Archive

Confessions of the Heart

posted 6th July 2011    Written by: Laura    CATEGORY: Creativity, Laura, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 4

A Joy Juice prompt arrived in my inbox this morning. It asked what I really deep down desire for my life right now.

Aside from my core values, my answers are this: Autonomy. Expression. Individuality. Variety. Validation. Profit.

But then, the second part of the prompt challenged whether the things I’m spending my time on relate to those desires. In many ways, the answer is yes. But if I were to be brutally honest with myself (and now, with anyone in the entire world who lands here), I would admit there are a few things I’ve been fantasizing about lately that I’m not proactively working towards.

There are these fleeting thoughts that come in and out of my mind, sometimes daily, and they often look / sound the same. But I haven’t really done anything to capture them or to help them gain any traction. Until now, they’ve been unexpressed wonders, rather than legitimate possibilities for my life. But I’m changing that today, by sharing them with you and shifting them into intentions.

I intend to transcend the boundary between creative writing and business writing. That’s a mouthful. What I mean is, I want my writer’s soul to guide the way, as it does when one writes creatively, but I want show others the value that powerful and interesting word-smithing can have in a business setting.

As part of this transcendance, I intend to raise the bar on the amount of character and personality in the services I offer for money. I intend to have more conviction in my mad skills.

And as part of doing that, I envision a business website that is rich with sharing clarity, lessons learned and rules broken. Like, a website so groovy and thought provoking that lots of people bookmark it!

And so, I intend to be more disciplined in creating such a website. I intend to stop talking and thinking about how to do things differently and JUST DO THAT SHIT.

By the end of the year, I intend to create a place on the Internet that is a visual representation of my brain. Somewhere for people who appreciate clarity and self-care to gather, if only for a few moments a week. Why? Because I know I have insight and ideas to share with the world. Even if that world is only 20 people, it’s a start. I want a space where I can share my best thinking and my soul stirring moments, without the pressure of relating them to the brand of my business, at least for now.

I intend to create art. And more importantly, I want to do-away with feeling like I should first become a master. It’s not that I’m averse to learning and improving, I’m not. But I am frustrated by the self-imposed notion that I need to educate myself in a craft before I can try it. So what if I don’t have a Master’s degree in creative writing or a Bachelor’s degree in fine arts? The reality is I’ll probably never have one, and that’s not even really what I’m after.

What if I just have some creative talent waiting to burst out? In fact, I know I do, I just haven’t figured out how to express it.

Also? I see a book. I know, I’ve talked about this before. But this time, I can see it. It’s a combination of short-form writing, nuggets of clarity and love letters, all directed at the reader to help them gain clarity about a specific subject of their lives.

There. Sharing that wasn’t so bad.

But the real test lies ahead. In order to reach these intentions, I really need to push. I need to extend out of my comfort zone, beg for help, experiment, do things I’ve never, ever done before.

They’re intentions that my former success-oriented, output-driven self would have buried, because I couldn’t be guaranteed to assertively tackle them, with confidence and efficiency. I suppose it’s a big step to even let them bubble up to the surface. But now that they’re here – staring all of us in the face – I figure I should endeavour to make some progress. Except, I’m not sure how and I’m afraid of what might happen if I do. Whether my efforts are wildly successful or miserable failures, they’re likely to lead me into totally unfamiliar territory.

The fact that I’m even considering going there means I have you – yes, you, Molly and the Stratejoy tribe – to thank. So Thank You, team, for being good listeners and cheerleaders, and allowing my heart to confess to you.

But now that you’ve got us into this mess, do you have any suggestions for where the hell I should start?

{Photo credit}

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I’m Fiercely Protective. Of Myself.

posted 23rd March 2011    Written by: Laura    CATEGORY: Laura, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 4

After last week’s doozy of a post about money, I figure I might as well keep the trend of confessing my crazies going. Here’s the latest: I’m fiercely protective. Of myself. And I’m not sure I can help it.

I’ve referred to this strong sense of independence before. I’ve admitted to being afraid of those three big words (I need you). And, I’ve admitted that exploring vulnerability has been a big, life changing deal for me. That’s true. Taking on business partners? Vulnerable. Getting engaged five months ago? Vulnerable. Last week’s money post? Vulnerable. Having a money talk with Hunny that same week? Vulnerable.

I’m definitely working on it.

But as I do, I’m realizing that I don’t think if I’ll ever let myself be fully exposed. Like, if I equate it to being naked, I’ll forever be leaving my socks on or something. You know?

Because I’m thinking: there’s a fine line between being totally real and open and sharing your soul, and losing your soul altogether. At least, that’s what it feels like to me. I think I’m starting to push where that line IS, shifting it inch by inch. But for me, it’s probably always going to be there.

I’m absolutely terrified of losing myself in other people. I’m absolutely terrified of forgetting how to stand on my own. And I absolutely refuse to share my soul to the point where I can’t see where mine starts, and someone else’s begins.

I’m not just talking in the romantic sense, either. I’ve always felt the need to protect my soul from everyone. My family, my friends, my boss, my clients, and now my business partners, too. Not because I don’t trust people or love them. I do.

But regardless, I need to know that I’ll still have something left inside if the people and things I know were to go away. I need to feel enough strength of self that I could endure tragedy, loss, divorce, confusion, and simple day to day uncertainties and still have some sense of who I am.

To me, that means:

These are my ideals; they’re not absolutes. They’re things I work toward and perspectives I try to maintain. But they’re a work in progress and are most definitely fragile. Perhaps most importantly, they’re where I am right now. And where I might be for a while.

What do you think? Am I crazy? Young and naive? Too guarded? Unrealistic? Idealistic?

I’m curious to know how where I’m coming from compares to where you’re coming from. Go on, spill!

(P.S. Confession #3: Part of the reason I’ve been able to own up to this stuff and share it with you guys is Molly, and her gentle questioning, poking, encouraging, and coaching that I SO appreciate. I love to hate her tough questions; they lead me to realizations like the one I just shared. If you’re looking for some more insight into YOU, or a whole host of other benefits that working with her offers, you should apply for her first-ever scholarship. But hurry, applications are due Sunday.)

{Photo credit}

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Confessions of a Hollywood Dropout (pt.2)

posted 18th August 2010    Written by: Nikki    CATEGORY: All Posts, Job/Career/Work, Love/Relationships, Nikki, Season 3, Travel, Travel/Adventure

Last spring, I was burned out.  I was a frustrated actor who felt like a zombie, going from uninspiring day job to hours in traffic to uninspiring auditions.  LA had me convinced that it was the only place that mattered & if I couldn’t make it here, well, I’d failed.  I was majorly unhappy and just going through the motions, bottling it up so I wouldn’t have to admit my unhappiness and therefore make a change.

Then, one day, I cracked.  And that crack let so much light in, it was stunning.

Except I didn’t notice it at first.  I was tightly blindfolded by feelings of failure and fear.  But light has a way of seeping through the dark and finding you, even when you’ve got a hangover headache & have buried yourself beneath the sheets.  Especially then.

So, I declared myself done with acting.  DONE.  Its success was too out of my control, too intangible, too taunting.  I came to a standstill.  And I was angry.  I was mad at the industry for being so fickle, I was mad at my teachers for telling me I was talented, I was mad at myself for even trying; I’d become the Hollywood stereotype, one of the locusts swarming off the bus seeking fame & fortune, and leaving without a penny or a credit to their name.

I couldn’t even stand to listen to people talk about movies.

At the height of this pessimism-party I was throwing myself, some friends convinced me to join an artists collective that was creating an original play.  I was skeptical and creatively barren, but attending the meetings started to shift something inside me.  These people were seriously inspiring.  After a few months of contributing nothing and feeling useless, suddenly all my frustrations and fears and passions poured out of me, uncontrollable and raw, in the form of a monologue.  It was sad and funny, and when I tentatively read it for the group, they insisted it be the opening piece of the show.  It had been born not in spite of my crisis, but because of it, and reminded me I am still an artist, no matter what. I contributed two original pieces to the show, which ended up being one of the most amazing projects I’ve ever worked on, with one of the most inspiring groups of people I know.

And I was back!  …Somewhat.

I still was crisis-ing, still boycotting the film industry, still single, and I still had no clue what I wanted to do with my life, but at least I was creating again.  The light crept in and I started to feel alive.

During all of this, I was planning & saving for a trip to Australia.  For years I’d talked about going and this seemed like the perfect time; I wanted to run away, where better than the other side of the world?  Everything fell into place – I got a temporary job working an arts festival there, got my visa, ticket, and couldn’t wait to see my old college roommate who’d gone to London with me years ago & had been living in Australia since.

I needed this change, I was ready to go & not look back – and then The Ex re-entered the picture.  He’d been around, after 5 years together we had a lot of the same friends, and we’d done the whole messy “hook-back” thing, but this time was different.  This time we were honest.  We talked about why we broke up, what we needed in a relationship and who we were now, after 4 years apart.  It was intense.  He wanted us to try again after my trip; I left feeling confused.  I’d had such a hard time letting go of him and I still cared about him so much, but… but…

I got on the plane with a head full of the past and a heart fighting to understand the present.  I needed to get away.

I could write an entire blog solely about Australia.  (In fact, I did.) How being alone in a strange city, in a strange country, on a strange continent helped me find the freedom in lonely.  How making friends comes easily when everyone’s the new kid, and how conversations with strangers can be oh so fulfilling.  How much easier it is without the burden of things, of history, of expectations.  How much stronger I am than I knew or remembered.

And I met an Aussie boy; while it wasn’t quite love, it taught me more in 2 months than my 4 years being single.  He showed me what I was worth, after years of not valuing myself much.

Little by little, I let go of all the anger, fear, and “what ifs” that had been shadowing me for years.  Little by little, I let the hot Australian sunshine in.  Between the bright red earth and the stunning blue sky, I realized my life was so much bigger than I’d imagined, and I let go.

After four months (twice as long as I’d originally planned to be gone), I wasn’t ready to come back home.  It felt like I had just experienced a whole other life in the short time I was away.  But in that life I’d grown & achieved some clarity; I’d realized no career or idea of success was worth giving up all the other things in my life that make me happy.  And nothing was worth sacrificing my own self-worth.

I decided to move to DC and live with my Mom for a year to bring some balance into my life, save money, and figure out my next step.  I sold my furniture, got out of my apartment lease, and threw myself a goodbye party… and then got the call that I’d been cast in a feature film.

It terrifyingly changed all my plans, but I took the part.  It was one of the best things I’ve ever done.

Now I’m still crisis-ing, still single, still in LA, and still have no clue what I want to do with my life, BUT I’m trusting.  I’ve pulled off the blindfold, woken up blinking in the bright morning of this new chapter of my life, and I’m letting the light pour in.  I honestly have no idea what will happen in the next week or month – I don’t even know where I’ll be living in October – but I’m OK with it.  For once in my life, I’m not trying to plan or control anything.  I’m letting life happen and I’m trusting that I am exactly where I need to be, right now and always.

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Confession: Moving Did Not Make Me Happy

posted 14th May 2010    Written by: Katie    CATEGORY: Katie, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 2, Stratejoy the Biz, What I've Learned

I’ve been moved into my new place for a little over a month now. I thought for sure this would be it; the end of my long battle with depression. Over the last few months, I did some intense soul searching and discovered some things that I wasn’t happy with in my life and made a commitment to change them. Number one on my list was my living conditions.

The opportunity to move in with two awesome roommates presented itself, and I jumped on it.

I pictured my move in day in my head a million times. It would be similar to Carrie walking into the apartment of her dreams with Mr. Big. (Shameless Sex and the City reference. I’ve been reliving the entire season on DVD courtesy of Netflix. And now I’m constantly making references, or pretending my life has a voice over like Carrie Bradshaw. “…And then, I made dinner. And then, I watched a sappy love flick. …and then I whipped out my rabbit, and thought, ‘is this what life has come to? Dinner, a Movie and Sex. Alone?’)

…moving on….

I pictured my move in day to be perfect. I’d walk into the house and all of my troubles, fears, and bad memories would disappear. We’d all sit around and play board games every night, and whenever I had a problem, I’d sit down and talk to my roommates and we’d find a solution. At the end, we’d hug it out while 90′s love ballads  played in the background. And I’d live happily ever after.

My move in day came and I excitedly packed my things and moved. No one was home to welcome me, and no one helped me move. I did it alone. I’ve taken part in a lot of moves, and the majority have been big parties of people drinking beer and eating pizza. Then, sitting around a table playing cards.

That didn’t happen for me at all.

The days that followed my move in weren’t what I thought they’d be either. My roommates both work many hours, and I work from home, so for the most part I’m alone. Which, ideally may sound great but I’m literally in bed right before or after my roommates get home from work. We don’t play board games around the kitchen table.

I haven’t shared my problems with them yet.

I haven’t shared it with you guys over the last few weeks, but I’m going to now; I’ve been having… just a tough time. Several times people close to me have caught me staring off into space and said  ”Katie, where are you? You look like you’re in your head.” They’re right. My mind is constantly going. Moving wasn’t enough to make me happy. I want more. I need more. I deserve more.

I need to make a confession right now. I never finished the Stratejoy program. I started it, did a decent amount of it, told Molly I wanted to blog on behalf of the clan of twenty and thirty somethings, and I just… stopped. I was in a happy place, and I stopped. You might not consider this a big deal, but I feel like I’ve been leading you all on. How many posts have I encouraged you all to do the program? How many times have I said it saved my life, literally? These claims aren’t lies, not in the least.

However, I never got the full benefit of the Joy Equation: A 30-Day Guide To Living Life On Purpose. Because, like most things, I didn’t finish it.

So, what does this have to do with my move and being miserable?

How I realized that I wanted to move was by making a list of things I wanted to change. As I said, Number one was moving. I did that, and while it was liberating and made a big difference, I stopped there. Soon, my “new house” wasn’t my “new house”. I’m not introduced as the “new roommate” anymore. I started my list, but stopped. I felt good for a moment and tried to live off of that life high forever instead of constantly creating new experiences.

It takes a lot of courage to start something, but it takes even more to keep on going with it.

Here and now, friends, family, people I haven’t met, I’m making a commitment. Two, actually.

Number One: I’m moving on to number two of my “Life Changes” list. “Save $1000 over 6 months by not going out as often.”

Number Two: I’m heading over to get another brand new Stratejoy plan today and I’m going to complete it, beginning to end. Can you do me a huge favor? Will you do it with me? I kind of like being held accountable, and if I know others are doing it too, it encourages me to stick with it. Kind of like running. Or streaking through the streets of Philadelphia.

Just kidding about the last part.

Kind of.

Come on. Will you do it with me? (Yes, Of Course! /  No)

…I dare you to click ‘No.’

If you are doing this with me, leave me a little comment here, so I know who you are, and can have us T-shirts made with Molly’s face on them. Nothing says “I love you” like wearing someone’s face across your boobs.

At the very least, promise me that you’ll take the next step in something in your life right now. Maybe it’s your life list. Maybe it’s the next step in a home/apartment remodel. Maybe it’s the next chapter in the novel or memoir that you’re writing. Whatever it is, promise yourself that you’re going to move forward.

And when it doubt, remember to just take the next step.

Sometimes it’s a blind leap, but take it anyway.

*photo credit: aesum

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