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Addicted to the Busy

posted 30th April 2011    Written by: Bri    CATEGORY: Bri, Life Lesson

As part of the wonderful Molly’s Joy Juice [Beta] I’ve been receiving some pretty phenomenal journaling prompts in my inbox every week.  I have really relished the opportunity to spend some quiet, reflective, me-time these past weeks and I wanted to share an little epiphany I had during the process.

One of the prompts asks how you spend your time.   The things that we spend our time doing says something about us, right?  Are you spending time doing things that fill you up?   Are you running around like a chicken without their head in an effort to distract yourself from your own life?   I tend to err toward the latter.

Before Mr. A, I was busy doing something every single night of the week.  I would run from work to some scheduled meeting/event/function, and while at times I loved it, I had been running on empty.  I was exhausted and I could feel myself having to force my smile and energy more than normal.  I was keeping up the break-neck momentum out of fear of what I would feel if I stopped for a day.  I was lonely.  I was avoiding myself.  Frantic business was better than dealing with the loneliness.

Being pregnant has changed everything. I feel like I have received the golden ticket to only do the things that are important to me.  My social calender is minimal with most nights spent snuggling in bed with Mr. A.  If I want to spend an evening ignoring my phone and indulging in a marathon of Gilmore Girls, that’s that I do.  If I crave Thai food and then ice cream cones and then yogurt and then Cheerios, that’s what I eat.  I have been quiet enough to be able to hear my body’s requests, and I am giving into it all. I have never felt more calm and myself.  I am so happy I am pregnant and finally figured out how to politely weed out all the crap that was filling my calender but not me.

BUT…

Why did I wait so long to start intentionally filling myself up?  Why did I need a baby-on-the-way to finally put up some boundaries with my time?  Now that I have some time freed up  I am focusing on some pretty important things.  I am growing a baby for starters (that is currently as big as a fig with all of it’s internal organs developed).  I am spending time with Mr. A, figuring out what I can do to make him feel adored and loved.  I have read three book in the past two weeks.  I’ve spent time dreaming about the life that will be here in 6 months. I am often asleep by 9pm.  I’m listening to my heart, my body, and my soul food-cravings better than I ever have.

What are YOU waiting for?  What are the things that you’re doing that aren’t filling you up?  What would you be doing if you had the golden ticket to get out of all those obligations that keep you moving at a manic pace?  Why can’t you start today?

{Photo Credit}

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The Fear of Being Found Out

posted 30th April 2011    Written by: Dee    CATEGORY: All Posts, Dee, Season 4, What I've Learned

The other day, I was chatting with my advisor about big stuff like anxiety, the Cardinals, train rides, the depth of existence, and why no one talks in class anymore.

In response to my concern that nobody speaks up in the discussion section of my Religious Studies seminar, he said something that clicked like whoa. “People are just so afraid of being found out,” he said. “They fear judgment. They fear being placed in a box. They fear being misunderstood, thought a fool, or offending someone. So, they say nothing. Then, you know what happens? Nobody knows them. And they don’t know themselves.”

What he said vibrated at my core. That was what it had been all along.

I have a fear of being found out.

It’s difficult, painful, go-to-the-depths-of-your-heart-and-soul, real work, but moving through my personal QLC has required that I identify the triggers that sent me into the tailspin.  It’s hard, of course, to pinpoint roots of dramatic shifts in mental well-being, but as I’ve worked through the Joy Equation, focused on Deliberate Living, tested the amazing and soon-to-be-launched Joy Juice, and talked to wise people, I’ve uncovered the very important little virus that snuck into my psyche and paralyzed me:

I developed a fear of letting people know my unique self.

Molly always says, “Think about when the last time was that you felt truly happy and begin working from there to understand how you can apply that to now.” I can look back on a time when I wasn’t experiencing the pangs of depression, the jolts of fear, the embarrassment, or the burdens of irresponsibility. I remember what it was like to feel free of worry.

The time when I was happiest was a time when I was proud and sure of who I was: A farmer’s daughter, raised in the home that my great-great grandfather built, brought up fishing in the evenings, riding my pony in the fields, and running wild with my little brother through hay stacks. Going to mass and to my grandparent’s for breakfast every Sunday. Raising kittens and calves and turtles. Hitting flea markets with my mom. Cheering at the local football game. Going to school everyday with a class of eleven people, the same eleven people I’d been with since we were five years old. Swimming in our pond. Singing and playing instruments with my family on the back porch. Going to sleep with the windows open and all the doors unlocked.

Everyone in my small town knew me, my story, my parent’s, my personality, my mistakes. There was no hiding from who I was.

Overnight, I went from hearing the crickets from my bedroom window to living in a dorm next to women from metropolitan areas, the daughters of investment bankers and ladies who lunch. They carried designer bags, wore heels to class, pledged their allegiance to Greek letters, and fussed about boys.

I felt different and inadequate. I didn’t have a trust fund or a luxury car. And I couldn’t get one. All I could do was slink into the shadows, shift my attention from developing my authentic self to creating a life just like everyone else’s, and blend in.

“I’ve learned that people deeply fear being found out. They fear judgment. They fear being placed in a box. They fear being misunderstood, thought a fool, or offending someone. They’re scared for people to know who they are. So, they say nothing. Then, you know what happens? Nobody knows them. And they don’t know themselves.” -John Flanagan

I could take out credit cards and charge J. Crew clothes!

I could join a sorority and date fraternity boys!

I could abandon relationships with the people of my past!

And I could lose myself completely in it all.

An identity crisis triggered my QLC.

What was I so afraid of, anyway? I mean, how cool is the life I came from and the opportunities it has afforded me. How cool to offer something so different from everyone around me? How fortunate am I to be so unique? And, augh, why does the QLC do such a good job of hiding that value from us?

Spending time with myself, learning who I am, and understanding my strengths and weaknesses, rather than focusing my energy on camouflaging myself because I’m scared to reveal where I came from, what I’ve been through, and who that makes me, is the most productive task I’m undertaking.

Yep. I’ve got issues, for sure. Issues with my parents, issues with men, issues with committment, issues with honesty, issues with money, execution, laziness, indulging, and interrupting people. But, in facing the fear and letting people see an authentic me, there is security. There is strength in knowing both what we have to offer and then offering it. There is fierce love in finding out who we are and then inviting others to do the same.

As Laura reminded us, We Are All Awesome.

It is AWESOME that I had the opportunity to be raised as I was. It is AWESOME that I have my very own, individual priorities, interests, habits, mannerisms, family, friends, tendencies, look, perspective, preferences, and faults. It is AWESOME that I’m different. It is AWESOME to speak up, face the fear, and be found out.

So, find me out. All of it.

[Photo credit: It's A Colorful World]

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Searching for happiness

posted 29th April 2011    Written by: Katharine    CATEGORY: All Posts, Katharine, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 4, Travel, Travel/Adventure, What I've Learned

“Happiness is the consequence of personal effort.  You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it.” - Eat, Pray, Love

What exactly is happiness?  How do you know when you find it?  Is it a constant euphoric feeling?  Are we ever truly happy?

I’ve been fighting depression since I was 20 years old.  I chose against antidepressants because I was afraid I would get addicted to them.  So instead, I chose alcohol.  I went through a rough phase with it shortly after my mother passed away.  I drank.  A lot.  My senior year of college I drank every night.  Every. Single. Night.  Some nights I would drink myself to sleep just to drown the pain.

For the first two years I lived in Philadelphia, I hoovered that fine line of alcoholism.  I knew things were really bad when I gave myself alcohol poisoning one night.  I mean, it wasn’t on purpose.  I was out with a friend on a Friday afternoon.  It started out as an innocent happy hour.  We would catch up over a few drinks, maybe get some dinner, and then go our separate ways.  Instead, we chose to go all out, balls to the wall, and drink hardcore on a Friday night.  I drank to numb the emotional pain that night, and I paid for it later on.

Over the last year, I’ve worked really hard to turn myself around.  I saw a therapist to work through my emotional pain, and I’ve curbed my alcohol intake dramatically.  Well, minus the bender on New Year’s Eve and Las Vegas in February for a hockey tournament.  Those don’t count.

Lately, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to answer the tough questions about why I’m struggling emotionally and the real reasons I moved out of the States.

I thought moving out of the States and reclaiming my life would fix my problems with depression and unhappiness.  I mean, I have the freedom to travel the world and do whatever I want.  Most people don’t ever get a chance like this in their lifetime.

So, why did I move abroad?  I don’t know.  I had just lost my job and needed a temporary fix.  I felt like I failed at life in the States.  I was tired of the American dating scene.  I needed to do something bold and gutsy to feel something other than pain.  Truth is, I can’t explain it.  People constantly ask me why I did it and I don’t have just one answer for them.  I was just sick of living every day the same way and feeling inadequate.

Elizabeth Gilbert wrote in Eat Pray Love:

Virgina Woolf wrote, ‘Across the broad continent of a woman’s life falls the shadow of a sword.’  On one side of that sword there lies convention and tradition and order, where ‘all is correct.’  But on the other side of that sword, if you’re crazy enough to cross it and choose a life that does not follow convention, ‘all is confusion.  Nothing follows a regular course.’

I choose confusion.

I always thought happiness was found by living the traditional lifestyle.  I thought if I followed the trend of school-work-marriage-babies that I would be genuinely happy.  But somewhere between alcohol and depression, I realized that my life isn’t supposed to be traditional.  I’m not made to follow that trend.

I was made to stand out from the crowd.  I was made to be one of those people who refused to settle for a measly job and an unsatisfying relationship.  I was made to reclaim a life full of passion, intention, and happiness.  I just hope that someday I can find what I’m looking for.

 

{photo credit: helenista fashion}

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We Are All Awesome

posted 27th April 2011    Written by: Laura    CATEGORY: Inspiration, Laura, Season 4

As you probably already know, Molly is launching an exciting new program any day now, called Joy Juice. As one of the beta testers, I was lucky enough to get a sneak peek at what this gem-of-a-joy-strategy is all about. I won’t reveal the specifics of the prompts I got to see (you’ll have to drink the Juice yourself to find out!). BUT, I am delighted to share with you this little nugget of self love and acceptance that one of the Joy Juice emails yielded:

Hey World!

You know what? I am awesome. My name is Laura – or Big L for short – and I bring a lot of awesomeness to the table.

For starters, I’m smart. I’m a thinker. I come up with a lot of ideas. I can always be counted on for that. I’m one of those people who knows a little bit about a lot of things, which comes in handy, really. Whether it’s news, celebrity gossip, movies, music, business, or sports, I can help keep the conversation going. And aside from love, conversation makes the world go round, doesn’t it?

You know what else? I’m a lover, not a hater. That’s some awesomeness that you can appreciate, I know. I see goodness in lots of things and creatures. I mind my manners, am conscientious, have lots of compassion and empathy to offer, and I hand out smiles real easily. I’m sure the people at Starbucks, my friends and family, and my fur babies love that. They’re on the receiving end of lotsa smiles.

Speaking of smiles, I’m great at making people laugh. Not in a shoulda-been-a-comedian kind of way, but in an honest, cute, witty kind of way. I think people who make me laugh are awesome, so that must make me awesome, too.

I’m brave, confident, often fearless, and put unwavering trust in a lot of people and things. I know for a fact that’s something other people find awesome about me. “You inspire me!” they claim. “You’ve got balls!” they declare. As far as compliments go, those are pretty juicy ones, don’t you think?

I’m a darn good dancer, too. I don’t know if that counts as something you benefit from, world, but dancing makes me feel damn awesome, so I’ll count it anyway!

I’m creative in a lot of ways, dancing is just one way I express it. Whether I’m scrap booking, collage-making, brainstorming, writing, or problem solving, I’ve always got something crafty or innovative up my sleeve. I know my family, friends, colleagues, and clients have all benefitted from that in one way or another. Creativity is a pretty awesome vibe to bring to the world. Most days, we don’t rely on it enough, I don’t think.

So there it is, world. Some of the ways I bring my awesome to you – right there, in black and white.

Big Hugs,
Big L

 

We’re all awesome in so many ways, aren’t we? The key is to remind ourselves of it often. To spell it out, even if it seems silly. Trust me, doing so can bring a lot of sunshine to an otherwise gray day.

{Photo credit}

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Great, full.

posted 26th April 2011    Written by: Amanda    CATEGORY: All Posts, Amanda, Family, Life Lesson, Season 4

Losing control — as opposed to the very conscious effort of giving away control — is horrifying. I contemplated control as I lay writhing in pain on a hospital gurney, clutching my abdomen. I felt helpless. Nausea gave way to other symptoms. The pain intensified. Mike grasped my hand and looked on in quiet terror.

Neither of us knew what was happening.

Neither of us knew if the baby was okay or if I was going to be okay or if what I was experiencing was at all normal for a pregnancy.

I had lost control.

In spite of this, I found my way to gratitude: this situation was not in my control and, for whatever reason, that was okay. I knew I was in good hands. These were trained (and comforting) professionals that dealt with mamas and mamas-to-be every day. They wouldn’t let anything happen to me or my baby.

As the nurses and technicians swarmed and soothed, I tried to concentrate on something — anything — that would bring me peace. I thought about my baby, merrily (unmerrily?) kicking at my insides, and willed him to be healthy. I thought about my husband, stoic and brave, concentrating on the buzzing room and answering any questions, and thanked him for his strength. I thought about my parents, sleeping four and a half hours away, and praised them for my upbringing.

I thought about myself, too.

I told myself that I was strong, courageous, and bold. I told myself that pain is only temporary but this wiggly baby would be for life.

I gritted my teeth against the onset of needle after needle and reassured myself that it was all necessary. I thanked the nurses for their gentle hands. I thanked the doctor for her kind words. I silently thanked universal health care; in spite of its flaws, I was able to rush to the hospital and be taken care of without worrying about the bill.

I am a grateful person. Truly, I am. I try to tell people as often as I can how much I appreciate them and their hard work. I tell my clients I appreciate their flexibility and their patience. I tell my partners that I appreciate their honesty and work ethic. I tell my family that I appreciate their generosity and kindness. I tell my friends that I appreciate their individuality and what that brings to my life.

I tell my husband “thank you” and “I appreciate you” as many times as I possibly can without it seeming like I’m being fake. The little things, from him bringing me a glass of water to late-night cuddles after I have a nightmare, add up. So does the appreciation.

It took an evening of pain, tears, needles, and ultrasounds for me to find myself truly being grateful for myself. I’ve never experienced inward gratitude before. I was grateful that I could find strength in any situation — when it comes time to deliver, I will be grateful for that all over again. I was grateful for my motherly instincts, which I didn’t think I had, driving me to keep calm so my baby would be calm. I was grateful for my iron resolve; I wasn’t about to let anything bring me down, especially not something like gallstones.

As the pain abated and I was finally able to sleep, I looked over at Mike — pallid skin, sunken green eyes, and worry tugging at the corners of his strong mouth — and thought, “Great, full.”

Photo by kateausburn

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