The people we let into our lives

Before I move on to this post, I want to share the beautiful moment that just happened to me. I was walking home from the train while listening to the podcast Invisibilia. In the episode “Thoughts” there is a story about a bright young man that falls ill and becomes essentially a vegetable. His organs keep going, but he is unresponsive in every other part of life. His family, for 12 painful years, takes care of his body thinking he is completely brain dead. But he is not. He is actually very much aware and through a miracle – and lots of hard work, determination and love – he begins to regain movement of his body. He gets a job. He fixes a computer. He communicates through a computer. And, eventually, he falls in love with a woman. Before I reach the part about his wife, I thought of something someone told me – someone people are not meant for relationships. I assumed that, given this man’s condition, he would likely never marry. What a shallow mind I have. As I listened to the man’s wife talk about how hard she fell for this man, I looked up at the sky, dropping large snow flakes, and felt a huge sigh come from the universe. Maybe some people do not want a life-long relationship, and that’s OK, but most of us want love. We tend to think we can’t have that big grand love because something is wrong with us or there is no one who will love us or most people want something we can’t give them. That’s bullshit. If you want love, it is there for you. Because we live in a vain and conditional world, you may have to search for it, but it exists. Do not let your limiting beliefs and fears stop you. You deserve it. OK, all done. Love to you.

I once went on a few dates with a man who I was unsure about it. He wasn’t a particularly warm individual and didn’t go out of his way to get to know me, but he was a someone. We talked through text message nearly every day and all day, but one day it just stopped. I didn’t see much of a future with this man, but I wanted a companion and became anxious in his lack of communication. I reached out to a friend about this who said, “If he likes you, he will show you. But you have to let him show you.” She knows me well.

Even after years of living on African time, I am still not a super patient person. I would rather poke and prod to discover something than wait for it to be shown to me. This idea works in some situations, but when it comes to people and their relationships with us, we have to trust what is given to us.

In my current project of self-love, I’ve become more aware about the people I chose to put into my life and the idea that a person has to earn his or her way into it. We should be vulnerable, as Brene Brown says, but only with people who have earned our trust. That may seem egotistical, but we do ourselves no good by keeping crappy company. To be good people, we have to be around good people.

What I have learned in the short amount of time on this journey is that people will show you what you mean to them. They will ask you about you and what matters to you. They will be willing to go through scenarios and calm your anxieties. They will be there to support and encourage you. And these are words or empty promises; they are actions. These connections aren’t always pretty but they are built to withstand the ugly.

There is also the other side. The people who say they want to be in your life but do not act that way. They talk about themselves and care little about your feelings or even who you are. We can’t beg or wish them to be more; they are what they are. We have to accept that and move on and believe in the notion that those that truly love us will make it known.

It’s not easy to examine each connection this way, because letting go is hard, but I understand it’s how I can show up for the people I love. We can be thankful for all the people in our lives, but let us move forward with only the ones that lift us up so we can lift them.



The gray winter light was streaming through my window, an invitation to embrace the day, but I pulled the covers over my head. I did not want morning to come. Morning meant a thrashing.

For several months I’ve been aggressively saving for a big trip in May. I shop at the cheap grocery store, I do not buy new clothes and I’ve reluctantly said no to concerts and shows that I’ve wanted to attend. It’s OK because I am good at skimping (Peace Corps skill for life) and this overseas trip with great friends will be worth it. Yet, it’s not easy.

Last night I spent a little excessively while with a friend. At the time I was angry with myself but I knew morning would come and I would be even harsher. How could I be so careless?

Under the covers, not ready for the guilt trip I would give myself, I looked at the time. 7 a.m. OK, an hour to wait this out and then call my mother. As much as I love my mother and as amazing and encouraging she is, and she very much is, she does not need to be awaken every Saturday with my made-up problems.

What if, I thought, I forgave myself? What if I said ‘Oh well, do better next time’ and then made a cup of tea? What if instead of seeking outside confirmation I gave it to myself and said ‘I am OK’?

I’ve been thinking a lot about forgiveness lately, whom I should forgive and who I want to forgive me. I suck at forgiveness. I want people to know that they hurt me and to be sorry, and like most people I have a hard to admitting when I have hurt someone. I’ve been going back through situations where I have felt slighted – situations where I was sure that I was the victim – with a new perspective and often seeing that I am not blameless. I was in the wrong, too, and I want to acknowledge that. In some cases, instead of waiting for an apology I offer one.

There is one particular relationship that has haunted me for quite some time and I could not figure out why it lingered. The person and I gave up hope for a real friendship long ago and if we saw each other today we would be amicable, even if slightly forced. It wasn’t one thing that drove us a part but a string of judgments, backstabbing and disrespect. I was definitely hurt, but I also know that I was not a good friend and I hurt this person. This person didn’t get the best of me and that makes me really sad.

I have forgiven this person. We are in different lives and have moved on. If I did see the person, and I do hope our paths cross again, I would not want to dive into the muck of the past but to start fresh, even if we could never get back to where we once were as friends.

So, why did this failed connection trouble me so? Because I had not forgiven myself. I was still beating myself up for being a terrible person and I hated that that is what the person knows of me. Only recently did I realize this and I have been able to scoop myself up like a loved one and remember that just because I was not a good person in this situation doesn’t mean I am not a good person. I am human. I make mistakes. It’s how we grow.

Only in forgiving myself have I’ve been able to move on. Forgiveness is powerful that way and I am using it in other relationships that gnaw at me.

Forgiveness of ones self doesn’t need to be saved for big things like the end of relationship but we should practice in all aspects of life. It’s OK to forgive ourselves when we forget the keys, ate that extra slice of cake or, even, spent a little too much at dinner.

As humans, we will never not make mistakes. That’s part of our beautiful design. Yet, we’ve been given this great gift of forgiveness so that we can see our mistakes as blessings. It’s remarkable when we forgive others but it is astonishing when we can forgive ourselves. It’s the glorious acceptance of who we are and that who we are is enough.

What is plaguing your heart this beautiful Saturday? It’s likely that some forgiveness could help. So, sweet one, go and forgive. Give yourself that deserved peace.


When I was in pre-service training for Peace Corps (the first time), I made specific personal development goals for my two years in Niger, an emotional checklist. I wanted to run more than I ever had, read all the books I didn’t have time to in the U.S. and rebuild my spiritual life. I also wanted a new outlook on failing.

Throughout PST, I really struggled with learning French and I felt so behind in exploring the culture and building relationships because of my poor language skills, all of this on top of being in a foreign place and having to relearn basic chores, such as bathing and washing clothes. I did not regret my decision to go to Niger, but I was ashamed that I was so bad at it.

One day, while discussing an upcoming language test with another volunteer, she mentioned that she strived to be better at failing. Before that moment, I had run from, haphazardly fixed and awkwardly avoided failure. In this role, though, I would have to embrace it.

And, as a foreigner living in an unknown place, one fails. A lot. I repeatedly failed in Niger and then in Lesotho.

Then I came back to the U.S., and I was fragile again. I refused to let myself believe that I could make mistakes and that I should. Every small decision came down to making the best one. Do I take the job in D.C. or Seattle? Should I live alone or with a roommate? Should I eat a salad or a burrito? Should I stay in or go out? Should I take the bus or the train? These questions, both big and small, tortured me because I needed to find my purpose again, my destined path. All those ideas of failing gracefully were gone, because this wasn’t two years in Africa. This was my forever life, and I didn’t trust my internal compass.

One morning this week, I woke up to a flipping stomach. I knew I would have to make a decision about something – and honestly, not a big or life-defining one – but I didn’t want to, and I didn’t want to admit the reason why this decision was torturing me. When it was time to say yes or no, I went with my gut, which was definitely based off of fear and that made me feel guilty. The ‘should’ haunted me and I agonized about it all evening.

When I called my mother about it, she was empathetic and gave me room to talk out all sides of the situation. She understood why I wanted to say yes and why I wanted to say no, but she also reminded me that this is just one little thing, that it doesn’t determine my life or who or what will come into it. I can see the feelings I have and use them to make a more informed decision next time, she told me.

Later in the day, someone posted this video:

And I remember this video that someone shared with me when I was deciding on what job in what city to take:

Failure and making mistakes are not our enemies. They are lessons. They are guideposts. They are exactly what we need.

When I was in the Peace Corps, I knew that I was going to fail and that allowed me to do so vulnerably and without shame and guilt. My life is not defined but what I do or where I live or whom I spend time with but by the grace that I chose to live my life each day. That includes making mistakes, which I do because I am human.

I am sometimes not a good friend. I make errors at work. I am sometimes a pill and not fun to be around. I date the wrong men and lived in the wrong places. But, I am never lost. All of those things are a part of my grand path, which is full of love and joy, and as long as I live fully and compassionately I will know when to make changes and move in different directions. There are no mistakes, just living.

So, let’s mistakes. Let’s celebrate them because they will always guide us to where we want to be, if we allow them.


Be still. Stillness reveals the secrets of eternity – Lao Tzu

There was a seat between all of us in the circle.

Her. Seat. Her. Seat. Him. Seat. Me.

The First Her was telling the Second Her that she should treat Chicago as if she was brand new and to rediscover it as if she had just moved here. Yes, the Second Her said, that’s a good idea.

Him them inquired about the situation and the Second Her explained that, while she was from Chicago, she recently returned to the U.S. after four years spent in South Korea. She’s been home, what seven months, she said, burring her head in her hands.

Seven months of pent up emotions started to spill. She had me at, “I am not sure who I am anymore. I am not the person I was before, but I am not the same person I was there. I don’t know who I am.”

Yes, I said. I know, I said. I’ve been there, I said. I told her that it feels like someone yanked the meaning and purpose out of you and all you’re left with is your nearly bearable loneliness.

I met the Second Her at the weekly meditation group I’ve been attending for a few months. We both came to the group to find something we just weren’t finding in our normal lives – companionship, inner peace, something we can’t describe but know we need. She told me how hard it’s been for her to re-transition back into life in the U.S. and I told her that I just came from a very brutal year where I was doing that very thing. I explained that while I still have hard times, which I do, hitting that year mark definitely made a difference. With time, normalcy comes.

This rejuvenated her. She hasn’t met anyone who experienced this before, so she was elated to find someone who could say, Oh, yes, I know those emotions well. She gave me a bit more credit than I deserve in my ability to bounce back, but I wanted her to know that it does get it better. And I shared something with her that a wonderful woman named Madeline told me: you will never stop processing what this means and your story will continue to have chapters throughout your life.

But, at some point you have to be still. I told her that I constantly want to run away, that I want to get on a plane and go somewhere for my next adventure. I don’t, though. First, I’ve already broken my mother’s heart enough. Second, I need to be still. I need to accept the things that come into my life, what’s here and what’s not. I want to be comfortable in just being because I know it’s what my soul needs. Joy doesn’t come from escaping; it’s in us and we must cultivate it.

It’s what Second Her needs, too.

Sometimes taking that great big leap into fear and uncertainty means staying right where you are, accepting the still and believing it has all that you need.

Let it go


There is a full moon this evening.

To honor such a blessing, I did this moon salutations yoga, allowing myself to end this cycle and welcome the new. A full moon is the time to let go of the things that no longer serve us, whether it takes just one cycle or many. Through these poses, the instructor encourages us to address what troubles our heart and then simply let it pass through us, leaving us.

Let it go.

Those are words I’ve heard a lot recently from friends and family. Let it go, they tell me warmly as I explain the situation. Move on. Their intentions are sweet and honest, but I feel as if they are asking me to do the impossible.

I do not let go. Instead, I fester and analyze. I take a troubling situation, both small and large, and look over the details. Replay every conversation. Wander and speculate where things unraveled. I tried to find answers when there are none to be found. In doing so, I cause myself so much heartache. I take small things and make them travesties.

Letting go means having courage to embrace the vulnerability of uncertainty.

Tonight, as I let my legs and arms fall into these poses, I thought about all the things I need to let go of – people, habits, worries, limiting beliefs – and I realized that to leave these things behind doesn’t have to be so hard but I can’t expect it to be easy either. All of these things have been put in front of me for one reason or another, but they weren’t meant to stay in my life. It’s time to let go.

And when I dig deep, when I really look at who I am, when I send gratitude to all of these things, I know that I do have that courage. I can be vulnerable. I can let go.

Whatever weighs on your heart tonight, my dear ones, know that you have the courage to let go. You have the strength to find be so much more.


The first one

Hello, friends.

I am back at the blog thing. You didn’t really think I would stay away, did you? You are cute. Truth is, I really enjoy this public journal and have found that I feel less me if I am not blogging.

Plus, I couldn’t not write a New Year’s post. Those are my jam. To mark the beginning of this blog, let’s talk about beginnings.

2014 was a weird and hard year for me and I really don’t care to discuss it anymore. I started writing a post about how I often feel like a victim in my own life and I refuse to live like that another year. While that’s true and I do have that intention, that’s not the message I want to put forth here, on this fresh canvas of a blog.

We have a new year. We have a new opportunity. We have the choice to take control of our lives and make them all that we want them to be. Yes, there will be sacrifices. Yes, there will be obstacles. But my goodness, we have a blank slate so why not make this our year?

So, my little readers, let’s make some pacts about these next 365 days to show that we are committed to really making this our year.

Let us not compare ourselves to others. We all are different with our own sets of challenges and successes. Let’s embrace that with love.

Let’s stay in the moment. The past will not change and our future is determined by what we do in the present. Be here now.

Allow the ones who walk out of our life to go and to hug each person that is still around. Reach out to old friends and find ways to make new ones. Our life is a constant flux of people and only a few will actually stay, so love them in the moment and graciously accept their departure.

Be thankful. All of us have so, so much in this world and we have exactly what we need when we need it. That’s a incredible gift, so say thank you.

Respect yourself. Eat the foods that make you feel human and move your body the way that it is meant to. Rest when you need it and honor your drive to create something. Grab your hand as if it was the hand of a lover’s and show yourself some compassion.

Find your fear and embrace it.

When life becomes too much, breathe.


Spend less time in front of a screen and more time with faces.

Screw up and be OK with it. Then do it again.

Whatever it is that makes you happy, hold on to it.

Be authentic. The world doesn’t want anyone but you.

To 2015.