Hold Onto Your Reasons

There’s no easy way to walk away from a path that is fast gaining momentum, but just isn’t right, and choose another one. Likewise, there’s no simple balm for the overwhelming uncertainty, confusion, anxiety, or fear that you will feel. (A lot of). That is, if you veer left, despite the pressure to march straight ahead.

So what’s the left-turn? I think your younger self could tell you.

What was it you dreamt of achieving when you were a child? What got you fired up and excited about the life ahead of you?

I bet if you really listened, that same passion — that wild call to follow your soul’s vocation — would still be there. In fact, you may discover it’s been there all the while, whispering at times, but never silent, and always leading you onwards through the myriad of experiences and adventures, challenges, risks, and explorations throughout the years that brought you to today.

When I dug deeply and made space for that voice just over a year ago, I knew I had to trust the call to travel. And at the time, that meant leaving a career-oriented job that didn’t fit my value system and heading out into the vast unknown alone.

At first, I was terrified!

But I boarded that plane and took the leap anyways. It turned out to be an incredible multi-month journey full of love and synchronicity. In fact, traveling broke my heart open in the best way possible, and looking back, it was exactly what I needed.

Now that I’m back, I’m still listening, and that inner voice is still speaking. It’s familiar call is welcome now, and I’m honoring it. Currently, I’m following the call to be a writer. An artist. A crafter of beauty by way of words.

Writing has, for as long as I can remember, lit a fire inside of me. When I’m writing, I feel like a woman on an endless adventure holding a butterfly net, catching little glimpses at the bigger picture of something wonderful — flawed and tragic, but deeply nourishing. The best part about capturing stories is releasing them back into the wild. There are tales everywhere that need to be told, and shared, and revelled in. Thus, I’m focusing more on writing than ever before.

When distractions or doubts threaten to derail my dedication to what makes me feel alive, I hold onto my reasons.

It feels right. It adds purpose and meaning to my existence. It’s my dream. Life is too short to not live fully. I’m here to answer the call.

We all have to hold onto our reasons for following our dreams, or else we might as well just give up as soon as things get difficult, right?

No matter what your aspirations are, don’t take your hands off the steering wheel out of fear, or pressure to live a life that is financially rich, but spiritually poor. Hold onto your reasons for living the life you truly desire. Have faith in possibilities and perfectly introduced opportunities. Trust that the path unfolding is meant to support you in fulfilling your calling.

Take the left turn.

“That wind is calling my name.
I won’t wait or I’ll never get on.

So hold high, have faith your reasons;
Hold high, have faith your reasons.”
-Blind Pilot

This post was inspired by a lovely song called “Half Moon” by Blind Pilot, a band based out of Portland, Oregon.

One week into my 104- day journey across Europe.

One week into my 104- day journey across Europe.

An Ode to Identity Crisis, Embracing Change & Living Fully Now

“The purpose of the spiritual path is to unmask, to take off our armor. When that happens it feels like a crisis because it is a crisis – a fixed-identity crisis.” – Pema Chodron

What once was will not always be. And not just in regards to the external aspects of your life, but the internal aspects that make up who you are and how you interact with life. As humans, many of us are on a roller coaster, riding the emotional ups and downs of a constantly shifting understanding of ourselves, our place in the world and our purpose for being alive. When we deny the instability of our identities – and more broadly, the instability of our experience of being alive on this planet – we have what Bhuddist Nun, Pema Chodron, calls a ‘fixed-identity crisis’.

Yes change is scary. Yes change causes us anxiety and depression, but there is a way to ride the roller coaster and enjoy it. I know there is because I’ve experienced glimpses of it, tiny shreds of clarity and deep contentment, reached through great moments of surrender to living right now.

To demonstrate, I’ll share some of the many ways my life and identity have changed over the last decade and how, today, I’ve found a way to embrace change and live life fully.

Sixteen years of school fostered in me a safe and reliable identity of being a student. Being a student provided me a sense of security due to a pre-built infrastructure I could predict, access to a community of similarly identified people in my age group, and a clear medium through which to gauge my progress, successes and growth. University, albeit feeling restrictive to my freedom some of the time, provided a direct path to walk on and a clearly defined goal to reach: graduation with a degree in hand. Still, despite the label of “student,” I felt extremely uncertain about who I truly was and what it all was for, throughout that period of time. This was in part because I often attached my identity to the ever-changing relationships I was in, the opinions of my peers and family, my grades, my health, and of course, the constantly growing and shrinking awareness about myself, my political views, goals, dreams and values. Sound familiar?

After college, I wanted desperately to leave my hometown. I was ready to spread my wings and see more of the world. A common practice was to berate myself for not having left sooner, like many of my peers who moved across the country for college, thinking it somehow reflected a lack of bravery or adventure in me. Now I was finally free to go somewhere new, I thought. I attached my identity so strongly to where I physically lived that when a good job located in my hometown fell into my lap, I suffered a near-constant state of anxiety after accepting the position. Oh and did I mention that the transition from “student” to “worker” caused me panic, doubt and uncertainty? Well, that happened. Just ask my friends and family.

To make matters worse, shortly thereafter, my 2-year relationship painfully fell apart. A person who had become a large part of my life was no longer there, and I had to figure out what that meant and how to move forward. This was just months after I had moved into an intentional community, or cooperative home, built around living a more environmentally-friendly lifestyle, eating organic, growing our food and raising hens, eating vegetarian, sharing resources and connecting with the people around me on a deeper level than I had ever connected with previous housemates. At work, I sat in a bland, gray cubicle in a field of bland, gray cubicles. At home, I was taking naked saunas with my household, cooking dinner for my nine housemates each week, fetching eggs from the henhouse in the backyard and growing my repertoire of hula-hoop dance moves. Back at the office, I wore slacks and helped the company grow their bottom line through effective communications.

Along with the heartbreak I was experiencing, this oxymoronic double-life existence was causing me a lot of distress. I constantly felt like a fraud even though, in more ways than one, I actually fit into both lives to some extent at the time. I was successful at what I was doing in my job and started thriving when a manager I looked up to began mentoring me. Meanwhile, at home, I was happy hula hooping on the front lawn, writing poetry, living with a diverse group of people who I was growing to love, learning to blues dance and cook delicious vegetarian meals. I kept my personal life private from most of my co-workers out of fear that they would not take me seriously in the competitive corporate environment we were working in.

Eventually, the time came for me to make the changes my heart had desired for a long time and end the internal battle I was having about where I worked and its misalignment with my values. Ultimately, just like after graduating University, I strongly felt I needed to explore and experience more of the world, and in tandem, more of myself and what I was truly capable of. The death of two friends in the past year had sparked a sense of urgency in me to live life now and not postpone my dreams. Making a big change toward a more courageous and whole life was one way I felt I could honor my dear friends’ lives and their impact on me, so it was time to do something, and soon.

That’s when I bought a one-way ticket to Europe, left my job and moved in with my parents to save for the biggest adventure of my life to date. To say that I experienced fixed-identity crisis during my preparation for the trip would be a dire understatement. I was freaking out. My days were filled with both blissful excitement, and overwhelming anxiety and debilitating fear of the complete unknown I was about to actively dive into. Well, in case you haven’t read the numerous stories on this blog I wrote while on the trip [select ‘Travel‘ in the topics bar], let me just say it was the best decision I’ve ever made in my life and was EXACTLY what I needed, and more.

Three-in-a-half months of backpacking solo through twelve countries and 35 cities later,
I was on a 9-hour flight back to the United States, a changed woman inside and out. I promptly moved to Portland and started working full-time at a start-up, which brings me to today.

As you can tell, that’s a lot of change in a fairly short period of time. And maybe you’re thinking: that’s a lot of identity crisis to go through. And it was, but I’m learning that celebrating being alive now, in every state of mood, in every job, in every relationship, in every moment is really the antidote to fixed-identity crisis.

Today I drove home along the same mundane route I drive every day to and from work, singing at the top of my lungs and fist-pumping to the chorus while stopped at the red light, so I could celebrate being alive right then. Tonight, I’m going to spend my precious hours of free-time after work cleaning my room, cooking dinner and packing my lunch for tomorrow. It isn’t as glamorous as exploring Italy or dancing in Barcelona, but I’m going to do it while listening to music that makes me groove, so I can celebrate being alive right now. Tomorrow I’m going to participate in a strength-training class that kicks my ass every time, and I’m going to savor the deep breaths between sets, so I can celebrate being alive right then.

I guess the goal is this: to greet every changing moment of existence for the gift that it is and let it be. More importantly, to let yourself be. I’m going to avoid clinging to one experience as a definer of who I am, or one perspective of my life as a fact written in concrete. Because life is fluid, and we are too.

Everything changes and the more we embrace that, the more we can remove the mask of fixed-identity and be who we are right now in this moment – the only moment we have.

Life is now.

Life is now.