Tag: trust

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

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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.

You Are Enough

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Today started out like most Sundays do. I ran through my morning routine. Walked my dog. Ate some breakfast. And then headed out the door to meet up with a good friend at a coffee shop so we could prepare some things for a retreat we’ll be co-guiding together.

As we talked through preparations, I paused when we started to talk about a communication we were going to draft because I felt unsure of myself. Knowing that I was hesitating, she looked directly at me and said, “I’m going to challenge you. You are a great writer. You have so much experience. I trust you. You are enough. Just as you are.” Each sentence ended with an intentional pause. As soon as she said, “you are enough”, I felt the tears well up and couldn’t stop them. She gave me a big hug, allowing me time to feel the feels, and then asked, “Is there something underneath this?”

I was flooded with memories of countless times throughout my life when I haven’t felt good enough. Strong enough. Fast enough. Thin enough. Smart enough. Interesting enough. Pretty enough. Talented enough. Brave enough. I was reminded of all the problems I couldn’t solve. Things I couldn’t fix. People I couldn’t save.

As I’ve grown, I’ve started to rewrite those narratives, but as anyone knows who has tried to do this work…it’s not easy. The stories stack up over time and no matter how hard we try to rewire ourselves, the echoes remain. Trying to get to a place where no situation or person (including yourself) can ever make you feel “not good enough” is quite the task.

The fear of not measuring up can make us want to hide because that’s safer than being seen and judged as not enough. Invisibility becomes our comfort zone. So, in hindsight, it makes sense that putting myself out into the world in the context of this work would have triggered all these past feelings of “not enough-ness”. But I wasn’t prepared for the realization of how strongly those old stories still had a hold on me.

I hope we all have at least one person in our lives who sees the real us and believes in us like my friend did today. They lovingly remind us of who we are in our darkest moments and help us continue to fight through the hard days. I’m so grateful to all the people who have shown up for me when I’ve needed it most.

To wrap up this post, I have a challenge for you. The next time you’re with someone and catch them in a moment when they aren’t feeling like they’re enough, please remind them that they are.

And if you need a little encouragement today, I’ll leave you with this:

No one is you, and that is your power.

Dave Grohl

The world needs YOU. It’s time to come out of hiding and step into your power.

You. Are. Enough.

Toward

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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.

Mid-Life Musings

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I’m at the stage in my life where I’ve been expecting the dreaded “mid-life crisis” to rear its ugly head. For the record, I haven’t yet dyed my hair, purchased an expensive vehicle, or run away to Vermont in search of a Hallmark-movie-worthy lumberjack decked out in some sort of plaid flannel.1 (If I do, you’ll be the first to know.)

I’ve decided to take a different approach to this season of my life. Am I doing things some people might think are out of the ordinary? Absolutely. This is the time for big change. But I’m not doing it to distract myself from the reality of my own mortality or to run from the inevitable. I’m making some bold decisions in service of running toward what feels most right for me—something I’ve neglected to do for a large portion of my life and which I’m no longer willing to do.

I was recently in a conversation with someone and started a sentence with, “I’ve never really been much of a risk taker…” to which she interrupted me with a laugh. And then said, “You’ve taken more risks in the last few years than I’ve taken in my entire life, so I think you need to stop saying that.” It was a stark reminder for me about how we see ourselves and how we often hold on to old ideas about who we are. I’ve never seen myself as a risk taker, and to be honest, I wasn’t in my younger years. This friend has only known me in what I’m calling “Phase 2” of my life and it got me thinking…it might be time for a rewrite of the story I’ve been telling myself about who I am—to adjust the narrative and step into who I am today.

As I’ve been talking to various people in my life, it seems that many of us are in a time of major transition. Exploring difficult questions. Making hard choices. Closing the doors on previous chapters so we can flip the page on new ones. All of those things can feel overwhelming and BIG. My hope for us is that we start thinking about this phase of our lives a bit differently. Rather than diving headfirst into crisis-mode, what if we took this as an opportunity to reevaluate? To take an unapologetically honest look at our lives and identify what still fits and what needs to change.

The truth is, once you have that realization, you can’t unsee it—and it requires you to make the call between staying stationary or making your way down a new path.

Pre-Phase 2, I was keeping myself in situations that were unhealthy and where I couldn’t bring my fullest and truest self. I had tricked myself into thinking I was “stuck”, but the reality was that I was the one keeping myself stuck. Sometimes, I didn’t want to admit to myself that I was in the driver’s seat of my life. That I had choices…even if they felt impossible to consider and insurmountable to make.

Once I acknowledged this, though, it meant that I was responsible for either keeping myself in those situations or choosing another option (which usually felt like the scarier of the roads). But the truth is, once you have that realization, you can’t unsee it—and it requires you to make the call between staying stationary or making your way down a new path.

Staring down the barrel of another cold, dark, and wet winter in the Pacific Northwest, I decided to follow the sun2 and booked an Airbnb somewhere warm for a few months. I hesitated right before I confirmed it—I wasn’t sure how my dog was going to do being away from home for that long. In chatting with a friend and sharing that concern, she said, “What if she thrives being on the road with you and being somewhere warmer?” Once again, I was being challenged to question my default assumptions and confront myself with a familiar inquiry: “Am I looking for reasons to keep myself stuck in what feels comfortable even if it’s not honoring what I feel called to do?”

So, I decided to take the plunge. And guess what? My dog is doing better here. She’s acting like she did when she was two or three years younger—more energy, better sleep, less pain. And I’m feeling similarly.

Feeling the warmth on a sunset walk

Some of the biggest leaps I’ve taken have resulted in some of the best experiences I’ve had, reminding me to keep going—urging me on. To try new things. To persist. To run after what feels right.

To honor these major transitions that many of us are navigating, I’d like to propose a change in terminology for the “mid-life crisis”. I want us to think of it more as a mid-life awakening. A time for us to take stock of all the things that got us here. All the things that make us who we are. What lights us up. What propels us forward. What dreams are still unfulfilled. And then I want us to relentlessly run after all of it—full out. Yes, our time here is limited. But instead of that scaring us into distractions and denial, let’s allow it to strip away the things that have been holding us back so we can step into this next phase as fully alive as we can possibly be.

When I look back on my life, I want to know that I honored that call…even if I had to let fear come along for the ride. If you’re in a similar spot, take some deep breaths. Remember everything you’ve survived to get here and stand firm in the knowledge that we can do scary things.

Let’s embrace the awakening—it’s here to help us find our way to what is most resonant for each of us. I know it might be easier to just dye our hair purple and jet off to a quaint town in search of someone who can teach us how to tap a tree…but will that really satisfy what our soul craves? I want to challenge us to run toward what lights us up instead of away from what feels daunting.

Am I scared? You bet. But I’m going to keep going anyway. If you want to join me, consider this an open invitation. We ride at dawn.

1 I’m not a fan of Hallmark Christmas movies (no judgment if you are), but if you’re in the same boat and are ever in a situation where you are subjected to a Hallmark movie watch party against your will, Google “Hallmark Movie Bingo” and play along to entertain yourself for that hour and a half of your life that you’re never getting back.

2 Give Follow the Sun by Xavier Rudd a listen for some inspiration and good vibes.

Making Friends With the Wild Things

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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

The Messy Middle

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Limbo. The in-between. Neither here nor there. In suspension. 

These are all phrases that describe the feeling when you’re in the process of big transitions and have jumped from one side but haven’t made it to the other yet. I personally prefer using the term “messy middle” because that’s realistically more of what it feels like to me. Let’s get rid of the fluffy language and inspirational posters about “enjoying the journey” and really dig into what it means to be in the space between.

When I find myself in the “messy middle”, the only remedies I’ve found that help me sit with the discomfort of those moments are getting out in nature and listening to music (not always done together or in that order).

If I’m sitting with something really big, I have to get outside. In true Pacific NW fashion, that typically means heading to a trail in the woods…preferably on a mountain somewhere. Away from my computer. Away from my phone. Away from distractions. That’s where I can catch my breath, clear out the noise, and just be.

One of my favorite ways to process hard things is to grab my backpack and spend the entire day hiking in the woods. Crossing streams. Sitting with my feet in waterfall pools. Listening to the wind in the trees. Hearing the impact of my hiking boots hitting the trail. My breath going in and out as I climb…and then taking in the amazing views when I make it to the top. Sitting in wonder—finally reconnecting to the heart of myself and also feeling like a small part of something so much bigger than me. That’s where I find my center.

If I can combine hikes with ocean views, I’m always down for that.

So, where does music come in?

My obsession with music started when I was a kid. I played it all the time. And I mean all the time. When the Walkman1 became a thing, I was hooked. It meant I could take my tunes with me wherever I went. Music has always spoken to my soul in a way that nothing else does—it goes beyond the words and melodies—it touches places within me that I can’t get to any other way. I still use music to process hard things, and even when I’m not in the midst of big stuff, I usually have something going in the background. Studying. Working. Hanging with friends. Road trips. Workouts. They all have soundtracks. 

These are some of the “messy middle” songs2 I’ve been listening to lately:

(Never Let Me Go  |   Florence + The Machine)

For me, this is a reminder to surrender to the unfolding and natural flow of life. So often, we try and control outcomes or make plans in an effort to protect ourselves. What if we let the “arms of the ocean” carry us for awhile instead?

(Every Teardrop is a Waterfall  |  Coldplay)

When I first heard this song, the lyrics about being “in the gap between the two trapezes” stuck with me. I’ve caught myself humming this song a lot lately because my life is feeling very much like I’m hanging in that gap. (Side note: This is a 2-for-1 growth opportunity for me. Since I have a fear of heights, I can work on that whilst I also try to make my peace with existing between one side and the other.)

(Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay  |  Otis Redding)

One of my favorite things is to sit on a sand dune and watch the waves roll in and out. It has been hard for me to embrace stillness, but I’m getting there. I’ve been working on finding the value in myself beyond what I can “produce” or “do”. There’s a peace that comes with knowing that our existence is enough. We are enough—just as we are.

(The Space Between  |  Dave Matthews Band)

The longer I’m alive, the more I realize just how much time we truly spend in “the space between”. Languishing. Longing. Yearning. Waiting for what’s next. I’ve been trying to embrace both the tears and the laughter, knowing that both are temporary and will undoubtedly come around—again and again—as we sit in the messy middles of life.

(The Eye  |  Brandi Carlile)

This conjures up such a beautiful image for me…and is also aspirational. It would be incredible to be able to let the chaos of life swirl around me, and instead of letting it batter me about, I could stay grounded in the eye of the storm. And dance.

As you swing from one trapeze to the next, remember who you are and that you are loved—regardless of when that other side rises up to meet you.

If you’re in some “messy middles” in your life, know this:

It’s okay to be in the mess. It’s okay to be exactly where you are—you don’t need to fix it or figure it out today. Find some anchors. In a close friend. A favorite song. A beautiful trail hike. Your own breath. Stay grounded in the knowledge that you are not alone in the in-between.3

As you swing from one trapeze to the next, remember who you are and that you are loved—regardless of when that other side rises up to meet you. Because it will. It might not look like what you thought it would, but it will come. Until then, let’s do our best to dance in the eye of the storm together. Maybe with a little flair. Because, let’s be real…it’s just more fun that way.

1 For those of you that are too young to know what a Walkman is, Google it and prepare to be amused. Side note: If you’re really young, you might also have to Google “cassette tape”.

2 Disclaimer: Everyone has their own interpretation of songs and there are usually many different ones out there—these interpretations are my own (and can also change by the minute depending on what I’m feeling in the moment), but feel free to steal them if they will help you process your own big stuff.

3 If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been so distracted by processing my own “messy middles” lately, that I absentmindedly put my keys in the freezer this morning. You’re doing just fine.

Soul Friends

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“Is it going to be awkward?”

“What will I say?”

“What if she doesn’t like me once we hang out in person?”

These thoughts were flying through my head—as quickly as the plane I was on—as I made my way across the country to see my best friend for the first time. She and I had met through a pen-pal program when we were 8 years old. After countless letters and phone calls, the day had finally arrived…now at 16, I was headed out to her family home.

After the first few minutes of “I can’t believe it’s really YOU!”, we settled into our comfortable rhythm. We did what most teenagers do—ate junk food, stayed up way too late talking and giggling into the wee hours of the morning, and tooling around her quaint country hometown. After a couple of weeks, an irrevocable bond had been strengthened. Her family had become my family…and the rest is history.

Soul friends have a way of helping you from one side of the river to the other.

For those of you who know me well, you know of whom I speak. For those that don’t, here’s all you need to know: she is the most important human in my life. My person. My ride or die. We joke that when we get older, we’re going to move in together and live out our final years in each other’s company. I have no doubt that we’re going to have a rip-roaring good time until the very end. 

Our connection started early—almost instantly. We both loved reading books. And when I say we both loved reading books, I mean A LOT. Our letters were chock full of reading recommendations. We talked about our families. Our friends. As we got older, we started sharing more of the real things. Dreams. Love. Heartbreak. Big changes. Loss. Triumphs. Fears. Joys. Life. 

Every so often, we talk about how rare connections like ours are. When you feel as if a string is connected from your soul to theirs. When you don’t have to ask how they’re feeling because you just know. 

On my last visit, she was getting a couple of her kids situated in the car. It wasn’t quite going to plan. I was sitting in the passenger seat, and she looked over at me with a knowing glance. I looked back with an equally knowing glance, and she said “See? This is why we’re friends. You know exactly what I’m thinking right now and I don’t have to say a word.” And then we laughed as we pulled out of the parking lot. 

That moment when it hits you—the feeling like you’ve known them in another life or something.

There is such comfort in our friendship. Whenever I’m around her, I feel like I can finally exhale. I feel safe, seen, held, and loved—simply because of her existence in the world. I can be fully myself. No judgment. What a lucky woman I am…and what a gift to have been given.

There have only been a couple of other times when I have felt that type of deep soul connection with someone. That moment when it hits you—the feeling like you’ve known them in another life or something. You’re seeing directly into their heart as they’re looking into yours. No filter. No pretense. Just depth. And realness. And a connection so strong, you almost can’t believe it exists.

Friendship isn’t a big thing.
It’s a million little things.

Becca Anderson

If you find those soul friends, cherish every moment with them. They don’t come around very often and you never know how long you’ll have with them when they do. From the 5-minute conversations as one (or both) of you are running errands, to the week-long visits—every moment counts. 

Often, we think that friendship needs to be this big, grand thing, but the truth is that “Friendship isn’t a big thing. It’s a million little things.” (Becca Anderson)1 

The soul friendships I’ve been lucky enough to find have not only helped me feel deeply connected to something bigger, but have also helped me find my way. 

While Stephen Cope2 talks about many different types of soul friends—this definition is the most resonant for me:

“They have been irreplaceable companions as you’ve worked your way up the path toward an understanding of the meaning of your life. They’ve shared your struggles to understand, to make meaning, to express and fulfill your true self, and to see into the depths of your soul. They have become conscious partners and allies in your search for an authentic and fulfilled life.”

I couldn’t have said it better. 

A huge thank you to all of my soul friends—without you, I wouldn’t be me. You have shaped my experience. Held space for me. Seen me. Loved me. Celebrated with me in the high moments—and sat with me in my darkest days. What an honor it is to be in true connection with you.3

Cheers to the million little things we’ve shared so far…and the million little things to come. I wouldn’t want to do life any other way.

1 Need a good cry? Watch A Million Little Things.

2 If the topic of Soul Friends interests you, check out this book. It provides a fascinating look at all of the different types of soul friendships you might encounter.

3 If you have a soul friend (or two), this is your sign to call them. Or text them. Or just send them a little love.

Going Solo (Part 3)

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“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.

Going Solo (Part 2)

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“If a tree falls in the woods, but no one is around to hear it, did it make a noise?” This feels related to a more relevant question for today: “If we don’t take pictures of our experiences and post them, did they really happen?” (In case you’re wondering? Yes. I realize how old I sound when I say things like that.) 

As I’m traveling, I regularly battle against the desire to take pictures of literally everything. Each time I turn a corner, there is some beautiful sight to behold and the temptation to capture it is so strong. After a couple of days of fighting the urge, I made a deal with myself. I could take a few pictures of whatever I wanted, but then I made myself put the phone away and just stand in the moment. Taking it all in. The light. The sounds. The smells. The feelings. And I let myself say things like “I can’t believe I’m actually standing here looking at this.” I allowed the goodness to wash over me and didn’t move on until I felt ready.

Photography is a favorite hobby of mine, so it’s ridiculously easy for me to get swept up in capturing a moment while forgetting to actually be in the moment. The lesson for me in all of this is to slow down and intentionally be present in my life as much as possible. Much easier said than done—but a worthy cause.

Similarly, I had to resist the pull to see “all the things”. As I walked the streets, a little voice in the back of my mind would whisper, “How can you come to [insert city name] and not see [insert name of famous structure/art piece/park…]? If you’re not seeing those things, are you really doing this trip right?” As the days passed, it became easier to quiet that voice. And the people I met along the way helped me. 

My first impulse was to feel frustration at the unexpected turn of events, but then I realized that my word of intention for 2023 was TRUST. So I trusted. And I’m so glad I did.

About halfway through the train trip from Bilbao to Barcelona, we suddenly ground to a halt. Everyone around me was chattering away in Spanish and I had no clue what was going on. The woman next to me, seeing that I couldn’t understand, opened her phone and typed a phrase into Google Translate to let me know that the delay was likely going to be a long one—at least an hour. 

My first impulse was to feel frustration at the unexpected turn of events, but then I realized that my word of intention for 2023 was TRUST. So I trusted. And I’m so glad I did. That first sentence she typed into Google Translate turned into hours of us typing back and forth to each other—a friendship forged out of what some would deem a misfortune. I learned about where she was from, things she loved to do, and some interests we had in common. When she found out I grew up in California, she said something that I didn’t understand and gestured like she was a gorilla. My quizzical expression sent her back to her phone and she typed “Arnold Schwarzenegger”. I laughed and typed back, “It’s sad to me that’s what people outside the states think of when they think of California,” which then sent us both into a fit of giggles and a handful of Terminator jokes. 

It then hit me that I would need to try and contact the person who was supposed to meet me where I was staying to let me in. It was already going to be a late check-in, but now I wondered how in the world I was supposed to expect someone to stay up past midnight to let me in. His response? “I won’t leave you sleeping in the streets! And remember: there’s nothing to worry about, we are in Spain!” Another lesson in trusting. In believing in the goodness of other humans. In rolling with the moment. Everything has a way of working out—even if it’s not in the way we expect. 

Looking up in La Sagrada Familia

After arriving in Barcelona and getting a good sleep, I found myself in La Sagrada Familia the next day. I had seen it from the outside before, but had never been inside and let me tell you—if you’re questioning whether or not to buy the ticket, DO IT. It was one of the few places I’ve been where my breath was literally taken away when I stepped through the doors. I let myself marvel at every incredible view. As I wondered into each nook and cranny, I found this small area in a back corner with an agent standing at the entrance. He informed me that the space was for meditation, reflection, or prayer and that there were no pictures allowed. I agreed and entered. It was a chapel space with a few pews and only one other person already there—he left soon after I took my seat in the back. My intention was for reflection. I’m not a religious person and trying to meditate in such a spectacular setting felt like it was just setting me up for failure in such a mind-blowingly beautiful place. Good luck not getting distracted, right? 

As I sat there reflecting on my life, and in particular, these last few years—the tears flowed freely. The culmination of the “everything’s” and the intensity of those “everything’s”. Joy. Grief. Pain. Exuberance. Gratitude. All at once. In this transcendent space, I let myself feel it all. A woman walked in a minute later and my first reaction was one of embarrassment until I realized that she was crying, too. She took her seat at the other end of the pew I was sitting in, and we both took in the gorgeous light of the stained glass windows while feeling all the feels. I don’t know anything about her. I don’t know her name or what her life is like. I don’t know why she was crying. But in that moment, I felt inextricably connected to her. After I had processed what I felt like I needed, I got ready to leave. I looked over at her and she looked back at me. Tears still in our eyes, we each placed a hand over our hearts in acknowledgement of the other. A soft smile which was immediately reciprocated. And then I slipped out quietly, not wanting to disturb the rest of her time.

When I’m headed in the right direction, I now have deep clarity about what that feels like. Heart forward. Heart open.

When I finally stepped outside to get one last look at this massive architectural masterpiece, I felt an all-consuming warmth and contentment of spirit—and also a renewed resolve to continue following this path I’m on. Something has clicked in a big way for me on this trip. When I’m headed in the right direction, I now have deep clarity about what that feels like. Heart forward. Heart open.

Yesterday, I caught a train from Aix-en-Provence to Bordeaux and as I was waiting on the platform, three Italian women came and sat next to me, asking me if they were catching the right train. Trotting out the faithful Google Translate, we had a lovely conversation as we waited. When we parted at the transfer in Marseille, the woman I talked with the most thanked me for the chat, wished me a wonderful trip, and kissed me on each cheek with a “Ciao, bella!” and a hearty wave in farewell.

So, in answer to my previous question of “Am I doing this trip right?” The answer is YES. Absolutely. These new friends and moments of true connection mean more to me than any place I’ve visited. Although all of my experiences over the last few weeks will forever hold a special place in my heart, it’s the lovely interactions I will remember most—a vibrant reminder of our shared humanity. What a gift.