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My Mother’s Daughter

posted 30th September 2010    Written by: Marian    CATEGORY: All Posts, Family, Job/Career/Work, Love/Relationships, Marian, Season 3

When I graduated from Davidson and started that ever-so-fun job search, my mother read my cover letters, used and abused her contacts, reminded me to write thank you notes and was generally my one-woman cheerleader.

My mom has always been an out-of-the-box kind of thinker. Don’t just send a resume, if you’re applying for a publicity position (which I was at the time), send them a PR plan. If there’s something you want and you fail the first time, just look at it from a different angle.

A few years ago the family dog, Dillon, ran away while at doggy camp (yes, doggy camp). My family was on vacation and couldn’t do a hell of a lot about the situation. Long story short, my mother was a whirlwind of activity. She put up posters, called newspapers and community centers, even made a poster of Dillon’s face that the family put on the back of our car. My dad and her plotted where Dillon had been seen on a map and because of this she eventually found Dillon, despite her being lost for two weeks and had apparently been hit by a car. Twice.

And just this year I was held in British customs for two days and sent to a detention facility. Very scary stuff and not a ton I could have done to get out of the situation. I was being deported and that was that. Except my mom stepped in. I got a very powerful  media man to speak on my behalf. She organized all the things immigration said I was lacking and got them to reevaluate my case. Unfortunately, I was still denied entry. But then mommy called the Big Bad Immigration Officer directly and 20 minutes later I was free.

This is the kind of woman my mother is. She’s like a dog with a freaking bone – she just doesn’t give up.

She’s also pretty interesting. She graduated high school at 16, ended up as a radio DJ and eventually a reporter on CNN. She’s published a book. Went to the Sahara to dig up some plane. Lived in Syria for a month so she could improve her Arabic. Is in Iceland at the moment speaking at some conference or another. She’s basically exactly who I want to be.

Out of all the things my mom has instilled in me, it’s that sense of determination is what she really passed on. She recently asked me after I accomplished something awesome (can’t even remember what it was now), “How did you get to be such a go-getter?” Um…. Where do you think, woman?!

That said, we disagree on almost everything (mostly just to disagree), religion being the big one. I definitely disappointed her in that department, but I believe what I believe and hopefully that never becomes a huge issue between us.

Our relationship has definitely not been easy. I went through a phase in high school where I wanted nothing to do with her, but I guess that’s teenagers, right? We definitely get along better when I’m not living in her house. That said, it doesn’t mean I don’t miss her like crazy.

And as for the rest of my family – I love them to bits. My three brothers are pretty awesome, my dad is hilarious. Meaning home was always crazy. Back when the two older boys (I’m the oldest) were in high school, their friends would come over every Friday to have Nerf gun fights and eat all the food in the house. Anytime I’d bake you could be damn sure it would be gone within in hour. They’d play video games loud or run around outside acting like crazy people. Now they play beer pong on the kitchen island and have girlfriends.

My family is completely incapable of having a normal meal. The conversation gets progressively louder as dinner goes on until we’re all screaming at each other – but in a totally loving way. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because of this.

We don’t sing kumbaya or talk about our feelings but I’d consider my family to be pretty tight. I do adore them. I just can’t live with them. Partly because I feel like a child in that house, partly because it’s too freaking loud and I can’t think, partly because we drive each other crazy, but I did grow up in an environment that was 99% Awesome.

My family doesn’t particularly know or care about my QLC and that’s okay. I think my parents are just waiting for me to get a real job and start being an Adult, but I know they’re proud of me and want me to be happy and do things and have adventures. Hopefully I can follow through.

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Showdown with the Bogeyman

posted 29th September 2010    Written by: Nikki    CATEGORY: All Posts, Life Lesson, Nikki, Season 3

I am scared of the dark.  I will sit staring wide-eyed into the night hoping that my pupils grow to a cat-like diameter and allow me to see more than what my terrible imagination creates out of various shades of black and blacker.

I have been known to check not only under my bed, but behind dressers and in small linen closets, places no human could possibly ever fit, before turning out the lights.  I have to convince myself, beyond any doubt, that there is not a killer waiting to pounce once my eyes are closed.

This is embarrassing to admit, since I’m almost 30 and therefore an actual, certified grown-up.

I’m also scared of commitment, which is a much more adult fear to have and therefore not nearly as humiliating.  However, it’s pretty typical in our generation, so I kind of feel like a jerkface admitting it.  All the cool kids are afraid of commitment.

Except that’s not really true.  The coolest people I know have committed to something or someone.  I think that if you go into it with eyes open and gut leading the way, it is a strong person who is able to say, “this is what I want and I know this One Thing is worth not having all those possible Other Things out there.”  That certainty kind of blows my mind.

I have never felt that sure about anything.

Which is why it’s scary – it’s less a fear of commitment and more a fear of committing to the wrong thing.  A fear of settling.  A fear of missing out on something that’s good for me because I’m just not sure, and of settling for something that’s not great for me because I’ve never been sure.

The whole world is open to me, there are too many options, and if my gut doesn’t feel strongly about anything, I have no compass with which to navigate through them all. I’m in the dark, straining to see more than shadows and trying to keep my imagination in check.

And because of that lack of certainty in myself, I have another completely unreasonable fear: the fear of what others think.  They go hand-in-hand, merrily skipping down the field of my psyche, trampling daisies and positivity.  I start to question my choices and doubt myself, and my brain fuels it, building a bogeyman who grins at me with his wicked gleaming teeth and tells me what kind of a failure and shiftless lazy whiner everyone thinks I am, and how I’m never going to get the life I want so I might as well settle for just OK.

I know he’s full of shit but he’s so persuasive.  I want to hide under the covers but I know that when he appears, slinking out of the dark corners of my mind, the only thing to do is turn on the light.

I tell myself:  I have time.  I make good decisions.  I will know when something is right.  If I make a mistake, it’s never really a mistake.  I can have my best life.  I have friends who love me.  I am a good, smart person.  I am worth love and respect. I remind myself of all the things in life I’ve achieved that I’m proud of, and all the instances where I’ve proved stronger than I thought I was.  Poof!  In the light, the bogeyman who seemed so menacing a second ago is nothing but a pile of clean clothes in the corner that I’ve neglected to put away.

Fear will always be lurking behind that winter coat in the back of my closet, waiting to come out on dark days.  But I refuse to let it terrorize me.  I know that, as much courage as it takes to face it, all I really have to do is shine a little light to see that there is nothing to be afraid of.

{photo source: ~borzikako~}

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Grey’s Anatomy, The Bachelor(ette), and Potluck Sunday

posted 28th September 2010    Written by: Doniree    CATEGORY: Doniree, Family, Love/Relationships, Season 3

Every group of friends has its rituals.

Friday night girls’ nights.  Monthly bonfires or once-a-summer camping or rafting trips.  Weekly happy hours or dinners, brunches or TV shows.  Looks like it often centers around food, huh?

My crew in Minnesota – years ago – had Grey’s Anatomy nights.  Like, to the point where we’d check in with everyone, every week – “Are you coming for Grey’s this week?” or “Hey, who’s hosting Grey’s this week?”  There’d be wine and beer and snacks and sometimes dinner.  In fact, at one point we even had Grey’s Bingo going, placing bets on first kisses and fights, breakups and breakdowns.  I remember a particularly close and saucy week the first time Callie and McSteamy hooked up.  Wait.  Maybe it was Addison and Alex.  I can’t remember.  Anyway, there was Grey’s night and it happened for a whole season and it was the one night each week you could COUNT on seeing everyone.

And then there was The Bachelorette.  I got into this one FIRST for the social aspect, as I have a particular distaste for reality TV.  I’ve tried.  I promise, I have.  And sometimes I get lost in a story line.  And ok, fine, I liked The Hills.  But, I NEVER got into reality TV shows and then there was The Bachelor or maybe it was the Bachelorette and there were girlfriends and Reality Steve and there was wine and cheese.  And gossip.  About the show, and the men and the girls.  About people we knew.  And it happened every week and it was that one time every week you could count on catching up with the girls.

And then there was Potluck Sunday.  I moved to Colorado in January of this past year, and my darling friend Jodi joined us this summer.  Jodi brought with her a history and tradition of Potluck Sundays that started in college and evolved from the first one – a sushi night – to the later ones with varying themes.

Jodi brought Potluck Sunday with her to Boulder, noting that Sunday often is a tough day of transitions out of the weekend and into the next week.

“Potluck inspires happiness,” she said.  ”What needs to be included in that day is a little family time– good food, made with love and adoration for cuisine, good company, support, laughter, companionship. I just wanted to create a space where we all could express or receive whatever we needed– if not on any other day, on one systematic day a week.”

And it’s awesome because every single week, you can count on the regulars.  And every single week, you can count on there being someone who’s visiting.  And almost as often, you can count on meeting someone who just moved to town.  We’ve been doing Potluck Sundays every week (just about) since sometime earlier summer.  It’s become a highlight of my week – a time where friends, new and old, can come together and create not only something delicious and nourishing, but can nurture relationships that are budding and growing.  Where we can catch up about work and life and love and laughter, where new recipes are tested on the most willing guinea pigs out there.

Where I have a place that feels like home and people that feel like family in a state that’s still got a little bit of that new car smell.

I feel extremely blessed to have met and connected with the people I have here in Colorado, my home-friends in Minnesota, and the friends that are all over the country and have that knack for picking up where you left off.  Whether it’s a scheduled Skype date or a weekly potluck, friend rituals and something you can count on – this is nourishment at it’s finest.

What time-honored traditions do you have with your friends?

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The Road Trip, Part 1

posted 27th September 2010    Written by: Molly Mahar    CATEGORY: Molly, Travel/Adventure

Coming to you live from The Road… I’m sitting in the passenger seat of Stella (the attention-getting vehicle in which we’re traversing the country) catching the last rays of South Dakotan sunshine, while the Big Man continues driving on I-90.  This is the first real stretch of major highway we’ve done; the majority of our time has been spent on, alternately, winding national park byways and gorgeous stretches of virtually abandoned two lane highways.

I have a feeling that everything looks the same out here, however–whether we’re speeding along on I-90 or not…   That could be my lack of knowledge of South Dakotan scenery, or just the truth about this part of Middle America.

Either way, the Road Trip has started!  We’re trying to make Minnesota today, to catch friends in Minneapolis tomorrow, family in Milwaukee/Chicago the rest of the week, and still have time to work, coach and write before I teach in Chicago on the 2nd.

I’m not going to make all of my blog posts about this trip, since I realize that my strategy for joy at the moment is fairy unusual.  I mean, seriously, who decides that living out of their car is fun? For a honeymoon?  And a self-funded business tour?  Well, crazy people, like the Big Man and I, who have establishing location independent businesses for the last 2 years (well, he has two and one’s been around for a long time), just so we can DO THIS.

I’m sure we won’t do it forever.  But for now, it’s the open road.  And this blog post?  It’s going to be full of details of the day-to-day thus far so you can imagine what I’m doing. And if you want to see pics and get random updates about what I’m up to in real time- Twitter is the best place for that!

Anyway…

It’s Day 7.  We’ve made it a week on the road.  Nothing has been stolen, and besides a large, itchy, and unknown welt on my ribcage (spider bite perhaps?) we’re in perfect health. A great start to a trip whose length depends on how much we’re enjoying ourselves!

I’ve driven through a double rainbow in the middle of a dusky rainstorm, seen a moose family in Big Sky, taken gobs of pictures in Yellowstone, went country dancing in Cody, Wyoming, watched the evening lighting ceremony at Mt. Rushmore (and heard the Governor recognize their troops in a very touching speech and movie), hiked in 90 degree weather in the Badlands, and driven exactly 1908.2 miles as of *now*.

So what have I been up to?

We stayed with my parents in Montana for a few nights.  We hiked with my Dad, the Big Man fished, and I hung out with my mum at the school where she teaches.  It was the perfect way to ease into working from the road- I held coaching calls, looking out at the mountains from the back deck, and we had unlimited wi-fi access for 3 entire days!  I can already tell, the guestrooms (and couches!) we’ve been offered around the country are going to be vital for keeping things under control. A home base, a shower, access to a kitchen and the Internet.

Funny how you take them for granted until you don’t have them…

(What’s that?  You have a guestroom?  In Boston?  In upstate New York?  In Atlanta?  In Virginia Beach?  In New Orleans?  Oh, of course we’d love to stay with you!  We even cook and bring wine… Shoot me an email.  We can go to yoga together and plan a tweet up!)

The rest of the time we’ve been boon-docking, which is basically pulling Stella off onto some tiny road in the dark and crossing our fingers no one cares.  And yes, this means, no toilets in case you were wondering.  But, I’m from Montana!  I know how to squat…  TMI?  ;)

So, we’ve spent several nights in Stella (sleeping in the Autohome topper, cozy beneath our down comforter), waking up in a marina in Idaho, surrounded by Wyoming pinnacles, or on the lonely back roads of the Black Hills.  We’re eating diner breakfasts, found by driving through small towns until we find the most happening place at 7:30 am.  Lunch and dinner have mostly been remnants of our Seattle kitchen- leftover crackers, fruit, sandwiches and old cans of tuna and a motley assortment of bottled beer.

Sound glamorous?  You’re right, it’s not. But it’s also perfect for this leg of the trip.   I’m still in beginner mode…  I’m learning what it takes to be a real nomad AND be an effective business owner and coach to my awesome clients.  I’m learning how to truly appreciate the small pleasures in life- the glimpses of beauty that I’m sometimes moving too fast to appreciate…  Like these…

Stormy Dusk light on Highway 2 in Eastern Washington

Sunset in Yellowstone Park, near the Cody Entrance

I’m still trying to figure out how to balance all the various needs and desires I have for this trip… I want to be dedicated to my morning pages and yoga mat AND I want to jump in the car right away to find coffee and a place to brush my teeth.   I want to stay connected to all of you online and not miss a beat with Stratejoy AND I want to take long backpack trips into mountain ranges I’ve never seen before.  I want to be a brilliant speaker, author, and most of all coach- making an impact for women all over the world- AND I want to be anonymous artist, writing for the love of it, while traveling back roads in search of adventure and colorful locals.

Mix in the unique needs and desires of my husband (haha, still getting a kick out of that word!) and you have the recipe for a lot of discussions, compromises, and the occasional, “I seriously don’t care! I have a headache!  I need to get online TODAY!  I don’t care!  YOU DECIDE!!”

But you know what?  That’s what this trip is about.

It’s about figuring out how to make it work for both of us.  Learning to live in the moment.  Giving up some of the control I like to hold onto about what’s happening next… Reaching out to YOU, wherever you happen to live, and figuring out how to get together so we can plot world domination over red wine or soy lattes.

So, that’s the update, Tribe.

Living and learning and hoping that I find a shower at least every other day…

p.s.  There is ONE spot left in the Get If Off the Ground Group, starting next Tuesday!  NEXT TUESDAY OCTOBER 5! And still a few for the Deliberate Living Group (which I’m personally really excited about).  Join me?  You and I (and 5 other radical gals) will get to talk on the phone once a week for 10 WEEKS! And kick some ass with supported forward movement.  And then we’ll have to have a slumber party and braid each other’s hair because we’re going to get that close…  It’s a good thing.  You’ll see!

p.p.s.  I’m starting the amazing  Declaration of You eCourse with Michelle Ward and Jessica Swift on October 25th!  A girls gotta do her own personal work, ya know?  Want to come along?  I’d love to see you over there, alongside me.  (Yes.  Affiliate Link.  I absolutely adore Michelle and Jess and know that whatever they put together is going to rock our socks off, so I’m simply thrilled to share with you… )

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Minimalism, Fun, and Finding a Connection

posted 26th September 2010    Written by: Lindsey    CATEGORY: All Posts, Life Lesson, Lindsey, Season 3, Spirituality, Travel, What I've Learned

“Ah, life is a gate, a way, a path to Paradise anyway, why not live for fun and joy and love…” - Big Sur by Jack Kerouac

Autumn fell quickly in Oklahoma and the shack we were living in didn’t have a bathroom. Once the frost set in, using a shovel in great outdoors as a toilet wasn’t very appealing. We were on a trip, “West” the only destination, so it only made sense to head that way.

I was broke and without work. My worldly possessions were stored in Montana, where I had last lived. I planned to sell it all and make some cash. So we set out on the highway, across great vast sweeping plains through Kansas, Colorado, Wyoming. Only the Suburu on the road, and a semi truck, every now and then.

When we got to Montana, I discovered that everything I had stored was gone. Everything I had planned to use, or sell.

I was frustrated. And pissed. And broke. And broken.

I called my friend, blearily teary, heading west on Interstate 90, apologizing for not saying my farewells, but that I simply couldn’t stay any longer. Not after everything was gone.

He said to me, “Lindsey, do you know how many times I’ve lost everything?”
“No,” I sniffed.
He paused and said, emphatically, “Seven.”

And I did the only thing that made sense: I laughed. I realized that everything wasn’t really everything. I didn’t need my clothes or my skis or my DVD collection to be myself. In fact, I had just lived 6 months without any of that stuff and it only made me feel more free to live how I wanted.

This realization is one of my great revelations of traveling.

Since then, I’ve been living with way less things than I ever have before, and getting pretty good at it. Do you need a delicious meal prepared using only a saucepan (without a handle), a kitchen towel, and a questionable thrift store wooden spoon? I got you! (You don’t mind eating out of a mason jar, do you?) How about a new winter wardrobe with $50. Yeah, I can do that.

This is the story of how I inadvertently became a wannabe minimalist.

Minimalism

I’m dramatic. Most people don’t leave everything they own with someone that could potentially go to jail/turn many things into nothing so this story might be a bit irrelevant to anyone who is stable/sane. I believe that living with less is an awesome way to live life but I definitely couldn’t have gotten to this point without having everything taken. I’m a hoarder at heart. Funny how life works out sometimes, the worst possible situations turning into a completely beneficial lifestyle change.

When I was forced into living with nothing, I realized the simple pleasures in life and reconnected with some old passions.

I found personal productivity through living simply. Not buying, or being a typical consumer helps me have a small footprint. I’m an idealist and a hippie and hold firm to the belief that living lighter is one of the best things humans can do for the planet.

Also because I’m poor, having a reason to NOT buy more Things sure helps keep this waitress afloat.

Living the Fun, Alternatively

For someone with few things and no ability to waste money, the word “fun” takes on a new definition. It isn’t about going out to dinners and movies and the bar anymore. Because, at one point in my life, entertainment and fun were synonymous. I’ve since redefined how to have fun.

Fun is pursuing something awesome, with good people.

A few weeks ago, several friends took a sailboat out into Lake Michigan at midnight. Out in the lake, under a bright starry sky, we pulled out instruments. A banjo, a guitar, a ukulele and voices rang out. I played around with some nighttime photography. We taught each other about sailing and astronomy and how to avoid seasickness.

The breeze kissed my face and my heart glowed to be in the moment of natural beauty, creativity, adventure and love. It was really fun.

Fun is a Part of Every Day

If you want it to be. That’s the great thing about life – you can choose to have fun.

Smalltown Michigan summer is over, people are gone, and I feel more alone than ever. I’ve been using my isolation to practice meditation. I read The Dharma Bums at the beginning of summer and I related with Jack Kerouac when goes home and spends the winter meditating under a tree.

Everyone thought he was a big waste, just sitting out under a tree. But he found something within himself that season, that he took with him back into his travels and life.

Granted, I didn’t spend the whole summer under a tree. I wrote and hung out with new friends but mostly on my own, trying to be still, and present, and understand myself. I spent time outdoors, I read, I learned, and I grew. I’m not quite sure where the line gets drawn between fun and growth anymore. Not such a bad thing.

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