Tag: intuition

Fight or Flow

carissaricci

How much energy and how many hours have been spent trying to keep things in my life that I thought were important? Jobs. Situations. People. The list is long, and the answer is…too many to count.

I’m guessing many of you have heard of Mel Robbin’s “Let Them Theory”1 by now, but for those that haven’t, here’s the summary. We often want to control what is around us in an effort to keep things in our lives that we feel are important. But if we release our expectations and just let people do whatever it is they’re going to do, that gives us a clearer picture of the reality of what we’re dealing with and agency to create boundaries and make decisions based on that information. Once someone shows us who they really are and where their priorities lie, we can then make choices that are healthy for us. Just, let them. And then you can make the move that’s right for you.

While it can be hard to let go of (or reorient) our expectations, most of that difficulty lies in letting go of the perception, not necessarily the reality.

I’ve made some starts down this road, but this year is about getting even more clarity for myself about what stays in my life and what I need to let fall away. It’s like a revised version of Marie Kondo-ing my stuff, but with the non-material things in my life. Looking at every situation and connection and deciding where I want to intentionally put my energy and those where I need to reduce or remove my energy. While it can be hard to let go of (or reorient) our expectations, most of that difficulty lies in letting go of the perception, not necessarily the reality. So often, we project our ideas of what that person or situation could be as opposed to looking at who or what they are right now and then having the courage to acknowledge it and make a plan in the best interest of our own health and well-being.

Have you ever left a conversation with a friend and felt completely wiped out? Is it something that happens every time you’re with them (or more often than not)? Is there reciprocation? Overall, do you feel like you get as much as you give?

I had a friend who consistently spent the majority of our time together talking about what was going on in her life and was leaving me with only about 5% of our time to talk about what was going with me (if we even got around to me at all). After talking with her about it, nothing changed, and the relationship continued on the way it always had. The last time we met up, I was fighting off an anxiety attack on the way out. I realized two things. As an empath, I need to continue working on not internalizing the feelings of others to such a large degree. Secondly, it was time to let that relationship organically become a less important one.

Once I stopped regularly reaching out and didn’t hear from her or see her taking initiative to stay in touch, I realized how lopsided the relationship had been and how much energy I had given to it over the years. I was fighting to keep her in my life because I perceived her as a friend who had the potential to meet me halfway. But that just wasn’t true. And she repeatedly proved it to me, so why did I choose to keep giving her energy that could be better spent elsewhere? To be clear, I’m not faulting her. This comes back to the “Let Them Theory”. I needed to “let her”, and then it was my responsibility to get clarity on how much time and energy I was willing to put there.      

On the flip side, I have people in my life that I could talk to for hours and feel energized at the end of the conversation. There are seasons where one of us will lean in a bit more to support the other when there’s big life stuff happening, but overall, there’s reciprocation. Care. Balance. They’re putting in as much effort to connect with me as I am with them. Their actions match their words. They don’t just say I mean a lot to them—they show me that I mean a lot to them.

So often, we fight for others to see our value. We want them to value us enough to put in the effort. Make us a priority. To see us. I heard this analogy about the cost of water and depending on where you go, the price of the bottle changes. If you’re at a supermarket. A gas station. A theme park. A concert. The water doesn’t change…its inherent value is static, but the price fluctuates drastically depending on the location. It’s the same with our value. So, if we’re not being perceived as valuable, it’s up to us to realize that it’s about where we are or who we’re surrounding ourselves with that needs to change instead of us trying to shape-shift into something that we feel will be valued in that environment or with that person to make it “fit”.2

Be authentically YOU. You will lose some people. Situations will change. You might even realize you need a different job or career. But then watch what happens…

I had a mentor give me a great piece of advice once. Be authentically YOU. You will lose some people. Situations will change. You might even realize you need a different job or career. But then watch what happens…the right people will stick around, you’ll find a job that lights you up more than it drags you down, and you’ll be surrounded by people who are in a place where they can show up in true connection with you in the ways you need most.

Instead of forcing or fighting those “square peg, round hole” situations in my life, I’m working on noticing when I find myself in that space, letting them be exactly what or who they are, and then making (sometimes difficult) decisions about what the best way forward is based on that reality—trusting that those people and situations that see my value will stick around and those that don’t will fall back (or in some cases, completely away). And that’s okay.

If you’re trying to determine where to put your energy, a question I’ve found helpful to ask myself is: “Fight or flow?” Am I consistently in a fight with myself to stay in this job, situation, or connection…or does it flow? It doesn’t have to be in flow 100% of the time, but if I’m in fight more often than flow, that’s a good indication that it’s time for me to take a look at it.                

You might find that once you start to dig in and figure some of this out, some not-so-great feels might come up. I had to work through a lot of guilt, anger, and frustration with myself. Once I started pulling the curtain back on how much of my energy and time I’ve put into situations that weren’t right for me, it was difficult to come to terms with it. But now that I’ve acknowledged that loss, it has taught me an important lesson. I can now make sure that however many years of life I have left are spent in more intentionality and flow.

We have such a limited time in this human experience. You deserve to have a circle of people around you who match your weird with their weird. Who see you, love you, respect you, and value you—exactly as you are. Not if you would only “do this” or “be that”.3 That is the baseline of what you deserve, and this is your permission slip to not ever settle for less. I hope you use it.

1This is the Mel Robbins podcast that outlines more details about what it means to “let them”.

2This doesn’t mean that you don’t give people a chance to show you a different side of themselves…but be clear and intentional about what that looks like and where your boundaries are.

3The intention isn’t that you don’t grow and develop, but just because you’re a human that’s “in progress” shouldn’t preclude you from being loved and accepted as you are right now (both by yourself and others).

Beginning Again

carissaricci

When I was a kid, I used to think that life was a long line of events, one leading to another. A neat and tidy row of experiences that would build on each other until I was a wise adult, and that as I got older, I would “figure it out”. I had no idea how involved the “figuring it out” phase would be or that it’s really just an illusion and absolutely no one has everything nailed. The “figuring it out” phase should really just be called life and that “phase” lasts the entirety of it.

And beginning again? It’s not just something that happens once.

Some of the hardest and most rewarding lessons have come when I admit that I don’t know what I’m doing. When there don’t seem to be any clear answers. When I feel lost. It’s in the grappling with all the everythings in those moments when my life has pivoted the most toward something that feels more aligned.

I’m at the start of an entirely new way of living. My house sold in September, and my dog and I are officially nomads. I left my full-time job and have launched into a mix of consulting, coaching, and retreat guiding which has been one of the best decisions I could have made. And yet…it still comes with all the symptoms of being in transition. I can think back to so many moments when I hesitated to take the leap or make a change for so many reasons—one of them being me trying to avoid those exact discomforts. As I’m writing this, it’s reminding me of those prescription ads with the long list of side effects: “Side effects of ‘taking the leap’ may include: fear of failure, night sweats, doubting yourself, fear of the unknown, ‘what-if’ syndrome, procrastination, nightmares,” and the list goes on…

When you find yourself “What-if’ing” yourself to death, change the “What if?” to “Even if.”

I’ve realized there’s no easy way to get myself out of a rut. The best way I’ve found is to just jump in and do it. Not when all my ducks are in a row. Not when I feel ready. Not when I feel comfortable. Not when success is assured. When I feel the pull and my intuition pointing me in the right direction, I know it’s time to take the leap and trust. One step at a time…even if it’s a winding road.

One of the best pieces of advice I’ve ever gotten was this. When you find yourself “What-if’ing” yourself to death, change the “What if?” to “Even if.”

Instead of “What if I get lost on my way from the train station to the hotel?” it becomes “Even if I get lost on my way from the train station to the hotel…”

It has helped retrain me and reinforce that I’m a capable human, and if I find myself in an unexpected or stressful situation, I will find my way through. I will figure it out. I will ask for help when I need it. But I won’t let the What If’s keep me from taking chances.

If you’re also in the middle of a major transition, this quote might be helpful to remember:

Beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it is the middle that counts the most. You need to remember that when you find yourself at the beginning. Just give hope a chance to float up.*

The beginning of this last start for me was scary for sure (and saying goodbye to the things I needed to let go of was difficult at times), but I’m so glad I took the chance—it has absolutely changed my life by leaps and bounds for the better. I’ve found a really good rhythm in this new way of living, have an incredible community of humans in my circle who I’m incredibly grateful for every day, and the “Sunday scaries” are no longer a pervasive part of my life.

If you’re beginning again like I am, take heart. EVEN IF things don’t go exactly the way you planned. EVEN IF some of your fears come true. EVEN IF it seems like you’ve lost your way. You will figure it out. Trust yourself. Lean on your community. Keep taking those steps forward. And leave room for a little hope to float up when you find yourself questioning whether you’re on the right track.

EVEN IF the last step you took didn’t result in what you thought it would, that doesn’t mean it was the wrong one. Keep going. Keep learning from each step you take. Bolster yourself with things that light you up.

And know that I’m right there with you.

*Borrowed from a 90’s rom-com…extra points if you can name the title.

Living in the Abstract

carissaricci

Think I’m in the right place. Realize it doesn’t fit anymore. Deconstruct. Take stock of what’s left. Process the feels. Redefine myself and my life. Repeat.

Every time I run through the cycle, I always feel resistance at the beginning. There’s a step between “think I’m in the right place” and “realize it doesn’t fit anymore” that I call: “try to pretend that I’m in the right place even though I know I’m not so I don’t have to face what comes with having to make yet another transition.” I can remember sitting on the threshold of some big decisions, asking if there was an easier way. If I could shortcut it. Work around it. Pretend that I could unsee what had been made so undeniably clear to me. But I also knew that I could no longer continue to betray myself.

Those realizations were the toughest I had ever faced because it meant that I had to consider things I didn’t feel ready to acknowledge. I was afraid that if I started to dismantle what I thought my life would be, that I’d never be able to put it back together again. That I didn’t know how to let go of the version of myself that I had created to survive and the picture I had held in my head of what my life would look like. She was all I had ever known, and my current life was the culmination of years of sacrifices and hard work.

While I’ve experienced big shifts in all areas of my life, some of the more recent shifts have been in my career—over the course of which, I bounced back and forth between the academic and the corporate worlds. But the moment I felt like I had finally “made it” was when I got the call from Nike. All those years of struggle and grind and burning the candle at both ends had landed me in a spot that I couldn’t quite believe. During my first few weeks, I was convinced that I would spend the remainder of my working days there. Why would I ever give that up? I was all in.

I didn’t know how to let go of the version of myself that I had created to survive and the picture I had held in my head of what my life would look like.

Fast forward nine years (quite a few of those last ones battling between what I knew in my heart and trying to hang on to the dream of retiring from Nike someday)…I had allowed myself to become completely burned out and it was all I could do to keep going. Even after setting some boundaries to get my life into better balance, I didn’t know how much longer I could keep it up. And I also knew deep, deep down that I couldn’t stay while also living the life I knew was right for me—I couldn’t find alignment with myself there.

Was I really going to close the door on it? And face a blank canvas?

When I was in one of my painting classes in college, I can clearly remember the first time we were given an assignment to paint something abstract. I panicked. Well, maybe panic is a bit strong, but I wasn’t exactly excited about it. I liked order. And planning. And things to be in neat boxes. A still-life? On it. A landscape? You bet. Abstract painting? I felt completely out of my depth.

In that class, the professor made us build our own wooden stretcher frames and stretch our own canvases, and I’m not lying when I say I may have procrastinated that process a little. Okay, I procrastinated a lot. The miter cuts weren’t quite lining up right (translation…they would have worked fine, but weren’t perfect, so I started over). I re-stretched the canvas when I saw a little pucker in one corner (translation…it was on the backside of the frame where no one would have seen it anyway, but it needed to be fixed). You get the idea. I was doing anything and everything to avoid actually starting the painting.

To paint without anything to reference? To paint from the heart? To trust that something that looked like nothing concrete might still be beautiful? That process stretched me as much as I was stretching that canvas over the frame.

I spent DAYS painting, re-priming the canvas with gesso, and repainting. When I shared my struggles with my professor, she smiled and said, “Carissa. Let go of what you think it should be. Stop making rules for yourself where there don’t need to be. Relax and let go.”

I applied some gesso to get the canvas back to neutral, left the studio, and came back a couple of days later with her mantra ringing in my ears. I reluctantly pulled on my painting clothes, gathered all my supplies, prepared my palette, sat in front of the easel, popped my ear buds in to listen to some of my favorite tunes, took a deep breath, and let myself stare at the blank canvas for what felt like an hour (translation…probably more like 10 minutes). I looked down at all the blobs of paint I had put out on my palette, grabbed a brush, and felt that familiar sinking feeling of “Where do I start?” Out of nowhere, I heard an inner voice say “Just START.”

So, I did. I let go, and I just started slapping paint on the canvas. Colors I loved and shapes that felt fun. I stopped trying to make it look like anything. I stopped trying to make something someone else might find pleasing to look at, and instead, created something I found beautiful—regardless of what anyone else might think. It was one of the most freeing moments…giving myself permission to create something for the sheer joy of it. Not knowing what it was going to look like. Not having an end goal. Letting each stroke unfold as it was happening and being fully present in the process.

Those feelings I felt then are incredibly similar to what I’ve felt in some of the bigger life choices I’ve made in recent years. I have swiped coats of gesso on parts (or sometimes all) of previous versions of myself and visions for my life, stared at the pieces of blank canvas, let myself have a moment of panic, cranked the tunes to process the feels and fuel inspiration, and then started slapping the paint on…my heart leading the way.

Let go of what you think it should be.
Stop making rules for yourself where there don’t need to be.

If you feel overwhelmed by that prospect, you’re not alone, and it can be helpful to remember that even though we’re staring at a blank canvas, it doesn’t mean we’re starting from a blank canvas. We may not be able to see the layers underneath, but they’re there. Influencing our future direction. Reminding us of lessons learned. Encouraging us on. We have experiences and wisdom that have been gathered over the years that will absolutely help propel us forward and provide inspiration. While it can feel daunting to stare at a blank slate, we can dig deep into who we are and what we know to help us create the next version of how we bring ourselves to the world and what our lives will become.

When I faced the decision to either stay at Nike or jump ship for something new, I landed at SVB1, and right before I pulled the trigger I remember thinking, “Am I actually going to do this?” My heart said, “You bet you are.” So I did. And then at the end of this last year, I made the BIG decision. The decision to go out and do my own thing. Did it feel empowering? Absolutely. Do I still struggle with doubts? For sure. The road feels uncertain at times, and I wonder if the world wants what I have to offer—if I can make a living doing what lights me up. But it was time. I had to put a coat of primer on and dig into the beginnings of yet another abstract creation.2

If you’re also working through a phase of your life where you’re making the decision to stop painting landscapes and try an abstract, I’ll give you the exact same advice my college professor did: “Let go of what you think it should be.”

What is your heart saying?

And as you work through the growing pains that inevitably come with embracing a new way of living, I’ll leave you with these wise words from Zanna Keithley:

You are going to have beautiful days and devastating days and light days and heavy days, and there will be chapters when the heavy and devastating feel like they’re all you’ve ever known. And you’re going to break down and break open and feel like the pain has buried itself in your lungs and in your cells and in your soul until you don’t know you from it or it from you, like it’s melded into your bones and intertwined with the intangible part of you that nobody else can see. And you will run and run and want to keep running until your shadows can no longer chase you and you can no longer breathe and this pain doesn’t feel so unbearable. And you will keep sitting with the pain and sitting with the pain and sitting with the pain, and some days it’ll feel a little lighter, and other days, it’ll feel like the entire ocean is crushing your chest and everything is heavy and is this the way it’ll always be? But in time, slowly, the weight will lift and the wounds will start to heal and that first unencumbered breath will be the best thing you’ve ever known. And you’ll begin to let go of this burden you’ve been carrying and remember what it’s like to be you again, and you’ll uncover that inner spark within you that’s been there all along. And you’ll turn your pain into your purpose and use it to try and help other people feel a little lighter and a little less alone and a little more seen. And the pages will keep turning and a new chapter will begin, and this time, you’re going to walk forward a little less afraid. And you’re going to live every inch of this beautiful and messy and wondrous human experience.

Because this—this is what you’re here for.

1 Some of you may have heard of it. It was a bank that imploded in spectacular fashion in under 48 hours. My former colleagues and I are eagerly awaiting the Netflix special that will undoubtedly be made depicting its epic demise.

2 Stay tuned…more to come soon on my newest creation.

Toward

carissaricci

How many of us have a string of unfulfilled New Year’s resolutions in our pasts? I’m hoping it’s not just me…that would be embarrassing. If you can relate, take comfort in the fact that you’re not alone. I rarely persisted the whole year with any resolution I set. I would always draft them with the best of intentions, but they never truly got to the heart of what my soul was longing for. Because they weren’t tied to what mattered most to me, I could never consistently check those boxes.

With the beginning of each new year, I now choose a word of intention instead. Something I can keep coming back to. Something that will ground me when I feel lost or need encouragement. Last year’s word was “trust” and I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that I leaned into that one hard most of those 365 days. It stretched me and pushed me in ways I wasn’t expecting—and provided me with some of the most incredible experiences I’ve ever had.

View from Piestewa Peak Summit

After sitting with my reflection on the 365 days behind me, I turned my attention to the 365 days ahead of me and experimented with some words to see how they fit. I wanted something that indicated movement and action-taking. Forward? No. Onward? Still not quite right…but I couldn’t put my finger on why. I found a quiet space and let myself settle into how I want to feel in 2024. And that’s when the word dropped in. Toward. It implies not just a forward motion, but a forward motion with a specific intention.

So, what am I moving toward?

  • A career that feels more fully me. Where I can do work that is directly tied to where my soul is calling me to be.
  • Connections with people that are genuine—with vulnerability, depth, heart, and light.
  • Moments when I am fully present and that bring me a sense of wonder and joy.
  • Adventures in new places where I can explore to my heart’s content. Meet new people. Try new food. And experience a part of the world I’ve never been before.

It’s all well and good to make statements and express desires, but if there’s no driving force behind it, they often fall into the same wastebasket as crumpled up New Year’s resolutions that were never realized. There needs to be some fuel behind them. They need to be connected to something real inside you, and sometimes, you need your community or other sources of inspiration to keep you going.

Here are some quotes I’ve seen lately that have helped me stay grounded:

The longer you resist the calling of your soul, the harder it is to find your way back. Intuition isn’t instilled in us for nothing. It’s the movement inside us that we must listen to if we want the void to vanish.

Nikki Rowe

I can corroborate this one. For so long, I lived in the ways I thought I “should”. It took me a long time to find my way back and to trust my own intuition again.

Your soul calling will never leave you alone until you honor it and follow it.

Rhys Thomas

For me, this looked like little internal whispers…followed by little nudges…followed by bigger pushes. I’ve been working hard to get better at hearing the whispers and honoring them the first time I hear them. I don’t want to wait until the “push” stage again. I liken that stage to what a baby bird must feel like being thrown out of the nest by their mother…not the best sensation. Just sayin’.

Pay close attention to the reason you get up in the morning. The daydreams you lose yourself in, the books that ignite your imagination, and the songs that make your atoms want to dance. Pay close attention to the people that energize you, the conversations that spark curiosity, and the jokes that make you laugh—these are the clues to your happiness.

Taj Arora

When you get so wrapped up in something that you lose track of time…maybe unintentionally skip a meal. If you hear yourself saying, “I would do this even if I wasn’t paid for it,” that’s a good indication that you’re on the right path.

I’ve also heard the term “energy vampire” recently which made me laugh at first, but then realized how much sense it made. Pay attention to how you feel after spending time with someone. Are you energized or drained? If it’s the latter, that’s a great opportunity to reevaluate how much of your energy you’re willing to put there.

Our happiness is something we cultivate, and we can do it with intentionality—exploring what is true for each of us.

To honor all of this, I must embrace a persistent willingness to say “yes”. To things I think aren’t possible. To things I’m not sure will work out. To things that feel BIG…and maybe a little uncomfortable. If I feel alignment in my soul, then “yes” has to be the answer. Even if I’m not sure how I’m going to get there or what it will look like.

For those of you that are setting your own intentions for the year ahead, know that I’m rooting for each of you and cheering you on. Even when the road ahead seems uncertain. On the days you want to give up. When there seem to be more questions than answers. You’ve got this.

And if you get stuck, remember to let your soul take the lead. It knows the way.

Making Friends With the Wild Things

carissaricci

Have you ever been in a trust fall before? How about one where the person that was supposed to catch you didn’t? If you’ve ever experienced that literally (I hope you didn’t break anything) or figuratively (which can be worse than the physical fall), it can lead to a bit of hesitancy to trust anything again.

At the beginning of each new year, I set an intention for the year ahead. Despite some unfortunate experiences in my past (I’ll let you guess whether they were literal, figurative, or a combo), I went out on a limb and chose “trust” as my word for 2023. My goal was to trust the natural unfolding of life and—more importantly—that I would be able to handle whatever came my way.

Exploring a New Perspective on the Oregon Coast

As we’re approaching the end of the year, I’ve been reflecting on where these months and that word has taken me. Trust started out as an intention, but quickly morphed into a mantra I found myself repeating frequently (usually preceded by the deepest of breaths and the occasional eye roll).

The company I worked for imploding within 48 hours…not sure if I had a job? Trust.

Caught in a major delay on a train from Bilbao to Barcelona…no idea what was going on or if I was going to make it safely to where I was staying that night? Trust.

A number of major appliances going out on me…wondering what might break next? Trust.

My dog facing a variety of health issues…no clue if she was going to pull through? Trust.

And now? I’m facing so many more unknowns in my life. Trust? Well…I’m giving it my best shot. Sometimes I can lean into it, but most of the time, it’s a daily battle.  

When I think back to other times in my life that I’ve been on this side of unknowns, I remember how I felt…just like I do now. I imagine it feels like what a skydiver would feel right before they jump out of the plane. I know that the hardest part is usually the “in between”. The waiting. The uncertainty. The moment right before we jump.

We like to know where we’re headed and what it will look like. Feel like. This season is asking me to take leaps without knowing. Without certainty. Without answers. It can feel brutal to be in that battle sometimes—and there’s the added “bonus” that we also might encounter a few monsters along the way. We often try to run from our demons, but I’ve been exploring what it looks like to let them co-exist with me—asking them what they have to teach me.

And when I feel like running, I go back to these wise words by T.N. Trivett to help keep me grounded:

Turn into yourself. Face what frightens everyone else. Meet your monsters1 and love them like children. Give them a meadow to breathe safe and wild in. Be a shrewd gatekeeper, as not everyone knows what to do with shadowed creatures. Make peace with them and read their maps. They’re hand-drawn in crayon and the colors will point you home.

Sometimes when I’m in the dark and trying to find my way home, I feel like I’m simultaneously too much and not enough. Like I want to apply the “Goldilocks and the Three Bears” philosophy to my life and try to make myself into something that’s “just right” for the world. But the world needs me the way I am…not the Goldilocks version of it. Nayyirah Waheed talks about how “The fear of not being enough and the fear of being ‘too much’ are exactly the same fear. The fear of being you.” And the process of letting go of that fear is an ongoing one.

My life today looks nothing like what I thought it would (even just five years ago), but I know I’m headed in the right direction. I can feel it. I’m tapped into the depths of my soul in ways I’ve never been before. Has it been a smooth road? Absolutely not. But for every bump along the way, I’ve also had moments of deep connection with others that help shore me up and get me through. For every time I’ve felt unsure of my way forward, I’m sent a reminder (in some form or another) that I’ve got this. And when things feel overwhelming, that’s usually when my dog decides to give me a few extra snuggles…letting me know that comfort can often be found in the smallest of moments.

If you’re in a similar spot—struggling to trust and wondering if you’ve got what it takes—keep putting one foot in front of the other. Even if they feel like teeny tiny baby steps. I know that leaning into trust can be difficult sometimes. The days can feel dark. The path forward might appear uncertain. Remember who you are in those moments. Resist the fear of being utterly and completely yourself. The world needs YOU—just as you are. The full, unedited version.

So, let’s kick that Goldilocks and the Three Bears2 philosophy to the curb—it’s outdated, overrated, and just plain boring. If you’re still feeling some hesitation, know that you don’t have to do it alone. Let’s pull that curtain back together and share our magic with the world. It’s time.

1 When I picture those demons or monsters, I always think of the book Where the Wild Things Are…my monsters are definitely Wild Things.

2 No offense to Robert Southey. I very much enjoyed the story as a child…but as an adult, it doesn’t have quite the same appeal. #justsaying

Where’s the Fire?

carissaricci

When was the last time you asked yourself what sets your heart on fire and genuinely listened for the answer?

Over the course of my life, I have (over)thought my way in and out of too many things to count. This next season is requiring me to get out of my head and drop into my heart—which for an over-thinker like myself, can be a terrifying proposition. Holding onto the cerebral approach feels safer. Familiar. I can make the lists and rate the things. There are tangible ideas to grasp. Something to hang my hat on. 

Dipping into intuition and heart knowledge feels squishier. Less certain. There’s a part of me that wonders how I would justify decisions made from that place. And there’s another part (whose voice is becoming stronger) who wants to know why I care about defending my choices. To whom am I making the case? At the end of the day, the woman staring back at me in the mirror is the one who will ultimately hold me to account. And she’s learning to be more compassionate with herself these days.

So, what does it feel like to live from the heart? For me, it means clearing out the noise and paying attention to what makes me feel most alive. Noticing when it happens and making a “note to self”: Do this more.

When I was in college, I decided that I wanted to teach, write, make as big of an impact as I could on the humans I connected with, and see the world. That was the goal. As with many of us, my life took a major detour shortly after, and I allowed what I thought I “should” do to become the loudest voice in the room. The dream was shelved. I moved on and made peace with what my life had become (or so I thought). Now, many, many, years later, I’m finding my way back to what I’m realizing I always knew would light me up. It will look a little different than how I originally imagined it, but the heart and soul of it remain strong and true.

Go inside and listen to your body, because your body will never lie to you. Your mind will play tricks, but the way you feel in your heart, in your guts, is the truth.

Don Miguel Ruiz

On my spring travels abroad, I recognized the fire immediately. When I first landed in Portugal, I dropped my luggage at the place I was staying in Lisbon and headed out to find lunch while I was waiting for the check-in time to roll around. Stunningly intense jet lag aside, I felt the familiar pull and the quiet but strong whisper…“there it is”. That feeling persisted for the remaining 34 days I traveled and didn’t let up until my feet hit the inside of the plane that would take me back home.

Since then, I’ve felt it pop up at various times—I feel it in my body more than anywhere else and I know, without question, that I’m where I need to be when it does. If you’re facing some big questions, “Go inside and listen to your body, because your body will never lie to you. Your mind will play tricks, but the way you feel in your heart, in your guts, is the truth.” (Don Miguel Ruiz) When I look back at my life, I knew long before I made any decisions, what the right one was. I was just incredibly adept at talking myself out of it for the sake of what I thought I had to do.

Feeling the fire at the Plaza de España in Seville

In many of the personality tests I’ve taken over the years, responsibility (or some form of it) is always high up on the list—which isn’t necessarily a bad thing—until I realized that I wasn’t being as responsible to myself as I was to everything and everyone else. 

Your longing. Your heart. Your calling. All of those are just as important to maintain loyalty to as the other things that garner your energy.

I now take notice when these things happen:

  • I’m in what some people call “flow”. I lose track of time. Unintentionally skip meals. And am so focused on what I’m doing that it’s almost like I enter another dimension where everything else is muted.1
  • I feel giddy. A genuine happiness or excitement that emanates from the deepest part of my center. This can show up as a smile that suddenly stretches ear to ear…or sometimes, something different happens. When I stepped foot into La Sagrada Familia and first looked up, I was immediately moved to tears. Inspired, present, and in total awe of what I was experiencing. 
  • I get the “good chills” (Part 1). This usually happens in conversation with someone—when we have a moment of genuine connection about something we’re talking about. But talking isn’t always a requirement. Sometimes, just holding space for one another and silently acknowledging someone else’s experience can be just as powerful. In those moments, we both truly see into the soul of the other. When I think back to the most meaningful moments in my life, being a part of that reciprocity and vulnerability is one of the most beautiful things about being human. 
  • I get the “good chills” (Part 2). Music can reach me like little else can and always has something to teach me. I can’t get enough…never could and probably never will. When I was really young, I learned to play the piano and it changed the way I experienced music and my relationship to it. Even though I loved playing, I was never hankering to perform for crowded rooms. I was happiest when I was at the keys in an empty house. Just me and the music…dancing the dance. In one of my previous posts, I mentioned that I typically always have music going, and it’s true. It helps me feel connected to something bigger while also feeling deeply connected to myself. Whether I’m playing music or listening to it, the “good chills” can strike at any time—both grounding me and taking me to other places simultaneously.

There’s an unbelievable amount that we don’t know and so many things that still remain unexplained, but I believe we can tap into that feeling of interrelatedness…if we’re paying attention.

I’ve often wondered how the things we can’t see—the intangibles—can impact us so deeply. Recently, “scientists have detected a ‘cosmic background’ of ripples in the structure of space and time” and that “every star, every planet, every continent, every building, every person is vibrating along to the slow cosmic beat.” (Frank, 2023)2 We’re all so much more connected than we think. There’s an unbelievable amount that we don’t know and so many things that still remain unexplained, but I believe we can tap into that feeling of interrelatedness…if we’re paying attention.

In those moments when you’ve been places for the first time, but feel a familiarity—almost a knowing—that you’ve somehow been there before. The people you meet who you have an instant connection with—like your soul has known theirs for much longer than you’ve known them. Reading stories that resonate so deeply, you feel like they were written just for you. Listening to music that moves you in the very deepest part of yourself.

As we take steps toward rediscovering and following those dreams that are unique to each of us, those pesky fears may come up. Hesitations. Doubts. But we also each have a fierceness that lives within us. When the world tells us we can’t, let’s allow the hesitations, doubts, and fears to be there—but also let that fierceness push us forward anyway—even if old stories are relentlessly trying to keep us in suspension. 

Choosing to live from the heart is a courageous act. One that requires us to honor our innermost knowing, despite what our minds might be telling us. If you’re wondering whether you have that type of courage, this is your reminder that you do. You are stronger than you think. Braver than you would guess. And worthy of a life well-lived…with your heart on fire.

1 I stayed up 2 hours later than I normally do working on the first draft of this post. I’m finding it amusing that I was in the “flow” while writing about the “flow”. How meta of me.

2 If you want to read the full article, head over to The Atlantic.

Going Solo (Part 3)

carissaricci

“Bad GPS!” I heard the Uber driver yell as he attempted to get me from the train station to the place I was staying for the night. He knew very little English and I knew even less Portuguese. As we continued to wind through the streets in the dark, I checked to see if my GPS would work properly…and it did. Thankfully. I managed to communicate to him to pull over so I could get in the front seat. My phone wouldn’t fit in the device where he had his, so I held it at eye level for him. The entire trip. My arm was shaking by the time we got there. The situation was so funny, that we ended up bursting into laughter a number of times before we finally found the location and he dropped me off. Another moment that still brings a smile to my face.

So often, we want or expect things to go a certain way—but many times, they don’t. These last few weeks have been such good practice for me to roll with the unexpected while learning some lessons along the way.

Lesson 1: Don’t Assume (You Know What They Say About Assuming, Right?)

In my Bilbao hotel, the shower situation seemed wonky. It was in a small corner in the bathroom which was no big deal. But when I went to open the door, it opened in toward the shower and left barely enough space for me to squeeze myself inside before shutting the door. For the first couple of nights, I found myself wondering how anyone who was any bigger than me would fit. There was no way. Did they pole vault themselves in over the top? Most of my shower time those first days were spent pondering that question. 

On the last night, I grabbed the shower door handle to push it forward and then slipped a little and the shower door went the other direction leaving plenty of space for me to walk in. Yep. That’s right. The shower door opened both directions. I spent my last shower in that hotel room laughing at myself. How many times in life have I done things like that? Making an assumption that the first thing I try is the right way to do it instead of trying the opposite tactic (or at the very least, a different one). 

Lesson 2: Get Creative

On a train from Spain to France, I was sitting next to a man who was reading a graphic novel in Japanese, but he also had his phone open. Puzzled, but not wanting to seem stalker-ish, I ventured a quick glance to see what he was doing. On his phone, he had the same book pulled up in what I guessed was a language he felt confident with. He had headphones on–I’m not sure if he was also listening to it or jamming to his favorite tunes, but I thought it was such a cool way to learn a new language. Learn something new by doing something you love. Another lesson in opening the aperture to different possibilities. 

Lesson 3: TRUST

One of the last legs of my trip took me from Paris to Bruges. Another train ride, with this one connecting through Brussels. When I got off the train to catch the next one, I checked my ticket and asked one of the employees on the platform if she could help me find the train I needed since the train number on my ticket didn’t match any of the departing trains listed on the board. She told me it was the next one coming on the same platform, but I hesitated because that one was going to Amsterdam which was not in the direction I needed to travel. 3 more people later, I finally found someone who looked at the code on my ticket and said, “Yeah, this isn’t going to get you there. Your ticket is for an intercity train. That’s not this one. And I don’t know where it’s leaving from. You’ll just have to check the boards.” With only 5 minutes left to catch it, I could feel urgency pumping through my veins as I scanned the boards. Nothing I could see had my destination, but there was another one going to somewhere else in Belgium and left at the same time as it said on my ticket. It was the best bet, so I grabbed my luggage and raced all the way to Platform 16. Out of breath and wondering if I was even in the ballpark of where I needed to be, I could only hope. Looking at the board on the platform, they finally listed the stops and Bruges was one. It was delayed 8 minutes…I would have made it even if I hadn’t sprinted. 

This particular lesson keeps chasing me down, reminding me to let go and trust. To lean on my intuition and know that I will handle what comes my way.

When I walked back through the door of my home, the oddest feeling came over me—like I was a stranger in my own house.

As my current round of travels have come to a close, I find myself already wanting to buy the next plane ticket to somewhere I haven’t explored yet. I opened Pandora’s Box and there’s no way I’m going to be able to shove everything back inside—and I don’t want to. 

When I walked back through the door of my home, the oddest feeling came over me—like I was a stranger in my own house. I have outgrown my former life. It no longer fits. I was snatched completely out of the hamster wheel of my “normal” life for an extended period of time, and now those patterns that felt slightly uncomfortable before? They feel unbearable now. Instead of feeling like that irritating itch on the back of your neck you get from t-shirt tags, it feels like I’m now wearing clothes made entirely of those same tags.

When I was eating dinner in Lisbon one evening, the server who was taking care of me asked me if it was my first trip to Portugal. I replied that it was, but that I have Portuguese heritage. His eyebrows rose in delight, and then he leaned in and put his hand on my shoulder. “Well then,” he said, “welcome home.” I hadn’t planned on giving my dinner a sprinkling of tears that night, but as I’ve learned…when the tears come, I need to let them be. 

As I’m continuing to reflect on my time abroad, the memory of that moment with the waiter in Portugal keeps coming up, and I think I know why. This trip was another huge step in the returning home to myself. Even if my physical house doesn’t feel like home anymore, I’ve realized I’m at home wherever I go—as long as I’m living in a way that is authentically me.

Exploring Lisbon

Thinking about living the life I want, it sometimes feels like a lonely road. I don’t know a lot of people who want the same type of life I do, but I remind myself that no matter how far the physical distance, I will always be connected to the people I love.

When I was traveling, I messaged a good friend with, “No idea how I’m going to go back to normal life after this.” He replied, “But what if this becomes your new normal life?” As soon as I read what he wrote, I smiled the biggest smile. On my way home, another dear friend messaged me with, “May you be gentle with you and go slow. Everything may look the same as when you left – and yet I have a sense you may not be.”

I keep going back to those wise words from both friends as I try to find my way into whatever this next phase looks like for me. They are another reminder that no matter where I go, the bonds of friendship formed over the years will forever be interwoven into my journey. This is what gives me the courage to keep taking steps forward. To all of the friends in my life who are cheering me on—thank you. Your love and support are helping fuel my feet as I continue to seek out what’s next.

To all of us who are continuing to march toward our own true north, I know it’s hard. Some days, excruciating. But we’ve got this. We really do. So, let’s keep going.

The Spark Calls

carissaricci

Looking back, there have been many times when I’ve felt the spark light up. For a good portion of my younger years, I was oblivious to what that felt like when it called. I was heavily shrouded in the plans I had made for my life. With my head under a dark hood, focused only on what I thought I had to do, I plunged forward. Hell-bent on checking off the boxes I thought I should and numb to what my inner self was trying to tell me.

This picture is the first time I can remember feeling and recognizing it. I was on a work trip in Europe. I left my Amsterdam hotel the first morning I was there and went for a walk—not sure what the day would hold and blinded by the exhaustion of the long flight and sleepless night. The sights, the smells, the people, the tapestry of different languages being spoken around me…it was magic. I was completely hooked. Even if I was also so exhausted that it felt like I was simultaneously drunk and hungover (thanks, jet lag), I was completely enamored.

I can’t remember where I heard this quote, but it sticks with me to this day. “I feel most at home when I’m traveling.” That sentiment resonated into my very bones.

I’ve always considered myself to be somewhat of an odd duck. When most of my friends can’t wait to get home after a trip, I’m already jonesing to buy another ticket to somewhere else and hop a flight. I used to think there was something wrong with me. Broken perhaps. But then I started meeting other people who felt similarly and my world opened up. I wasn’t alone. That’s when my practical side started tugging at my pant leg like an impatient toddler. How was I going to be able to support myself in a way that would still allow me to fully explore this part of myself?

So, here I am. Researching and planning for what I can. That’s the easy part. Trust? That’s the hard part. 

As I pondered different potential options, the familiar narratives of, “How in the world are you going to build a future that will allow you to do that?” and “There’s no way that’s possible,” reared their ugly heads. My psyche was doing everything it could to keep me pinned in to the familiar. The comfortable.

This was breaking new ground for me. Anyone who knows me, knows that if I’m passionate about something, I put my full weight behind it and go for it. All out. 100%. So, here I am. Researching and planning for what I can. That’s the easy part. Trust? That’s the hard part. 

This next phase of my life is about learning to trust: myself, my intuition, and that I might have something unique to offer the world. My fear and doubt want desperately to dispute and cast a shadow over all of that, but this isn’t 2008 Carissa or 2017 Carissa—the woman that had shockingly low self-worth and felt most comfortable in the back of the cave hiding under a blanket and white-knuckling it through life. This is 2023 Carissa. She’s a bit of a badass. And unwilling to settle for things that don’t feel right for her anymore. 

Every time I feel those dark corners moving in, I remind myself to keep taking steps forward toward that spark. It has led me out of the darkness before, and I will continue to follow it again and again—until trusting myself becomes as easy as breathing, and I know I’m honoring what’s most true for me.