As many of you have noticed (and commented on), I took quite the unanticipated sabbatical from blogging. For once, this was not the result of my instinctual disinterest in finishing any and every project that I begin. This was something very different; something I'd never experienced previous. This was me coming to a point in this journey that could, in no way, be glamorized; seemingly the only point I'd ever reached in my entire life in which no words held the ability to make sense of the turmoil that I had encountered. I spent a week frantically searching for even an entry-level understanding of what was happening to me, but nonetheless found that one week was not enough. Week two brought some clarity, but trailing behind it was a double dose of confusion. Week three presented logistical challenges that aimed to combat any progress I'd made, and week four has brought me here.
I still haven't collected enough evidence to piece this peculiar puzzle back together in a way that I can understand it in its' totality, but I have gained some insight as to why I felt that my life was crumbling before me. I gathered, first and foremost, that I love the adventure of life, and that when life does not invoke the emotions of adventure, I barely feel alive. When you place that concept next to the notion that I hate routine, crave change, and much prefer to be adaptable as opposed to prepared, it all adds up. I'm seeing the same 10 people every day now. I'm spending hours a day at the same places doing the same things in the same ways. I feel that I'm living a life that lacks substance and wastes potential, and in my deep, inner-reality, that is the exact definition of a crumbling, 22 year-old life.
You see, in life, I believe there to be two options; (1) The option to go where you have a safety net and have to make the difficult decision every single day not to use it, or (2) the option to go where you just point-blank, don't have a safety net. Both can technically result in growth, but the second is a means of trapping yourself in an environment in which growth is the only option. I typically choose the latter (ex. Chicago, Colombia, the 4K, Pledge Mom), but for the first time, I made the opposite choice, and I'm actively learning how poorly that approach works for me. I'm rotting away in the comfort of my own temporary home, watching reruns of The Real Housewives of a city that I don't care about and eating face full's of cookies that I meant to bake for someone else. It's all way too easy here - way too comfortable, and in my life specifically, when life gets easy, it quickly gets ugly.
My way of escaping the easiness (and therefore, ugliness) of life is to fill it with these types of adventures that each have a Page Tab to call their own somewhere in my blog. I stack these adventures one on top of the next, back to back, drowning out and distracting myself from the mundane intervals between them. I was under the impression that this was a subconscious strategy that would work forever, but I'm currently standing in a thigh-high puddle of proof that it won't.
I have my mentor, Justin Woodard, to thank for the conclusion that I've come to. A good cry session and chocolate chip muffin later, he'd given me the words that I'd been both looking and longing for. "Halle, years from now, when you look back on your life, it will be defined by these momentous leaps. You don't walk through life; you don't step through life. You leap. You're not used to not leaping, and that's what's burdening you. You blame yourself for not having a huge opportunity in front of your face; for not knowing how to turn this in-between-leaps moment into an adventure. Maybe it's things like this that simply can't be made adventurous, and the answer is less about building an adventure out of this, and more about looking for your next one."
Aside from being wise, humble, and brilliant, he's also very correct.
With this new understanding of myself and my situation, I'm shifting my energy and changing my mind; pursuing leads that offer up unique opportunities of different shapes and sizes and pressing the smartest people in my life to share their wisdom. I'm peacefully and enthusiastically getting back to the good stuff: exploring, creating, inventing, strategizing, learning, questioning, conversing, writing, and many other things that end with -ing that don't include carrying the weight of the world on my innocent yet inspired shoulders. I'm trusting the wise words of another mentor, Bill Connolly, who told me that the kinds of things that I just went through "will always lead to something more interesting or better."
I presume that it will and already is. Perhaps this post-grad puzzle is just finally beginning to take form.
I still haven't collected enough evidence to piece this peculiar puzzle back together in a way that I can understand it in its' totality, but I have gained some insight as to why I felt that my life was crumbling before me. I gathered, first and foremost, that I love the adventure of life, and that when life does not invoke the emotions of adventure, I barely feel alive. When you place that concept next to the notion that I hate routine, crave change, and much prefer to be adaptable as opposed to prepared, it all adds up. I'm seeing the same 10 people every day now. I'm spending hours a day at the same places doing the same things in the same ways. I feel that I'm living a life that lacks substance and wastes potential, and in my deep, inner-reality, that is the exact definition of a crumbling, 22 year-old life.
You see, in life, I believe there to be two options; (1) The option to go where you have a safety net and have to make the difficult decision every single day not to use it, or (2) the option to go where you just point-blank, don't have a safety net. Both can technically result in growth, but the second is a means of trapping yourself in an environment in which growth is the only option. I typically choose the latter (ex. Chicago, Colombia, the 4K, Pledge Mom), but for the first time, I made the opposite choice, and I'm actively learning how poorly that approach works for me. I'm rotting away in the comfort of my own temporary home, watching reruns of The Real Housewives of a city that I don't care about and eating face full's of cookies that I meant to bake for someone else. It's all way too easy here - way too comfortable, and in my life specifically, when life gets easy, it quickly gets ugly.
My way of escaping the easiness (and therefore, ugliness) of life is to fill it with these types of adventures that each have a Page Tab to call their own somewhere in my blog. I stack these adventures one on top of the next, back to back, drowning out and distracting myself from the mundane intervals between them. I was under the impression that this was a subconscious strategy that would work forever, but I'm currently standing in a thigh-high puddle of proof that it won't.
I have my mentor, Justin Woodard, to thank for the conclusion that I've come to. A good cry session and chocolate chip muffin later, he'd given me the words that I'd been both looking and longing for. "Halle, years from now, when you look back on your life, it will be defined by these momentous leaps. You don't walk through life; you don't step through life. You leap. You're not used to not leaping, and that's what's burdening you. You blame yourself for not having a huge opportunity in front of your face; for not knowing how to turn this in-between-leaps moment into an adventure. Maybe it's things like this that simply can't be made adventurous, and the answer is less about building an adventure out of this, and more about looking for your next one."
Aside from being wise, humble, and brilliant, he's also very correct.
With this new understanding of myself and my situation, I'm shifting my energy and changing my mind; pursuing leads that offer up unique opportunities of different shapes and sizes and pressing the smartest people in my life to share their wisdom. I'm peacefully and enthusiastically getting back to the good stuff: exploring, creating, inventing, strategizing, learning, questioning, conversing, writing, and many other things that end with -ing that don't include carrying the weight of the world on my innocent yet inspired shoulders. I'm trusting the wise words of another mentor, Bill Connolly, who told me that the kinds of things that I just went through "will always lead to something more interesting or better."
I presume that it will and already is. Perhaps this post-grad puzzle is just finally beginning to take form.
GENERAL LIFE UPDATES //
Though I've gotten to the bottom of what was throwing me off, I've still been trying to make little changes that add up, introducing new, positive influences and ridding my daily life of old, negative ones. A perfect example of this - I stopped using Instagram for social reasons and started using it for creative inspiration, networking, and idea sharing. Switched my photo-posting outlet to a different platform, one that I utilize purely for expression as opposed to validation (http://vsco.co/hollalujah).
I've also really been trying to get some distance from the routine that's dragging me down. I've made a couple of exploratory trips, many more in the works (Baltimore, Montreal, Philly, etc.), but my favorite thus far has been the severely open-ended day trip to Ogunquit, Maine alongside perhaps the most beautiful soul I've ever crossed paths with (Sarah Egner). We climbed on rocks like small children, ate fresh apple orchard apples, and spent a feel-good amount of time sharing and gaining perspective.
To infuse even more distance between me and my unwanted routine, I took 3 days off from work @ Starbucks to be an imitation brand ambassador for a Kellogg's-owned brand called Kashi. Dressed in bright green (which by NO means flatters me), I worked the Kashi booth at this year's Boston-based Food & Nutrition Conference & Expo (#FNCE). I met a ton of intelligent people (and nutty Registered Dieticians), got a window into what innovation looks like in progressive health food industries, mastered a million talking points regarding an ancient Ethiopian grain called Teff, and realized just how many more people I can relate to and connect with after having biked from coast to coast crossing 15 states. I walked away with some much-welcomed business cards, a fat paycheck, and a month's worth of Dark Cocoa Karma Shredded Wheat Biscuit cereal.
As a portion of trying to get back to the core of what makes me different, I'm trying to do normal things in un-normal ways. Consequently, I spent a normal Monday night in a less-than-normal way, eating takeout Chipotle with my roommate while watching a two hour documentary that energized the both of us to the nth degree. It was called Tony Robbins: I'm Not Your Guru. It struck a major chord with both of us because our Why Statements, though different, intersect one another at the point of becoming motivational speakers. This roommate of mine (shoutout to Andrew Alario) has been the other brain involved in making the magic happen throughout most of my public/motivational speaking moments thus far. Watching the documentary, we paused a million times to ask tough questions, brainstorm ideas, and get excited about what the future holds for us. In hopes of attending one of the $5,000 conferences he holds and gaining the opportunity to learn from the best, we've already begun putting passion-driven e-mails in his inbox.
Part of switching up the normality of my situation is bringing new people on scene. I had the lovely opportunity to spend two great weekends with two awesome sets of guests. I got a much needed visit from my sister and my mom (and friends Ben/Wendy :D), and another with my brother and his darling new friends (Dave, Lorena, and Maddie.) My brother was kind enough to leave behind a t-shirt for me printed with words that strongly resonated with my stance on life. It just so happens to be La Salle University, Isaac's school's new slogan, and a phrase that I'm proud to personally represent. "Explorers are never lost."
And even when I felt completely lost this past month, there were people out there who found me, and at that, found me valuable. I'm honored that my beloved business fraternity from college, DSP, has asked me to come back and put on a professional event for the chapter and the new class of pledges. I'm thrilled for another opportunity to assess my coaching, speaking, and motivating skills. I'm thrilled to be back in the ring. And I'm especially thrilled to be one event closer to becoming an influential and empowering speaker. I still have two weeks to figure it out, but I plan to discuss a life that is led by one's values and teach strategies for determining our values and then using them as a compass as we move through life. I'm hoping that this is a message that will be well received, if only because all college kids share a mutual need for direction.
And last but not least for some general life updates, I'm finally finding myself back in the land of opportunity. I'm about to look into and reach out to a bunch of recently-recommended connections, ranging from social media masterminds (@lucialitman) to big wig political lobbyists in need of content creation. I have a feeling I'm about to find myself in one (or more) of those adventures that I've been searching for.
Before I leave you (with a promise of a post next week), I'd like to present an ode to the humorous nature of life.
Just last night, while getting ready for bed, I accidentally side swiped an entire roll of toilet paper off the counter and into the toilet. Would've ended up there anyway, but in a much slower and more cost-effective way.
The week previous, I'd spent a fortune on Chinese food that would last me for lunch that day and likely 3-4 meals of leftovers. I walked home from work without bringing the food home (oops, big mistake), then made the trek, starving, ten minutes back to work in the pouring rain to collect my food. I walked through the doors, drenched and determined, only to arrive to the sight of my coworkers' stunned faces. They'd already eaten my leftovers, enjoying every bite, and definitely did not expect me to come back for it. They vowed to wait more than an hour next time before eating leftover food, and I vowed to be less forgetful. Too funny.
And as if it doesn't get any funnier, a week before that, at the peak of my quarter-life crisis, I was outside @ midnight crying on an important phone call, once again in the middle of a rainstorm, when I looked down and saw in the grass none other than a had-to-be-symbolic fortune cookie, unopened and waiting for me patiently just beside my feet. I picked it up, finished my call, and went inside to see what life was trying to tell me. Sure enough, it was a sign; a sign to not think that everything is a sign. I anticipated a fortune about taking life slow or coping with struggle, but instead, the fortune cookie read, and I quote, "Nothing travels faster than a bad check."
Moral of the story here - even in the lowest of lows, life is funny, life is eventful, and life is a blessing.
Just last night, while getting ready for bed, I accidentally side swiped an entire roll of toilet paper off the counter and into the toilet. Would've ended up there anyway, but in a much slower and more cost-effective way.
The week previous, I'd spent a fortune on Chinese food that would last me for lunch that day and likely 3-4 meals of leftovers. I walked home from work without bringing the food home (oops, big mistake), then made the trek, starving, ten minutes back to work in the pouring rain to collect my food. I walked through the doors, drenched and determined, only to arrive to the sight of my coworkers' stunned faces. They'd already eaten my leftovers, enjoying every bite, and definitely did not expect me to come back for it. They vowed to wait more than an hour next time before eating leftover food, and I vowed to be less forgetful. Too funny.
And as if it doesn't get any funnier, a week before that, at the peak of my quarter-life crisis, I was outside @ midnight crying on an important phone call, once again in the middle of a rainstorm, when I looked down and saw in the grass none other than a had-to-be-symbolic fortune cookie, unopened and waiting for me patiently just beside my feet. I picked it up, finished my call, and went inside to see what life was trying to tell me. Sure enough, it was a sign; a sign to not think that everything is a sign. I anticipated a fortune about taking life slow or coping with struggle, but instead, the fortune cookie read, and I quote, "Nothing travels faster than a bad check."
Moral of the story here - even in the lowest of lows, life is funny, life is eventful, and life is a blessing.
On a real note, I want to thank all of the people who reached out over the last month due to an inclination that something was wrong. I appreciate the attentive and intentional care of the people in my life and will continue to do all that I can to bless other people in the same way. See you next week for an update on the opportunities that lie ahead! P.S. I HAVE A BED NOW!