It’s hard for me to imagine that in 2 short months, I won’t be in New Jersey. Chances are, I’ll be over 500 miles away.
I’ll undoubtedly miss some things, like cheese steaks and Tastykakes. But, the things one would normally miss in life? Those are a different story.
My biggest problem with moving isn’t the traditional regret or indecision. For the first time in my life, I’ve made a decision and I’m actually sticking to it. Ask around, I tend to not make decisions about anything in my life including where to go for dinner or what I want for my birthday.
My number one reason for this insanity being that I don’t want to offend or impose on anyone else. Even if I have to put my own wants and preferences aside, it’s always been worth it to make others happy.
I am however finding the overall guilt of moving to be overwhelming. It’s not even a guilt that I’m leaving so many people behind. I’m relatively certain that they’ll be fine without me. Rather, I feel guilty for not feeling more guilty about moving. Follow that one!
I’m leaving behind my father, mother, brother, countless friends, and memories. Though there are moments I quickly think something like “Oh, what will HE do about THAT situation without me?”, I quickly chase it away with the thought that everything will be fine. One of the friends that I told I was moving asked me if I’d miss him. I said yes.
I lied.
I’m not saying that my relationships that I currently have don’t matter. All of my relationships past and present have shaped me into the person that I am today. Independent. Determined. Straight up Crazy. I have many people to thank for their inspiration, but without even a second look back, I’m leaving them and I’m incredibly stoked.
Shouldn’t it be harder for me to leave behind my entire life? Shouldn’t I be able to say “I’ll Miss You” and mean it?
I can’t help but to feel that I don’t belong here. Though I’m surrounded by many friends and family, I feel misunderstood and often unwelcome. Granted, I’ve made my share of mistakes thus far, but is it really fair to feel unwelcome in your own life? Hell no.
Each time I tell someone that I’m leaving, I try to sound somewhat sad. I figure that’s how announcements of long-term moves go, right?
The Moving Girl tells her family and friends she’s moving. Her family and friends try to get her to stay because they’ll miss her. She is touched by such attempts and one lonely tear runs down her face because she too will miss them. That tear is enough to make her decide to stay. She puts aside her own wants, to think of others. Moving girl never moves but always dreams of what life would be life if she did.
I can’t even muster up a tear when I tell people about my decision to relocate. In fact, I get self-aware and make sure I’m not cheesin’ too hard with my wide smile.
That said, I almost feel a little depressed at the thought that I’m not sad to leave anyone. Though my relationships are important to me, are they not “that” important? Have they lost their appeal to me because I don’t find them fulfilling? If they’re so important, shouldn’t I spend some more time nurturing them?
I’ll probably spend the next few weeks thinking this situation into oblivion. I’m certain that the relationships that are strong enough will survive this test of distance.
I’m definite that I will.
I’m a worrier. I worry about everything. Really.
Tell me you have a dentist appointment next Tuesday at 2PM, and I’ll worry about it for you. Who knows what would happen if I didn’t take on this duty? I wouldn’t want you to miss your appointment or anything.
So, as I think of my greatest challenge on this journey of mine, I could easily say that it’s my worrying. Seriously, I’ve got to find a way to stop it already.
Of course, if I said that, I’d know it wasn’t true. Well, not entirely. Let me dig a little deeper.
What’s got me so anxious all the time? Like — why does it matter if the bed isn’t made to my exact specifications each morning, if my bank account drops below some mythical minimum, if I’m not absolutely-exactly-precisely perfect at everything I do? I could go on. Perhaps I could impress you with my single handed ability to turn a tiny pebble into a boulder.
But I digress. What I’m trying to get at is — why is it that I worry so much about everything?
And here’s where I get really honest with you. This is the root of the root: FEAR.
I don’t worry because it’s fun. Or because it’s something to do and I’m just so incredibly bored that I need something useless to take up my time. I worry because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of failing.
With that confession, I’m not sure what else to say. It’s one thing to pin-point the problem. It’s an entirely different beast to actually do something about it.
And here’s the thing about fear. It’s hard to overcome.
I think the best advice I can give myself, or anyone else for that matter, is simply to act. Don’t let fear stop you from taking action, from doing what you most love, from doing what you dream about.
Take a deep breath, and look that fear in the eyes. Tell your fear that it doesn’t win — not this time. Then do exactly what it is you want, even though you’re afraid.
The only way I’ve ever succeeded at dealing with fear is by facing it. Facing my fear doesn’t take the fear away. It doesn’t magically make me confident or make me believe in my own unending powers. (Oh, how I wish it did.) It does, however, help me to realize that fear should not be debilitating.
It helps me to see that I can do what I want and even be successful, in spite of fear.
Overcoming fear to experience a success, no matter how tiny, increases your self efficacy — your belief in yourself and your ability to accomplish the things you want. The more you believe in yourself, the more you’ll be willing to face those fears, to take chances on the things that matter most to you.
So in the spirit overcoming fear, here’s my mantra for the week:
What do you choose to do, in spite of fear?
I’ve been living in San Francisco and managing business operations for Shatterboxx Media for a little over two months now, and do you know what I’ve learned from our clients? That while it’s overwhelmingly hard to describe what you’re looking for, you sure as hell know it when you see it.
Jamie and I work through this process over and over, taking the verbal and turning it into the graphic, and it’s been fascinating for me to watch her transform a bullet pointed Word document into something vibrantly alive, because my mind just doesn’t work that way.
My mind likes two things, details and fantasies, and I have a hard time seeing through the fog that clouds my bigger picture. I’m confident in the small parts of my day, the minute-to-minute wants that are easily defined, the sentences that are short and declarative like “I’m craving French onion soup,” “I want sex,” or “I need 30 minutes to read and take a bath.”
But on any given day, it’s almost impossible for me to articulate my long-term goals.
I’m aware that my overarching dream is most frequently described by saying that “I want to, well, you know, live a sweet life and write and travel and stuff,” but I hit a wall when I push myself to get more specific than that. I loosely understand (and am passionately excited about) the things I want to achieve, like checking every item off my Life List, but the biggest challenge I’m facing right now is how to build a solid foundation that supports my wild and crazy dreams, a foundation that starts with flushing out exactly what those dreams really are in the first place.
Like a graphic design client who is all, “I have no idea, but I like purple! And bold typography! And kittens!” I’m vaguely familiar with what I want, but I feel like I’m running in frenzied circles trying to clarify everything enough to cattle-prod The Universe into making it happen, which leaves me feeling that in regard to my goals, I want everything and know nothing all at once.
Is there an easy button here? Can I buy a dream mapping vowel?
I don’t know, maybe I spend too much time focusing on what I don’t know when I should be focusing on what I do know, and for now, here’s what that is:
I know I want to be a writer with a big giant capital W, thoughtfully telling my stories and living my life out loud. I know I want to be a citizen of the world, traveling wherever I can, saying yes to newness while learning how to let it in without blurring my boundaries and losing myself.
I know I want to be a perpetual student, an open listener, and an unconditional support system for everyone who has gently reached down and pulled me out when I’ve gone tumbling down the rabbit hole. I know I want laughter and hilarity in unlimited quantities, because I know that’s the best way for me to leave each day better than I found it.
I know I want to inspire people to live up to the best possible version of themselves by being spontaneous and creative, honest and positive, confident and kind, hardworking and spiritually alive.
I know I want to learn to spend time in the silence more often, to listen without judgment, love as hard as I can, and then a little harder still, and I know that I want to shape my days around the overwhelming truth that what I put out there is what I’ll get back.
And maybe knowing all of that is enough for now.
photo credit: lululemon athletica
I’ve gone from one extreme to the next.
The first couple of weeks after leaving my day job, I felt unorganized, somewhat scattered. I had difficulty managing my time, and I wasn’t focusing on my writing projects as much as I would have liked.
With a little effort, I found a few ways to turn that around. I started getting up early and setting specific times that I had to get work done. I closed the door and thus closed myself off from the world.
I worked, worked, worked.
Moving from underproductive to uber productive was seriously exciting. I got SO much done. I stayed up late and got up early. I had energy. I felt exhilarated. I re-launched my personal blog, In Search of Squid, got a lot of prewriting done on the novel, and started pumping out blog posts.
I was on fire.
But now, I’ve hit the other side of that wall. I am in desperate need of balance.
You see, last week, I crashed. I had been getting up early and going to bed late. Even when taking a break for dinner or catching up with the fiancé, I had the computer on my lap, and I was responding to blog comments or working on a writing project. General exhaustion and a lack of sleep then took over. I couldn’t sit down to write without my eyelids drooping and feeling the need to take a nap.
Now, this has been my first experience working for myself. I’ve never tried to do this before. And let me tell you, striking a balance between work and all the rest is seriously harder than it looks. My work life and home life have now merged. How does one handle this while maintaining a healthy balance of work, rest and play?
Enter, The Joy Equation.
I had been working through Molly’s Thirty Day Guide to Living Life on Purpose for the past few weeks. Well, let me be more accurate, I’d working on it a little and thinking about working on it a lot. Every time I picked it up, I felt guilty for taking time away from my writing projects. I would eventually set it down with the idea that I could always do more later.
Then, the week of droopy eyelids and utter exhaustion came into play. I realized I needed to slow down. I needed a little perspective and some fresh ways to approach working on my own.
I spent last weekend pondering, journaling and planning. I took a look at what really matters to me and sought new ways to maintain a sense of calm, wellness and balance in my life.
While doing this, I sat down and listened to the first audio session of The Joy Equation. Molly walked me through a guided meditation, then a series of questions and exercises aimed at getting me to unearth my core values. I attempted to figure out – what do I really care about; what values resonate with me; what truly matters?
In the past, I’ve tried to make time to consider my personal core values, and I’ve attempted to align my life in such a way as to be true to myself. I can’t recommend this practice enough. It’s powerful. It opens doors and allows you to see your life in a whole new way. What I love about Molly’s approach is that she really has you work it out. You ask questions, you answer questions, you put it all in writing.
You set intentions for the week, and you find creative ways to really make it work for you.
Sometimes I just need a little nudge, something to give me permission to take time out for myself. This was exactly the nudge I needed. I’ve been so focused on doing the work I love, that I nearly forgot the many other things in life that matter to me too. Identifying my core values helped me to remember this.
In looking at those values, I noticed one thing that continued to show up – my love for being outside and in nature. I really enjoy things like walking, hiking and camping. I love fresh air and green trees and the sight of the ocean.
And then I realized something – I rarely make time to do this.
Why? I’m not sure. I think sometimes we get lost in ourselves, in our daily lives. We forget to do those things that bring us joy, especially when it takes a little extra time, effort or attention.
So I’m taking a cue from my Joy Plan; I’m setting an intention for the week. And that intention is simply to go on a hike.
According to Lao Tzu, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” My journey is to connect with my true, authentic self. In cultivating the powerful habits that will bring me to that authentic self, I must take small steps to get there. This is simply one of those small steps.
I’m also making a commitment to myself: each week, I’ll re-look at my core values. Whichever jumps out at me as something I’ve been overlooking, I’ll take action, and I’ll plan something that honors that value for the week.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. What are some things you do to maintain balance in your own life?
photo credit: janusz l
One of the main reasons I love personal blogs is that I’m fascinated with people’s private lives. I feel like how you act at home is the truest reflection of who you are, and I just can’t get enough of reading about other people’s lives and watching their video blogs and clicking on their Twitpics.
Which is to say, I’m Nicole and I’m a voyeur and I don’t care because it’s so fun and I just can’t help it and the internet makes it so damn easy.
You know what I love the most? The details.
Like, what do you and your husband have for dinner? Do you cuss a lot? What’s the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning? Do you like hiking on the weekends? What color are your walls? And on and on.
My home life, in case you’re just as much of a voyeuristic stalker, is a combination of Trader Joe’s and writing and Snuggies and a wood burning fire place and dancing on the counter to mashup music and wearing my hair in a side ponytail and watching stand up comedy online and I don’t have a husband but my roommate and I eat a lot of pasta for dinner and of course I cuss like crazy and I listen to Bedrock by Young Money when I first wake up and sure hiking sounds fun and my walls are like a sage-ish green.
I think that things like this, the details of our lives, reveal what our values are and what’s most important to us. How we spend our personal time is what defines us, and one of the most defining things about my home life right now (and therefore my life in general), is that I spend the majority of my time at home wearing nothing but a sports bra and boy short underwear.
I know that probably sounds totally bizarre and you’re all, “Wait, what?” but here’s the thing: it’s all about building confidence.
Overall, I think this small act has less to do with being almost naked and more to do with the fact that I’m really just trying to close the gap between who I am and who I want to be, and who I want to be is a woman who’s so overwhelmingly comfortable with her own body that feeling otherwise isn’t an option.
We all do things like this, right? Things that make us feel good and emphasize the fact that even if our over-scheduled lives try to make it otherwise, happiness is something that can’t be dispensable. And I really believe that happiness, the purest happiness, is completely self-defined and that all we need to do is figure out what makes us kick and then run with it, and run hard.
Happiness is a choice. Confidence is a choice.
And lately I’ve been choosing both by jumping around my apartment in my underwear while listening to live versions of John Mayer on YouTube, making tomato sauce, and checking myself out in the mirror. That’s how I’m choosing happiness, choosing confidence…
Your turn.