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Accepting Life’s Messy Parts

posted 25th May 2011    Written by: Laura    CATEGORY: Laura, Life Lesson, Season 4

If I were to prioritize one area of growth for myself right now, it might be this: strengthen my love for life’s messiness.

There are few people who really, truly appreciate and accept life’s messiness, even though it’s where the real beauty and magic of life is found.

Molly’s post last week about being overwhelmed and responding to it with trust and patience really struck a chord with me.

So many of life’s best times, phases and moments are fraught with messy authenticity, raw emotion and rich complexity. Don’t you think?

Consider this:

These things are messy, and they’re real.

Laughing out loud, even if no one else is. Spilling spaghetti sauce on your blouse. Leaving the dishes all over the counter and going to bed early instead. Catching a typo after the project’s been printed or launched. Cursing. Speed showering and then whipping your hat into a ponytail or under a hat. Changing a goal before you achieve it. Saying “I don’t know” without any feelings of shame gripping your throat. Being happy one day and wanting to hide under the covers the next. Being overwhelmed by all of the things you’re striving for at once, or all of the demands on your time. Feeling confused. Second guessing yourself. Knowing what you want and but knowing how to get there.

These things mean we’re living, we’re loving, we’re trying. They mean we’re showing up. They are the most beautiful, magical, authentic moments of our lives. But so often, it’s things like these that we cover up for or avoid. So often, it’s things like these that create feelings of guilt for the perfectionists and strivers among us.

I don’t want that to be true for me. I don’t want to be fazed by those things and I certainly don’t want them to make me feel “less than.”

Instead, I want to accept all of life’s messy parts, without hesitation.

How are you living with messy authenticity and acceptance today?

{Photo credit}

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Heeding the Warnings of the Universe

posted 24th May 2011    Written by: Amanda    CATEGORY: All Posts, Amanda, Family, Inspiration, Season 4, What I've Learned

Road trips with my parents have always been a highlight of my life, believe it or not. When I was little, my mom would drive our old Chevy Corsica and my dad would read us snippets of The Lord of the Rings. As we got older and the road trips got more infrequent, the time spent with my parents was relegated to whenever I had time to get back to my hometown (usually once a month or once every two months).

I have the best conversations with my dad when we get on the road. He tells me about his childhood (reminiscent and melancholic), about what he was like as a teenager, about what my mom was like when they were younger (they’ve been together since high school), and waxes poetic on the meandering madness of the universe in general.

We’ve talked at length about his conflicting ideologies — logic is King, yet the Universe is wise. During this particular trip (wherein my parents saved me from the arduous and lengthy Greyhound trip back to Vancouver), my dad and I talked about heeding the warnings on the universe.

When the universe gives you a big signal that you’re making a mistake, you do well to heed its warning. It only comes once. If you choose not to heed it, you’re going to be in for a world of hurt.

My Dad

Warnings and gifts seem to appear right when we least expect them to. It’s easy to misinterpret them as benign or unintrusive or devoid of meaning. Upon closer inspection (and introspection), these signals take on a different life. They have the potential to provide deeper meaning or insight into a given situation.

My first big warning from the universe was when I lost my job as a programmer. Strange as it was, it was easy to follow orders (and shove down my inner monologue) and do what I was told. There was no creative control. There was very little risk. It was comfortable. I could’ve continued my vocation, even though I was miserable. If I had just quit my job, I could’ve returned to being a programmer at any time. Maybe I would have.

But I heeded the universe. Through my very heartbreaking termination, it had warned me that I was heading in the wrong direction with my life.

The second big warning came just after my wedding. My relationship with Mike was, at best, strained. We struggled to keep up with our bills — financial solvency was a ways off, yet — and our communication was completely broken. We barely saw one another for a good four months while I whittled away at a degree that was ultimately doomed to failure. In 2009, Mike had decided that he was sick and tired of his current vocation as a programmer and wanted to become a police officer.

I was left reeling. Our relationship became even more strained (I didn’t think that was possible) and I struggled to keep it together while I felt like everything was falling apart. When the universe presented an opportunity (a gift, really) to go back to my hometown to figure it all out in peace, I took it. I spent four months piecing together what was wrong and struggled to find ways to repair the damage that had been done.

Our relationship wasn’t irreparable, even though at times it appeared to be. I was determined to make it work. I knew that a life without Mike wasn’t something I was prepared to indulge. So I fought for us. He fought for us. We slowly improved our communication, our sex life, and our financial situation. By the time my Autumnal Faceplant of 2010 came around, we were happy and at ease.

If not for the universe providing me an opportunity for growth — if I had stayed in Vancouver and muscled my way through my tumultuous feelings and damaged relationship full time — I might not be with Mike today. I certainly wouldn’t be expecting a baby in a month and a half. And I sure as shit wouldn’t be running a biznez.

Logically, I would’ve been able to figure all of these various issues out given enough time and energy. I might’ve been able to suffer through being a programmer for another couple of years while I figured out what I wanted to do, providing an extra paycheque during some particularly difficult financial situations. My relationship with Mike might’ve been okay had we gone through therapy together and employed another person’s insights into our issues (I’m a firm believer in the power of therapy, baby).

In actuality, I’m grateful for the universe looking out for me. I’ve known plenty of people that have been given the same opportunities and the same sorts of warnings but have failed to heed them over and over again.

The universe will only make its intentions known once, if you’re lucky. In my experience, it’s best to keep yourself open to possibility and try to learn from as many situations as you can. You never know when it all might come together and shine big and bright on your star.

Image found via Image Spark.

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Stuck in Comfortable

posted 21st May 2011    Written by: Dee    CATEGORY: All Posts, Creativity, Dee, Inspiration, Life Lesson, Quarterlife Crisis, Tips & Tools, What I've Learned

I find myself waking up each day in a luscious bed, with my down comforter swallowing me up, the air conditioner pumping, small beagle curled up beside me, sunshine pouring through my windows and the hushed sounds of locals on the streets below carrying up to my room. I’ve finally saved up for that sweet coffee pot I always wanted, the one with the timer; I’ve always got piping hot Folgers ready for me when I shuffle to my little, lovely kitchen in the mornings. I dress from my carefully gathered collection of vintage finds and Target steals. After a healthy breakfast, I walk a few blocks to a lab to work on media projects, I attend lectures on subjects that rev me up; I work and interact with brilliant academics and fellow students during my days. In the evenings, I walk my sweet pup and snap photos while the sun sets. I nap if I need it. I meet with friends for happy hours, plan friend dinners, read at coffee shops, chat with my parents, write, work, live, giggle, love, and play in the evenings.

I do it all over again the next day.

I no longer worry about how I’m going to pay bills, what I’m going to eat for dinner, how to tell my parents this or that, or how I’m going to manage to get through another day.

I’m comfortable. I’ve built a great life; one that I’ve wanted for years. Yet somehow, lately, even in the midst of a lot of very visible joy, the restlessness has set in. I’ve got an itch for more. Bigger. Better. Bolder. I’ve got the basics down, and now I’m ready for the real fun to begin.

There are risks and costs to action.
But they are far less than the long range risks of comfortable inaction.
-John F. Kennedy

Injecting Zest Into The Comfortable Life I’m Living

In some ways it’s simple. I can walk a different way to work and class. Try a new recipe once a week. Call my mom at a different time during the day. Order a different salad for lunch. Sit at another computer when I work in the lab. Dig to the bottom of the basket for a nail polish color that I haven’t worn in a while. Tweak the small, routine behavior that can cultivate boredom, you know?

In another sense, it all calls for something bigger…

Making Myself Uncomfortable

It goes hand in hand with what I explored last week. The ole “seize the day” stuff. Because I’ve built a strong platform for success and exploration. The little things are no longer my obstacle. The time is now for the bigger, better, bolder.

First, it calls for identifying more specifically what I’m yearning for. A creative outlet, physical exertion, new experiences, significant accomplishments, something to write home about!  All things that will pluck me from my comfort zone and will require that I challenge myself mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, from every angle. All the things I’ve been talking about doing and learning and  trying that will fit into the definition of the woman I want to be. Things that will push me towards the bigger goals. It’s been great being able to roll around in comfort, do not get me wrong, but that’s not all I want. That’s not what I’ve been after all this time. As for the action that will turn my comfortable routine into comfortable routine plus exciting newness?

Attend my first class at The Craft Studio and take classes at my local gym (yoga, zumba, body pump!), register for that half marathon for charity, apply for five kick-ass internships, launch my new blog (eep!), begin planning and saving for an exciting trip, switch up my look (you’ll see!), pick up a guitar and a violin again, volunteer for an organization that means something to me, implement an eating plan, learn five new skills (sewing? watercolor? a language? a magic trick? water skiing? this one will be fun…).

That’s a nice start for now. Running. Creating. Growing professionally. Writing, sharing.  Exploring. Scaring myself a little. Doing things that don’t come as naturally to me. Pushing boundaries and giving myself a chance to excel. Does that sound zesty?

Avoiding Messing Up What Works

A significant part of my Stratejoy journey has been about deeply exploring what does work for me. And moving from the cleaning up the mess stage to the building basic comfort stage to now, the challenge and explore more stage, doesn’t have to mean throwing out my progress and starting over. No, it’s a building process. I’ll add to what I’ve learned, push, explore, and investigate myself and my potential, all while being careful to honor the significant improvements that I’ve made. All while remembering what I require and what I’ve learned about me. Honoring the basics while slowly adding in more, without overextending myself.

It all does worry me to an extent, to be honest. The questions stir: “Why is something always missing?”, “Will I ever just let myself be happy?” and “When I get to where I want to go, will it be enough?” It all opens up the possibility for failure, but don’t we know by now that the fear of failure is the biggest joy deterrent? So, answers come: Adventure is missing. Excitement is missing. Challenge is missing. Yes, I do let myself sit in happiness. I’m not lost on all I’ve accomplished and how much has changed for the better. That does make me happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. And, I’ll never get to where I’m “going.” I won’t find a destination and stop. I’ll always keep moving; it’s my nature. I understand that pushing myself to look for more brings me joy. That doesn’t make me someone who is incapable of being content, just someone that knows there is way too much goodness out there to sit still for too long. Should we just let ourselves sit in comfortable? Or should we invite ourselves to open up to more possibility for joy? Can’t we keep what’s comfortable, and when we’re ready, add in a little bit of discomfort, break the routine until that too becomes comfortable, starting the process again. Isn’t that what growth is?

It’s going to be Bigger. Bolder. Better. This summer will be so huge and I can’t wait to finally share excitement with you all! Stay tuned…

[photo credit: Lovely Karen]

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Following My Heart and Seoul

posted 20th May 2011    Written by: Katharine    CATEGORY: All Posts, Katharine, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 4, Travel, Travel/Adventure

[Yes, that's me, circa 1987.  Don't mind the bowl cut (which I rocked for the majority of my childhood. Be jealous.), the uneven bangs (which my mother cut herself), or the frilly red and white dress.

Now that you've all had a good chuckle at my baby picture...]

I never really fully understood racism until I got to Junior High School and my classmates slung derogatory names at me.

Chink.  Gook.

They would stretch the corner of their eyes or talk to me in broken English.

Kids can be so cruel.

I cried every day after school for nearly a year.  I cried myself to sleep at night, praying my classmates would stop torturing me.  I prayed I would wake up and look ‘normal’ like all of my other classmates.  I even secretly despised my parents for adopting me.

In my school district, you were either Caucasian or African American.  Any other race, and you were a prime target for bullying.  It eventually got easier to be accepted as Asian, but sometimes I would wish I didn’t look different from my family.

Over the years, I’ve learned to grow a thick skin.  People make racist comments and sling racist jokes at me, laughing hysterically, like it’s nothing.  Boys date me because they’ve never been with an Asian girl.  Or boys won’t date me because they don’t date outside their own race. All I’ve ever wanted was to fit in. 

Since when did it become so hard to be accepted and treated equally?

I was born in South Korea, abandoned by my birth mother who put me in a basket and left me at a bus stop.  An elderly gentleman found me and dropped me at an orphanage where I spent the first six months of my life.  I have no record of my birth parents and I have no way of tracing them.  Rejected.  Not even my own birth parents wanted me. Now I know where my abandonment issues stem from.

I grew up in a white family (fine, Caucasian, if we’re getting technical here), in a predominantly white neighborhood.  I’m Korean by decent, but I’m American in every other way.

I feel incredibly blessed to be given a second chance at life, and I owe it all to that elderly gentleman and my adopted parents.  I believe I am living a much better life now, than in South Korea.  But I still wonder what my life would have been like, had I stayed.  I wonder who my birth parents are, what they look like (do I resemble more my mother or my father?!), and if I have any siblings.  I wonder if I’ll ever get diagnosed with a genetic disease and not take the necessary precautions because I don’t know my family’s medical history.  And of course, there’s that one question every adoptee thinks about: why did my birth parents really give me up?

When I was younger, I didn’t really have the desire to return to my homeland.  My parents gave me up for a reason, I would convince myself.  But as I got older, and as I opened myself up to the different cultures and their rituals, my desire to return to South Korea grew stronger.  However, one there’s one thing that’s really held me back about not returning: I’m not emotionally prepared to return.

Come to think of it, are we ever really emotionally prepared for anything in our lives?

Last week, I booked a ticket to South Korea.  Two days ago, I boarded that flight.  As you read this now, I’m wandering the streets of Seoul. 

I finally made it back to my birth place.

I wasn’t emotionally prepared for this trip, but I took a chance, because something deep in my heart told me to get here.    Sometimes you just have to throw out that rule book and follow your heart.

 

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Eye of the Storm

posted 19th May 2011    Written by: Bri    CATEGORY: Bri, Love/Relationships

I’ve been a little MIA, but not in a bad way.  I’ve been in that happy place of busy and blissful.

Since I last checked in with you all there has been a flurry of activity.  For starters, Mr. A and I moved in to our first place.  The place that has a second bedroom that will house the little person that is currently growing in my stomach region.  When we take Baby A home from the hospital, this is the place we will bring him/her.  When they’re older and look through old pictures, this place will show up in the images and they probably won’t remember it at all but Mr. A and I will smile and know that this place is where it started.  Our family is starting in this little two bedroom apartment and I am in love with it.

This past weekend, my friends threw me a bridal shower (I’m getting married a week from tomorrow!!) and I think that the feeling of my shower is EXACTLY how I’ve been feeling the past month or so.  In a nutshell:  stress and nerves build and then are quickly eradicated by being surrounded by love and support.  Example:  I met Mr. A’s parent’s this weekend.  I was so nervous!  I wanted them to like me, I wanted to like them.  We’re basically attached now for the rest of eternity, so what if we didn’t get along?!  Then I met them and instantly I was put at ease.  They are amazing, they think I’m amazing.  They’re so excited for everything.  All the nerves were replaced by intense gratitude that THESE are the people I get to call Mom and Dad.  Just that would have been great, but then add on the my family LOVES his family.  They all get along and mutually gush about how great Mr. A and I are together.  They’re all so excited.  They’re completely surrounding us with love and support.  I feel like the world is crazy around us and we should be panicking or, at the very least, crying on occasion but I feel like we’re directly in the middle of the chaos and completely protected by our friends and family.

I’m incredibly lucky and I am fully aware of this.  There are a million places along the road the past few months that things could have gone horribly awry.  To start with, Mr. A could have bolted that night I told him I was pregnant, hell he could have bolted any night since then.  Instead, we are learning to lean on each other, and we’re getting better at it every single day.  We assure each other that despite our imperfections, no one is bolting and you can feel how secure we are.  It makes the craziness seem manageable.

My grandparents did not have the best reaction to the whole pregnancy thing and they could have stayed that way, but instead they’ve transitioned to being really excited and supportive (Which is hugely important because I don’t know if I could do this without their support).

Basically, from the outside we know appears a little crazy still, but every single person who spends sometime with us sees immediately that we’re going to be just fine, and that helps us believe it too.

(The picture is from my bridal shower.  We got to make our own creme brulee!  This face is pure joy.)

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