Intentionality

When I was growing up, my mom’s friend, Zdenka, would often come over to babysit my sisters and I. She was in her 50s at the time, but had a spunky youthful spirit. She had a thick Czech accent and later I would learn how she immigrated to America from Czechoslovakia when she was a teenager to escape the Soviet military. Whenever Zdenka came over it was an adventure to say the least. She was the most free-spirited person I’ve ever met. Though her professional career was dentistry, she was also an artist and outdoor enthusiast. The hours she would watch us consisted of covering the kitchen with art materials, teaching us yoga, going on long walks down to the ravine, picking apples off the neighbor’s tree and trying to make apple sauce with them.

When she was diagnosed with breast cancer, she let us four girls cut her hair since it was going to fall out soon. We didn’t understand the gravity of the situation then, but had a blast pretending to be hair stylists. My parents refused to let us have a dog, saying it was a money issue, so she bought us one. She always brought us gum and let us play with her lipstick. She survived breast cancer 3 times, but died in 2011 from internal bleeding in her brain.

I was a freshman in high school at the time, and the news was crushing. Her life story alone was inspiring, but while I don’t remember all the details, the way she impacted mine is unforgettable. No story I could tell about her would do justice to actually meeting her. The memories have started to fade, but I am continually reminded of one of her qualities I most admired: how she chose to live intentionally. “Intentional” in the dictionary is defined as “done on purpose, deliberate; with awareness; determination to act in a certain way.” One of the best role models of this type of living who’s timeline crossed mine was Zdenka.

Some of the ways she lived intentionally was choosing to react to whatever life threw at her with a positive outlook and/or turning it into an adventure. I can’t imagine being diagnosed with cancer three times, but she still found a a way to laugh at having silicone boob inserts, pulling them out every once in a while to freak us out. She never compromised being herself in any area of her life, including fashion. She made time to have fun and pursue careers she loved.

From reflecting on her life and this concept of living intentionally, I realized that it is not trying to control everything around you, but rather responding to life, engaging in dialogue with it. By living intentionally, we are mindful of time spent, we are fully immersed into experiences that matter. Our everyday actions are the most impacting factor of this lifestyle. When we consistently choose to live intentionally each day, no time is wasted. Choosing to live intentionally is the only real choice we have in being alive.

We either live with intention or exist by default.

Kristin Armstrong

Thoughts from Saturday

Last Saturday, I was over at my parents’ house and somehow got nominated to take out a tree in their front yard. It was a Christmas tree type–about twice as tall as me. My mom had already started cutting branches off, so I just had to finish trimming it down and then take out the stump. With just a hand saw and a pair of clippers, I started hacking away at it. I got it down to the stump and brought out the sledge hammer, shovel, and pick-axe to finish the job.

While I was having fun pretending to be a lumber jack, my sister came out with the mower and started mowing the front yard. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a car drive by slowly. I looked up to see a neighbor waving to get our attention. “You girls are awesome!!!” he yelled, and drove past. About 5 minutes later, he walked down with two of his daughters and was pointing at us. I couldn’t hear him over the mower, but by his facial expressions and hand gestures, it was clear he was communicating something that I imagine went a little like this: “See girls! Look at what they’re doing here, aren’t you inspired to go do this in our yard?? Doesn’t that look fun?” What he actually was saying, I’ll probably never know.

I imagined what we would have looked like to those two little girls wearing their dresses and bows…probably crazy. When I was their age, I was a hardcore tomboy. However, through the years I have grown to embrace my feminine side. I still rock climb and have mud fights, but wear fake nails and high heels an hour later. About a year ago exactly, I was planning to embark on a backpacking adventure to hike Devil’s Path in New York, for 3-5days. This is a pretty grueling trail, gaining about 8,471 feet over 20 miles. I remember telling some fellow ladies about my scheme, only to be surprised at their reaction “I could NEVER do that!! Wow that’s so amazing!! I wouldn’t even know where to start!” Even though the trip didn’t pan out exactly as I had envisioned, never once in planning did I doubt my abilities. That might have been naive, but I had done my research and new both my sister and I would have been able to hack it.

It makes me sad when I hear stuff like this from other women because most of them would be able to do it, but fear and doubt hinders them in even believing it’s a possibility. I’m not saying everyone has to like hiking and surviving in the woods, because I know that’s not everyone’s idea of fun. I just think a lot of women are busy trying to fit into one of the many specific roles society has created for us, whatever that might be. The truth is, you can live outside, in between, and a mixture of these “expectations.” When you take a risk and do something you never thought you’d be capable of, you increase your confidence. As you gain confidence, you inspire others, but specifically other women, to do the same. Expect the unexpected!!

As I was finishing pulling out the tree stump, I felt really proud of myself. I felt strong. I felt capable. I felt independent. This is something our society tries to hide from us and convince us isn’t true about ourselves. Of course this didn’t just come from pulling out the tree, but also reflecting on all the work and effort I had put in to make myself stronger over the last couple years. I see a lot of women leaving the “strong” characteristic up to men to do it for them. This couldn’t be more tragic. Women are strong, and together we are even stronger.

“A strong woman is one who feels deeply and loves fiercely. Her tears flow as abundantly as her laughter. A strong woman is both soft and powerful, she is both practical and spiritual. A strong woman in her essence is a gift to the world.”

Native American Saying

Ladies, it’s time we stop the nitpicking, gossiping, backstabbing, being so dependent on men, and embrace the beautiful gift of femininity we’ve been given. Femininity is defined in the English Dictionary as “qualities or attributes regarded as characteristic of women.” Let’s work together to show the world what women are capable of.

She is clothed with strength and dignity,
    and she laughs without fear of the future.

Proverbs 31:25

Life is More

I was walking through campus last week, glancing at the people gathered in their front yards blaring music and crowding around tables cluttered with red solo cups. It was about 8pm on a warm spring night. “What a typical campus scene,” I thought to myself, “I wonder what life is like being a part of that crowd–going out on the weekends, hosting rambunctious parties, tailgating before football games, having a bunch of friends, always up for a party…” In the midst of trying to envision myself in that lifestyle, a piece of a conversation I had had with someone earlier that day interrupted: LIFE IS MORE. Everything on my bucket list flashed before my eyes.

This lifestyle works for people, and that’s great. But for me, it would just never be enough. I refuse to believe that’s all I’m here for. Maybe I’m too picky, maybe I’m missing something–this is clearly a popular pastime, I thought to myself. I mean, I enjoy a good party every once in a while, but I couldn’t do this every weekend…maybe I am crazy?? Well, that one is obvious…haha! I was reminded that I don’t just want to fill my life with place holders–be that people or activities. I want to live with intention. I want to experience life, not numb it. Parties are great, and having fun is a big part of life, but it’s also messy and uncomfortable.

Life is more than desensitizing yourself. It’s more than getting drunk or high and not remembering the night before. It’s so much more than “hooking up” or worrying about finding your “other half.” Because truth is, you’re not a half, you are a whole, and life is yours to get the most out of it. Life is the small things, like smelling the trees blooming in spring, but it’s also that adrenaline rush you get from jumping out of a plane with a parachute strapped to your back. Life is balling your eyes out over a broken heart, but also laughing your ass off with your best friends. Life is joy and life is pain. It’s up to you what you do about it, how you transcend the cards you’ve been dealt, using the lessons to better yourself, finding your reason.

My eyes are open,
My heart is beating,
My lungs are full,
And my body’s breathing.
I’m moving forward.
I found my freedom.
I found the life that gave me reason to live.

Colony House, “Moving Forward”

Life continues to amaze me, throwing curve balls I never would have expected. Some have been painful, other’s excitingly awesome. There’s new opportunities every day. We’re only here for such a short time, but can learn and grow so much.

Remember,
you are still here.
The human heart beats
approximately 4,000 times per hour
and each pulse,
each throb,
each palpitation is a trophy,
engraved with the words
“You are still alive.”
You are still alive.
So act like it.”

Rudy Francisco

“Knock it off with them negative waves”

This past weekend was a doozy. On Friday at 1pm I went to get a simple oil change. Four hours later, the associate came out bearing news that my car needed $2,000 worth of replacements to be considered safe to drive. I didn’t have time to fix it, so before I left I had to sign something saying if my car broke down on the way home, it wasn’t their fault. I wound up missing my friend’s dance recital which was at 5, so I went over to my parents house instead, where I dropped my phone in the toilet.

Saturday, rolled around even though I had been dreading it all week. I was scheduled to work 2 jobs, 13 hours total. With no car and no phone, it didn’t make the reality any easier to swallow. I was about half way through the second shift and at this point I’m just done with the past 48 hours. Now, this shift was a catering event for 250 people, so food was everywhere. When it was finally time for us staff eat, someone had set the veggie tray with a huge bowl of ranch on top of a very unstable stack of boxes. I happened to scooch my chair closer to the table, simultaneously nudging the stack of boxes and sending the veggies and bowl of ranch flying and then making a landing right on top of the event coordinator’s purse. What once was a bright cheery green bag, was now a ranch-dressing covered bag. I quickly tried to clean up the veggies that were now all over the floor, and grab the event coordinator rags to wipe off her purse. She was pissed to say the least.

If my face wasn’t red enough all ready, it could have caught fire at this point. My face is naturally already a little red, although I would prefer to say my cheeks are just a little rosy. Depending on the situation, it can quickly turn varying shades of red and can even become blotchy from embarrassment, stress, anger, happiness, laughter, and pretty much anything. There’s nothing I can do about it, but everyone seems to think there is. If I had a dollar for every time one of my coworkers mentioned how red my face was or asked if I was okay because my face was “SOO RED,” I would have left there $50 richer.

As you can imagine, I was feeling pretty shitty at this point, and then suddenly everything was shitty: the job, the people, how I’ve stuck been in food service for 8 years, the fact I didn’t have my car, how I should be graduating this semester, what am I even doing with my life??? etc. However, in the middle of it all, I was reminded of a cheesy quote I had seen on Pinterest earlier that day: “Don’t let a bad day make you feel like you have a bad life.”

I love a good challenge, so I thought to myself, Haley, let’s fill our mind with everything we’re grateful for so we’re not wallowing in self-pity (and yes, I use first person plural pronouns when I talk to myself). I was thankful my mom let me borrow her car so that I didn’t have to pay for an Uber, that the weather was beautiful, that the ice machine door didn’t fall on my head, that my car made it home from the shop safely, that I might be going to Colorado for the summer, that I even have the opportunity to work multiple jobs, that I got off 30 min early from work, etc. Before I knew it, my day wasn’t really that bad.

Now, this is not always easy, and certainly doesn’t come natural for me, but if you’re up for the challenge, I’d definitely recommend giving it a try. Not only does this help put things into perspective, but also switches your mindset from negative thinking to positive thinking. Of course, other things went wrong that weekend and my natural instinct was to complain and worry, often aloud. In one such conservation with my dad, he cut me off mid sentence to quote a scene from the 60s movie, The Dirty Dozen, which I will now always remember: “Why don’t you knock it off with them negative waves? Why don’t you dig how beautiful it is out here? Why don’t you say something righteous and hopeful for a change?”

Authenticity

One day I was skimming through the rack of shirts at the local thrift shop when suddenly I felt a hand grab my ankle. I screamed and looked down to see a pair a circle glasses perched right above a smile which quickly erupted into hysterical laughter. “OH MY GOSH, MITCHELL!!” I yelled, as he climbed out from under the hanging clothes, chuckling and beaming with pride from successfully scaring me. “That wasn’t funny!!!” I said, as he ran off yelling “WEEEEEEEEEE!!” arms flailing behind him in classic superman style.

Let me introduce Mitchell: best friend, adventure enthusiast, and inspiration. We grew up next door to each other and for years I noticed he was “different.” He was diagnosed with autism in 6th grade but I never really understood what autism was or why he acted the way he did. Our friendship didn’t form until about 8 years ago, but today I call him my brother. We’ve shared many adventures together from scooter-ing down a parking garage downtown to walking around the city with him painted gold for his golden birthday. Our interactions are a string of inside jokes, cracking each other up, trying to scare one another, giving each other crap, but most importantly trying to figure out our next adventure.

Mitchell continues to inspire me with how authentically enthusiastic he is about life: everything is exciting, everywhere is an adventure, and everyone is worth meeting. A lot of people miss out on the small beautiful details of life, so to be friends with someone who completely embraces them is life changing. While I’m not Mitchell and will never be able to completely see the world as he does, I have learned a lot about authenticity from him who embodies it to it’s fullest potential.

It’s so easy to subtly merge into adulthood building up walls around ourselves, desensitized to the thrill of life surrounding us, becoming increasingly overwhelmed by the stresses and anxieties of society. In my own journey, I’ve found that embracing the whole of who you are and acknowledging that you’re authentic-self will be different from everyone else’s, is the first step. Of all the authentic people I’ve been blessed to meet, this seems to be a crucial aspect of living authentically; accepting your flaws but being proud of where you excel, loving how God created you even if there were things you wish you could change, and not being afraid to say to the world: THIS IS WHO I AM AND IT IS GREATTASTIC!

This of course doesn’t happen overnight and I am currently in this stage myself so I’ll keep you posted…

In the meantime, check out Mitchell’s blog

Perspective

About this time last year, I was nervously dodging through the busy sidewalks of campus, guarding my right arm which was in a cast from my shoulder to my wrist. The falling snow seemed to mock me for how I got in this predicament in the first place: sledding. Yes, it’s possible to shatter your elbow sledding. This certainty wasn’t my brightest moment, but the provoking pep talk from one sister in particular, convinced me it was a great idea to go full speed down the hill in order to “reach the full potential.” I grabbed the sled, and with a running start, I flew down the hill. At the bottom of the hill was a half pipe (seen in the cover image), which provided the coveted rush of getting airborne. This last run down the slopes was the fastest I had ever gone. I plunged down into the half pipe and shot up on the other side–I thought I was flying! Until…I came crashing down, landing on the sparse 1 inch cushion of snow covering the ground, right on my elbow. I laid there for a couple minutes, unable to move from the excruciating pain. I tried to beckon my sister, however, they couldn’t hear me over their laughter and the fun they were having. Finally, everyone came over and thought I was joking. Once they realized I wasn’t, they attempted to carry me up the hill, back to the car. Fast forward and I finally made it home, then to the hospital, and then a week later my arm had a 5 inch incision all stitched up with a metal plate and 5 screws inside.

A year later, I am happy to report that earlier today went to a yoga inversions and arm balance workshop. Now, if you’re not familiar with this concept, its basically in the title: doing various challenging poses balancing on only your hands or elbows. Before the class began, the instructor gave a brief introduction and suggested the intention for the workshop be no matter how many times you fell, to let go of all judgement, be patient with yourself, and try again. Of course I fell multiple times, and a couple elbow stands in, my right elbow was hurting pretty bad due to the pressure on the plate. However, I thought of how a year ago, I couldn’t even write with this arm, and now I was using it to balance. Sure, I wasn’t doing it perfectly, but I had worked hard and waited months to come this far!

It’s easy to get caught up in the misery and pain of a circumstance. It’s easy to give up on something that requires effort and a lot of hard work. It’s easy to fall into the rut of criticizing yourself and your mistakes, believing the doubt and lies that you aren’t good enough or won’t be able to do it (whether that’s getting your elbow back to almost normal or overcoming an addiction). It’s crazy to think what could happen if you put all of the energy you use doubting and making excuses into believing in yourself and saying “I can do this!” Perspective is everything.

I am trying to adapt this way of thinking into my own life, and it is challenging, especially when you don’t feel motivated and it seems like everything is going wrong. I mess up quite frequently, but just like falling in arm balancing or sledding, you have to get back up. You have to allow yourself the freedom to make mistakes and have patience, let go of judgement, accept that you will fall, but also accept that you will get back up. You’ll get back up because you are worth it. You’ll get back up because you’re stronger than you believe. You’ll get back up because you are courageous. As Mary Anne Radmacher says so eloquently, “Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I’ll try again tomorrow.”

We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;  persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed

2 Corinthians 4:8-9

 For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

2 Timothy 1:7

Happy Belated Valentines

I went to the grocery store around 6pm last Thursday and was surprised to see all these men running around frantically with bouquets, intensely scouring the card aisle. I totally forgot it was Valentine’s day. I haven’t been in a relationship for just around 2 years now, but it got me thinking about how much pressure surrounds relationships; whether you’re trying to attain #goals if you’re in a relationship, or dealing with the stress and doubt that so often accompanies wanting to be in one. As a society, we put a lot of pressure on finding “the one,” as if you’re not complete being “alone.”

I used to struggle a lot with wanting to revive and fix one relationship in particular that crashed and burned, tearing my heart into twelfths. I’ll spare you the details, however, throughout about a years worth of thinking, crying, whining, self-pity, replaying, scheming revenge, and reflecting, I came to many realizations. The first of these is rather obvious, but after getting over everything that went wrong I was able to realize why I missed the person so much. These were all good qualities of course, such as patience, kindness, belief in me, and understanding. In the unstable state of post-breakup, I thought these qualities were confined to this person alone and that I would never find anyone else comparable. Then I had a bigger realization and the most impactful awareness that I was depending solely on that person for the very qualities I should be showing myself.

I know the whole “love yourself/self-love” concept is big right now and somewhat cliche, but it definitely holds some truth. I started to question what my life would look like if I showed myself that patience, if I showed myself that kindness, if I showed myself that understanding, if I believed in myself, if I was confident in my abilities, you name it. Don’t get me wrong, these are definitely qualities I will continue to expect from a partner, but there’s a difference between appreciation of the qualities, and dependence on them. As my brain was processing this phenomenal concept, it was like someone whispered in my ear a clear concise summary: Love yourself so you’re not depending on someone else to do it for you. Love yourself so you know you’re choosing to be with someone out of love rather than loneliness. I’m sure this is a combination of many quotes and books I’ve read so I certainly can’t take credit, but I thought it was outstanding advice.

If we cannot face and accept ourselves, we will always be trying to fill that void with someone else. It’s only after this acceptance that growth with another can begin.

“Accept and acknowledge your own brilliance. Stop waiting for others to tell you how great you are! Believe it for yourself and about yourself.”

Iyanla Vanzant

Connection

Living “unconnected” in Western society is considered pretty rare. But actually, after looking a little deeper, it’s quite a common phenomenon. If we’re being completely honest, it’s not the fast WiFi, social media platforms, or ability to share things instantaneously that connects us; but rather, our raw humanity is what truly connects us–even to the stranger riding next to us on the bus.

We live in an age of “connection,” yet we seem to have lost connection to the very core of our being–our humanity. How have we gotten so caught up and distracted by superficial connection that we have lost the very essence of our being? I feel like we have celebrated abandoning, shaming, and even trying to obliterate the very “imperfections” that make us unique, that make us real, that make us human. Lines are blurred. We will pass the homeless woman on the street, not even acknowledging her existence, yet she has more in common with us than the dog we ran across the street to pet. We seem to willingly sacrifice our tender humanity for this unrealistic idea of perfection that we have created, meanwhile life is flying by, opportunity after opportunity to experience veracious connection, sometimes roaring in our face sometimes whispering in our ear. When we numb this daily, we possess an empty, unfulfilled, surface-level but Instagram-worthy amount of time that we call our life.

That’s a little depressing, and of course this is a generalization. But I think it boils down to fear. This fear is initiated by doubt. Doubt in ourselves and doubt in others. We are afraid of facing our weaknesses and vulnerability, let alone allowing others a glimpse. We are afraid to acknowledge our humanity and how strikingly potent unfiltered connection is. We are afraid to acknowledge the power it has.

“As we learn about others, we learn about ourselves; as we learn about ourselves, we learn anew about others; and when we are open to what we learn about others and ourselves, we change”

Elizabeth Campbell

Being alive

I’ve never been one to like school, in fact I absolutely dread it. Which is funny because I’ve picked a 4 year degree and switched my major so much I have to go an extra semester. This semester is rough because I have classes every. single. day. I was sitting in one of these classes last week and my mind was all over the place. It didn’t help that the professor was super dry and rambling off on some tangent about some unrelated topic he happened to get on. While sitting in his class I kept asking myself What am I doing here?? Why does this even matter??as the frustration inside of me was festering. Inspirational people would say this is the time to remind yourself of your “whys,” or reasons. The thing is, I don’t really have any reasons for going to college besides acquiring a lot of debt and a degree which will hopefully get me a decent job, but the debt is the only guarantee.

I’m still sitting in his class, having somewhat of an existential crisis, as I realize my life has morphed into a passive state of numbness as I awkwardly stumble through each day. Slightly freaking out, I began trying to think of when the last time was where I actually felt alive, trying to come up with a memory so I could remember how it feels. To my relief, the more I thought about it, the more memories came: driving on a warm sunny day with the windows down, music turned up, sunglasses on, laughing with the person in the passenger seat; throwing my hands up in the air on the back of a jet ski going 70mph; skinny dipping in freezing water in the middle of the night laughing our heads off; running ahead of my hiking group in the Adirondacks trying to find shelter from the progressing storm already upon us; sitting on top of a train signal in the middle of the night feeling the structure shake as the roaring train screams by underneath; jumping out of an airplane at 1,300 ft; literally anything but sitting in that class.

I reminisced my way through these memories, coming to the conclusion that what they all have in common is the ability to shock me into recognition that I am alive. Now this might sound like an adrenaline addiction, and maybe it is. The experiences will be different for everyone, but the feeling is the same. I understand that the mundane is unavoidable to some extent, but what happens when it consumes the majority of your life? Are you actually living? Maybe these moments are meant to be few and far between, but I can’t settle for that. I believe there’s a big difference between being alive and being aware you’re alive and actually living.

I’m not going to do anything drastic like drop out of college (although it is very tempting). However this gave me a lot of perspective and refocused my mind from spiraling into the stress ball of temporary (and sometimes meaningless) worries. It’s easy to get caught up in the stress of homework, projects, making money, etc, all the while forgetting the life we have been given is meant to be lived. I think it’s a great reminder make an effort to not get so caught up in the mundane that we forget to ask ourselves, what makes me feel alive? And then takes steps in that direction.

Beautiful you

Let’s get one thing clear:

YOU. ARE. BEAUTIFUL.

RIGHT NOW.

JUST HOW YOU ARE.

By beautiful I don’t just mean the typical dictionary definition of “pleasing the aesthetic senses, especially sight.” I’m talking real beauty: the beauty of of everything you bring to this life by simply being in it. The beauty of your remarkable, distinctive, electrifying existence in this universe.

I understand you might have a hard time believing this, well you’re in good company. So maybe you don’t believe me, or maybe you’ve never even been told this. But this needs to change.

In our culture today, beauty is a BIG thing. It’s all over the place, either blatantly screaming in your face through social media, or subtly whispering criticisms and doubts in your mind. The standards, practices, steps, products, maintenance, etc. of achieving some type of abstract arbitrary concept of beauty is everywhere we go here in Western society. This is a topic I feel that has been brought up a little more recently, specifically about its dangers of being impossibly unobtainable. That’s right: impossibly unobtainable. But let’s be clear: beauty itself is not unobtainable, in fact you already have it. What’s unobtainable is the “ideal beauty” in edited photos on Instagram or in magazines, in movies and advertisements. So then why do we spend so much money and time trying to somehow earn the title of “beautiful”? Well, because we are convinced all these things will help us do so, I mean they promise they will after all.

In thinking of all the money and time I’ve personally spent on products and routines, I can’t help but wonder if I had spent it working on accepting and loving myself instead how things would look differently. I’m convinced the contrast would be stark, since this “beauty” cycle is a never-ending rabbit hole for something that is quite frankly temporary. You start picking apart one thing about yourself, next thing you know it’s 5, then it’s just pure insecurity of total self. However, this cycle can work both ways and can be turned around to see yourself ever increasingly positively. Beauty is not defined by physical appearance. The quandary shouldn’t be do I look okay? Does this make me look prettier? Will this make me more attractive? And so on…fill in the blank. But rather, I wonder what would happen if instead the questions were: will I choose to see the beauty in myself? Will I embrace the beautiful physical characteristics I have been given but also see the unequaled loveliness underneath? Will I let my physical appearance and what other’s say about it make me think less of myself and determine my confidence?

It will be a daring journey with wins and lessons, but we do have a choice.