because of the sadness

Louis C.K. explains, as only Louis C.K. can, why he won't give his children cell phones, and, in the midst of it all, visits the beauty of vulnerability, authenticity and the power of sadness.

**Be forewarned, profanity is present**

belated blog-iversary

"People change all the time and forget to tell each other."

Lillian Gershwin

A little over a week ago, on a wholly blessed trip back home to the Pacific Northwest, I did it.  I chopped off my hair.  It was a spur of the moment decision, one only made at a trusted salon and with my super supportive sweetheart by my side.  I have no idea how to style it each morning (Have I mentioned that I have the lowest-maintenance beauty regimen ever?), but the change was made. 

You're probably wondering where I am going with this.  It's not often that I choose to talk about my hair (it's pretty unspectacular, as far as I am concerned)... but stay with me. For the first few days, I was deeply aware of the transition -- trying to find my way around a blow-dryer again, grateful for excited comments from family and friends.  But, after a few days, after returning to Flagstaff and daily routines, I found myself completely forgetting that, just last week, I had a set of long, luscious locks.  Co-workers and friends would comment about my "new do," and I would find myself searching for a few moments to remember that I did indeed look strikingly different from the last time they had seen me.  The novelty, the conscious recognition of change had worn off, and it took friends, family, the outside world to remind me that there had indeed been a transformation.

Last week, on my Facebook page (have you had a chance to "like" it yet?), I shared a link to a blog post by Danielle LaPorte on Celebrating Your Evolution.  In the post, she speaks about recognizing our transformation, acknowledging our changes and, as the title would suggest, celebrating our evolution! 

I am regrettably about a month behind in recognizing this, but, in August, To Live Boldly celebrated it's one year anniversary! Can you believe it? One year of reflection, 365 days of self-disclosure, 12 months of transformations in vulnerability and wellness.  A year of experimentation, of introspection, and of growth. A year of falling on my face, of risk-taking, of blunders that lead to joyful self-discovery.

Danielle's post inspired me to think about this past year of life in Flagstaff and the transformations, both painful and natural, that have occurred from taking this big, fat risk.  How do I see the world differently?  Where have my priorities changed?  How do I look at myself differently now?  My partner? My loved ones?

My world has changed dramatically.  I still seek and search and honestly have no idea what the future will bring, but I have discovered passion and self-acceptance and greater depths of joy.  My relationships have transformed, growing deeper as they change shape.  My desires for myself, my future, my health have shifted, and my ability to prioritize my joy is finally taking form.

I have been anxiously awaiting the shift into a new season -- there is a refreshing newness that comes with the turning of the leaves -- and what better time to take a moment to celebrate all that has transformed since we last welcomed Autumn?

What about you?  Whether in the last month, last year, or last ten years, take a moment to appreciate your transformation.

for the creatives

for the creatives.

*cough, cough, that means all of you, cough, cough*

a little link love to start off the week. 

"the story of freddy & the iphone - and 4 questions for the creatives"

also, check out the author, danielle laporte, and her fabulous blog. it just might inspire you to something great today.

lovely, lovely love song.

Photo courtesy of Mary Lambert

She says, I smell like safety and home

I named both of her eyes, 'forever' and 'please don't go'

I have featured her poetry here before, and I am sure that most of you have heard her incredible voice emanating from the speakers on your radio... but Mary Lambert, the co-author of "Same Love," which went platinum just this past month, by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis, is making some melodious waves herself in a release based on the same song. 

Whether you're gay, straight, or somewhere in between, "She Keeps Me Warm" puts words to love, with the graceful power of Mary's voice behind them.  It is intimate and deeply personal, resonating with the universal experience of being truly in love -- comfortable, life-giving, and exhilarating.  If you haven't had a chance to listen, do it. Listen, share, download.  And, if you have a moment, read her thoughts behind the release of this oh-so-personal single.

love this

It's no secret that one of my favorite researchers, writers and storytellers is the lovely Brene Brown, who shares with us about the depths of shame, the reality of being in the arena and fighting the good fight of authenticity and compassion, and our own power to know and love ourselves.

I wanted to share with you Brene's own advice on how to cultivate vulnerability in your own life and who deserves to hear your story.

musical reflections: guest blogger

In a sea of junk mail and over-zealous mass marketing, my favorite emails to receive (other than your comments, of course!) are those that come from my youngest sister, who is - at the age of twelve - the most perfectly ridiculous and creative little spitfire I've ever met (don't tell her I told you...).  Each week,   she sends a different combination of family members -- parents, sisters, brother, our sweethearts -- the best emails in the world.  Sometimes absurd and other times reflective, she continues to amaze me with her imagination, complete ridiculousness and depth.

Instead of our usual toliveboldly post, the little spitfire has given me permission to repost one of my favorite emails.  Whether or not you connect with the message or feel the same way, I find myself deeply inspired (and unbelievably proud) by the depth and passion behind her reflection.  Without further ado, please help me welcome our first guest blogger: the infamous "Yoshi" Krueger**!!!

**Obviously not her real name... though I'm pretty positive that she wishes it was.

"Inspiration"

I've got an inspiration about something. You know how I'm appalled about music not being in therapy, because it can positively effect a persons' mood?!

I was listening to Home by Phillip Phillips, when it got me inspired... listen to the song.

Close your eyes and let it fill you with it's melody.  It really does have an effect.

It's amazing what some lyrics and a melody will do to a person. It's truly inspiring.

The melody is simple with simple lyrics, but together they are perfect.

Music defines us.  It can effect us emotionally in ways that even the most aggravating person can't compete with.  It fills me with... joy, pride, happiness?

Watch August Rush, then you'll get a better feel for what it does. 

"It" meaning music. Any kind. It doesn't matter as long as it has an imprint on you.

Then hold onto that feeling and keep it with you for the rest of the day.

That's your homework.

1. Listen to Home by Phillip Phillips.

2. Really listen, but don't strain yourself.

3. Watch August Rush.

4. Find a piece of music or a song that will give you something to hold onto.

5. Keep that feeling for the rest of the day.

6. Email me back (or comment) and tell me what you feel.

Personally, I get this tingly feeling coursing through my veins.

That's what I'm talking about.

That sense of pride or hope.  It fills you.  It consumes you.

In a good way of course.

to come alive

Photo via French by Design

------------------------------------------------------------

My deepest apologies for the inconsistency in my bloggery lately!  As I said before, life has thrown a number of challenges and unexpected blessings my way, and it's been quite the task to take them all in and digest them.  Needless to say, it hasn't left much time for organizing those thoughts and reflections into a comprehensible blog post!

A couple of months ago, as we rolled into 2013, I began reading The Happiness Project, which chronicles one woman's year-long exploration into what makes people happy.  Each month takes on small life-changes, wrapped neatly (and hilariously) around a monthly theme.  January tackled boosting energy, while February worked through remembering love and relationships.  Amazingly enough, March's theme was centered on bringing happiness practices into work.  A couple of months ago, after weeks of corporate uncertainty and waffling, my hours working for a local non-profit here in Flagstaff were dramatically reduced.  In the weeks after receiving notification that my hours were to be cut in half, losing my health insurance and the knowledge of certain income, I spent hours (mixed in with anxiety-fueled freakout sessions) reflecting on my next step.  Do I move on from my years in social services?  Do I hold out for the possibility of added hours?  How do I maintain my motivation and my dedication to the families that I serve without knowing what the future holds?  Is this a tragedy... or an opportunity?

Opportunity.  It was this last question that proved the most inspirational for me during my bouts of uncertainty and anxiety.  It's as if the insecurity of my position was just the thing to knock me out of my career complacency and out of my comfort zone.  I was forced to ask myself the question: if not this, then what?  What would I do if I could do anything?  What changes would I make if I knew that I could not fail?  What changes would I make even if I failed?

The unknown and uncertain awakened in me the reality of possibility.  I could finally begin working towards goals that I had set aside for another day, could finally go after what I am passionate about.  Could finally make the bold choice, living out what this journey of courage has been all about.

Months and months ago, I had begun researching schools that specialized in nutrition, health and wellness, a clear passion of mine.  I dug deep into reviews and accreditation, contacted old friends and new connections to learn more about the options.  And, then, just like many of our passions in life, I set it aside, put it on a shelf for another day... when it would be more convenient.  I was waiting for the perfect timing, for the clouds to part with assurances of financial security and the guarantee of success.  Yeah... not sure what I was thinking.  Courage never looks clean and neat.  It's messy and sweaty.  Bold choices are not guaranteed to succeed.  Heck, many of them lead to leave-you-flat-on-your-ass failure.  But to be the man in the arena, face marred by dust and sweat and blood... is worth the fight.

The anxiety, the uncertainty, the insecurity... it's opportunity.

Last Monday, I began my studies with the Institute for Integrative Nutrition to become a health coach.  Thanks to the amazing support of my family and friends, I have taken the dream off of the shelf and decided to live it.  I am so excited for the next year -- to learn about our bodies, our connection with food, and how to transform our health into wellness.  I am so excited to begin building a career of passion and inspiration and to live out my deepest intentions for the process.  No longer will I let the fear of inconvenience allow me to live comfortably... it's time to live boldly.

not cool, robert frost

Two roads diverged in the woods,

and I took the road less traveled.

And it hurt, man!

Really bad.

Rocks!

Thorns!

And glass!

... not cool, Robert Frost!

But what if there really were two paths?

I would be on the one that leads to awesome.

finding purpose

It doesn't happen often that I post twice in one day,

but I couldn't help but pass along this gem.

It's exactly what I needed to hear today.

 

The Myth of Finding Your Purpose.

 



we need to talk

Supervisor: Hey, Katie, do you have time to chat this afternoon?

The words set off an immediate reaction. The equivalent of hearing your partner say, "We need to talk."

Me: Yeah, sure, of course!

Let the internal freak-out begin. Must keep a smile on my face. Don't let the anxiety show.

Supervisor: Half an hour or so?

Me: Perfect!

Perfect?!  Who am I kidding?  I just want to get it over with.  As I return to my office, I can almost hear my mind whirring with the possibilities.  Immediately, I fly into assumption-mode.  What did I do wrong?  Paperwork?  Did I cross a boundary?  Did I say something wrong?  My mind churns, as I try to think back on where I could have misstepped. 

This, by the way, has always been my first reaction, my first assumption.  What did I do wrong?  As a lifelong perfectionist, my reactions are steeped in shame.  I've become a pro at critical self-talk -- my arsenal full of personal flaws, at the ready for moments like these.  If something goes wrong, my first assumption is that that thing must be me.  Playing the self-blame game has become almost second-nature, damaging not only my relationship with myself but my relationships with those that I love.  Instead of opening up moments of conflict to become opportunities for authentic relational growth, it causes me to focus on my personal short-comings rather than the potential in strengthening my most valued connections.

But, as in all things, I am learning -- with the help of my partner, family and friends -- to transform that instinct for critical self-talk into some serious opportunities for self-love.

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about one of the new books that I'm reading, The Happiness Project by author Gretchen Rubin -- who, utilizing wisdom from academics and philosophers alike, lived (and wrote about) a year of integrating different happiness practices in her life.  Last week, after visiting her (pretty fabulous) website, I signed up for her "Happier at Home: 21-Day Relationship Challenge."  Each day, Gretchen sends, via email, a different tip for integrating happiness practices into your relationship -- make sure you check them out, it's not too late to sign up!  The funny thing is that, while I am so inspired in learning new ways to love my partner, her tips are teaching me new ways to love myself!  Only five days into a three-week challenge, I am finding that each of her tips can be transformed into a practice of self-compassion.

Day One: Kiss in the morning, Kiss in the night. Ok, ok, it doesn't directly translate, but the practice of showing yourself and your loved ones affection, does.  Why not use this moment to listen to your body and show it some serious love?  Take a bath, go for a run, take a yoga class.  How do you show your body appreciation and love?

Day Two: Give gold stars.  You make it a habit to verbally affirm those around you, whether they are family, friends or co-workers.  Why not turn it around on yourself?  Take this moment to appreciate one of your strengths.  Say it out loud if you want to -- you need to hear it.

Day Three: Make the positive argument.  One of the first lessons in fair fighting is to never make broad generalizations.  Finding yourself speaking some critical self-talk?  Use this moment to turn it around.  Instead of listening to your internal self-critic as it speaks to your weakness, take this moment to instead focus on what makes you strong.

Day Four: Under-react to a problem.  Ok, so we all screw up, we all have moments of stress or anxiety.  Don't ignore or minimize the responsibilities that you have, but take this moment to breathe and "under-react," facing your stressors or that screw-up from a place of peace and calm.

Day Five: Give warm greetings and farewells. So... I had a harder time applying this directly.  But I realized that, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I rarely take the time to kindly greet myself and speak kindness to my body.  Speak some love -- what do you appreciate about your body?

What about YOU?!  How do you find opportunities to cultivate self-compassion?!

By the way, as it usually happens, my talk with my supervisor had nothing to do with any mistakes that I made.  My critical self-talk and search for flaws was just my shame speaking.

the new fat

Word on the street is that stress is the "new fat."  In a culture where the new year brings a slew of hopeful (albeit usually broken) weight loss resolutions, research shows that we may (cough, cough, may?!) be focusing on the wrong side of the equation.  Janesse Bruce, a health and wellness media veteran, writes: "I see that the obesity crisis now has a sister crisis that threatens to knock it out of top billing: stress. Like its sibling, stress is an economic, medical and social problem of epidemic proportion and is making us emotionally depleted, physically sick, and, incidentally, fatter." 

We are a society bathing in stress.  We are traumatized, repeatedly, by the news media, stretched to our financial limits by American consumer habits, challenged to perfection by corporate competition, and exhausted by expectations.  And it shows.  Just like with our weight loss goals, we look for quick fixes and surface-level lifestyle shifts to make the change.  As Brene Brown says, "We are the most in-debt, obese, addicted and medicated adult cohort in U.S. history." 

It's at this point that I make a vulnerable admission.  Despite my greatest personal hopes and expectations, attempts at lifestyle transformation, and... the fact that I write a blog focused on health and wellness, I am a walking knot of anxiety and stress. 

I'll be completely honest and admit to the fact that I am naturally (and probably genetically) high-anxiety and a true perfectionist -- cue the monthly financial freakout and my-house-is-too-cluttered heart palpitations.  But the past month - with the threat of cuts at work, a car accident, and a bout with the flu - has been particularly anxiety-fueled.  And, instead of relying on my well-researched, wellness-based methods of stress-relief, my default patterns of self-destruction include a menagerie of sugary treats, mind-numbing tv shows, and hours of "what if" ruminating.  Rather than cultivating practices of mindfulness and gratitude, I have found myself knee-deep in anxiety, my mind spinning with future worries.  And it's not only my thoughts that have been consumed... the stress trickles out into conversations and interactions with those that I love most.

Something needs to change.

I am not typically one that believes in New Year's resolutions.  When almost 80% of New Year's resolutions are broken... well, I can't put much stock in their power.  However, I am one for making goals.  Small, manageable, reachable goals.  Research continues to show that goal setting is transformative for success -- whether it's physical, emotional or fiscal.

While going through one of my "my-house-is-too-cluttered" anxiety-fests last week, I took a gander at one of my bookshelves and glanced upon a book that I had purchased years ago but never managed to read...

THE HAPPINESS PROJECT: 

Or why I spent a year trying to sing in the morning,

clean my closets, fight right, read Aristotle, and generally have more fun.

Gretchen Rubin writes with brilliant authenticity, allowing readers, allowing me, to openly approach the idea of making small, concrete goals to make more room for joy.  By exploring the works of famous philosophers and reputable academics, the book chronicles her monthly happiness project, making small, manageable changes in her daily habits and everyday perspectives.  I could not be more grateful for this inspiring find, as I search for a way to replace my stress with habitual joy.  As often occurs when I read, my reflections bring deeper motivation, daily inspiration and external reminders to cultivate practices of wellness, changing my habits and patterns through small changes.  Conveniently, Rubin has divided and themed her monthly goals, to be combined in the final month in one joyful month of happiness practices.

For January, Rubin's focus is to Boost Energy, breaking it down into manageable parts and citing findings from philosophers and academics alike in the creation of her goals:
*Go to sleep earlier
*Exercise better
*Toss, restore, organize
*Tackle a nagging task
*Act more energetic

For myself, I am working to create my own list of energizing goals and continue to be inspired as I read further!  I'm walking more, making a pile for donation, and finding ways to declutter my environment... though, I'll be honest, that sleep thing is sounding pretty good right about now.

-----------------------------------

What about for you?!  What are your goals this year?  What are some small, concrete goals that will help you boost your energy and make room for a little more joy?

something worth remembering

Dear Human:

You've got it all wrong.  You didn't come here to master

unconditional love.  That is where you came from and where

you'll return.  You came here to learn personal love.

Universal love.  Messy love.  Sweaty love.

Crazy love.  Broken love.  Whole love.  Infused with divinity.

Lived through the grace of stumbling.

Demonstrated through the beauty of... messing up.  Often.

You didn't come here to be perfect.  You already are.

You came here to be gorgeously human.

Flawed and fabulous.

 

.:author unknown:.

beautiful, adored, true.



As this week began, I was certain that I knew what I was going to be blogging about for today's post. 

In moving to Flagstaff, I had made a commitment to wellness and had, for the first few months, carved out a sacred daily ritual, dedicated to healthy eating, daily exercise and soaking up every bit of emotional and spiritual inspiration that I could.  Blessed with the temporary gift of unemployment, I had all the time in the world to dedicate to this new passion.  I felt stronger, empowered. 

A few weeks ago, I began in a new position working for a local non-profit working with families in crisis. Honestly, I love it.  Beyond the true blessing of employment, it is challenging, heart-breaking, inspiring, educational and impactful.  Most days, I drive home inspired to learn more, connect deeply, and engage with everyone I meet in a more authentic way.

However, after months of creating daily rituals, I was jolted by the reality that my routine would completely change.  No longer would I have those long afternoons to read.  No longer could I wake up and workout.  No longer could I count on the basic daily rituals that I had fallen so deeply in love with. As my honey can attest, it was a bit of an emotional speed-bump for me, as I tested the waters of this new reality, missing my most beloved routines and forced to create new ones.  I could not figure out how to get past the loss of my much-loved routines and rituals, could not figure out how to move forward and create new habits.

This past weekend, after weeks of unhealthy, convenience-based eating and a complete lack of exercise, I hit a low point.  I found myself staring at my body in the mirror, thinking thoughts that I would not think about my worst enemies (not that I have any), and feeling like a true failure.  Where I had once felt strong and empowered, I now held tightly to the soft skin on my sides, feeling disgusted and discouraged.  My sweetheart held me, whispering softly that he wished that I loved myself as much as he did.

As the days passed and I slowly climbed out of that darkeness, struggling to remember my worth, I thought that I would be writing today about failure, redemption, starting over.

But then...

Victoria's Secret reminded me that I am beautiful, worthy, whole.

Let me explain.

Until Wednesday night, I had never seen the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show.  Honestly, I'm not sure that I even really knew that it existed until a few weeks ago, when my sweetheart and I were talking about one of his classroom discussions.  Many of the women had expressed how deeply affected they were each year when watching the VS Fashion Show, the skantily-clad and unrealistically skinny models convincing them year after year that they were less-than-enough, unworthy in comparison to our society's vision of perfection.  As the event approached, I saw similar sentiments expressed through social networks, Facebook statuses and tweets of women preparing themselves for the self-esteem smack-down they expected to receive.

And so, it was with a true psychological interest that I tuned in.  I am not sure what I expected to experience, but all I could think, the models strutting down the runway, was this...

I am beautiful. The women on TV, they too are beautiful. But my worth is not defined by their proportions. Watching the models, decked out in angel wings and lacy lingerie, I was remind that I am real, I am whole. When my sweetheart wraps his arms around me, love-handles and all, it is not my measurements that define his love.  While it's nice to hear, I don't need anyone else to remind me of my worth. My body, while cushioned and curvy, is beautiful, real, authentically me.  And to wish that I was anyone else is to deny that I am beautiful, adored, true.

"love your body the way your mother loved your baby feet
and brother, arm wrapping shoulders, and remember,
this is important:
you are worth more than who you f*ck
you are worth more than a waistline
you are worth more than any naked body could proclaim
in the shadows, more than a man's whim
or your father's mistake
you are no less valuable as a size 16, than a size 4
you are no less valuable as a 32A than a 36C,
your sexiness is defined by concentric circles within your wood;
wisdom."

 

-mary lambert, i know girls (bodylove) -

today, i am grateful for...

Nestled neatly on his desk, amongst the papers, pens and picture frames, my sweetheart keeps a daily calendar.  A beloved Christmas present from my dad, the calendar contains daily quotes from NBC's "The Office."  The other day, as we were flipping through the previous weeks' moments of pure Office hilarity, we hit upon this gem.  Now, to be totally honest, I have no idea what happened here or what episode it's from, but something in the interaction spoke deeply to me. 

I have a dirty little secret (other than the 15 mini candy bar wrappers I threw away in the dumpster this morning... whoops, did I just share that?!).  Sometimes, I seriously suck at communicating.  

Just two days ago, over dinner, my honey and I experienced our own little version of Pam and Oscar's conversation (...in this case, I'd be Oscar).  Here's how it played out (the short version... the long version is a sad and drawn-out mess of communication dysfunction, on my part).  

I am overwhelmed.  Don't say anything.  I am stressed.  Don't say anything.  Phone rings, texts beep, remember I had forgotten to send an email, overwhelming feeling increases.  Don't say anything.  Honey asks for a favor, I say yes.  Still don't say anything.  Go oddly quiet.  Honey knowingly asks what is wrong.  I explode in a snotty mess of tears.  He asks me to share, patiently waiting while I work through the spectrum of emotions.  I blame, accuse, collapse and finally admit... he wraps his arms around me.  I sob, forcing out the words: "I don't know how to share."  

He, of course, knows this already.

Don't get me wrong, most days, I'm on my communication game.  My honey and I work in unison, opening up, growing in loving honesty, cultivating gratitude for one another and our partnership.  We are 3 steps ahead, seeing potential problems, sharing with vulnerability.  I catch my partner's pass, respond with compassion, see where our relationship needs to grow and make it happen.  

But some days... I am not.  And, to be totally honest, the same can be said of my partner.  We fumble.  We miss a pass.  Or worse... there are days when we don't even show up for the game.  It's on days like this that we have to revisit the game tape and figure out where we went wrong.

It's days like this when I am grateful for the gift of forgiveness.

I am deeply inspired by my friends and family who are using this month leading up to Thanksgiving as a time to cultivate gratitude.  Whether it's through pictures on Instagram, statuses on Facebook, or the fundamental act of cultivating gratitude in real-time (hint, hint, life-changing stuff), I am encouraged, enlivened and inspired by the life-giving fruits of appreciation and thanksgiving.  As Brene Brown writes, "Practicing gratitude is how we acknowledge that there's enough and that we're enough."

Today, I am grateful for the deeply personal gift of forgiveness.  I am grateful for a partnership where commitment, compassion and trust encourage us through the sometimes messy work of growing in relationship with one another.  I am grateful for my relationships with family and friends, created on the foundation of unconditional love and open to growth and change.  I am so thankful for their continual love, support and strength.  Especially on those days that I don't show up as my best self... and even on those days that I do.

What about you, my dear friends?  What are you grateful for today?

numb the dark and you numb the light

Happy November, my dear friends!

I can't believe that it's already here, though the rows upon rows of Christmas decorations and toys are telling me that it's so (not that I'm one to complain... I am obsessed with the holiday season, something that I'm sure will be obvious in the coming weeks)!  

I pray that you all are safe and sound wherever you are -- I am sending love to all of you who experienced the wrath of Hurricane Sandy this past week, and I hope that you are warm and rested in your corner of the world.

For me, with each new month comes reflection.  I don't know what it is about the passing of each month, but something about the arrival of a new one reminds me to check my priorities, restructure my goals and recommit to my purpose.  It's as if the turning of that calendar page is a sobering reminder of the importance of mindfulness, somehow speaking deeply into my heart... don't let this experience pass you by, live in the present, be mindful of each day, each passing moment.

If you've been following along, you know that one of my recent literary goldmines has been the book Daring Greatly, by Brene Brown.  While I usually inhale a new book (like the one I finished yesterday while recovering from a sore throat in bed), this particular gem has had me working through it slowly.  It has so much goodness, so much meat to it, that I just want to savor every bite.  With each page, I am inspired and emboldened, not to mention soothed by the realization that my neuroses are quite normal.

To be completely honest... warning: moment of vulnerability here... while I attempt to keep a mask of cool, calm and control (gotta love that alliteration!), I am, sometimes (more frequently than I would like to be), a total ball of neurotic, anxious energy, albeit a very pretty and well-groomed one.  My insecure thoughts like to run away with themselves, jumping from presumed weakness to weakness with glee, leaving me (and, let's be honest, my sweetheart) with a blubbering mess of anxiety and shame.  Yeah, it's as fun as it sounds.

And, from what I've learned... while it might differ in degree or particular neuroses... I'm not alone.  We may not all dissolve into tears at the end of an anxiety-producing day, or be victim to the disease of overanalysis, but our anxieties, our shame-filled insecurites... well, they're pretty universal.  And, we all work through these painful pieces of vulnerability differently.  Some of us exercise.  Others of us eat.  Some of us direct that anxiety onto our partners, fearful of speaking the words of vulnerability.  Some of us are proactive, recognizing our patterns and creating boundaries to manage them in advance.  Some of us hide in perfectionism, while many protect ourselves by desperately guarding ourselves against that pain and limiting our joy, as well.  The list goes on...

But, in our society of crazy-busy, fill-every-moment, must-be-productive-ness, one of our most commonly used defenses is that of numbing.  We use food, substances, even daily distractions to avoid our pain, our naked vulnerability.  

Brene writes:

"... numbing vulnerability is especially debilitating because

it doesn't just deaden the pain of our difficult experiences;

numbing vulnerability also dulls our experiences of love, joy,

belonging, creativity, and empathy.

We can't selectively numb emotion.

Numb the dark and you numb the light."

While I was reading today, red holiday cup in hand and curled up in the comfy corner chair at my local Starbucks, I was struck with how deeply engrained our numbing-strategies are within our lives.  Brene speaks of it as a kind of addictive behavior, and while it may not be compulsive or chronic like addiction, our attempts to numb our vulnerability, shame, anxiety and disconnection are deep-seated and desperate.  We numb with comfort foods, that glass (or two or three) of wine after a long day, with pills.  It's so habitual that it's normalized, accepted, even suggested. But we've also learned to numb with the distractions around us -- the tv, the internet, our smartphones.  Instead of mindfulness, we've turned to mindless distractions, transforming what could be beautiful, relaxing or connecting -- your favorite tv show, fruitful conversation, long-distance connection -- into compulsion and desperation.  We lose track of time online instead of having that sometimes difficult conversation with our partner.  We choose social networks instead of spending quality time with our family.  We compulsively check our phones to the point of drowning out the social interaction around us.  We're so plugged in that we're tuned out.

"For me, it wasn't just the dance halls, cold beer, and Marlboro Lights 

of my youth that got so out of hand - it was banana bread, 

chips and queso, e-mail, work, staying busy, incessant worrying, planning, 

perfectionism, and anything else that could dull those agonizing 

and anxiety-fueled feelings of vulnerability."

-Brene Brown-

My habits of distraction are deeply engrained -- constantly checking my phone, my social networks, my email.  Sometimes, I miss out on conversation. Or a passing bit of beauty on a long drive. Sometimes, I use my favorite romcom to check out of life for a bit -- numbing my anxiety with the familiar actors and predictable story lines.  Other times, I use busyness to think about something else, anything else than the nagging anxiety. And I'm missing out on the tough, vulnerable, messy, and beautiful moments for growth and joy.  I am tired of the numbing distractions, the unconscious bingeing, the habits created out of a wounded desire to disconnect.

This month, I am intentionally practicing being plugged into life, unplugging my phone and computer (other than for studying purposes) after 9pm with a commitment to return only after breakfast the next morning.  On the other side of the world, I have a dear friend who is unplugging completely one day a week to reconnect and refresh.  What about you? Do you need to re-program how you eat? Or drink? How can you cultivate connection, practice self-compassion and explore vulnerability? Where have you numbed out?  I would love to create a community here where we can share and learn and grow together, because I know that I am learning so much from you.

Sending love your way.  Be kind to yourselves!

love thyself

"... we can only love others as much as we love ourselves."

Brene Brown, Daring Greatly

Everyday, at 5:00pm, my alarm goes off on my phone and blinks the word, "kindness."  More than just announcing the end of the classic work day, this little reminder is one of the ways that I actively work to love myself.  My youngest sister calls this my "say-something-nice" time -- a moment where the rest of the world freezes, and I take a split second to appreciate and honor who I am with the tiniest little inward expression of kindness.  God bless her little heart, she's jumped on the bandwagon, too, choosing to use my 5pm reminder to speak kindness to me.  Just the other day, while we were Skyping (what a beautiful, miraculous invention!), she said that she wanted to give me my compliment in advance, bringing me close to tears when she told me, "I love seeing you smile... oh, and you do a really good job cutting [the boyfriend's] hair."  

Which, by the way, I do.

The truth is that I have a habit of being my own worst critic.  Every tiny flaw, every little blemish, every moment of imperfection -- my instinct is to seize it and use it to further prove to myself that I am not enough.  Not pretty enough, not smart enough, not successful enough, not good enough... on and on.  And I know that I am not the only one.

We live in a society where we are never enough, and, despite the narcissistic leanings of our culture, the "love" that we may have for ourselves is oftentimes a mask for the shame, insecurity and fear of being "not enough."  We cake on our make-up, bulk up our muscles, and stroke our egos.  I think of our usage of social networks, the masks that we carefully reveal to the world, and the inner comparisons of our daily lives to others' "highlight reel."  Our "love" is the armor we put on when we don't believe that we are worthy of being loved, even by ourselves.  Even more than that, we are taught that to appreciate the deeply beautiful parts of ourselves is to break some fundamental societal rule.  Ask almost anyone and they will tell you ten things that they think are wrong with them before opening up with what is most right with them.  To appreciate our greatest qualities is an act of vulnerability, to do it in public a frightening rebellion against the norm.  We've confused humility with self-deprecation.  We somehow believe that loving others means denying ourselves the same compassion.  

There was a point, about a year ago, when I was just fed up, exhausted even, with how I treated myself.  I was my own bully.  It was heartbreaking and internally degrading.  But I felt tied to this pattern of self-deprecation, confused about how to truly love myself without being "in love" with myself.  There was something almost scary about entertaining the idea of loving who I was and an unhealthy comfort in the familiarity of the shame I experienced -- like opening that door to love would be more work, more pain.

And guess what?  I was right.  Opening that door sucked, in a way.  But it was worth the work, worth the pain in the discovery of unhealthy patterns and relationships, worth the painstaking unveiling of the greatest parts of who I am.  And it has left me with deep gratitude.  I am grateful for a remarkable therapist who inspired my "say-something-nice" reminders, which, by the way, began as a three-times-a-day practice.   I am grateful for the reminders from family and friends to be kind to myself.  And guess what else?  I am finding that I am grateful for who I am, as well.  

To truly love others, to be in whole, complete, vulnerable and compassionate relationship with others, requires that we first love ourselves.  When I actively practice self-love, my relationships with others are deepened.  It changes the way that I love my partner, my family, my closest friends.  And, hey, if that weren't enough, I'm just plain happier.  It's transformative.  In fact, studies show that self-compassion (which goes beyond the highly touted self-esteem) could be the "key to unlocking your true potential," as well as a barrier against anxiety.

As for me, my daily "say-something-nice" time is only one weapon in my arsenal of self-compassion.  How about you?  What weapons are in your arsenal? 

dare greatly

Happy Friday, my dearest friends!  

I can't begin to tell you how beautiful it is today here in our little mountain town -- Autumn has arrived!  The leaves are turning, the sky is clear and the air is deliciously crisp!   We're finally bundled in warm sweaters and blankets, drinking in all of the autumnal wonderfulness (not to mention my fair share of tea and Pumpkin Spice Lattes).

Photo credit: Kate Krueger

As I have mentioned before, one of the biggest blessings to arise from this blogging experience has been in reconnecting with old and very dear friends -- the kind where you can not talk or see each other for months or years and, in coming back together, can connect on an even deeper level.  I am truly honored and beyond grateful.  

One of these beautiful souls is a woman that I call my "heart twin" -- for many reasons beyond the fact that we were both born on the 27th of October (or, as my parents like to call it, 'the day that life began.').  I could go on and on about her lovely and compassionate heart (but she's heard it all from me before).  She, like me, is obsessed with books, and mentions of our favorites are regular occurrences in our emails.  This year, for our birthday, she sent me -- from almost 20,000 miles away -- a book that I have been beyond desperate to read: Daring Greatly, by one of my favorite researchers (and regular toliveboldly resource), Brene Brown.

While I have had the urge to just inhale the words (yes, it's that good), there is so much inspiration housed within the pages that I have been forcing myself to slow down, even reading some of the chapters twice while I underline and fill the margins with notes.  My mind is percolating with inspiration, and my heart is challenged by her call to vulnerability and authenticity.  

Instead of writing my usual post, I wanted to limit my words and share with you Brene's inspiration for Daring Greatly, by a man who was also, believe it or not, born on the 27th of October.  I have read it at least a dozen times and each time it speaks to me in a different way (oftentimes, moving me to tears).  I would love to hear your thoughts, my dearest friends, and hope that it inspires you, as well. Have a beautiful weekend, and remember to be kind to yourselves.

"The Man in the Arena"

"Citizenship in a Republic"

Theodore Roosevelt

April 23, 1910 * Paris, France 

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out 

how the strong man stumbles, 

or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.

The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,

whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood;

who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again.

because there is no effort without error and shortcoming;

but who does actually strive to do the deeds;

who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions,

who spends himself in a worthy cause;

who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement,

and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly..."

oh the places we'll go

Jill McDonald via Positive Inkling

As I continue to blog, I am learning bits and pieces about myself.  For example, I have learned that I need to either write in silence (not even the beautiful harmonies of my favorite musicians can intrude) or inside of the white noise found only in the busiest of cafes.  I have learned that it takes days to seek out inspiration and hours to write and edit a post -- lovingly pouring over every word, every reflection (most commonly about learning to love ourselves through reflection and wellness), and, still, the habit to negatively criticize myself for poor writing or, more commonly, for being "not enough" in a post rears is ugly head... forcing me to challenge that self-doubt and actually live out the words that I write (for that I am eternally grateful).  This blog has inspired deeper reflection, more authentic living and the necessity to be patient with myself (and my body).  And, again, for that, I am undeniably, eternally, forever in debt to you all.

From you, I would ask for patience, as well -- as I transition from the Seattle transplant who has all the time in the world to read, write, workout and reflect to the real-world me, with distractions, stressors and, as you have read, the human frailty of the common cold.  This is where the rubber meets the road, where the desire to learn more, read more, reflect more is met with the need to pay bills, sleep and schedule life in.  As I said in last week's post, toliveboldly will be regularly updated each Friday with lovely little tidbits scattered in throughout the week for added flavor.

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This past week, I asked my twitter followers for suggestions for this week's blog posting, and thank goodness for their brilliance, as their suggestions provided plenty of reflective meat for me to chew on!

Little backstory... When I entered college as a freshman, I began my fall semester as a pre-med student.  I had, for years, created an image in my head of myself as a pediatrician or family practitioner (funny, even then, I knew that the hardcore elements of medicine would be too much for me...) and, when the pre-med advisors told us that only 1/3 of us would graduate with a pre-med concentration, I was sure that that would be me.  Obviously, we know how that turned out... 

I discovered, about halfway through my spring semester, that, while I most certainly could have lived out the 8-10+ years of med school and residency (gulp)... medicine was not my greatest passion.  And so I found myself taking classes in what is actually a true passion of mine -- the always intriguing field of human behavior.  I assumed that I was meant (see what I get when I assume?!) to be a therapist -- after all, isn't that what psychology majors are built for?  But this past year, after years on a path built for a therapy practice and six months into a graduate program for just that, I realized that I had built my path on a faulty assumption.  After withdrawing, I was left with the question... if not this, then what am I meant to do? 

I am continually fascinated by our society's concept of a career path.  In a world where the average person will change jobs every five years, we hold to the idea that we are meant for one career and built to see it through for the 30+ years that we reside in the working world.  We continue to ask children, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"  We perpetuate the concept that whatever they choose - a policeman, a doctor, a dancer - will be what they are for the majority of their adult lives... almost as if that is the whole of the adult identity. But, while that may have been our nation's reality for previous generations and is actually how some individuals work best, for the majority of us, it will be an ever-changing, ever-evolving part of our lives. In fact, the transitions in our lives necessitate this evolution.  Just as the recent graduate wrestles with the question of "what next?" -- so too is the new retiree faced with the question of purpose: "How am I going to spend my time?  Where am I going to focus my passion?  What have I always wanted to do?" But, whether we are driven to find the one career that we can sink into for years or seemingly bounce from experience to experience, I believe that our career, our work, our "what I am I meant to do?" is not so much about defining our existence but about cultivating our truest selves and living out our life's purpose.

After withdrawing from my graduate program, I dove headfirst into answering the question of "what am I meant to do?"  I restructured my resume, I interviewed for positions I had never considered before, and I worked in fields that I would never have imagined for myself.  And, while I'll admit that I still feel far from knowing exactly where I would like to go in my career or how to get there, these experiences of reinvention were revealing and transformative.  I have learned that I have strengths, passions, things that get my fire burning and challenge me in a way that transcends my field of employment.  I have learned that there is power in community, both positive and negative, and I have since been more attuned to its effect.  I have felt certain elements resonate with my authentic self and others noisily grind in protest against it.  I have grown through actively seeking out new experiences as well as focusing inward to reflect on my deeper desires, goals, and priorities.

While, for me, my questions are, as of late, directed towards my future career path, my instinct is that this reflection is a transcendent part of life, one that can be applied to the future just as much as to how I am going to live out my purpose, my priorities, and my values in the present.  Our life's purpose -- which I would also define as our signature presence -- is more than what we do, it's who we are in this moment and what we impart, in our authenticity, to the world.

Our purpose, our understanding of it, and how it is lived out in the present moment is, with reflection, always changing, always growing -- the elements of our signature presence revealed and refined.  What about for you?  How are do you see your purpose -- your strengths, inclinations, passions and authentic self -- revealed?  How has it shaped your career aspirations or choices? How have you seen your signature presence revealed and refined?

Want to connect outside of toliveboldly?  Email me at toliveboldly at gmail dot com!

Have a beautiful weekend, my wonderful friends, and remember to be kind to yourself!