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Looking Back to move Forward

posted 22nd December 2010    Written by: Nikki    CATEGORY: All Posts, Events, Inspiration, Life Lesson, Nikki, Season 3, Travel, Travel/Adventure, What I've Learned

2010.  It sounds like the future, doesn’t it?  Twenty-ten.  It doesn’t sound like a real year to me, and yet, it is, and very soon, it will be a real year in my past.  Unbelievable.

The holidays are here and with them comes the end of the year and inevietably, self-reflection.  Preparing ourselves for our winkingly optimisitc new year’s resolution, we look back on our year to see where we went wrong, what we want to do better, what we want to change in the clean slate of next year.  While I’m all for that, and a big fan of positive, purposeful change, I think part of why we all break our resolutions (and SO soon – most years, I don’t even get through January!!) is that we’re forming them from a negative place.  We resolve to eat healthier because we feel fat.  We resolve to work harder because we feel unsuccessful.

What if, instead of focusing on what we didn’t do in the last year, we focused on what we did do, what made us feel happy and alive, and resolved to bring more experiences like that into our lives, so that our ultimate resolutions were to have more of those good feelings, spurred on by happy memories instead of guilt and disappointment?

I’m gonna try it.  2010 has been a freaking ridiculous, cry-until-my-eyes-won’t-open, laugh-until-I-can’t-breathe, terrifyingly joyful year.  There are a lot of things I could resolve to change in my life and be more healthy, more productive, more stable.  But when I think about those things, I feel bad; noticing the lack of them invalidates the amazing year I’ve had.  So, instead, here’s a reflection on my past year and some truly positive intentions/resolutions for 2011.

I intend to trust with an open mind & open heart.

The biggest thing 2010 has taught me is to let go of control.  My whole life, I’ve always had a plan and tried to control how that plan unfolds.  I held on too tightly to the things I thought I wanted and I pushed the things I didn’t think I wanted away too forcefully.  It led to confusion, frustration, and, interestingly, left me feeling powerless.  2010 demolished all the plans I’d made for myself.  It swooped in under the fireworks at Airlie Beach, Australia, picked me up & started running, like I was a football under the arm of the quaterback, and that dude is way too burly to fight.  2010 gave me what I wanted when I didn’t want it; it gave me a job when I was about to leave, an apartment when I was furniture-less, an adventure when I was getting settled.  But, as terrifying as it was to be plowing along headfirst down the football field, it was reassuring to remember I’ve got the QB on my side, and the less I resisted, the more fun it became.

I couldn’t have predicted even a third of this year; it knocked me off my feet & onto my ass more than a few times, but I’m so glad I went along for the ride.  It brought more amazing things than I ever could’ve planned for.  Being open to the unexpected things that pop up in life makes life less of a struggle and more fun, and makes me a hell of a lot happier.

I intend to seek out new experiences.

I started the year across the world from home, living with a family that took me in the first week they met me, taking a road trip with a boy I’d known less than a month.  It continued with a planned move across the country, a road trip to see  the US, which, in the blink of an eye, changed to 10 days roadtripping California with my momma and a month of crashing on friends couches.  I acted in a major feature film.  I moved in with strangers.  I took 6 weeks to fly around the country & see cities I’d never been to and friends I’d been dying to visit.  I started a new job, and got thrown right into the thick of it immediately.  I started writing for Escape Hatcher and Stratejoy, and found this amazing community of people on the internet.

Not every year will be as full of major adventures as 2010 has been, I realize.  If they all were, I’d probably end up having a mental breakdown just from pure exhaustion!  But I want to keep in mind that experiencing new things on a fairly regular basis keeps me from getting bored & feeling stagnant.  Even if it’s just taking a Saturday to explore an LA neighborhood I haven’t been to, or learning something new just for fun, I need to create adventures for myself to keep myself feeling fulfilled & creatively challenged.

I intend to be patient & remember that my path is specific to me.

Most of the anxiety in my life comes from me comparing myself to other people.  I look at my friends lives, especially those that are married with career-type jobs, and I feel like I’m not where I “should” be.  But when I was traveling this year and really in the moment, I felt so happy, and really felt a clarity that I am exactly where I need to be and everything is unfolding in its own time.  If I’d forced myself to have the life I thought I was supposed to have, I wouldn’t have been able to take most, if any of the opportunities that came my way this year.  Not to mention, I’d probably be miserable!

It can be hard to hold onto sometimes, but I will keep reminding myself of how it felt to scuba dive the reef, to cruise down the CA coast, to kayak Austin, the thrill of having no idea what’s next or who I’ll meet – to combat those days of low-down-dirty shoulds.  I’ve never dreamed of a normal white-picket-fence life, and even when I do have a career & a family, it will be my way, because it’s my unique life.  I’m exactly where I need to be, right here, right now, and it’s incredible.

2010 has been what I needed it to be and I trust 2011 will be too.  It’s been a year of feet on the dashboard, toothy smiles and too-loud laughs, sing-alongs, hammocks, looking down on the clouds, long hugs, dreams fulfilled, anxiety and excitement, new friends, old friends, take-offs and landings, Skype calls, ridiculous parties, nesting instincts, nomadic whims, writing and writing and writing.  It’s been a year for me to wander and a year for me to sit still.  2010 has made me grow and made me think; it’s prepared me for the hailstorm of joy & productivity that 2011 will bring.  And I can’t wait.

[photo: new years 2010 in Australia - I'm far right]

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How Did We Get So Lucky?

posted 9th December 2010    Written by: Marian    CATEGORY: All Posts, Life Lesson, Marian, Season 3, Spirituality, What I've Learned

On Thanksgiving day I wrote a post about the things I was thankful for. The post – and list – was neither unique nor exciting. It included my family, dog, boyfriend, job, friends. Blah blah blah. Obviously not in that order. Of course. My dog always comes first.

But the point is, I’m an incredibly lucky person. And I wish I didn’t forget that all the damn time.

It may not be Thanksgiving, but maybe that’s even more of a reason to remind myself that despite my lack of money, desire to lose a few pounds and frustration at my own mood swings, I have it pretty damn good.

I grew up in an obscenely wealthy neighborhood. My boyfriend does the dishes without complaint. He offers to do the dishes. I’m in good health. I’ve never been subject to extreme race or sexism. I’ve never been abused. I’ve never been hungry. I always have clothes. In fact, I have too many clothes. I have a walk-in closet. I’ve traveled the world. I’m in love with with the coolest person ON EARTH.

Basically, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Sometimes a bad thing happens: I was held for two days in detainment when trying to get into England. I was groped on the streets by a group of guys and I stood there and did nothing. I wasted seven years of my life with an emotionally abusive guy. I was on anti-depressants for years.

And still? My life is so damn good it baffles me.

How is it possible that millions upon millions of people are starving or murdered or raped? How can I sit writing this in the third floor of my Greenwich, CT house while someone, somewhere, is getting shot?

How are my brothers perfectly healthy – though troublesome – while my best friend’s brother just recently died?

Why do some people luck out and others are doomed before they even have a chance?

And do we all “get it” in the end? Will I crash on the way to New Zealand? Will my whole family die in some horrific crash? (I didn’t crash. I’m editing this while in my new bedroom. Photos to come!)

Wow. Depressing, Marian. Cut it out.

It’s funny, because I’m not a doom and gloom kind of girl. Sure, I took some happy drugs in college because I was going through a horrific break-up, but I’m pretty much fine. And horrific? Well, it sucked, but I’m alive.

Basically, I don’t really think about this stuff often. Sure, I lucked out, but I’ll donate the occasional $20 to some charity or serve at a soup kitchen and be done with it. I don’t often reflect on the fact that I’m in the top whatever percent in the world.

God, even the fact that I’m writing on a site about “strategies for joy” is ridiculous if you think about it. We’re all in this position where we’ve lucked out so hard that we don’t have to think about the fact that we ate this morning and instead can focus on what we want out of our lives. Spiritually. Romantically. Whatever.

Honestly, I am – we are – so fucking lucky. Think about it. For a second. Thank your God or your spirit tree or mom or whoever for the fact that you are on this blog right now and no matter what work you have to finish or drama going on with that friend of yours. You are so absurdly well off. Take advantage of it. Just don’t jump out of a plane or anything to test your luck because I am totally not responsible.

[photo credit: mtsofan]

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You Gotta Have Faith

posted 17th November 2010    Written by: Nikki    CATEGORY: All Posts, Nikki, Season 3, Spirituality

Lately, I’ve been spouting off a lot about TRUST.  How I’m trusting that I am where I need to be and that where I’m headed is the right direction.  I’m trusting that things will work out and I’m trusting that all these opportunities I’m saying yes to will somehow come together to form this great big lovely life I want.  When people ask what I’m doing, I say, “trusting,” and they don’t know what to say to that because it makes me sound like some guru-level wise woman who sweats patience and benevolently chuckles at their ant-like scurrying.

But I am sooooo not.

It’s damn hard to trust.  And what am I trusting, anyway?  “The Universe” isn’t like some shady boyfriend; you can’t check it’s phone for guilty texts and it can’t prove itself by maintaining eye contact when a miniskirt struts by.  I can sit down and have a talk with it about how I want to be treated, but it’s a one-sided conversation.  How do I know that I even should be trusting?

Well, I don’t.  And it freaks me out sometimes.  When I slam into a figurative detour sign on the road I’m speeding down (which has happened a LOT lately) I flip.  I get nervous and anxious and start to question myself and where I was headed.  But then, I choose to trust.  I could figure out a way around the detour sign or ram it down with my car, but I choose to believe that it’s there for a reason, and follow it.

I don’t know where I’d be if I HAD run over the detour and kept on my merry way, but I’m pretty happy with where I am now; I can’t think of much – if anything – in my past I would change, and therefore, my faith has never led me wrong.

I believe in a higher power.  You can call it God (I do) or Yaweh or Jesus or Buddha or Elohim or Allah or The Universe or Frank.  I don’t think it cares what you call it, I believe it cares that we live with love and positive intention.  I don’t mean to offend anyone who thinks differently; there are many religious views I disagree with and I expect to be disagreed with on mine by someone.  It’s ok, we can still be friends.

The God I believe in created us all, loves us all and wants us all to love each other.  The Universe I believe in is the way that all things are connected under God, and it responds to my energy because it is part of me.  When I do good and feel good, I get good in return.  When I am negative and angry, I get that right back too.  I see this manifest in my life and so I believe it.  I feel the presence of God in every moment of gratitude and in every good thing.  When I feel secure, when I feel loved, when I feel happy and my gut instinct is singing a tuning forks perfect pitch, I feel that God is with me, so I believe.

Simple as that.

I could be wrong.  I’m only human.  My idea of God is only what I’ve experienced & a lot of people experience it differently.  But I figure, even if I am wrong, it’s led me to live a life of joy, kindness and calm.  I try to do good and feel happy, and help others to live the same way, and there’s no amount of religious dogma or rational argument that can convince me that’s not the right way to live.

So, when I trust, I am trusting in God’s wisdom and love, The Universe’s safety-net web of intention & connection, and my own gut instinct, guided by both.  When I trust, I release my idea of the outcome in order to let better things in.  When I trust, I can enjoy each moment.  When I trust, I am taken care of.

And I don’t need some dude’s text messages to tell me that.

[photo source]

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Guts.

posted 3rd November 2010    Written by: Nikki    CATEGORY: Events, Nikki, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 3, What I've Learned

I have a confession to make: I’m in therapy.

No, I have never been diagnosed with any sort of mental instability or chemical imbalance; I’m not depressed or manic-depressive, and I didn’t have an overly traumatic childhood.  In fact, I’m generally a pretty happy person.  So why do I go to therapy, you ask?

Now before you go judging me thinking I’m “sooooo LA” and picturing me in big designer sunglasses, texting on my bedazzeled Ed Hardy iphone in sweatpants two sizes too small with JUICY written on the ass while I drone on about me, me, me to my tuned-out therapist, put your stereotypes on hold for a second.

I started going to therapy at the advice of a close friend who had never thought she’d be in therapy.  We both had the attitude of, oh, sure therapy’s great for someone with problems but it’s not for me.  But when she started getting ulcers from anxiety and I hit my QLC, neither of us could navigate through all these feelings alone.  Friends were great, but, let’s face it, no one wants to sit for hours listening to someone else’s problems, and, even more than that, I wasn’t about to pull out my guts and show everyone all my neuroses and fears.  Hell no.

So I started going to therapy.  And I judged myself.  I thought, geez, Nikki, you are such a freaking whiner.  Really, you think she wants to sit here and listen to you talk about how acting sucks and your heart’s broken and your parents are getting a divorce?  Oh waah waah, baby, that happens to millions of people, every day.  Get a real problem.

Then one day I told her that I felt stupid being upset about these things, and that I thought I should just be able to deal with it all on my own, and what the hell is wrong with me that I can’t deal with it all on my own, and I’m sorry that I’m wasting her time with my petty issues.  She looked me straight in the eyes, told me to look at her, to trust her, that these are NOT petty things and I am NOT stupid and that I have every right to be here and every right to feel what I feel.  These are difficult things to deal with, and we’re going to deal with them together.  Period.

From that moment on, I trusted her and started to trust myself.  I am always completely honest in therapy (otherwise, what’s the point?) even when I feel like I’m being silly or melodramatic; there’s always something bigger, deeper, less obvious under those “silly” feelings.  Being in a safe environment like that gives me permission to explore my deepest fears and confront my demons, and I almost always find that whenever I am in a tough spot and have a seemingly impossible question, somewhere inside I know the answer.  I can’t even tell you how many “AHA!” moments I’ve had, or how many times I’ve broken down in pain.

I think it’s ironic that in our society we tend to see people who need therapy or counseling or any sort of help as weak, because when done honestly, it’s one of the hardest things a person can do.  To really face yourself, without pretense or bullshit, to say all the hateful things we tell ourselves in the privacy of our own minds, out loud, to explore the things that keep us awake at night – these take guts.  They are effing scary as shit. It takes a strong person to get through it.

Therapy has made me know myself better than I ever could have without it.   It has helped me understand how my mind works; instead of repeating bad habits, wondering why does this always happen to me, I catch myself and, even if I can’t yet change the pattern, I’m no longer the victim.  It has given me the power to choose my thoughts, the clarity to make big decisions, and the self-love to move forward in a positive direction.

Therapy, for me, is not about changing myself or getting past some roadblock, and it’s certainly not just hollywood-stereotype narcissism.   It is about understanding who I am and what I need at my honest core, growing, accepting, and choosing to be conscious of my thoughts and actions.

[photo: the awesome journal my therapist got me when I left for Australia :) ]

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Meaning in the Mountains

posted 10th September 2010    Written by: Alisha    CATEGORY: Alisha, Family, Job/Career/Work, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 3, Travel, Travel/Adventure, What I've Learned

I went to Colorado to get away–to vacate.  I went to breathe the fresh air, worship the mountains, drink in the sunsets.  I went to love.  I went to share.  I went to be inspired.  I went to be still.

Instead, my days were filled with tension.  My Blackberry wasn’t on my hip, but I could hear it buzzing in my purse.  Each morning I woke up well before dawn, unable to sleep, anxious about work.

About three months ago I was propositioned by a friend to work with her on a new retail e-commerce business.  She emailed me the role and its responsibilities.  It all seemed so overwhelming so I asked her for a few days to think it over.  My gut told me to say “no”.  Intuition told me that my day-job as a stay-at-home mom was just too intense at the moment to take on another time-consuming project.  However, my mind wanted to reason with me.  It promised to deliver big in the money department; I saw the potential and the money-hungry part of me responded.  It gently coaxed me into accepting the position.  I ignored my gut–my intuition–and I have paid dearly for it.

Though I am proud of what I have accomplished in my role (contract negotiations, copywriting, hiring interns, accounting), it came with great sacrifice.  I let it hijack my life.  The time I used to spend on my morning pages was replaced with reconciling emails.  I have not written in my blog in almost three weeks and I have not read any of them either.  Time spent at the park was instead spent indoors writing copy.  Playdates were shortened or eliminated; dry-cleaning was forgotten; loads of laundry sat in corners and in closets unfolded.  If I was sleep deprived before, I was even more so now.  Coffee intake increased in order to compensate for the late-night hours I spent researching,writing, emailing.

I kept telling myself that this was only temporary; that I just needed to put in this time now in order for the reward later.   But my kids weren’t happy.  My husband wasn’t happy.  I wasn’t happy.   Around the time I started to finally accept this, was about the same time I finished up Week 1 of The Joy Equation.  As I sat there and looked at my core values (Authenticity, Abundance, Connection, Family, Freedom, Integrity, Spirituality, Trust) I realized that the way I was living my life at the moment was not in accordance with those values.  I didn’t want to quit; I had made a committment after all.

But finally, after tossing and turning for the first 4 nights of my 6-night vacation, I sent a letter to my friend requesting a decrease in responsibilities.  It was granted.  The last two nights I slept like a baby.

There was something about those mountains…. Their beauty, their strength, the stories they tell.  In a way, they reminded me of myself–of what I hope to be: a story-teller, strong, majestic, inspiring.  In those mountains I found some strength to set a boundary, to acknowledge what does and does not work in my life, and the courage to change it.  Let this be a recurring theme.

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