And so it goes....

Listening to Youth Lagoon: July 

New beginnings can be bittersweet.

But, as I write to you on the eve of my last day at a job I’ve had for nearly four years, I’ve never felt more…exhilarated, at peace, and well….

terrified.

I've learned more about myself in the past four years of working at this job than I had in the previous 20. For instance, really feeling what it is that tugs at my heartstrings and motivates that push; learning to adapt to an audience with just the introduction of my name; finding even the slightest ounce of patience and understanding to even the most outrageous of life experiences; discovering how to live in this moment and focus on what is here in front of me; not to dwell on things that are out of my control. I was given the opportunity to not only work with, but also alongside, individuals who have seen the extreme depths of struggle- and even worked through a few patches in my life that weren’t going so smoothly.  To be able to shift my perspective and understand human suffering, struggle, and honest mistakes has given me the gift of humbleness- this introspective idea that we’re all just walking around, trying to figure “it” out.  But realizing that this thing we’re all searching for is what should make us get out of bed in the morning, and that too many of us are afraid to lean in the discomfort of what it takes to find it.

I refuse to let the discomfort stand in my way.

Monday will mark my first ‘official’ day with the Idaho Trial Lawyers Association, doing everything from coordinating events, assist with lobbying in Idaho legislation, to handling all communications of the organization. I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t having my own self-doubts (Yeah, mostly I've been freaking out…) about entering my foot into this new “professional realm”, I also recognize that I have never been more ready. I have many people in my life to thank – from the most amazing friends and family, co-workers, bosses, and by-standing Boise professionals that whatever it is inside of me- I couldn’t be doing this without any of you.

Cheers to new beginnings, dear readers. I’m scared as hell and ready as ever.

Yellow Chair Therapy

(First, listen to this.)

One of the most frustrating things I’ve had to come to terms with in my 24 years of existence was accepting an excruciating emotion;  you know, that gut-wrenching feeling of not feeling good enough, loved enough, (insert anything) enough- also known as  vulnerability. From the time I was old enough to recognize it, it’s something I’ve been trained to run from.  In my 20s, I developed somewhat of a personal vengeance for it- doing everything possible to tackle it, attack it, or numb its presence. You see, because of my job, vulnerability and I also have an understanding with each other. It’s one of the most obvious things I can read on people as they sit in my uncomfortable (…yet adorable) yellow chair as they tell me about the personal struggles in their life. Vulnerability is so overwhelmingly palpable that during its fleeting moments we don’t even know that we’ve succumb to its powers. However, while its presence can be painful, I’ve begun to understand that it is also an integral part of the process. The process of healing, loving, succeeding, whatever it may is that you’ve created as your “goal”. Vulnerability is your reality check- that hand that slaps your face to remind you that you are still here.

One day, I was shown a TED talk with Brene Brown- who studied the in and outs of this feeling- and it clicked. While feeling vulnerable was excruciatingly painful, it was also a necessary part of everything. It’s not good or bad, particularly- but, it’s neutral. So, instead of trying to run, numb, or thinking I have the slightest bit of control over it- I’ve been actively working on having it be my neutral. Of course, there are days where I feel so internally insane that I laugh at myself for trying to put a positive spin on it. But today, as I write to you across from my empty yellow chair- I can tell you that feeling vulnerable is so much better than feeling empty, alone, or unsatisfied. I am so incredibly lucky to have this life, this moment, these people. Some days, I need to sit in my yellow chair and just be.

Wintertime Blues....err, Grays?

Listening to: Yim Yames- All Things Must Pass (Beatles Cover)

Yep, it’s that time of year again. Although the snow has been absent this winter, don’t be fooled folks! The grass is drab. The trees are still and naked. The air is bitter. Sometimes this ‘drab, still, and bitter’ can creep into your mind and take over your thought process. Whether it’s about love, work, stress, friendships, or lack-there-of ‘all the above’- I’ve been seeing a consistent pattern amongst my closest friends and co-workers. While Seasonal Depression is no joke, I’ve been finding wintertime blues as one of the most consistent parts of life: these moments of…well, nothing. No color, no sunshine (or at least...any that us day-time workers get to see), unwelcoming air. That feeling where you go to work, come home, repeat- It’s enough to drive any sane person to the outer limits of their own mind. I’ve found it’s also easy to latch on to this emotion- as if it’s the only “thing” around to connect with.  What can we do to avoid this feeling? Well, that’s for you to find out on your own.

I love this city

For me it’s been moonlit hikes in the foothills (shout-out to Dave), afternoon wine-walks with C., hotspringing, and dancing my weekends away with my beautiful friends.

Well, all of that AND  knowledge that with the right dose of sunshine the grass will again turn vibrant green, trees will once again dress themselves, and the air will return to my lungs like an old friend. In the words of my greatest mentor  “nature always gets her way.”

Yes, it’s true, all things must pass – even winter and those wintertime blues. Cheers to spring!