Guest Post by Brandon Fell Change. Change can be a million things. The word change can radiate a range of impact wider than the pipes set forth in Mariah Carey's rendition of "All I Want for Christmas Is You", (which I'm administering a free pass to play year-round by the way), yet as drab as a motivational speech from Ben Stein. Think about the last time your company underwent a change. They probably invested time (which is money), resources (which is money), and money (which, is money). In summation, they spent a lot of money to facilitate a smooth transition from point A to point B. Yet, for some reason that little 6 letter word typically projects a state of fear. Sometimes it may be warranted, other times not so much. You can change the sheets on the bed (blah), change your major in college (crap), change jobs (double-crap), and lying just beyond the horizon in my little world, change something that up until a few months ago would have induced an eloquent response along the lines of me telling you where you could go shove an ambiguous object. Of course, that something is coasts (alert the troops! Hide the women and children!). Never in my 28.74 years on this planet would I have even entertained the idea of anything but east coast living. And for beautiful reasons. Family, friends, PSU football games with childhood friends, Philly sports, in a word: home. So as I set out to embark on a fairly extreme domicile uprooting, a guy with 28+ perfect right-side years on his resume moves from a place of comfort, a place of the known's, and armed with what I could only try to describe as a little voice of reasoning who lies somewhere between the white angel on your right shoulder and the red devil on your left shoulder. For shits and gig's, we'll put him in a blue outfit. Kinda like Papa Smurf. He's not supposed to represent good or evil, he's just here to say "hey man, check your shit." Roger that Papa, I hear you man, but like a LeBron James pre-game chalk toss, poof...I'm gone. It is fitting that I traded in my sexy Infiniti (tear drop) for a Nissan X-Terra which, as I've come to find out, was first marketed by Nissan as everything you need, nothing you don't. After folding the rear seats down to make a big open space, I look back at my personal belongings - my life, if you will - and see everything I need, and by default, nothing I don't. Ironic isn't it? What do I need? Clothes? (My golf clubs, c'mon). Support from family and friends in my wake? Open arms and support awaiting me in Frisco. (I realize you people don't like the word Frisco. Well, I don't like being told I threw snow balls at Santa Claus. Check mate.) Anyway, here I am rolled up into a support sandwich. We're here for you B! We ALL love you! (Ok it isn't nearly THAT dramatic.) While this change bears lengthy exchanges with Papa Smurf, what lies on the left side patches up these reservations in a way that, put simply, if everyone was fortunate enough to have someone like her, one wouldn't need to search very far for excuses to smile, and the argument against the glass half full would forever be deemed obsolete. We will be eagerly trading in the gift of sporadic anticipation and excitement to see each other over the last year and a half, the 3,000 miles, and the 3 hour time zone difference for the chance at a forever. See? Change doesn't have to be so scary, does it? In a nation where we read to the right, look left to right at stop signs, and even do the Cupid Shuffle to the right, the right, the right the right the right, going against the grain won't always give you splinters. See you on the left side. (But don't worry Mom. I'll be back.)
0 Comments
It was our second to last day in Bondi, Australia and B and I were exploring a few shops in our hostess' lovely sea side neighborhood; Me on the hunt for a last minute souvenir, B patiently carrying our beach gear in tow. Upon entering a small gifts boutique, I found a darling set of painted ceramic drawers within a blue wooden frame. I picked it up to examine closer, delighted at the find, and immediately gasped as I tilted the piece just a little...too...far...watching in horror as the middle drawer slid out of its frame, shattering to bits on the wood floor below.
I had been struggling against rising anxious thoughts all day (that did not seem to stem from any particular cause because, duh, I was on vacation after all), and this moment sent me utterly swirling. As I stooped to clean up the mess, fighting back tears while profusely apologizing to the shop owner, B gently took my shaking hand (sensing my irrational panic setting in big time) and said "Trish. It's OK. We can fix this...". I purchased the now slightly imperfect piece out of clumsy guilt and we left for the beach. Where, for the next few hours, I sat next to my man under the Aussie sun, trying to slow down my thoughts and my heart rate. I briefly touched on my anxiety a few months ago and to be honest, I don't want to cloud this post with a plethora of musings and introspections on that subject. I've got them, that's for sure! And I plan on revisiting the topic someday when it feels right. But for now, I mostly want to use this little story to share some really exciting news with you all. Are you ready? Here it comes... Last weekend B thoughtfully surprised me with a replacement piece for my souvenir--a tiny, handmade, ceramic drawer made by an artist he sought out to recreate it. Swoon. And because this is simply the type of man he is...because we have come to care for one another in ways that are so authentic, open, nuturing and genuinely "us"...because we are willing and able to hold space for each other in all our individually quirky and weird ways, we have decided to say goodbye to our days of long distance love and officially move in together. Or more specifically, B has bravely decided to pack up his life in Philadelphia to start a new chapter with me, here, in San Francisco! {HUGE smile on my face just typing that} With a change like this happening in just a few weeks, I am hyper aware my anxiety could make a mean attempt to get the best of me. I know that I have a tendency to remember less than sunny periods of my life and fearfully apply them to present day scenes; that I sometimes swim in a sea of regrets, when I should barely even be wading in them. I know the worry filled what if? game all too well, having played it so often over the years that my personal deck of self-doubt questions has begun to have a worn, vintage look. When it is no longer legible, I will likely, subconsciously, replace it with a fresh stack. But here's the bit of truth that is helping me stay so clearheaded and elated about this big news...the truth that I'll carry with me from now until the day we unpack the last box: Yes, it would be foolish to think there won't ever be trying times, or that a new set of challenges won't crop up once we shack up (sharing my studio apartment for the time being is basically going from long distance, to no distance!). But it would be equally, if not more, foolish to let the inevitable possibilities of hiccups stop me from being excited about this; from being so, so appreciative of him and our partnership. Something I did not expect (a slightly random reunion with an old high school crush) turned into something incredibly wonderful. So I can choose to either let fear and anxiety dictate my life, my choices and my happiness, or I can choose to just enjoy this process; to just enjoy each other as it all unfolds. And enjoy is precisely what I plan to do. The mildly amusing part about the replacement drawer that I would be remiss not to mention is that the measurements are actually slightly off (it's OK, babe!). Basically, it's not a perfect fit. And yet for me, it is pretty damn perfect. It is beautiful in both its hand painted, unique charm as well as what it stands for. The gesture of love and support it carries in its existence is one that I hope to continue exchanging regularly, especially as we begin our next grand adventure together. Trusting, appreciating and enjoying. I am one lucky girl, don't you think? In Fearless Gratitude, Trish Guest Post by Janice Nicol
Hello, Grateful Lifers. Trish recently joined me for happy hour cocktails at an SF bar to celebrate my 30th birthday, a few hours before my second celebration destination: Disney World. As I was dashing out to catch a red-eye to Orlando, she left me with a pointed question: what’s it like to kick off a very adult decade in the land of children’s dreams? I’m reporting back for y’all here. First, know that although I would love to feel the lifelong magic and excitement for Disney’s grand imagination that others do, I just don’t. I haven’t seen a Disney movie since Aladdin, circa 1992. I also don’t have kids. I’m not married, honeymooning, or being proposed to any time soon. Essentially, I’m the Magic Kingdom’s least likely customer. But when my kid-at-heart partner sprung the idea on me a few months back, the destination met my criteria of 1. warm (too much San Francisco fog!), 2. cheap airfare, and 3. somewhere I’ve never been. So, I bought some white cutoffs, borrowed a friend’s metallic gold fanny pack, packed five types of sunscreen, and ventured east. My boyfriend and I arrived at our Port Orleans Riverside room armed with a park hopper pass and detailed Google Calendar breakdown of our strategy for conquering all five parks in our four Florida days. This plan was bolstered by three apps that algorithmically optimize a park’s itinerary based on live open-sourced wait times. We were ready to conquer the Kingdom in a way no child could. That said, the cast member who checked us in gave me a ‘Happy Birthday’ button -- the ‘i’ in Janice dotted with Mickey’s visage -- which meant that every Disney employee we encountered wished me some variation of “Happy Birthday Princess!.” The ever-supportive BF stood by me as I sported that button for four straight days. From our first destination, a lazy river loop at Typhoon Lagoon, to the last, one more Space Mountain ride as the clock struck midnight, I loved relinquishing control of my happiness over to Disney. Sure, they couldn’t quite accept my life choices -- I was frequently welcomed as Mrs., despite two last names on the res and visible lack of ring, and I was impelled to open a pretend engagement ring on-screen for four hundred Monsters Inc comedy show attendees -- but the illusion of a simpler world was too lucrative. Life could be sensory, playful, gravity-free. "So did you pack your lunch pail for your first day?!", B asked as I waited for the bus yesterday morning. "No! I'm a bad mom to myself! Can I have some money to buy, instead?", I giggled in response. "No. You'll just spend it on Nutter Butter's..." For almost 3 years I have loved playing the role of Joyologist at Weebly HQ in San Francisco. I have loved planning events, working to boost company morale, camaraderie and overall employee wellness. I have loved watching this team grow from myself and 8 young men to myself and 14 young men...then outgrowing our tiny office into our current, beautiful space....then welcoming our second female hire...and still growing...growing...growing. I have loved it all, even when I didn't feel like I loved it. But it was time. Time to explore my potential, my creativity, my skillset; time to spread my wings and move on... To another role with Weebly! Ha! Did I scare ya for a second there? As if I would actually leave Weebly...psshh. I'll be a barnacle on the wall they have to scrape off before I willingly leave this company. I'm one bad happy hour away from an orange W tattoo on my butt for pete's sake. Leave Weebly? You've been day drinking again. I am going to admit something a little humbling to you, though: Yesterday, my first day not sitting up front, greeting everyone as they walked in, playing the Joyologist part I created and feel so comfortable in, was pretty weird. Not good or bad. Just weird. As I took my seat towards the back of our open floor plan, amongst a wonderful group of fellow Weeblies, I began to get the sinking feeling of shit. did I just make a huge mistake? I suddenly felt incredibly...small. Inexperienced. New. This was a jarring emotion to settle into--me, the chick who held her own amongst 14 boys for a year, suddenly felt like the new girl. I did not feel very brave about this change at.all. and let me tell you, I didn't like it one bit. This is so weird, I texted to B as I peered out from behind my new computers, eying everyone as if I hadn't just seen them all the day before (or for the past 3 years). I feel so eerie! Like a big fat phony. A little kid at her dad's work. Well at least you got your Nutter Butter in your Hello Kitty Lunch pail, he shot back in his typical jokes-can-be-supportive fashion...and these things take time. No rush. Ah yes, time. The great equalizer, the one thing we cannot rush, even if we try. One of my favorite TGL posts ever actually came from B just a few months ago, and is one in which he talks about what it's like to change careers, including taking a leap to feel fulfilled in your work. He essentially encourages us to go for it, and go for it wearing the biggest smile possible (a hard cheese, as he calls it). It takes hard work and commitment for sure. But it also takes a positive attitude. So, I put on my hard cheese at Weebly...which is really a place I am lucky to consider my second home already...and completed a full 45 minutes of Marketing pieces before needing to tend to Joyologist transition tasks. Phew. 45 minutes. The team may have glanced a time or two over to me with concerned looks at my odd cheese face (or maybe not, nothing I do surprises them at this point), but I dove into those 45 minutes with more passion and excitement than I've felt in a long time. OK. It's time for a self pep talk. These are the facts: I hold a degree in Communications (concentration in Advertising and Public Relations). I have 3 years of "study" under my belt on all things Weebly; product, team, customers, goals. I really love to write. I'm pretty good at connecting. I believe in this company's mission. I have ideas. And I have the guts (gulp, most days) to see them through. Being on our Marketing team is a good fit...I can do this! Yesterday I was reminded that, even in the most ideal scenarios, change can be f*cking uncomfortable. But it is also very, very necessary. It is the natural way of life and growth. And it's OK to feel f*cking uncomfortable in the midst of change. It's part of the process that keeps us, I believe, humble and earnest and open; it's part of the process we need to learn to trust most, as it includes our unique capabilities and talents. It includes the strength in who we authentically are and what makes us come alive. It includes our worthiness. (Note to self: you are worthy of this positive change) Plus, it's not brave if we're not scared, right? On to day 2.... Cheers to the cheese. In Gratitude, Trish I used to say that expression to my elementary school aged YMCA summer-campers when they would inevitably drop half of their pb&j's, Popsicles, goldfish, etc on the dirt inside our picnic tents. The point was to make them giggle in the midst of their disappointment, which they almost always did, before popping said dirt-covered treat in their mouths. Although, I probably shouldn't be too smug about my giggle producing capabilities, considering this was a crowd that also got a rise out of my announcing "Arts & Crafts" time as "Farts and Crafts" time...but I digress. A few weeks ago I spent a sunny afternoon helping my coworker pick out and re-pot a handful of window-box friendly plants. It was so lovely...calming, even...having my hands in the dirt, gently placing tiny, green (and sometimes spikey! succulents are the new, hip houseplants, ya'll) treasures into his various planters. I am grateful he requested my assistance and flattered he trusted my nature-in-the-home knowledge with the task. Allow me to humble brag about my green thumb: Once, in elementary school, our class planted corn seeds in Dixie cups as part of a science unit. Most of the kids threw their cups away at the end of that lesson, tiny green sprouts of life and all, but I decided to take mine home to re-plant in the family garden. It's not often that you'll find just one standing alone, but wouldn't you know that single stalk of corn grew up to my 2nd story bedroom window and ended up yielding 2 ears of edible corn cobs! They weren't the prettiest, juiciest or most flavorful corn cobs in Jersey...but they were a much loved product of my youthful care. I was (am!) so proud of that gardening feat. The point of all this succulent/corn/God made dirt talk is that I think sometimes city living has a way of distancing us...me, specifically...from the earth in a way that is a bit sad; trading in an actual jungle (hell, even just a basic backyard) for a concrete one, if you will, certainly has its disadvantages. Cities are, from top to bottom, made by man. And man has a way of being immensely ego driven, superficial, controlling and afraid. The natural world, however, is the realest of real in its purest form. Which means it is not only perfect exactly the way it is--intuitive, intelligent and authentic to its core, but it is accepting of what it is. It evolves as it needs to. It adapts. It goes with an actual flow of life and it is free. Oh my gosh. It is so, so free. But man is as much a part of the Universe and this Earth as the plants, animals and ecosystems in the deepest of jungles (and the smallest of window boxes), and I think it would benefit our world to never forget that. To trust our instincts, to trust the process; to take care of one another and this planet, tune into our spirits (pipe down, ego!) and be who we are in our purest forms. To live simply, but deliberately. And to be free. I'm not exactly suggesting you make dirt the latest topping of choice on your snacks and I'm certainly not looking down on those of us who dwell within a bustling city vs. a farm full of corn (I LOVE SF), but I am hoping we'll each remember to tune into that side of our beings that really thrives in its connection to Mama Earth from time to time. I'm hoping we'll remember how good it feels to be outside, hands in the soil, feet in the water, face to the sun (wearing SPF, of course). I'm hoping we will do this for ourselves because God made dirt and darlings, dirt don't hurt. love and light, Trish Confession: I am a bit of a hoarder. Except, I like to think of myself as more a sentimental saver who struggles with parting from even the smallest items tied to a person, place, or memory. Hoarder just sounds so...disturbing. And I mean if you've ever seen an actual episode of A&E's "Hoarders", I am practically a minimalist (this logic helps me sleep at night, so we'll go with it). What started out as just a casual lady date with Kim (I adore the happy salad photo of her you see to the left; it's like she's praying for veggies and voila! manifesting mama.) turned into a major closet(s) over-haul that left me feeling cleaner, neater, more organized and lighter. Freer, even. And free is always my most desired state of being. Let me summarize how it all played out: * Ran into the always lovely and luminous Jan, recruited (read: suckered) her into hanging out (read: cleaning). * Let's just do my Christmas stuff today, I said. This step alone will help me. * Realized I had...no joke...9 Christmas stockings (one for each of Santa's reindeer, maybe?). * Upon horrifying stocking realization, caved to the ladies firm but loving encouragement to dig deeper into my closets. * And dig deeper we did. While it turned out to be quite the giggle filled process (me wearing my First Holy Communion veil the whole time and trying to "gift" things to Jan and Kim...aka pawn clothes, jewels, stationary, etc off on them...for example), it also was a bit revealing. Much of the clutter came from sentimental items that weren't actually as sentimental as I once believed them to be--things from people who no longer played a positive role in my life, or from periods of my 29 years that frankly were serving as a reminder of unhappiness more than anything else. As each cardboard box was opened, the "keep" pile being neatly placed in new, plastic storage bins and the "please-don't-keep-no-seriously-why-god-do-you-have-this" into Goodwill bags, I couldn't help but wonder why I had been holding on to so much unnecessary stuff...most of which I didn't even realize was still living at the bottom of these boxes. Am I slightly masochistic? Do I struggle with letting go? Am I hiding away discomfort to "not have to deal with it" right now? Do I harbor guilt in giving away old gifts or items I fear I'll need someday? WHAT IF THE PERSON WHO GAVE ME THIS 8 YEARS AGO ASKS TO SEE IT (in a hushed voice: even though I haven't seen them in 6)?! The answer is probably a mix of yes's to these questions and others. But that's not really what I want to make a point of in this post. What I really want to say is that my favorite part of this process was spending the whole afternoon with Kim and Jan. Like two little mamas, they each patiently listened, efficiently re-folding t-shirts and re-bubble wrapping ornaments, as I told the stories that came up for me (both joyful and not so joyful) as each new storage bin was filled and sealed. They teased me for having an envelope labeled "calculator batteries", but not having a calculator (I know. I don't know.). They didn't make me feel badly for wanting to keep certain things (this is my Disney princess coloring book I use to de-stress therefore hush and put it in the craft bin) and they celebrated when I released others. They grouped and labeled and laughed with me. I felt supported. I felt encouraged. I felt loved--All things I have made a point to seek out in my relationships here in California, to feel worthy of, and to hopefully give back in exchange. So I've got double the closet space now, thanks to these two little mamas with the big hearts. I've got double the ability to welcome in the new, double the breathing room and double the sense of freedom from clutter because of their supremely kind efforts. I've still got 4 Christmas stockings.... ...but I've got double the reasons to continue feeling grateful for the SF family I've built for myself; for the little mamas who lift my spirits and, on a random Saturday, will help me get my apartment's shit together. love and light, Trish After winning an award for Best.Boyfriend.Ever over the weekend via this little surprise stunt, B continued to give me the warm fuzzies until yesterday morning when he sadly had to hop back on a plane to head east again. Meh. Sad faces. But, I am still so thankful for the time we did get to spend together and for all of his tricks and treats...Including his hand made book called The Grateful Boyfriend (that colorful guy you see above), which was 100 days worth of unique love and gratitude filled memories of me and us. Pretty dreamy, right? Damn he is good... On Tuesday, B escorted me to a coaching session with T and it made me happy-giggle so much to see them both embrace each other like old friends; huge smiles and "it is so good to finally meet you's" exchanged. After B left us to it, I began chatting about the weekend, my birthday, and all things love and relationships. And then I began to confess, lump in my throat, about how deeply I have come to care for B and how...though I try to fight it...there are moments when I simply don't feel worthy of the loving kindness he gives to me (pours on me, really); that I worry one day he'll wake up and feel differently. That I'll hurt him, lose him or make a general mess of things because that's what "girls like me" do. That a part of me feels as if my life has become a mix of the best and most classic romantic comedies; Tom Hanks to my Meg Ryan kinda deal. That this can't possibly be something I am worthy of and that I am anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop so I can finally just say, see? I knew it. Too good to be true. That I love him, very much, and therefore I am putting us both at risk. In typical coaching fashion...and with a side of T being extra special, hence the lump in her throat as well...she then asked me "And what's it like to live in fear? What is life like, living in fear?" The answer, of course, is not a pretty one. So 29 is a year of new levels of fearlessness, from the ordinary to the extraordinary. It is the year of vulnerability and open-hearted, intimate exchanges. Of believing "girls like me" are worthy of big, bold and beautiful lives (and men as romantic as B). Of knowing love is the only rational act and thus acting out of love, often. Of pushing boundaries and saying farewell to the comfort zone. *gulp* Of writing, exploring, traveling, dancing simply because it feels nourishing to do these things...because my spirit feels most alive in them. Of being present and trusting the process more than ever. Of gratitude for it all. Emphasis on the all. And of owning with every ounce of my being the truth and strength and courage in this: "She could never go back and make some of the details pretty. All she could do was move forward and make the whole beautiful." - Terri St. Cloud Hello, 29. You're looking good, my friend. love and light, Trish Lately I've been thinking a lot about a part of the human condition that can sometimes be fairly unpleasant: the overwhelming desire to be right. I've seen it pop up in a handful of my own relationships recently and I've listened to the woes of friends struggling in this desire, too, much more than usual. As I've heard their stories and considered their positions (many of which are quite justifiable), my main questions to them in response have been: Why? Why is it so important for you to be told "OK, you're right" in order to move forward? And then, What are you sacrificing for this desire? Yes, folks want to be understood. Heck, half the time folks just want to be heard. I wholeheartedly get that. But I ask you: at what cost? What is the price you are paying to feel the fleeting gratification in an acknowledgement of "right" and is it, I wonder, truly worth it? Now, this doesn't mean we should openly allow negative behaviors (or opinions) of others to continue affecting us by shrugging our shoulders with a sad oh well, nothing to be done; this is not what I mean by the gentler path to take in the possibility of finding peace. We certainly do not (should not!) need to condone or accept anything in our lives that makes our spirits feel small or pushes us down a path we don't feel fit to be taking. But I wonder what would happen if we gave up the need to be right in order to just be, instead... Some harder learned truths about fighting to be "right": The degree to which the perceived need to be right affects the possibility of making a safe, smooth exit from an unpleasant situation is the same as, directionally speaking, continuously making a right turn to get out of a bad place and on to your desired destination; you just end up driving in circles, landing back exactly where you started, over and over again, each time with a greater degree of frustration, disappointment and regret. Everyone approaches all disagreements from varying levels of consciousness. No matter how great we are with communication, we are never fully sharing the same experience with others. You can't rationalize with an irrational person (or a stubborn one...or an ego sensitive one...), so consider the real triumph in releasing, instead. So this is where I am now and where I encourage you to join me; releasing the desire to be right. Creating a safe space around myself that welcomes differing opinions while also leaving room for these opinions to gracefully exit my bubble of self truths so that I may continue to live my life in whatever way works best for me. If folks want to chase you down, wagging their fingers, spewing off their laundry list of offenses (and defenses) in the hopes you will bend to them, it will be at the expense of their own wasted energy...energy that could be so, so much better spent...not yours. Let them be the ones to turn in at night exhausted and defeated while you can rest easy knowing the peace in your soul is self-created and not stemming from a moment of ego-based satisfaction. My mental mantra is (per the suggestion of Ms. Gabby Bernstein): I accept that you are suffering too, and I forgive you. I accept that you are suffering too, and I release this. I love this quote from Paulo Coelho: "We human beings have enormous difficulty in focusing on the present; we're always thinking about what we did, about how we could have done it better, about the consequences of our actions, and about why we didn't act as we should have. Or else we think about the future, about what we're going to do tomorrow, what precautions we should take, what dangers await us around the next corner, how to avoid what we don't want and how to get what we have always dreamed of." I'd argue the same sentiment can be true for how we project these past/future swirlings on to others, as well, in our struggle to be right: Never allowing the peace in the present to take root by ping ponging back and forth from each end of the worry/fear spectrum. It's exhausting, no? It's like what my dad tells me: live your life, kid. So just keep living your life. Right here, right now. Be the living example or proof you are looking to verbally provide in a disagreement or point of conflict in your days. Let it go, let it be, move forward instead of in circles. And Be Free, Trish Hi Trish, I am a long time reader of your blog (but I've never commented). Love your message and kind of feel like we'd maybe be buds if I lived on the west coast (in a totally non-creepy way, of course!) :) I know you are in a long distance relationship and I was wondering if you have any advice on how you make that work? I am in one myself (it's really new) and it's crazy the amount of question marks that continually go through my head about how this is going to work... Either way, love your blog! thanks for the daily dose of gratitude. xo, J Dear J, As mentioned in my separate note to you, thank you so much for reaching out and for being a Grateful Lifer! I am incredibly humbled by your kind words and if you are ever on the west coast, let's definitely grab a coffee like old buds ;) Brandon and I are touched you would allow us the opportunity to take a crack at a response...it felt so good to discuss these things together, and we hope our personal thoughts are beneficial to your own long distance situation! Plus, any excuse to talk about my feelings (as my friends and I say, "I just have so.many.feelings!") you know I will pounce on... 1. Flirt! Girl, you gotta keep the romance extra alive when you are long distance. In some ways, because we don't have easy physical access to one another, it's as if we are constantly courting. We are fortunate to live in a world where there are multiple means of communication, so as B says: A little creativity can allow the distance to serve as a tool. Quick example: send old-fashioned snail-mail (as Trish calls it.) When is the last time you opened the mailbox and got something that wasn't a bill? 2. Allow yourself to be vulnerable. From day 1 of our relationship, about a year and some change ago, we have continued to explore the joys of authentic connection found in being vulnerable with one another. It can feel scary and humbling to let your guard down, but when you don't have the benefit of face to face, physical connection, vulnerability becomes even more valuable to the growth of your partnership. You have to be totally yourself and allow the other person sacred space to be his or her own self, too. 3. Don't set specific times to connect. This may seem counter intuitive to keeping a long distance relationship going, but avoiding making many on-the-calendar phone or Skype dates has worked wonders for us. Not only are we 3,000 miles apart, but we are also living with a 3 hour time difference between us. It places far too much pressure on each other when we try and set specific times to talk on the phone; someone almost always either feels rushed or forced while the other feels disappointed. We've found our own rhythm of keeping in touch simply by going with the flow of our separate but connected lives; we reach out when we want, but remain flexible and patient if the other person is not as available (including emotionally) in that moment. Or as Brandon says: Make love, not chores. The more you treat the relationship like a task, the less fun it becomes. Life happens, so when it does, move like a jellyfish. By being flexible and understanding that things are hard enough being apart, why allow the uncontrollable's to fuel the fire? Which of these sound better: setting a specific time to call, and someone goes MIA, or getting a random call just to say hello, or I miss you, or I hope your day is going well. Of course the latter. 4. Shift your perspective. Instead of always looking at the distance as a curse, try to see the silver lining in it. I really liked B's thoughts on this: You both saw something in each other that was clearly enticing enough to test the hurdle of distance. The important thing to realize is that each and every relationship is a unique dynamic, born of the interactions and weirdness we each bring to the table (side note from Trish: we love weird!). To illustrate, I've spoken with people who swear traveling every week for work is the best thing that's ever happened to their relationship. If you think about it, this puts the "absence makes the heart grow fonder" on continuous loop. Because you are already in a long distance relationship, it will be easy to illustrate. Recall the butterflies you get each time the two of you have gone days, weeks, or god forbid months apart. Now shift to the moment when you or he steps out from baggage claim, off the train, out of the taxi, or whatever mode of transportation reunites you both. Although not ideal, the distance almost fosters a prolonging of that giddy, new love feeling. 5. Trust the process. You'll hear me say this a lot on my blog as it's one of my core life mottos that has served me well over the past year, especially. Placing your concentration on what will be or what comes next...or even basing your tomorrow off of what has happened in the past...leads you astray from the present moment. B and I have found that when we take things one day at a time, enjoying one another right here and now, there is an ease to our distance. And when we are together? Shew, it is so very wonderful. Since re-connecting over a year ago, B and I have spent time in San Francisco, San Diego, Las Vegas, DC, Philly, New York, Hawaii, Australia and Florida (not to mention a plethora of other west and east coast small towns) together. If I could summarize a single tip on how we made all of that happen, it would be by trusting the process--not fighting to be one thing or another, but simply by going with the flow and letting it all unfold as naturally as possible. 6. "Normal" relationship advice still applies. Love, give, respect, trust, laugh and play; be kind, be honest, be open, be silly. Whatever pieces of advice have resonated with you before in non-long distance relationships should continue to be important to you, now. 7. Throw out this list and do what works for you. As Brene Brown says, "No one can define what's meaningful for us." Although these things have helped our relationship continue to grow and thrive, you should always do what feels right for you and your boyfriend above all else. Plenty of well intentioned folks have offered tidbits of advice to B and I on this subject, but following our own two hearts is what has really nurtured our seeds of love to continue blooming. Good luck! With Love, Trish and Brandon A few weeks ago when my very dear friends Kell & Britt came out to San Francisco for a much needed east coast meets west coast visit, the subject of friendships and social lives came up in one of our many wine fueled girly chats (good grief I live for girly chats). I attempted to explain both my current struggles in balancing/maximizing play time/rest time and my increasingly difficult relationship with one friend in particular, whom I've felt a bit used by as of late. To summarize; it's become more and more apparent that this person may be more interested in the social circles I can open for them, than a friendship with me specifically. This changing dynamic between us has lead to my increased sensitivity to all things socially related. Even at 28 (almost 29!) years young, I fully admit I still get hurt over feeling excluded...especially because I work so hard to connect others and make them feel included. In fact, I'd say that's a large part of my pays-the-bills job at Weebly: working to make folks feel positively connected. So, when the efforts are not reciprocated, my spirit doesn't feel very big. "Yea...totally...I'm with you", Britt said. "We have major FOMO." "Um...excuse me? FOMO?" I replied, "Should I be offended right now?" Britt (laughing): "No no...FOMO! Fear Of Missing Out!" After I got over the fact I'm finally old enough to not be hip with the kid's lingo anymore (I'm still wrapping my head around YOLO), I let this term switch on a major light bulb. I realized I've been feeling some major FOMO lately coming at me from multiple directions. I see my east coast friends continuing to be amazing and loving and successful and a part of me aches to be with them; to share in their joys and journeys first hand. In addition to that, when you live in a bad ass city like SF (or in Britt's case, NYC), the mini corner-of-the-world you inhabit is truly your oyster. At any given time there are probably dozens of appealing activities happening at once; these places are a foodies, dancers, hipsters, music/culture/festival/art-lovers heaven and it's hard not to get sucked (or pressured) into a 24/7 social scene. And finally, my relationship with B has continued to grow and flourish in ways that make me deeply wish we were together more often to share in day-to-day life. I have a feeling I'm not alone in this occasional insecurity. Social media makes it 10x harder to fight FOMO, amirite? It's an odd challenge our generation is faced with. One scroll of a news feed can yield a seemingly endless supply of coulda/shoulda/woulda/what about me? (you can read my thoughts on that here). So how do we make peace with having to balance it all? How do we not let this (#whitegirlproblem) overwhelm us to the point it takes away from all the good we are blessed with being surrounded by? I came up with a few suggestions on how to move past FOMO: 1. Don't take anything personally. Honey--the world keeps on spinning no matter how you choose to spend your time, or who might offend you with their choices...so be lighter. Observe your/their behavior without judgement and then just keep living your life. Hardly anything truly is as it seems from the outside. 2. Be Present. The more time you spend thinking you should be/could be/need to be elsewhere (or stressing over what-comes-next) the more you are going to miss out on the joys surrounding you in the present moment, which is the only time we are ever guaranteed. While practicing being present, you can also try to..... 3. Give thanks for where you are, what you have, and who you're with. Shift your perspective from scarcity thinking to abundance and gratitude thinking. It will only serve to lighten your heart and bring in more people/things/adventures to be thankful for. The more you practice this, the easier it will become to take notice of your (ordinary to extraordinary) blessings. 4. Don't compare yourself to others. I posted a quote a few days ago about this and I want to repeat it again, now; Comparison is the death of happiness. Stop peering over your neighbors life fence, pining for their perceived greener grass and instead get to tending your own dang garden; dig deep, sweat, pour love into what you have...feel the sunshine on your face or the rain falling to your feet while you're at it. I love what B said last week about having an attitude worth helping--you are a unique, powerful being who is worthy of good. Own this! Get moving! Your corner of the Universe will bloom in ways you never imagined if you stop comparing yourself to others and simply embrace what you have and stop fighting your own natural growth. 5. There is a difference between fitting in and belonging, which is actually what we crave as humans during a FOMO moment. Brene Brown says it perfectly: "Belonging is the innate human desire to be part of something larger than us. Because this yearning is so primal, we often try to acquire it by fitting in and seeking approval, which are not only hollow substitutes for belonging, but often barriers to it." Don't forget you belong to yourself, first and foremost...(and you will always be enough). No FOMO, Trish After almost a year of planning, researching, building, co-creating, dreaming and expanding, my company is thrilled to announce the launch of our freshly re-designed and envisioned website building platform under the love filled motto of Start something. {**insert excited applause and rallying cheers of encouragement**} It ain't always easy to start something, amirite? It can be humbling, a little scary and oh.my.word ever so jarring on those comfortable vs. vulnerable levels. It takes real courage to put ourselves out there; to be you, me, us in the most authentic ways. Take my blog, for example. Being a writer is pretty much the only thing I've ever consistently wanted to be since I was a kid and while my spirit felt really ready to share via this medium years ago, my ego often spoke louder in a voice of concern and worry, causing me to silence and question what I really wanted. To this day I occasionally take a deep breath before hitting "post" and then sweat out whether or not my writing is worthy of being shared...whether or not anyone is actually listening...for some time afterward. But I go for it. Each time I log in, I'm taking a leap. And I'm so glad Weebly is the tool I use to keep The Grateful Life growing. I am so glad Weebly is the tool I rely on to hold me accountable for my best life possible. Obviously, folks could point out my Weebly employee status and note I am a bit biased in my support of this platform. And, really, they wouldn't be wrong--I am incredibly proud to be a part of this team and am pretty much big-mama-style beaming at their successes thus far. But I also deeply wish to emphasize how this same status allows me a unique peek into the inner workings (the spirit, if you will) of this company; how it gives me a pulse on the very, very positive energy these creative minds wish to pump out into the great wide web and subsequently, the world. They didn't ask me to write this post. In fact, they'll probably all blush when they see it and then modestly shoo me away so they can keep working without my annoying quirk (we're calling it a quirk, just go with it) of worrying if their spirits feel big or small. But here is what I want you to know about the Weebly team, based solely on my own behind-the-scenes, personal observations, experiences and exchanges with them over the past 2.5 years: My dear Friends, Grateful Lifers, entrepreneurs and dreamers--they are rooting for you. They (we!) are excited to see how our users--past, present and future--will keep utilizing this product to help respond to that piece of themselves that says they've got something special to offer. Whether it be tangible services and products, or messages, visions and ideas--we want you to show us what you've got. We want you to know that is your ticket to success. That piece of you that desires to be heard and to connect in a plethora of unique ways? That is your innate creativity (we all have it, I promise) and we are genuinely listening and hoping to support you in bringing this satisfaction, joy, and sense of purpose into the limelight of your life. So, if you have been needing a final sign to follow your heart and really start something...consider this it. Speak your truth. Give permission to your passions. Instead of asking your spirit what if it doesn't work out?, dare to ask what if it does? And if there comes a time in your journey to your best life possible where you question your capabilities and wonder whether anyone out there truly believes in you, please remember: We do. love and light, Trish Sparked in the magazine section of Walgreens last night, I present to you a list of 5 signs you are pushing 30 (ie 5 signs yours truly is clearly pushing 30): 1. Cosmopolitan magazine gets glossed right over in the magazine rack (even if the same suggested sex positions/tricks didn't already seem ridiculous, you don't think your late twenties body could handle them, anyway) for Real Simple. Just look at that flower arrangement! I must have it on my Spring kitchen table-scape immediately. 2. When making arrangements for visiting friends, overnight trips or "I-may-have-to-crash-at-your-place" drinking plans...the first question to pop in your mind is Will I have a bed? Floor sleeping and couch squishing put a cramp in your neck just thinking about them. This lady needs a proper bed, or she is staying at a hotel. 3. Speaking of bedtime: your nightly routine is becoming increasingly complicated and long. Not exfoliating your face, applying anti-aging serum, brushing (with an electric toothbrush), flossing, mouth-washing, hand-creaming, foot-lotioning (sometimes even with little, warm spa socks), hair brushing and probably braiding to avoid snarls, tall glass of water drinking then peeing twice before laying down is...well...not an option. 4. Your purse is getting heavier and bigger. What do you mean you are only bringing that little clutch out tonight!, I exclaim in horror at my 22 year old friend. It has everything I need, she calmly replies. That's not possible, I say. Where do you keep your emergency drugs? Advil? Pepto? (in a hushed tone) GasX? I won't get sick. Tampons? I don't have my period. But what if you get your period? I won't, I'm on the pill. Yes but what if you still get it... Do you not understand how the pill works? *She walks away from me on dangerously high heels...I scurry after her in my flats.* The contents of my bag currently include, but are not limited to: hand sanitzer, my Kindle (boredom strikes when you least expect it, people!), my entire makeup bag, my sunglasses case, my eyeglasses case, eye drops, a mini pharmacy, my wallet, sunscreen, deodorant, a booklet of stamps, a pen, my iPhone, a hair clip, a dozen or so bobby pins, keys, a spare doggy poo bag in case I'm with Lucy and a notebook. OK OK. Two notebooks. But one is really little. 5. Being able to reply to the question "Got any plans this weekend?" with a solid no! is a pleasure and a thrill to rival even the most exciting, best laid calendar of events. You get protective over your plan-less weekend, hoarding it away in your apartment along with old copies of Real Simple magazine and cups of tea out of the same chipped mug for 2 days. Checking off even just 1/2 of your to-do list (post office, groceries, thank you card...yea, that'll do.) sends you into a euphoric state of great accomplishment. Spa socks on your feet, hydrating masque on your face, you revel in radio silence; almost Gollum style referring to your plan-free weekend as your precious. You love an adventure and you love your friends....but 30 is calling and these days are so rare, you know? The list actually goes on, but I am re-evaluating my retirement investments today and must be signing off...(oh gosh. so not early 20's anymore.)... In Gratitude, Trish sister wedding hugs This weekend I had the extreme honor and pleasure of officiating my cousin's (I've got 25 of them, total!) wedding ceremony back home in New Jersey. After getting ordained online (ahh, the beauty of the internet) I was all set in my Reverend-ship to stand in front of 205 guests, joining my darling girl in the union of marriage to her wonderful fiance. To say I was nervous in the minutes leading up to the ceremony would be a bit of an understatement...as I joked to B, I had more cotton in my mouth than after my wisdom tooth extraction surgery. But I managed to keep my cool and read the words I'd worked so hard to write in the months leading up to the wedding, and I am thrilled to know how much my beautiful cousin and her awesome husband loved and appreciated my "sermon". The wedding guests were all so lovely to me afterward--kind, complimentary, encouraging. My spirit felt huge for the rest of the night (in fact, I'm still ridin' the good-vibes waves as I type this) and I was able to freely dance my little heart out, feeling relieved (phew, I didn't throw up) and proud of this accomplishment. It's been a dream of mine to officiate a wedding and I am stoked to check that item off the ol' bucket list. During the final moments of the reception, while family and friends circled around a beaming bride and her adorable new husband, singing the Rusted Root classic Send Me On My Way, and while I laughed, twirled, kicked off my high heels, feeling incredibly grateful and alive in the moment...a tiny voice in my mind suddenly whispered Don't miss your life. If I may, allow me to explain... To be blunt, I have been struggling lately with bouts of crippling anxiety. I plan to talk about this further on a near-future blog post, as it is a deeply important subject to me, but I am allowing myself some more time to really collect my thoughts and feel ready to put them out there. (Note to self: OK little lady, you can't chicken out now). For the time being, I will just say it is a very, very slippery slope, anxiety; your mind swirls, your pulse races and before you know it you are doubting/questioning/fearing every topic your brain erratically jumps to and from. It is humbling, disruptive and saddening. It is overwhelming and it is scary. The past few months I've found myself navigating these anxious waters and it hasn't been very easy for me. I have allowed certain people to make my spirit feel quite small and I have lost the everything is going to be ok mental battle more often than not. Because of this, I have been missing it...(my life, that is)...in a lot of ways. I've missed out on laughter. I've missed out on play. I've missed out on connection. And I've missed out on trusting the process to the degree that has brought me so much joy and good in the past simply because my general bad habit of over-thinking has morphed into a real bitch of a disorder. But I'm dealing. Riding the waves. Learning to ask for help and making it a point to breathe deeply and have more patience with myself and this journey; learning to have more appreciation and love for both of us, as well. So, my sweet readers, I tell you all of this simply because if I could impart one single piece of advice to you--whether this is the 100th post you've read, your very first visit (welcome!) or your very last--it would be exactly what that tiny voice reminded me on Friday: Don't miss your life. Please, I beg you, don't let stress and worry, resentment and grudges, regret and fear (because in my heart of hearts, I know this is all anxiety is--fear at its strongest) prevent you from fully seeing it all unfold; from being deeply invested, present and alive. Let it go; let it be. As a friend once told me, pain is inevitable--but suffering is optional. So kick off your high heels, twirl and laugh. Trust the process. Because as far as we know, you only get one shot at this particularly life and I, for one, really don't want to miss it.... God is Love, Rev Tricia ;) costa rica 2012 A few weeks ago I got selected as a finalist in SaveLoveGive's Facebook/Pinterest board-based contest, the final prize being a trip for 2 to beautiful Costa Rica. It was a simple contest: most votes at the end = tickets to hold baby monkeys with bff in paradise (my personal interpretation). I was so excited and deeply wanted to win in order to snag my favorite gal pal, A, and head out for an international celebration of about 19 years of friendship. My friends were amazing to me during this time, to say the least. My coworkers were a dream as well. They all dusted off their pom-poms and high kicked their support for me all over Facebook, email, Twitter, etc, to the point that my gratitude tank was tipping over into my humbled cup which then leaked through to my damn-life-is-beautiful plate. I felt loved, encouraged and supported. In the final moments of voting (and in the most what are the odds of that happening fashion), I tied with another chica. What happens now?! my pep squad all exclaimed. We wait and see, I suppose. I replied. And then about a week ago I received an email from the contest organizers that started with... Congratulations!... {Insert a millisecond's worth of heart palpatations} You've been selected as our runner up! {Insert mental scolding of said organizer's word choices} So I looked up from my email (I'm assuming with sad puppy dog eyes to rival Lucy when she knows she shouldn't have peed there) to face B (who immediately went into his do-you-kiss-your-mother-with-that-mouth dispute of my loss), sigh and reply to them with my requested address for a box of 2nd place "prizes". That's pretty cool, I thought. I know they work with some big fashion names, could be a nice little consolation gift... And then I got mailed a box full of logo'd tchotchkes (not one but two hot pink, plastic USB drive bracelets!) that promptly got dropped off at GoodWill because...well...no. Clutter is my latest personal nightmare and this was clutter at its finest. What a double bummer. Ah well, ya know? In all honesty, I had the extreme pleasure of retreat-ing in Costa Rica last May and I #whitegirlproblems just got back from the trip of a lifetime in Australia. Travel is my happy-place, if you will, but I am not lacking in that life department. I am extremely fortunate to have visited a number of awesome places over the years, so it's actually a-ok that I didn't snag a CR vacay, part 2. I will just have to figure out another way to hug monkeys with A :) Also, because I think it's worth saying, I really hope the little lady who won the contest has an amazing time. No bitterness to be had there. I found Costa Rica to be so soothing and healing, lovely and magic--I hope it is the same for her, as well. (But if she holds a monkey, I cannot guarantee the status of these good feelings...) To my friends and coworkers who genuinely surprised me (though I don't know why, considering how much mutual love flows between us) with the amount of skilled cheerleading in my honor (when did you perfect your pyramids?!) -- Thank you. You rock. I love you. And I am so, so lucky to know you. Entering this contest was worth every ounce of fleeting disappointment at the end simply because I was reminded of how many truly awesome folks I have in my life. You are not taken for granted. In Gratitude, Trish A few moments ago, my plane from Oakland, California to Maui, HI took off over the unusually clear skies of San Francisco. With sweeping cities views below us (I spotted my apartment building!) and a shining sun above, half of team Weebly and I began our adventure to paradise.
As the plane ascended higher above the clouds and Kui, our sweet Hawaiian flight attendant, shared my excitement for the beautiful view of the Golden Gate Bridge we spotted out the window, the only thing I could think was: I can’t believe this is my life. But it is. It’s very much my life; real and truly all happening. As I type this post my sweet and playful B is seated next to me, book in one hand (100 Things Phillies Fans Should Know Before They Die, naturally), the other placed gingerly on my thigh. My friends and coworkers, who have become a part of my west coast family, are settling into their respective seats; swapping smiles of excitement and anticipation. I am so thankful to be going on this trip. I am in absolute awe and wonder of the simple reality that this is an amazing, special and generous opportunity. And I get to share it with some of my favorite people, including a man who has brought love and light back into my heart; a man who has filled my days with belly aching laughter for almost the past year. Folks often ask me about how I ended up in such a unique life scenario, most specifically my current job as a Joyologist (which you can read about here) and I think if I had to break it down into a simple equation of “success” it would look something like this: One part dreaming + One part affirming + One part action = A whole lot of amazing. Take this company trip to Hawaii, for example. The dreaming started at a work happy hour—just a small group of start-up kids, asking their boss if he’d ever consider taking us on a trip as a reward for hitting certain goals. The affirming started when we continuously brought it up (bordering on annoying), affirmed that we could definitely make it happen and remained steadfast in the belief of deserving it. And the action part was centered around all of the hard work each Weebly puts in every day; their commitment to our team, our goals and our brand. A year later, and we are mid-flight. Destination: four days of fun in the sun. (It doesn’t hurt that we also have 3 Founders who genuinely believe in their team and treat them more like family than employees). When I first started this blog 2 years ago I went into the commitment of writing with the intention of being deeply focused on gratitude. At the time (if I may be blunt)—my life was kinda messy. Or perhaps not so much messy as not quite how I’d pictured it just a few years prior. There were so many questions and transitions, doubts and regrets swirling around me I sometimes didn’t know which end was up. But despite a lot of anxious moments, a piece of my soul always knew that in gratitude was a good place for me to start anew; that it was a good place for me to become rooted, so that eventually my spirit could grow and flourish in ways I could not have imagined. My friends: Keep dreaming. Keep affirming. Keep trying. And keep a sense of wonder, always. Allow yourself to be so present in a moment that you become one with it—a seamless connection and flow of life, light and love. Hold me accountable for the same, OK? In Gratitude, Trish |
Archives
November 2023
|