Egg Nog is Gross. And It’s Time for Another Workshop.

A few years ago I was setting up the Christmas tree. I pulled out the same box I’d been pulling out since college. The same ornaments. The same cords of little white lights. Normally that was a happy activity for me, full of anticipation and magic and fun and music and egg nog. (Just kidding — egg nog is gross.) But that year, I just wasn’t feeling it. That year, I sighed a bit as I had the thought, “Here we go again…” 

And that thought didn’t have anything to do with the craziness of the holiday season. It didn’t have anything to do with the giant fucking KNOT the lights had tied themselves in. It didn’t have anything to do with Silver Bells playing for the 953rd time on the radio. (Ok, it had a little to do with that.)

Mostly though, it had to do with the fact that I was facing yet another year of my life. It wasn’t a bad life. It just hadn’t changed in five years. Frequently, I would question softly in my mind, “Is this it? Is this everything I hustled for in high school and college? Where is the joy?”

I was stagnant. I hadn’t leveled up in a long time and I was feeling it…

The depression slowly creeping in whenever I sat with myself for more than a few moments.

The crushing anxiety over little things that were unimportant in the grand scheme.

The feeling that I could/should be doing something more or better or different.

I decided not to do anything about it right then. I continued decorating the tree, pasted a smile on my face, and sang ALL THE CHRISTMAS CAROLS.

But life is a bitch kind. It doesn’t let us get away with being stagnant for too long. And the following Christmas, I was on the verge of a divorce and a career change (both rather unpredicted by me).

In the years that followed, I had no choice but to level up and expand. My life had changed so drastically that I had to learn how to live with this new me. I wondered often what life would have looked like had I chosen to take a look at myself just a little sooner. Would I have needed the giant wake up calls that came my way? I can’t know.

What I do know is that we humans are meant to level up. Forever.

Growing doesn’t stop after graduation. We are destined to continue expanding for the rest of our lives. In fact, it is downright painful not to. We were not meant to live  stagnant, drama-filled, anxious, numbed-out, lame lives. We were meant to love, feel, teach, and grow.

And growing must start with digging. Digging through the muck. What’s the muck? Old habits, thought patterns, relationships, and beliefs that are holding us back. It’s not pretty or pleasant. But it’s oh, so freeing.

Ready to level up and don’t know where to start? I got you. I’ve got another workshop on the calendar for January 20th and 21st, 2018. It’s called The Muck Workshop. You can read more about it here. You can register here. If you are interested, but not ready to commit yet, put yourself on this email list to get more updates.

Lots more about this coming up in the following weeks. For now, I want to know what you think: What is the #1 reason we find it difficult to start digging? E-mail me at kristen@imperfectedges.com and let me know.

Related:

Magnificent Edges

Personal Development: If You Take This On, You’re A Freaking Hero

Drums, Drinks, and Time to Deal

 

Babe, Your Eyelashes Look Fabulous. But How is Your Heart?

Your vehicle is beautiful. You’ve got those leather, heated seats and the fancy touchscreen and awesome speakers. And it’s the shiniest. It’s so shiny it helps you forget that you and your spouse haven’t had a meaningful conversation in years.

Your eyelashes are gorgeous. They’re the longest and fullest they’ve ever been. And your freckles hyper-pigmentation are almost not even visible anymore! In fact, you are so “flaw”less, you hardly even think about that time you were sexually assaulted years ago, and it’s easy to push it aside, once again, and not process it.

Your bag and your shoes are stunning. The envy of all your friends. Their compliments are enough to mostly drown out the voice in your head that’s been there since you were a child. The one that says, “You’re not good enough. You’re not smart enough. You’re not pretty enough. You’re just not enough.

Your vacation photos look amazing. Some beach somewhere. (They all start to look the same after a while, don’t they?) The sunny smiles in the pictures are enough to make everyone on Facebook assume your life is fantastic. And if they all think your life is fantastic, then it doesn’t matter if it’s really not… right?

Honey. Having stuff isn’t wrong. Spending money on things that make you happy isn’t wrong. I love a good vacation just as much as the next gal. I spend lots of money on quality makeup because I love it. And I have more expensive workout clothes than I feel comfortable writing about here.

But when was the last time you spent money on your heart? When did you last invest in something that people can’t see?

Investing in Personal Development is tough to wrap our minds around because the effects can take months and years before they are noticeable. It’s no 21-day fix. (If it is, you did it wrong.) It can feel like a waste to pay for something and not see results immediately. To not have specific, tangible deliverables.

And can we talk for a second about the stigma attached to it? Like, if you’re buying self-help books, there must be *gasp* something wrong with you, right? If you are going to workshops and seminars, you must be *double gasp* seriously selfish (or seriously fucked up), right???

Well, fuck that noise. It is wrong.

Your heart, your spirit, and your soul are more beautiful than all your stuff. They are more worthy of attention than society would have you think. And they need some serious TLC because in this day and age, it is ridiculously easy to neglect them. 

You need to feel. To experience highs and lows. To get excited . To learn what lights you up and what pisses you off.

You need to process. To understand the things that have happened to you. To feel hurt and let go of grudges.

You need to love. To be joyful, right down to your core. To appreciate Life exactly as it shows up for you, with no expectations.

And to do those things, you need to choose your heart. “Heart before eyelashes” – That’s a good motto to remember when you are inundated with advertisements saying the opposite. It takes strength to dig deep. To look at the inside rather than the outside. But I haven’t yet met a person that is sorry they did.

So much love to you all. Your hearts are beautiful. Time to start honoring them.

 

Related Posts:

Drums, Drinks, and Time to Deal (Retreat Rundown)

Personal Development: If You Take This On, You’re A Freaking Hero

Dude. Breathe.

 

Divorce and Feeling Things. Also, I Cried During Wall Balls Once.

 

Me: “So we’re doing this.”

Him: “Yeah. It’s time.”

Me: “Ok. It sucks.”

Him: “I know. A lot.”

Me: “I love you.”

Him: “I love you too.”

When my former husband and I realized our marriage was over, we tried to go through the process as quickly as possible. Before our friends and family could blink, we filed the papers, divided up our stuff, and headed our separate ways. We ripped it off like a Band-Aid. And it stung so bad. But I clenched my jaw and stubbornly pretended it didn’t.

“Pssssssh, I’m great!!!!” I replied a little too cheerily to all the inquiries about how I was doing.

“Life is WONDERFUL!!!!” I responded with big, blank eyes and a pasted-on smile to concerned friends.

I was numb. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to have fun. I didn’t want to feel. I proceeded to punish myself by working long hours and working out too hard. I didn’t let myself confide in anyone. I didn’t let myself cry.

Because if I cried, that would be admitting that it hurt… And if it hurt, that meant I had made the wrong choice…

Right?

A year after the divorce was final, I mentally said goodbye to my ex-husband for good when he moved to a different city. As I sat on my couch in dazed silence that day, my wise-beyond-his-years younger brother came over.

“How’re you doing?” he asked.

“Fine! Thanks for asking!!!” I chirped.

“Alright.” He sat in silence with me. He’s good at that.

Finally, I burst out, “This is fucking weird.”

“What is?” he asked.

“I think I’m sad but I don’t even know why. We split up a year ago. He’s gone. I’m happy for him. I’m happy for me. It’s fine. I shouldn’t be sad. This is stupid.”

“Just because you’re both better off now doesn’t mean something wasn’t lost,” he said. “It’s ok to grieve. In fact, you probably need to.”

Oh.

Yes, we were both better off. His life and my life were finally free to go the separate directions they needed to. But something had been lost. And it needed to be acknowledged. I missed my husband – my best friend for seven years. The person who had survived my twenties with me and at the time knew me better than anyone else. I missed the time we used to spend together and the silly things we laughed about. I missed our circle of friends and the life we had built together. There was so much to miss. And, an entire year later, I had only just realized that it was ok to miss it.

So I began the grieving process. Better late than never. I wrote. I cried. I laughed. I talked. I admitted. I ran. I yoga-ed. I thought. I meditated. I played the hell out of my piano.

And it didn’t all feel good. Cleaning a wound HURTS, you see. Going into our hearts with tweezers to remove emotional shrapnel is really freaking unpleasant at times. But a wound that isn’t cleaned out properly can’t heal properly.

Denying the pain doesn’t make it leave. It just cleverly disguises itself as other things: insecurity, shallowness, impatience, anger, and anxiety. It also robs us of all the good emotions: joy, excitement, hope, freedom.

I’ve been divorced for four years already. Being this far removed, it’s easy to see how right we were to go through with it. I don’t see the marriage as a failure. It was a wonderful experience that had an expiration date. And, for goodness’ sake, I’m glad I finally decided to face and embrace the dark times that followed.

Some of us would rather stay in a stagnant purgatory of not-feeling-our-feelings. I can’t do that anymore, and I don’t recommend it to anyone else. Allow the tears. Allow the fear. Allow the embarrassment. Allow the OhshitwhathaveIdone? moments.

Because, isn’t it better when your smile is genuine?

FYI, the crying comes easier these days. Sometimes I cry when I hear a good song. Sometimes I cry because I love my dog so much I can’t stand it. Pretty sure I cried once doing a bunch of wall balls. But I no longer associate tears with weakness or regret. They are cleansing, healing, liquefied emotions. And they need to get out. So let ’em.

 

Related Posts:

The Truest Sentence That You Know

A Lot Can Change In A Year. Or Not. (Thoughts for When You Feel Misunderstood)

Seriously, Tell Me to “Be Grateful” One More Time…