Stepping Out of the Box

There is no greater threat to innovative thinking than the phrase, “We should do it that way because that’s the way we’ve always done it.” What if we looked at all the ways we’re living and the hidden assumptions we’re making underneath it all? Why is it that we do things the “way we do”?

Take weddings, for example. In the states, there is a prescribed “right way” to do it. From cutting the wedding cake (which always seems to be dry…why is that?) to the different dances (which usually includes watching at least 1 person dance like Elaine)…it all seems so prescribed. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve attended some really beautiful weddings. But the weddings that leave more of a mark on my memory are the unique ones. When the couple steps outside the traditional box and does things their own way, throwing these made-up requirements into the wind–it looks like fun. Maybe we should do that more.

In that spirit, I’m no longer going to accept the phrase, “because that’s just the way it is” so fair warning—if you say this to me, get ready to hear me respond with, “What if we tried something different?” As my dear Ted Lasso1 so eloquently illustrated, what if we were curious instead of judgmental? What if we started questioning (without judgment) why we think and do the things the way we do?



Searching for what is familiar is a way to feel safe and secure, even if it’s only a feeling.
An illusion.


To help, I’ve started using what I’m calling the “impatient toddler method” on myself. When I’m doing something that seems mainstream or when I feel like I’m in a rut, I ask myself why I’m doing it that way. When my mind gives me an answer, I respond back with the typical question a toddler might ask next: “But, why?” I respond to the little tyke again. And then I let the toddler keep pestering me with, “But, why?” If the answer at the end of the the string of questions is “because that’s just how it is”, I enter into reality check mode. Does what I’m doing really align with me or not? If not, I’m experimenting with giving myself permission to let it go and try something that feels more like me. I’m nowhere near perfect at this, and I still get sucked into old habits and ways of thinking for a lot of reasons.

Why I’ve done things “because that’s how they’re done”:

  1. Going with the status quo is comfortable. Fitting in feels far better than the judgment that sometimes comes from others when we do something “different”. Research has shown that social exclusion activates the same parts of the brain as physical pain.2 It makes complete sense why we would subconsciously tend to go with the comfortable instead of throwing the rule book out the window to embrace our own way of doing things. When faced with the choice between potentially falling down a staircase or a guarantee that we wouldn’t take a tumble, I think we can all agree that the latter definitely sounds more appealing.3
  2. Searching for what is familiar is a way to feel safe and secure, even if it’s only a feeling. An illusion. For a moment, I could feel grounded because I recognized what was around me. Even if (and this is the kicker), it was an unhealthy situation for me.


If it means I have to keep deconstructing my life brick by brick to rebuild something more aligned and true, bring it on. If you’re feeling a similar call, let’s be bold together.


As I started playing around with coloring outside the lines, I was fearful of unraveling everything I had worked so hard for and was equally trepidatious to dive into the unknowns that come when we begin to consider the possibility that maybe we’ve been living half asleep. On the conveyor belt. Checking off all the tick boxes we feel we “need to”. And then I realized I’d rather strive to live fully awake and with intentionality, even if it makes me pause for a second (or in some cases, a few years) to consider if I have the courage to actually do it than to never attempt it at all.

The best gift we can give the world is bringing our fullest and truest selves. It doesn’t have to be a big thing all at once. Like the story of the tortoise and the hare, slow and steady wins the race. One small step at a time.

Potential Site of the Race Between the Tortoise and the Hare
(The Columbia River Gorge is incredibly scenic and the perfect spot for a race.)

Even if it means I have to be scared while I do it, I’ve decided I’m going to continue to march toward what I know feels right for me anyway. I’m accepting that there may be stretches along the way where I will be inching forward on my tiny little tortoise legs instead of sprinting like a bunny. (You just pictured me as a tortoise, didn’t you? That’s ok. I set myself up for that one.) 

If I have to deconstruct my life brick by brick to rebuild something more aligned and true, bring it on. If you’re feeling a similar call, let’s be bold together. Let’s step out of the box, dance however we want, and embrace our wonderful uniqueness. Our individual and collective healing depends on it.


1If you haven’t watched Ted Lasso yet, here’s the shameless plug for it. Take 31 minutes to watch the first episode. If you aren’t hooked at that point, I’m not sure we can be friends. Just kidding! I would still be friends with you. But you’d have to be okay with the fact that I might be wearing my Ted Lasso socks every time we hung out. (Disclaimer: Since the 3rd season isn’t yet out, I’m not responsible if it takes a hard left turn. This recommendation is based solely on Seasons 1 and 2.)

2 Rejection is Like Pain to the Brain

3 I’ve actually fallen down staircases twice in my life, so I can vouch for the fact that it hurts. Ironically, they both happened in similar ways. Tripped at the top, fell on my front, and bounced all the way down. Once I realized I was falling and there was no way to recover, I tried to do it as gracefully as possible. In case you were wondering, there is absolutely no way to fall down a staircase in a dignified manner. I’m feeling like there might be a life metaphor buried in there somewhere…

Presence Over Perfection

Meditation. It’s meant to be relaxing, right? But for YEARS, I would approach my meditation practice kicking and screaming. Even lasting 3 minutes* was torture—my mind churning through my to-do lists, all the things I’d rather be doing, and whether or not I turned the stove off. And that was just in the first 5 seconds. That still left 175 seconds for internal dialogue like, “Why can’t I just clear my mind for 3 minutes? I’m never going to be good meditator if I keep this up. Maybe if I hiked more, clearing my mind would come easier. I need to pick up some trail mix this week. My big toe hurts. I wonder if I tweaked it when I worked out this week. Should I stretch more next time? How do you stretch your toes? When is my yoga class this week? What day is it, again?” The chatter in my head rivals that of Lorelai Gilmore. The only thing missing from mine is a similar triumphant ending of “…monkey, monkey, underpants”.


Over the years, I’ve heard the term “progress over perfection” bandied about in different circles. That still doesn’t feel exactly right to me, though. Presence over perfection seems like a better approach.


I decided I had to start small. Smaller than 3 minutes a day, you ask? Yep. I started with 3 intentional rounds of breath a day. 4 counts in, hold for 4, out for 4 and hold for 4 at the bottom of the breath. It’s called box breathing, and that’s how I started to build a daily habit. It’s all I could commit to at first without feeling overwhelmed. And it’s something I knew I could do. Every day. For a recovering perfectionist like myself, I had to set an achievable consistent first step so that I wouldn’t shame myself into quitting altogether. Even though it’s called a meditation practice, I still found myself slipping into “but it has to be perfect” thinking. Ironically, this is something that meditation can help you overcome, but to get there, you have to first be okay with imperfection in your practice. So, you can see the problem. Hello, vicious cycle.

Over the years, I’ve heard the term “progress over perfection” bandied about in different circles. That still doesn’t feel exactly right to me, though. Presence over perfection seems like a better approach. Even if you don’t make what you deem “progress” over a week, the very fact that you intentionally chose to be present is a win. Give yourself props and keep going. There is no “one-size-fits-all” approach and trying to adopt a meditation style that doesn’t fit isn’t going to work. It’s going to feel like when we all went from wearing sweatpants every day during the pandemic lockdown to putting on jeans for the first time after months of luxuriously stretchy trousers. I don’t know about you, but those first steps back to denim were a solid “nope” for me.

There are visualizations, binaural beats or music that can help, breathing patterns, and the full-on “sit in silence” method. Play around and experiment! Try different combinations. But the most important thing—and I can’t emphasize this enough—is to start small and practice non-judgment. As a heads up (if you didn’t already know) that is much harder than it sounds. But it’s worth the work. When I judge myself for not doing enough or being enough or “doing it right”, it automatically shuts me down and prevents me from continuing to build the habit I was striving for, and I decided I didn’t want to keep getting in my own way.

The road to self compassion is an ongoing and challenging one. We can be so scathingly self-critical. Someone once said, “If you talked to your friends the way you talked to yourself, I’m guessing you wouldn’t have many friends.” And she was right. Now, when I catch myself being a bully to myself, I pause and recognize that I deserve better than that. I ask myself: if my friend came to me with this situation or problem, how would I respond to them? Often, it makes me realize just how much I expect from myself and how ridiculously unrealistic it is. Let yourself be human and fallible…and pick it back up again tomorrow.


Sometimes, nothing comes in the quiet. Sometimes, no matter what we do, we can’t calm our minds. But sometimes, profound revelations can happen when we make the space for them. That’s where the magic is.


As Elizabeth Gilbert learned from her friend, it’s okay to let go:

“At some point, as Richard keeps telling me, you gotta let go and sit still and allow contentment to come to you. Letting go, of course, is a scary enterprise for those of us who believe that the world revolves only because it has a handle on the top of it which we personally turn, and that if we were to drop this handle for even a moment, well—that would be the end of the universe. But try dropping it…sit quietly for now and cease your relentless participation. Watch what happens. The birds do not crash dead out of the sky in mid-flight after all. The trees do not wither and die, the rivers do not run red with blood. Life continues to go on…Why are you so sure that your micromanagement of every moment in this whole world is so essential? Why don’t you let it be?”1

Sometimes, nothing comes in the quiet. Sometimes, no matter what we do, we can’t calm our minds. But sometimes, profound revelations can happen when we make the space for them. That’s where the magic is. We just have to be brave enough to sit with all the things that may bubble up to the surface when we clear out the noise. Make friends with them. Even the ones that might be hard to befriend. They are all parts of us and deserve to be seen, heard, and acknowledged. May we find peace in the allowance of their presence and in our evolving relationship with them. 

And as you continue experimenting with your practice, you might want to try ending each of your meditation sessions with your version of, “…monkey, monkey, underpants”. Because life is too short to take ourselves so seriously and no one said meditation couldn’t also be fun. 

It’s time to make our own rules. Throw out the jeans (who needs ‘em?), break out the yoga pants (hello, non-constricting fabric), remember to breathe (box style, perhaps?), and give yourself permission to try again tomorrow if things don’t go the way you’d hoped today. You’ve got this.

* I’ve managed to work my way up to a consistent practice of 30 minutes a day. I’m not saying this to say, “Look how great I am!” I wanted to share this because I NEVER thought I’d ever be able to do it. But I found something that worked for me and that was the key. So, go on fellow experimenter! Find what works for you and don’t be afraid to try something new.

1Excerpt from Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.