permission to slow the fuck down

Life in the fast lane feels like those last few moments before a big trip. You've known about the trip you're about to embark on, but despite knowing you were going to be leaving three months prior, it's the night before your 6am flight and you're running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to get your shit together. You haven't packed. You haven't done laundry. You haven't looked at the forecast and you sure as shit haven't checked in online yet. You have everything to do and all the time that you could have been preparing has come and gone. And now that you think about it, you haven't eaten anything all day because you've be so preoccupied with everything that you should have been doing but weren't, and now you're hangry AF.

I realize this sounds dramatic, but I'll be completely honest when I say that this is how I feel at least 6/7 days of the week. This kind of lifestyle lends itself to the there's-always-something-to-be-done-but-never-enough-time mindset and to be quite frank, I'm really sick of it.

Man, I get so caught up in living that fast life and thinking about time and ‘how little’ or ‘how much’ I have of it. It seems like no matter what I do, there’s always an excess or a shortage and when I have one, I long for the other. Oy. And then I get so flustered and frazzled thinking about how little or much time I have, all of the sudden I’ve missed the moment and I find myself smack dab in the middle of another one. So, what gives?

We all know the saying “time flies when you’re having fun”. Yeah, yeah. Sometimes I think that holds true. Most of the time though, I just feel like that phrase was coined by a sixth-year college student who didn’t want to give up binge drinking more nights (and days, if we’re being realistic) of the week than not, mingling with the coeds, sleeping in and skipping class. I digress.

I’ll get to the point eventually….promise.

Some context for you: I have been thinking a whole lot about time lately, and I have been actively working to change my relationship with it. This looks like limiting my Netflix binges and making time for reading, mono-tasking (apparently it’s a thing, who knew?), attempting to and mostly failing at cutting back on working and checking social media all day erryday, and continuing to ixnay words from my vocabulary like “busy” or “not enough” when it relates to time. Guys. I am so very emotionally exhausted. Do you know how hard it is to try and break free from old habits? Oh, I know you know. It’s just too damn easy to get home after a 10+ hour day and literally hurl myself onto the couch and flip the switch on my brain off. It’s usually all I can handle.

Okay, so the other night I hopped into bed earlier than usual so I could get a good start on my shiny new book before I inevitably fell asleep mid-read. But before I did, some interesting things transpired.

After what felt three hours, I reached over to check what time it was. It had been 22 minutes. Only 22! That meant I had, I don’t know, like at least 30 more minutes in me before I’d pass out. So I read on. After what felt like another 3 hours had passed, I looked over to check my phone again and make sure I haven’t stayed up past my bedtime. Now only 15 more minutes had passed. I continued to read. I probably repeated this three or four more times, each time getting more and more excited about how little time had passed. And eventually, I was out like a lightbulb. Sawing logs. Drooling all over my shiny new book. Can’t you just picture it?

So, if you’re thinking W-T-F was that the only interesting thing that transpired? Kind of, yeah. Sorry….I had to get you to keep reading somehow. But stay with me people.

When I accidentally (imagine air me doing air quotes and the use of accidentally makes more sense) serial watch a show on Netflix, I get eight episodes deep in what it feels like only two. I’m always left wanting more, I never feel satisfied, and I always feel robbed of time. This is probably because I am on my computer toggling between online shopping and writing emails, while scrolling Instagram on my phone, and watching (imagine more air quotes around watching) the series. But I think this is also in part due to how my time is being spent. I guess time really flies when you're attempting to do fifteen things at once. And I mean I love me some Parks & Rec re-runs and laughing out loud during Grace & Frankie, but at the end of the day TV just isn’t something that recharges me or brings me joy. Happiness, sure. But not joy. For the record: multi-tasking brings me neither happiness nor joy, only stress eating, anxiety headaches and bags beneath my eyes.

Have you ever tried to keep track of time when you’re with someone who makes your heart happy? Or when you’re hiking up a mountain? Or laying in the grass staring up at the stars? Obviously this list is different for you, but just think about it. Man, time just drags, and I mean that in only the best way. It feels like time is infinite and that nothing else exists outside of that exact moment. Except if you're checking your emails or seeing who posted what on Instagram every twenty minutes, that is. Oh boy, that's when time really gets away from ya.

I have discovered, while reading my book and obsessively and incessantly checking the time, that time slows down in those moments and periods of time when I am devoting my time and full attention to the people, places, and passions that make me happy to be alive.These are the moments when time is the closest it will ever get to standing still, and I am alllllll about filling my life full with more of them.

I've always looked at time as the enemy, but as it turns out, that's just me being an asshole and either being too distracted (squirrel) or fearful to look at what I'm doing and could be doing, or not doing, differently. Ugh, it's so much easier to put the blame on someone or something else, isn't it? But it's also so freeing realizing that I have so much more control over my life than I sometimes choose to acknowledge. Life feels fast, but as it turns out it doesn't have to.

My permission slip for today, and many days to come: slow the fuck down and prioritize the things that feel like warm fuzzies.

retreat yoself

This weekend I got to experience what it really means to “surround yourself with people who make you want to be a better person”. That particular adage was one of those things that I thought I knew what it meant but I didn’t actually grasp its vast profoundness of it until now, you know?

I was fortunate enough to have the chance to spend a long weekend in Ojai, California on a yoga and life design retreat put on by Rock Your Bliss with 20+ other women. Some of these ladies I had met before, and some of them I knew through social media (it’s not all bad, see?!). Most of these badass babes were new to me, but everyone left as lifelong friend, whether they currently know it or not. Ha!

Let’s address the elefante in the room: that’s a lot of raw, unbridled feminine energy flying around one little hippie town in California, I know. Can’t you just picture it? But seriously you guys, it was fucking awesome.

And this is coming from a girl (moi, in case you haven’t been following along) who was quite frankly terrified of other women for most of my life. For way longer than I care to disclose I let insecurities, limiting self-beliefs, fear and envy kept me from opening up to women; even those women who I admired or who I was inspired by. If you would have told 18-year-old me that I would be spending the weekend of January 18-21, 2018 with a large group of women in a relatively confined space, I would have told you that you were completely off your damn rocker.

Due to the nature of retreating, the theme for our weekend was all about self-care. It was about meeting ourselves in the moment, being present, open and receptive to what we wanted and needed at any given moment, and to hold space for ourselves to make decisions with ourselves as the priority, all while flipping guilt, shame, and limiting beliefs the bird. It really is as liberating, if not more so, than it sounds.

I’m not one to put myself first, second, or even seventh. In all honesty, I’m a huge b-i-t-c-h to myself. I’m horrible at taking care of my own personal wants and needs. I mean come on, I can’t even give myself the fucking consolation prize here? That ain’t right. Even I know that, but it has become habit and as they say, old habits die hard.

Here’s the deal: I’m working essentially four jobs which means there is always something to be done. And when there’s business to be attended to that allows for me to buy sneakers, travel, pay for my Netflix account and oh, buy groceries and pay rent, well, self-care just doesn’t seem high on the totem pole of priorities. I know you feel me. 

With that said, though, I decided to really give self-care a go and doing some serious permission slip writing, and as you can imagine, I had the freaking time of my life. I got a massage. I walked around barefoot. I was grateful. I listened to my body, which looked a whole lot like hiking and yoga-ing when I wanted to and choosing to opt out when I didn’t want to. (This sounds a very simple idea but is a BFD for me; I am truly the queen of “should”-ing myself.) I read a book. I journaled. I made a vision board. I rested when I was tired. I ate veggies! I spent way, way less time on my phone than usual. I actively listened. I was generous with my time and attention. I took photographs. I let my freak flag fly high and was my whole, quirky, playful self. I ate dessert without letting my inner critic make me feel bad about it. I chose not to work because, really, I deserved my vacation, god damnit!

Moment after moment after moment I chose to do things that replenish me, that bring me joy and that make me feel whole again. It felt a bit strange at first, it almost felt wrong, but then I just started to feel like I was home.

All of this was made possible because of the space that Jacki, Mary Beth, and the rest of the women on the trip were holding for me. The space we held for each other. No topic was off limits—I mean seriously, nothing. We talked bushes, balls, braces and anything and everything in between. (And when you’re talking all those aforementioned Bs, you can help but seriously bond with whomever you’re chatting with. Try it sometime, you’ll see.) There was no judgement. We were all open and honest. We were all vulnerable. We listened. We laughed. We cried. Okay, well I didn’t cry but I almost did, which is basically crying for my emotionally constipated self. We went through all of the emotions and yes, I mean all of them.

And now that I’m on the plane, letting the glory of the weekend in Ojai marinate, I’m inspired. When I look at all the things I did or didn’t do, and who I gave myself permission to be this past weekend, I was my best self. And really, it was effortless. I didn’t feel like a poser or an imposter at any point. I didn’t should myself. There was no struggle. I was at peace with my mind and with my body. I allowed myself to simply be, rather than do, and that was so fucking huge for me. Like, monumental, you guys.

This weekend, I learned what my best self looks like; before this I really couldn’t have told you. And to be clear, “best self” is not one size fits all. What my best self looks like is different than anyone else’s and that’s why it’s special as hell. On that same note, I had the oh-so-necessary lightbulb moment when I realized that, gasp, when I take care of myself, well shit, that’s when I I operate as my best self. Who’d have thought, right?!

I don’t have any advice to give you and, besides, who would I be to tell you what to do? But I would like to say this: I hope that you too find your humans and, in doing so, your best self. That you find people who hold space for you to be your whole self and to love you unconditionally. People who listen to you, call you out on your shit when you’re acting crazy, and who will ask you “how you really feel about that”.  People who will tell it to you like it fucking is. People who remind you to let your freak flag go wild in the wild and who make you laugh until you might wet yourself. People who feel like coming home. People who are in your corner and who are there to cheer you on every step of the way. People who believe in you and can see your potential even when you can’t. People who inspire you to be the very best version of yourself, whatever that looks like.

PSA: for all of my special humans who were not on this retreat but are all of the aforementioned  to me, and I know you know who you are, this was a love letter for you too. I didn’t forget about you. Love you bunches.

see ya later 2017

^ Ignoring grammatical errors, misspellings and missing punctuation marks, someone on the internet nailed it again. I couldn't describe my current situation with any more precision than the above.

Semi-annually, I start to feel uncertain and ungrounded. It's those days leading up to and following a birthday, and those final few days before another year is officially in the books.

What do I have to show for the past 365 days? What am I doing with my life? Why am I still single? Why did I ever move away from the mountains? What am I going to have for dinner?

Oh, 2017. It was nowhere near as bad as the year I got braces, or as exciting as the year I got them off. And it doesn't compare to the year I spent living out in Aspen, but looking back it sure as hell tops the year my parents got divorced (it's only awkward if you make it). It definitely wasn't the best, most exciting, or wild and crazy year of my life, but it also wasn't the absolute fucking worst - which I can really, truly appreciate.

Originally I let myself slip into a place where I used previous years and other people's lives as a way to measure how "successful" my year was or wasn't, and I came up short. The comparison game is the pits, man. The pits!

Here's my original list:

I didn't get engaged (sorry Mom and Dad, you're going to be waiting awhile for that one) as that requires being in a relationship in the first place. I also did not purchase a house. I didn't move across the country. I didn't travel around the world. I didn't make any major career changes. I did not lose the 10 pounds I've been planning on for quite some time now. I didn't volunteer.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. I mean, come on now. Could that list be any more fucking depressing? Clearly, it's a list of things that I didn't do. Most of these things aren't even what I want for myself at this point in my life or ever. 

During the years after graduating college, I went through one big life-changing event after the other. Like really, I couldn't keep up with myself most of the time. But this year, in terms of big, monumental shifts, there weren't many. And so that's when the comparison kicked in and I started to look through the lens of less than and not enough, rather than being grateful or allowing myself to be content with what I chose for myself this year.

After I came to that realization, I turned the page and started a new list. It looked a went like this:

Although I did manage to kill all of my house plants (they're succulents...I'll let that one sink in for a moment...), my dog is still alive, so I'll still consider that a W. I had so much fun, seriously so much, teaching yoga. I traveled out west a handful of times. I assisted my mentor at a Wanderlust Yoga Festival. I started to build and grow my photography business. I played with my adorable, smart, spunky little nephew a whole lot and celebrated his second birthday. I spent time with family. I met people who forever changed my life and the way I see the world. I took on a dream (part-time) role with the badass brand Folk Rebellion. I was happy.

Okay, so, it really was an incredible year. I can see that now.

I am constantly having to remind myself that it's not only the big, holy-shit moments that make up a happy life. No. Most of what makes up a life well-lived are all the small, seemingly simple moments and every day pleasures. Dinner with the family. Snail mail from friends across the country. Getting to know someone. Like really, really getting to know them. Random acts of kindness from someone unexpected. Hitting the jackpot on Bejeweled Blitz and winning a million coins. (That actually happened and I was ecstatic.)

It's all about the attitude of gratitude, baby. That and calling myself out when I'm using comparison as a way to measure my worth and my accomplishments. F that.

With all that said, cheers to yet another year in the books.

2018, let's do the damn thang.

tattoos, timing, & trust

When I was 18 (or 19? Either way, too young to get something inked onto my body for all eternity, I’ve realized now that I’m so much wiser and older…) I got a tattoo on my right shoulder that reads, “We may encounter many defeats but we must not be defeated.” I loved the heck out of that tattoo—at least for a few years. While it doesn’t quite resonate with me the way it did when first got it, it’s still extremely applicable to my life and a constant reminder of my own resilience and conscious ability (and will) to recover time and time again after I’ve encountered hardship and disappointment.

Fast forward a bit.

In 2012 when I decided to get certified to teach Yoga Sculpt through CorePower Yoga (CPY), I was stoked. Oh, so freaking stoked. Full disclosure here, there was definitely a ‘cool factor’ influence that played a part (larger than I care to admit) in my decision. Yep, I said it. I was young, a little bit vain, and the glory of one day being a teacher at one of the most well-known yoga studios in the country was extremely appealing.

After I got certified, I did all of the things that CPY requires of teachers before they can begin teaching at CorePower, but I never made it past the audition phase. I auditioned twice, and each time I was sent a letter with feedback for improvement and, in short, rejected. I was mad. But really, the anger was just a not-so-clever way of disguising how sad and racked with disappointment I was. I was humiliated, so after my second go I decided to call it quits. Just like that. So much for the tattoo on my shoulder, am I right? When talking about it over the past years, I've lied to countless people or omitted the truth because I was too fearful of facing my shame.

Fast forward 3 years to the spring of 2016. I had just completed my 200-hour Power Teacher Training (through the same studio) and after successfully landed a spot teaching beginner-level classes at CPY. I was elated. Shortly thereafter, I was asked to audition to teach Yoga Sculpt – which I had sworn I’d never do after two ego-crushing rejections. With some convincing, I somewhat begrudgingly said yes—my aim to please often overshadows what I want for myself.

At first, I hated it. Oh my gosh, it felt like such a chore. I was self-conscious and constantly worrying about what people were thinking. Do people like my music? Can they see my double chin? Is my class hard enough? Are they bored with me? Can they hear me? Is the music too loud? Too quiet?

My preoccupation was less about the experience I was creating for my students and more what they thought about me and my offerings. Me, me, me. Without even realizing it, I was being a total fucking narcissist.

Fast forward again, this time just over a year to the present day, July 2017.

I am still teaching both vinyasa and sculpt classes, although at a different studio than where I first started to teach. I can now say with complete candor and heart that I love to teach—yes, even sculpt. There was never a switch that flipped, it just gradually came to be. Although I can’t pinpoint exactly what changed, during the year-long period from when I started teaching to now, I carved out a lot of time for reflection and put in serious work regarding my own personal development that has contributed to, in my own humble opinion, what feels like leaps and bounds of growth both spiritually and mentally.

The difference? First and foremost: timing. Timing is everything—I cannot stress that enough. When I first auditioned for CorePower, I took those initial rounds of feedback personally (which of course, they were not) and even more in the spirit of self-harming and stunting my own growth, I looked at them as ‘nos’ that metastasized into “not-evers’. I shut down entirely.

If I knew then what I know now (ha), I would have realized that those ‘not evers’ were ‘not nows’. I wasn’t ready—I can see that in hindsight. But rather than listening to the feedback that I was receiving, I threw up walls and with my tail between my legs, I quit. I was too proud, too stubborn, too ashamed to put in the necessary work to become a good teacher. I took the easy way out and accepted defeat rather than working for what I wanted.

Another big difference is that, ego and ulterior motives aside, in those years after I first auditioned I fell in love with my practice. I spent a lot of time on my mat and I learned a whole lot about my mind, my breath, and my body. The love that was cultivated there was as real is it gets. Like, feels-like-it’s-almost-tangible, rosy-cheeks, don’t-want-to-go-to-sleep-at-night kind of love. And when I went through my 200-hour training, it only intensified, expanded and transformed that love into a passion for teaching.

Today, I teach because I love and believe in, with my entire being, what I am teaching. And from that love and faith in what I do, I am open-minded, curious, and determined when it comes to creating classes that will best serve my students. I read books. I take classes to learn from other teachers. I constantly create new sequences. I watch YouTube videos and I spend a lot of time on Pinterest. Rather than a focusing on myself, my full, undivided attention is reserved for my students when I step through the doors of the studio. My motives for teaching started off as self-serving and, somewhere along the way, transformed into what I consider an act of service. I am proud—and happy—as hell to be able to say that I have the privilege of teaching yoga and that it’s simply because I love it; it fills my life with a sense of purpose and sheer joy to be able to share something with others that I have such a profound love for and that had such a profound impact on my life. I am grateful every damn day.

What I’ve taken away from these experiences thus far is this: Trust the timing of my life. A no is only a no if that’s what I decide. I must remain open to the possibility that maybe, despite how much I want something or how hard I have worked, what I think is best, what is right, what is due, might just not ready to come to fruition quite yet. Patience, grasshopper. At the same time, never give up on something that excites me, motivates me, and makes me feel whole. Stay curious, ask questions, be a student of life at whatever age or stage of life I find myself in. And most importantly, figure out what makes me come alive, that fires up the inner-nerd in me, and pursue the hell out of it, no matter how many speed bumps or ‘dead ends’ I encounter along the way. Oh, and if I decide to get another tattoo, I will make sure I'm going to want it in 10, 20, 40+ years. They're really permanent.

We may encounter many defeats, but we must never, ever be defeated.

quarter-centuries, gratitude switches, & clarity

25. Welp, that one snuck up on me real quick. As of today, I have 25 trips around the sun under my belt and can now rent a car without tacking on the underage fee...oh boy, what a time to be alive.

I feel old. I know, I know. Many of you will completely agree with me and then many of you are probably thinking 'fuck you', or something along those lines. At the same time, though, I also feel young--at least in the sense that most of the time I have no idea what I'm doing. Or at least that's how I feel.

I'll be honest, I was dreading 25. I went through a quarter-life crisis of sorts during the months leading up to my birthday. When I looked at the goals I had set and the visions I had crafted in those first few years after graduating college, the life I have now looks nothing like I imagined. I had this constant, nagging feeling of being behind in life. I felt lost. I used old, out-dated metrics as well as the accomplishments, goals, and visions of other people as benchmarks to measure my quality of life and the grandeur of my successes--or failures for that matter.

This was wrong for so, so many reasons, but mostly because my vision and goals haven't been updated since my last birthday, maybe even since before that. Life moves fast and the only constant is change, which means V&Gs only truly work if they, and my own mindset and expectations, are fluid fluid and adaptable.

Another big oopsie was that I was comparing myself to others, and I can't think of any truer adage than 'comparison is the root of all unhappiness'. Damn. Friggen. Straight. I must remind myself of this on the regular. I'm talking every single day - if not down to the minute. I will always feel a sense of scarcity when comparing myself to someone else simply because we are on entirely different paths and timelines.

My first conscious decision to help myself out of my self-proclaimed crisis was to, essentially, count my blessings. I always make a shift to return to a grateful, appreciative state of mind as a reset. This part was extremely easy because I was feeeeeling the love from friends and family all over the world. To anyone who reached out in any way, shape or form, or carved out time for me in your busy schedule, thank you, thank you, thank you. I fucking love you. You made my birthday so, so special.

After taking time to be grateful for all the incredible humans in my life, I moved on to acknowledge and appreciate all of the incredible experiences and opportunities that have come my way through equal amounts of arduous work and complete luck.

All of the sudden, 25 started to feel a lot more like clarity, rather than utter chaos and confusion. Truly, just like that. Let's call this the 'gratitude switch', if you will, and once that switch was flipped I swear to you, all the things (seriously, all the things) I had been pondering and manifesting started to fall into place. I know it might seem like I use the M word all willy nilly, but I truly think it felt like magic.

The one piece of of the puzzle that made everything else come together? I officially (with the support and encouragement of my people) set my mind on a decision I have been debating the past several months: I am going back to school to become a teacher. I want to teach English and eventually, I want to teach some sort of creative writing elective. There, I said it. I have thrown it out into the universe and am patiently waiting to see what comes back my way. I have not made any decisions or done one single ounce of planning as I am not ready or wanting to embark on this journey just yet, but it has all been set into motion. All I know is that my heart does a back flip every time I envision myself being able to share yet another passion of mine, writing and storytelling, with others. The last time I felt this kind of spine-tingling excitement, determination, and sense of purpose was when I decided to become a yoga teacher. Stay tuned.

25, let's see what you've got. I'm so fucking ready.

fuck perfect

I used to believe in perfect. In perfect dates, blog posts, relationships, days and even lives. And more than just believe, I used to strive for perfect. Perfect was a way I used to measure my productivity, my worth, my self-esteem. The truth I let myself believe was that if I said exactly the right thing (or refrained from saying the exact wrong thing), behaved in a certain way, or if I produced the most extraordinary results at work, that I would be, or at least give the illusion of being, perfect. Anything less than that was simply not enough.

Yeah, nope.

I was in a constant state of disappointment not only from letting myself down but by being let down by others because of my high, unrealistic expectations. I was drowning in scarcity. I was, in short, freaking miserable.

With a mix of time (years and years), wise words from wise women, diving way-deep into curiosity and self-development, and a lovingly cultivated practice of self-awareness, I’ve come to the realization that perfect is an illusion. It’s not real and it prevents me from being real. Oh, how I yearn to be real down to the bone. I mean, can I see a show of hands of who wants to be real AF? Oh, everyone? I can just hear all the “me toos”.

I also uncovered that my desire for perfection was rooted in my fears, insecurities, and doubts I held, and still hold, about myself. It was all about covering up the cracks where my imperfections were showing. I tried so, so hard to transform imperfections into perfections rather than getting curious and asking the oh-so-necessary whys, or doing the work of flipping the script to take back my personal power. 

Although being real quite frankly scares the yoga pants right off my bottom, it excites me even more. Just saying the word out loud ignites a spark throughout my entire being and it feels, just about tastes, like freedom. 

And let’s be honest, real people are simply the best. I’m drawn to them like a magnet. They’re those humans from whom I borrow endless amounts of inspiration—the people who are so unabashed and uninhibited in being wholly, completely themselves that others around them can’t help but to try and do the same. Realness is seriously contagious, you guys.

Abandoning perfection is not like flipping a switch. At least for me, it isn’t. It’s more of a practice—something that I must hold myself accountable for and work for every moment of every day. Because it’s a practice, that means there are times when I fail. In all honesty, I fail often. But rather than letting my inner-critic (more like inner-asshole) take the wheel and shame me into a corner of fear and insecurity, I lean in. I listen. I take notes. Once I’ve learned what I need to I pull on my courage pants, take a big, juicy breath, and I allow myself the space to move forward, imperfectly.

I am imperfect. You are imperfect. We are all imperfect. And that’s what makes us so damn beautiful and human. Let’s all say it together, you guys: F*ck perfect.

Original post found on the Rock Your Bliss blog.

real

Real.
Oh, you guys. This seemingly simple 4-letter word can really throw me for a loop. It’s one of my favorite words, but also one of the most terrifying for me. Real means no bullshit, no filter, no nonsense. It’s all about truth, authenticity, and the courage to show up and be seen for exactly who we are while saying exactly what we think and feel. This makes me knees shake out of both excitement and fear.

We’ve all met those extraordinary humans who embody real—they radiate it. You know that when they speak, it’s their truth, and they’re fiercely unapologetic about it. But on the other hand, if they speak and it’s not aligned with their core values – they’re brave enough to admit it, take a step back, reflect, and put in the work to get back to their true north. They make it look easy and maybe for them, it is. But if you’re like me, it takes a lot more effort; it’s a conscious, every-minute-of-every-day kind of practice.

Me? I’m one of those people who, since I can remember, have always thought, “But what will they think?” before I say, do, and even think something. This makes it extremely difficult, if not impossible, to be myself when I’m always filtering and editing my every action; it doesn’t leave room for cultivating real connection. I’m always worrying about being all too much or not enough for others. Too loud, to passive. Too excited, too apathetic. Too serious, or too quirky. And when you’re playing the game, there’s no way to win except to be real, regardless of what that may look like to someone else.

But then there are those times that I’m free. I recognize that I’ll always be too much or too little for some people, but those who truly matter to me will love me unconditionally for all parts of me, the good, the bad, and everything in between. When I’m in this space, I operate uninhibited and devoid of worries about what someone else might say or think, and it feels so damn good. I’m present to the moment unfolding before me and I have the confidence to be playful, silly, vulnerable, and brave all while speaking my truth. I’m 100% me. I’m real.

The secret? A whole lot of self-love and keeping this mantra at the forefront of my thoughts:

“You will always be too much of something for someone: too big, too loud, too soft, too edgy. If you round out your edges, you’ll lose your edge. Apologize for mistakes. Apologize for unintentionally hurting someone – profusely. But don’t apologize for being who you are.” – Danielle LaPorte

To hold myself accountable, I make a conscious, daily effort to pause and reflect whenever I catch myself thinking “But what will they think?” This means taking a huge step back, pulling out my notebook and putting pen to paper. This helps me to name what it is I’m feeling while getting to the root of the insecurity, and then coming to a resolution that can bring me back to myself.

We will always be too much or too little for some people. Those people? They’re not our people.

With love, light, and big-belly-laughter always,
Jenna.

Original post found on the Tiny Devotions blog.

grounding with soul values

Lately, I have been ungrounded and lacking clarity in almost every area of my life. Maybe it was the latest full moon or because we’re stuck in the awkward limbo between seasons. It also might be that I’m turning 25 this summer and I’m due for my quarter-life crisis, or that I haven’t had my vision and goals top-of-mind these past few months. Most likely, it’s a mix of all the above.

Some days, I know exactly what I want—others, not so much. For me, it’s all too easy to go with the “out of sight, out of mind” adage when I’m not holding myself accountable to the vision I have so lovingly crafted – and continue to grow and nurture – for my life. In this space, I say yes to things I’d truly like to say no to. I procrastinate. I take short cuts and the easy route whenever possible. I complain and I compare. I take a passive stance on my life when I should be in the driver’s seat.

Through years of vision and goals work at lululemon and coaching sessions with Jacki Carr and Mary Beth LaRue (co-founders of Rock Your Bliss), I’ve picked up a clarity ritual to help me when I’m feeling lost, confused, un-grounded, unsure…you get the point.

I flip to a brand-spankin’-new page in my journal, grab my go-to purple PaperMate FLAIR pen, and I write down my soul values at the top: passion, creativity, curiosity, connection, and nature. These values are my compass, if you will, that will keep me heading toward my true north—always.

Then, I draw a big circle in the middle of the page. On the outside of the circle, I write all the things I don’t want in my life at that exact moment—i.e. hustling, busyness, saying yes to things I should say no to, etc.

Next, it’s time for the fun stuff. On the inside of the circle, I cultivate a thoughtful, loving list of things that I want to fill my life with—the HELL yes’s, like spending time unplugged outdoors, keeping up a daily yoga practice, and exploring way more.

Once I’m finished, I take a few minutes to reread my sparkly, fresh roadmap and let it all marinate. And just like that, BAM, clarity and grounding. It’s really that simple.

And the best apart about this ritual is that it is as fluid as I allow it to be. As I evolve, it will evolve with me as I, my circumstances, and my wants and needs change. Every time I feel like there’s a shift happening in my life, I carve out time for this exercise. Heck, when I want to create change I do it. Rather than letting it feel rigid and like I have to stick to whatever I’ve jotted down on paper, I look at is an exciting opportunity to create and live in possibility. Knowing exactly what I want and what I don’t want in my life allows me to stay focused, be creative, passionate, and authentic in all areas of my life, and to live my life on purpose.

I’d love to know – what are your soul values? And if you’ve taken the time to do this exercise, what the things you don’t want in your life right now and the things that you want to say hell yes to?

Original post found the Tiny Devotions blog.

building blocks & self-love

Before I get started, I’d like to say that no, I have not yet read Love Warrior by Glennon Melton Doyle, but it’s at the very top of my list and that the inspiration behind this post is from some major love bombs dropped by GMD on Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic podcast on "starting before you’re ready". If you haven’t listened to this podcast, get after it. I mean it.

After trying and failing almost too many times to count, I’ve slowly (so very, painfully slowly) stumbled upon the realization that self-love must come first, always. I never wanted to believe the adage that one must love his or herself before he or she can love others, but shit, you guys. It’s true.

In an attempt at making sense of my new life-altering realization, I’ve come to look at the many layers of my life – wants, needs, desires, dreams, all of it – as building blocks. The very first one, the foundation for it all? You guessed it: self-love.

Let me rewind for a minute to provide you with some more context before we move forward…

Las week, I was doing homework for 7 Weeks to Bliss (an offering that touches on values, vision & goals, and all that juicy stuff) and I got stuck on my journal entry for our week 3 content: What are my 10 greatest strengths? Immediately the snarky, sassy voice inside my head listed off eating copious amounts of pizza, slaying series on Netflix, and scaring off boys that I think are cute and might want to date. And then, I completely shut down. Rather than feeling inspired and compelled to dig into the work like I had in the previous weeks, I closed my notebook and completely switched gears. I didn’t even attempt to answer the question because in all honesty, nothing came to mind right away and I hate talking about myself in the context of what I’m good at or what I have to offer. It makes my skin c-r-a-w-l.

When I revisited the question again last night, rather than using humor as way to deflect I decided to attack the question from a place of inquiry. I started with why. Why was I feeling resistant to answering such a seemingly simple question? Which then turned into: why am I so much more comfortable giving love than receiving it? Which led to a major “holy-fucking-shit” moment.

True, sustainable self-love is an unknown for me, and I often find the unknown scary. I’ve never truly loved myself or treated myself with the same kindness, compassion, and understanding as I do with others. When it comes to myself, I’m a total bitch. I’m all about conditional love and, even worse, tough love. I’m never – literally never – satisfied with anything I do or create. I am guilty of being my own toughest critic. I hustle for my own self approval, which is fucking exhausting. It’s my way of keeping myself working harder and striving to be the best version of myself. I admire humility in others and am terrified of being labeled as self-involved or vain, that gnarly “what will people think?” is always lingering (unwanted) at the back of my mind.

Now fast forward back to today when I was listening to the podcast featuring GMD. She said all the things, many that I will never forget, but the biggest thing that stuck with me was this:

“When you try to love someone, you have to unlearn so much. And start over.”

Lightbulb.

Now maybe this doesn’t strike a chord with you in the way it did with me because you don’t know the context in which she said it (unless you’ve also listened to the episode), but noodle it. Let it marinate and I’ll keep blabbing on.

Although she was referring to the love between two people and the unlearning of gender norms and constructs of society, which I agree with whole heartedly, I immediately thought about my homework of answering the question of What are my 10 greatest strengths? And my whole tough love thing I have going on.

I need to unlearn.

I need to unlearn the destructive stories that I tell myself about myself: if I lose the weight then I'll be desirable; I’m too much for this person or not enough for this person; I’m being unrealistic and childish to pursue the things that make me feel alive; I will never receive the love I so desire, and the list goes on, and on, and freaking on.

I need to unlearn the habits that I fall back on when I feel vulnerable and insecure, like harmful, self-deprecating humor and distracting myself by becoming so busy I run myself right into the ground.

I need to unlearn the dos and don’ts I follow (consciously or subconsciously) that keep me in my neat little box: being the “cool girl”; saying or doing something because it feels like the nice or right thing to do; not speaking my mind; people pleasing…you guessed it, this list goes on and on as well.

I need to unlearn to heal and move forward so I can then begin the process of learning how to truly love myself. And someday, when I'm ready, I can wholeheartedly love someone else again.

As much as I'd like to shed some light on how to go about doing this unlearning and diving into the process of softening into self-love, I don't have the answers. And usually that drives me just plain nuts because I like to have all the answers all the time, but this post will not have a tiny bow tied on top of it. Strangely, I'm OK with that. I am currently wading through the muddy waters to figure out where to start and what I need to do to get me to where I so badly want to be and I am practicing patience with myself. Look at me go! I think I'm already taking baby steps in the right direction, eh?

Until next time, friends.

To be continued...

trust the process

Holy treadmill minutes, you guys. I am not patient—it wouldn’t even make the top 100 hits for words to describe me. I’m one of those people who thrive on instant gratification. Amazon Prime can get me toilet paper in 2 hours? Uh, no brainer. You’re telling me it takes 45 minutes—once the oven is preheated—to make this frozen meal? Yeah, no, I’m going to take my chances with 3 microwave minutes (which are almost as bad as treadmill minutes) thank you very much.

Being impatient is never a good thing, but it really seems to love to table top me and tie my shoe laces together when it comes to my work life. In May, I will be able to say that I have been teaching for one year. I freaking love to teach yoga, you guys. I am a straight-up yoga nerd – I have zero chill when it comes to my love for yoga. If you follow me on any type of social media, I know you know what I’m talkin’ about. Sorry, not sorry.

And even though I’ve only been teaching a year, I feel like I should be better. I feel like I should know more. I have this expectation that I should have the skill, finesse, experience, etc. of “the big kids” (teachers who have been teaching for 3, 4, 7, 10+ years). A lot of this pressure is due to social media. I spend hours each week trolling and watching and creeping on yoga teachers and yogis from every corner of the world, and in doing so I can’t help but compare, and I almost always come up short. I see the crazy things that people are doing or teaching, and I start to build up my list of “shoulds”, regardless of if it’s what I truly want or what I have the capacity to do. This leads to a constant lingering feeling of “not enough” and that I am behind in my achievements and abilities. A reminder, more for myself than anyone else: I’ve only been teaching for one year. ONE YEAR.

I’m wildly impatient, but that doesn’t mean that I’m scared to put in the work it takes to get where I want to go. You guys, I put so much time into my yoga classes. I spend hours and hours each week reading yoga books, putting together sequences, creating playlists, coming up with themes, and practicing so I can then in turn improve my teaching. This is the work that I love with everything I’ve got, you know? But so often, I still am self-conscious about my offerings. I still worry that people won’t like what I’ve created for them, or that it won’t measure up to their expectations. And when I see what other people have or are doing and I fall into a headspace where I’m comparing and contrasting, it’s hard to look at what I have, what I’m doing, and say, “Yeah, not good enough. Keep trying. Maybe you’ll get there, maybe you won’t.”

I’m currently two weeks into a program called 7 Weeks to Bliss, led by Jacki Carr and Mary Beth LaRue, with 60+ extraordinarily inspiring, curious, passionate women. One woman was brave enough to share in our Facebook group what she’s going through in regards to the work that we have embarked on in this 7-week journey. The words she wrote that stuck with me, and sequentially inspired this post, were that she is trying to trust the process and be patient. So simple, yet so profound. YES. So much freakin’ yes. I have to practice patience and be gentle with myself, or else I will continue to drive myself right off my rocker. Another amazing human who I adore and originally met through a yoga mentorship program with Mary Beth Larue, who is also participating in the program, told me that I am right where I need to be and while I’m here, enjoy the ebbs and flows. Oh, my heart! I’m such a cheeseball, but it’s seriously about to explode. Sidebar: I am so grateful for the endless love and support from the people I am lucky to have in my life. Anyways, I digress.

To recap my learnings through all of this I’ll break it down into bullet points in the form of a note to self. (The Type-A side of me just got goosebumps.)

• Trust the freaking process, man. It wouldn’t kill you to practice some patience every damn day—and by that, I mean minute-to-minute.
• Similarly, enjoy the process. Stop taking yourself so damn seriously and lighten up.
• Keep doing what you’re doing. It’s working, even if you don’t have everything you want right when you want it. Reminder: the world does not work like that. Chill out.
• Be gentle with yourself. Most importantly, be kind to yourself. You’re doing the best that you can.
• Spend less time worrying about what other people are doing and what people might think, and focus on yourself. Comparison is the root of all happiness. Boom.

Anybody else struggle with trusting the process and being patient – especially with themselves? Let’s hear it. I’d love to jam with you! I’m all ears.

busy part I

Oh, sweet baby Jesus, am I le tired. And in all honesty, I didn’t even realize how empty my tank was until my mom asked me (partly joking, I think…maybe?) if I was doing drugs. I have some serious bags camping out under my eyes right now that no amount of concealer (is that what it’s called?) can make disappear. To set the record straight, I am not doing drugs, at least in the conventional sense—just thought I’d clarify.

No, my drug is something called being ‘busy.’ GOD, I hate that word. But I throw it around like confetti, and each time it comes out of my mouth—like word vomit (does anyone else get a flash of Lindsay Lohan as Cady Heron when they say or hear that phrase or is it just me?)—I just want to five-star myself across the face. And do you know who busy’s sidekick is? Should. A word I despise even more. I should do this… I should say that… I just rolled my eyes typing that.

Somewhere along my journey, I got attached to the idea of busy as being a prize or trophy to be won. A sign of productivity, of status, of hard work. For so long, I wore the word busy as armor, as a way of saying, “Yeah, I work my ass off. I’m doing the things. I’m going to the places.”

I’ve fallen into this terrible habit using busy as a way of measuring my worth both at work and the other arenas in my life. If I’m not busy, I’m behind. If I’m not busy, I’m unproductive. If I’m not busy, I’m doing something wrong. I should do a, b, and c because x, y, and z. Should. Should. Should. Busy is a choice—it’s a compilation of things we have said yes to, whether we wanted to or we did it out of obligation. It should never be used as an excuse, scapegoat, or status, in my opinion.

And I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that you, as well as I do, know how fucking exhausting it is to be busy all the time. It’s unsustainable, hell, it’s not possible.

This is what busy, with a whopping side of should, actually looks like for me: a packed planner (almost down to the minute sometimes, I swear), saying yes when I really mean no, way less sleep than I need to be available for human consumption, cancelling plans and flaking last minute, feeling anxious, guilty, run-down and resentful (mostly at myself for over-committing), etc. etc.

Basically, I’m a horrible human being when I self-proclaim myself as busy and should myself. I’m all the above things, and I am not living out of my core values—those things that make up my heart and soul, my true self. And that is a gnarly realization to have, you guys. Sometimes, we need that “ah-ha” moment to snap us out of our present reality, however unrealistic it may be, and bring us back down to earth. For me, it was my own dear mother asking if I was doing drugs. Sigh.

So, consider this my sacred pause. My time to take a magnifying glass to my life to figure out what’s adding value and what isn’t, and consequently what can stay and what will get the boot. I’m not sure exactly what this looks like for my life, but I love me some action-ables to hold myself accountable and to get me started on the work. So, over the next few weeks as I reflect and re-evaluate, I commit to these three things:

1. I banish the words “busy” and “should” from my vocabulary. Going forward I will refer to these words as “the-words-that-shall-not-be-named”. If you witness me saying either of these words, here’s your green light to throw a proverbial (emphasis on proverbial) slap across the face.

2. I prioritize rest.

3. I exercise my “hell yes” and my no. Don’t take it personally if I tell you no, not now, or later. It’s not personal, it’s just me respecting my own boundaries.

Stay tuned for Busy Part II, comin’ atcha in a couple weeks.

oh, my raging ego

This morning, I dragged my sleepy ass out of bed at 5:15am to get to a 6am yoga class. For the record, this almost never happens for me. I’m practically dating my snooze button these days, and I am a sucker for basking in the warmth and comfort of my covers for as long as I can without turning up late for work. Also, I am the exact opposite of a morning person. If you happen to catch me before 8am, well, I’m sorry in advance.

As I do before every class, I got to the studio a solid fifteen minutes prior to snag a VIP parking spot, claim my go-to space in the studio, and stretch it out. I enjoy my pre-class ritual almost as much as I enjoy class itself. Yes, I’m a total yoga nerd, I am already aware.

So, picture this: I’m laying on my mat blissed out in the juiciest shoulder stretch there ever was and totally getting into the zone when all of the sudden a woman’s voice breaks through my meditative state to ask, “Hey, can you scoot over? My friend is going to put her mat next to mine, too.”

“Umm, yeah!” I said as I glanced over at her mat, which was placed a good six inches away from my own. In most cases, I have no problem moving my mat to make space for another person. I don’t how to say this without sounding like a complete asshole, but I was pretty annoyed that she A. interrupted me mid-stretch and B. asked me to move my mat when there was more than enough space as it was. In a full class, it’s not uncommon to have mats practically on top of each other. (Remember, I’m n-o-t a morning person.)

So I scooted my mat a few inches to the left, practically touching my neighbor’s mat – who I came to class with – and resumed my juicy shoulder stretch.

And then said yogi who had just asked me to move my mat laid her phone down on the floor and started whispering to her friend; they continued chatting for the next several minutes. Oh, my raging ego. Uhhh helllllll no, I thought to myself as my blood started to boil – and not because it was pushing 95 degrees in the room. She has the nerve to interrupt me mid-stretch to ask me if I can move my mat over when there’s plenty of space, she has her phone in class (my biggest pet-peeve as a teacher and practitioner) and she’s going to sit here talking to her friend? Nope. Not today, lady.

So what do I do? Take a nice, deep, yogic breath and proceed to do absolutely nothing at all. #KeepMinnesotaPassiveAggressive (I’m working on it though, promise).

Throughout class, all I can think about is how this chick wronged me. How dare she? And why does she think it’s OK to bring her phone into the classroom? I threw so many sneaky side eyes, you guys, and trust me I am not proud of it. Even as I was silently harboring mean-spirited thoughts towards this woman I had never met, I knew it was wrong. I knew my ego had taken the driver’s seat and that these thoughts weren’t truly who I am, but I continued to let it happen because in that moment, it was easier to shift blame and let my ego inflate to the size of the sun than it was to practice compassion, patience, kindness, and understanding.

As much as I tried to focus on my breath, I kept coming back to our little run-in before class. By the time we were laying belly-up in savasana, I realized that I had spent the last 60 minutes wasting my energy on a silly, unimportant incident rather than enjoying my sacred “me time”. I managed to make something that had nothing to do with me, well, all about me. Damnit, Jenna. It wasn’t personal until I made it that way.

As I took in the last hour of the morning, I remembered an idea that has stuck with me since I first read it from one of Brene Brown’s books: we’re all trying to do the best we can. I am a die-hard believer in this statement when I can check my ego at the door. God, I hate being petty. But sometimes my ego gets the best of me, you know? I’m only human, after all.

And then, I started to soften. I physically felt a release of tension that had been building up in my body. First, I (silently) forgave myself for reacting rather than thinking it through and giving her the benefit of the doubt, and then I (also silently) forgave/apologized to the yogi who was actually innocent all along. Maybe she didn’t know that she shouldn’t have had her phone in class or that it’s respectful to sit in quiet before class. Maybe she did. It really doesn’t matter. Regardless, she was doing the best that she could.

Man, I hope that even when I’m not being the best version of myself that others do me a solid by being patient with me and acting out of compassion. I mean hello, the golden rule? Treat others how you’d like to be treated. Sometimes I forget that this applies not only to the actions we take and the words that we speak, but our thoughts as well. I was not giving off good vibes this morning, that’s for sure.

So, I re-learned two lessons today on my mat. For one, we’re all doing the best that we can at any given time. Period. No ifs, ands, or buts. Also, that wresting with my ego is a daily – more like a moment by moment – practice. If I can realize when I’m acting from a place of ego, hit the pause button, reflect and change course, then I can save myself from a whole lot of self-inflicted, unnecessary and unproductive thinking. Oh, what a morning. Thoughts? Have you guys found yourselves in similar situations, or is it entirely just me?

If you stuck around for the ending, thanks for reading. Heart you. I really, really mean it.

Namaste, bitches.

the art of non-attachment

One thing I find I struggle with almost daily is letting go of people who (or opportunities that) are not meant for me. You know what I mean? Knowing logically in my head that it’s not a good fit, but there’s a longing that arises from the core of my bones and envelopes my entire body, whispering, “what if?” Hope can often be beautiful, but just as often heart-wrenching.

I always know when I deserve better, I’m not blinded. When I’m not being treated with the utmost respect, or my time and attention are being taken for granted, I notice. But sometimes I feel seen, and heard, and loved the way I want to be loved, and those sometimes – no matter how fleeting – can be reason enough to wait, to wish, to fantasize, and ultimately to settle.

Why is it that we settle or long for people who treat us like we’re ordinary? Why are we met with disappointment when something doesn’t work out, when a door closes, even when deep down we know we’re better off because of it?

Non-attachment is hard. There’s no black, there’s no white, it’s an entirely grey area – at least in my humble opinion, that is. When I invest my time, when I wear my heart on my sleeve, when there’s any degree of vulnerability at play, I find it nearly impossible not to be attached in some way, shape, or form.

When someone says, “Just let go,” or “Just don’t get too attached,” I think but HOW? It’s like telling someone to disarm a bomb and not giving them any instructions. Seriously. I’m asking – how? If there was a switch, I’d flip it so fast. So. Damn. Fast. But there isn’t, so I’m stuck searching for a way to deal.

Is time truly the only thing that can inspire healing? Because I’ve tried an array of different options – my go-tos being retail therapy, eating, and packing my schedule so full that I barely have enough time to sleep. But these just help on a surface level, they’re quick-fixes that don’t heal and definitely don’t bring closure.

I have some ideas on the self-healing process and learning to “let go”, if you will, but I’m not exactly sure on the steps it takes to get there. How to create true, lasting change. I think a major player in the non-attachment game is to cultivate a sense of self that isn’t linked to external factors like the approval, love, or sense of belonging we so often seek from others, but I’m not sure on how to go about doing that.

For what it’s worth, here’s what I would tell someone who came to me seeking advice on healing and acceptance:

What you seek, it’s seeking you. Trust the timing of your life, and have faith in the notion that all the love you wish to receive can and surely will be yours. Just because something doesn’t work out the way you planned, or you’re not just the right fit for someone else, it does not take away from your innate wholeness, worthiness, or enoughness. You are, without prerequisites of any kind, always all three of these things – and no one and nothing can take away from that, unless you give up the power to do so. When you find yourself facing a big, fat “no”, it could just as easily be a “not now” or a “yes” if you have patience and courage to keep putting yourself out there. But if it doesn’t evolve, it’s because it wasn’t meant to.

So, friends, I ask you: what does your process of letting go/practicing non-attachment look like? What does your healing salve consist of? What does the pep-talk you give yourself when you’re met with disappointment and unmet expectations look like? Or maybe, what is the best advice you’ve received from someone on the subject? Answer one, answer all, answer none, but I’d love to hear from you whether you send me a private message or comment below. Heart you all so much.

new year, same me

2016 was nuts, y'all. I know you know what I'm saying. All of these memes about how absolutely, incredibly, insanely wrong it went could not be more accurate, which is why they're probably so hilarious. Just like the memes themselves, I don't mean to take away from the gravity of everything that happened over the span of the last (almost) 12 months, but shit got so real that comic relief is being welcomed with wide open arms.

When December hits and January slowly starts to creep up, I'm almost always more than ready for a new year, new beginnings. I make new goals. I rework my vision for my life. I even use it as an excuse to buy new clothes. New, new, new. If it's old, it's out. If it's new, sign me up. I'm always up for a better, improved Jenna 2.0 (6.0...20.0...gasp, now 24.0) And until now, this year was no exception. 2016 will forever go down in history as The Year That Shall Not Be Named (No, I'm not a Harry Potter fanatic but I can still appreciate the reference). But now that I've actually carved out time to sit down, think about what I want to create in 2016 and how I want my life to look, I've changed my mind.

Personally, I really liked my own 2016. I was adventurous. I was brave. I took chances. I worked my butt off. I listened to my body, I listened to my heart. I pushed myself. I invested a whole lot in myself. I learned and I grew. I created. I connected. I had so much dang fun. I pursued some dreams, and I laid the foundations for others. Sure, things were different than I had envisioned them. Actually, my entire year was full of things I never planned for myself this past year. Had I made different decisions, I'd still be in New Zealand or somewhere drinking coconut milk (from an actual coconut) on the beach in Bali or who knows, really. And maybe I didn't lose those 15 pounds that I so badly want to, or I didn't save all that money that I had planned on, but that's life. You just can't do everything all the time, and I have to make peace with that. I'd rather focus on the fact that I had a seriously big year and well, a year that I'm damn proud of.

For the record, writing all of that was, to say the least, extremely challenging for me. Kind of like pulling teeth. I can't take compliments from others - if you've ever tried, you understand - let alone give praise to myself. It's hard for me to acknowledge anything good that I've done or that I've created; I suppose my inner critic is my own way of staying on track, working hard, and striving to be the best version of myself. While it can sometimes be a good thing, I've started to realize it might actually do more harm. Never being satisfied with myself as a person or my life's work, that's just friggen exhausting. Entirely depleting. The gnarly lingering feelings of "not worthy" or "never enough" are more than enough (ha ha) to drive me right off my rocker, I tell ya. Can anyone else relate?

With the encouragement of my inner critic, I always find myself pouring energy into improving myself in the areas that I lack strength in. And while I see the value in this, I see so much more value in continuing to hone and lovingly strengthen the areas I already succeed in - and a lot of this ideology has come from my supervisor at work, who is one of the most intelligent, inspiring leaders/humans I know. If I focus too much on my weaknesses, I obsess. I'm acutely aware of my shortcomings and I want so badly to improve upon them, so I'm not seen as incompetent or weak, that I forget to kindle the fire of goodness that I've got going on for me too. And as you can guess, I start to shine a whole lot less in those areas I once flourished in. And that's just unfortunate.

I've started to realize that perhaps the feelings of never enough or not worthy might always be something I struggle with. I may never conquer or overcome them, but somehow learn how to live with them or even despite of them. While I can hope and manifest the idea of overcoming never enough or not worthy, if I don't make a conscious change in how I look at myself and how I think about myself, ain't gonna happen sweetheart.

My goal: to start seeing and appreciating myself for who I am and what I create, rather than hating myself for who I wish I could be and what I wish I was capable of, which as we all know is so much harder said than done. I guess you could say I'm adopting the "choose to see the good in everything" adage, in my own way. While an important part of this is to be self-aware and to hold myself accountable, the biggest part will be focusing on putting my energy into the things I'm good at, the things that make me so happy to be alive. I want 2017 to be a continuation of my badass, seriously awesome, life-changing 2016. After all, if it's ain't broke, don't fix it. Right?

So, here's to a new year, but the same me. Another year of creating a life I'm proud of and so damn excited about, and seeing opportunities and possibility everywhere. A year of chasing dreams, making magic, and learning to love myself a little (more like a whole lot) harder.

My mantra going into the New Year and beyond: I am enough, I am worthy.

Cheers & namaste, bitches. Catch ya in 2k17.

permission to be messy

If there's one thing in life I just can't stand, it's a mess. Maybe not so much in the literal sense - if you've ever seen my room then you know what I'm sayin' - but more in the idea of something not being just right--perfect.

I hate making the wrong choices whether they're life-changing or seemingly small; do I say yes to a second date with someone that I only kind of enjoyed spending time with on the first one? Do I quit my job to travel the world and be a stay at home gypsy? Do I sleep an extra hour or do I get my ass at of bed at 5am to get to yoga? Should I eat the pizza? (Yes, always eat the pizza.)

But in all seriousness, I've started to notice that I let my fear of not being perfect dictate far too many choices in my life. And of course, it's not that I think that I'm perfect - gosh, no - and it's also not that I'm preoccupied with what others would think. Let's get real here, though, I'm human and I care what people think - I feel like that's part of our nature - but that's not the driving force behind my incessant need for perfection. It's that when I make the wrong choices which then lead to regret, heartbreak, failure, or any of those gnarly, undesirable feelings, I feel naked. Bear to the bone. Gulp...vulnerable. The big, bad V word that makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.

I somehow convince myself, despite knowing the ridiculousness of it all, that if I can seem perfect, or create something perfect, then I will be worthy, desirable, enough. And what more do we want as human beings than to feel those three things? (Why yes, I do read a lot of Brene Brown.) So, instead of telling someone how I feel about them, I don't. Rather than sharing my "big idea", I sit on it. Rather than exercising my no and respecting my own boundaries, I say yes - or vice versa.

I mean, what's more heart-wrenchingly painful than longing for someone you know will never feel the same way about you as you do for him or her? What's more embarrassing than putting out something you've lovingly crafted but no one sees the beauty in it that inspired you to create it in the first place? What's more awkward than saying something and no one says, "I feel that, too"? I'll do next to anything to avoid the feeling of a chink (or six) in my armor. Vulnerability is hard, man, but it is also extremely necessary. Can't live with it, can't live without it. Ja feel?

Por ejemplo, I never want to say exactly the wrong thing or completely, utterly fail at something I've worked so hard to succeed at, but even more so I don't want to live a life made up of fear-based decisions. No, that's not the life that's going to get me where I want to go. As Brene Brown said, when we dim the dark, we inevitably dim the light.

As I've been talking about lately, each Wednesday in November I've been participating in a conference call/yoga teacher mentorship program led by Mary Beth LaRue, a yoga guru and mentor of mine, where she drops all sorts of truth bombs all over the place. It's life-changing, you guys. And on one of our first calls, she talked about the idea of giving ourselves "permission to be messy." Pardon my French but, umm, helllllll yes. Albeit this being about teaching, this is (shocker) one of those things that you learn in the studio (figuratively, in this case) but is so damn applicable to life outside the four corners of your mat.

So, for 2017 (and the remainder of the-year-that-must-not-be-named) I'm going to work on getting my hands dirty; I'm going to give myself permission to get a little messy. I don't want the attempted numbing/avoidance of my fears and the darkness to have the power to dim the light that shines so brightly in my life. I'm going to show up and suck a whole lot more, if you know what I mean. I'm going to take chances. I'm going to push myself way out of my comfort zone. I'm going to live and breathe out of my heart space, even if it means my ego will take a few left and right hooks here and there and my heart might get smushed along the way. I want to be able to feel my life while I'm in it - the ups and the downs, the good and the bad - rather than always wondering what could have been, or playing it safe. And I have a feeling that it's going to bring so much more joy, growth, wealth (not in regards to money, although I definitely wouldn't turn that down) and prosperity to the table than I could have ever imagined.

Cheers to being messy, ya filthy animals.

the sweet spot

If there's one thing I've never been good at, it's balance. Physically, I've pretty much nailed that one - I mean I'm a yoga teacher, hellooo. (Joking. So totally joking.) But in all seriousness when it comes to life balance, I have a lot of work to put in.

I'm a balls-to-the-wall, 210%, all-or-nothing kind of girl when it comes to what I put my time, energy, and spirit into - which just so happens to be one of my best qualities and one of my most, err, challenging ones as well. When I commit to something, I want to be great at it - the best. I would even go so far as saying I get a little obsessive. This looks like working late into the night, putting in way, way over 40 hours between teaching and my big girl job, checking emails while I'm at dinner with my people, and multi-tasking like it's going to end world hunger or something.

For the record, I know when to go all in or not. If it's not something that's truly "me" or something that I care about with my whole heart, I'll take a hard pass. I'm well aware of my ability to choose this (extremely unsustainable) lifestyle - I make the active decision to give it all I've got. I just get carried away, I guess.

And when I get carried away, I don't take care of myself. I give until there's just about nothing left to give and although I'm definitely receiving and reaping the benefits of my work, I'm not leaving myself enough time to do what's good for my soul  (i.e. yoga, writing, reading, drawing, sleeping in - oh, sleeping in - eating healthy, and the list goes on). And these are the things that help me to refuel and reset - they fill my tank -  so when I don't make time for them I don't quite feel myself. This has been my struggle these past few months. Slowly, I start the descent into the grey where I'm not sure who I am, what I want, why I started, or where I'm going. Ironically, I fall to the exact opposite end of the spectrum.

When I'm constantly giving and not taking much-needed me time, I tend do the thing - you know, the thing - where albeit knowing what's best for me and what allows me to be a nice, kind, caring, proactive member of society, I do what's easy. I take short cuts, I run Netflix marathons, I eat all the worst foods, I blatantly ignore my yoga mat, I don't get enough sleep, I answer with a simple (and boring) "fine" to every question thrown my way, yada yada yada. I allow myself to choose the things that don't nourish me,  challenge me, or inspire me...like, why? WHY? Does anyone else run into this issue, or am I just the worst, laziest human being ever? I don't entirely understand myself sometimes...most of the time...

Anyways. As they say, the first step toward change is awareness - and as anyone who's still reading this knows, I can check that one off the list. Acceptance is the next step and for your/time's sake, let's just say I've got that one down too. I am the way I am, and I am OK with that. Last but not least, we've got action. I'll be extremely honest - working long hours is just the way my life has to be right now, mostly because that's the way I want it to be, so trimming my workweek down to 40 hours just ain't gonna happen. But I'm willing to compromise and rework other areas of my life to find that sweet, sacred spot of life balance. I'm not one to follow through with a long list of resolutions - at least not all at once (baby steps, people) - but I'm really keen on choosing one thing to focus on and crushing that, and then moving to the next on the list. So with y'all as my witnesses, I vow to make myself a priority. Each and every day, I am going to carve out some serious time for me, myself, and I. Here is my self love declaration:

For one hour every single day - even when I'm feeling ultra lazy and would rather be laying on the couch and eating pizza (and watching GOT reruns) - I will take one hour to do something I love, simply because I love it. Every damn day.

As I'm a huge fan of accountability, if you run into me around the lakes or we grab a bite together, ask me how I'm doing. Because lezzzz be honest, when it comes to taking care of myself I have basically zero integrity. I will easily opt out of self care for any number of different reasons - like eating pizza on the couch while watching GOT. I mean it, y'all. Hold me to it.

How do you rebalance when you're out of whack and/or how do you carve out time to take care of yourself?

there's no place like home

As I was driving up the pass, I had the biggest shit grin on my face. The windows were down, Eric Church was blasting, and I was belting my heart out as I drove west, destination Aspen.

I was uninhibited and having the best. dang. time. jamming solo in my rental Toyota 4Runner (by far the biggest car I have ever attempted to drive). The sky was a piercing blue, there wasn't a cloud in sight, and the Rocky Mountains - covered in trees sporting the most vibrant shades of green, yellow, and orange you can imagine - were all that you could see for miles.

I stopped at the Continental Divide to snap a pic (total tourist, and proud) and then quickly hopped back in my monster truck to make the descent toward A-town. If you haven't made this drive before, hitting the CD is the last big landmark before Aspen. Once you've passed it, you're on the home stretch.

All of the sudden, it hit me. Butterflies. All up in my stomach. We're talking first date, Christmas morning, I'm-about-to-do-something-super-fucking-cool-but-extremely-dangerous-and-potentially-life-threatening kind of butterflies - but also different.

These kind of butterflies were unique. Obviously, I was excited. There was also the elevation, which always messes with me at least a little. But neither of those were the reason for the party going on in my gut. This particular feeling is the one I only get when I'm heading home after I've been away for a good long while.

I've always thought of home as a singular noun; the place where you spent the better part of your childhood, and/or where your mom and pops have planted their roots. Although important, it was something I saw as fairly one-dimensional. That one place you can let your guard down, you can look like a total scrub all day every day - and although you might get endless shit for it - you know they will love you always, and where you go to retreat from the craziness, clutter, and chaos of life.

And yes, home is absolutely all of those things, but it can also be so much more.

The older I get, the more of the world I explore, the more I realize that home is extremely multi-dimensional and so very special. It's a feeling comprised of carefully collected memories, stories, lessons learned, love, loss, and everything in between. It's a state of mind. It's a place where you can simultaneously feel grounded and adventurous. It's butterflies in your belly, the warm fuzzies, and a big sigh of relief. It's knit together with people - and not exclusively the people you came into this world already connected to. People you have fatefully crossed paths with and hand-picked to be in your life. The ones who inspire you, humble you, challenge you and listen to you. Above all, these humans love you unconditionally and extraordinarily.

It doesn't have to be where you grow up, but it can be. And home is definitely not limited to one place - it can be many. After 24 years on this earth, I am lucky enough to consider two places home - Minneapolis and Aspen - and I hope to have many more places that fall into this category in my lifetime.

Through time and space, home is a beautiful, perfect mix of a feelings/places/state of minds that no matter how far you wander, no matter how many people and places you fall in love with, you keep coming back to time and time again.

100 things

While I was living in Colorado, I got the idea from a dear friend of mine to create a bucket list of sorts of 100 things I want to do in my lifetime. Well, in need of some inspiration and some motivation, I finally got around to creating that list - and let me tell you, it is a lot harder than it sounds. Trust me. Some of these things are simple, some things are a little bit more of a stretch, some things are admittedly a little weird. Spoiler alert: the vast majority of these have to do with traveling, yoga, or getting the chance to come face-to-face with furry critters. Shocker. And no, I don't expect you to go through and read each and every item. But if you're also in the need of some inspiration and motivation like I was, here ya go:

1. Become fluent in Spanish.
2. Live in the mountains (again).
3. Climb a 14er.
4. Climb every 14er in Colorado.
5. Lead a yoga retreat in the mountains.
6. Play with a red panda.
7. Play with a real panda.
8. Learn how to make sushi, and do it well.
9. Write a book.
10. Do yoga at the top of Aspen Mountain.
11. Learn how to fly fish.
12. Backpack in SE Asia.
13. Practice yoga every day for an entire month.
14. Adopt a dog.
15. Create my own job/job title.
16. Buy my own loft.
17. Take a pole dancing class.
18. Learn how to paint.
19. Take a photography class.
20. Get paid to write my first article.
21. Take my nephew on a vacation.
22. Roadtrip through Canada in a camper van.
23. Buy an Audi S4.
24. Complete my 300 hour teacher training.
25. Complete Yin yoga teacher training.
26. Live in another country.
27. Visit Croatia.
28. Go to the Olympics.
29. Drive on the autobahn in Germany.
30. Master a handstand.
31. See a concert at Red Rocks.
32. Take a yoga class at Red Rocks.
33. Go skydiving.
34. Attend every Wanderlust yoga & music festival.
35. Teach English in South Korea.
36. Volunteer at the humane society.
37. Get igolu certified.
38. Go bow hunting.
39. Go to Comic Con.
40. Visit Hello Kitty world (is that still a thing? Is it even a thing? I think it is...)
41. Get another tattoo.
42. Drive from northern California, up the coast, to Vancouver.
43. Pay off my student loans.
44. Step foot on every continent.
45. Spend a week in Patagonia.
46. Visit every national park in the U.S.
47. Complete at least one great walk in New Zealand.
48. Spend a few weeks in Norway.
49. Go to a Stanley Cup hockey game.
50. Stay in a tree house hotel.
51. Attend a yoga retreat in Mexico.
52. Teach a yoga class at a yoga festival.
53. Go to Disneyland with my nephew (or without him, but preferably with.)
54. Journal every single day for a year - or longer.
55. Visit Marine in South Africa.
56. Spend time in Fiji.
57. Take my dad on a vacation to Italy.
58. Start my own business.
59. Take a vacation with my sister-in-law.
60. Read the Game of Thrones books.
61. Go on a real camping trip.
62. Go back to Switzerland.
63. Go to Taylor's Fall's.
64. Hike in Oregon.
65. Go to an Eric Church concert.
66. Spend a long weekend at Lake Tahoe.
67. Practice yoga in Bali.
68. Go to a Wild vs. Blackhawk's game (and hopefully watch the Blackhawks lose).
69. Visit Iceland.
70. Read a new book every month for a year.
71. Visit every mountain town in Colorado.
72. Give being a full-time yoga teacher a try.
73. Teach an outdoor yoga class.
74. Watch every LOTR movie in a day.
75. Be able to do 100 (real) push-ups.
76. Become a morning person.
77. Hike from Aspen/Snowmass to Crested Butte.
78. Get my conceal and carry.
79. Ride a camel in Morocco.
80. Meet my birth parents.
81. Write a piece for Yoganonymous.
82. Pet a Koala bear.
83. Visit Utah.
84. Take a dirt biking lesson.
85. Go to another Zac Brown Band Concert - preferably at Red Rocks.
86. Visit my friend Haejoo in Seoul, South Korea.
87. Teach a yoga class with 100+ students.
88. Spend time in the mountains of Montana.
89. Make my own mala necklace.
90. Watch every episode of Friends. (I know I'm a little late to that party...)
91. Go an entire week without checking my email.
92. Get tickets to The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon.
93. See the Northern lights.
94. Go paragliding.
95. Stay in an over water bungalow.
96. Dye my hair purple.
97. Feed a hummingbird.
98. Spend a weekend in Nashville.
99. Teach my nephew to throw a Frisbee.
100. Take my teaching digital and create yoga videos.

If anyone is reading still - do we have any bucket list items in common? If so, let's get to checking some things off. Happy bucket-listing y'all!

why i do what i do

Oh man, you guys. I'm not going to lie, I've been feeling a little defeated as of late. A little context: I'm a seriously passionate person - I pour my heart and soul into everything I create and do. It's at the same time one of the best and most challenging things about me. I like to go all in. Once I set my sights on something, I obsess over it and pour every part of myself into it. It can be so, so rewarding, but it can also be exhausting.

If somehow you hadn't already gathered, writing is one of my passions. [Sidebar: I am so grateful for those of you who keep up with my blog and support me. I mean it, and I say that with my whole heart. Thank you.] And when I started blogging, I swore I would forever and always write simply because I love it, never with the goal of making money, although I'd never say no if someone wanted to pay me for doing something that brings so much joy to my life.

But like I said, I have this thing with going all in. If I'm going to do something I want to do it well, completely, wholly. I spend hours (seriously, hours) sifting through content on the .com about blogging - how to brand myself and my blog, how to increase my subscribers and drive traffic to my site, what kind of images draw the most attention, how to use Pinterest to grow my blog following, what I should and should not do, and the list goes on. It goes on for actual ever. Seriously, I could spend the rest of my life researching this stuff and I would still probably never feel like I know what I'm doing. Oy. I totally understand the use in all of this, I do. If you want to start a business, these are absolutely things you need to know.

Anyways, I digress. Where was I even? Oh, yes. Research. In my research, I check out a lot of other blogs to see what others are up to. And in doing so, I can't help but compare. I see those Instastars who have 50 thousand plus followers and get hundreds of likes on each of their photos, and I think how?  What do they have that I don't? Why don't people comment, like, or share my stuff? Why does no one read my blog? Is it me? Am I not skinny enough - or pretty enough - for people to be interested? (Sharing yourself on a platform that is based almost entirely on images is tough for self-conscious souls like me.) It just baffles me - not that people don't read my stuff, but the incredible followings these people have. It's incredible, but that's not my point. I'm getting there...slowly...I swear it.

And once I start comparing, I inevitably spiral into a dark corner where I am not enough, I am not doing enough, and what I create isn't enough. Like a wise man once said, comparison is the root of all unhappiness, which I couldn't agree with more.

When this happens, I panic a little. Ok, a lot. I start to read all these posts like, "What if Your Blog Never Takes Off?" or "Why Your Mom is the Only One Reading Your Blog," or "How to Start Making Money From Blogging." Full-blown panic mode (FBPM) shortly ensues. Shortly after FBPM come all of the drafts of "10 Must-See Beaches in New Zealand," "What to Pack for Your Year in New Zealand" and "Why You Should Quit Your Job and Travel." Yes, these are all real drafts - that will stay drafts - on my blog. First off, I kind of hate the beach. Second, I'm interested in everything but an expert in nothing. Shit, I don't know what you should pack for your year in New Zealand - I'm here, right now, and I still don't know. And third, I don't care for telling people what to do. Not my jam.

Now, there is absolutely nothing wrong with these kinds of posts - I read this kind of content all the time and find it extremely useful and informing - but it's just not me, you know? For all y'all who know me, you probably see me veering in this direction and think, "WTF mate?" Trust me, I'm thinking the same dang thing.

When I start to create things from a place of scarcity, because that's what other bloggers are doing, and/or in the hopes of making money, it's so...weird. It's forced and surrriously awkward. It's like I'm at book club, it's my turn to pick the book, and I choose The Bible. Again, nothing wrong with The Bible (go Jesus), but if you knew me you'd know how random and unnatural that would be of me. You'd probably think I were possessed.

There is n-o-t-h-i-n-g more draining and soul-sucking than trying to be someone you're not for reasons that aren't in line with your values, wants, and needs. Nothing. But if I'm putting all of this time, effort and heart into it - I should be getting paid or getting thousands of visitors, right? Or what's the point? I'm just wasting time otherwise, no? I get so down and just plain depressed thinking about all of this heart and soul being put into my writing and having no ROI. (The blog posts are getting to me, can you tell?)

Well, earlier today, I opened my Instagram to see what I had been tagged in. It was a feature from an account called @leadlikeher and I had been mentioned in a post featuring my friend and fellow blogger Ashley Gilles (check her out, she's up to crazy cool stuff!). The post mentions that I was a huge influence for her when she created her travel blog. Wow. Holy goose bumps. I was so flattered, honored, and humbled that I almost started crying - and I never cry unless I'm channel flipping and I get caught on that damn ASPCA commercial about abused animals with Sarah McLachlan jams - I know you know what I'm talking about. It gets me every damn time. Again, I digress. My bad.

That right there is why I blog: the connection created with another person who feels something - anything - from reading what I have to say. The I feel that too. It's not about the fame - I don't care about becoming Instagram famous or a top-read blog. It's definitely not about making money, either. It's all in the name of connection. If the words I share can light a spark in just one person's life, than it will all have been worth it.

My big learning and note to self: never forget why you started. Hold onto your intention like it's all you've got, and use it to pull you back to safety (more like sanity) when you get distracted and start to drift into oncoming traffic. When you're feeling lost and enveloped by darkness, use your "why" as your guiding light out, for it will never, ever lead you deeper into darkness. It may zig-zag you around for awhile, sometimes it will lead you in circles, but in the end you'll always make it into the clearing safe and sound.

For anyone who made it this far, why do you do what you do? And if you're not pursuing your passion, why not? What's really holding you back? Feel free to shoot me a message directly or comment in the section below. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Cheers, friends. Stay wild.

february reflection, march intentions

I love the beginning of a new month. And the middle. And the end - but there's something new and shiny and special about the beginning. I was reading Jacki Carr's latest blog post, and I got the idea to do some reflection and intention setting for February and March. I've found that any type of journaling - from taking the time to write in my notebook, blogging, scribbling on sticky notes, doodling - helps me to find clarity and focus in on what I want to create.

The two things I’m most proud of from February are:

1.  Making the time to put real work into my personal blog. I’ve been keeping up with posting, and even added a new section called get to know the guru – an inspirational interview series – that I’m super stoked about. Ch-ch-check it out you guys!
2. Tuning in and really listening to what I personally want and need, rather than what I think I should – or what I think others think I should – want and need. Let me tell you, it’s easier said than done. Truly a practice that I have to work on each and every day. #selflove

The two things I’m most grateful for from February are:

1. My people. My tribe. My hearts. I wouldn’t be able to be off on this crazy, wild adventure without all of these people around the world to support me – I couldn’t do it alone. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, because I haven’t. I think about y’all every damn day.
2. Connection. In every form – hugs from strangers at Wanderlust, evenings watching the sunset with someone I just met at my hostel that very afternoon, FaceTime with family and friends. Even small talk! I have met so many amazing people from all over the world – seriously, all over! And I’ve been able to stay in touch with all those who matter most back at home. Full heart.

The lesson I learned and am carrying forward with me from February is:

Buckle up, lean in, listen and learn. I’ve learned so much by being vulnerable and being present to all of it – the loneliness, the homesick pangs, the uncertainty, the excitement – and I have grown and learned so much along the journey.

My intention for March is:

S-l-o-w down. Enjoy. Play. Simply be. Take it all in, let it marinate. I’m so used to moving at light speed and having a packed schedule that I sometimes think the hustle is the only way there is – but it’s not! I don’t want to speed through this incredible part of my life.

One thing I am to do every day in March is:

Journal. Journal about what’s working, what isn’t working, what I’m grateful for, etc. It’s a great creative outlet for me and it helps me to work things out and reflect.

Because I am brave, here are two new/scary things I will do in March:

1. I will meet and have lunch or coffee or yoga date with (at least) three new people.
2.  I am renting a car and going on a mini-road trip by myself on the South Island. Watch out Kiwis, I’m not used to driving on the left side of the road! You’ve been warned. #tourist

The one book I definitely want to read in March is:

Adventures For Your Soul by Shannon Kaiser.

Just for fun, I will…

Pick up a hitchhiker. (Don’t tell my mom or dad! Especially not my big brother…heh)

As an act of intentional kindness, I will…

Practice the radical self love that I so rarely give myself.

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And that's me! What about you guys? What is March bringing up for y'all?