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.

a beautiful conversation

To my dearest friends --

I wanted to pass this article along to you -- it is a strikingly beautiful piece about race, respect, history and humanity -- "Why I Don't Want to Talk About Race."  As always, I would love to know your thoughts, reactions, emotions and reflections!  If you enjoyed it, please pass it on!

Have a wonderful weekend!

Me.

the gift of siblings

Smack dab between Mother's Day and Father's Day, here is an article that celebrates the crazy ones that make us who we are, see us as we are, and love us as we are.

"With a friend, I have to be more articulate.  With my sisters (and brother), I can be my most primal self: inarticulate, childishly emotional.  I'll have a fight with my sister and say, 'O.K., I know we're in a fight, but I need your advice on something,' and we can just put the fight on hold. They're the only people in the world you can be your worst self with and they'll still accept you."

one kitchen table at a time

Eat real food.

Not too much.

Mostly plants.

-Michael Pollan-

The food that we eat is changing.  Genetically modified produce and processed foods blanket our grocery story shelves - playing a role in over 85% of the foods in conventional grocery stores.  And, without awareness, we are allowing these foods to change the way that we eat, the way that we live, the way that our bodies function and respond.  The incidence of childhood food allergies are skyrocketing. The impact on our environment is irreparable.  And agri-commerce companies don't want you to know.

But things are changing.  Just this past week, Chipotle revealed its list of GMO ingredients, announcing plans to phase out their use in restaurants nationwide.  There are dozens of GMO-labeling bills working their way through our legislative systems, and Connecticut proved victorious in passing their own GMO-labeling bill just this past week.  Nationwide activism continues to put pressure on Washington to repeal the Monsanto Protection Act.  And countries around the world are rejecting the use of GMO crops, as evidenced by Hungary's recent burning of 1,000 acres of GMO corn.

We don't have to be blind consumers.  Our Food Industry relies on our continued support... and, with greater knowledge, more awareness and a commitment to the health of ourselves, our children and our world, we have the power to take a stand, one kitchen table at a time.

In honor of today's International March Against Monsanto, the world's most prominent agri-commerce giant and creators of Round-Up Ready crops and pesticides, I wanted to pass along two sides of the story.  Read up.  Watch the video.  Do your own research. Stand for real food.

READ --> "Listening to the Women of Monsanto."

WATCH -->

love's forms

This past Saturday, my sweetheart and I celebrated a belated Valentine's Day.  True to the values of our relationship, we made it low key, chatting leisurely over a cup of coffee and settling in for pizza at a neighborhood hangout.  While I have never been one for the classic romantic Valentine's Day celebration, I have always loved, well, LOVE.  I am fascinated by relationship, captivated by deep vulnerability, and encouraged as I watch families, partners and friends walk through broken hearts, tension and intense challenge.  I am enlivened by the joy found only in authentic relationship, deeply moved by displays of genuine affection, and grateful everyday for the great loves in my life.

Whether or not you celebrate Valentine's Day, whether it's with a partner, good friends, or on your own, and despite the red and white distractions perched on store shelves, for me, the day provides an opportunity to reflect on love in all its forms.

I have been ridiculously lucky in love.  I'm not talking about romantic love, though my many years of singleness have certainly paid off with my very handsome honey.  

For me, my great loves, my true loves... well, they're my family.  Hilarious and warm, my story only makes sense in the context of their ridiculous humor and deep and unconditional love.  I don't even know if there are words to express how true and deep and foundational my love is for them.  From them, I inherited the most foundational parts of who I am: my humor, my compassion, my ability to be angry and love deeply simultaneously.  From them I learned that I am wholly and unconditionally loved, priceless, worthy.  In no way are we perfect, cursed by the same pain, separation and heartache that most families face, our story deepened by grief and loss, my parents' separation, and our individual challenges.  But the love is deep, the forgiveness real, and the gratitude unending.  In a month where sappy romantic love is idealized, the fairy tale ending - chock full of Bachelor-esque grandiosity - glorified, it is the simplicity of our family's love that leaves me speechless.

I am strikingly aware that what we have is rare, that family is chosen and not always born. And my deepest hope is that you too get to share your life and your love with your great loves, whoever they might be.

P.S. This is where I come from.

holding gratitude

 

 

"Piglet noticed that though he had a Very Small Heart,

it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude."

-A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh-

 

I am grateful.

 

In the midst of a crazy week, hours cut at work, insurance benefits lost, and the anxiety that surrounds the question of What Next?, I am grateful.

 

For opportunity.

For the undeniable blessing of the basics.

For a family that spans space, time, and bloodlines.

For hours upon hours of The Office on Netflix.

For the ability to ask What Next?

For more time to write.

For a sometimes-too-full belly.

For a warm home filled with loving, warm bodies.

For cuddles.  And hugs.  And sweet words of affection.

For more time to read.

For a loving, hilarious sweetheart who understands me.

For a comforting savings account.

For growth.

For what is known.

For what is unknown and possible.

For more time to workout.

For health and happiness.

For passion.

For sitting in the anxiety of what might be.

For phone calls.

For plane tickets.

For compassion, understanding and deep love.

For rainy days that remind me of home.

For a clean bill of health.

For deeper learning and joyful exploration.

For adventure.

For more things than I could list in a lifetime.

 

What about you?

 

 



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.

love embodied.

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?

a little light for your day

As you'll see, this is not the typical video that I would post here at toliveboldly -- But I received a lovely reminder about this beautiful video from one of the greatest men in my life (my brother)... which just reminded me about how wonderful he is and how blessed I am to be his older sister.  It encapsulates so much about the human reality, love, death, family, life and joy... I hope that you enjoy this little bit of light.

doing the work

"Problems do not go away.  They must be worked through or else they remain, forever a barrier to the growth and development of the spirit."

The Road Less Traveled

M. Scott Peck

This past week has been a particularly difficult one for blog writing. Each time I would sit down at my computer to begin the process of brainstorming, writing and editing (and re-writing and re-editing), I found myself without inspiration.  And, while I could easily chalk it up to writers block or just plain laziness, the truth is that it was just a plain old difficult week.

Since moving to Flagstaff, I have found myself full of energy, excited to create change, live boldly, and explore the world of wellness.  I have been writing, reading, working out and... very slowly... learning how to cook healthful foods.  I have been able to battle those tricky self-critical thoughts with joyful exuberance and hopeful optimism.  And, while I have still been working out on a daily basis and maintaining my healthy diet, this week has been... different.  I have had moments of complete self-doubt, exhaustion and total vulnerability, fighting an internal battle between fear and courage.  Part of me cried out to return to a boxed-in version of myself, to give up and give in to my familiar counterparts - guilt and shame.  The other part of me battled back, fighting tooth and nail to stay strong, remain confident and trust the process. 

In essence, I was doing the work.

I just recently finished (as in... today) the book that I have been reading for almost a month - The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck.  My gorgeous and brilliant sister, two years my junior and one of the most honest, authentic and passionate women I have ever known, has been (not so subtly) suggesting that I read the book for almost three years now.  My mother, a sponge for wisdom and knowledge, followed suit, urging me to borrow her well-loved copy of the book.  I am not sure why I fought the suggestion for so long, but I am certain that there was a wisdom to why I waited until this moment to finally open the pages.

As it was my mother's copy of the book, loved over, ragged and missing its cover, I took notes in my journal, copying down passages word for word that inspired me as I read.  In looking the passages over, the passage above struck a chord in me: problems do not go away.  Do the work.

Perhaps it was the emotional result of the past week or the conversations that I have had with friends over the course of the past few days, but, whatever it was, I am reminded that this lifelong journey of self-discovery, positive self-change and internal opening is one of work.  It is inevitably one of pain, grunting, and fighting. But joy is its reward.  As Peck says,

"Move out or grow in any dimension and pain as well as joy will be your reward.  A full life will be full of pain.  But the only alternative is not to live fully or not to live at all."

The growing pains are just that... painful.  The honest truth is that, whether we choose to look at them, our negative patterns, deep-seated anxieties, and familial/cultural issues play out in our relationships, even in the one that we have with ourselves.  Prior to leaving Seattle, I saw a therapist for almost three years, and I can't tell you how much I have grown from the challenge of therapy.  But, there is still so much work to be done, so many internal assumptions to be challenged and negative patterns to be explored.  And, through all of it, freedom to be found.

To be truly compassionate, to love deeply, to live fully and wholly, we have to do the work.  If you've been waiting to make a commitment to yourself, don't waste another minute.  The war is full of fear and heartache, but there is liberation and joy found, as well.  Know that you are not alone, that there are others along the way, battling alongside you, allies in the struggle.  You are courageous and worth the fight.  

"Courage is not in the absence of fear; it is in the making of action in spite of fear, the moving out against the resistance engendered by fear into the unknown and into the future."

The Road Less Traveled, M. Scott Peck

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

On a personal note: If you are currently looking into finding a therapist, please do your research.  Look for reviews, ask trusted family/friends and get recommendations from your community.  Ask questions.  Not all therapists are created (trained) equal.  If you are in the Seattle metropolitan area, please do not hesitate to contact me for recommendations.

to love

While reading M. Scott Peck's book The Road Less Traveled (Why have I not read this book before?! Just goes to show you that my sister has some crazy wisdom - having recommended the book to me for the past three years...), I found this lovely and challenging reflection on how we love our partners.  I just knew that I had to share:

"The Prophet"

The Prophet of Kahlil Gabran, p. 15-16

But let there be spaces in your togetherness,

And let the winds of the heavens dance between you

Love one another, but make not a bond of love:

Let it rather be like a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.

Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf

Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,

Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music

Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.

For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.

And stand together yet not too near together:

For the pillars of the temple stand apart,

And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.