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 -->

intention

"The Constitution only guarantees the American people 

the right to pursue happiness. 

You have to catch it yourself."  

.:Benjamin Franklin:.

Last month, as we rang in the new year, I wrote about the role of happiness in our lives and creating a small, manageable set of goals with the intention of making room for more happiness and joy.  I began, just as Gretchen Rubin did in her book, The Happiness Project, setting goals that would enliven and energize my daily life.  Working out, sleeping more, de-cluttering my home to make room for more joy (not to mention the clarity that comes with a de-cluttered space).  

Honestly, while I was deeply enthused and excited about the possibilities of creating a "happiness practice," I had no idea that, with my new practice, I would be setting in motion a personal theme for 2013.  Only one month into 2013, I can say that this year has already brought with it an intensity that has challenged my deepest intentions to think positively, make healthy and whole-hearted decisions, and be courageous in my daily life.  And, I'm not alone.  In a moment in history where Americans ages 18-33 are reporting significantly higher levels of stress than their older counterparts, the circumstances of everyday life have the power to wear a person down.

Last week, as I caught up with my brother in Boston, he said, "You know, every time I get caught up on somebody's life in our family, it seems like our circumstances are trying to one-up each other in terms of how hard they can be.  At the moment, I'd say your life is in the lead." I laughed and reminded him that, in the scheme of things (or, as my mom raised us to think, on the scale of human tragedy), the circumstances of the moment have very little impact on how ridiculously joy-filled my (very blessed) life is.  I mean... I get to live an adventure-filled, passion-igniting and gratitude-increasing life alongside my best friend in the world and with the overwhelming love and support of a freakishly amazing family.  And the adversity of the moment can do little to change that.

This weekend, my sweetheart and I watched the film Happy, which chronicles the lives of individuals around the world and explores what makes us, as humans, truly happy (like I said, a completely unintentional continuation of this years' theme).  Scientists have found that, while genetics determine, on average, 50% of our happiness levels, our life circumstances determine a mere 10% of our overall happiness.  The remaining forty percent?!  This is made up of our intentional behavior - the positive practices that we have put in place to increase our happiness.  They identify six universal elements of happiness: 

Play

Practicing gratitude

Compassion and altruism

Connection to community

Mindfulness (they call this a "flow state")

Exploring something new

Consider this a monthly check-in.  What intentional practices have you put in place this year?  Take stock of the goals you have set for yourself. Where are you in reaching these goals?  

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) -

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.

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

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!

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.

"should"

Stop "should-ing" yourself.  I could NOT have said it better.

With love, 

A perpetual "should-er"

when things fall apart

Good evening, my beautiful friends!  I hope that you had a lovely Labor Day weekend and are settling sweetly into another week.  This past weekend, my dearest and I had a full weekend, traveling to Phoenix for a couple of days for an extended-family Labor Day picnic followed up with a hike through the Lava Tubes just north of Flagstaff!  It was so lovely to get out and do something active on such a beautiful weekend, especially after a whirlwind couple of days down south.  Plus, it was strenuous enough to definitely count for a workout!  What about you?!

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

Via ModCloth

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One of my recent subjects of contemplation over the past few weeks (yes, I know... there are quite a few!) has been about what happens when the decision you've made, the effort you've invested or the changes you've begun seem to have been in vain.  You can't see a result, you've hit a wall, you've failed (or at least convinced yourself that you have).  For me, there is an ingrained fear within... that I'll make a mistake, end up disappointed, or feel as though I have failed.  And there is a survival instinct within me that tells me to hide, to stay small, to choose only the paths that are assured and known.  A little voice speaks, saying, "Don't make a mess, don't make a change.  You may want more out of life, but you don't know how it will turn out.  Stay where you know." Fortunately, there is also a courageous voice, one that SHOUTS to be bold, make mistakes, and choose the messiness of life in its fullness.

The truth is that bold choices sometimes leave us prostrate, face-down on the floor, as we've tripped and fallen, made a mistake or "failed."  Maybe your business plan, the one you've put your blood, sweat, and tears into, halts to a stop.  Maybe you've made drastic changes to your lifestyle, quit smoking, changed your diet, made daily exercise a priority, whatever it might be... and still don't see results.  Maybe a relationship ends.  Maybe you wake up one day and realize that the career-plan you've envisioned for yourself isn't what you're meant for.  With bold living comes the risk of failure.  In an attempt to live more courageously, more fully, we are bound to make mistakes.  We are hurt, disappointed, discouraged.

But the greater truth is that these mistakes are the seeds of beautiful, courageous fruit (sounds delicious, doesn't it?).  Our mistakes, failures, rejections - whatever it is that you want to call them - they are gold for learning and growth.  We are supposed to make mistakes, it's part of the human existence.  Even the fabulously wise (nerd alert!) Albus Dumbledore said, "I make mistakes like the next man.  In fact, being -- forgive me -- rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger." 

It's not easy to get up and try again. I am an intense perfectionist -- every mistake, every failure, every disappointment... it knocks me down hard (sometimes for days or weeks... honestly). I take my disappointments to heart, and it takes a huge step of internal courage to shake it off.   And there is fear in that.  To change my career path, my home, my lifestyle -- there is fear in that risk.  What if I don't succeed?  What if I struggle financially, emotionally, physically?  There are days when my new commitment to wellness doesn't seem like it's doing anything.  There are days when I don't know if I will reach my career goals.  But, ultimately, I have the choice between living a life of fear - scared to make a mistake, scared to take a risk - or to live boldly, courageously, wholly.  Each mistake, failure, rejection, wall you hit, is a building block for success.  As Henry Ford says, "The only real mistake is the one from which we learn nothing."  I know that it might seem cliche, but positive change creates positive results.  Bold living means taking a risk - facing the fear of failure or disappointment - but it's this bold living that creates courageous success.  

Whatever positive, bold moves you are making -- remember that you are courageous and strong, strong enough to fail big.  Let go of that fear.  Step into the possibilities for greater learning and growth.  Make some huge mistakes and surprise yourself with your success, even when it doesn't look like you thought it would.  

"Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor."

Truman Copote

Jay Roeder via Positive Inkling

a change in space

First of all, have I mentioned how undeniably humbled and grateful and excited I am that you have decided to join me in living boldly?!  This experience has been so incredible so far -- inspiring, challenging, thought-provoking and, above all, connecting.  It's been so beautiful hearing your stories, reconnecting with old friends and family, and learning about what inspires, touches and challenges YOU.  I want to know more!  So please email, message, comment, tweet (@kkatie_kins)!

A little backstory about me -- in college, I graduated with a degree in psychology, and, I'll be totally honest, I am a complete nerd when it comes to the fascinating world of human interaction.  Anyhow, one of the phenomenon that you learn about in psych classes is that of place-based learning (I am sure there are other, more eloquent names for it).  Essentially, researchers have found that there is a distinct connection between location and memory.  For example, say you learned all about the fascinating world of biology in room Reiss 103?  Your memory of those lectures are integrally linked with that space, and you will test better at the end of the semester if your final is held in Reiss 103.

Like that phenomenon (stay with me now), I am slowly discovering how a change in location or habit can create the necessary shift for deeper growth, new inspiration and renewed energy.  It's almost as if sometimes, when sticking to the status quo of our lives, we trap ourselves, allowing our energy to become stagnant, hanging out in the rut that we have created for ourselves.  There is no more room to grow, no inspiration to try something new or different.  The contentment we have found (which, by the way, is a beautiful gift!) morphs slowly into monotony.  But life is not limited to Reiss 103.  Just as in a college course the semester ends and you travel to a new room with a new professor for new knowledge, there are times in our lives when, to continue our self-growth, to know ourselves and our world deeper, we are called to move.

I don't mean move in the sense of a move to a new city or country (though sometimes, that's what it takes) -- what I mean is to get moving, to change something small, to knock your oh-so-regulated universe a little out of whack for the sake of self-growth.  Change your workout routine.  Stop at a different coffee shop on the way to work.  Take a class you've always wanted to take.  Take a vacation (you remember what those are, right?).  Try being a morning person.  Changing our habits, our location, has a way of changing our perspective, allowing those moments of inspiration to trickle in.  While this needed change was indeed an inspiration for my move out of Seattle, I have found that every little change in location, surrounding or habit has a way of changing my outlook and energy.

But change is scary, it takes risk and a trip into the unknown.  It is guaranteed to shake things up, to shake YOU up.  But that's where it gets beautiful.  I recently read a reflection on the idea of "fitting out" -- rather than fitting in.  Sometimes its our fear of what others might think -- or, for me, the eternal "should-girl" self-judgment -- that holds us back from making a change, denying ourselves the opportunity to recharge our lives and discover something new (even if it's the ugly, mucky stuff that comes with self-growth).

My life right now is full of the big changes... new town, new job (hopefully), new not-so-long-distance relationship norms, new place to call home.  And, while those things are certainly shaking things up in my life (just ask my sweetheart -- I've shed so many tears, they could fill a lake), they are also revealing such incredible new avenues!  Passions that I'm just now giving myself space to explore, room to transform my habits and health, and mindful moments to discover self.  Not to mention the excuse to go a little crazy, be a little emotional and experience the free-fall feel of the who-the-heck-knows-what's-coming-next.

What about you?!  Where are you creating the space to grow, change, discover?

There have been moments in my life when to look in the face of change is just overwhelming, when the strain and stressors of life have taken it out of you to the point that one more change is too exhausting to bear.  Be mindful, give yourself the gift of rest.  Discover yourself in that gift.

But, if it hasn't been a while since someone kicked your backside into gear, how are you going to move?  Make it small, make it doable and forget the excuses!  I'd love to hear from you, learn from you, gain some inspiration and wisdom from you!  Maybe in joining together, we can be courageous and live boldly together.

(**For the record, I needed to get out of my inspiration rut today, and this post is being written from a new, previously unexplored coffee shop in downtown Flagstaff... which makes some killer soy chai lattes, in case you were curious.**)

how lovely.

What a beautiful find from Heidi Bee Designs.

Inspires me to live with an open heart!

morning inspiration with a kick of caffeine.

Found this sweet mug on the KIN SHIP website.

How awesome would it be to wake up to this kick in the pants?

What are your goals?  What's stopping you?

"Whatever you want to do, do it now.  There are only so many tomorrows."

- Michael Landon -

steve jobs

"Your time is limited, so don't waste it on living someone else's life.  Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking.  Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice.  And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.  They somehow already know what you truly want to become.  Everything else is secondary."

-Steve Jobs-

the launch

After a few days of ferry rides, hikes, swims in the lake and more-than-I-could-ever-need S'mores-roasting, it's an interesting feeling being back amongst the comforts of home.  I am now caught in the no-man's-land between vacation and the official launch.  Three more days until the big move, and I find myself caught up in the moment.  I am soaking up every minute of family time, reveling in every hug (they seem bigger, more meaningful these days), and bracing myself for the random moments of holy-crap-I'll-miss-this-place (and these beautiful, hilarious people) emotion.

I've worked my last day, had my last therapy session (after 2 and a half beautiful, tearful years), and laughed and cried my way through our last (for now) full-family dinner, with both parents, all three siblings and significant others (a true feat for our once fragmented family o' divorce).

It takes me by surprise every time I think about it.  In three very short days, I take the big leap into the unknown.  I am launched, with the few, meaningful belongings and words of wisdom that I have collected, into the mystery.  There is so much to do, so much to soak in, so much that I want to hold in and so much that I am excited to experience.  I am lacking the words to capture it all.

Risk is frightening.  But I am reminded to be brave and to trust my intuition, remembering the depths of support found in those who love me.

fiery

This evening, I was speaking with a very dear friend about who we desire to be -- I don't mean the career aspirations, though that can definitely be a part of personal purpose.  What I mean is the essence of who we are, the energy we exude, what we want to authentically bring to the table.  It's not about some kind of mask or changing into someone different - that, in fact, would be against the whole purpose - but actually who you, in your authentically, beautiful, sometimes-broken self, want to be.

Last September, I entered into a graduate program in the Seattle area with the goal of obtaining my masters in counseling.  And, while I ultimately decided this past February to withdraw from the program (that's another story, which, rest-assured, will be revealed), the program itself was life-changing, self-altering and soul-freeing -- and an experience that has led me to this place.

While I was there, I met some of the most incredible people I have ever had the blessing to encounter.  Smart, strong, self-reflective, these souls are authentic, courageous and passionate -- and set on changing the world, or even simply themselves (which, let's face it, is a miracle in and of itself), to be more compassionate, reflective.  These encounters -- along with a heck of a lot of self-reflection -- inspire me to live boldly.

For me?  I want to be fiery, strong, courageous, brave.  I want to be woman to behold -- not in intimidation or fear -- but one with purpose, strength, boldness and compassion.  I want to love deeply and wholly.  I want to relinquish fear and step into growth, change and a full life.  I want to inspire... myself.  I want to be my authentic self, confident, humble, and joyful -- to allow myself and others to love themselves and care for themselves.  

These are not parts of me that I have to conjure up, they are not foreign pieces that I somehow need to use to mask my insecurities or failings.  They are me.  Within me, I have the strength to be this woman. I am this woman.

Believe me, as a perpetual should-girl, do-gooder and live-in-the-box-they-made-for-me resident, I know how hard this is.  Everyday, everyday, I work to overcome the self-doubt and external judgment (real or imaginary) that presses against who I am.  And sometimes, I feel an internal caving. But, at the end of the day, I am the only one who gets to be me.  And I'm kind of liking the fiery woman I see.

* k *

fitting for today.

A reminder from Rhi, one of my favorite freelance illustrators 

(make sure you check out her ellolovey collection on Etsy). 

We are so afraid of risk-taking -- choosing to stick with the commonplace and known instead of free-falling into adventure.  In a lot of ways, it's easier to know what you can expect, even if it's painful, than to dive into something different and not know the outcome, not know the kind of pain that you might endure.

It seems that someone out there is set on reminding me to continue taking risks -- but those risks don't need to be big ones.  My risk today?  Choosing to trust in my own decisions instead of letting what others might think determine my own worth.  It took a total of 30 minutes (for those who aren't eternal ruminators, it would probably take a lot less time) -- and a whole lot of internal reminders.  But, for me, it was a risk, something out of the ordinary -- and, oddly, it gave me a boost of energy and a depth of confidence that calmed me.  

What risks are you taking?  What risks do you wish you could take?

* k *

why, hello there.

I am so grateful, so humbled that you have happened upon my little blog.  I imagine the best way to start what I hope will be a long and beautiful friendship is by simply introducing myself... yes?  If only it were so simple...

In a little over a week, I begin what I have recently heard referred to (and totally adore) as the free fall.  The big risk.  The adventure.  After a year and a half of long-distance love, I am moving to Flagstaff, Arizona to join my honey in the adventure of a lifetime.  Diving into the unknown, making waves and creating change.  It's exhilarating, terrifying, anxiety-provoking and adrenaline-producing!

I am a should-girl.  The one who has walked the straight and narrow, picked the path of least resistance, a life of black and white when there is an exciting world of colors out there.  But, after a beautiful year of spiritual freedom and self-growth, not to mention the confused and turmoil-soaked experience of moving back home, I find myself actively fighting the guilt instinct and turning to what I truly desire for myself, a life of boldness.

My desire for this endeavor is to connect, entertain, and hopefully engage in a conversation about what it means to live boldly - through health, wellness, risk-taking and true freedom.  You'll find photos, inspiration, reflection and (hopefully) entertaining musings -- but I want to learn from you, too! Email, comment, connect.

Here's to a year of living boldly!

* k *