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Being Authentic Is Hard

posted 23rd February 2011    Written by: Laura    CATEGORY: Creativity, Events, Laura, Season 4

As badly as I want it, being authentic is hard. I struggle with putting it into action. For me, it means forgetting rules, ignoring norms and daring to be different. That’s trickier than going with the flow, sticking with tradition and accepting the status quo. It takes more effort.

Mostly, my itch to be so not-so-normal intensifies when I’m marking a milestone or playing a role that has high expectations tied to it. Examples? Graduating from high school. Graduating from university. Getting married. Being an employee.

While I’m fine these concepts – I did graduate high school, I did get a degree, I am engaged to be married, I was a great employee – I’m not fine with the pressure for standardization that come with them.

In the past, I’ve begrudgingly given into it a lot. I didn’t take a year off after high school, I didn’t apply to a fine arts college, I didn’t travel after university, I didn’t pause to breathe before diving into my career. I wanted to do those things, but because of family, friends, fear, and circumstance, I gave in and made easy, conventional choices. I don’t regret them, but I’m ready to not play by the rules anymore. I’m ready to listen to what my heart wants.

Luckily, I have two huge opportunities to do just that: I’m planning my wedding and I’m building a business. I have free reign to do things my way, challenge whatever assumptions I want and make choices with bold, authentic passion. What’s funny is that as much as the path is cleared, I’m still having a hard time taking it.

When we first decided to get married, before I gave any thought to possibilities, budget or family expectations, my instinct was to say things like:

“I want something really different! Like, let’s go somewhere that isn’t even used for weddings.”

“I want to sleep in on my wedding day! Let’s do a night time thing. None of this get my hair done at 9 a.m. stuff.”

“I just want to have a party! Wouldn’t it be cool if it could feel like a nightclub or something?”

“Do we need to have a sit down meal? I don’t want four courses and chicken stuffed with fucking goat cheese.”

“I’m picturing colours! Games, balloons, candy! It’ll be fun and laid back, nothing formal or stuffy.”

“I want it to be kinda ballsy. Not everyone can pull off lollipops in a vase instead of flowers. It needs to be really youthful, without feeling like a toddler threw up everywhere.”

“I hate the whole we’ll stand here and you’ll look at us. And the we’ll dance and you’ll look at us. And the we’ll sit at a special table and you’ll look at us. Why does everybody have to be staring at us?!”

I said all of those things. And I meant them. But then we looked at a hotel as a venue option and I faltered. I came up with a couple of plated meals I could live with. I believed that with the right touches, I could make a white rectangular room feel like us. I gave up on my ideas for a buffet of homemade cookies and having guests paint a canvas. I started leaning towards convenience over creativity, and towards standard over really damn special.

After viewing one common option, I was reminded of all of the tradition and expectations surrounding weddings that just don’t feel like me. Or like us. And I was willing to let them win. I was annoyed as hell, but I was going to let them win.

Then 48 hours ago, the world called me out. Hunny and I looked at a place that is as distinct, playful, informal, cool, and urban as I could’ve imagined. It WOW-ed us both and quite simply, it felt like us. It’s a place where we can incorporate all of those things I instinctively said and every creative idea I have – every single one of them.

But it’s taken me a full 48 hours to embrace it and get excited about its authenticity. Because I had already talked myself into settling. I had already given up on this place even existing.

That’s a little scary, isn’t it? That it’s that easy to celebrate your uniqueness or lose it altogether. All it takes is one option, one decision, one crossroad.

To live a life that feels like YOU, you really need to consciously choose that every day, every time. It’s a hard thing to do, especially because they’re likely to be bold, brave, unique, uncertain, effort-y, unfamiliar choices.

But for me? It’s about damn time.

Sure, the hotel would work. But when faced with an alternative that feels like it was created from my imagination, I’d be crazy to pass it up. It doesn’t have free parking, or round tables with white linens, or full service staff, or accommodations in the same building, or chandeliers. Those things might matter to someone else, but they don’t matter to me.

So instead of living someone else’s life, I’m going to live mine. Instead of choosing something that would work, I’m going to choose something that kicks ass. I’m making the authentic choice, rather than the easy, convenient one. I’m learning how to trust myself and what I want. And you know what? It feels ridiculous good!

{Photo credit: My wedding vision board}

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Why I’m Completely Unemployable

posted 22nd February 2011    Written by: Amanda    CATEGORY: All Posts, Amanda, Creativity, Family, Job/Career/Work, Season 4

Following my final bout of having a Big Girl Job in 2008, I determined that I am, in fact, unemployable. It’s not to say that I don’t possess the necessary skill-set to be a perfectly useful worker robot. What I am saying, in fact, is that even though I’m a perfectly useful worker robot, I’m also a miserable one.

If you put me in an office that I cannot leave, I will hate the job and watch the clock. And, more often than not, will find ways to get my work done as quickly as possible so that I can peruse the internet instead of doing anything further productive.

If you create expectations that I have to be at a desk at a certain time until a certain time, in spite of my productivity, I will quietly resent the job and — to a lesser extent — you (the only exception being my stint in career counselling).

Just because you live entirely in meatspace, doesn’t mean that I do. Just because you live entirely in cyberspace, doesn’t mean that I do. Give me balance. Give me serenity. Do not confine me.

And so, sadly, even though at twenty-four I have quite an impressive resume, I am entirely unemployable.

Marching to the beat of my own… madness?

My great-grandfather owned his own mechanic shop and raised countless foster children alongside his biological ones. My grandfather ran a successful wholesale business for the better part of forty years (probably more). My father currently runs a technology consulting business where he specializes in small-business networking solutions.

Entrepreneurship runs thick in my veins.

But these men struggled with their entrepreneurial pursuits, driven by a palatable need for success and financial solvency. Each of them needed to provide for their growing families. Each of them worked long, hard hours in order to find that success. For my grandfathers, it came at a cost: their health and, in the case of my grandfather, healthy relationships with family.

For my father, he couldn’t put a price on the happiness of his family. He didn’t want to go down the road his father did, where money became the only important factor of becoming an entrepreneur. So when we struggled and marched forward anyway, we did it because we believed in him. When times were tight and we were broke, we shrugged it off.

It was only money.

It wasn’t love. Or health. Or happiness, for that matter.

When my job and I split in 2008, I didn’t have those dreams for myself. I wanted something stable, secure, and with a regular paycheque. I wanted to be able to afford to go on vacations with my family. I wanted to go shopping when I wanted to. I wanted to live a relatively care-free existence of financial solvency right out of the gate.

But it didn’t happen.

Obviously.

I found myself in flux, where I had the ability — and the discipline — to make my own rules and march to the beat of the Entrepreneurial Drum. The only variable, of course, was determining if I had the lady balls to make it work. Did I have the confidence to run my own show? Or was I going to let fear rule me as I had let it rule so many other decisions in my life?

Screw it. I’m doing it my way.

I half-expected my parents to choke at my decision of starting up my own business. They half did. Mostly, they saw it coming. They’re intuitive like that.

There was a pattern of behaviour in each of my jobs, throughout the time that I was traditionally employed.

Get hired, enjoy getting to know co-workers, settle in, fall into a deep lull of unappreciated output (because, quite honestly, that is the life of a code monkey), become depressed, struggle until I finally find something new, rinse and repeat.

It was exhausting.

It was also completely pointless, as I’m about as unemployable as they get.

Not many people strive to achieve unemployability. The exit strategy of heading back into the 9-5 grind is tantalizing and safe. I know that no matter what happens in the next five months, there is no going back to safe and warm and meek.

There is only forward.

I only hope that my son (did I mention that we’re having a boy?) will share my fire and shake off the confines of traditional employment as early as possible. Might spare him the heartache. And the backache. Oy.

Image by Evil Erin.

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All Aboard For a New Life

posted 20th February 2011    Written by: Juliana    CATEGORY: All Posts, Juliana, Season 4, Travel, What I've Learned

Ahoy, mateys!

(I’ve always wanted to say that.)

By the time you read this, I will be finishing up a week  on the Cayamo Cruise. I’ve been wanting to go on Cayamo since I first heard of it three years ago, and I’m finally getting the chance! It’s basically a music festival on a boat, and it’s how I’m celebrating the end of my “Day Job”.

One of my New Year’s Resoloosetions* was to see more live music this year.  As a performer, sometimes the only live music I get to see is when I peek in on the set of someone I’m sharing a bill with, or get to stay and watch someone I’m opening for.  Many of my fellow musician buddies have shows the same nights I do, and it’s hard for me to stay out late to see a band in Atlanta when I live an hour away (and let’s face it, I am not 22 anymore.  All-nighters hurt!)

The downside of this is that my own music suffers.  In the same way that people who read more tend to have an easier time writing, I think musicians who actually go out and listen to music have an easier time making new music.   Also, I LOVE music. And it sucks not regularly experiencing something you love, right?

So, the cruise.  A friend of mine gave me this cruise as a gift (say it with me now, “Holy Crap!” I know. She is awesome.) and I cannot think of a better way to kick off the next six months of my life.

Several of my favorite songwriters will be on the boat this year, including Shawn Mullins, the Indigo Girls, Patty Griffin, and John Prine. If my intentions are to be more active, play more music, meet more musicians and travel more — well, I’m pretty much setting the tone right off the bat!   There will be dozens of shows, impromptu jam sessions, open mics, in addition to all the partying that most people go on a cruise for.

The day this post goes live, I’ll be returning to port, probably completely blissed out.  I’ll also be returning to, well, real life.  It will be the first time that I’ll be facing the fact that I don’t have a job…at least not an office job.   I’ll be coming down from a vacation and realizing that it wasn’t a vacation – there’s no desk to go back to. I’ve entertained the thought, tried to imagine how it will feel, a bunch of times, but I don’t think I will fully grasp the enormity of my decision until I get back home.

And actually, that’s probably for the best.  If I think too much about it now, the chance of me backing out increases.  If I think too much, I start to hear all the voices of concerned authority figures, parents, relatives and friends, telling me how impossible it is to live a creative life full-time.  These people want to keep me safe, to make sure I have it as easy as possible, that I don’t have to worry about things… but I can’t let fear take over at this point. Just because those voices are repeating the same messages over and over again, doesn’t mean that what they’re saying is true.

The truth is, I would rather be just a little bit worried about where my next paycheck is coming from if the real payoff is that I am spending time making my dreams come true.   The truth is, I have a husband who is more than supportive of me going after it, and many friends who rally behind me like awesome, loud cheerleaders — and their voices rise over the worried muttering of all the others.

Here’s to jumping ship, and boarding a new one.

* Note: A resoLOOSEtion is not the same as a resolution.  The latter implies that you’re gonna be a big fat failure if you don’t stick to it, whereas the former is a fun guideline that’s OK to stray from.  I made resoloosetions to take the pressure off of myself and it seems to be working!

[photo credit: bluespf42]

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How to Date Yourself in 10 Ways

posted 19th February 2011    Written by: Dee    CATEGORY: All Posts, Dee, Inspiration, Love/Relationships

Another Valentine’s Day has come and gone, and I’m left thinking about Cupid’s arrow and L-O-V-E.

This year, though, it was less about me spending an hour shaving and more about reflection, introspection, and a journey into the heart of self-love.

Believe me, I’m no expert at the fine art of fierce self-love. I’m generally much better at self-deprecation and self-sabotage.

Backstory: I first began processing the idea of dating myself as I was going through a major, major breakup last year. It was the most defining relationship I’d ever been a part of; it was with a man who was the first person to ever know me- the good, the bad, and the early in the morning me (yikes). It was a tumultuous, terrible, wonderful, bright, miserable, enlightening, and invigorating relationship- all at once. But, he just changed his mind one day. Something about not being able to stand me or something. And when it was over, I was, simply, alone.

I didn’t know where to turn for the highs and lows I’d become so accustomed to over the years. I didn’t know who to run to or how to distract myself from reality. I didn’t have a definition anymore. It sucked big time.

I was in hell. And not because I missed him. I was in hell because I knew in my deepest deep that I was just going to have to be me. I didn’t know me and I didn’t really want to get to know me, either. It seemed too scary. What if I didn’t like me once I got to know me?

Without much of a choice, and in a last ditch effort to pull myself up from the pile of potato chip bags and Ray Lamontagne CD’s, I took myself on a date. I went to see a movie. Alone. By myself. Yes. Me in the theatre. A movie I couldn’t talk anyone else into seeing with me. So I went. Just for me. And I dressed up. And I bought myself some sour candies and a big old popcorn. And it. felt. so. good.

It actually was really scary. It was invigorating. It was wonderful and terrible and enlightening and gave me all the things that my relationship used to give me. And, like the “duh” billy club beat me over the head, I deeply understood that the most important relationship that I will ever have, the truly defining relationship that I can count on forever, is the one with myself. I think Carrie Bradshaw said that once. Which makes it true.

I began thinking: I had devoted too much time to worrying about the opposite sex, busying myself with finding “the one” to fulfill me.

Then, somewhere a shrill voice inside me said, “WAKE UP LADY! You’re “the one!”

And I also realized, that like any relationship, my relationship with myself would take cultivating and attention. Work and Effort. Thought and Care. It would take putting myself in uncomfortable situations and pushing myself to make me a priority.

Stay with me, here. Give this idea a moment to sink in. I asked myself some hard questions.

What if I just met me? Would I make a good impression on myself?

Would I have a crush on me?

No.

I’ve got to give it attention, this real-life romance with myself, as if it’s a brand new relationship.

I don’t know about you, but washing my hair is a must for a first date. Also, clean underwear. I psych myself up, I talk kindly about myself, and I don’t talk about my past relationships (or gas).

For me, it looks like putting my best foot forward, as if each day is a first date with myself. And it goes a little something like this…

How To Date Yourself in 10 Ways:

1. Get ready: shower, shave, put on your feel-good make-up and do your hair in a fun, flirty, very you way. Every day. Make time for it. Maybe even get your nails done, and a fresh new haircut. Whatever it takes to make this feel real.

2. Wear something fun that makes you feel oh-so-good. Show off your personality. Think about the you that you want to present to the world. You can forget a cleavage-bearing shirt everyday, unless that’s your thing.

3. Clean your space. Imagine you’re expecting a guest to pick you up for your date. You wouldn’t have an unmade, sick-dirty bed if you were going on a date, would you? No. You’d pick up the trash off of the floor and put your laundry away. You’d also probably do your dishes and clean your toilet. Probably.

4. Tell your friends how excited you are. Only this time, it’s how excited you are to get to know you. Tell them your goals, your specific hopes, everything about you that makes you giddy. And when they follow-up to see how your new relationship is going? Be honest. Use your friends and support system to hold you accountable.

5. Have a plan. Lunch? Movie? That new restaurant or museum? Walk in the park followed by wine in the grass? A home-cooked new recipe prepared at home? Do it. Give yourself the courtesy of scheduling and keeping a date.

6. Give yourself a thoughtful gift. Flowers. Candy. A mix tape of your favorite tunes. Those earrings you’ve been eyeing. And celebrate milestones. Days, weeks, or months of progress deserve attention, just like in any relationship.

7. Leave yourself love notes. Sticky-notes on the mirror, your favorite quote scribbled inside your notebook, an inspirational photo, or

8. Talk only positively about yourself. You wouldn’t go on and on about your nasty habits or your dysfunctional family or your bout with depression on a date, would you? Maybe you would, after some wine, but focusing on the positive, at least this early in the game, always yields better results.

9. Get to know you. Journal it. Learn who you are, what your goals and dreams are, and who you want to be. Your best self. Explore what that looks like. Map it out. Devote time to this part of the relationship; it will be the foundation that keeps you in a happy place when the going gets tough.

10. Kiss yourself goodnight. Develop a night-time routine that is all about self-love. Maybe a cup of tea. Maybe a soothing read? Maybe some music? Sink into bed with that feeling that it’s all falling into place.

It’s seems so very simple; clean underwear and sticky-notes on mirrors, yeah? It’s more than that, but it’s just that straightforward for me. It will take days and days of sticky notes and clean underwear and kissing myself goodnight, it will take the practice and dedication that I’d usually be putting into my relationship with someone else, it will make me uncomfortable sometimes, and it will make life feel magical because I’m learning that I can give myself everything I need.

One of these days, the love of my life will unexpectedly appear and it will be me, looking back at myself in the mirror.

[photo credit: weheartit]

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Leaving the City of Broken Dreams

posted 18th February 2011    Written by: Katharine    CATEGORY: All Posts, Job/Career/Work, Katharine, Love/Relationships, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 4, Travel, Travel/Adventure, What I've Learned

I’ve been a roller coaster of emotions ever since I paid my deposit and booked my flight to Prague.  From excited, to terrified, to overwhelmed, to sad, back to excited.  I know these feeling are completely normal in situations like this, but I’m having a tough time embracing them.

This wasn’t an easy decision.  It doesn’t just affect me; it affects my brothers, my friends, my roommates, my nonprofit organization, and my hockey teammates.  People who depend on me to come home for Holidays, meet up for Sunday brunch, and show up to Tuesday night games.  It’s not easy to walk away from something you’ve worked so hard to create.

Today, I had my tipping point.  As I peeked out my bedroom window and watched people dig their cars out of the 15 inches of snow that fell over night (and realizing I’ll have to do the same at some point, too), I thought to myself, I am so done with this city.

This move here was only supposed to be temporary – two years, max.  I wanted to gain enough professional experience so I could move onto my next big city.  But as I continued to build on my foundation, the reasons for staying started piling up – relationships, friendships, jobs, hockey, convenience.  I thought if I stayed for my friendships, I could be happier.  Or if I stayed for a man, we could make a relationship work.  Or if I could just stay at my job a little bit longer, I would finally get that pay raise.  It’s been five years and those friendships have dissolved, the relationships didn’t work, and I never got a raise.  I’ve settled for mediocrity and found ways to fill the cracks of my damaged life with things like alcohol, toxic friendships, and lousy one-night stands.

I thought I was building a foundation.  Truth is, I was doing everything I could to destroy it.  Consuming an entire bottle of vodka on a Tuesday night to wash away the bad effects of the work day.  Meeting up with toxic friends gave me an excuse to go out on a Saturday night.  Leaving the bar with random men provided a temporary fix for my broken heart and my emotional void.  I didn’t care about the long-term effects those decisions would have; I wanted the instant gratification.

I knew everything caught up to me the moment I was laying on my bathroom floor, contemplating suicide.  That moment wasn’t just about not grieving for my parents, it was also about the fact that I was destroying my life.  With each empty bottle and one-night stand, I was on a destructive path that could have very well killed me.

2010 was a pivotal year.  I made the courageous decision to see a therapist and work through my pain of loneliness and depression because I didn’t want to continue throwing my life away.  I’m so much better than this. I ended a 15-year friendship with my best friend after realizing how toxic and damaging it was.  She’s not a bad person; she’s just a bad friend to me. I forgave a man who put me on an emotional roller coaster for three years because he couldn’t commit.  His intention wasn’t to hurt me. It was a year in which I discovered what it really means to work towards authentic happiness, to allow myself to become vulnerable to a man (and be okay with it), and to have satisfying friendships with women.

I’m beginning to discover what I’m worth, what I’m capable of, and what it will take for me to find my authentic happiness.

I’m ready to leave.  I’m ready to embark on a new journey and figure out what the hell I want to do with my life – now and in the long-term.  I’m finally at a point where the feelings of being terrified and overwhelmed are crushed by incredible excitement.  As I watch my friends get engaged, have children, and settle down, I can’t help but feel incredibly lucky for myself.  I get to travel the world and live life on my own terms.  I get to call the shots, to say ‘no,’ and to dictate my future.

I’m so done with this city and I may never come back.

{photo credit: Fordan}

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