Meaning-Making

I’m almost 38 years old. Here’s what I’ve learned and experienced about life as I age.

The older I get, the more intensely I feel things. Sometimes I feel like my feelings are on steroids because of how deeply they are embedded into my very being. The happy moments- they are full of blistering joy. Thrilled that I am able to experience such goodness and novelty in the moment, and I know not to take it for granted. I hold the preciousness of the moment and the feeling it engenders in my hands. The sad moments? They bring me to my knees. They are portentous and weighty, and I feel every sharp edge of their tragic existence and how each cut intimately wounds me.

The only way I know how to live life in light of this intensity is through meaning-making. This isn’t a novel concept- most people who work in any type of social services field are familiar with this concept. Meaning-making is well-known; however, it has not risen to cliché heights because it’s one of the only mechanisms that can carry us through life’s darkest hours. For those of you who don’t know what meaning-making is, I want to start with a story to illustrate the concept, and then I’ll use more precise language to define it.

A couple of years ago, my heart was broken for the millionth time. I had been dating someone with whom I saw a future with at the time, and out of nowhere, he broke up with me. I was devastated, to say the least. Not only was this a loss in and of itself, but the fact that things seemed to be going well-only to have the rug pulled out from under me- completely shattered my world and myself.

I grieved, cried, and screamed, and eventually, I picked myself up again. We don’t really have a choice in these matters. I mean, we do- we could just lie down in our beds and die- but if we don’t want to do that, we somehow have to just put one foot in front of the other. I remember making a progress list those first couple of days. It was a big deal when I could make myself a meal again. It was a big deal when I had the energy to care if my house was clean. Those items are tasks that I customarily perform on a daily basis without any thought, but when you are in the throes of grief, it takes Herculean levels of energy to accomplish them. It almost makes me laugh. I’m one of the most energetic people I know- I work 5 jobs and have a ton of hobbies and friend groups and I’m hardly ever home- and yet when I’m grieving, the most basic tasks escape me.

I slowly put myself together again, step by step. When I was finally in a place where I could take care of basic life responsibilities, I knew I needed to do more. I had been seeing this man once a week, and without him, it left a huge hole in my social calendar, even with all my other friends and hobbies. I was at the gym one afternoon, and out of desperation, I asked a woman in one of my classes if she wanted to go kayaking that weekend. She happened to be free, and she said she knew another woman from the gym would probably want to go as well. So, we talked to her, and the three of us went to the lake together. These two women were named April and Rebecca.

We had so much fun that afternoon- Rebecca brought her own kayak, and April and I rented stand up paddle boards. We practiced handstands, tried to do a pyramid, and just had fun playing and dicking around in the water.

That trip- my courage to simply ask these two women that I sort of knew if they wanted to hang out- changed my life. April and I ended up buying our own watercrafts, and the three of us started slowly hanging out more together. We would eventually paddle down rivers…go to pumpkin patches…mushroom hunt…etc.  These two women have become two of my best friends, and we often hang out with some of our other mutual friends together (who I also love and find significant meaning from having in my life! Hugs to all of you!) We are actually planning on taking a couple of trips together in 2024, which is a big deal for me because my natural introvert self is pretty selective about who she shares her space with. We also have slowly started sharing more vulnerable things with each other; it’s not a relationship simply built on having adventures with one another.

If I had kept dating that man, I don’t know that I would have become such good friends with April and Rebecca. He had been a big part of my life, and I don’t know if I would have had the energy or time to invest in new friendships. And it’s really quite funny- I had actually known April and Rebecca for years at that point as nice acquaintances at our gym, but my life had always been “full” enough before this breakup that I hadn’t really asked them to hang out outside of our gym because I always had plenty of other engagements on my calendar. But that breakup- it left a hole that I knew I needed to fill.

This is what meaning-making is. It’s NOT saying “everything happens for a reason.” Rather, meaning-making occurs when you find some beauty in the midst of pain. You find a silver lining that exists in spite of the hardship you endured. I took something heartbreaking (the loss of someone), and I used my time to create new friendships. And I am so glad for this silver lining; I cannot imagine living without the joy of having these two women in my life now.

Do I wish things had been different? Yes, I do. I mean, let me be clear- I don’t wish that this man and I had ended up together (to be honest, I realize now that I dodged a damn bullet), but I DO wish that I would have already found a life partner by that point in time. I WISH I had already found a life partner by that life phase, I WISH that I could also be great friends with April and Rebecca, I WISH that I didn’t have to experience hurt and pain, I WISH…I wish I could have and do all that I have ever wanted.

I wish all that, but of course, that’s not how life works. We don’t get it all, and certainly, not all at once. But we do receive different gifts at various points in our lives. And for me, the summer of 2021, it was Rebecca and April.

I work as a full-time grief counselor. Sometimes, people ask me how I can do it. I’ve been in this position almost 10 years, and yet, I still have the ability to continue to hear people’s heartache and tragedy. I can do it because of meaning-making. I have heard the absolute most BEAUTIFUL stories over the years. A woman who became a published author after her spouse died. An elderly farmer who had the courage to travel abroad on a group trip without knowing anyone prior. Two sisters who reunited after the death of a parent. A man who started his own non-profit to help those who experienced a loss like his. The list goes on and on…and I almost think the list needs to be endless. Because if we don’t experience meaning-making on at least a subconscious level, I’m not sure any of us would have the strength or hope to continue on after experiencing devastating levels of loss.

However, one point I want to make clear is that meaning-making DOES not erase the original tragedy or trauma. Sometimes you can be glad it didn’t turn out the way you originally wanted (such as in my story with the man bullet I inadvertently dodged), but there are other times that it doesn’t replace or eliminate the initial hurt. All of the people that I talk to for a living would likely trade any of their silver linings for their loved one to be back on earth and healthy with them. We need to be careful that we aren’t indulging in toxic positivity and saying that meaning-making explains why certain events happen. Meaning-making does not justify trauma or tragedy; rather, meaning-making gives us hope because it reminds us there is always the possibility for new connections, love, stories, gifts, and adventure. There is hope in the fact that somehow, some way- the universe reminds us that there is goodness ALONGSIDE the heartache, and it is what helps carry us through.

30, Flirty, and __________ (Insert whatever the hell adjective makes sense for YOU)

 “My 30 goal is to be able to run 3 miles.”- Shanice Blair

 “My goal is to be the best mom I can be and help provide for my family. Pay off more debt. Set new fitness goals after baby. And start a new level at work when I return.”- Lesley Bielenberg

 

“In year 30 I’m working to improve my financial literacy and money habits. I hope to continue having a great first year of marriage and being able to celebrate milestones with friends and family.”- Crystal Olalde Graef

 

“Running a 3:45 marathon at Twin Cities.”- Skylar Young

 

“My goal at 30 is to get a policy job after my fellowship making 6 figures, and to set the financial foundation to buy a house.”- Kristen Alesch

 

“Get pregnant (& hopefully birth baby before I’m 31), pay off student loans (if the freeze is actually ended) and 3) buy 1^st investment property.”- Laura Major

 

All the individuals above, except for myself, are individuals I have had the privilege to meet and know along my own life journey <3.

 

J. Krishnamurti said, “The ability to observe without evaluating is the highest form of intelligence.” In this life, we are expected to achieve certain spoken and unspoken “milestones.” By age 22 you should have your bachelor’s degree, by age 30 you should have a prospective life partner, by age 35 you better be expecting your first child at the least, etc. For some, they might fall into this timeline because life aligned this way for them, or they might have felt the pressure we all feel at times by the invisible expectations of society. For others, their lives might align differently because of their own individual desires, life experiences and choices.

 

I want to name, first and foremost, that there is not a “right” way to live life. Whatever your individual life looks like is unique to you and is exactly where you’re supposed to be in this present moment. What I do want to mention is that because everyone’s individual life journey is unique to them, we are not all going to be in the same place of our life journeys, regardless of our numerical age. As demonstrated above, 6 different 30-year-olds stated their goals for the year. Some desire to increase their levels of physical fitness while others focus on financial prosperity and strengthening their families. Although these individuals are the same age, they are at different phases in their life courses aiming to accomplish different things.

 

Again, I emphasize that there is no “correct” path in life. Each and every day, we make choices with the information we know at the time, the feelings within our minds and bodies, and the desires we hold in our hearts. One person’s path at age 30, 45, 62, etc. can look completely different from another person’s at that same age.

 

The differences outlined in each of our life journeys are so beautiful and are a compilation of the experiences which led us to get there. Although there are commonalities within the human experience (love, life, and loss), the age and rate at which we experience these commonalities vary. I recently watched a Netflix show called “Firefly Lane” which perfectly captures the human experience, and the uniqueness of our life paths. One quote that stood out to me in particular was the following, “But that’s the thing about big life changes. You don’t get to choose when they happen.” I appreciated this quote because in truth, we have control over so little in this lifetime. You attain your bachelor’s and master’s degree to find out the economy hit a recession and the job market is scarce. You move to a new city to focus on your career, and you fall in love. You have plans to take a family vacation in Florida and a family member gets sick. The uncontrollable life events all influence where we are at and where we are headed, and ultimately make our lives unique.

 

Now, I’m not saying to live life aimlessly because we cannot always control our circumstances. What I am saying is that every single person experiences life, and the commonalties of the human experience, at different ages and stages. With this in mind, when you feel inclined to judge someone else’s journey, or even your own, I encourage you to remind yourself that you are not the gate holder of all the knowledge and insight that it took for someone to get to where they are today. Be grateful for what you have, all you have become, and make choices that further your individual development. Then, let the rest go.

Don’t Let the Bastards Get Ya Down

Hey all!  I know it has been red hot minute since we posted on the blog.  I thought I would kick things off again by talking about my recent trip to Costa Rica with my leadership life coaching group.  To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure I was going to go on this trip.  My ex-husband conveniently forgot to tell me that he was going to be gone for military training on the same dates as I was supposed to be in Costa Rica.  That meant two things – first, that my ex-husband would predictably take a shot at me by implying I should not be taking “another” trip, and second, that I would need to try to cobble together childcare for my 15-year-old son and 9-year-old daughter.  The trip was also scheduled over my son’s 15th birthday, which I had not realized at the time I signed up for the trip.  This meant another jab from my ex-husband, a discussion with my son, and trying to find a way to make his birthday special despite both of his parents being gone.  In addition, someone close to me did not support the leadership life coaching group or the trip to Costa Rica which had resulted in numerous significant and unpleasant discussions leading up to the trip.  Finally, I just wasn’t feeling well – in fact, I had been feeling lost and uncertain.  The end result of all this judgment and guilt and emotion I was experiencing was that all the joy was sucked out of the prospect of traveling to Costa Rica.  If the trip hadn’t been paid for, I can assure you that I would not have gone.  As it was, however, the trip was paid for and so I found my unexcited, unenthused ass sitting on a plane heading to Costa Fucking Rica.  It didn’t feel good, I was uncomfortable and I wondered if I was doing the best thing but I am so glad I did.  

Although I was still feeling a bit of animosity and anxiousness toward going on the trip, the reality is that Costa Rica is an amazing place.  Full of wild and wonder, the jungle leads to volcanoes, rainforests and sandy beaches depending on which direction you go.  Cacao and coffee flourish amidst a culture of ceremony and natural healing.  Just being in the presence of unadulteratedforests and undeveloped beaches was enough to lighten my emotional burden significantly.  In addition, for the first five days of the trip, I stayed at Imiloa Institute – an all plant-based, alcohol/substance free retreat campus set in the heart of the jungle. You can check it out here if you would like: https://imiloainstitute.com/. Tarantulas and other multi-legged creatures greeted me each evening as I walked back to my room nestled in the deepest part of the jungle (pictured below).  I asked for this room because I wanted to be as deep into the natural environment as possible.  Luckily, an old Army trick kept most of the critters away from my room (if ya know, ya know).  I experienced sound healing, a cacao ceremony, breath work, meditation, a blue clay ceremony and swimming in two waterfalls.  People laughed and people cried, myself included.  I danced more in five days than I did in four years of college.  Friendships were strengthened and new bonds were formed.  We all claimed something there.  Confidence, wild woman, roar, sexy, balance and joy to name a few.  Most importantly for me, however, is that I reclaimed my trust in myself.    

After the first five days, the retreat portion of the trip was over and most of the women in attendance left.  I had decided to stay a few extra days to experience more of Costa Rica.  I rented a car and drove to Arenal Volcano, Rio Celeste, and La Fortuna.  I went solo hiking in two national parks, experienced the hanging bridges, swam in La Fortuna Waterfall and the Blue River, and soaked in the hot springs all by myself.  I had the best couple of days just doing whatever it was I wanted to do at the pace I wanted to do it (aka balls to the wall).  I find it somewhat entertaining, but also a little disheartening about the number of people who are surprised to find a woman traveling alone.  Most are just curious but some want to know why I am not with a man.  I used to say I could shoot a gun just as well as a man could but I think it was scaring people so now I just tell people I can’t wait for a man to live my life or I will joke that men and I don’t seem to get along so well.  I suppose it is a rarity to see a solo traveler in general, but in particular a woman, but I wish more people had the experience.  It is truly liberating, inspiring and a good way to get to know yourself better.  Not only that, but I have noticed people are friendlier to me when I solo travel – perhaps out of pity for the lonely single girl – but I don’t really think that.  I think most of the time they are curious about what kind of person I am.  But I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I do experience a little bit of shame when I have to ask for a table for one,  But, guess what? Even though it doesn’t feel good and I’m uncomfortable, I do it anyway, and I am glad I do.  

And so I have finally gotten around to the point of this blog.  Nothing about this trip felt right or good.  Nothing about it was easy and it was uncomfortable in many ways.  It was implied I was being selfish.  It was implied I was not being a good mother.  I felt guilty and judged.  I was sad about leaving my children, and distraught about being gone over my son’s birthday.  But by God, even though nothing felt comfortable, I did it anyway,and I am glad I did.  Sometimes in life, we think discomfort means we should stop or not continue, and in some contexts that might be true, indeed.  But in other contexts, I assure you that discomfort is the currency of dreams.  No matter what kind of life you lead, there will be critics who may make you feel discomfort with your chosen path.  If you stay at home all the time, there will be those who find fault with it.  If you take a trip for yourself, I can assure you that there will definitely be critics.  The question is what type of credence do we choose to give these critics?  Do we want to give critics any power over the trajectory our lives?  That is a choice we must all make for ourselves.  I am reminded of one of my favorite quotes by Theodore Roosevelt: 

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.  The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly, who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”  

I’m not as eloquent as Teddy Roosevelt, but as part of the retreat at Imiloa, every person had to give an offering of some kind to the rest of group.  I am not going to go into the details of my offering because I think it was a “you had to be there” sort of thing to understand it.  But at the end of my offering, we all shouted “Illegitimi non carborundum,” which means “Don’t let the bastards get ya down.”  That’s how I want to end this blog.  With a call to be who you are, even when its uncomfortable or doesn’t feel good.  To show up in this world authentically big, loud, weird and bold even in the face of judgment and criticism from others.  And if or when you feel the judgment of others creeping in and robbing you of your joy, push through that discomfort and either remind yourself of the Teddy Roosevelt quote if you want eloquence or simply say to yourself like I do, “Don’t let the bastards get ya down.”  Big Love to all from Iowa!

 

Easy - Definitely Not. But, preferred, indeed.

“Your family takes the best vacations.”  This was a statement recently made to me by a coworker following my family’s latest excursion to the Outer Banks in North Carolina.  Short story is that thirteen people – Amy and her husband, Craig; myself and my two kids, Trevor and Brooklyn, Molly and her husband, Larry and their two kids, LJ and Adeline; Anne, Kristen, Grandma and Pops all managed to get to the Outer Banks for an extended week of vacation in celebration of my mom’s 70th birthday.  If you haven’t been to the Outer Banks, I highly recommend it.  Although it could be, the Outer Banks area is not just another beach getaway.  The area contains a unique blend of history and mystery, set in the midst of an oceanic landscape that gives way to large sand dunes and spaciousness.  Lighthouses dot the coast, wild horses roam free and lore and fact intersect seamlessly to create legend.  Take for example, the legend of how Kill Devil Hills got its name.  One theory has it that the name was derived from rum that was strong enough to “kill the devil.”  Nag’s Head has a similar myth that suggest it was so named because scoundrels would tie lanterns to necks of ponies (“nags”) and walk them along the high dunes.  From the ocean, it would look like the lights of other ships, a ruse which would cause captains to become disoriented and eventually end up shipwrecked on shore whereby their goods could be pillaged. As you might have gathered, the Outer Banks is eclectic with something for all ages. In fact, I could regale you with the tales of our varied adventures – climbing the lighthouses, searching for wild horses, exploring the history of the Wright Brothers’ famous flights in Kitty Hawk, experiencing the mysteries of Roanoke Island, searching for seashells at sunset, watching the sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean, and so much more but I don’t really feel like telling those stories.  You can look on any of our Facebook or Insta pages to get a feel for what we did while we were there.  No, what I want to write about is what people don’t see in the pictures – the amount of work and sacrifice it takes to pull off a trip of this magnitude.    

The reality is that while the pictures may make it look effortless, these kinds of trips require patience, compromise, creative thinking and planning.  For starters, coordinating the schedules of thirteen different people with vastly different lifestyles is overwhelming.   Two of my sisters are still in the National Guard which means a large portion of their summers are consumed with military training (thank God I finally retired).  I hadn’t been back from Africa but a little over a month and I had recently torn my ACL.  Going on this vacation meant postponing a necessary ACL reconstruction surgery.  At any given time, at least three of us work two, maybe three jobs.  In addition to my sisters and my divorced parents, one of whom still works part time, there are two brothers-in-law with jobs and extended families of their own. No, it wasn’t easy, at times it was downright frustrating as the conflicts from all directions seemed to mount.  I think there was literally just one week during the entire summer that worked for all of us after sifting through our schedules.  But we kept trying and hundreds of text messages and a few group phone calls later we finally identified a time we could all make work. What I appreciate is that no one threw in the towel when the first couple of weeks that were proposed wouldn’t work.  Instead, we kept trying until we finally found the one week during the summer that would work and then we committed to it.  It would have been easier to decide we couldn’t do a week that far away.  It would have been easier to just decide to throw mom a party in Iowa over a weekend.  But we would have missed out on the beautiful memories of climbing lighthouses together, watching my kids parasail for the first time with their aunts, hearing the excitement in LJ and Adeline’s voices when we found the wild horses on the beach, and playing together in the sand dunes of Jockey Ridge State Park.  Easy – definitely not.  But preferred, indeed.    

Next there is the matter of where that many people could possibly stay together somewhat comfortably.  We all enjoy staying together – not because it is always easy- in fact, admittedly, sometimes it is not.  Molly’s kids get up at 5 or 6 AM on the regular, as does my Dad.  I had to get up early to work as I was in the midst of negotiating and drafting an important agreement.  My mom and my fourteen-year-old son could stay up until midnight and sleep until 10:00 AM if you let them.  We all have very different schedules and responsibilities.  We jokingly referred to it as the house that never slept, and it can be an absolute fucking zoo to be quite frank.  Finding a house that could accommodate all the varied of the persons involved was a feat in and of itself.  Luckily, with a little bit of research we were able to find a three-story house on the beach of the Atlantic that had enough bedrooms and bathrooms to accommodate all of us.  It would have been easier to not stay together.  We could have decided to simply get our own accommodations and yes, that would have been easier and maybe even less expensive.  But, again, that is when the experience of connection really happens.  We would have missed out on hot tub parties as a family, games of cards, pizza at 9:00 at night as a family after a long day, grilling a steak fajita feast out on the patio and watching the sunrise over the Atlantic every morning with our father.  Easy – definitely not.  But preferred, indeed.  

Finally, there is the matter of what to do while we were there.  Not all of us like to do the same things or want the same things out of a vacation.  Molly likes beach days with the kids whereas I want to be on the go all the time.  Amy and my dad like a little alone time.  Molly and I’s kids are all different ages – with varied likes and tolerances for certain activities and stimulation.  As I mentioned I had a torn ACL and was in a large leg brace the entire trip which meant I couldn’t go swimming and that physical activity was more difficult.  Luckily, sister Anne developed a spreadsheet of activities – each day had a morning activity and an afternoon activity – and people could opt in or out as they saw fit.  There were activities we all did together, there were activities only some of us did, but what was important was that we had options – sort of like those choose your own adventure books you might have read as a kid.  It would have been easier to simply all do our own things and meet up for dinner at the end of the day. But we would have missed out on the shared adventures which I have already talked about but, even more importantly, the spontaneity that accompanies shared adventures – stopping for the world’s best ice cream in Manteo where sister Kristen convinced my daughter to get a four scoop cone just so she could eat the leftovers, singing rounds of a silly chant my son made up in the car on the way home, and reminiscing about past stories, new memories and family legends.  Easy – definitely not.  But preferred, indeed.    

I get it - your reaction may be to think this sounds like absolute hell but I would like to take a pause and challenge this reaction.  I think often times, we are taught – especially in recent years – that personal space and boundaries are the end all be all.  And yes, I get not overextending yourself and the value of self-care.  However, I think sometimes the message of personal space and boundaries gets taken to the extreme and is interpreted as meaning you should never have to compromise or feel uncomfortable or make sacrifices.  However, if we all took such an extreme position, we would never do anything with anyone unless it served our own agenda and was convenient.  The reality is, however, that isn’t how relationships are designed to work.  Great relationships aren’t great because they are always easy.  They’re great because the people involved care enough about each other to find a way to make it work – meaning sometimes making sacrifices, trade-offs, and compromises.  I am not bashing boundaries or personal space but what I am saying is there are tradeoffs when we become entrenched in that rhetoric.  Yes, there are times, like when you stayed up until 2 AM playing cards, that it is not ideal to be woken up by energetic children at 6 AM.  I powerfully choose to not focus on that because it is part of the compromise, part of the trade off of being in connection with others.  The great thing about carving out a week of time together in a place other than our home bases is that we all get to make new memories together.  It is in these moments when we are a bit less distracted or stressed out by the demands of everyday life that we can truly connect with each other in an impactful and powerful way.  Yes, it’s constant chaos.  But if I am really honest, it’s the kind of chaos that I long for in the quiet moments of my own life when I am at home alone.  If you have never experienced the depths of lonesomeness, I hope you realize what a place of privilege that truly is.  For me, however, nothing is as loud as the deafening quiet of loneliness.  And once you have truly felt the icy cold sting of not just being alone, but truly feeling alone, the noise and chaos of a house filled with people who love and care for each other seemingly dissipates. I guess the point in me telling you all of these details is that, sure, the pictures look cool.  Yet, the pictures aren’t the real story, at least not for me.  The real story is the power of compromise and priorities.  There were so many different points along the way that we could have thrown in the towel.  We could have said it was too hard, too complicated, or too much work.  We could have hidden behind personal space and boundaries.  We could have chosen isolation over connection because that would have been easier.  But I’m so very glad we didn’t.  Easy – definitely not.  But always, always preferred in my book.  

 

The Light of the Moon

 Hey y'all! The Dissident Daughters have been BUSY this summer. We took a family trip to the Outter Banks in North Carolina at the beginning of June. Amy has been spending her summer bike riding and attending various communal and music events in Des Moines. Jill had knee surgery and is busy being a boss lawyer and mother. Molly has taken trips up to New York to spend time with her in-laws and provide her kids with a fantastic summer experience around the water. Anne is ALWAYS busy with her gym, friends and planning the next family trip. And as for me, well, I'm finally settling into my new job at a nonprofit in LA, obtaining my Masters in Public Administration and Policy, while still working as a 2LT for the CA Army National Guard.

Anyway, thanks for being patient with the delay in posts. We just had a sisters "meeting," via text, where we discussed the frequency of posting and created an action plan to maintain a little more balance between the blog and our personal lives. Moving foward, we hope to at least post one time per month even if it is something small like this post today!

 In order to ease us back into our rotation, I wanted to start with a short, yet powerful poem, inspired by Moon Juice Mama (Molly Alesch) and the full moon last night!

All the hurt and lost souls stare at the moon,

The loves that never began and the ones that ended too soon.

The child that prays every night before bed,

And the old man that breathes but wishes he were dead.

The mother that worries about her son, 

And the soldier that thinks the war is soon to be won.

The addict that can’t seem to put the pipe down,

And the depressed widow that guises her frown.

The teenager who craves to be understood,

And the thief that wonders if they’re inherently good.

The artist that can’t seem to break their slump,

And the patient that’s unaware of her cancerous lump.

The doctor who tirelessly works each week,

And the quiet girl who wishes she wasn’t so meek.

The broken heart that craves the closure,

And the hometown gossip that never got any exposure.

In more ways than one we all sing the same tune,

And are complexly reminded by that through the light of the moon.

With love and positive energy,

<3 Kristen

Birthday Reflections! Heres to 29

My girlfriend and I watched the sunset from our 
rooftop last night. It seemed like the perfect
birthday eve activity. <3 

Ahh, ‘tis the eve of my 29th birthday; yes, that’s right, you read that correctly, TWENTY-NINE. I am about to enter the last year of this decade. It is hard to believe, as I succinctly remember listening to “What’s My Age Again?” by Blink 182 as a six year old child and thinking that 23 was SO OLD. Now, here I am and then some.

Aging is weird. It’s definitely a privilege not granted to all and it’s also a little unsettling. You don’t always feel the process of aging, but you definitely see it, not just within yourself but with others. You witness your own and other people’s seasons, all which are a part of the cycle of life. Some seasons are joyous, some seasons are lonely, and some even tragic; all are beautiful in some way I suppose. 

I write this blog to talk about what I have learned in my current season, the season between day one and 364 of age 28. Let’s dive into a few.

1) It is not your job to make people understand or feel comfortable with your journey. Throughout the course of the last year, and a good majority of my life if I’m being honest, I have had the tendency to overexplain. If someone didn’t relate to a decision I made, I would immediately attempt to explain it to them in a way that would seem relatable or logical. Sometimes I wouldn’t even give them the space or opportunity to ask a clarifying question because I would immediately begin justifying myself or the situation. This past year has taught me that I am not responsible for owning people’s inability to empathize or their discomfort. I do not need to prove, justify or over explain my journey. Their confusion and discomfort is theirs to work through and no one else’s, and I do not have to alter my journey in order to make it easier for anyone to understand.

2) The things we’re anxious about don’t always come to pass. Seriously, we spend all this time worrying for several situations to never even occur. Obviously there are some anxieties that are inevitable such as death, paying bills, etc. However, there are some that never come to pass and once we realize that, we will likely feel silly that we ever even worried about them to begin with. 

3) Life isn’t on your time. There are some opportunities that you choose, and there are others that choose you. Sure, you can have a plan and prepare for the life you ultimately want to live AND life is concurrently happening all the while. Sometimes some opportunities aren’t meant for you and sometimes they just aren’t meant for you now. Either way, when life is ready for you to do a certain thing, meet a certain person, go a particular place, it will happen. Just trust the flow of the Universe.

4) Feelings are neither good nor bad; they just are. Feelings can be extremely uncomfortable. The discomfort they cause can make us want to eliminate or alleviate some feelings. A lot of time this encourages us to “act.” We numb, we run, we occupy or we make a decision that seems like the best way to get rid of the feeling. Sometimes feelings are telling us to act and other times they are telling us to sit. Feelings come and feelings go and they can tell us a lot about ourselves and the world we are living in. Sometimes they arise for us to learn and to notice, and other times they arise to motivate us to move. Either way, they are neither positive or negative, they just are. It is up to us to decide what our feelings are telling us about ourselves, a situation or person(s).

5) Intimacy requires difficult conversations and moments. There is no other way to build it. I told my girlfriend last May, “I don’t want to do hard things with you.” I don’t like emotional pain or discomfort, hell I’m not sure anyone does (umm, hello! Did you read the previous bullet point?!). I wanted to avoid every obstacle that could potentially cause sadness or emotional pain/discomfort. Truth is, love and emotional pain are not inseparable. When you love someone, there are always going to be moments of great happiness and moments that are difficult such as life transitions, distance, family hardships, conversations, etc. Both are critical in building intimacy and where one is present (love), the other is not too far around the corner (emotional pain). 

Anyway, that’s all I have to close out year 28 and welcome year 29. I’m excited to continue to get to know Kristen Alesch. She’s a pretty great human and seems to just keep getting better with age. The last line I’ll leave you with (like I did for my birthday post a couple years ago), trust the Universe, trust your soul and be genuine <3.