In the process of switching rooms with my youngest brother six months ago, I found a whole host of old photographs of us growing up. Entering a new decade now I’m thinking about those again, as I found (terrible) photographs of us entering 2000. My middle brother had me in an armlock on the floor (not much has changed there).
I wonder how many of us feel like we’re in an armlock as we enter this decade? How many of us will find excuses to not pursue our dreams, to hold back, to simply ‘get by’ this decade?
I don’t really have any specific resolutions (though if I did they’d probably echo my buddy Chris) for this year, or decade, but I know I want it to be one where I continue to push myself out of my comfort zones. I want to be a part of something bigger than myself.
Seth Godin wrote a post a few years ago that is deeply resonating with me.
In hindsight, the 1990s were the good old days. Yet so many people missed out. Why? Because it’s always possible to find a reason to stay put, to skip an opportunity, or to decline an offer. And yet, in retrospect, it’s hard to remember why we said no and easy to wish that we had said yes.
The thing is, we still live in a world that’s filled with opportunity. In fact, we have more than an opportunity — we have an obligation. An obligation to spend our time doing great things. To find ideas that matter and to share them. To push ourselves and the people around us to demonstrate gratitude, insight, and inspiration. To take risks and to make the world better by being amazing.
Are these crazy times? You bet they are. But so were the days when we were doing duck-and-cover air-raid drills in school, or going through the scares of Three Mile Island and Love Canal. There will always be crazy times.
So stop thinking about how crazy the times are, and start thinking about what the crazy times demand.
So here’s to 2010: a crazy year. I’m going to be amazing this year. I’m also going to fail. But I’ll pick myself up, dust myself off, and go at it again. How about you?
I got the chance to meet & talk with a few of the TWLOHA UK crew at Greenbelt over the weekend. I’ve been following their story for a few years now, after a friend introduced me to it back in Chicago. I love it.
There have been so many points along my journey when their hope, and their words, have been the thing that has saved me. To read words that can bring you back to life… there’s something so precious in that.
“You were created to love and be loved. You were meant to live life in relationship with other people, to know and be known. You need to know that your story is important and that you’re part of a bigger story. You need to know that your life matters.”
To Write Love On Her Arms is a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for those struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide. Find out more on the TWLOHA website.
“Don’t be like some broken lawyer, always asking for answers, always reaching for rewind. Guilt and regret, those are awful places. You know that. So don’t live there. Do not despair. Do not be afraid. Grace is the interesting thing.
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And God must be a pretty big fan of “today”, because you keep waking up to it. You have made known your request for a hundred different yesterdays, but the sun keeps rising on this thing that has never been known. Yesterday is dead and over. Wrapped in grace. Those days are grace. You are still alive, and today is the most interesting day.”
We want someone to tell us our life matters. Myself included. I’ve been the girl on the floor in the middle of the night in tears. The silent sobs that feel like every breath is going to be the last.
There are these words that seem to define periods. Hope kept coming up in 2008. I think story is 2009’s word. Not that hopes gone anywhere, mind you.
Stephen wanted someone to tell him his life mattered, to know that someone cares.
Dish has been reflecting on how our dreams change over time, all the while shaping us into who we are becoming.
You might have noticed a theme in my Oxford trip, and in my trips generally: food.
I love food. Love the different textures and tastes, the sights and smells. Love how a simple smell can get me salivating.
Oxford was no different than my usual trips. A milkshake here. Some Moroccan tapas there. A fresh cookie here. The best ice cream I’ve ever tasted there.
We sat over a late night coffee ice cream & hot choc fudge sauce on Saturday night, talking about life. Chit chat. Deep chat. Everything in between.
And I got called out. Caroline asked me questions I wasn’t anticipating. I won’t go into the subject matter here, but she pulled me up on something I’ve continued having & doing; about whether it’s good for me, for my heart. She suggested giving my heart some space by stopping/ removing it.
I resented it. I glossed over it. I defended it.
But really, she’s right. It’s been months, and she’s been the first person to suggest it, to ask me about it. It was painful, and I wanted to move off it quickly. My words and my actions still don’t quite match up when it comes to honesty, to making myself vulnerable before people.
I am so grateful for friends who call me out on stuff, who are not afraid to tell it like it is.
So yea, there’ll be some changes in my life. Minor ones, that you’ll probably never see.
There’s been some chatter lately on a few blogs I read (Anne, Joshua) about how people are afraid to be amazing. For me, it’s a throw back to the first time I saw Coach Carter.
I know. You’re thinking, what?!
“Our deepest fear is not that we are in adequate.
It is that we are powerful beyond measure.”
I have some pretty huge dreams. The kind that terrify me, that I question if I will ever achieve. But they also keep me awake at night with excitement. Photographs that change the world? I’ve been told many things. That I’m idealistic (which, by the way, I want to reclaim as a good thing). That my head is in the clouds. That I’m not living in the real world.
Sound familiar?
Well guess what? So what. I’m not afraid anymore. I’m not afraid to say I’m good at this. That I believe in it’s purpose and it’s power. I love how I’ve seen my work improve over the last year especially. I think we’ve spent too long with such a weird, distorted sense of false humility. You’re awesome. Believe in yourself.
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