in medias res

My little red ropers

2010-08-02T20:48:00.000-07:00

I had these red ropers when I was little. I loved them. They were a particularly nice paring to my Wranglers, custom belt-buckle, starched cowboy shirt and cowboy hat. Don't judge. You know you went through a 'western' stage right around the time of Garth Brooks' release of Ropin' the Wind.

What are ropers you ask? (as if that was the most disturbing part of the above paragraph) They're a style of cowboy boot. Duh.

[See image below for a visual: think a smaller version. They'll be cuter that way.]

Although I'm fairly certain I will never own a pair of these clown shoes again, they remind me a part of me I hope to never lose. The country girl in me.

My business partner and I have been brainstorming company names for a little more than a month now. We both happen to be from Kansas so we are hoping to incorporate some things from our roots. Although this process has given me a ginormous headache, I have appreciated the opportunity to dust off a few memories and explore some areas of my life that I didn't think would jive in this oh-so-fashionable city of Angels.

What I'm learning is that L.A. could use a little country. And although I didn't actually grow up on a farm, the days I spent in those sassy red ropers, stomping through the rodeo grounds and clutching the stirrups of my horse's saddle may be enough cowgirl to make a difference out here in the Wild West.

That said, I vow to keep the ropers as a childhood adornment and replace them with red stilettos. You know, as a reminder to keep things real in a more 'relevant' way.

[NOTE: For nostalgic purposes (and my mom, who may be the only one still reading this blog), I offer you the following gem]

Who You Are

2010-07-15T13:17:00.001-07:00

I was in another client meeting this week with my partner in crime and was asked, "So, I know what he does, but what do you do?"

You see, "he" is a graphic designer. It's quite obvious what his contribution to the whole branding process is.

My contribution ... not so visible.

So when I was asked, "what the hell are you here for?" (in fewer words) I sort of ... freaked out. I had been over this question a million times in my head. But let's face it, I'm with them when wondering why I'd pay for someone's 'perspective.' I believe they call it "intellectual property" now, but it doesn't mean the invisible is easy to fork over hard cash for.

The truth is. You're paying for my opinion. You're paying for my thoughts and ideas regarding how we best communicate who you are and why you should be a topic of conversation at the dinner table.

You're paying for the strategy ... the reason behind the killer logo and compelling website. And you may even pay me for some witty copy if you're into that sort of thing.

My problem with this question is that I always wonder if that's enough. And in this particular moment I really didn't have a choice but to tell him exactly what it is they were signing up for with me. Usually I add a few "tangible" things onto the list like, "And I'll also run your Twitter account and ...." This time I didn't. And the lesson I learned from my sudden restraint:

Don't over-sell. If you try too hard to be what you think they would need instead of offering solutions to problems through your unique skillsets, you pigeon-hole yourself into a situation that you will loathe. (Yes, loathe.)

And maybe the more significant lesson ...

Who you are will be enough to the right people.

Who are you?

2010-07-07T16:07:00.000-07:00

I mean, who are you really?

Not, who you're trying to be, but ... you.

Go a head and answer. Guarantee it's not as easy as you think. Or maybe I'm just slow (which is always a possibility).

During a meeting with a client this week, there was a conversation around "uniqueness." You know, the "what differentiates you from all the other (fill in the blank)?" question. Which, by the way, is usually asked after the "who are you" question is answered with a jumbled mess of industry buzz words. So we ask again, "what makes you different than everyone else in your competitive grid?"

[Insert Silence. Lots of it]

They suddenly look as me as if i just attacked them. Like I just took that dream right off of the puffy rabbit-shaped cloud and sent it crashing to the ground. And I get it. This is a bit invasive. Overwhelming. Frustrating. It's embarrassing not to know the answer to a question that you, of all people, should be able to answer. Lucky for them, I know how hard it is. So before the self-depravation sends them into a panic, I chime in with some action steps and talk them gently talk them down from the ledge.

This part of the branding process isn't meant to be demoralizing, but when you realize what you've been doing all along is just some variation of what's already been done ... it's a bit of a slap in the face (especially if you've been a glorified copy-cat for most of your career/life. The horror sets in quickly with the thought of attempting to make the same living as ... yourself).

To become "reacquainted" with yourself, so-to-speak, is ... messy. It can bring up some things that have long been stored away. For some, the "what makes you unique" conversation reminds them of middle school and their "unique" frizzy hair, head gear or bi-focal glasses everyone else deemed as free comedic material. Ever since then, unique left a bit of a bad taste in their mouths. For others the word seems to fuel their arrogance and its over-use in their dialog makes it strangely ... forgettable.

Either way, the next time someone asks you what you're about, I hope you're able to tell them why you're different. Not just for the sake of being different ... but because you are ... even if you haven't given yourself permission to own it since that one day in science when someone accidentally lit your uniquely frizzy hair on fire.

The truth: you're no good to us as someone else. So, sit on it for a while and come up with an answer that actually suits you ... not the person you think they want you to be. And if that seems daunting and you can't get past the first question without driving yourself into an invisible riverbank, ask a friend or enemy your trust to give it to you straight. Guarantee they've seen it in you for a while now and they've just been waiting for you to figure it out yourself. And once the lightbulb goes off, it's time to own it. Got it? I'm serious. Don't even do this if you aren't ready to see what you're really made of.

Ok. Now go make it happen.

remember that post about dreams?

2010-06-29T11:59:00.000-07:00

As it turns out, there has been a bit of a merger between new, shiny, diversion dream and old, passion-fueled, unsafe dream.

Here's how it went down:

Ran into an old friend/band mate on a Sunday.

He invited me to an open house for this new vocal studio/bar/musicians movement he is spearheading in Hollywood Monday evening.

Monday evening, I go with husband in tow.

We meet said vocal coach and are on our merry way.

Meeting with old friend/band mate takes place a few days later regarding the details of all the new happenings.

Meeting is then scheduled with old friend/band mate's vocal coach partner friend for the following week to talk about a joint branding seminar for musicians.

Meeting with vocal coach partner friend goes well.

First meeting with vocal student is set for tomorrow.

Uh.

What just happened?

This abrupt turn down the path of never-in-my-wildest-dreams has led me to freak out a bit. I wouldn't say more than usual, but it definitely funnels my paranoia into a specific area of my life for the time being.

I mean, it can't be this perfect can it? Isn't there a point where things are just too good to be true and the floor falls out from under your feet without so much as a warning?

A good friend of mine asked if I watched for falling anvils when I walked outside. My response, "No, not anvils ... pianos. Grand pianos. You can never be too prepared."

Of course I'm secretly hoping all this is happening because I've worked hard for it and have carved a nice little niche for myself based on deeply rooted passions. But I can't help feeling a bit unnerved (and tremendously guilty) that my career is creating itself before I even got the chance to develop a marketing campaign. Even worse ... had I planned this for myself, I most-likely wouldn't have taken it in this direction because I would have thought it impossible.

Here's to hanging on for dear life and giving myself permission to enjoy the ride every-once-in-a-while. (I'll let you know how the latter part goes shortly ...)

oh the insanity

2010-06-25T13:52:00.000-07:00

I've heard it asked before in my line of business, "Can you do that 'iPhone thing' for us?"

And my typical response (in true justifiable sarcasm), "Sure! So you want to sign up for the 30-year contract then ... great! I could use the stable income!"

I mean, seriously? What is it with businesses thinking they can snap their fingers and create a following as loyal (and insane) as Apple's? And at what point did we all fail to acknowledge this movement of brand loyalists began long before the genesis of the iPhone?

This stuff takes time.

If you're willing to let it marinate for a while, you have a rare opportunity to get to know your consumer and what melts their butter. And because of that ... you are able to invoke behaviors out of said consumers that aren't particularly logical.

Like lining up in front of your store a day before a product launch.

I was never that person and, quite frankly, never understood it. Well, at least not until I met my husband. Now, I just consider myself an early adopter by default. Which is why I waited in line with my restless puppy and hundreds of other Apple fanatics for five and a half hours yesterday (IN THE RESERVED LINE) to be one of the first to have an iPhone 4.

The worst part of the entire experience was that I actually enjoyed myself and I would venture to say most people in line had a great time as well. So I may have sipped on the Kool-Aid a bit, but to my credit, it tasted really refreshing. And so did the free coffee and scones they serve to everyone in line for breakfast and the bottled water and candy bars they delivered for snacks. A part of me even wished I could have stayed a longer when they started handing out sandwich wraps, but my dog was out of poop bags and I was too afraid of getting jumped in the parking lot if I didn't move quickly.

All that to say, movements take time. Brand development takes time. And anyone who wants the 'iPhone thing' to happen to them, better be in it for the long haul. Which (in my book) means you sure as hell better believe in what you're doing - whether or not you have people camping out at your doorstep.

the newbie

2010-06-23T20:38:00.000-07:00

I went with a good friend of mine to a networking event last night. Typically I get a sick high off of working a room, but I have to admit, I was a little sheepish.

Ok, a lot sheepish. In fact, my introverted friend had to force me to introduce myself to someone.

Neither of us are used to being the "new people." And if we are, there is at least context to go with the conversation that makes things less ... awkward.

Take, for instance, a film festival. It may be in a new city and I may not know a soul (or anything about filmmaking for that matter), but we already have a foundation built for our conversation: film. I could talk about our film or any other film I happened to see that day. Hell, I could even BS my way through a basic "when I was on set" story.

But this ... this was different.

I felt like I was the person waiting for someone to come talk to me (and was hoping if anyone did approach us, they would set the topic of conversation so I didn't have to guess what was appropriate). Oh, and did I mention this group was for women entrepreneurs in L.A.? Talk about a broad subject base.

"So, what do you do?" Krysta

"Um. I run my own business." Member of aforementioned women's entrepreneur group

"Right." Krysta

No thanks. I'll pass on that dose of humiliation.

Luckily for my friend and I, another new (and much braver) attendee introduced herself and we had a fine conversation. We even exchanged business cards and vowed to check out her new tea shop in Hollywood.

And luckily for anyone who comes to an event I attend/lead in the future, I will be much more intentional about including you.

My suggestion to anyone reading: get out of your bubble if you haven't already. I mean ... really out of your bubble. You may learn a thing or two about yourself. For better or worse.

adults are liars

2010-06-16T12:52:00.000-07:00

I had the good fortune of meeting a young lady this week for coffee.

She just finished her first year of undergrad and has enough passion to keep the city of L.A. lit for a good 25 years. If you would like to meet her (which would only be to your benefit) click here.

As we were sitting there, chatting away, I realized ... I'm 10 years older than her.

How did that happen? I mean, wasn't I just in undergrad myself? And how did I become the person offering career/life advice as if I've got it all figured out?

Then it came to me: Adults are liars.

There. I said it.

When I was 18, I was convinced I was going to change the world. So I met with older, wiser people about how I should prepare for that sort of undertaking.

They had no idea what to do with my gangly, frizzy-haired self. Thank God I ended up getting a "real" career mentor who wasn't afraid of my wild ideas and certainly never requested I be tamed.

I had a gazillion passions that I would later learn funneled back to a core belief that people just need permission to do what they were created to do. (Which, consequently requires a bit of branding and business acumen). But who can make money doing that, right?

As I was sitting there listening to mini-me (only much more intelligent and entrepreneurial than I ever was as 18), I couldn't help but think I don't belong at the big-kid table yet. And I don't think many others do either. Because we don't have it figured out anymore than we did 10 years ago. Our businesses, our lives and certainly the trajectory for our futures are messy and a bit blurry. Yet, the 28-year-olds I remember having conversations with when I was 18 had me convinced that they had it together.

And maybe that made them feel better about themselves ... for a few minutes. But if they were anything like I was the other day, they probably walked away wishing they were 18 again. When passion was plentiful and dreams were endless.

Either way, I've been revived. I was reminded of what it felt like to believe I could do anything. And more importantly, I was reminded that when you're doing what you could only have dreamed of at 18, it's time to start dreaming again.

Oh. And If you're younger than 38, I don't trust you to tell me the truth. God knows you don't have it figured out yet either.

still chasing

2010-06-01T13:46:00.000-07:00

Not to be entirely pessimistic, but I'm beginning to think the whole notion of "following your dreams" has been a bit misleading.

I'll explain.

When I decided to go chasing down my pipe dreams, I didn't anticipate finding new ones in the process. As I realized there were more ways than one to exercise my passions, I found myself overwhelmed and confused by the seemingly endless possibilities.

Before I knew it, I was at a crossroads where the dream that had driven me to this new life was no longer the reason I chose to stay, leaving me paralyzed. I starting to ask myself, "Am I supposed to chase ALL of my dreams? Or do I keep moving forward with the first one ... ignoring all the shiny diversions?"

I keep looking back, wondering if these new dreams will have as much fuel to drive me to new and challenging places as the original one did. Or was that first dream born of an overtly passionate 20-something who, in her naivete, stepped unknowingly into something much larger than herself? Will this older 20-something, in her infinite wisdom about all things life (heavy sarcasm), ever be so naive as to make a leap so reckless again? Did she settle for the 'safer' of the two (devil's advocate. Starting your own company is never the safer of the two - economically. I'm talking emotional security here). I would over-think this so much if it were not for the nagging of the old dream that still lingers just below the surface.

After spending the weekend in Kansas with family and old friends, I was reminded of the passions that once laced every conversation and motivation. I definitely had a personal brand that led everyone to inquire about one thing ... music. And I couldn't help but wonder if I gave up too soon ... hiding behind realism and my ever-logical notion of not wanting to blend in with the crowd. Because, let's be honest, how could a girl from Kansas who doesn't write her own music or lead with her own guitar make it in the music industry without a distinct voice? I wouldn't even buy my records. So, I'd rather help you ... the talented one ... step onto a platform your worthy of. You know, be your manager or run the tour, which was always the fun business route.

But I'm not doing that either.

Not even a trace that initial dream in my current life. And if I were totally honest ... it makes me nauseous.

My point? I'm not sure if I have one. Other than some dreams don't seem to die as you become interested in others. And I'm just wondering if the ones that come back to haunt you are worth dusting back off and pursuing again, or if they are just another piece of nostalgia that remind of you of who you once were (which, by the way, is still a part of ... you). And just for the sake of finding some gray area, is there a way to merge the two? If not, I fear that "following my dreams" will make me even more ADD than I already am. Because, seriously, who only has one dream?

parenthood

2010-05-25T14:22:00.000-07:00

So, the husband and I got a dog.

A really cute one.

In fact, she's throwing a ball to herself as we speak which I find especially endearing. Reminds of the only child who has an imaginary friend.

Anyway, we became parents rather suddenly. Some friends of some friends found said puppy on the side of an L.A. freeway. Through a series of events, she landed in our possession completely unharmed and full of energy.

We were thrilled ... a bit nervous ... and totally unprepared.

Which is what I would imagine "real" parenthood is like.

Aside from the sudden change in my daily routine, the duties of disciplining and potty training and the incessant picture taking when she does, yet another, super cute (fill in the blank) ... I've been humbled by the arrogance of a previous theory that children/pets are a reflection of their parents.

While in most cases this is, in fact, truth, I feel the greater epiphany lies in the idea that one shouldn't judge unless one has been there herself.

Parenting is hard. Even if what you are parenting is merely a 6-month-old puggle mutt. I can't imagine how we would have made it our first week without Google. And although I still hold to my belief that pet/child owners could be more responsible and lead with greater conviction ... there are just some things you're going to have to take the dirty looks for. Dirty looks that I will now be less generous with in Target if your two children are squeezing doggie toys or if your puppy pees on my floor.

would you be you if ...

2010-05-13T18:32:00.000-07:00

If you lived in a different time period?

Seriously though.

I often wonder if I'd be as blunt if I lived in the 50's.

Would I have been so disgusted with racism before the civil rights movement had I lived then? Would I have done something about it?

Would I have had the opportunity to travel, to obtain a master's degree ... to even go to college?

What would my filmmaker husband be so passionate about if he were born in the late 1800's?

Makes me feel like we were created for this exact time in human history for a reason. (Yeah, I know ... maybe I should have been born in the 60's so I could have joined the rest of the New Age movement philosophers).

But seriously. Even if I didn't believe I'm here on this earth for a reason, I still can't help but wonder what I can do with the life I have that people before me could only dream of doing.

i'm back

2010-05-11T07:49:00.000-07:00

The blog hiatus has ended.

Life quickly went from pre-wedding to wedding to honeymoon madness during my time away and I'm still not sure I have anything to report that would make much sense as I'm very much living life in a blur.

I was talking to a friend last night and said, "Before the wedding, I felt restless because I just wanted this new life to begin. The wedding was the only thing standing in the way of that and I poured myself into making it a good experience for everyone. When it was actually happening, I tried to do what everyone had told me, 'stop and take it all in because it goes by so quickly.' In fact, there were a few moments that I remember vividly because I stopped and just let it soak in. But now ... well ... what do I do now?"

With no job to go back to, no wedding to-do list to tackle ... I feel a very real lack of purpose. And as most of you know, my "work" has typically been used as a validator for my sense of self-worth. (That and a very unhealthy need for approval from other people). I digress.

I've gotten quite good at loading and unloading the dishwasher, putting clothes away, keep the plants watered and setting out meat to thaw for dinner. Which, to be honest, is impressive (for me). And in my first week back to reality, I've realized I have a lot to learn about being a wife - getting my husband's favorite donut right for starters. (For the record, it's a regular cake donut with regular icing and sprinkles, NOT chocolate icing.)

In the meantime, I'm trying to take advantage of this opportunity to figure out what my real contribution to this world is going to be. There's something about getting a new name that makes me feel like I have a clean slate ... like I have a choice for who I become (I know, I had a chance with the last name too. Humor me).

Even if it's an allusion, the idea of redefining life from a 'new me's' perspective is intriguing. So. I'm gonna run with it and see what happens. Maybe I'll run into the me I was created to be in the first place. Or maybe I'll realize that who I've been this whole time is exactly who I was meant to be. Either way, it's nice to have the space to explore.

Lessons on being resilient

2010-03-22T14:18:00.000-07:00

Last week, a few things happened that reminded me how crucial the combination of resourcefulness AND resilience is in surviving major transitions.

1. The contract that had been pushed back until the fall of this year. (Read previous entry)

2. The bumper that fell off, which led to the misuse of hair ties and a roadside epiphany. (Again, refer to previous entry)

3. My busted teeth. So I've had some pretty intense pain in the last month in my lower gum region. I initially thought my wisdom teeth were choosing the most inopportune time to come in and wreak havoc, but then the pain became concentrated to a specific tooth. Since I've never had a cavity, I assumed I'd either need to have a filling or get a root canal (since I'm a dental expert and all). Knowing that I won't have insurance for another few weeks, I kept pushing it off ... that is ... until I spent an entire night with two bags of frozen peas on my face.

So, I called a family friend and she got me in to see her boss (aka ... the dentist). They took an xray and saw ... nothing. No cavity, thus, no root canal. And they didn't even see wisdom teeth. She suggested I start taking Advil and try to lessen my stress load.

Awesome.

4. Oh, on my way to said dentist office ... my check engine light came on. Yeah. I was in Orange County, already late to my appointment because I was lost and now my engine light was on.

"How does my car know it's being held together by hair ties?" Ugh.

I procede to the dentist, have them tell me I need to calm down, have lunch with the future mom-in-law to take a breather and then head to a mechanic who then told me he had never seen that code come up before and that I'd be fine. He went ahead and cleared my car's computer and the light has been off since. Thank God, because I had an engagement party to throw and a fiance's film shoot to support within 24 hours of my dental/engine escapade.

What's the point of all this?

Life happens. And sometimes it happens all at once ... the good and the bad. I've always been pretty good at snapping back, but I have to admit ... this kind of stuff can make a person crazy. So, my suggestions when life happens (in an overwhelming "I'm getting married in less than a month, my teeth hurt and I don't have insurance, I'm not making any money and I have bills and my bumper just fell off " kind of way) ...

1. Re-evaluate finances and shuffle things around a bit. You may even need to ask for help (gulp)

2. Remember to keep hair ties handy OR make lemonade by offering your busted up car to a nice group of filmmakers who were looking for just this kind of prop for their car crash scene in a film so conveniently shooting the week of the incident.

3. Don't grind your teeth ... it causes inflammation and soreness. Oh, and shell out the money to take care of your body. I know times are tough, but times will always be tough when you're choosing between xrays and a mariachi band for your wedding's cocktail hour. So suck it up and pay for the tests.

4. There are things we just can't control. And as someone who likes to fret over those things specifically, I'm going to go on record and say, "it doesn't help." Grab a beverage of choice, some chocolate, maybe even a nice bubble bath and give yourself an hour to just calm the heck down. Because we all know this too shall pass ;)

Lessons on being resourceful

2010-03-18T16:48:00.000-07:00

Today a few things happened that reminded me, being resourceful may be the only way I survive self-employment.

1. A contract that had been signed by a client, was retracted until the fall. Putting not only a huge financial strain on me personally for the coming months, but also reminding me that putting all my eggs in one basket ... not so much a great idea. So my frantic fingers went to work emailing every lead I've ever had and calling as many people as possible to get face time with people who may be interested in my product.

2. My bumper fell off this week. Yeah. We were able to put it back on with zip ties and it's actually quite sturdy. Except for one piece ... apparently. Which I realized as I was on the 22 freeway heading back from a meeting with aforementioned client. I pulled over, thinking I'd find that my entire bumper was dragging underneath my car. Alas, it was just a flap of it hitting my front tire. In my cute green heels and trendy little outfit, I kneeled under my car, surveyed the damage and decided two hair ties would have to do the job. And they did.

My point? First of all ... I just put my car back together with hair ties. Let's be honest ... that's pretty amazing. Not the safest, but definitely impressive.

Second ... being resourceful could very well be the one thing that separates you from the people who have consistent work and ... secure bumpers. Today was just enough to remind me that this trait will be my lifeline as an independent contractor and driver without AAA.

Here's to life's lemons ...

God

2010-03-01T11:08:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking about these two questions a lot lately:

What do I think of God?

Who do I think He is?

I don't know if you watch Dexter, but if you do, you may understand where my growing paranoia with all things terrifying may come from.

I have escape plans. Lots of them. You can never be too prepared for a home-invasion.

But this deeply rooted fear that something bad is going to happen ... especially because my life is just a little too good to be true ... has consumed me. It causes me to spend time thinking of exit strategies and living in fear of what's around the corner or behind the shower curtain more than living in joy or celebration of the moment.

Now, you may be thinking, "then just stop watching that stupid show." And, while I would agree that it certainly doesn't help ... the show and it's influence are not my biggest concerns.

My concern is that what I think about God and who I think He is plays a much larger role in my living in fear.

I would love to blame it on the fire and brimstone sermons I heard as a kid. Or the youth group revival talks where they say you can be hit by a car and die when you walk out of church that night (just to scare kids into accepting Christ). And who knows, that may very well have played a role.

But I'm 27 years old. I have a brain of my own and, consequently, can think for myself.

I'm fully aware people go to school and become religious leaders to guide people like me in my thinking of the subject. I just feel a little thinking and digging for myself was a more viable option.

So. I went to a Bible study.

Yes ... a legit Bible study with a bunch of really cool girls my age. They aren't like the people I used to be in Bible study with. They're more ... honest ... real ... raw (can I say that?).

Anyway. We were reading Galatians 5. And I started to squirm a little. It took me a few times of reading through it to realize I could interact with the Scripture in a different way than I had done before.

I'm going to be real honest here. My most intimate interactions with the Bible came out of judgement. I was either trying to prove why I was right (and spending hours finding one measly verse that would validate my opinion) or trying to prove someone else's actions were wrong (and there are PLENTY of "Christian Living" books that helped me out there). I would occasionally stumble on passages that blew my mind and gave me a glimpse on how I should have been acting ... but I mostly used it as a metric for rules.

Let me tell you what I learned though.

The first sentence of this chapter is about freedom. God must care about freedom ... What I think of God and who I think He is did not jive with that. To me, he is a God of judgement. I remember being told multiple times that Satan only pays attention to people who are a threat to his mission. I used to think all my adversities could be attributed to the fact that I was doing something so detrimental to the work of evil in this world that obstacles were being thrown my way to deter me.

So. When things started going well for me ... I stopped reading the Bible and being so forward about my "religion." Why? Because I was tired. I was tired of the bad stuff and figured I'd lay low for a while on this whole God thing. I'd still talk to God and serve people and do all those moral things you're supposed to do ... But I certainly didn't want to be noticed. I'm not sure I had the energy for it anymore if that whole theory really was right.

But what this did eventually, was make me feel like I wasn't in the game. And in this passage it says, "You were running well; who hindered you from obeying the truth?"

Uh. Well ...

Your people. Those who claim to be "followers" kind-of left me a little jaded by this whole God thing. And I've just been trying to follow the rules close enough so I don't get yelled at. And what is truth anyway?

God is a God of rules. Lots of them.

Except, if you REALLY read this passage ... He's notsomuch. Because back in the day, all the churchy people kept this whole God thing reserved for people who were exactly like them. It was like a little club or secret society. It wasn't for people on the outside ... and God wasn't having it. It's obvious His "people" didn't quite get that ... but He made sure to repeat Himself until they started to catch on.

So. God is a God of equality. Everyone matters. Everyone.

The kicker: People who love God, are full of what He calls the fruit of the Spirit. I can recite these in my sleep (thanks Sunday school). But the one that stuck out ... Joy. I don't see that a lot. Especially in the traditional church. And if I do ... it's the creepy Christian kind-of joy that makes me feel like I'm in some weird cult.

But joy. Pure joy. I'd like that.

And if maybe I trusted God (which I think is the zinger here) ... I mean, really trusted Him and believed that His intentions aren't to test me or send me threw the ringer ... I may live more intentionally and certainly less fearful. Even if the possibility of the final episode of season 4's Dexter is possible ...

So, what do you think of God?

When you become the person you've been running from

2010-02-16T20:16:00.000-08:00

You either embrace it full on or continue fighting it.

Housewife. Business owner.

I always wanted one and ran from the other. You've got a 50/50 shot at which was which.

I never thought the two would ever coincide. My goal wasn't to come up with a business that could be reflected in a stereotypical female role. I was going to play a man's game in a man's world. Which, left no room for things like baking and cleaning house. I never pretended I could be super woman, so I chose one and ran with it while running from the other.

The sweet smell of a freshly dry cleaned suit, stillettoe pumps and a leather satchel... Ahhhh.

But I've found myself in a rather awkward position: working from home.

Yes. That means I've taken to baking and cooking more in between research and meetings. And while I'm doing it, I have to admit it feels liberating. Not super tasty quite yet... But liberating nonetheless to try something so unnatural and new.

When it's just me and my wisk... I own it. And when I'm alone ... you may even catch me with a smile on my face while I watch the batter rise or the chicken brown.

The second vince (or anyone else walks in for that matter) the gig is up. This isn't comfortable for me. I haven't practiced this part. My natural position ... In a conference room. Not behind the stove. And I've made that very clear. You know ... so that there is no confusion that I'm not like other people. (because apparently that has been super important to me)

So. When any mention of how I can improve comes up, or even suggestions for maximizing efficency (which i usually appreciate) ... I lose it. I feel entirely too vulnerable. Naked. Completely exposed to the world that I'm just like every other woman to ever fall blindly into their 'role.' And I am reminded that I'm not particularly good at this... At least not yet. And the truth ... I hate being a weak link.

So, in my mental panic and after I've made a complete fool of myself (and perhaps even burnt something), I remember that I have a choice. I can either define what this whole being a woman, nearly married with a career ahead of her looks like. Or I can live in the fear that I will become ... A stereotype that was probably defined in the first place by people who haven't a clue to begin with and just like seeing girls like me freak out on a regular basis.

Tonight, I chose first to retaliate in fear.

I'm really hoping to get over that before I miss out on a chance to create my own definitions for the roles I choose to play. Or, at the very least, maybe I'll learn to give myself permission to experiment with these "gender specific" roles in case I've mis-perceived its excitement all along.

do you feel taller?

2010-02-13T09:14:00.000-08:00

My parents used to ask me that every year on the morning of my birthday.

This morning ... Vince asked me and my response, "a little. But I'm wearing heels ..." It's always a nice reminder that each year brings growth ...

26 was a year that would catalyze some really big changes in my life.

I traveled ... gave more of my heart to the places I love around the globe.

I went home more which ultimately led to a greater appreciation for the things/people that I grew up with. And also reminded me that I have the power to create my own future.

I got engaged which has brought me to a new level of hormonal imbalance, fear and reckless abandon all in the name of love.

I have acquired a love for most things domestic. Call it "nesting" or my biological clock ticking feverishly (and ... I would argue ... prematurely), but I freaking love baking and playing host.

I became a pseudo home-owner. Meaning ... I invested but don't have to help Vince with the mortgage ... at least not until April.

I quit my job to pursue a life-long dream of being the boss. I'll let you know in 6 months how that's working out!

I learned a lot this year. I digressed ... but at least feel that I'm learning. From both the successes and failures.

I was cleaning out some boxes the other day and came across a dream book. It was something I threw together throughout the years of images from magazines that I only dreamed would one day represent my life.

Most of the images were of couples ... not doing anything in particular but clearly in love. Others were of floor plans for homes that will have to remain there until I become a millionaire. But something struck me about the whole book. I always thought 27 would be the best year ... that somehow it would be the year I could look back and be proud of where I had been and what I had become. That 27 would be the beginning of an entirely new era of what my life was meant to be and what I'm capable of. And to be honest ... I'm feeling like that may just be where I am.

So ... here's to you 26 ... for being full of lessons and adventure.

To 27 ... let's do this. ;)

being human

2010-01-26T08:30:00.000-08:00

[This from Anne Jackson's website -- guest blogger Seth Godin.]

Why is it so difficult to be human?

What does it mean to be human anyway?

A key part of being a real person – a human being – is showing up, especially when it’s difficult, particularly when it’s frightening to do so.

Showing up counts for a lot. Why? Because it’s scarce.

Someone who will comfort you on the phone in the middle of the night, then throw on a bathrobe and drive to your house. That’s precious.

Someone who tells you the truth.

Someone who exposes herself, is present, connected and willing to let you hurt them.

These are the things we seek out as people, and yet we rarely find them. And yet we are rarely willing to be this person.

We built institutions, organizations and religions to make it easy to avoid being this person. The rules and principles and jobs and buildings and code words and admonitions… they all exist to protect us from the truths we’re afraid of and from the interactions we’d rather not have.

They organize us, and organization is a wonderful way to be protected.

We go to work and we hide. We hide behind the religion of our brand or our team or our Dunder-Mifflin employee manual. We go to a foreign country and we play tourist, because actually going there is too difficult, too risky, to exposed.

Showing up counts for a lot.

When we show up, we connect, we make change, we are transparent, and yes, we’re human.

Caring hurts sometimes, and that’s inconvenient.

The good news is that more than ever, value accrues to those that show up, those that make a difference, those that do work that matters.

The good news is that digging deep and fighting that voice that begs us to shut up instead of show up really pays off now, in more ways than we can count.

Faith in yourself, in your friends, in your colleagues and most of all, faith in your ability to impact our future is the best strategy I know.

—-

Seth Godin’s new book LINCHPIN comes out today. It’s about art and gifts and connection and making a difference. And you should really read it because it’s really great

new ventures

2010-01-15T10:45:00.000-08:00

Since I can remember, my grandpa's office was a make-shift playground. After hours and on the weekends, I would sit in his big leather chair and open the top drawer to find an assortment of pens and highlighters that would soon be used to scribble my thoughts on neon post it notes. I attribute my obsession for office supplies to growing up around his fully stocked office.

He had the corner office for years at his company until he and his two partners decided to join each other in a shared office upstairs overlooking the shop. While I preferred the corner office, the joint loft provided new toys to play with, like drafting tables with lights that would illuminate the blue prints scattered across the room.

I loved being able to have the vantage point from the glass wall of their loft looking over the shop. There was something inspiring about the work that happened from their chairs that was somehow translated to the work happening below.

I would always go down to the shop and get a glass bottle of Coke from the old vending machine. My uncle and father's offices were out there and it was always an adventure to weave in and out of sheet metal sparks to the plumbing sparks where I'd find dad and uncle Chris working on, yet another, side project after hours.

Between the smell of grease and sweat of that shop and the scent of burned coffee and stale air in the office, I became passionate about business. And I'm not sure I realized how much that impacted me until this past month ...

It began with an email from my grandfather late one evening that said the gentleman who had bought his company had been found dead at his home.

I'm not sure why it shook me as much as it did, but I do know it caused me to reevaluate a few things. And in my first week of self-employment, the first of many risks I will surely take as a business woman myself, the step back couldn't have been more timely.

As I gather my own drawer of pens, post it notes, clients and work that I am passionate about, I need to remember that there are more important things in life than ... work. And I'll be the first to admit that concept doesn't come easy for me.

I have a lot going on in the coming months that could cause me to make hasty decisions about the foundation of my business. If I've learned anything from my grandpa's office and his colleagues death, it's that a company will provide an endless supply of distractions ... and it's my job to make sure they don't interfere with life and the stuff that really matters.

napping

2010-01-11T08:36:00.001-08:00

I was fully prepared to write a blog about how difficult it is to be a 20-something.

Seemingly so many pressures. Countless decisions to be made that may or may not lead us in the right trajectory to be successful 30-somethings. Not to mention feeling like everyone else around us is getting all these opportunities to do what we could only hope to do at some point in our careers.

It's exhausting. And ultimately discouraging if you think about it for too long. But after a few conversations this weekend, I feel more hopeful about the future of my friend's careers. No, not mine, but certainly other people's. And while I hold up hope for them, it may bode me well to follow the advice below for my own internal quarter life crisis:

We are the strivingest people who have ever lived. We are ambitious, time-starved, competitive, distracted. We move at full velocity, yet constantly fear we are not doing enough. Though we live longer than any humans before
us, our lives feel shorter, restless, breathless...

Dear ones, EASE UP. Pump the brakes. Take a step back. Seriously. Take two steps back. Turn off all your electronics and surrender over all your aspirations and do absolutely nothing for a spell. I know, I know – we all need to save the world. But trust me: The world will still need saving tomorrow. In the meantime, you’re going
to have a stroke soon (or cause a stroke in somebody else) if you don’t calm the hell down.

So go take a walk. Or don’t. Consider actually exhaling. Find a body of water and float. Hit a tennis ball against a wall. Tell your colleagues that you’re off meditating (people take meditation seriously, so you’ll be absolved from guilt) and then actually, secretly, nap.

My radical suggestion? Cease participation, if only for one day this year – if only to make sure that we don’t lose forever the rare and vanishing human talent of appreciating ease. Elizabeth Gilbert

I'll admit that my natural response would be, "There are plenty of people in this world taking naps. I, on the other hand, have work to do. You with me?" But lately, I'm kind-of feeling (and hoping) she's right. Would it KILL me to calm the hell down? I mean, really. Would it kill any of us 20-somethings to just exhale for a second and realize we're doing ok ... honestly. We aren't failures.

Maybe we could try and enjoy what we've got now ... because something tells me our idea of "making it" may not be a walk in the park either.

So. Here's to naps and actually breathing ... you know ... the inhaling AND exhaling kind.

imagination station

2010-01-08T08:21:00.000-08:00

I've felt a lot of anxiety over this "first post" of the new year (and 300th post of my blogging existence). There seems to be so much pressure to write something profound given the circumstances, but I think what I've come to is this ...

I've lost the imaginative spirit I once had as a child and I'd like to reclaim it.

We can all agree that proper schooling and societal pressures have caused most of us to forgo colored pencils and opt for spread sheets and mahogany desks. Even some of the bohemians out there feel that their creativity has become stifled by clients who can't seem to catch the vision.

None of this really occurred to me until I watched Avatar.

I know. I know. Another post on movies ... in particular one of the most talked about films of 2009. But hear me out.

As I sat in the theater I found myself, on multiple occasions, completely lost in the world James Cameron and his technologically inclined friends created. I wanted to be there. And for a few moments I was so captivated that I actually thought that world existed.

When I snapped out of it, I was pretty irritated. Not just because I had to face a reality void of floating jelly fish things and surfaces that light up at the touch, but because I haven't (even in the depths of my imagination) come close to an imaginary life like that since I was in grade school. And let's be honest ... even then I usually dreamed of castles, motes and cool dresses.

Even worse, my imagination a few years ago of the life I'd have today was nothing more than a block buster rom-com script in which I would (hopefully) play the leading lady.

I mean, really? Is that honestly the best I could do with a brain capable of so much more? Let me tell you, my life is so much cooler than any Meg Ryan script I dreamed of years ago. So why haven't I unleashed my imagination to the possibilities of what the next few years may look like?

I realized after my Avatar experience, that there is something kind-of deep happening here.
1. I feel guilty for dreaming of too great of a life (or having too great of a life, for that matter) because so many others don't.
2. I don't really believe those things are meant for someone like me ...
3. Even if I let myself go crazy and "dream" ... it doesn't go much farther than the best of what has already been done.

I'm tired of only imagining a life of greater possibility within the confines of what already exists. What if the life I want to create for myself ... a life that lets me be the truest of who I am ... hasn't been created yet? What if it's my job to dream it up ... to imagine it? And to create a space for others to join with me in the process of creating a future full of possibilities that go beyond the genius of Apple's products, Google's workspace and even James Cameron's Avatar ...

I'm a little rusty at this, so it'll definitely take practice, but I'm thinking 2010 will be full of possibilities for me that I've never considered. And even if they don't come into fruition ... I'll at least have a happy place that will keep me hopeful until something does!

my contemplative end-of-the year thoughts

2009-12-30T10:44:00.000-08:00

Today’s unexpected dreary, rainy and relatively brisk weather provided the perfect platform for me to sit and reflect on the year that has been and the year that is to come.

Nothing significantly earth shattering comes to mind. Other than, of course, the impending changes that are about to take place in my life whether or not I’m prepared.

As I mentioned a few entries ago … major changes needed to be made in my life in order to experience sustainability in the future (and by future I mean … tomorrow). I’ve been bitter and angry for a while … (clarification, since about sophomore year of college) … and while I realized the problem was that I haven’t been comfortable in my own skin since … it never occurred to me that I had the power to change it.

Ok. Ok. I knew I had the power (I'm not a complete idiot), I just didn’t want to admit that I was the problem all along (now THAT'S stupid - and highly inefficient). It was so much easier to point fingers since others were so obviously more ignorant and destructive.

But I’m tired. I’m tired of being angry. I’m tired of being what everyone else thinks I’m going to be. And most of all, I’m tired of spending most of my days thinking that I’m capable of being a much better human being.

SO. I quit my job. Mainly because I was spending 9 hours a day in a place that fostered my negativity not to mention the 2 hours a day I spent getting there. Not good.

I decided to start my own company. Crazy right? In these bleak economic times little ol’ me thinks she can pay rent and eat off of brilliant branding solutions for other crazies who are also starting businesses in these again, “bleak economic times.” But I started thinking … maybe I’m onto something. Maybe people just need to see that SOMEONE is willing to step out there and start moving things forward. Maybe businesses could use a little boost from an energetic Gen Yer who has some decent ideas and can at least promise to stir things up a bit. Maybe people just need to stop saying business isn't going well and start saying, "we're working on some really innovative ideas that will change the course of our company forever." Maybe. Even if I end up being wrong, I feel it’s worth a try. A little insanity mixed with a drop of hope never hurt anyone.

I've also mentioned spirituality recently. Definitely a focus for the new year. I haven’t completely given up my love for dropping a few cuss words here and there, but I definitely feel more peaceful and arguably less irritable. I know God (particularly Jesus) isn’t for everyone, but He works for me. So I’m going to roll with Him for a while and see how it goes. So far so good.

And probably the most notable. My upcoming nuptials. I’m not gonna lie, life has been a little awkward for me since meeting Mr. Right. I find myself being genuinely … compassionate … lovey … and (gasp) affectionate. He would argue that these things could use a little (a lot of) work still (to which I would agree), but the mere fact that it’s occurring at all is nothing short of a miracle for me. Do you remember my post millions of years ago about being a closet compassionate? Well, I’m more prepared this year to unleash the beast. It isn’t happening overnight folks, but at least I’m being more intentional about embracing it than fighting it. You should be proud.

I think that pretty much sums it up as I watch people cringe with each tiny rain drop here in downtown L.A. Oh the poor tourist look like the apocalypse is coming (raining in L.A.?! That NEVER happens on TV!). All this to say, I’m a little nervous about 2010. Things are going to be a little uncomfortable for me (including perhaps a switch to proper capitalization on my blog), but I’m excited for the challenge. If I think of anything else worth saying before we are thrust into the new year … I’ll be sure to let you know. For now, I’m signing off and wishing you all the best! Ciao!

more growing pains

2009-12-26T16:11:00.000-08:00

it's the day after christmas and i realize how much things have changed in the past few years.

it used to be a non-negotiable that i would be spending christmas eve with my grandparents and my father's side of the family and then spend christmas morning with my mom.

that is ... until last year. i experienced my first christmas eve and christmas morning away from my family. in my entire life.

i made it to kansas the week before christmas ... just long enough to see my grandma's incredible display of christmas goodness around her home, help my mom bake her famous peanut butter cups, catch a little whiff of frozen air and make my way back to l.a. in time to finish my thesis for grad school.

it was terrible. i felt like i was missing out on something important. i felt like things were finally changing in my life since moving to this great city. and it hurt. the loss of tradition, easily accessible family members and weather below 60 degrees at a time where people sing of white christmas' (and not in reference to smog). oh, and not to mention a friendly, "merry christmas" from store clerks. that's not allowed here ... you may offend someone.

this year was supposed to be spent back home again, but things didn't work out. so i decided this was my chance to bring the traditions from home that i love to my new home in california (which i realize after this week is more true than i've ever acknowledged. my home is becoming more indicative of l.a. than kansas these days and it's time to embrace it and begin blending the two).

i baked like there was no tomorrow for my friends and family here since they don't have the privilege of tasting my mom's christmas treats. i decorated the new home with vince in the best holiday decor i could muster in honor of my grandma's winter wonderland in kansas. and i said merry christmas to people in the store. not because i am forcing my beliefs on them or intentionally disrespecting them ... but because that's what it is ... christmas. just like other days that have been designated "national holidays." like fourth of july, new years day ... thanksgiving. and because it's important to me to remember who i am and where i came from.

and thanks to technology, i was able to open gifts with my family on christmas morning from vince's parent's house over web cam. :) this year was a great reminder that i'm growing up and starting a home and a family of my own ... and it doesn't have to be heart wrenching. it just takes a little chocolate, a nice tree, remembering what the celebration is all about and a web cam or two to make things just the way they were supposed to be.

so i sit the day after christmas enjoying what's left of my first "real" christmas tree and playing my last board game with vince (because i refuse to lose again) and smiling that this year was a success. here's to a new year of merging traditions and creating new ones!

dreamer

2009-12-22T10:39:00.000-08:00

dreams are a tough thing. they suck you in ... they completely consume your thoughts and worst of all ... they require risks that make you really uncomfortable and usher every insecurity to the forefront of your being.

dreams, in theory, are freeing. they allude to 'what could be.' they give us space to imagine life as if we were created for something bigger.

but here's the thing with dreams ... they don't always come to be the way we planned. say we happen to muster the courage to actually pursue this abstract thing that we feel so strongly about and then nothing happens. then what? you keep plugging along right? because that's what people do when they believe this dream was meant for them. but then the plugging starts to seem so laborious ... useless. it feels like people who aren't as passionate or even as talented are getting the chance to do exactly what you set out to do (how many years ago now?). you start to lose your momentum ... energy ... hope.

and then it happens. someone contacts you out of nowhere and you have a chance to step into the moment you've been waiting for your entire life. except, now you're unprepared.

dreams are tricky like that. maybe that's what sets everyone a part ... there are people who will always get lucky ... even if they don't deserve it. majority of the population won't even take the first step because the first step is always the hardest and most risky. most of the people who do take the leap will quit right before their moment is presented. and the rest ... well ... they are usually the people who inspire us to dream bigger ... to believe that it's possible. and how did they do it? i'm not really sure because i'm not there yet ... but i have a feeling that they chose to believe in themselves enough to get them through all the road blocks along the way. and when they couldn't believe anymore ... they had someone else doing it for them until they got back on their feet.

dreams. they're messy and absolutely necessary for survival. and if you're lucky, you can con someone else into tagging slong with you. at least that's what i'm learning as i take one more step closer to purusing my own ...

integrate generosity

2009-12-18T14:15:00.000-08:00

that's one of my goals for 2010 ... integrating generosity.

but where to begin? there's a lot of 'need' around me.

los angeles is filled with it, the places i love across the world are filled with it. and as images fill my mind, the weight of it all leaves me feeling helpless and completely financially drained without even swiping my debit card.

so i went to CNN to check the latest news and divert my attention (because integrating generosity was already overwhelming) and i found an article about teachers. it said they spend, on average, $500 out of pocket each year on classroom supplies.

that seemed wrong to me.

here in california, we're cutting education funding (because that's the best idea our educated government officials could come up with to solve our problem of irresponsible allocation of money).

which caused me to think of my good friend who teaches in one of the most 'underpriveledged' neighborhoods in l.a. if you ask me ... she's a saint who watches her kids live in gang-centered homes on government aid. one of many teachers who have to make sure their students get at least a breakfast bar before beginning class because they come hungry and can't concetrate. she's spending, on average, $500 a year to at least give them a chance.

so i decided i'd try and do what i could. i had big ideas ... like getting everything she could possibly need until i realized i couldn't realistically do that on my own. i wasn't getting very far and was actually feelnig pretty hopeless when a random friend sent me a message asking if she could help.

she posted a flier at her work listing the classroom's wishlist of supplies and snacks and within hours had it covered.

did you get that? covered.

i got a message today saying that donations were still pouring in and that she'd need to meet me this weekend to drop off the first load. ha! load. sure beats the package i had in mind ...

there is nothing more satisfying than knowing how far a little generosity goes. whether it's the time spent putting together the pacakges for each kid, the money to purchase supplies or the donations of an existing surplus ... it changes things. if not for the kids ... for the teacher who needed this one gesture to be reminded that there are people who support her and her efforts to bring hope.

so. 2010 will be full of big changes. but if the result is anything like what happened this week, i think it'll be worth it.

spiritual health

2009-12-11T10:35:00.000-08:00

i heard that a lot when i was growing up ... "how is your walk with Jesus, Krysta?" "what has God been telling you lately, sister (from my southern baptist pastor)."

there was a lot of talk about spiritual health. not a lot of listening ... but it was certainly a common topic of conversation in the circles i ran with back home. and i've recently reopened that conversation with myself because i am no longer only responsible for myself. i will have a family in nearly four months that deserves to be healthy ... whole ...

i know i've talked about this a lot, but i've come to quite a cross roads.

i've spent three years trying to do what i didn't do well back home ... love people. which, if i were honest, has not gone as well as hoped because to really love people ... i've found that i need to love God first.

and in keeping with the theme of being honest, i'm not sure i wanted to love God. at least, not in the past few years in the way i had been trained to. wow. trained to. that's actually how i feel about my relationship with God in retrospect. either way ... God and i kind-of kept our distance. i wanted Him in a way that didn't look anything like how He was presented back in the day and i've become a bit emaciated in the process.

in short. i've come to see that God is necessary. that just loving people isn't enough and, arguable, isn't entirely possible without God because well ... there are a lot of really intollerable people out there who make loving very difficult. (especially when you have a low threshold for tolerance ... i know, i know ... working on that)

and i've also noticed that people are hurting. they're making really distructive decisions out of confusion and hopelessness. recently i've felt the world around me has been reflecting this crumbling effect that has been occuring for quite some time in my own soul. and i'm feeling partially responsible for not getting over my fear of being a robotic, judgemental christian and reinventing what a relationship with God looks like - if only for the sake of the people i've been trying so hard to love.

i have a feeling that ... at the end of the day ... people won't deny me friendship with them if i happen to say something about believing in God when they are looking for something ... anything ... to cling to.

first plan of attack: try caring less about proving to the world that christians don't have to be what you think they are (it has proven to be slightly canabalistic)

second: get real with myself and stop depriving my soul of the very thing that it needs to survive.

third: really. just do what i know is right ... for me. then it may not come as a such a shock when i talk about wanting a life that i'm not actively pursuing.

here's to a more balanced ... less anorexic spiritual diet.

turrets

2009-12-03T08:11:00.000-08:00

i wear myself out.

to the point of undeniable exhaustion.

and often, i don't stop until i collapse.

this week has been one of those weeks (already). and all because i continue making the same mistakes over and over:

failing to filter thoughts in my at verbal communication and failure to deliver them appropriately.

it's pretty consistent, actually. and when something rubs me the wrong way, i lack both the discernment (a.k.a filter) when expressing my thoughts. oh, and that's another issue ... i, quite consistently, feel the need to express my thoughts.

you see. i haven't quite grasped that not everyone involved, holds the same passion for those points of contention as i. and while it's cute that people say, "you always know where you stand with krysta" or "you never have to guess what SHE'S thinking" it points more to my character flaw of pure ... selfishness.

the fact that it appears i care more about being heard (and let's be honest - being right) doesn't bode well for my future relationships (if i have any left post tirades). i'm well aware that this very turrets-like behavior is motivated by an insanely high level of insecurity and self-doubt. i'm also fully aware that my need to "speak up" derives from this inner fear that if i don't, i'll lose a part of who i am.

and that's the disappointing part. there is a piece of me that actually believes being less of a social catastrophy would mean stripping away my identity. and for someone who isn't quite sure who she is yet ... that's kind-of interesting.

my hope is that there will be a breaking point where i realize letting go of all these ridiculous fears is necessary for me to be a less irrational individual. until then ... approach with caution and patience.

conforming

2009-11-19T14:44:00.000-08:00

i love branding.

i mean ... really love it.

and i don't write about it much because i have such strong feelings towards this particular art that words get jumbled into one incoherent mess ... kind-of like an awkward first interaction with the hottest girl/guy across the room (when you're so NOT the hottest girl/guy in the room).

i digress.

the point ... i think i'm going to start talking about it more ... if i can muster it. because branding sets you a part. it shows the world that you're unique. and the world needs more people like you to speak up ... to be yourself.

The reason they want you to fit in ... is that once you do, they can ignore you.
seth godin

officially unstuck

2009-11-10T08:24:00.000-08:00

i quit my job.

not in the crazy - postal employee kind-of way where you storm out in a tantrum, slamming every door behind you.

although i'm sure that would have made for a great story, it seemed a bit too dramatic (even for me), so i gave significant notice. the only problem, is that i quit before lining something up for myself, which is one of two things: risky or stupid.

i convinced myself that my reasons are valid. my organization is entirely too stagnant, dysfunctional and bureaucratic to really actualize the potential lying beneath the surface. which no one would negate. not only am i completely justified in that reason, i look to be terribly self-aware in saying that i'm also terrified of becoming apathetic, immobile and resistent to change. again, all of which is true.

but this is also true: i'm scared and i'm being dishonest. both of which have been historically cyclical in my personal and professional decision making processes.

my fear of staying the same ... of not learning ... of not growing, forced me to take a leap of faith three years ago and move from kansas to l.a.

without a job lined up or a clear direction for what was next.

see a pattern?

i convinced myself (and most everyone else) that i was moving to pursue a master's degree with a non profit i had fallin in love with. i told my boss i would be leaving in order to pursue higher education ambitions ... and to change the world. i told my church i was off to serve in a greater capacity. and i told my family not to worry ... that i knew what i was doing.

here's the thing. i thought i had to have a reason. one that made everyone feel like i wasn't going off the deep end and sabotaging my life. i didn't want them to think i was being irresponsible or naive. but i was also hoping i would be a success story of how important taking risks are if we are ever to evolve.

the sad thing is ... there was really nothing profound about my move other than ... i did it and survived. the truth is, i didn't really need a reason to move, other than ... "i feel like experiencing something new."

my fear of what people would think led me to be dishonest with myself and everyone else ... in that situation and my in my current situation.

i'm bored. i need direction. i need a challenge. i want to live and work in l.a. i'm tired of commuting. i want to feel connected. and, yes, i'm annoyed with my organization. but mostly, this just isn't what i want to be doing with my life ... my career.

since that sounds less sexy and melodramatic, i opted for placing blame while i figured out a 'real' answer for my departure.

i told a mentor the other day that i'm afraid of being 'stuck' where i am. his response: "you're never stuck if you're good." and then it hit me ... the only thing standing in between reality and the reality i want is me. and i have to believe i am better than that.

so. here's to being real with yourself and pursuing the life you want ... even if it doesn't always make sense.

Just.Say.Yes.

2009-10-20T09:55:00.000-07:00

So about 2 years ago there was this guy I saw across the way at a pool party. He was mysterious. He had this presence about him that instantly drew me to him. And I couldn't figure out how I was going to get some face time.

As I sat on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water with the other girls, I casually asked my friend who he was. She raved about how sweet this man of mystery was and how much she loved having him around.

Hm.

I'm a pretty forward girl. If I see something I want, I'm usually not afraid to ask for it. But this time, things were different.

I hid behind my sunglasses and pretended not to be watching his every move. I also pretended my placement both in the pool and later at the dinner table wasn't strategic in getting directly in his line of vision.

Here's something you need to know men ... we know you notice us. Why? Because we're smart enough to make sure you don't have any other options. It's a game we, as a species, have mastered. And we're proud of it.

When you pretend not to notice us, we abort mission and forget you even exist. When you notice us, pretend to be interested, and then don't ask us out ... we get nasty.

I digress.

This guy was incredible. He had a quiet confidence that actually made me a little weak in the knees. He made me feel comfortable in my own skin. He told me about his love for filmmaking, cooking and hosting people at his home. And to be honest, I had already chalked the day up to a huge success.

Why? Because for one full afternoon, I had kept his attention. And it was nice. But I had very low expectations for this to go beyond the allotted time of the party.

Until that fateful afternoon, no one had asked me out since I had moved to L.A. Did you catch that? No one. I was fresh meat that had already expired by that point. I was nearing my one-year anniversary of being an Angelina and another wave of hot, talented transplants had already infiltrated our city and into the line of vision of my prospects.

So you must imagine my surprise when he walked up to me at the end of the pool party and asked for my number and invited (or told) me to join him for dinner at his place the next weekend.

If I were given more time to think about it, I would probably have danced around the issue because ... well ... I didn't know how to accept an invitation. I didn't have much practice with that part. Usually, I hung out with people in a group long enough that everyone else just told you you were dating and that was it.

But he asked. And that was far more than anyone else had the balls to do. So I said, yes.

Men: Ask.Her.Out.
Women: Just.Say.Yes.

And like my friend Jason mentioned, this doesn't have to be 'the one.' Probably isn't. But how sucky would it be if you missed out on the possibility just because you chickened out?

So. This week ladies ... if a guy has the guts to ask you out and they're not a creeper ... just.say.yes.

Stop waiting for the douche bag with the cool hair and fancy clothes to approach you to ask for anything more than a pen to write the bimbo's number down who was in line before you. There's probably a guy across the way that notices you and is about to ask you to go on one of the best dates you've ever been on. And I think he deserves a chance.

Here's to the brave men out there who ask.her.out ... and the women who just.say.yes.

risky business

2009-10-12T07:53:00.000-07:00

if you don't read seth godin's blog ... you should. he's brilliant. the marketing guru himself has been a staple in my daily blog readings for years. as of late, i haven't had the chance to read much of anything and decided to play a little blog roulette for one last bout of validation that some risky decisions i'm about to make are sane to those who i admire. thanks seth for reminding me that actual risks are what set a part those who actualize their potential and those who don't. from the man himself:

Apparent risk and actual risk

There are people who I will never encounter in a restaurant.
That's because when these people go out for dinner, they go to chain restaurants. These are the tourists in New York who seek out the familiar Olive Garden instead of walking down the street to Pure.

That's fine. It's a personal choice.

But it got me thinking about the difference between apparent and actual risk, and how that choice affects just about everything we do.

The concierge at a fancy hotel spends her time helping tourists and business travelers avoid apparent risk. She'll book the boring, defensible, consistent tour, not the crazy guy who's actually a trained architect and a dissident. She'll recommend the restaurant from Zagats, not from Chowhound.

Apparent risk is what keeps someone working at a big company, even if it's doing layoffs. It feels safer to stay there than to do the (apparently) insanely risky thing and start a new venture.

Apparent risk is what gets someone who is afraid of plane crashes to drive, even though driving is more dangerous.

Apparent risk is avoiding the chance that people will laugh at you and instead backing yourself into the very real possibility that you're going to become obsolete or irrelevant.
When things get interesting is when the apparently risky is demonstrably safer than the actually risky. That's when we sometimes become uncomfortable enough with our reliance on the apparent to focus on the actual. Think about that the next time they make you take off your shoes at the airport.

26

2009-10-05T16:30:00.000-07:00

twenty six is an odd age. an age where you're supposed to know what you want to do when you grow up and be on the trajectory of accomplishing 'what you want to do when you grow up.' an age where the 30-somethings who have the job you want when you grow up won't give you the necessary responsibilities to move forward because you're 'still a kid.' not that i have experience with that or anything.

humph.

but it's also an age when ... at least for me ... some things have really begun to matter. like other people. like things other than getting to the corner office faster than you ... oh ... and being the youngest to get there.

twenty six to me has been profound for many reasons. but i think it all culminated with a proposal nearly six months ago that publicly stated i care about something ... someone ... else more than myself. and it was a week ago today, in my twenty sixth year, that i realized plans change. you don't always get what you want, what you've always dreamed of, what you hoped for in life. that sometimes life isn't fair nor does it often make sense.

at twenty six, i finally understand what it means to risk everything.

and at twenty six, one of my high school classmates knows what it's like to lose her husband and the father of their two-year-old daughter, who also happened to be in my graduating class, to a demented criminal set to ambush police officers in my hometown.

it is in this year that i realize nothing is for sure. that the dreams i have with vince are not guaranteed, but that i have a choice to risk it anyway ... in the event that everything does work out the way we imagined. i have a choice to live intentionally. to love passionately. and to risk freely. and suddenly, the corner office seems rather existential.

i don't know why this particular loss created such an emotional wake in my soul. maybe it's the fact that i can now imagine what it must be like to lose the man you love. to lose the dream that 'we' will raise a beautiful child and now accept that 'i' will. that 'we' will no longer paint the shingles, plan vacations, buy a new couch, but 'i' will go on to do those things without you. because apparently life goes on no matter what devastation it may bring your way.

maybe that's it.

either way ... it woke me up. it reminded me that i don't have time to cower to the what ifs and the selfish ambition to try so hard to do life by myself. it reminded me that you i can't always have an escape plan. it reminded me that i need community ... a real community that if ever 'we' became 'i,' i would not be alone. because whatever happens to us ... to me ... is their problem to.

and there is something very profound in that. not comforting. not warm and fuzzy. but very raw and freeing.

if anything, brian and sarah, your love for each other will forever resonate in my heart. it will serve as a reminder that today i have a choice to make each morning that i wake up. to either show up completely or hold back in fear of the unexpected that may (or may not) be lurking around the corner.

so. twenty six. for sarah, it will be the year that changed her life forever. the year that brought an unexplainable amount of pain and suffering that most people will never experience in their lifetime ... let alone in their mid twenties. and in that grief, this twenty-six-year-old will go on to say that she learned love is stronger than death ... which undoubtedly go on to be described as the catalyst that changed her life forever.

thank you both for living a compelling life. and sweet natalie, carry on your parent's legacy of faith, hope and love ... it's a story worth living.

irrational season

2009-09-29T14:27:00.001-07:00

From "The Irrational Season" by Madeleine L'Engle

But ultimately there comes a moment when a decision must be made. Ultimately two people who love each other must ask themselves how much they hope for as their love grows and deepens, and how much risk they are willing to take…It is indeed a fearful gamble…Because it is the nature of love to create, a marriage itself is something which has to be created, so that, together we become a new creature.

To marry is the biggest risk in human relations that a person can take…If we commit ourselves to one person for life this is not, as many people think, a rejection of freedom; rather it demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent; into that love which is not possession, but participation…It takes a lifetime to learn another person…When love is not possession, but participation, then it is part of that co-creation which is our human calling, and which implies such risk that it is often rejected.

community

2009-09-14T13:35:00.001-07:00

alice [my roommate] and i had a good conversation last week about being intentional in regards to community.

it's interesting that one of the more noticeable things i miss about kansas is how easy community seems to come. i suppose if i look back with a more realistic lens i would say there were many periods that community didn't come as easy as i'm remembering. but now that i know how accessible/available it was in comparison to my life in l.a. ... i kind-of wish i could go back and change things.

i wish i would have developed habits of spending time with people more consistently (outside of work, school and church). i wish i wouldn't have been so concerned about money and the $3 i would 'lose' by going to a local coffee shop with friends a few times a week ... or (God-forbid) a movie or dinner with the girls.

what alice and i kept coming back to is that community requires sacrifice. back home, i was too selective. i only wanted community with a certain group of people (and they all happened to be cheap as well, so it worked out nicely). but i could have had more meaningful relationships if i tried harder.

now, my vice is time and the dreaded routine. i pride myself in being fairly unpredictable. yet, a routine may just be the thing i need in order to feel more connected.

the people in my building who have dogs know each other. they pick up their dog's poo together over good conversation and coffee in the park because their dogs require a routine that brings them together ... to pick up poo ... daily.

there are coffee shops where i make an occasional appearance where people seem to know each other because that's where they spend time each morning.

but dogs and coffee runs require commitment. and i'd rather believe that community was easier in kansas than admit that it has never been easy for me because i never really made it a priority.

kind-of a mood changer to realize i expect others to go out of their way to invite me into their lives when i haven't made significant efforts to create space for them in mine.

brief thoughts on duvall incident

2009-09-11T16:20:00.000-07:00

this is what i find most disturbing about duvall's exposed sexual escapades this week.

the gentleman he was offering illicit information to (regarding his grossly unethical behavior with female lobbyists) didn't seem at all phased by his crude acts.

here we have a man with a wife, kids and a civic responsibility to engage in political activity that follows an ethical process, telling another man (with pride) that he is having these little escapades with female lobbyists. yet, the gentleman doesn't once ask, "dude ... you have a wife. what the hell are you doing whoring around? furthermore, what are you thinking pulling this kind of activity into our organization? do you seriously think that i find your behavior appropriate? do you honestly believe this information will make me respect you more? for the love man. get a life. in the meantime, i'm reporting you for being an embarrassment to this assembly. "

well. apparently that conversation never occurred to mr. duvall's bff in the assembly. because he just sat there. probably astounded, curious, and impressed that this aged, fat, unattractive individual could score any action from someone who hadn't previously vowed (prior to finding out how big of a douche bag he'd become) to lay next to him for the rest of his life.

i think we can all agree mr. duvall is in the wrong.

but my bigger fear is that we're not concerned about his little buddy that didn't seem to question his activity in the first place. i think that's terrifying. really terrifying. and if you don't feel the same ... then i guess the problem is much larger than the california legislator's office.

little ponds v. vast oceans

2009-08-31T13:10:00.000-07:00

things have been insane lately. and by lately i mean since approximately the last weekend of july.

nonstop. draining. completely invasive of my valuable spare time. all out ... madness.

and, usually, i wouldn't have it any other way.

i mean, let's face it. when i get bored ... things just get ugly. i find it much easier to doubt my self worth when i'm not contributing to the DGP in an substantial way. and i find motivation difficult without having to multi-task 'important' details of my career and social life.

but when vince and i took a little trip to tennessee last weekend on a complete whim, i realized how worn out i've become.

in general.

i'm not sure if it was the fresh air, open roads, southern hospitality or the exciting thunderstorms we made our way through ... but something about that place made my soul at ease.

things were busy but not overwhelming. there seemed to be a rhythm to how things operated that echoed what humans should be able to thrive within. and i liked it.

i'm not sure if i'd last there for long before getting the itch to move to another big city, but it got me thinking.

maybe people here [l.a.] try to hard. i mean, i love l.a., don't get me wrong. but there is something that just doesn't seem quite right about the way things have been lately. and it made me wonder if there is more to life ... if maybe there is a happy medium. a place where all the people who have traveled the world and did their time in big cities go to live. can you imagine? a place where sojourners and adventurers and thinkers and artists go to breathe when they're content with what they've experienced.

i just wonder if there's a happy medium. that's all. and maybe that happy medium only exists in the intangible depths of your soul ... when you can make any place a place where you find peace. who knows. i'm starting to think it's a part of 'growing up' ... that weird time bomb inside my body that says it's about that time to settle down and take it easy instead of wearing the weight of the world on your shoulders and questing to 'save the planet.'

i hate that i'm even saying i may like to throw in the towel and start living a more simple life because it doesn't seem to sit right. but i do know that things are changing for me ... and i'm seeing the value in less being more. and that ... well ... that could lead to an entirely new outlook on the trajectory of this little life of mine i've been trying to strategically plan for so long.

just say something

2009-08-20T13:54:00.001-07:00

i was reminded yesterday why it's so important that i devote time and energy into mastering the art of authentic communication.

when i first started my job at chapman, a particular woman on my team took me under her wing and guided me through some uneasy situations that were occurring in our workplace.

we ate pastrami sandwiches for lunch and talked about family, what life was like for her 'back in the day' when she was a student at this university and what we felt about our jobs.

we looked out for each other because our relationship was more than just an 8-5 kind-of relationship.

she became a friend ... someone i could trust to tell me the truth.

but then her relationship with someone who was less than kind to me made me feel unsafe. insecure. and while it sound childish, i was threatened by their positions in the organization and didn't feel that i was needed anymore.

my posture changed.

and i stopped pursuing the relationship for fear that, just by association, she had become like her new friend.

and i wasn't until yesterday ... more than a year later ... working within hundreds of feet of one another ... that she confronted me.

she was hurt and i was shocked.

and it was in that moment that i realized the combination of my own insecurities, built-in mechanism for assuming the worst and lack of relational intelligence had - in a split second decision over a year ago - damaged a relationship.

so today, i walk with a mission:

to have the hard conversations that are necessary for healthy relationships with the people around me. to speak up and ask the right questions before making assumption. and to stop caring so much about what other people think of me that it hurts the people i care about most.

amazing how difficult we make communicating.

greatness

2009-08-11T08:43:00.000-07:00

i heard a song on my way into work by the fray.

when i heard the song, i jumped to a moment a few months back when someone said at a band rehearsal, "i used to sing with the fray when they were just a local band back in colorado."

which then led me down a quick path of remembering how annoyed i get with name dropping. which then led me down a path of the countless number of times i've done the same thing ...

which then caused me to think, "why do we do that? why do we feel that being associated with recognizable people makes us cooler? are we really that desperate?"

and then it occurred to me: people are attracted to talent. people are also attracted to fame ... no question. but more often than not ... i think people are genuinely attracted to greatness.

it happens with music a lot. because music moves people. and for most women ... musicians seem to take on this irresistible quality that, had they just been a passerby on the street, would not warrant a second glance, let alone our bras, fanatic tears and screams (don't judge ... i've never thrown a bra on stage, but i've seen it happen. and when i was a teenager, i certainly had my fair share of crying and screaming at more than one teeny bopper boy band appearance. again. don't judge. you know you did it too.) but it also happens with film, business, medicine, academe, firefighters, humanitarians ...

and that's how my mind works. in less than 2 minutes, my mind was able to process the first two bars of a song, that then triggered a walk down memory lane, that then led to irritation, that then led to self-reflection and an ultimate conclusion about humanity that i think is at least worth blogging about.

greatness.

we want to be associated with those who have seemed to mastered the art because deep down ... we know that we are capable of it too. and maybe, just maybe, if we spent enough time around those who have been able to exercise their greatness ... it'll unleash ours in the process.

view

2009-08-06T08:27:00.000-07:00

i've heard that what you see depends on where you sit.

that couldn't be more true for my spiritual journey.

what i saw from my comfy, predictable life in my hometown ... where everything and everyone i knew was within a 12 mile radius ... was a God who cared deeply for me. a God that was passionate about the local church and sunday services. a God that really enjoyed showing up to our church because, let's face it, we had the best music in the city and most hip, young preacher at our innovative post-modern service.

from where i sat ... God really loved me and created me to do something special for humanity. but the closer i seemed to get to Him, the more disenchanted i became with the place i had grown to know Him. it seemed so ... not-the-only-part-of-the-equation. something was missing. i just had no idea that spending more time with Him would actually place me in a different seat that would inevitably cause me to see Him in a completely different way than when i had before.

i'm not going to pretend that i've been spending a lot of time with God. because i haven't. and it's not because i don't want to ... it's just that i'm not really sure how anymore. which i've said before ... but i still think these things take time. you know ... the change paradigms.

i'm not into the idea that burying myself in the bible is going to bring the hope to humanity that Christ intended. i mean, Jesus didn't have the bible. and neither did the disciples (not sure if they were literate anyway ... which brings up a good point ... how do all the illiterate people of the world "draw near" to God?). i digress. per usual.

the point is ... i'm thinking that perhaps we're supposed to be the story of God in the present. erwin talked about this at mosaic this weekend in reference to one of our core values: mission is why the church exists. some of these comments of his got be thinking:

sometimes we underestimate what God can do for us as humans (in regards to spending so much of our spiritual journey talking about the 'after life').

when you're with Jesus, your world gets much bigger.

i don't think they [disciples] expected to care about the world.

my prayer is that i will be so connected to you that it will be easy to connect others to you. that that connection will connect us to humanity and their needs.

forgive us for replacing your presence with presentations ... intimacy with techniques.

so this is where i am. with my world being much bigger than when everything i knew was within a short drive (or walk). when everything i knew about God was housed in a church building and select christian sub-culture conferences.

i'm not saying that my world is bigger because i'm with Jesus ... although perhaps that's what has happened i just haven't quite given Him the credit yet. but i am saying that what i was hearing from Him before i moved here was that the world was much bigger than what i knew. and what i've seen and continue to experience on a daily basis requires more of me than nights alone with my bible, trendy worship services (that i won't lie ... i still have an affinity for) and small groups that meet to talk about how we can reach "them."

from where i sit ... my world needs me to show up. because, so long as i'm connected to a God who cares about humanity ... my life will be the way they know He exists. now if i could only find a way that feels most natural to me from this seat to connect ...

it's happening

2009-08-05T09:17:00.001-07:00

it has been nearly four months since vince and i became the engaged couple that we are. you'd think that the proposal weekend, the new house and the wedding planning would usher a collective sense of, "i'm going to be a bride."

but it hasn't. at least ... not really.

until this weekend.

at our engagement party, both family and friends spoke of our love from their varying vantage points. there were tears, laughs and moments of complete and utter awkwardness for vince and i as we waited in the silence between 'speeches.'

the unexpected showering of words made me feel exposed. naked. i was reminded in that moment that people are watching us. and who we are together will either spark a sense of hope and genuine love or, at the very least, only remind them of all the relationships they have witnessed to date.

something that was repeated multiple times in the speeches of our friends and family was, "i hope to some day have the love that you have." and with each repetition of that phrase, slight flashbacks of times when i thought the same thing of my friends who had found love raced through my mind.

and i realized ... i'm the bride this time.

the following day was spent looking for 'the dress' with a two of my bridesmaids and my mom. as i stepped out of the dressing room and onto the 'pedestal' in front of the giant mirror, i couldn't seem to communicate to my brain that this was actually happening. my friend sarah was far more enthusiastic about the experience than i until i stepped out for the last time in a dress i felt represented me and all my confused wonder.

i smiled and hopped onto the pedestal and watched as the girls snapped their cameras furiously. no tears, no drama, no gasps ... just a collective agreement that this dress made me look like a girl who was about to walk down the isle.

the experience wasn't what i always thought it would be. and that's probably because it was so surreal (and, honestly, a bit overwhelming). by the time i had gotten to the final dress, i wanted to walk out of the store with it and check it off my 'wedding to-do list.' but more than anything ... i just wanted vince to be there. i wanted to share the experience with him. i wanted him to tell me what he thought of the gowns. and i wanted to pick the one that made his face light up ... because that's all i care about.

so when we all went back to the new house later that night, nothing made me happier than to open the gifts we received from our party the night before ... with him.

i realized (in between the cards and wrapping paper) that this whole wedding thing doesn't interest me near as much as being with the guy who started this circus with a simple little question a few months ago. ;) and i think i'd be more than happy to forgo my chance at a big white gown and all that comes with it, if it meant that i could go home to vince tonight, have a nice dinner, watch a movie, fall asleep on the couch and start our lives tomorrow morning.

childhood dreams :: interview with tanner

2009-07-27T10:37:00.001-07:00

[note: for those of you who don't know my brother, tanner, he is a 24-year-old imagineer for walt disney. his dream, since i can remember, has been to design rides for theme parks (which i've learned is different from rides built for amusement parks). his dedication has both inspired and irritated me. his ability to be technical and creative simultaneously confused me. but as i watch him create moments for others to experience joy - even if it's just for a few minutes strapped to the seat of a roller coaster - i am reminded that this is what it looks like to see someone else living the life they were meant to live. and for this, i am annoyed by his brilliance. so without further ado ... i introduce tanner ... undoubtedly one of the most intelligent and focused individuals i know]

interview:
K: What is your first memory of loving the process of creating rides? Do you remember how your passion evolved?
T: In 4th or 5th grade, my best friend Keith Mehner and I drew a layout of an imaginary roller coaster. He liked NASA and I liked roller coasters, so the roller coaster was themed like a space mission with a shuttle as the ride vehicle. The coaster had a launch at the beginning, a slingshot around a planet, and even a portion where it jumped the track to hop over an asteroid. Who knows what else was on that drawing, but it was the first time I remember role-playing as if it was a real job to design rides. I loved that it had a theme (that the roller coaster elements went through motions to represent events in the story), and I love that I did the drawing with a friend (I have always found more energy and creativity in coming up with ideas as a team). The passion for roller coaster design evolved into a passion for rides, and then for theme park attractions in general. I learned about how stories were the foundation of theme park attractions, and how a ride or show can deliver a message or tap into emotions.

K: How does dreaming about your 'dream job' look now that you have the one you've imagined for so long?
T: Reaching my dream job (or at least my dream workplace) quickly forced me to step back and re-evaluate my core dream. What about this job did I dream so much about? Am I really doing what I dreamed about now that I'm here? I find that no matter where I am, I continue dreaming about a more specific vision. It took a big vision to get me here, and now I dream in more specific and focused visions.

K: What has been most rewarding or even exciting for you ... the pursuit or the actual life within the dream?
T: The season you are NOT in always seems to be more rewarding. When I was pursuing, it felt like the job would be more rewarding than the chasing. Now, I look back and daydream about memories of the pursuit. But there is no doubt that the actual life is just as rewarding. It is very exciting to be able to ride around in a vehicle and suddenly flash back to a time when I saw pictures of Imagineers testing vehicles and dreamed about this day; or to walk through the empty Magic Kingdom at night and flashback to a time when I dreamed about roaming through the parks on vacation. Reaching a milestone in the career dream gives you the chance to enjoy the memories AND enjoy creating new visions.

a side note from tanner ... must read! :)

An attempt at a summary...
I'll try an analogy that may be helpful... I think chasing a career dream is a bit like seeing a beautiful, exotic car pass by and running after it. You chase it because it looks cool, and if it's fairly exclusive, you probably won't have another chance for it to come around again. You run hard enough to catch up with it and you jump in. It's an immediate change. It's a bit more relaxing because all of a sudden you don't have to run anymore. Things slow down for a minute. You enjoy it. Then, after a minute, you realize that in all your time chasing a good-looking car you didn't spend much time thinking where it was heading or where it would take you if you got in. So, now you are in the car. You start thinking about the interior of the car that you've never seen and wondering if it's nice enough inside to stay for a long ride. You look around and wonder if you'll get along with the other people in the car with you. You have to figure out where you hope the car will go now and how you can get the others in the car on-board with that vision. You're not in this on your own anymore. It involves more relationships now and more politics. And from the inside, it takes energy to remember what was so good-looking about the car when you were chasing it. But that doesn't take away from the reward of being inside and on your way to exciting new places.

thanks to tanner for his example of living within your dreams and how to keep moving forward.

i'm back ... sort of ...

2009-07-21T08:16:00.000-07:00

i haven't been writing consistently for one major reason: i've had far too many things preoccupying my time (and mind) to spend any extra effort over analyzing my life and plunging myself into the dark pits of angst over this thing or that.

i know you're disappointed since this blog has probably been such a source of daily inspiration to you. (note extreme sarcasm)

and instead of boring you with daily workplace drama or business tid-bits that i've come to realize aren't as universally tantalizing as i would hope (mainly in order to justify my own enthusiasm for such topics), i'm going to begin another 'series.'

(can you tell i've had entirely too much caffeine today already?? note my poor grammar, most notably the run-on sentences)

i digress.

this new series, inspired by a lovely little tune playing in my local starbucks this morning, will be about dreams. childhood dreams specifically ... and how they never really die.

i'll be introducing you to my grandpa krenzer, my mother, my brother tanner, and a host of other people who remind me that maybe there really is something to our childlike ambitions. maybe ... just maybe ... they're worth revisiting for a chance to reconnect with who we were meant to be ...

meetings

2009-07-20T16:06:00.000-07:00

a few thoughts on meetings/business from "death by meetings," by patrick lencioni:

why we go into business:
to engage in discussions where you can use your analytical skills, your experience, and your intuition to solve a big problem.

common issue:
we get so off track with what's going to happen next quarter or next year that we don't really come to any conclusions about what we should be doing next week. or even tomorrow, for that matter!

thank you mr. lencioni. these two comments alone reminded of me of why i'm passionate about my job and why it infuriates me to be here. good reminder that it's my responsibility to create spaces conducive to real growth and movement in an organizational setting.

morning text

2009-07-15T10:32:00.000-07:00

i have a sore throat. which progressively worsened from 3 p.m. yesterday to the time i woke up this morning.

i realized that kissing vince until i'm better wouldn't be an option because neither of us can afford to miss work right now. which then sent me down the path of hysterics.

my mind automatically jumped to outbreak. remember that movie? and i started playing out my morbid death while (not-so-ironically) my throat began to hurt even worse.

in a cold sweat, i texted vince:

me: if i were quarantined, like in outbreak, would you get in the plastic bubble with me or stay outside?

vince: i'd get in! i love bubbles. haha

that's why i'm marrying this man.

invincible

2009-07-13T16:04:00.000-07:00

i just found out today (on facebook no less) that a guy i used to play in a band with was found dead in his home this morning.

usually hearing about deaths brings up the conversation that life is short. that we should seize the day. that you never know when your last breath will be.

which is all true, but not super fitting of my feelings right now.

right now i feel an overwhelming amount of guilt. confusion. and, not gonna lie, a little bit of fear.

guilt because i shouldn't have lost contact with him when i knew things had a tendency to get dicy in his life. sometimes it's just easier to pull the distance card and settle for a few facebook chats here and there in exchange for a real conversation beyond superficiality.

confusion as to how it got to this point when things seemed to going better for him ... no thanks to those of us who abandoned him when things got a little sketchy and complicated.

and fear because ... well ... this reminds me of how much i try to hide from in order to keep things less messy in my life. it reminds me that i avoid the difficult conversations with people i care about in order to maintain my existing approval rate. it reminds me that sometimes you have to choose to love people no matter how it seems.

because right now ... i'd rather he had known people were willing to fight for him than to have ended this alone.

for those of you who DID choose to stand by him and love him ... thank you for keeping him around long enough for me to have experienced some of his best moments.

who you are

2009-07-10T14:29:00.000-07:00

a lot has been happening lately ...

but what i've noticed is that i'm more energized.

that's the beauty of having the opportunity to exercise your talents and show people what you're capable of.

you just feel more alive. awake, seemingly for the first time in months ... perhaps years.

i wonder how much different the world would be if we were all given a chance to be who we were created to be?

dear los angeles ...

2009-07-08T09:57:00.001-07:00

at first glance you weren't as welcoming as i'd hoped. i guess i imagined you to be more like your more sophisticated brother, new york.

but you just aren't. you're dirty. noisy. busy. fully of cars. and traffic. and ... millions of pretentious film students.

when i first met you, i swore i would never revisit you messy awesomeness and most certainly would check you off the list of places to live.

i was wrong. and i'm sorry.

when i came crawling back to you a little more than three years ago (remember that? my utter desperation? my sense of hope? my willingness to give you another chance because ... let's be honest ... you were my only option for a change of scenery?), i found a place that made my heart flutter.

i think you know what i'm talking about. there is this night club in the center of your city that has been the catalyst for transformation to people all over the world ... including myself.

out of it pours the music of people who have a story to tell. the melody sweeps through the empty streets of downtown and into the souls of the broken.

songs that have been carried to forgotten lands starving for hope ... for something to believe in.

these songs have become letters. letters to be addressed to the people of your city, but ones that we've come to find resonate with all of humanity.

this nightclub is where a group of people gather to listen to what you are trying to say and meets with the sole purpose of having a meaningful conversation back.

this nightclub is the hub of a movement. a place where nearly every corner of the world is represented. and those representatives, myself included, spend only a few months breathing in your smog, fighting the traffic and calling your people our family before we're calling ourselves angelinos.

so, los angeles. i'm here to tell you that i get it now. i get that you were trying to tell me something all along ... that there is much more to you than what meets the eye. and i want you to know that i'm here to stay.

dear los angeles ...

2009-07-06T18:24:00.000-07:00

a cup of sugar

2009-07-05T13:07:00.000-07:00

i borrowed a cup of sugar from a neighbor friday. actually, it was a half cup of sugar, but that's really beside the point.

i'm not sure what was more startling ... the fact that i was baking on my day off, or the fact that i stepped into one of the biggest cliches in the book.

i always wondered what it would be like to be able to borrow a literal cup of sugar from a neighbor. in my entire 23 years of living in kansas, i never did it. perhaps a lawnmower or vacuum, but never a cup of sugar. and those exchanges never really got me past the front (or garage) door. but at least i knew i could ask without feeling awkward or intrusive.

this situation however, called for desperate measures. (ha ... measures ... get it?! ... ok)

as i was pouring all the ingredients into my mixing bowl, i began feeling a little overwhelmed that my ipod dock seemed to be in a full on battle with the noise coming from the busy los angeles street below my loft. and within minutes, i felt like my day off was being invaded by noise and clutter that i hadn't invited. my simple and unassuming task of baking a batch of cupcakes for a fourth of july party now became a full blown mental marathon. i started whisking in anger and sadness that not one ounce of quietness or a friendly exchange had been a part of my day.

until ... i realized i was a half cup of sugar short of making this a worth-while endeavor.

i panicked.

and then i remembered seeing a neighbor pulling into the parking garage the same time i did a few hours earlier and thought, "maybe she has sugar."

so i texted her and asked if i could borrow a cup of sugar.

she said, "come on down!"

with a nerdish grin as if i had just been chosen to be on the price is right, i grabbed my measuring cup and heading down the elevator. she was on the phone when i got there so we exchanged smiles and mouthed a few words to each other as she listened to the person on the other end of her blue tooth. when she handed back the measuring cup, she mouthed, "are you sure that's all you need?" and i mouthed, "yep. that's great! thank you (with overly animated facial expressions)." we hugged and i headed back to the elevator.

when i got on the elevator, three other people were inside already and i found myself spewing the words (with surprising glee), "i borrowed a cup of sugar from a neighbor!!"

the couple in the elevator just looked at each other like they shared a mutual feeling of my insanity and the other girl just smiled. when the couple left, the girl next to me said, "you actually know someone in this building that you can borrow sugar from? it sounds like such a cliche."

and while i said, "yes," with a proud smile on my face, a part of me actually felt bad that i practically live on top of hundreds of other people who are craving someone to know in case they need something ... whether it's a cup of sugar or just a friendly chat over a cup of coffee ... that i turned around and said, "my name is krysta. i live in apartment 413 if you ever need to borrow anything."

[note: sometimes (a lot of times) the things in my head are so real that i actually thing they happened. such is the case with what i said after saying "yes." i'm really hoping i told her my name and apartment number, but because i'm not super quick on my feet and the elevator door was closing on us ... i'm willing to bet that i didn't. which brings me to the life lesson here ...]

i don't know if i'll ever see her again, but there are three things i learned from that very brief exchange.

1. we all need community. all of us.
2. i need to be far more intentional about creating space to connect with the people around me.
3. i need to stock up on sugar ... you know ... just in case.

the end ... the beginning

2009-06-29T13:16:00.000-07:00

i've said before that i kind-of feel like i'm in limbo. i think i said it in the months between giving my resignation and packing up for california. i think i've said it for my entire (almost) three years of living in california. and i say it now as a newly engaged person waiting to take on my new ... and oh-so-intimidating ... role of mrs. vincent masciale.

eek.

with certainty, i am struggling to say good bye to the old me. the me that dreamed of finding 'mr. right' and wondered (with shocking regularity) what it would be like to have someone actually make a commitment to spending the rest of their life with me. and to be perfectly honest ... that loss of hopeful anxiety for a future partner and dreaming big dreams as to what that life would look like (mostly because i knew it wasn't happening anytime soon) is really sad.

there was a time when life was about dreaming big, hollywood esque dreams. mainly because the chances of them happening were so slim. i mean, i had kind-of become accustomed to making romantic wish lists and never checking anything off.

until i made a move ... literally.

and now i'm checking things off one-by-one. and my list is getting smaller and more intimidating.

i keep thinking, "is this it? is this the end of my hopeful anxiety of this fairy tale life? is this the end of the girl-talks with friends at impromptu sleepovers?"

and then i slap myself and say, "woe is me for having a fiance and a life that even i drool over." i mean really. here i am crying over the pending death of krysta rinke all because i'm afraid that krysta masciale might not have as much to look forward to. i keep wondering if krysta masciale will do what krysta rinke is doing right now five years from now ... remembering the good ole days when things were so fresh and new and hopeful? or will she end up losing herself in a new name, piles of laundry and diapers?

the truth is. i don't know the answer to the future. but i know that i have to stop fearing that i'll become the wife and possibly mother that somewhere along the way stopped dreaming and hoping for a life of romance and adventure. and perhaps, be more concerned with the steps i'm taking now to loosen the reigns and allow God to turn my life upside down, yet again. because in all reality, where i am today started with one leap of faith that led me to the life i dreamed about five years ago in my apartment in kansas.

who would have thought it would all come true? heh. more shocking ... who would have thought i'd be scared to step into the life of my dreams after so many years of wishing they'd come true? i guess it's time to start a new list ...

secret to making new friends ...

2009-06-23T11:15:00.000-07:00

have a common interest.

i've been trying to become friends with certain people my entire life. you know, the 'untouchables.' i don't know if i liked the challenge or was just trying to validate my own existence by begging people into adding me to their buddy list. either way, it's obvious why i failed ... over and over again.

i never really had anything in common with those people. other than perhaps, that we went to the same school. or church. or had a class together (in elementary school). and i find myself running into a similar problem as a grown adult.

but here's what i had the privilege of observing this weekend at a campsite nestled perfectly in the middle of a pine-tree infested mountainside:

our camping friends like to go bouldering. if you don't know what that means, it's ok. neither did i. it means you climb a boulder ... with your bare hands. pretty incredible once you realize how difficult it actually is. anyway, they had stumbled upon a boulder that seemed to be all the rave with the other 'boulder climbing' folk. we had been there alone for a while, but then a few more people started to make there way to this lone rock. before i know it, they were exchanging stories, discovering common connections and experiences, laughing and cheering each other on as they worked together to conquer this giant rock. they had their own language. their own way of identifying with each other as fellow climbers.

they seemed to all be members of the same tribe without having ever met each other.

i used to see it with harley riders when i went out with my dad and grandpa on their bikes. there was a hand signal flashed whenever you'd pass another hog owner. i picked it up pretty fast and instantly felt i had been accepted into the tribe-o-riders. i feel it every time i meet someone here in l.a. from kansas (or any neighboring state other than nebraska). i feel it every time i see someone wearing my alma mater's gear. but here's the trick ...

what you have in common actually has to mean something to you ... it has to be a part of who you are ... or else it doesn't last.

when we walked away from the boulder and headed down the dirt road, my friend ryan said, "i hope i can be like that guy some day. he has lived everywhere that i either want to live or have lived, he is totally in shape and has to be like 45 or 50 and such a good climber ... he was so cool."

the guy wouldn't have made such an impression if ryan didn't care as much about adventure sports as he does. he wouldn't have made such an impression if ryan wasn't already on the path to becoming the kind of climber/adventurer/globe trotter that this guy was. and that's perhaps the greatest secret of all: you'll never be something you're not. and when you realize that ... trying to fit in with the boulder-climbing, camping junkies (when really, you just like being outside and eating hobo stew under the stars) becomes less about trying so hard and more about appreciating the ties that bind us ... whatever your poison may be.

[thanks to ruthi, ryan and the oceans for letting us step into your world of adventure. it was so refreshing]

it commences

2009-06-18T15:08:00.000-07:00

wedding freak-out mode commenced this afternoon as i read through our venue contract.

i feel like my signature on this document is asking for more than the marriage itself. it's so unwavering. i mean, what if i decide i want to have the wedding elsewhere in 5 months (which can't really happen because nothing is as cheap as this and we all know i'm a tight wad). nonetheless, there is something about the never getting my deposit back that really makes me nervous.

i don't like that something could happen to the venue and i wouldn't be able to get my money back. i don't like that i can't control the conditions surrounding one of the most important days of my life.

i don't like not being in control. period. there ... i said it.

and this contract is just another reminder that i can't control everything. that i need to learn how to roll with the punches. and that sometimes trying too hard to be in control gets in the way of the things that really matter.

you know, like being with the people who love vince and i as we commit our lives to one another ... for as long as we live. little things like that.

by the way ... you tell me if i should be freaking out with a future husband as adorable as this and a venue as glorious as the one below. [virtual slaps welcome]

phases

2009-06-17T13:55:00.000-07:00

this is simply a continuation of the conversation i've been having on this blog for months. all the question i've been mulling over regarding spirituality, expectations, where my life is headed, growing up, etc ... are starting to boil down to a few things.

1. who am i ... really?
2. what was i created to do?
3. where do i go from here to create the life i was made for?

vince and i were invited to be a part of a leadership experience at mosaic for the next 7 weeks. last night was our first 'experience' at it left me dumbfounded. i'm still reeling from a few questions that were posed last night in our leadership discussion:

when was the moment when you realized, "if i don't do it ... no one else will?" where you said, "i HAVE to do this."

uh.

i thought about that for a while, hoping i didn't have to speak first in my group. and by the time it was my turn, i still didn't really have an answer ... so i kind-of picked the first thing that came to my mind. actually, that's a lie. i picked the second thing that came to my mind ... because the first thing was in the context of the church leadership, and i thought that would come across as a typical 'Sunday School' answer.

but if i'm honest. the last time i really felt like i was supposed to do something ... the last time i thought, "i HAVE to do this" was when i was en route to L.A. since then, i've been hopping from one project to the next trying to find my place.

we busted out the Bible last night (been a while since i've done that) and some really cool things came out that made me look at my 'leadership funk' in a new way. we talked about how the scriptures assume we have zeal, it just wants to make sure we're informed ... moving forward with knowledge ... channeling our passion appropriately. one comment hank made was, "if i blaze my sword, i better know what i'm swinging at and why."

that stuck with me.

because i'm really good at blazing my sword in hopes of hitting ANYTHING worth fighting for. and let me tell you ... i've found a lot of things worth fighting for since i came to l.a. ... but nothing that i'm willing to do on my own. which brings me to the final point from last night that has been ringing in my brain for nearly 24 hours:

people only follow people they know will do it without them.

so, for now, i'm trying to get back to the basics (per usual). i'm trying to remember the moments when people believed in me (whether it was just this weekend during a conversation with my incredible fiance or 20 years ago at church camp) ... because those moments will inevitably direct me towards that thing that i just can't walk away from.

in the meantime, there are a handful of people in my life who need to know that they are capable of greatness. and i think, for now, it's my job to make sure they know that. who knows, i may be the only person that will ever tell them.

honky tonk

2009-06-16T15:20:00.000-07:00

let this be an enormous disclaimer: i'm not technically a country girl. i didn't grow up on a farm. i didn't own horses ... for long. and the closest i came to really living the life of 'country folk' was my few year stint in elementary school where i not only tried my hand at barrel racing, but also (along with my brother) became adorned in premium western wear. red ropers and belt buckles included. yes. there are photos for proof (which you will never see). but that doesn't make me 'country' and i am fully aware of that as i write this.

i have to say, however, that since i moved to l.a., i have more frequent daydreams about 'country life' than i do about 'city life.' could be the grass is greener complex since the opposite was true back in the days of starry nights, dirt roads and endless fields. and, as i rode the train today ... passing field of buildings and smog ... i listened to all the country music i had allowed myself to put on my iPhone (i think there were three songs total - because iPhone and country music doesn't seem synonymous.)

anyway, it made me smile. it reminded me of my grandma's country music star quizzes in the car.

[radio playing hit country music]
grandma: alright kids ... who is this?
krysta: dolly parton.

[radio plays another hit country song]
grandma: who's this?
krysta/tanner [droning]: randy travis ...

those were fun times. when i memorized every single word to the garth brooks song, "american honky tonk bar association" because it's the closest thing to rap music i had heard. and i'll have you know, it was dang cool to be able to sing that song all the way through without skipping a beat. ladies and gentlemen, i went to his concert twice in one week when i was in high school. reba mcentire was my first CD purchase. fancy ... dang good song (as good as songs about mothers sending their daughters off to be prostitutes can be).

more than anything though, it reminded me of times when things were simple. because i was, well, a kid. and for some reason ... today ... i missed being a kid. red ropers and all.

dear self ...

2009-06-10T11:37:00.000-07:00

i was reading through my journal from elementary school and part of middle school this morning. you know, just to add a bit of comic relief to my morning routine. and with my morning cup of joe and fro in tow ... i have this to say to my prepubescent self:

dearest prepubescent krysta,

i know you feel like your hair is a wild beast that lacks the desire and capabilities of being tamed. and i know the combination of your giant fro, lanky purple legs, small chest and gangly front teeth make you feel a bit awkward and insecure.

but let me say this. one day in high school ... you will discover that your curls can be managed with an appropriate amount of gel. it won't look perfect, but people will eventually stop referring to you as frizzo. you will still spend countless hours trying to straighten your hair with a blow dryer and giant round brush every-so-often, but it'll look much better because you will have also discovered palmade .

when you get to college, you are introduced to a flat iron, that you will claim to have saved your self-esteem as you know it. it makes your hair look like everyone else's who secretly wish they had your natural curls to provide volume that you try so desperately to rid yourself of. your boyfriends and superficial friends will compliment you every time your hair is straight, so you keep doing it ... slaving away to keep frizzo at bay.

but dearest krysta, one day ... when you least expect it (and when you haven't actually taken the time to burn the crap out of your hair that morning), a guy named vince will ask if he can bring you some home made food. you will say yes, knowing that this giant mop that most people call hair can not be dealt with before his arrival. so you make a small disclaimer about the frizzy monstrosity and wait until he arrives. and krysta ... from that day forward, he will ask you why you don't wear your hair in all its frizzy, curly glory every day. you will still fight the good fight a few times a week to make it look more 'presentable,' but one day ... a day like today ... you will wear your crazy mop with pride. because it's you.

with love and gobs of hair gel,
your 26-year-old self

p.s. - you eventually grow out of your training bra (although it takes a while), your legs will always be purple (which is always helpful to break the ice with new people), and your teeth actually straighten up without braces. trust me ... you'll turn out just fine.

in medias res :: reconciling the two

2009-06-05T11:18:00.000-07:00

there is a reason traveling has become such a necessity for me in the recent years. and i used to think it was because of this sick sense of validation i received from "going away for business." it seemed regal. something i had always wanted to say. i began to think it was because everything was covered by my employer (which ... let's face it ... isn't too far from the truth). but what i realized on my latest trip to washington, d.c. was that i craved the space to just exist. no real responsibility, no real expectations. i just had to show up.

don delillo once wrote, "to be a tourist is to escape accountability. errors and failing don't cling to you the way they do back home. you're able to drift across continents and languages, suspending the operation of sound thought. tourism is the march of stupidity. you're expected to be stupid. the entire mechanism of the host country is geared to travelers acting stupidly. you walk around dazed, squinting into fold-out maps. being stupid is the pattern, the level and the norm. you can exist on this level for weeks and months without reprimand or dire consequence. together with thousands, you are granted immunities and broad freedoms. there is nothing to think about but the next shapeless event."

when i read this passage from a random book i picked up at a local dupont circle bookstore, i almost died. finally, someone knew how i felt ... someone had captured my increasing desire to lack the responsibility i secretly place on myself in the dark corners of my mind.

two days after i returned from d.c., i walked across the stage at graduation to receive my masters degree. a week after that, vince and i would close on our first home and begin a week of home-owner's boot camp.

and as i sit here ... my mind wanders to places where i can escape the question i, only a few months ago, thought i had the strength to answer ... what next? and the truth is ... i'm not sure i ever really thought past this point in my life.

as new dreams fill my mind with each room in the new house ... with each glance at my ring ... with each reminder of the endless opportunity in front of me ... i pause and beg for one more weekend away to introduce the old krysta, who set so many expectations for her adult self, to the adult krysta who met them and is ready to move forward.

who would have thought all of my dreams would have come true in their own way and led me to this place. this place of saying goodbye to the old life and trying to welcome the new without feeling guilty. because really ... i think my 6, 13, 17 and 22 year old self would be really proud that she made it to this point. and it's time to celebrate that.

i wish i came with a manual

2009-05-27T11:12:00.000-07:00

i need some direction.

in fact, i need A LOT of direction. and the lack of direction i have, i'm certain is driven by the lack of focus i have which is driven by my ever so increasing attention deficit in regards to personal interests and career goals. all of which could possibly be traced back to the fact that i don't really know what it is that i am most passionate.

i used to think i knew. you know, back in the day when i was always angry about some injustice in the church, workplace, family or greater midwest region in which i was so familiar. but that was when i only had a handful of things to get me all roweled up.

now ... i seem to have become an expert in the area of intolerance. as i've seen more of the world, met more of the world's citizens and expanded my net of knowledge, my interest for solving all the world's problems has actually become diluted and my soul prerogative seems to have changed to ridding the world of stupidity, disrespect and apathy. (thus, i have become a part of the problem i have identified and not the solution)

as i sit in my windowless office, drinking what is the poorest excuse for coffee since the break room coffee pot at my previous job, i find myself at a very real and terrifying cross-road.

a point where a part of me still believes i was made to do something significant ... that i(we) was actually created for greatness ... to contribute uniquely to the world ... to change the course of human history by creating a future worth stepping into.

there is a less child-like part of me who, in her mature and unyielding realism, reminds her less grown up self that there are plenty of other people out there who are much more talented, brilliant, qualified, ambitious, passionate, intentional, etc. than they will ever be. and even if i did choose something in which to devote my life, who's to say that i would be the right person for the job? (says the antagonistic mature self)

the crazy part about this whole situation (other than yours truly), is that i have lost (or perhaps never had) a real sense of purpose. i don't have that "one thing" that i've wanted to do since i was 4.(i feel like i've said this before and i'm a bit disappointed things haven't progressed in this area)

i've been reading anne lamott's book bird by bird. good stuff ... you should read it. i came across a few passages that were particularly intriguing:

"you can see the underlying essence only when you strip away the busyness and then some surprising connections appear." i can see how this would be helpful in my current situation. however, i've always equated busyness with productivity. and so long as i'm busy ... even if i'm busy doing nothing of real value ... i feel like i'm achieving SOMETHING. kind-of annoying since those are exactly the types of people i am so easily frustrated by on a daily basis.

but then she says something else that was perhaps even more poignant than the last excerpt:

"you can't compare your insides to other people's outsides."

hm. and that's where i have to leave you. because really, all this confusion and mass chaos coexisting in my small little brain, has come down to one thing: expectations.

and this idea that perhaps all of my spastic decisions to involve myself in a little of everything as opposed to a few things that i would die for is all based on the premise of the perceived expectations i feel have been placed on my life. and to put it plainly, it has led me not to a path of deeply felt accomplishment or ambition, but rather to an ever mounting dissatisfaction in the land of never-good-enough.

which i'm tired of. and i know you're tired of hearing about. so we're going to work on that. and hopefully begin to build some more realistic expectations for my life and my life's work.

one step at a time ...

an outdoor affair

2009-05-11T13:47:00.000-07:00

i don't like walls. or boundaries. or being in confined spaces (whether emotional, spiritual or physical).

i've built plenty of walls in my time. some were useful, most ... not. i've learned that boundaries have a purpose ... sometimes. and i've noticed that being in confined spaces are good every once in a while for building character.

but i've also come to value the importance of tearing down, rebuilding and expanding.

which is why my wedding will be outside. my wedding will be outside because things just seem more real there. the sound of the waves crashing as opposed to an air conditioner vent churning in the background. beams of sunlight as opposed to florescents. the fresh scent of the pacific air as opposed to the recycled staleness of an old building.

my wedding will be outside because that's where i realized God is everywhere. it's where my heart has found peace and my mind renewal on the bumpy road of my spiritual journey.

my wedding will be outside because this event is to signify union and a new beginning. and i can't do that in a place that makes me wonder if we really do believe that God exists beyond the walls of our exclusive religious rituals and narrow corridors.

this outdoor affair is to symbolize faith, hope and love through the relationship vince and i have built ... which, by the way, continues to defy all reason and requires much more space for creativity, innovation and random turns along the way than any location we could find in los angeles.

beyond my own issues with immovable objects ... i feel that everyone deserves at least one day to be around people who love them, to soak in the beauty around them and just have some space to process all the questions and thoughts that have been floating around for far too long.

and i'm hoping our outdoor affair will be the perfect place for those conversations to happen.

2009-04-23T15:26:00.000-07:00

ok. this may be long (big surprise) but there are two things i need to address before moving on.

1. my perception of sex and my own sexuality was significantly influenced by the church and the people who were a part of it.
2. i have a tremendous amount of hope moving forward (which will be explained by another divine encounter in NYC).

let's start with the first thing. i'll make this as brief as possible because i'll most likely touch on it in detail in my section about the church. as i mentioned before, i already had issues with my physical appearance. as i grew up, however, the 'sex talks' in middle school and high school youth groups on wednesday nights increased and i began to believe that not only was it something that had come to define me, but also something that was causing the boys my age to "stumble." again, lies or not, these are the messages that made their way into my head and later found a home in my heart.

appropriate dress was always discussed (and probably rightfully so) and we were asked to rid ourselves of anything (cds included) that caused us to think lustful thoughts about our fellow youth group members. now, while i understand the concept here ... i think it's ridiculous ... in retrospect, of course. just because i threw away my 'bump and grind' music, doesn't mean i wouldn't hear it at a school dance or in a friend's car after school. and just because i came to school dressed in a business suit, doesn't mean that teenage boys aren't going to find some part of my anatomy to drool over. come on. have you walked through the halls of a high school lately? do you remember being a teenager with raging hormones?

i found a way to suppress mine because i thought somehow my youth pastor would be able to pull up a spreadsheet of my "lustful" thoughts, so i just put sex and anything remotely related in a category typically reserved for prostitutes and dirty old men.

then, after a being in a very long and very destructive relationship with a fellow worship leader, i became even more disgusted with anything remotely connected with sexual activity. i felt used. i felt deceived. and worse, i was more convinced than ever that sex was something that people used to manipulate and destroy others.

but here's where grace comes in.

anne lamott says, "grace meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us."

here's the thing. had it not been for grace ... i wouldn't be able to step into my upcoming marriage as a healthy individual in terms of intimacy (at all levels). had it not been for vince's warm character and my close friends' honesty, i wouldn't be able to say that i see sex and intimacy as a beautiful thing.

...marriage is always about something bigger than itself. It's two people, in their unconditionally loving embrace of each other, showing each other in flesh and blood what God is like. these two are naked, and they feel no shame. [rob bell :: sex God]

let's be honest. i haven't always been that great at letting people see the real me. you know ... the stuff under all the clothes and layers of protection i've thrown up around my heart. so this naked stuff didn't sit well with me at first ...

to pursue being naked, you have to believe that this person is worth getting to know for the rest of your lives. being naked is peeling back the layers, conversation after conversation, experience after experience, year after year. it's rooted in a belief that the soul has infinite depth and you'll never get to the bottom of it. [rob bell :: sex God]

but this. this is something i can get behind. there's something freeing about the continued newness of making myself available to someone who has chosen to love me forever. and it wasn't until this month that i began to really believe that this whole sex stuff was actually coming full circle for me and finding redemption in my jagged little soul.

it's kind-of nice how things work out ... really. because the weekend of the proposal, i found myself writing this about my new fiance ...

april 18, 2009 (the day after he popped the question)i learned something new about my fiance today. as we walked around the village, his eyes lit up when we stumbled upon what could only be explained as the largest costume shop on the planet. i felt like i had met him for the first time. his childlike enthusiasm exposed me to a side of him that doesn't have the chance to come out very often. i learned of his childhood love of batman and experienced a side of my future husband that i will never forget. when i asked him, "why batman and not spider man or something?" he said, "because batman was just a regular guy. he didn't have superpowers. so he made me believe that anyone could be a hero."

i love this. i love this about vince. i love this about our relationship. and i love this about the way my life has been transformed in the past few years. it's a reminder of how things are supposed to be when something that was intended for good isn't in the wrong hands. and an even greater glimpse at what this whole sex thing was really meant to represent to begin with ... a connection to a life that we were all created for.

2009-04-22T11:13:00.000-07:00

it's only because the events of this weekend are finally setting in that i'm finally able to write.

after an incredibly beautiful three days in NYC, i returned to l.a. with a new title, prompted by a simple question (which was met with a less simple answer), a magical ring and an entirely new trajectory for my life.

i may talk about wedding magazines and girlish dreams later because, after all, that's what us girls do after prince charming whisks us away on his noble steed and asks us to spend the rest of our lives with him. but the more i allow myself to think about what really happened that day ... the more i have come to realize that things do happen for a reason ... and all at the right time.

"do you know why i love this place so much?" i asked vince as we sat together on the grass enjoying our wine and snacks pre-proposal. "because every great city needs a great park. there's something about this place that rejuvenates your soul. i mean, the city can be so cruel. it'll eat you alive if you let it. but when you walk into this park, the sounds of the city fade and you seem to get lost in this little oasis. i love it! look at how happy everyone looks ..."

i watched with hopeful eyes as hundreds of people, scattered about this lawn, reconnected with nature. friends. lovers. family. throwing frisbees, reading novels and taking in good conversations and the warm sun.

i watched as we all become reconnected with our own humanity. right there on the plush green grass of central park.

in that space, hope actually set in so deep that perhaps this is the life we were created for, that vince's offer to prolong this feeling into an eternity together completely took my breath away. literally.

this will be the moment i will forever cherish where all of time seemed to stand still and heaven literally seemed so close to earth that i caught a glimpse of how things were meant to be.

and even now, as i type, i look at the ring on my finger that will forever signify the strength of love and the power of hope in a world that is dying to restore things back to the way they were meant to be.

it couldn't have been more perfect.

(thank you vince for bringing me hope, for being my love and, ultimately, for choosing me ... it's already the greatest honor of my life to be called your fiance.)

2009-04-14T14:08:00.000-07:00

"picture a group of high school boys standing by their lockers when a girl walks by. one of the boys asks, "how do you rate that?" they then take turns assigning numerical values to the various parts of her anatomy, discussing in great detail how they evaluate her physical attributes. this scenerio happens all the time, all over the world, every day. it's a pastime for some. there are television shows and websites and endless discussions all devoted to deciding who's hot and who's not. it's an industry, a form of entertainment, a culture. and it's everywhere. the problem is that "that" is actually a "she." a person. a woman. with a name, a history, with feelings. it seems harmless until you're that girl - and then it hurts. it's degrading. it's violating. it does something to a person's soul." [rob bell :: sex God]

here's the deal guys. i would love to give you my sob story (which isn't really a sob story, but to be honest, isn't worth elaborating on right now). i would love to give you the exact scenarios that made me feel like a 'that.' but i think it's self-explanatory.

what i want to talk about is how i've interpreted something that was intended for good ... for joy ... and made it evil and repulsive. as a small disclaimer: i don't think the things that have happened in my life were the sole cause of this unfortunate situation. you can take one look at our world and see in great clarity that things are not as they were intended. so with that in mind, i can move forward.

it's easy for a she/he to become a that when we are grossly disconnected from each other. which brings me to a brilliant interpretation of sexuality that has created just enough space for me to begin seeing things differently.

"scholars believe that the word sex is related to the latin word secare, which means 'to sever, to amputate, or to disconnect from the whole.' this is where we get words like sect, section, dissect, bisect.our sexuality then, has two dimensions. first, our sexuality is our awareness of how profoundly we're severed and cut off and disconnected. second, our sexuality is all of the ways we go about trying to reconnect." [rob bell :: sex God]

this is the definition i'm working with. because it makes so much sense.

to me.

i've allowed the disconnection others feel (and consequently their need to devalue others) to create a giant rift in my soul. there has been so much discontent for so long that when i have a moment of connectivity (whether at a concert, at church, in a coffee shop with my friends, at a rally in the middle of the street), i feel overwhelmed. as if, for some reason, i've been missing out on something all along.

and i think this is where i get to my point. sexuality, for me, is not simply what happens between the sheets. it's merely a small percentage. "our sexuality is all of the ways we strive to reconnect with our world, with each other and with God."

up until this point, the way i have tried to connect with the world has been through the eyes of a 'that.' because, as i have learned ... lies quickly turn into gross generalizations and assumptions and how i act actually comes out of who i believe i am. and right now, i believe i am a she who longs for things to be as they were intended. which leads me not into the bedroom, but into a greater thirst for intimacy with the world in which i live, the people people around me and the God i have become so disconnected from.

2009-04-09T13:40:00.000-07:00

ok. i think i'm finally at a point where i can talk about this sex thing without saying something i don't really mean. i do that a lot. and i usually own it because ... well ... it's embarrassing (and seemingly bipolar) to change your mind in mid argument when it's clear you were so passionate about the first stance.

i do this a lot through gross generalization when really ... i'm thinking of a specific incident on a given topic. topics that usually get me all fired up have to do with sex and the church. and sometimes one causes immediate negative feelings about the other, which is where i begin today.

when someone asks me (typically in disbelief) why i haven't had sex, my response used to be: "because i don't want to have sex before i'm married." which, in kansas, translates as, "oh. you're a christian." cool. we've reached an understanding without me having to awkwardly explain my position on such matters.

now, having been in l.a. for nearly three years, i have learned that my staple answer no longer suffices. people become intrigued by the 26-year-old virgin who has been with her boyfriend for more than a year and half who has never slept with him. they want explanations. not an essay, just a solid answer. and the whole, "i don't want to have sex before i'm married" thing begs the response of, "why?"

let me get this straight. the people who ask "why?" are not being rude. they're genuinely curious. because this whole not having sex thing when you're in a serious relationship doesn't make sense to them. because the natural context isn't, "oh, it's because you believe in a God who asks you to regard your body as a temple. who says that He created sex to be enjoyed in the context of marriage." and that's not their fault. and to be honest ... i'm glad they ask why. because it wasn't until about six months ago, that i realized i wasn't having sex because i'm a follower of Christ ...

i'm not having sex because:
a) sex has always been communicated/portrayed as something negative (both in the church and in my relationships with those around me)
b) having sex only quadruples my chance of getting pregnant (which, isn't exactly a priority of mine)

now, what concerns me most about these two responses is that it has nothing to do with God. that, sex, in my mind, has only one correlation with the God i claim to follow: judgment and condemnation for those who engage in intercourse before marriage. the act itself, in my mind, has not been considered an expression of something that has been found, rather something that is forbidden because of the long-term devastation it may bring you.

my goal is to get back to the truth on this manner as it exists in my life. rob bell once said, "what we do comes out of who we believe we are." i've chosen to abstain, not because i believe God has my best interests at hand, but because i was afraid of getting in trouble. i have chosen to not engage in sex for 26 years because i believed that this was the only way i could maintain power in past relationships. and i chose, most importantly, to abstain because the thought of having a child with most of the guys i dated was nauseating. not only because they were boys themselves, but because i actually believed i wouldn't make a good enough mother.

well, all that has changed. and now, i have begun to unravel the layers of sexuality that were intended to connect me intimately to the world around me ... because i have to believe that all this sex stuff has to do with much more than what happens between the sheets.

2009-04-01T08:44:00.000-07:00

i'm on a plane from wichita back to l.a. all i can see are the never-ending squares of brown and green crops that make my home town look like a patchwork quilt from up here.

this most recent trip to kansas revealed the simplistic nature of a place i once found overwhelmingly complex. it's incredible how little effort it used to take to turn simplicity into my nemesis.

for the first time (perhaps ever) i allowed myself to admit that there is a part of me that craves the simplicity of the place i spent most of my life fighting. this part of me wishes (or more accurately LONGS) to have everyone i know so easily accessible. i would love to have the community i had and still have in wichita. it's comforting. it brings me joy. it's effortless. no traffic, no parking issues, no google maps to figure out the fastest or least congested route. just a quick drive across town or walk down the street and you're there. in their homes ... filled with family and friends to make it warm and cozy. the warmth doesn't end there. it makes its way onto the streets and into the hardware stores and restaurants. genuine smiles and hellos are exchanged without thought and i am overcome with a sense of security and belonging to this place i traded in for hardened face to ward off the begging and silence to to spare myself from uncomfortable conversations with strangers.

this time in kansas, i didn't get antsy. maybe i've finally come to grips with some of the baggage in a way that makes kansas safe again. or maybe i've committed (more than i thought i had) to the idea that there really is nothing left for me to prove anymore - or i was just to tired to do that this time around. i actually felt confident in my answer to the infamous question that family and friends tend to ask with each return visit, "so, what's next?" my answer ... "i'm not really sure."

and that's the truth.

i don't have a plan. i do know, after holding precious little emery oliver and meeting the more grown-up versions of my friend's once toddler children, that being a mother is something i'd like to pursue some day. it's a thought i've been entertaining in attempts to fill my future with something other than a blank slab and ambiguous undertones. but actually holding my best friend's baby made it more tangible. more real. and far less stifling than i had made it out to be. in fact, life made a little more sense with him in my arms, which led me to believe that perhaps some day ... this wouldn't be out of the question for my own life.

i know after having monday morning coffee with my old boss and co-workers that there is a way to do business that not only generates revenue but also brings out the best in people. i became reacquainted with work-ethic and midwest charm. from the receptionist who seemed so excited to see me to the shareholders who joked about l.a's influence on my decision to get a nose ring while offering my job back ... if that's, in fact, why i was there.

i leave this time with a deeper appreciation for my family and their hospitality. the exchange of laughter and tears reminded me that i am an adult now. which is both empowering and devastating at the same time.

i don't have a plan, but i know that plane rides, airports, conversations and kansas are all much more beautiful when vince is there. i found kansas to be a place i could return to with a new perspective because he represents the me that is becoming. i realized this trip that my life is wherever vince is. and that's something that i would never have admitted to if i had a plan ... or ... had simply followed the one i was so married to for so long.

i know that i was lucky to have been raised in a place that values community, family, hard work, ethics and space in which to enjoy the little things in life. in a place like kansas, time move just slow enough for longer conversations and an extra cup of coffee. it was in the obscure time warp three years ago that i was able to have enough conversations and enough coffee to prepare me for a life where everything moves too fast for the things i didn't even know i valued.

so. all that to say ... this all seemed like perfect timing. my life slowed down long enough to actually hear what my old life was saying all along. and that's a really beautiful thing. i move forward from here without a plan and oh so intentional in bringing a little bit of kansas to the big city!

2009-03-26T16:06:00.000-07:00

"whatever we expect with confidence becomes our own self-fulfilling prophecy." brian tracy

i really wish this weren't true. because what this says is: whatever i actually believe about myself ... well ... becomes who i am. and that puts the responsibility back on me to change the way others see me and more importantly, how i see myself, in order to witness significant change occur in my life.

i can blame a lot of people, because let's face it .. people suck sometimes. but i'm the only one who can make me angry, so it's time to start being more real.

so why do i feel undeserving of being 'chosen' by someone?

a few different reasons i suppose. most of which involve stories centered around memories of how someone else treated me or what they may have said.

for instance, in middle school and high school, i always had a ton of in-school friends. the popular kids let me sit at their table (which gave me some hallway cred), the choir kids would hang out with me during competitions and the debate/forensics nerds would geek out with me on our weekend trips. life was good. so long as i was in school. but when i got home ... none of those people called me. i wasn't invited to parties. and i certainly wasn't asked to go to prom. come to think of it ... i asked (begged) both of my prom dates to come with me. oh, there was one out-of-state prom that i attended and someone from another school that asked me to come to his, but is that what a girl needs to do to get a date?! i had this one birthday party that a lot of people came to, but they all left at the same time to go to a much more high-profile gig while my handful of close friends stayed behind to help clean the mess the others had made.

i remember being invited to an annual birthday party of another girl i was 'friends' with a few years in a row. she had the biggest slumber parties ever. and i always found myself camping out in a closet or random bathroom with another girl with our oreos and cheetos, talking about how uncomfortable we felt because we clearly were the 'filler' girls.

the point is. i didn't entirely feel as if the people around me really wanted me there. if it were their choice ... they would have chosen an alternative. this was the case with my natural father, boyfriends that would come later and church groups that i would find myself leading, yet have no community to turn to when things got really bad. but those situations don't have to be my crutch forever.

in fact, it can't be. because that crutch is unreliable. and in the end, i will have alienated everyone in my life who have chosen me ... just because i'm me ... all because i expect them to be like the people who never cared to choose me to begin with.

i've decided that's not fair. i've also decided that, if i simply choose to believe in myself as much as those who have chosen me do ... i'll begin to expect, with confidence, greater things. perhaps, brian tracy was onto something ...

2009-03-25T13:50:00.000-07:00

in one day.

i've spent the past week mulling over my thoughts and feelings regarding this topic of self-disclosure and proactively searching for a way to put some ink to this blank page of the new script i am hoping to write for myself. as with most projects, however, it's not coming along as quickly or easily as i had hoped.

it may be the fact that i can't just 'start over' so-to-speak. i have a history. and that history is a part of who i am. and while i'm learning that it doesn't define me, it's still important to sift through all the information and pick the parts that were meant to enhance my story, not keep it from being written. (which, as i've mentioned, has been a bit difficult to discern)

i was going to start the week off with an introduction of these four in-depth discussions: why kissing never leads to sex, why Bible verses still make me cringe: and other thoughts on faith, why i can't believe you and great expectations (i know, i know ... it's already a book title, but i had no other choice). sounds super intriguing right?

i thought so too. until i began explaining the sex topic to my good friend jen (mentioned in my last post) and she came back with, "do you feel chosen?"

uh. that sent me down so many roads, i can't even begin to map out where i was or how i got there. she was asking specifically if i felt chosen by vince in our relationship, and although i could answer honestly that i do, i couldn't figure out why a voice inside of my kept saying, "but i don't know why he would ..."

it was then that i realized these issues of sex, church, trust and lofty (or unnecessary) expectations are primarily centered around the idea that i have yet to learn to love myself. that, through all of the memories that have made these topics so sensitive in my life, the underlying theme is that i believe i am not worth being chosen. and, to be honest, i have actually created a person to project as myself that i thought would be much more desirable. super exhausting to think about ... i know ... so we'll save that for another day.

the second bird, killed by miss korey oskins (great friend, counselor and communicator extraordinaire) was: "do you think i would be disappointed in you if you didn't do the things you have always told me about?"

for some reason, i honestly thought she would be. and now that i think of it, that's not reasonable at all. she was so sincere when she asked the question and even more so when she responded to my silence with, "i wouldn't. i'd be inspired by anything you do that would make you happy."

with that, i've decided that my four issues will still be discussed in great detail. but i'm hoping to reclaim the pieces of each issue that brings me joy (or was meant to bring joy) ... and place them onto my blank page, leaving behind what was only intended for destruction and sadness. i think this is the way i want to lay the foundation of my new story ... with truth, redemption and joy ...

2009-03-18T16:12:00.001-07:00

i think it needs to be reiterated that these posts are a way for me to process how i have lived my life, based on how i once interpreted events from long ago.

the reason i have chosen to blog about them on the world wide web is to begin a process of healing that will hopefully come from dialog with others who have experienced similar fates or simply wish to feel the freedom of admitting that the stories we intentionally or unintentionally have written for ourselves is not the one that was intended for our lives. it is also my way of 'getting this all on paper' so-to-speak. it makes my life somehow ... more real. and the pain that still lingers as i allow myself to expose the feelings associated with these memories causes me to believe that this whole 'series' may be just the medicine i need to feel human again.

because, truth be told, i learned how to shut down much earlier than necessary. what occurred in the living rooms of both my parent's and grandparent's home convinced me i had reason and complete permission to become hardened in order to protect myself from ever feeling that way again. once i had written that protection clause into my script ... there was no chance for anyone who entered my life from that point on. and can i tell you a secret? i’ve found that i feel much lighter having documented these memories in the past two entries. It’s almost as if writing them down gave me the freedom i needed to be able to let go of them … to walk away from them without feeling like i’d forget them if i didn’t have such a tight grip on them. maybe i’ve always known that they were my excuse for acting the way i have for so long. only time will tell i suppose.

my friend jen wallace called me the night i posted the last entry and (in her matter-of-fact and straight-to-the-point voice) said, "so, i have a thought for you about your blog today."

when jen starts a conversation like that ... you have no choice but to listen. well, at least if you're me. because that's the way we roll. ;)

i digress ... she continues: "see. this is what happens when you continue telling yourself a story. you begin 'already listening.' anything people do or say, regardless of their intention, becomes proof of what you already believe about yourself. or about them. it's not [always] their fault. you MADE them fall into your script. not on purpose, of course, but it's your story. it's sad. back then, you didn't know you were writing a story."

it's going to take me longer than this week to accept what she said. there is more truth to what she said than I really know what to do with and i'm not sure i'm quite ready to deal with the responsibility of owning the truth that this is MY story. that it is no longer ok (if i am to be a healthy, mature adult) to blame others for the pain in my life. and i would have posted this yesterday, but it’s really hard to write a blog entry about ‘processing life’ when you are still trying to figure out how to do it yourself! so, i thought adding an excerpt from a book i read recently would at least set a foundation for how i’ve chosen (at this point in my journey) to sift through the messiness in order to better understand myself and move towards truly forgiving those who are a part of this script of mine.

crucial conversations :: kerry patterson, joseph granny, ron mcmillan and al switzler

… just after we observe what others do and just before we feel some emotion about it, we tell ourselves a story. that is, we add meaning to the action we observed. to the simple behavior we add motive … although this complicates things a bit, it also gives us hope. since we and only we are telling the story, we can take back control of our own emotions by telling a different story.

stories explain what’s going on. they are interpretations of the facts. they help explain what we see and hear. they’re theories we use to explain why, how and what. … once they’re told, they stories control us. they control how we feel and how we act. but it doesn’t have to be this way. we can tell different stories and break the loop. in fact, until we tell different stories, we cannot break the loop.

so this is it. this is where i make a conscious effort to rewrite my story. but first … i have to uncover the story that has already been written … which is where you find me today …

2009-03-17T12:04:00.000-07:00

scattered memories exist in my subconscious of the years after that first recollection of my life and the ones i am about to share. most of them full of creative play dates with my brother (sorry tanner for dressing you up like a girl) and meeting new friends at school (which, if you can believe, was difficult for me as i actually used to be quiet. long gone are those days!).

it was in these years of early development, however, that evil lies began to build a home that my innocent mind simply could not combat and that, truthfully, my adult mind has yet to let go of. sometimes it's difficult to part with things you know? they can be a source of comfort and stability even if they're not healthy. while these memories were the perfect breeding ground for terribly destructive thoughts, i can't seem to bring myself to throw them away because they have become a part of who i am. without these lies ... who might i be? who might i become? and most terrifying ... when the lies have been stripped away, will i find their stains to be so deep that they really have become my identity?

my last post contained a memory that only began the script. really, from that point things could have gone in a million different directions. but there were a few other incidents ... small and potentially insignificant ... that determined the direction and form these lies would take in my life. so they continue ...

i'm in my grandparent's living room ... a place of comfort and belonging ... i remember my aunt (whom i adored and worshiped as a child often does of their high school and college aged relatives) sitting in front of the active fireplace with her 80s perm, lace cuffed leggings and double-layered-multi-colored scrunchy socks. she was my hero in all of her neon glory. i don't remember doing anything specific in that moment, although plenty of home videos would allude to me prancing around, bossing my little brother around or doing both simultaneously with such grace ;) tanner, undoubtedly in his adorable four-year-old body was definitely either coloring (completely inside the lines), doing one of those wood puzzles in record time ... again ... or playing 'go fish.' what was unusual about this particular moment, however, was one phrase that has stayed with me my entire life ... "these kids are going to make millions. krysta will be a model and tanner will be a genius ..."

again, i don't have the context because i was quite young and was probably too self-indulged or distracted to sit long enough for the adult conversation that was taking place, but what i did hear began my quest to prove myself and my worth. it also began a very unhealthy pattern of despising compliments of my appearance and feeling as if i were being objectified (as will be touched upon in a later post). all i knew is that i was capable of being more. i knew that life would be grand if i could be a concert pianist, a writer with her big chief tablet in tow(or at least help my bff in elementary school become one), the first woman president or a really cool interior designer. from that point on, i would know how to gain the affection of those who were in the room that night ... i just had to stay pretty. but would spend the next twenty years proving that i'm more.

but the next morning, again, as with most of my memories, i found joy ... removing the confusion of my little mind that would later develop into great pain. but not yet! grandpa, tanner and i rose early, ventured to the local donut shop where many of the elderly gathered for their morning coffee and newspaper exchanges (hey, who else gets up that early on a saturday?) and shared laughter, donut holes, long johns and that yummy hot chocolate. we'd always take some back for grandma and marcia (my fabulous 80s aunt) ... who, probably to this day, loathes the memory of her punk niece and nephew waking her up so early every other saturday morning with overwhelming excitement for the maple long john that awaited her upstairs.

fast forward: tanner and i had been accepted into a magnet school in our neighborhood. it was the latest and the greatest in education in our district and we were pumped to be in the first batch of students. tanner had already managed to skip a grade (that conversation was a doosy with the rents) and by year two i'm pretty sure he was in like two (probably 5) grades higher in math than me. and to make matters worse the boy i was convinced i was in love with in fifth grade knew that i was the one whose younger brother was smarter than her. how embarrassing! but life went on and my chance to shine was quickly approaching. time came to write an autobiography. my divine moment. the moment i would prove my intelligence and gain a new title that would hopefully bump supermodel a few notches below my name. (of course being typecast the same year as vana white in our school play didn't help, but that was ancient history ... i had a mission!)

after slaving away at my life's work, printing each page on those stupid printers that only held paper with perforated edges (ugh), it was finally complete. i held my breath as the grades were submitted and, sure enough, i had done it ... 99%. what a relief! i remember being so excited to take it to grandma and grandpa's so everyone could see the comments and the bright red ink proclaiming my brilliance (kidding about that last part). in the same room that had fostered the words i loathed years prior, family member by family member reviewed my short novel. (and by reviewed, i mean politely flip the pages).

in a memorably proud voice, i hear, "so tanner, did you get a 100%?"

in a moment of utter devastation and raw pain, i made a vow to break all stereotypes. to prove what i was capable of. to dominate. be self-sufficient. and more tragically ... to emotionally disconnect forever in order to protect myself.

this was also the moment i knew my brother would be my biggest advocate and the most emotionally stable person in my life. because in the seconds following that brutal response to my hard work, the attention shifted to him and questions arose as to whether or not he, in fact, scored a perfect grade. and without skipping a beat, he looked at me with the most sincere eyes, looked down at the floor and said, "i'm not in that class."

as he walked over to me, he said, "i think you did a good job" and began reading the book that everyone else merely skimmed through. his love and tenderness almost saved me from hearing the response that haunted me the rest of that school year: "well, if you were, i bet you would have gotten a 100%."

oh if i would have stopped the lie then ... if i would have just believed in myself and listened to my brother, i wouldn't have kept coming back to the ever-so-present lie that i wasn't good enough. not for them. not for myself. and certainly not for the number of people who would affirm that lie in the years to come ...

2009-03-12T09:22:00.000-07:00

i'm not sure if you've noticed, but my mood has grown increasingly dark lately. and by lately, i mean ... the past six months. (although some would argue the past five years ... or even worse ... the past 26!)

things have begun to surface lately that i wish didn't exist in the first place. so, while i would prefer to suppress them and pretend to be happy (hey, i'd rather me be peppy too ... trust me), i think i'll opt for dealing with a few memories that have become staples in the script i have written for my life.

as with everything, i still believe some good can come from the bad (although, to be honest, i tend to lean more towards a visa versa on this one). my life's 'script' is no exception. the problem with the version i have written for myself over the years is that i've successfully maintained a smooth, familiar track across a territory known as defense, anger and distrust. (obviously not a positive formula)

so, as i sift through the wreckage of my soul and the debris that has begun to surface, i have no choice but to start from the very beginning ... where the first page of my script was blotted with ink that was never again questioned and furthermore, distinguished as a guideline, rather than simply an unfortunate circumstance meant to be overcome. consequently, this would become a pattern in my story and thus ... why i find myself here ... grieving the loss of something i am still very uncertain of and hoping that i will find it in the exposure of some of the darkest places in my heart.

memory: an argument with escalating voices had erupted in the living room of my separated parent's home. the next image is of my angry father pacing ... waving his arms and screaming at my grandparents, aunt and a few other people i can't seem to place. i was three. i don't remember being scared or confused. the images and words cut in and out of memory as if i were watching a scratched DVD. after the faces, my mind cuts to my grandmother's face of disbelief and perhaps fear after my father tosses me to my aunt ... still yelling. i then remember playing on the couch with my grandmother's leather mouse key chain ... father now throwing things out of the front door and onto the lawn ... they appear to be magazines. my memory then cuts to my brother's room ... giant cloth initials ... pastel ... hanging on the wall. perhaps i was looking for my brother? this is the only memory of my childhood where tanner is not in the same room as me. and the only memory that i do not remember having strong feelings ... whether joyful or not.

whenever i remember this moment (which i do often), the scene that inevitably follows one of my brother and i sitting on each side of my mother she read us a kid's picture Bible. there are only two images from that Bible that i remember. on is of is one of joseph and his colorful robe and the other ... and probably more significant that night on the porch (whether or not it was close to my first memory in terms of real-time) was of a long haired-bearded man in a white robe with little kids all around him. they were sitting indian style. one was on his lap. and they looked happy to be with Him. mom said he man in the photo was jesus. that didn't mean much to me that night on the porch. i just thought he seemed like a nice guy. and i'm sure in my three-year-old mind i thought his clothes were a little weird, but i don't have recollection of that. much like the first memory, this one skips and the words are a bit muffled. all i remember next was that dad came outside and yelled, "your 30 minutes are up!" i can remember our rusted blue volkswagen beetle sitting at the end of the walkway and mom's tears as she closed the children's picture Bible and told tanner and i good night.

those were my first memories. the first things i remember about the beginning of my life.

my script, the one i have so diligently stuck to since my third year of life, always point back to this moment and the ones i hope to document. my hope is that in actually writing them down for the first time, that i will feel the freedom to create a new story ... one that feels little obligation to maintain a torrid relationship with familiarity for the sake of feeling in control of a redemption that i feel the three-year-old inside of me deserves.

2009-03-10T09:04:00.001-07:00

i look down at my hand and see the fading remnants of a world i had hoped would not quickly be forgotten.

each stroke of brown dye that dances out from under my sleeve brings another memory that seems so tragically distant from the life that goes on here ... on this side of the world ... like clockwork.

each train passing. systematically.

familiar faces making the same routine patterns in their early morning commute that, undoubtedly, continued while i was joining the other side of the world in theirs.

i glance down again ... saddened that this all seems like a figment of my imagination. saddened that, in the end, this excursion led me right back to the mundane ... the predictable. perhaps even worse, that these strokes reveal that the true sadness ... the eminent dark hole that i feel pulling the breath out of me ... comes from a deeply routed discontent that simply can not be explained or resolved.

and that powerful sadness is quite possibly the only thing that is familiar about the beauty fading from the strokes on my hand today. because now, as i sit in this all-to-familiar place, i feel the pain of wanting so desperately to know why i was created ... just as i felt it when i sat in front of a woman in the middle of a picture-esque desert in a land so far from all of my worries, who painted this art on my hand like she was trying to give me the answer ... but i.just.couldn't. get it.

so these strokes will haunt me today. they reveal much of what my heart longs for, yet falls just short of revealing the answers i have been asking since my first visit to that place nearly three years ago. these strokes ... are the most elegant and graceful depiction of my great sadness. and when they have finally faded, perhaps this time ... so will the tears.

2009-02-23T20:19:00.000-08:00

there is no way you have been more saturated with slumdog than i in the past two days. and, n case you are exhausted by another mention of the film's success, my apologies.

as much as i'm ready to move on to other news ... i have yet to grow weary of the energy this film has generated here in india.

it's absolutely incredible.

i was having a meeting (in a car) with a woman representing a local university and the oscar success of slumdog opened up a strikingly honest and deeply intense conversation about hope. and life.

mention was made of a r rahman's acceptance speech and his final quote: "all my life i had a choice of hate and love. i chose love and i'm here ...." that led the conversation in the direction of obama (all completely guided by my indian host). her observations of america and the hope for a better future for the world as a result of our election of president obama had been restored. while she acknowledged it was absurd to expect that he will be able to perform miracles, she was quite adamant about her renewed hope for the citizens of this world as obama takes the global stage and leads us in a new direction. after her beautiful oration of another chance at democracy, freedom and hope ... she yelled, "so ... JAI HO!!"

now, i have to admit. this woman epitomized energy. she could have passed as mildly insane, but. as you know, that's how i prefer my company. i laughed out loud and she went into another oratorical dialogue that expressed her pride in india and the film that had made "jai ho" an international phrase. i asked her what the literal meaning of the phrase is and she quickly responded, "it's a greeting. kind-of like namaste ... but more fun. it's the party side of namaste! like, 'JAI HO!!' yay!!" oh if only i could have had a video camera to capture her excitement! she was unbelievably contagious.

we ended the conversation on a more serious note as i offered my humble (and personal) observations of india in this hour as an american. i explained that 26/11 (the mumbai attacks) were no longer what comes to mind when i hear someone say, 'mumbai.' the first thing that enters my mind is slumdog or ... better yet ... jai ho - which, by the way, can not be said. no. for me, it has to be sung. does anyone else have that problem?

i digress. i finished my mini speech by telling her that this nation has overcome. that hope is winning. and that ... well ... that is something we now have in common. it is not only to be celebrated, but also respected.

for that. i say, 'namaste. now let's party!' :)

2009-02-20T00:00:00.000-08:00

i'm in between meetings at my beautiful hotel in the incredible city of kolkata.

i'm not sure i can explain how i feel about this city other than ... peace ... comfort ...

on my last day in los angeles, i sat in church and wrote in my journal a few thoughts i had that were crowding my mind and it's quite amazing how, just now, i'm seeing the connection the culture of this city is making with the cravings of my soul.

here is what i wrote on feb. 15 (the day after my birthday):

well. i'm 26. nothing special i suppose ... just another year older. but theres something about birthdays for me that bring a sense of possiblity and a chance to start over ... kind of like new year's does for everyone else. birthdays bring a challenge, even an element of fear that perhaps i won't meet all of my goals or rise to the challenge to take on bigger and more frightening risks. this is the time i usually refelct on what happened the year before, but that seems mildly depressing right now as not much has changed (in the physical sense), so i'll focus on a few things i'm hearing at church right now from my good friend jason jaggard.

- when you're the biggest thing in your world, nothing else can be bigger.
- we try to be bigger than we are so that we don't feel so small.
- what beauty might i be missing because i don't slow down?
- we were made to discover the wonder of God.

it's a constant battle for me ... to be completely geared for forward motion, fighting, achievement, yet desire to just.be. to just be comfortable in my own skin. to not have to try so freaking hard all the time. to not want to be so achievement oriented and just.enjoy.life.

i try too hard. did i mention that? let me be frank here. i've mentioned more times than i care to acknowledge that i spend and have spent most of my life trying to prove myself. i think that's why i love india so much. i have a purpose there. i'm free to learn, to not know ... to give what i have because for everyone there ... that's enough. there ... i am free to explore, discover, embrace the life i have been given. there ... i have space to just.be. no temptation to be bigger than life or try and prove my worth (whatever that means). because everything around me is proof enough that life is much more than my own insecurities and fears of not becoming. life there erases the "non-life" in my head that seems to consume the life that i'm supposed to be living in real-life ... (wow ... i'm officially starting to sound deranged and institutionalizable).

as i prepare to step onto the plane today, i remember that this is my chance. to start my 26th year fresh with wonder of the unknown and the audacity to explore, be wrong, ask questions and discover that which was made to be discovered. this is my chance to just.be.me (again, whatever that means).

so at breakfast this morning, i ask arjun, "why does the staff at this hotel clasp their hands together and nod whenever i walk by? why do they do that every time they say hello?"
arjun: because they are saying "namaste."
krysta: (in complete ignorance and trying to sound like i know what i'm talking about): oh, so like they're saying, "peace."
arjun: no. not really. (krysta puts food in her mouth so as not to feel embarrassed) they're bowing to the best in you. not YOU, because you don't deserve that much credit, but what's inside of you that is the best of who you are.
krysta: i really like that.

anne lamott says:

i learned to be the person i wished i'd meet.

i'm there today. i'm thrilled that those who serve me at this hotel and who greet me in this city are acknowledging only the greatest in me. i'm humbled that this is who they are calling out. and i feel much more free to explore who that being is ... deep down inside when i am greeted with namaste. because that person ... perhaps it is what most people identify as the 'soul' ... is who i would like to become more familiar with. it's the me i wish i'd meet ...

maybe this trip will be better for me than i expected ...

2009-02-14T18:52:00.000-08:00

as you can see ... i have a new look (as promised months back when i was in the middle of my graduate studies and making promises i knew i couldn't keep within an appropriate time frame).

but i felt that turning 26 was grounds for setting my new year up right with a spiffy website in order to inform the world of my continued quarter life crisis ... in style. i'm beginning to develop an appreciation for packaging and the delivery of messages and i thought that, perhaps, this would be a good start to making potentially depressing material more tolerable :)

this is where the modern day handyman comes in.

since i was leaving for india (to which i am currently en-route) the day after my birthday and the blessed holiday of sir valentine (ugh), vince and i decided to keep things low key and make no plans so as not to become unnecessarily stressed. we were talking about some things for his latest film and i directed him to a friend's website so he could see her latest work. (did i mention miss ruthi auda is spectacularly brilliant with her obnoxiously creative mind?) anywho. as we were looking at her blog, we both desired a bit more creativity in our day. this is where handyman boyfriend says, "hey! when are we going to set up a website for you?" to which i responded, "right now!! oh that would be so fun!"

so. on my 26th birthday, my modern day handyman fixed me up a lovely website and walked me through the process i needed to make minor repairs and he wasn't around. he navigated his way around the information super highway with ease and made something simply divine with his manly hands ;)

as i watched him make me something to keep my 'artwork' safe and beautiful, i couldn't help but think that this kind of handyman sure beats the plumber with the hairy butt crack who used to fix the drip under my sink. and it certainly beats the repair man who would fix the weather strip on the front door of my new apartment. none of those guys made me smile when i watched them work and they certainly didn't keep me from over-analyzing the fatality of another year in which i would feel compelled to do more than the year prior.

all this to say. my 26th birthday began with a solemn, "poor me, i'm-closer-to-30-than-i-am-to-20-and-i-haven't-done-anything-with-my-life" attitude and ended with a hopeful sigh of relief that even if this year ends up being a complete and utter failure, i'll at least look good while i'm documenting it. right?

here's to a new year ... and to a new generation of men who help women like me fix all the essential house ware items that keep us organized and feeling more sane.

2009-02-11T08:20:00.001-08:00

there are two women in my life right now who are inspiring the pants off of me:

elizabeth gilbert
anne lamott

these women are both writers ... ironically. i don't consider myself a writer. perhaps i secretly wish that it were my destined profession (thus the narcissistic decision to open a blog when, let's be honest, only two people read it).

and i don't consider myself a "creative" either, no matter how hard i try to force it.

but i'm wondering if these closet desires remain dormant or 'closeted' by something a bit more daunting ... like fear itself.

in a mad attempt to 'get in the zone' yesterday, i visited a few blogs, shuffled through my iTunes, perused artistic websites and was just about to open my new book by anne lamott (which i vowed to save for my horrendous plane ride) until i landed on a gold mine on ted.com.

right there staring me straight in the face on their homepage was elizabeth gilbert. the infamous author of one of my favorite books, 'eat, pray, love.' she's brilliant. inspiring. and i will openly confess i wish i had her life ... well, parts of it at least.

she gave a 20 minute speech at ted that completely rocked my world. it would be advantageous of you to visit the site for 20 minutes of life-altering information. the title: fear of genius.

as if the title alone doesn't motivate you here is a little cliffhanger to drive you to the site ... this is one of the statements she made in the first few minutes of her talk:

why? is it rational? is it logical that anybody should be expected to be afraid of the work that they feel they were put on this earth to do?

it was captivating. pure genius (for lack of a better word). and her conclusion brought me to tears that could only be induced by a strong dose of inspiration. go see it. listen. take notes. and then do what you do best ... even if it scares the poop out of you.

2009-02-09T10:46:00.000-08:00

i was having a particularly introverted day this past saturday. multiple feelings and events led me to crave a bit of alone time and i spent it just the way i wanted to ... in my favorite little coffee shop/bookstore, through the hills in all its green splendor and the fresh scent of rain that sent me on my way to an even larger bookstore where i quickly found my way to a spot on the stairs to read the first few pages of each book i was considering.

sounds cheesy. perhaps even lame. but it was incredible. every minute of it.

i've been waiting for this week for about a month now, for many reasons. the first: because it's my birthday week. and i like to celebrate all week, because ... well ... it's fun. i'm a little nervous that this year will bring me closer to the woes of adulthood and the ever-looming age of 30 than the youthful bliss of my childhood (cough), but i seem to be coping just fine.

the second: i leave for india in six days, which means my life is about to feel as if it has meaning again (because the daily tasks of my job ceased to provide that sense of purpose long ago). ok ok ... a little fatalistic and not surprisingly dramatic, but there is something about this trip that makes me feel alive again ... like i AM good at a few things and have the potential to be a mover and shaker in this giant world of achievers.

third: while it may be hard to believe that i struggle with divinity and spirituality, coming from such a religious background and all, it has become a rather blurry and complicated issue for me ... for which i have been craving the space and time in which to meditate. india has traditionally had a way of reacquainting me with my core while providing a healthy level of complexity in the same breath. all of these elements combined serve as a mixture for much introspection and good conversations with the God whom i am hoping is still interested in having conversations with me. and the possibility of those moments where He becomes real, makes this week so exciting.

and lastly: while 26 hours on a plane typically isn't the remedy for a good time, i enjoy having no where else to be. there are no other options. i just have to sit, write, read, contemplate. thus ... the reason for my trip to my two favorite bookstores in l.a.

so as i walked down each isle at borders, holding a small stack of leadership books in my hand and contemplating which book to open in the travel section, i remembered my friend kim had recommended a few books to me in case i came across some leisure time. hmm. i sat down in the isle and perused through my emails and found her list of recommendations. why this particular author struck my eye ... i'm not sure ... but she mentioned two of anne lamott's books. i went to the "christian" section and stood helplessly as i attempted to figure out which sub-section she may be categorized. then, i found her. face forward on an eye-level shelf. "plan b - further thoughts on faith" sounded more interesting for some reason than "traveling mercies" located conveniently to the right. so i sat on the step stool and read the first page. within the first paragraph, she had captured my heart with her sarcasm and good humored whit. i like this lady already ... i think i'll take her with me to india.

then i remembered. a friend in india wanted me to get a book for his wife (who is an aspiring writer) that he can't seem to find or have shipped to his home. he asked that i kindly look for it in the states and bring it with me. so i went in search of his email and found the author and title. the author: anne lamott.

i've never heard of this woman until about 5 minutes ago and now the entire universe seems to be pushing me towards her! which led me to think of a quote from the alchemist that i've always loved... "when you know what you want the whole world conspires with you to achieve it."

now, i wouldn't exactly say that i know what i want. and i certainly wouldn't say that this chain of events was orchestrated by the divine ... although ... i'm not ruling it out. but it did lead me to believe that maybe i know more than i'm willing to admit about who i am and what i want. and while the quote may seem a bit new-agy, it sure seemed like, at least in that moment, that the world was coming together to bring me a few steps closer to who i am and what i want.

all this to say ... it's not every day you feel the powers that be are trying to you something. so, for lack of other options, i think i'll start listening ...

2009-02-03T09:22:00.000-08:00

i like change (not necessarily the kind in your pocket or in-between the cushions of your sofa ... although it does comes in quite handy for dollar menu lunches).

i like forward movement ... progress, if you will.

i thrive on collaborative efforts that lead to the development of processes that enhance the already stellar (or even not-so-stellar) infrastructures of organizations (you just got a glimpse into my inner nerd).

aside from the last bullet point, we may all be on the same page. human nature doesn't lend itself to stagnant, immobile behaviors. we may choose it because it feels safer than the alternative, but our inherent desire isn't to remain the same until the end of time.

vince is shooting another short film and the script includes a nice action sequence. while i was sitting in the car with the camera and director (vince), watching the action unfold with the car next to us ... i couldn't help but get excited. we were going somewhere ... collectively. we were working together to figure out how to turn this momentum into something audiences would not only be entertained by, but also inspired.

that's both the beauty and power of movement.

i leave for india and dubai in two weeks. i live for these three weeks of my year because i build so much momentum on these trips. there is something about the constant movement of this tour that makes me feel energized and alive. the momentum actually sustains itself for a few months after my return and then i start craving it again when i realize how absent the elements are from my actual life.

i can just imagine my life from the lens of a camera as i buzz around the cities in india. i'd like to think it would be mildly entertaining but more importantly inspiring and engaging. who i am there is exactly the person i am here. the difference is that there ... i am given the platform to be a person of action. that platform alone, unleashes more of my harnessed potential than i even thought i possessed.

i want my life to be a sequence of action-packed events. a sequence that leads to something greater ... not simply a repetition of the same actions.

maybe this year will hold more opportunities for that to become a more consistent reality ... not just a once a year short.

2009-01-29T11:42:00.001-08:00

i have quite a bit of experience with intense conversations. they seem to be interwoven throughout my life as necessary crucibles to moving forward and catalyzing necessary change.

but it's really difficult to have honest conversations with myself. i'm pretty good at keeping myself so busy that i simply don't have time to be introspective. and, frankly, when i do have a chance to make observations about my behaviors and the way i'm thinking/acting ... i quickly become overwhelmed and make the conscious decision to just.keep.moving.

erwin said something profound last week that got me thinking: 'it's amazing what will ruin your life when you're running scared.'

when he said that, i began to realize how unintentional my intentional life has been. and the things that i desperately need (and want for that matter) have been shoved out of my life by the things that i feel obligated to pay attention to for the sake of keeping up with the 'self' i have created. - whom, by the way, is not entirely accurate of the self that has been buried beneath the labels and self-proclamations.-

it's a process. a really freaking long process.

and i'm getting there.

it just takes a few really really honest conversations at the right moment, to understand that sometimes ... you just need to stop moving before you can get anywhere.

so. i'm on pause, so-to-speak. hoping that things will become more clear when i stop trying to chase, run from or even stay pace with the world i've created for myself.

2009-01-22T08:08:00.000-08:00

whirl·wind (hwûrl'wĭnd', wûrl'-)
n. A tumultuous, confused rush.

yes. a tumultuous, confused rush seems to explain the past two week just fine.

two weeks ago today, i had just handed in my thesis and was desperately trying to finish a research paper due that night. after i handed it in, i spent the next evening relaxing by beginning a new project with jess koehler to build a campaign for a village in zambia (not much of a relaxing evening, but it sure beat writing another word).

the next week would be spent in multiple study sessions for the comp exam that was looming over my head. the end would commence with a six hour essay exam that would bring a new definition to the molestation of my already tender brain.

oh, i forgot to mention that my purse was stolen out of my office the day before this wretched exam. it's easy to forget something like that when it's not exactly the most pressing issue on your plate. i suppose it couldn't have happened at a better or worse time for me. the nice police man that came into my office to write a report ended up finding my bag full of note cards, scratch paper and cute red wallet in the men's restroom; contents completely strewn about the disgusting floor (why can't men get their urine INTO the bowl? it still confuses me).

anyway. the poor kids were looking for cash ... to which i have none of ... and they left empty handed. it must have been such a feeling of defeat for them. i mean, they mustered the courage to come into my office, steal the bag from under my desk and run off with it, only to find no reward for their courage. sad day for them.

since this chain of events, i have spent the past few days getting over the fear of opening a letter that says i failed and must relive the six hours of hell from last saturday and have moved on to things i can control ... like my hair color and a social life that is in need of major attention.

my goal is to not so much live in a tumultuous, confused rush. that never bodes well for my overall being. but it would be nice to have a bit of orderly chaos that moves me into a more focused and intentional direction. i think i'll work on that for a while now that i have some spare time ...

2009-01-20T13:22:00.000-08:00

for risking his life so that all who were once considered undeserving of basic human liberties could live the life they were created to live ... including our president.

for believing in the power of change, hope and new paradigms that continue to break down destructive barriers and provide opportunities for guys like jon (below) and girls like me to live up to our full potential.

for being the youngest (27 years old) chief speechwriter on record at the white house and for inspiring me do more with what i have ... no matter how young i am.

to all these men: thank you for reminding me that, if you're willing to fight ... i mean really fight for what you believe in, you can change the world.

2009-01-16T09:58:00.000-08:00

tomorrow is a really big day for me.

i've tried not to think of it that way because it will just freak me out ... but it is.

depending on how well i perform on my comp exam tomorrow i could either be a girl who has a master's degree, or i could be the girl who didn't pass and has to prepare for the exam again in march. i suppose taking the exam again isn't the worst thing that could ever happen to me, but i would really like to have my life back. it's not that i don't enjoy studying (because i do) and it's not that i don't enjoy having conversations about theories and leadership philosophies (because i enjoy that too). but i need a little break. and the thought of not being finished after tomorrow is one of the more devastating thoughts i've tried to keep from my mind this week as i prepare.

have you ever worked really really hard for something ... sacrificed your blood, sweat, tears, time and relationships ... for it to come down to one moment? one moment that says everything you've done up until that point was great, but unless you can get over this last hurdle, it will have all been in vain?

the truth is ... i'm as prepared as i can be without having run myself into the ground. and under those conditions i think i've done what i can. i suppose my fear is (like everything), what if what i have to bring to the table isn't enough?

my professor gave our class a word of advice, "just land the plane." it kind-of has a whole new meaning after yesterday's hudson miracle.

stay calm. use what you know. and just get this thing on the ground. it doesn't have to be pretty. it doesn't have to be perfect. just land.the.plane.

2009-01-15T07:45:00.000-08:00

i was going to start my morning off with a fresh cup of today's brew from the bucks. but then i remembered how i felt the last time i was really tired and made that decision. within three hours of my first sip, i felt like someone had hit my a few time with a semi-truck. that kind of pain doesn't fade quickly.

sooo. i made a quick detour to my local grocery store and found these ...

with my comp exam only two days away, i figured it wouldn't hurt to purchase anything and everything that claims to make me smarter, build my immunity and bring nourishment to my mind, body and soul (even if it does have grass and stuff in it).

my 1 quart bottle of electrolyte enhanced water should keep me hydrated (which is apparently really smart). my power-c vitamin water should take care of my immune system them as will my odwalla c-monster beverage. both are "packed" with antioxidant vitamin c. in fact, i may want to space those two out now that i'm reading the label. the odwalla has 1000% vitamin c (because i guess your body needs that much) and the other has 250%. do you think it's possible i could overdose of vitamin c?? i don't want to take my chances ...

i think i'll keep my "energy" water for the day of the test. i'm not sure what natural caffeine means, but i'm sure it wouldn't hurt to take it in the middle of my 6-hour exam.

all this to say ... i'm feeling good about my all-naturAL purchases. and to be honest, i'm feeling quite alert. while completely unnecessary and obviously excessive, i think these things may actually serve a purpose ... in moderation. and if they prove less painful than the coffee beans i inject into my system, they may become my new vice (i know, blasphemy. but sometimes you have to let go and start making smarter decisions). ;)

2009-01-14T07:49:00.001-08:00

i'll be 26.

it didn't seem depressing or frightening until now.

now it just screams, "you're closer to 30 than 20 ... what have you done with your life?"

for those of you out there who are older than i and out of your twenties, you may find the rest of this post completely juvenile ...

i think your twenties are the most most difficult years of your life ... for a few reasons:

you're trying to figure out who you are, while trying to achieve major successes in order to prove your worth as a (college graduate, new mom or dad, employee, etc).

there is also a weird juxtaposition of wanting to be back in college because life just seemed so much easier, but also feeling responsible for being an adult ... even if you feel you don't have what it takes.

and what does "being an adult" mean anyway? i'm young and if being an adult means bogging myself down with responsibilities that keep me from doing the things i love, then i'm not sure i want to grow up. who says being an adult means you have to have a secure job, own a home, start a family and build in a routine?

i'm hoping that being one year closer to thirty doesn't mean i stop pursuing adventure, mobility and the life i was created for. and to be honest, i'm not sure i want the life i'm supposed to be working towards as a "budding adult." it seems so ... blah.

then again, ask me what i'm doing in a few years. "adulthood" tends to get the best of us and i'm sure i'm not immune.

maybe your twenties are difficult because you know what is expected and you're heading in that direction, but something tells you that you don't have to follow the crowd. you just don't want to regret it later, so you're faced with risk or comfort ... and for some reason ... even in your twenties, comfort finds it's way to the forefront.

lame. i refuse. at least in my 26th year.

2009-01-12T11:56:00.000-08:00

ok. i wanted to write a post about this nearly a month ago when i first saw the film, but after last night's sweep at the golden globes, i think it needs to be said.

slumdog millionaire was undoubtedly the best movie i saw this year. and apparently the academy thought so as well.

it was beautiful. inspiring. compelling.

my soul actually came alive in the theater that day.

everything about it reminded me of how much i adore india AND how anxious i'm getting to go back. india brings so much life and hope for me. it's the place where i first felt like i was not only capable but responsible for doing something significant in the world.

when i watched this film, i was reminded that everyone deserves a chance ... and it renewed my passion for fighting for that opportunity for those who are so easily forgotten.

if you haven't seen it ... you should. it may not change your life, but it'll sure give you something to be hopeful for :)

2009-01-09T13:35:00.000-08:00

ok. so my last post was a bit melancholy (understatement of 2009 so far). but it was authentic ... about as raw as it gets.

what you didn't know is that a few hours later, a beautiful little bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates were delivered to my office. my lovely boyfriend thought it was necessary to send me something that would make me smile ... and it worked. the flowers even came in an over-sized mug (which i can't wait to drink coffee from) that's bright yellow with a happy face on the front. it kind-of makes me giggle ... which i assume was the point.

today can be described in one word ... relief.

i'm finished with my thesis. i'm finished with my research course. everything has been submitted and my brain has been officially turned off for the day. it feels wonderful. i have one week to prepare for my comprehensive exam and then i can relax completely.

as for my thoughts yesterday, they haven't gone away. but i have the strength today to push through adversity. i guess yesterday was just a real glimpse into who i am when it's just too much.

for those who are reading ... enjoy your weekend! i'll be back monday! :)

2009-01-08T07:38:00.001-08:00

i've been away for a while. i promise i have a good reason ... it's sitting on my desk bound and beautiful ... all 74 pages of it.

last night should have been one of the happier days of my life ...

and it was a disaster.

as i turned in my thesis for my masters program and stepped up to the front of the room to give a short presentation on the journey i have taken in the past year and a half, i became very aware of how lonely i've been.

as everyone was giving their speeches about their leadership journey, i felt a huge disconnect. i'm not saying i didn't appreciate their stories ... that's not it at all. i just couldn't really relate. being a good 10 years behind most people in my class plays a large role in that and when i stepped up to the front of the room ... i felt ...

exposed.

as i attempted to articulate my personal philosophy of leadership and my core values i looked around the room and realized that i was not connecting. this typically doesn't bother me ... but it threw me off last night and i walked away feeling as if i didn't do myself or my work justice.

one of my colleagues, who spoke after me, quoted greenleaf by saying, "able leaders are usually sharply awake and reasonably disturbed." she paused and said, "this one reminds me of you krysta."

i wanted to take it as a compliment. but as i drove home last night, all i could think about was how this "disturbia" was defining me. all i could think about was how busy i am doing things that i enjoy, but that don't make me a joyful person. why is it that i appear to have so many friends, but when it really comes down to it, i'm just involved in a lot of things so there is an allusion that i'm always surrounded by people who want to spend time with me?

again, this should be an exciting week for me. i should be celebrating the end of a tiresome journey that we call graduate school. but somehow, somewhere along the way ... probably years ago ... i became the person that "get's things done" instead of the person people want to hang out with.

so i stood there last night wondering if this was going to be it for me. if this is what my life was going to look like. i don't know if it's because i'm passionate about things that people just don't want to commit to, or if i'm just not someone people want to be led by, but as people were talking about leadership as if it were a bowl of ice cream ... all i could think was that it is one of the loneliest places to be.

so today i battle the desire for meaningful relationships and girl's nights and dinners with a giant group of friends with my desire to see the world changed for good. and i can't help but think how difficult it would be for me to have both. so while some of you think that it's all about a balance, i would love to agree. in fact, i envy you for having it. but i ... i think i'll always be disturbed and that doesn't tend to mix well social settings and that's really not making my day super cheery.

hopefully tomorrow i'll come to grips with my reality and keep moving forward. until then, i'll be spending the day with my office door shut and tissues at my desk and possibly dabbling in a small amount of self pity. :)

2008-12-24T09:03:00.000-08:00

i've been sitting in the starbucks on 6th and grand for a little more than an hour now. my goal was to have been well on my way to achieving a solid momentum in writing the remainder of my thesis today but things are not looking hopeful.

this thesis has caused me to think about so many things that i have disregarded, mainly because they seem a bit too complex for a normal day's worth of contemplation. so as many prepare to celebrate with their families today ... i write.

my little table in the corner is covered with papers, books and, of course, my macbook and coffee. i watch the cars go by with people in their business attire and wonder if they're dreading the next 8 hours of their day or if they're happy to have an excuse not to stay home and clean for guests tonight. then i see people in the office building next to me that are pounding away on their computers, probably trying desperately to finish their workload so they can go home early, while others seem completely un-phased that today is christmas eve. i live in a city with a heavy jewish population, so that could explain the nonchalance of some faces, but still ... there is a strong sense of unrest in the city today.

i'm so grateful to have had the opportunity to go home this weekend. to help my mom make her famous peanut butter cups and dip anything we could find in the kitchen in an endless bowl of chocolate. to see my little sister (who, by the way, is not so little anymore) try on winter formal dresses and get stressed about the perfect shoes for her new outfit. to see the excitement on my grandma's face as she showed me each corner of their new home that she has adorned in christmas decorations. to see my other grandparents laughing at their kitchen table as they recounted stories from the past week of grandma's recovery from eye surgery. and to see my best friend a week away from being full-term with her first child and her emphatically impatient husband who thinks it's ridiculous that he may have to wait a few more weeks to meet his son.

christmas has always been my favorite holiday. everything looks beautiful. the lights, the smells, the cool weather and the laughter of family and friends. and while this year has been a bit different from all the years past, i am thrilled to have had the best of both worlds this season: the joys of past memories and the reality of the future i am creating for myself here ... in l.a.

i'm excited to share my mom's tradition of delicious baked goods and my grandma's attention to aesthetic detail with her gift wrapping with vince's family and friends tonight. and as i muster up the creative energy to move forward with my thesis today, i will remember how blessed i am to have celebrated my favorite time of year with everyone i love.

merry christmas everyone!

2008-12-17T09:30:00.000-08:00

this morning was a bit rough.

the freeway i take to get to work was a complete mess. apparently a big rig from the other side of the road crashed through the cement barriers and onto our side of the road. it's probably safe to say that the people involved in that incident had a far worse morning, but i still found it necessary to be frustrated.

when i finally made it into work, i went through my routine of checking blogs, news websites, emails and facebook.

a few other elements were adding to my already pitiful morning ... like the stress of a final exam this evening (for which i am only mildly prepared), 20 more pages of my thesis that have yet to be written and are looming over my head, christmas shopping that has yet to be completed (with ever depleting funds to work with), my departure at 6:45 a.m. for kansas in which i will spend 3 days absorbing the holiday goodness of my childhood without actually being there for christmas (all thanks to the necessity of finishing my degree) ...

things are just mounting. emotionally. physically. socially.

not as much as they have in the past ... but i certainly had my moment for a few hours this morning.

until ...

i found out that a girl i went to high school with who has two young children, died yesterday of an anuerism. she had a headache and then ...

just.like.that.

gone.

no warning. no goodbyes. no preparation.

just.gone.

suddenly, everything else in my life seemed petty when i thought of her boyfriend and her two little boys and how their morning must have been. so, despite my bad start, i'm determined to end today well. for her. for everyone who won't be given the chance to say goodnight this evening to those they love.

2008-12-16T08:54:00.000-08:00

i think it has already snowed twice this season back home.

i;'ve been jealous.

real jealous.

while all my friends were facebooking that the christmas weather had hit their front yards, i was walking around southern california, growing increasingly more irritable that people had the audacity to play christmas music in their stores when it was 80 degrees outside.

until yesterday.

the rain began to pour and the temperatures dropped significantly.

i was freezing. wet. and feeling rather cheerful considering the conditions. it wasn't what i was hoping for in terms of seasonal weather, but it would do!

and today ... we have the byproduct of that rain and the cooler temperatures. behold, the view from my office window ...

let it snow let it snow let it snow (even if it's just on the mountains). you may proceed with your christmas music ...

2008-12-12T09:34:00.000-08:00

2008-12-11T10:55:00.000-08:00

in a desperate attempt to finish my thesis, i have come across information that i seemed to have overlooked (or completely skipped) in one of my earlier classes.

i'm currently working on a section that analyzes a leadership scenario through peter senge's learning organization model. and i came across a tidbit of information while reviewing his book (the fifth discipline) that i seemed to have missed ...

"a more daunting form of resistance is cynicism." - [my number one talent]

"in combating cynicism, it helps to know its source. scratch the surface of most cynics and you find a frustrated idealist - someone who made the mistake of converting ideals into expectations. for example, many of those cynical about *personal mastery once held high ideals about people. then they found themselves disappointed, hurt, and eventually embittered because people fell short of their ideals."

does this resonate with anyone else but me? this nearly made me collapse this morning when i was highlighting portions that i wanted to make sure i added to my thesis. why was this not highlighted before? i seriously must have skipped this chapter. or maybe it was meant to be that i spent time reading it today ... because it probably wouldn't have been as relevant. (btw, this happens a lot with me as i live in a very creative city, with a lot of people who don't value structure ... something i find crucial to existence as an ENTJ)

he continues ...

"o'brien used to point out that burnout does not just come from working too hard. there are teachers, social workers, and clergy who work incredibly hard until they are 80 years old and never suffer 'burnout' - because they have an accurate view of human nature, of our potential and limitations. they don't over-romanticize people, so they don't feel the great psychological stress when people let them down."

i still don't feel like this excuses mediocrity. nor do i feel like i will ever get to a point where i don't have a value for excellence and efficiency. but it does make me more aware of the expectations i put on other people who don't share the same set of values. and it places the responsibility back on me to make sure i am continually learning how to see my current reality more clearly.

here's my struggle, however: what about those who are leading me? shouldn't i expect more of them? shouldn't i desire that they are more "together" - not perfect - but certainly not average? and worse, what about the expectations i hold of myself as a leader? will i ever be able to give myself a break and realize my own limitations?

*personal mastery is the phrase we use for the discipline of personal growth and learning. people with high levels of personal mastery are continually expanding their ability to create the results in life they truly seek.

2008-12-10T09:07:00.000-08:00

i like to explore.

usually that manifests itself in the form of travel, but today ... i think i'll flesh it out through an emotion ...

love.

(you know this is going to be good)

yesterday, while i was on the train, i chose to make a conscience effort to love without cowering to my fear of looking weak or ignorant in the process.

because love isn't ultimately about me. (duh, right?)

that's just a misconception i picked up from the same people that caused me to fear love to begin with.

so, i'm trying it out for a while ... see how i like it.

disclaimer: although this will translate into multiple aspects of my life, it primarily effects my brave boyfriend who, for more than a year, has had to watch me retreat when i realize i am too close to vulnerability for any level of comfort.

2008-12-09T08:31:00.001-08:00

my friend amy and i used to have this phrase to describe what we felt we were witnessing in the church (months before we both decided to move).

we called it either the "goosebump" package or the "jacuzzi jesus" package which, of course, alluded to the emphasis placed on having an overly emotional experience in the church. or even just going to church because it made us feel good. i think you get the idea.

well, last night i happened to be sitting in the jacuzzi on my roof with vince and three other people from my complex. they were already there chatting about their travels and reminiscing about old times. vince and i quietly kept to ourselves in the other corner, sipping our starbucks and enjoying the pretty skyline.

it was hard not to hear their conversation because we were the only people on the roof and vince and i weren't really intending to engage in dialog while relaxing in the steamy water. what we heard was undoubtedly entertaining but ultimately devastating.

the conversation began with one of them telling of their recent experiences in india. i almost jumped into the conversation because (as we all know) i seem to have a slight obsession with that country. but i didn't. and i'm glad i didn't.

she went on to talk about spending time at an ashram and learning about different world religions. i agreed that some of the rituals seemed scary and a bit odd. but the interesting thing is that she said, no matter how weird it was, i got sucked in ... like i was in a trance. it was all so cult-ish.

hmm.

that of course led to other stories about other religions and cults. from scientology to self-help groups to hinduism to ... yes ... christianity.

they didn't seem to have a problem with the fundamentals of christianity. they didn't even seem to have a real problem with the church. but one story made them all agree that christianity was just another pyramid scheme ... another cult-like phenomenon.

promise keepers.

now, i know that a lot of good comes out of these conferences. i'm not bashing promise keepers or passion or catalyst or (fill in the blank). i've been to almost every major christian conference you can think of. but this was their perception:

that it was creepy. that it was fake. that is was over the top and all just one big scheme to get you emotionally connected so that you would buy their package at the end of the day.

that's what the two men in the conversation walked away from that experience with when they were 14.

i thought it was ironic that i was hearing this perspective after yesterday's post. vince and i talked about it after they left and felt a little defeated by the way jesus has been portrayed. we completely agreed with what they were saying. we have felt the same way. but cleaning up that mess with people who are trying to stay as far away from those kinds of experiences as possible, seems like a daunting task.

it just makes me wish i never put my own comfort level before the needs of other people. and it makes me even more certain that jesus wasn't about temporary highs ... he was about relationships. until i care more about other people than keeping up my super christian facade, this whole perception will keep perpetuating itself and we'll be oblivious to our categorization of "other world religion" instead of being a revolutionary movement of faith, hope and love.

2008-12-08T13:07:00.000-08:00

why do we try to make people believe in God in the context in which we first believed?

that's one thought that has been plaguing me for a while. the other ...

i don't want the fears of others to be my fears. i think i've felt this way for a really long time, but didn't realize how to communicate it (that has been happening a lot lately). in terms of my faith and what i chose to believe at a young age, i feel especially passionate about this. just because you were afraid that you wouldn't be a super-christian if you weren't on the top of the christian bubble you created, doesn't mean that has to be my life. yet, somehow i believed it was ... perhaps for long enough to keep me from thinking that God couldn't or wouldn't exist elsewhere. which became really toxic when i believed that people who didn't go to church would never have a conversation with God (because we all know God doesn't talk to people outside of chapel - insert cynicism). even more toxic was when i didn't want to hang out with people who didn't go to church because i didn't want them to ruin my "good christian girl" persona that i had worked so hard to build.

but what was there to hide? what was i afraid of? was i afraid that He could exist outside of the subculture in which i was a part?

did i want to risk it? did i want to step down from my position in the bubble to find answers to the questions that were keeping me awake at night? did i want to risk everything i had ever known just to hear what other people had to say and see things things from a different vantage point?

what if i started to doubt that what i believed in wasn't real?

it has been more than two years since i popped my own bubble and began to create new paradigms. i'm sure you're wondering why i'm still having problems with this, but you have to understand ... this was my life. and old habits don't die easily. but my own fear that i would always wonder 'what if' completely trumped the fears of those around me ... and now ...

now i live this dichotomous life where i feel like a heretic when i find myself more alive doing something outside of the church and yet strangely confused and almost sad that the illusion of my faith only existing in the church has been proven to be just that ... an illusion.

i've posed this question multiple times, not in a cry for help or in some desperate attempt to say 'i'm lost ... someone come find me and take me back to the bubble.' but i wonder ...

what next?

what's next for the person of faith who is now more passionate about small business development in third world countries than she is of her lifetime dream of being a renowned worship leader? what does the next five years look like for my spiritual journey if the things that once defined me as a 'believer' are now existential?

trivial?

maybe.

but for some reason, i can't shake the big christian conferences out of my head and the dream i once had of owning a spot on the stage in front of thousands of youth groups. wouldn't it have been so cool to say to my christian friends that i sang next to the giants in the worship industry? wouldn't it have been great to have sang for passion or be the next hillsong united? but what would i tell all of my friends who don't understand the significance of that? would i just show them pictures and say that i sang with a band at a cool conference in front of a lot of people and that would be the end of the conversation?

i'm starting to think that all of this internal drama is for a reason. because when you live in the bubble for that long, you only know how to talk to people in the way that people in the bubble understand or appreciate. for everyone else, it's gibberish and really quite meaningless. so, yes, it is good for me to remember the bubble. because the bubble is powerful. the bubble is full of inherently good people. and i will always have a place for the bubble in my heart because that's what was first so familiar to me.

but i think it is obvious that i needed something more to care about than myself. i needed to believe in God for reasons other than the security of having a bubble to belong to.

again, for those of you have been reading this blog for a while and feel that i'm being repetitive and seem to be battling the same dilemma ... i'm sure you're annoyed. trust me, i live with me ... i understand.

it all comes down to letting go of who i think i am and figuring out why i've been holding on to that person and why i feel i had to become that person. because, if you can't tell, i'm not at all content with the person i always thought i was supposed to be. and while i'm happy with the progress, i'm not quite there yet ... and that's frustrating.

until tomorrow ...

2008-12-05T08:20:00.000-08:00

it's not that i like to steal ... really. and i'm not even sure that this constitutes as stealing since i got the idea before reading my friend anne's post today. but since she published her thought first ... all technicalities lead to me stealing her creativity and brilliant ideas.

every time i hear this song on the radio it makes me smile. i actually feel like it's more of an anthem than a catchy little tune these days. and when i heard it this morning, i thought, "these are probably words that people all over the world have whispered under their breath in or even screamed out loud at one point or another." it's a song that gives me permission to say i don't have it all figured out ... that i have a lot of questions ... that i'm hoping i'm not living in vain (all within the confines of my car of course).

so here are the lyrics ... for all of those who are wondering the same things - whether you have found something to believe in and are just hoping it's the right choice, or whether you're still searching ... we're all in this together. and by the way ... when i hear this song, it compels me to move forward ... to have the energy to stand up when i have fallen to my fears and insecurities. it reminds me that, while i may feel like a failure at times, that if i just keep moving forward i will find what i'm looking for. it's when we believe that our worst failure is who we really are, that we actually begin to believe we don't deserve the life we were created for. so when we think we're waiting for nothing because it's "already done ... " i'm with the artist of this song when they let out a scream after that phrase. because i think we all know that it's our choice, in that moment, to fight for what we hope to be true. i think it's in that moment that we decide to pursue Truth and resist the temptation to lead a life of mediocrity.

believe :: the bravery

the faces all around me they don't smile they just crack
waiting for our ship to come but our ships not coming back
we do have time like pennies in a jar
what are we saving for [x2]

there's a smell of stale feeling that's drinking from my skins
the drinking never stops because the drink off all our sins
we sit and throw our roots into the floor
what are we waiting for [x2]

so give me something to believe
cause i am living just to breathe
and i need something more
to keep on breathing for
so give me something to believe

something's always coming you can hear it in the ground
it swells into the air
with the rising
rising sound
and never comes but shakes the boards and rattles all the doors
what are we waiting for [x2]

so give me something to believe
cause i am living just to breath
and i need something more
to keep on breathing for
so give me something to believe

i am hiding from some beast
but the beast was always here
watching without eyes
because the beast is just my fear
that i am just nothing
now its just what I've become
what am I waiting for
its already done

ohhhhhhh

so give me something to believe
cause i am living just to breath
and i need something more
to keep on breathing for
so give me something to believe

2008-12-02T14:42:00.000-08:00

i didn't want to talk about this the first day back from vacation because it just seemed ... well, too serious for my already comatose system to really handle.

but what happened last week in mumbai really put a few things into perspective for me.

i think we can all agree that it was devastating. but for many, it may have been easier to disconnect because it seemed so far away.

what i couldn't shake was this...

and this ...

and then back to this on my t.v. screen ...

it has been less than a year since i stood in front (and ate inside) of the beautiful taj hotel in mumbai.

those kids ... they walk past the courtyard of the luxurious monument twice a day to get to and from school. they were dancing around together until they realized i had a fancy camera. i remember that day so clearly. and the only thing i could think about when i saw the news last wednesday was that i couldn't believe the country i love to visit was being terrorized.

i initially thought of how unfair it was that people had to go through this. ever. whether in africa, the middle east, the twin towers of new york, the ghettos of mexico ... no where is this acceptable.

and then i started thinking about my trip to india in february. i'm in the middle of the planning process right now and i thought, "it's not too late to cancel." but why? when is it ever ok for me (or anyone else for that matter) to ever cower from pursuing my dreams ... the things that really bring me to life ... all because of fear? am i any safer in downtown l.a.? isn't safety just an illusion anyway?

but what if i were there again ... by myself ... in a hotel room waiting for the knock on my door?

IF that were my situation. IF i were in a place where the worst acts of humanity manifested themselves right in front of me ... i would hope that i would remember why i was there.

i would hope that i would remember my dreams had brought me to that place in that time in history for a reason. i would hope that i would remain courageous and intentional. i would hope ... more than anything ... that my fears wouldn't blind me to the opportunity to give someone else a chance at the life that i have.

because i believe, now maybe more than ever, that everyone deserves a chance at the life God created them to live.

2008-12-01T12:59:00.000-08:00

i feel like there is much to talk about after my nearly 5 day hiatus, but the only thing running through my mind is the fact that it's december.

december folks.

i feel like it was just february a month ago. is this what happens when you get older? or is something seriously wrong with the universe?

does anyone else feel pressured by the beginning of a new year? so many expectations, goals, new hopes and dreams to be pursued ... aaackkk! I'M NOT READY!!!

i suppose, ready or not, we are now looking straight into the eyes of christmas season madness. funny how that works. i woke up yesterday in mexico, celebrating the last few bites of goodness this thankgiving season brought. and then magically ended up at a winter wonderland in l.a. with christmas lights lining the hills of griffith park and carols ringing in my ears. how do they manage to have this stuff prepared by the day after thanksgiving without us noticing?

the good part is that i'm no longer complaining about the absence of fall. those feelings stand no chance against the hustle and bustle of department stores, seasonal decorations and christmas music playing non-stop on every radio station.

today, i feel i have no choice but to embrace the reality that another year is coming to an end and accept the challenge to prepare for the next. it just seems so premature to be planning for a new year when i still have so much i want to accomplish in this one.

i don't remember being in such angst before about the transition of from one year to another. which takes me back to one of my original questions ... is this what happens when you get older?

2008-11-26T10:49:00.001-08:00

i just heard thunder. i can't believe it.

the sound of cars driving by on rainy streets is putting me in the perfect fall spirit!

i'm so so so thankful that God is personal (not to say that He did all this for little ol' me ... but i'm sure He didn't mind pulling some strings for the millions of us who have been craving the fall-like weather of the eastern half of the country).

we're off to mexico in a few hours and can't wait to dive into relaxation, laughter and the eternal buffet of incredible thanksgiving food. but for the moment, i think i'll just relish in the sweet sound of rain drops and fresh scent that this afternoon shower has brought to the air. happy fall! (finally!)

2008-11-25T10:29:00.000-08:00

(hey, alliteration is fun in small doses)

yesterday i had a giant migraine. haven't had one in a really long time so i was a little confused as to what was actually happening. but after a little nap, a bowl of whole food's delish soup (thanks to my fabulous boyfriend), a little shopping spree (also thanks to the aforementioned boyfriend) and some coldstone, i was well on my way to recovery. did i mention i bought a pair of skinny jeans? yes. first the stupid 80s leggings that i swore i'd never wear and now the freaking skinny jeans. it's really a shame that they fit so well and look so cute (arguably).

anyway. i digress (as usual)...

now that my migraine has dissipated, it's time to really focus on this week of thanks and the goodness that will ensue on our yearly trip to mexico. i say "our" as if it's my trip to begin with. it is not. let's be clear that this year marks my second year of being invited by the masciale and marshall families to attend their thanksgiving celebration in rosarito and i couldn't be more grateful for the invitation. (nor could i be more astonished that i made it to year two ... big step for couples who are dating, wouldn't you say? ... that's a big deal in couples land)

back to the point.

i've always loved thanksgiving. not as much as christmas, but let's be honest, there is a good argument for why thankgiving is a close second to christmas. the food is MUCH better on thanksgiving and God's choice of colors for this season is substantially more aesthetically pleasing than the drab tones of grey that winter brings. maybe we'll continue that discussion later.

for now, i'm excited to create another album of memories this week and am reminded of what really matters. and i have already begun this adventure with the intention to be joyful of all that has been and all that is yet to come.

so. to my family and friends back home ... i love you and am so thankful for your presence in my life. i'll be thinking of you this week while you dine together and wishing we could all be together!

2008-11-21T15:25:00.000-08:00

i don't think i've ever considered myself a real feminist. (stop laughing)

i will admit to getting a little fired up about equal rights for women, but i could say the same for just about any other human being no matter what gender, age, race or ethnicity they may be. it's what i'm passionate about.

but today definitely had a hint of girl power that is usually reserved for my inner most thoughts.

i texted vince first thing this morning about my recently observed downside to getting the puppy we've been dreaming about for the past year. i told him i ran into multiple puppy owners this morning on my way to work who seemed to be up much earlier than they would have liked - all on the account of taking their little fur balls out for a morning walk to relieve themselves. the conversation ensues:
v: i'll probably keep him outside.
k: ok. phew. HEY!! why does it have to be a him?
v: haha
k: oh my gosh. i'm a feminist aren't i?
v: yes.
k: what's that like? to be dating a feminazi?
v: pretty crazy

hmmm ...

THEN, i got into a fun little discussion with one of our top faculty members about the new office arrangements i'm making in celebration of my promotion this week. i said, "i think i'll put a couch over there for the students to hang out ... you know ... create a little living space for them to collaborate and exchange ideas about changing the world. ooo ... and a lamp in the corner would be pretty sweet too ..."
faculty member: i wouldn't get a couch if i were you.
me: why?
faculty member: it'll look bad.
me: it's not like i'm going to keep the door shut.
faculty member: don't take this the wrong way. but you're a woman. the only people who can pull that off those three guys at the end of the hall. sorry, it's a double standard, but that's the way it is. you'll never get away with it.
me: that's dumb. why can't i hang with the big boys?
faculty member: you want to hang with the big boys.
me: oh, i'll hang with the big boys alright. i think they're just afraid i'll win.

who says that?? i work in academe. an MBA program no less. not exactly the place for a 25-year-old female to be touting her awesomeness. this is the quintessential gentleman's club. i mean, i'd fair much better in the private sector at this point.

so here's to all the women who fought for me to even have a voice to make arrogant comments in the presence of a man. and my deepest apologies for embarrassing you by opening my mouth instead of simply tearing them to shreds with my intellect and innovative strategies. :) muahahaha (evil laugh)

oh, and to my boyfriend. who is clearly a saint.

2008-11-19T15:36:00.000-08:00

i'm about to impart some of the wisdom i have gained from my time in the organizational leadership masters program at chapman university.

there's this thing that MIT senior lecturer peter senge has written about called "creative tension." i really dig it (yes, that is exactly the kind of language that will be used to identify theories and best practices in my thesis)

"people often have great difficulty talking about their visions, even when the visions are clear. why? because we are acutely aware of the gaps between our vision and reality." (senge)

hmmm ... tell me more mr. senge.

"but the gap between vision and current reality is also a source of energy. if there was no gap, there would be no need for any action to move toward the vision. we call this gap creative tension."

yes. this sounds vaguely familiar ... continue ...

"there are only two possible ways for the tension to resolve itself: pull reality toward the vision or pull the vision toward reality."

??

"we fight against what is. we are not so much drawn to what we want to create as we are repelled by what we have, from our current reality."

ok ...

"you see, "it's not what the vision is, it's what the vision does. truly creative people use the gap between vision and current reality to generate energy for change ... without constraints there is no creating."

ah. so this is my problem. i live in l.a. it's dynamic ... known for it's creativity.

but i'm a business kind-of gal. some may say that i take myself and life too seriously. i've never really seen that as a negative thing. why? because i get things done. i loved my blackberry for this very reason ... it validated my seriousness. it almost gave me a reason to be all business, all the time. i actually felt like i had permission to be perpetually professional. sickening right?

but i live in l.a. and because of this, i would go to bed at night praying for opportunities to explore my own creative side. i no longer felt content being all business in this bohemian world ... what, with all the filmmakers, artists, musicians ...

so i caved.

i purchased my iPhone. why? because it made me at least look like i was a creative behind my business suit (and consequently ... i started acting like one)

the fact is ... i'm not really a fun person. well, at least not naturally. i would prefer a good meeting or conference over a night out on the town. but this little device has made manifest my alter-ego. and i proudly admit to shutting my office door and having a few fights with my light saber that have been known to defeat the thick aura of stodginess around my desk.

and the best part? it has even, on occasion, cleared the air long enough for me to embrace this little gap that senge talks about and create something beyond my wildest imagination.

so, yes. perhaps this is a little far fetched. perhaps the invention of the iPhone isn't going to bring life to the business people like me across the world. but it gave me an excuse to let loose and explore the possibilities within the tension between the life i have and the life i dream of.

so what feeds your creative side?

2008-11-18T08:58:00.000-08:00

you should know what all this make-over business is about.

we know yesterday's sudden hair change was fueled by a growing anxiety for some visible transformation to take place in the world around me. so today i am following up by explaining not only the developing look of my blog (which is far from finished) but also the unveiling of a state of mind.

my current reality is full of complexities ... much like yours.

i have a past. i have a present. and i have a future. the problem with me is that my past has conditioned me to believe that what lies ahead is not for me. these memories and reiteration of words and actions from years ago, however, have also been my motivation for pushing forward against all odds and towards a life even i thought was impossible. thus, creating new realities and possibilities.

what has come to be is not necessarily a collision (as i once thought) but a state of being. if i refer to the dreams i had five years ago, where i am today is what i would have considered then to be right in the middle of all the action.

in the middle of the life i had only dreamed to have.

and just as this life has come to be through imagination and desperate pursuit, i hope to have the same reflection in another five years of the dreams i hold today of a life that could be mine then.

so why in medias res?
in medias res, also medias in res (latin for "into the middle of things"), is a literary and artistic technique where the narrative starts in the middle of the story instead of from its beginning (ab ovo or ab initio). the characters, setting, and conflict are often introduced through a series of flashbacks or through characters relating past events to each other.

that's why. i'm not sure there is a better way to start telling my story than from where i am now. it's perfect for someone like me who tends to dream big but often allows her past to dictate the way in which she attains her wildest dreams.

so. while i will spend some time from this point forward going back in time to describe what led to my current reality, my primary objective is to document today. because, i'm starting to realize, there is little time for dwelling on the past when a greater future is waiting to be created.

2008-11-17T09:17:00.000-08:00

so i did it.

i finally got tired enough of the unseasonably high temperatures and decided to usher in fall (despite what the weather man says) with the quintessential change of hair color to match the darker months of the year.

i'll be honest. i've had a dreadful attitude for the past few months (some would argue it has been a bit closer to 25 years, but in the interest of time and for the sake of this conversation, let's keep it at a few months). i've complained, almost daily, that fall has yet to come to southern california. my poor boyfriend has the unfortunate task of trying to find every street in l.a. that may actually have trees on it that have turned any shade of orange, red or yellow just to keep me from whining. he even took me to a pumpkin patch the day after halloween and consoled me when i started crying after finding out it had already been shut down (yes. it has gotten that bad. i cried like a 6 year old - no offense to those of you with children who are more emotionally intelligent than i - when i found out that my only hope for discovering remnants of fall was closed with a giant padlock).

it's ok for you to lose respect for me at this point. but for those of you who are from a part of this country where fall brings colors that you can not even describe and air that is so crisp you can't seem to breathe enough ... you may be able to empathize.

fall is an excuse. well, at the very least, it's my excuse. an excuse to change ... to embrace something new. an excuse to buy a new shirt or get a new hairdo or spend more time outside with ymy favorite hot beverage and simply relish in the beauty that surrounds me.

it's my favorite season. but i had to sacrifice it in order to live in the center of the life i have now. which, in the big scheme of things, doesn't seem all that traumatizing.

so instead of moping around and waiting for everything else to change so that i feel i have permission to do the same ... i decided to pay a whopping $11.43 for my auburn hair color and move on with my life ...

to be continued