Showing posts with label advice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label advice. Show all posts

Thursday, January 2, 2014

My New Year's Resolution for You

If only I had a dollar for every weight loss commercial I have seen on TV since the new year started. Or perhaps, a cookie for every commercial. Wouldn’t that be ironic...
It amazes me that some associate a new year with weight loss or a “new you.” What if we lost a grudge, a friend that drains our energy, or the negativity in our life instead? The extra pound or two around your tummy doesn’t weigh nearly as heavily on you as the chip on your shoulder.
There’s no need for a new you. The old you is wise with experience, knowledge, and a past. The old you remembers the wild child that through heartbreak, disappointment, and beauty came out as a strong and stunning adult. Feel that soft thumping within your chest? That steady movement has felt your chest quake in laughter and jerk in sobs. That constant flutter has been gripped when you have been shocked, touched, and moved by life’s wonders. It has been spun by dance and lifted by reach.
 The old you is vintage—an original antique. Let your heart carry you through another year and your mind guide you to the love of yourself and others. Let your curiosity lift you to a new culture, experience, and person. And let the old you continue to find happiness and the constant fluttering of butterflies in your heart and a cautious gut-feeling in your just-the-right-sized tummy. This is my resolution for you.
 
it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose

Monday, November 4, 2013

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Twenty

20. My purpose.

 
 
It’s hard to fathom the idea that by simply being, we are serving a purpose. We may think we aimlessly go through the motions of our day with no bruises or surprises, highs or lows. But the fact you are you and no one else—existing, breathing, learning and living—you, love, are serving a purpose.
 
But we yearn for a bigger purpose in life. Rightfully, so, I might add. And some people search the entirety of their lives to fall short of finding the reason they were put on this earth.
 
However I know my purpose in life. And in the 20 amazing years I have been blessed to live—it is the most breathtaking, startling, profound lesson I have learned.
 
I, simply put, was placed here to reveal the love life brings us.
 
It sounds winding, overly simplistic, and who knows, maybe a bit arrogant.
 
But I know I am needed because of my heart, the courage I have to use it, and the talent I have to deliver it in words. Through my talent of writing, I am able to show others how much love life delivers to us every day, year, and lifetime. I am here to help others see love and find the importance in purpose.
 
So now it is time for me to reveal the love of others. I asked for family and friends to reveal the lessons they have learned in life. And this is what I learned:
 
"Never allow yourself to depend on another person." -Lauren
"The importance of family to get through the hard times. When something goes wrong they are just a phone call or hug away." -Megan
"There's no excuse for being a pessimist. This world is beautiful and the fact that we wake up every day should be enough to put a smile on your face.
The amount of stress you let in to your life is your decision. Deal with things the best you can then let them go. Think back to what you used to stress out about in high school and how insignificant those things seem now, that's how we'll view these situations when we're old and dying!
Whether it be work, school, or play keep a smile on your face and joy in your heart. That's how life was intended to be lived and any other emotion, although sometimes necessary, can take away from the potential of your day." -Micah
"Family is just that….family. Whether it is your natural born or extended. After marriage you should never learn to just “tolerate” your extended family. You need to open your heart and accept them as your own. You learn that they are there for you and support you just as much as your own. They become your own." -Craig
"I've learned, as cliche as it may sound, laughter is very often, if not always, the best medicine!" - Louis
Oh so many things...if you do or say something that makes another person smile, you have given them a gift." -Gail
“'You don’t like the person you’ve become? Then do something about it because no one’s going to do it or you.' This quote has taught me so much about my life." -Zach
"Quality over quantity in everything in life. Few friends who are true friends over tons of fake ones. Fewer possessions with meaning over many without need. I try to apply that rule anywhere I can and I think most of the time it makes people happier in life." -Bridget


We never know the minutes we have left on our time clock. The earlier we learn the reason we are here, the earlier we can discover the meaning of our lives and find comfort in the pits and peaks of our existence.

Lessons are permanent marks on our minds and hearts. They remind us of where we have been, where we are now, and where we will go in the future. They are a part of us- guiding, lighting, and calming.

It is and always will be...


it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose

Monday, October 28, 2013

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Seventeen

17.      Take pride in your hometown.



 

I was born in a town that is the epitome of the intersection between city folk and Old McDonald. I went to a small farm school for my elementary education where you could name everyone in your grade. The “Ag” program started at a young age and our history was as solid as the bricks that built the school. The name was Hopewell and it created within its students what the name suggests—hope for a future with endless education and the wellness of mind from knowing the people around you would form the friendships you cherish forever.
 
As we grew into awkward brace-faced preteens with curious minds and Lisa Frank folders, we graduated D.A.R.E and went to middle school. The other elementary school in the district combined with mine to double our class size and in turn doubling our pool of boyfriend prospects. It was intimidating having these “city kids” march into recess with their Aeropostale baby T’s. But we stuck with what we knew and held hands through the change. We let in new friends but held tight to the old. They were our comfort, our past, and our home.
 
Soon there were no lines between one person’s past and another’s. We were the big dogs of the school with our boy-girl parties and our first kisses. We were too cool for dances and hell, come at us, we even wore mascara. We went to movies and held hands and (kind of) fell in love. We had couple songs to Gavin Degraw’s Chariot and made friendship bracelets.
 
Then we went to high school. We went from head honchos to little punks and we held tight through it all. We went through our first heartbreaks and low-points and maybe even failed a test. But the one thing we never lost was our grip. We knew where each other came from and we made sure we never lost sight of it. We whined there was nothing to do when we got our first taste of freedom at the sweet age of sixteen. Yet our lack of events made us appreciate the simple company of each other. We didn’t have IMAX theaters or teen clubs. We had movie rentals and Adornetto’s. We had bonfires and toasted marshmallows and sleepovers galore. We had game nights and lazy nights and gift exchanges.
 
And when we once again became the big dogs of the school—only this time with true loves and sisterhoods facing the biggest change of our lives—we prepared to say “see you later” with our hands, still, held tight.
 
I will forever be grateful for the place that taught me most of these lessons. Be grateful for the town that taught you how to love, how to fight— and how to be.
 



it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose


Tuesday, October 22, 2013

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Fifteen

15. Don't make stress, make a plan

 
 
So if you never took my advice way back in the beginning of this journey, you may still have inspirational quotes as the background on your phone. Which, if that’s what gets your mind at ease or your motivation running, be my guest. But for today’s purposes, let’s focus on the stress we have created in our lives that encouraged us to seek inspirational quotes on Pinterest in the first place.
 
Some of you may have read over the “stress we have created in our lives” part above and turned red. Some of you may have forgotten how you stumbled upon this inspirational pile of randomness and were incoherent when you read it. But if I made you mad by stating it that way, let me explain.
 
See, life hands us some unfortunate circumstances sometimes. Whether it be short-term or long-term, navigating the rain puddles and detours in our journey can prove to be difficult. It is natural for us to worry about how we are going to handle the obstacle or stress over what the next challenge will be.
 
But if we took the time we spent worrying and stressing and used it to draft a plan, imagine how much happier we would be. I once said quite some time ago that every moment spent worrying can be spent living. I would like to take a step further and say sometimes those moments spent worrying need to be spent strategizing as to how you can live more happily. It sounds mathematical and therefore foreign to me, but it is true.
 
Stop stressing and start planning. As a wise little girl once told me, “when life hands you lemons, you just gotta add sugar.” Make a plan as to how you’re going to add your sugar, and work it out. Stress is toxic—sugar is delicious.
 
it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose

Friday, October 18, 2013

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Thirteen

13.      You can learn the deepest knowledge from the youngest brains.


I’ll never forget it.
 
I had just found out that my sister, brother-in-law and two little angels would be moving two states away.
 
It was as if I could feel my heart hesitate in rhythm and slow to a dull ache. Those little girls were my escape and their parents my backrest. They took the dreariness and pressure away from my life. And here they were being taken away from me.
 
Then a few weeks later I was lying in bed next to my little niece and mini-me. Her name is Faith and she gives me what her name suggests. There I was, lying next to her, tears streaming down my face and disappearing into my pillow. I thought she was asleep until she opened her big hazel eyes and stared right through my teary ones. I’ll never forget this three-year-old little girl holding me as she wiped my tears and told me we would always be together.
 
I probably only slept a few hours that night. Half because she is quite violent in her sleep and half because my heart and head couldn’t fathom a world without them close.
 
But that little girl taught me a huge lesson. Sometimes we let the lemons life hands us spoil instead of strategizing ways to make them sweeter. I think it is a result of letting life taint us bit-by-bit. Because our youth haven’t experienced let downs in any form more intense than the refusal to eat ice cream for dinner, they don’t let setbacks slam the brakes on their lives.
 
Ask the little ones in your life some deep questions. I guarantee you’ll find every answer you’ve never searched for and some comfort, too. They read through your tough exterior walls you have built to “protect them.” See, they haven’t had a reason to build them unless they’re made of Legos and chicken nuggets.
 
it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Twelve

12.      Believe in that four letter word.

 

 
As a child, I was fortunate enough to see my parents happily married. Of course, as a child, I didn’t see myself as fortunate. I saw it as gross and repulsive that the two people that diapered me at one time, actually, like, ya know, kissed and stuff. The thought makes you shudder when you’re young. I mean, hello! Cooties!
 
But then I got older, and learned that I was actually quite blessed to have two parents that loved each other. Granted, I skipped a large chunk of time in this story. There was the stage I thought my parents were as smart as that Miss South Carolina Teen contestant and the stage that I thought I was smarter than them. But now that I’ve lived two decades, I can say that all I hope and pray for is to find a love that withstands the test of time that they have.
Sometimes I feel the judgment when I still cry at the end of every predictable romance movie. Not because it’s another Jennifer Aniston rom-com and everyone including the husband half asleep in the theater knows the ending. But mainly because my friends and family know I have been on some of the most painstaking dates and have survived incredibly numbing heartbreaks. I have heard the corny pick-up lines and the witnessed the emotional roller coasters. Yet I still have every bit of faith in love.
A couple of years ago I wrote a letter to the future me to open on my wedding day. I wrote one for the lucky groom, too. I don’t know who I will be or who he will be. But I do know that on that day every tear shed during those movies will be worth it. I will no longer cry because that love is what I’m searching for—I’ll cry because it’s everything I’ve found. I will know that the way my parents still look at each other will be my future. And you better believe that the groom will have one heck of a tolerance for quirkiness and sassy oddballs.
 
it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Eleven

11.     Laugh at yourself.

 

Most of my lessons have been years in the making. I have lived through multiple episodes of the same plot resulting in the same lesson. (I’m hard headed). But this lesson came as an epiphany. Let me set the scene for you.
 
I have been planning the largest canned food drive at my beloved Ohio University. The logistics of this event are similar to fixing the haircut we all tried to give ourselves when we were three. You can keep trimming away the details, but there will always be those inevitable loose ends. I won’t bore you with more, but let’s just say on this particular day, I had lifted well over 1,300 canned foods, spilled horrid mushroom soup down my front, and accidentally punched a cabinet. I felt like the bird in that Windex commercial that is tricked into thinking the glass door is actually an open window.
 
So after slamming into my day and sliding down the window in slow motion, I hit the ground. I walked into my apartment, took my pants off, and made hot dogs. I turned on Law & Order SVU and dug into my mustard covered feast. It was two hot dogs in that I put down my fork and just started giggling at myself. My giggles turned to belly laughs and my belly laughs turned into full-on, teary-eyed cackling. At this point, the tears were rolling down my cheeks and it was literally becoming difficult to take a deep breath…
 
I mean, come on! Here I am sitting in my living room with no pants on eating bun-less hot dogs watching Detective Benson do her thing. I had a hundred things I should have been doing. But I wasn’t worried about them. My biggest concern was my roommate walking in and checking me into a mental institution.
 
We’ve all had these moments. You may have had pants on in yours. You may have been 20 feet below sea level. Or have just realized your fly was unzipped for the entirety of your day. But either way, enjoy that moment of just doing as you feel and having the ability to realize sometimes you’re an absolute oddball. After all, if all of us are oddballs, then really none of us are odd at all...  
 

 
it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Seven

7.   Never stop doing what removes you from the chaos


I’ll never forget that minty blue-green leotard and the magic it encapsulated. It was about the same size as would fit a Chihuahua. I visited my grandmother who now dances from above, and the day was what every three-year-old little girl has ever dreamed of. (Minus Cinderella making me the long lost Disney princess and living in a castle with my invisible friend Amy.)

I began dancing that day back 17 years ago, and it began my love of movement and the power it gave me to express myself. I truly believe this passion of mine paved the way to a creative talent I share with you today—writing.
The way a poetic melody paired with a compelling lyric made my toes flutter and my heart pound was intoxicating. It was as if the music moved through me. My brain didn’t need to equate or calculate. It was a beautiful escape.


After 15 years of some interesting dance concepts on my part—I recreated the infamous Tom Cruise in Risky Business scene as a solo performance and wore a costume that made me look like a glittery pickle—I packed up everything I had ever known and moved to college. And with my reliance on my parents, my dancing fell to homework and college boys.
I have learned to incorporate dance and creativity into my schedule. And when I fail to do just this, my mood tends to show it. Because as time will tell you, the movement that removes you from the chaos is sometimes difficult to keep up with. But remember that little leotard and the look on your loved ones face when they saw a future for you before you created your own. There’s a reason you were given that talent. It is your ticket to sanity and a world your three-year-old self could have only dreamed of…


it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose