in their own time, on their own terms, while accepting them exactly as they are right now.
Should be super easy, right? ;) If you're down to join me in this mission, let me know in the comments!

Start

It's usually every day that I find myself jotting down ideas to blog about. Or at least making a mental note of the ideas and stories I have to share. And then I circle back to the idea that I must do a first post. An intro. A welcome.

Which is, in other words, a big fat excuse and distraction as to why I can't get started.

Then it became about the images and finding the right one, or the only one, or the best one. Say it with me now: excuses.

Here is the truth: it is on us to start. To pick up the pen and start to write, to open our mouths and begin to sing, to pick up the guitar that's sitting lonely in the corner staring at us, to lace up our running shoes and get outside, to pick up the phone and call the person we're afraid to. It's on us. And that is some heavy responsibility filled with fears, doubts, and what-if's.

But if we don't do it, it will never be done. It will never exist. The masterpiece that only you can create, the love that only you can give, will never be out in the world. It will stay bottled up within you.

So let's do this together: take a deep breath and today, challenge yourself to start or do the thing you've been meaning to do for awhile now. Be brave.

Go get your dreams, friends.