Posts in GROW
Calmer Than You Are, Dude: A Calm Meditation App Review
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Post Written by Markus

I toed-into meditation kicking (not literally) and screaming (literally).  I don’t remember the specific circumstances or what my exact frustration was, but I remember exactly where I was and how I felt.  It was a few years ago and I was getting into my car in front of our house and I couldn’t contain how upset was.  I felt beyond frustrated, beyond overwhelmed, beyond distraught. 

Somehow, I managed to take out my phone, search for a meditation app, download it, open it, and do a 5-minute “Emergency Calm” session.  That session was very weird to me, having never done this before.  All I could think was “am I doing it right?” and “Is this even going to work?” and “What is the point of this even?” (well, throw in as many expletives as you can, and you’ve got it).

Amazingly – it did work.  That first session was excruciating, even just to sit still and quiet that long - but it did keep me from throwing my phone against a brick wall.  Whatever happened in those 5 minutes was enough to take me from redlined to just slightly-below-redlined.  I would describe the experience as when a parent helps a child calm down by lovingly guiding them through deep breaths and honoring their emotion, whatever it is.  “There might be something here,” I thought.

I had previously read the book 10% Happier by Dan Harris and it made a lot of sense to me and I bought-in to the idea of meditation in principle – but I had no idea what it was (“Is that some kinda Eastern thing?”).  I figured I’d keep the principle on-deck in case I ever got desperate enough to need it - which luckily I was on that day.

WHAT IS IT?

So what is the Daily Calm?  In short, it’s an exercise in calming the mind that channels resilience and acceptance when done regularly over time.  Really, there’s not much to it – the only things you need are:

  • Yourself

  • Your phone with the Daily Calm app loaded (there are others, like Headspace that are great too)

  • A quiet place where you won’t be disturbed

  • Optional – headphones if that’s your preferred method of audio (it’s definitely mine, specifically these – the noise-cancelling function is incredible and makes me 3% calmer)

That’s it in terms of tangible ingredients.  My favorite places to do a Calm session are:

  • On a yoga mat at the gym after a workout

  • On the sofa at home

  • In our wellness room at the office

  • In my car, especially since this is easy in terms of access, I know I won’t be disturbed, and audio is easy over Bluetooth.  I keep a pair of sunglasses in my car to wear during sessions so it looks slightly less strange if someone walks by.

    (I’ve been told that meditating in the car is not actually an ideal location from a Pavlovian standpoint. If possible, the goal from that perspective is to have one regular place where most meditation sessions are done. Ideally that would be a place that’s not used for anything else so the automatic mental association of that place is one of calm and “this is where I calm down and meditate” rather than “this is where I channel stress during rush hour traffic”.)

In terms of the best time to do a session:

  • The absolute best time without a doubt is the time that works best for you.  Just like a diet or exercise plan, the “best” one is the one that you’ll actually stick to.

  • Within that context, the overwhelming consensus is that morning is best (or the beginning of your “day”, if you’re on a non-standard work schedule).  Meditating in the morning sets the tone for the day as a tone of calm.  By doing it in the morning, it’s a guarantee that the session actually happens before the changing schedule-landscape of the day begins.

So what actually happens during a Calm app session?  As little as possible.  From what’s observable – a person sits still with eyes closed for about ten minutes while listening to guidance (well, mostly quiet with some guidance) from the app. After the session, the person opens their eyes and is ostensibly – calmer.  My app shows that I’ve logged 359 sessions so far and I can attest that without exception, this is the result every time.  That said, across all those sessions, there have definitely been some sessions where I wasn’t “as calm as I should be or wanted to be” after the session, but definitely was still calmer than before doing the session.

Which brings up a great point – there is no “should” with meditation and there is no physical “goal.”  The point is to listen, observe, accept, and be – and if it’s “there” today, the idea is to calm the river of thoughts in the mind.  Usually that’s brought about through a focus on the natural breath (just breathing normally, not forcing deep breaths) and observing thoughts without attaching to them or following them.  Whatever’s there in the mind today is what’s there – in terms of emotion, and especially in terms of thoughts.  From a metaphysical perspective, the theory is that “we are not our thoughts” and that instead we are the person witnessing the thoughts. 

The metaphor of standing behind a waterfall is a great way to illustrate this.  The river is the flow of thoughts – endless, rushing, turbulent, deep.  When the river goes over the waterfall, the observer watches the waterfall from an alcove behind the actual waterfall.  Even though the stream of thoughts is so fast and powerful, the observe can see that “I am not my thoughts, I am the person hearing my thoughts.”  Big deal, especially when you’re dealing with a tyrannical mind (my case) – which is a topic for another day.

Another of the most common metaphors used to describe meditation is that of watching clouds pass in the sky.  The observer doesn’t identify with the clouds as “I am the clouds that I see” but only watches them as they pass, noting “Hey, there’s a cloud.”  In the same way, the idea with meditation is to watch thoughts pass in the mind and not attaching to them as “these are my thoughts” or “these thoughts are me”, but instead noting “Hey, there’s a thought” – and honestly leaving it at that. 

After that, it’s a return to following the breath – in… and out.  In… and… out… and… in… and.. out… Really the entire process boils down to that – maintaining a loose focus (in the Daily Calm, usually a focus on the breath – or in other practices, a focus on a mantra) by breathing naturally and redirecting.  Redirecting is just that simple moment of noticing when the focus has shifted from the breath over to a thought, letting the thought sit where it is, and going back to the breath. In and out.

Thoughts are often “shiny objects” with a particular pull for the mind and focus - for me, normally it’s along the lines of “HEY THIS IS A REALLY IMPORTANT THING THAT YOU’RE GOING TO NEED TO REMEMBER SO YOU NEED TO THINK ABOUT THIS THOUGHT RIGHT NOW INSTEAD OF FOCUSING ON THE CALM APP OR BREATHING OR ELSE YOU’RE NOT GOING TO REMEMBER THIS THOUGHT AFTER YOU’RE DONE AND THEN HOW WILL YOU EVER KNOW AND IS THIS CALM APP THING REALLY THAT IMPORTANT COME ON MAN YOU CAN JUST THINK ABOUT THIS OTHER THING FOR A LITTLE WHILE”.

That moment is where the rubber hits the road for me.  Saying “whatever this thought is, I trust myself enough that if it’s really super important, I’ll remember again later.”  In this moment, while I’m doing my Calm session – there’s nothing more important that I could possibly be doing, not even remembering a thought or idea that I have during the session. And I know that my marching orders are to just notice “hey, there’s a thought.”  As a person who writes down almost everything “or else I won’t remember”, this has not come naturally to me - but has made all the difference.

 

AM I DOING IT RIGHT?

This has been tough for me to quantify because there is no directly measurable external metric (well, technically there is and you could even have meditation “contests” to see who’s “better” at meditating – but that flies directly in the face of the concept of non-attachment). 

The ultimate test in my view is “am I leaning more toward Acceptance, Breathing, Presence, and Non-Attachment over time?”  If the answer is yes, then it’s a clear indicator that you’re moving in the right direction.  If the answer is no, but you’re enjoying the daily 10-minute session and feel like you’re getting something out of it – then I’d argue that yes, you’re still doing it right.

And you’re not limited to once per day (especially if you draw inspiration from comedy great Jerry Seinfeld who’s famously been a huge proponent of Transcendental Meditation – crediting much of his success in dealing with the stress of “Seinfeld” to taking two breaks each day for a 20-minute meditation session). Once a day is a great frequency to get rolling with meditation and makes it an “easy win” that doesn’t seem too daunting each new day. Where the Daily Calm shines is the daily meditation session that’s new each day and specific to that day. Serendipitous, kismet, The Universe Has Your Back, whatever you want to call it - it’s eerie how timely the daily topics can be. Beyond these there are also plenty of pre-loaded sessions that are available to listen to any time.  These cover topics such as “Managing Stress”, “Calming Anxiety,” “Emergency Calm,” and “Emotions.”

 

DAILY USE

Most days, I start my day with a Calm session.  Not. Every. Day. #Blasphemy, I know!  On a fair amount of the off days, I’ll work in a session later in the day.  Plenty of days I don’t do a session at all – not intentionally but I’ll notice that’s how it shook out.  I don’t see that as a problem – I just notice.  The next day, I look to make it happen more intentionally since I missed a day already. 

I’ve found that the times that I’m most consistent overall in life are when I’m doing the Calm app regularly. I’ve also found that that I’m most consistent with sitting still for a Calm moment when I do it first thing in the morning. It’s called “Daily Calm” and doing it daily is obviously the goal. That said, in the almost three years that I’ve been pausing for Daily Calm sessions, my longest streak is 12 days in a row – still shy of two consecutive weeks.  As a dude who has a PhD in All-or-Nothing approaches, that’s humbling.  And it’s OK. I notice it, and I let it sit. And then I breathe in. And I breathe out.

I also use the Calm app in other ways – the sleep stories and the Breathe bubble.  Our daughter actually loves both.  The sleep stories are usually about 30-minute stories read by soothing narrators (think Matthew McConaughey and Anna Acton).  Stories include The Nutcracker, The Wind in the Willows, and even some by Bob Ross, the master of Happy Little Accidents.  When our daughter goes to sleep, I’ll set a timer on the phone for 5 minutes and we’ll listen to a portion of whichever sleep story she chooses.  Pro tip – if you’re using you phone as the timer, use the “Stop Playing” option instead of an actual alarm sound. The story just stopping keeps the “time to sleep” vibe going much more than a loud ringtone alert does.

The Breathe bubble is so simple but so profound in what it does. It has a few different options to set duration and type of breathing – my favorite is box breathing (made famous in part by the Navy Seals). At times when our daughter (or me, let’s be real) is overwhelmed, this is a great option to take a few minutes and seriously reset.  Box breathing is no joke, and can take either of us from wound-up-real-tight to ahhhhhhh-relaxed in just that short duration of a few minutes.

If this sounds like something that might be useful to you, check out the Daily Calm app and give it a spin!  The app allows each person to give out five 30-day guest passes - here’s my link for the first lucky five people! Calm also published a book that features many of the same principles as the app - and is great if you’re a very visual person (me, me, me).  I hope this gets you one step closer to being “Calmer than you are, Dude.” Namaste, homies.

GROWMarkusComment
Jake Ryan is Dead to Me
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post written by Lilly

Sixteen was not the easiest year for me. My grandfather was an extra parent to me. I lived in his house at times, I ate dinner with him upwards of five times a week, he was perfectly over- attentive to me and my goals and accomplishments. The summer before I turned sixteen, he had suddenly died on my third day of my sophomore year of high school.

High school - that was another problem. I was a second generation legacy at my Mom’s private, all-girls Catholic high school and a square peg to say the least. Especially with the added loss of my grandfather, it was all I could do to keep off the sensation that I was drowning and not just walking down the halls between classes. People that I thought were my friends from middle school were moving on to more elevated social circles, and it felt to me like a key step in this process for them was treating me like I was dead. As a July birthday, I was a full year younger/behind most of my classmates at a time when it seemed that every second on the life experience clock counted - the more mature you were, the better. Add my cluelessness to the lack of control I had over my grief, and I was completely socially inept and useless. The worst part was, no one else had these problems. Everyone else was perfect and I was lost. Until I found John Hughes.

John Hughes movies, The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Pretty in Pink, were finally spaces where I could find other people like myself (and even some empathy for those pesky popular kids who, given some of these plot lines, may not have their lives all figured out either).

As a self-proclaimed invisible sophomore feeling a little lost with all of the changes happening in my family, Molly Ringwald as Samantha in Sixteen Candles was the storyline of choice.

Just like Samantha, I had a family that I loved, although the more independent I felt and the more that was going on, the more I began to wonder how much I truly identified with them (which seems about right for sixteen). Maybe home was in a fresh start, possibly with someone incredibly handsome and adored by everyone in my social circles so my self-doubt would be infinitely tamed and I would know everyone could clearly see how much I mattered. Maybe, based on the iconic popularity of this movie, you felt this way too. I’m just grasping at straws here.

Life was hard right now, but my Jake Ryan was just around the corner. Love would come for me. And it would know my birthday without having to ask and, when everyone else around me was caught up in their own humanity, this love would know everything I wanted and deliver it eagerly. My birthday cakes would be gorgeous and thoughtful forever, with my favorite icing flavor I never had to share and candles that matched my bridesmaid’s dress.

And then, miraculously, I got him. My Jake Ryan, complete with the hair, chiseled jawline and perfect amount of stubble. He didn’t have the Trans Am but it sure felt close when he drove anywhere and I was in the front seat of his car. Twelve years later, it still does.

There was one pesky problem. The romance. There was no doubt he loved me. I could see it every day with his respect, attentiveness and care. It was just, like...where were the grand gestures? When I felt a little lost or unsure of myself, where was my unanticipated act of reassurance from him? Where was my surprise perfect birthday cake?!

How was this wonderful man “the one” if he wasn’t anticipating and meeting all of my unspoken needs? Did he even know me?

No, he didn’t. Because I hadn’t fully shown him who I was.

Sharing what I need can be so vulnerable, more so the older I’ve gotten. For me, it only took a few times of saying what I needed and not getting it - in friendships, family or even at work - to teach myself that the lesson here was no one cared and there’s no point in saying anything, making the fantasy that one person did even bigger.

The story became “If he loves me, he’ll know what I need,” instead of “He loves me and wants to know what I need.”

Sometime this past year, we met with our marriage counselor, going over a sticky morning from earlier that week. The day before we had a wonderful morning, where Markus walked in from exercising to greet me still in bed, lovingly talk to me and then going to turn on the coffee. It started my entire day perfectly. But just the next day, it was the opposite - he walked to the other end of the house to the coffee pot first followed by popping his head into our room to say hello.

I explained calmly to our therapist how difficult it was to try to be in a relationship with someone who prioritized me one morning and then not the next.

Our therapist: “Mm, yes. And at what point did you tell Markus how important the previous day’s interaction was to you and that you would like to continue doing that?”

My internal dialogue: Why would I have to do that? They don’t do that in the movie. Also, I’m in a fight with myself over deciding it was time to find a therapist that challenged me.

And this was the first time in twelve years of dating the same guy (and many other previous experiences I can see more clearly now), that it dawned on me. This idea of love was from a movie.

Jake Ryan, you guys, is a movie character.

People may not even be able to act like that - to read our minds and just give us what we want without asking. The whole concept and plot could be a work of fiction, which may also explain how he was able to clean his house so quickly after that rager.

We have a new phrase in our house, thanks to our therapist a la Brene Brown, “clear is kind.” If you love someone, help them make you feel loved by being clear with what you need, what you expect, how you feel. I could try to trade my husband in for a mind reader, but I don’t think he would be as good looking, funny or perfect for me in every other way.

Last week, I got hit with a stomach virus. Barely able to stand or talk, I could see Markus standing in my periphery either trying to think of a way to help or waiting for my head to start spinning.

“Hey,” he said, “I”m so sorry. Can I do anything to help?”

My internal dialogue: Think of what I need so I don’t have to and do it for me. Take this excruciating pain away from me. Then find a small but strong family of doves to wrap me in a chenille blanket and carry me the ten feet to our bed where you will stroke my hair with the exact cadence and pressure I’d like without me having to tell you.

Then I got still enough to think and got the strength to mutter, “May I please have a glass of still, room temperature water?”

As much as I didn’t want to have to use this new and still uncomfortable-to-me method in such bleak circumstances, I knew I had to in order to get the help I really needed. With all the physical suffering I was in, we had a razor thin margin for error without me coming completely unhinged.

In that moment, it finally clicked that by not communicating, I’m really only creating scenarios where I feel hurt and lonely from my own actions, not my partners’ lack of.

From the kitchen he yelled to me, “I’M GETTING YOUR WATER. STILL AND ROOM TEMPERATURE. IT WILL BE OK. THANKS FOR BEING CLEAR WITH ME BABE I AM SO PROUD OF YOU.”

I rolled my eyes and gagged with the micro comfort of knowing what I needed was on the way. From a guy who still looks a lot like Jake Ryan, which is an added benefit.

The process of being forthcoming with what I want still doesn’t seem as easy as Samantha literally making eye contact with Jake at the dance, walking off and getting her perfect birthday cake 20 hours later. But the happy endings are abundant on this new model and my husband is pretty dope for a non-movie character human being like myself, so I’m willing to participate.

And here’s the thing about those acts of reassurance. I can create them for myself.


Maybe Jake Ryan is toxic, or maybe there’s a deleted scene where he calls Samantha and asks if he can have anything at his place for them to enjoy and she mentions, why yes, it’s her birthday and she’d like a two-tier buttercream icing cake with 16 evenly lit candles. Maybe Jake got this one right on a fluke, but for the sake of all of the birthdays, anniversaries and all the everyday moments in their future, I hope Jake and Samantha get to figure out clear is kind. Maybe we’ll all get to see for ourselves in the sequel, A Simple Breakfast at Home for Mother’s Day Because We Talked About It and That’s What My Wife Really Wants.

GROWLilly Comments
The ManKind Project’s NWTA Weekend
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Post Written by Markus

On a Monday afternoon last September, Lilly sent me a text: “Hey, I found this weekend men’s retreat that sounds interesting, would you consider going?”  I was on a huge deadline push at work that day and I read the text quickly before replying “Sure, thank you.” Lilly had heard of a similar retreat a year or two back that I also attended and based on that experience, it was an easy decision for me. That prior retreat was on the shores of a lake nearby and it was a silent retreat. No talking, no phones – just being. It was one of the best things I’ve ever done and it was incredibly grounding, calming, and centering for me. Apparently, I was now the kind of guy who regularly goes on retreats like this – bring on the silence and a break, I thought.

What I didn’t know was that this weekend was a bit different than the first one. This one was called NWTA (“New Warrior Training Adventure” – I’ll be honest, I rolled my eyes at the name) a three-day “retreat” that seemed to be the main event put on by an organization called The ManKind Project (MKP). I was still trying to figure out what any of this actually was and I figured that if MKP or this warrior weekend was really such a big deal, then I would have already heard of it before now.

Full disclosure – Lilly hadn’t found this new retreat as something unique and interesting just because she cares about me (although she does and she would) – but because it was a long shot at trying to get things moving that were stuck, specifically in/with me. Things like emotion (me not expressing emotion, me not understanding Lilly when she expresses emotion, me having low empathy), listening skills (or lack thereof), reliability in general, and my lack of a well-defined purpose beyond “work hard and be good for my family.”

GETTING READY

That same Monday afternoon, I got a (slightly) better picture of what I was getting into as I was texting Lilly:  “OK, so what is this retreat exactly?”, “Where is this place?”, “What do people who’ve attended say about it?” On the MKP site they describe the weekend as “not a retreat” (thanks guys - wait, OK what is it then?) and they refer to it as “a real-time hero’s journey” (way to be dramatic about it, I thought).

The official MKP description of the weekend is: “You'll get more than you're willing to hope for: purpose, passion, vibrancy, joy, healing, connection to self, new energy, clarity, power, freedom, understanding, brotherhood, trust. Over 64,000 men have now taken this journey, and every man's experience has been unique.” That description also didn’t help me much – that’s just a list that sounds like it was pulled from a BuzzFeed clickbait post titled “13 Things The Modern Man Needs To Be a Hero (Number 8 May Surprise You!)”.

Boy, it seemed like these guys really weren’t doing much to pitch this to the average guy as something that might seem even remotely appealing – unless he was a guy who needed a Hail Mary attempt at keeping a marriage together, which was the case for me. With that context, it honestly didn’t matter what they called this non-retreat adult man sleepover weekend. Like so many other decisions in my life, this came about because it was finally too painful to not change.

As I was looking for any third-partyreviews of this experience/weekend, the trail pretty much ran cold. I could find almost nothing online about this organization or the weekend – which meant my imagination began to run wild.  What little I did find seemed questionable at best and what I didn’t know at the time was that there were two things at play:

  1. MKP is by definition a men’s group (explicitly welcoming to GBTQ) by each man’s own definition.  Saying that to say – as a group, men are generally less effusive, and are already less likely to write reviews of their weekend non-retreat experiences.  My opinion is that this is one reason why there are few reviews out there.

  2. The weekend has been running for over three decades, is held in many countries, and generally still takes the same shape today as the early years. A fair amount of the efficacy of the weekend is based on the construct of following a hero’s journey where a large part of it is the unknown of the path before you. To this end, MKP asks attendees to talk in generalities about the weekend and leave the specifics for each man to experience on his own during the weekend. In my opinion it’s this request, coupled with #1 above, that leads to the shortage of actually useful third-party information about MKP online.

Where this really doesn’t work in MKP’s favor is that online, the vocal minority has the floor. The guys who are attending and having awesome, life-changing experiences are not writing about it – at least not where other interested guys can find the reviews. For me, that was crucial and I was basically taking a leap of faith with little time to decide whether to spend $750 (wait - seriously, $750? Seriously.) for the weekend. MKP does offer case-by-case options and they want to make sure that cost is never a barrier to attendance.

Lilly sent me that text on a Monday and the way the timing of this retreat fell, it was that upcoming weekend in a rural area outside Houston. If I would have paused at any point between that moment and the weekend (I didn’t) to make a list of the things I thought were not working in my life and that I might like to examine during the weekend, it would have included:

  1. Lack of emotional attunement

  2. Lack of traction/consistency in progress

  3. Lack of connection with my inner child

  4. Unawareness of shame (and the major role it was playing in directing my life)

  5. Lack of a clearly-defined purpose – sure, I wanted to be a good husband, good dad, and have a good career – but I had never defined the actual goal and hadn’t considered what greater overarching purpose there might be

  6. Fears that I had never faced that were redirecting my life by me avoiding them

  7. Though I couldn’t put my finger on it, what I now recognize as a constant need for approval

Even though I didn’t put it into those words before the weekend, I had a strong sense that something was going on. I also believed that I was the only one feeling like this and that these problems were unique to me. That led me to avoid talking about them, which only made them worse.

LESSONS FROM THE WEEKEND

The best way to describe the weekend actually is MKP’s standard description from earlier in this post. Each man’s experience is different. It’s an opportunity to take a look at things in life that are working (and things that aren’t working) in a different context. Think Joseph Campbell and his paradigm of the myth of the hero’s journey – especially the quote “The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.”

The other best way to describe the weekend is describe what I got from the experience, including lessons about these topics below. By “lesson”, I mean something that I absorbed to a level deeper than just a theoretical surface-level understanding.

  1. What a man is, and what he is not (most of the images and archetypes celebrated by our culture are at best incomplete, and at worst, destructive to self and others)

  2. Emotional attunement (even just the “base” emotions of happy, sad, angry, afraid, ashamed)

  3. An understanding of agreements – the moments where I agree to do something and how I do (or do not) honor that agreement

  4. Integrity (aligning my words and my actions) + accountability (doing what I say I’ll do)

  5. Shame

  6. My inner child’s deepest need (and out of that, my mission)

  7. Understanding that I’m not on earth just to be a work-horse productivity machine

  8. Actually hearing my real Voice for the first time (both figuratively and literally)

  9. Connection with other men, besides just surface-level

  10. Connection with the Earth, with Nature, and with Life

  11. A deep sense of connection to the men who came before me in prior generations and those who will follow

The weekend was surreal in terms of cultivating a sense of reconnection to myself – and coming back home (literally and figuratively) was even more surreal. Everything at home felt very familiar yet also very different.  Our house looked the same when I walked up to the door, but my connection to it felt much stronger. I can’t explain how overcome with love, gratitude, and adoration I was when my eyes saw Lilly, My Love, for the first time after I came home.  

It was a deep sense of appreciation for an ocean of incredible qualities about her. For believing in me, for finding the weekend and encouraging me to attend, for her support in general – and a deep appreciation for her as a woman, especially for her intuition, for her emotion and her attunement, her love, her physical beauty – and her smile, her kind eyes, and her presence.

We talked some, but mostly we were quiet. I couldn’t stop looking into her gorgeous green eyes – holding her gaze, staring at her pretty face and taking in her beauty.  Lilly had picked up dinner for me and I was ravenous from the drive home – but I could barely be bothered to eat it, I was so taken by her. I’ve always been smitten but this was different. Just being next to her was enough and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The intensity and intimacy of our connection that first day back and across the next few days felt like something from a classic love story.

The first week was back to “normal” life was so surreal. I wore out Porangui’s album Ayahuasca Remixed which has the most awesome primal, tribal energy and beats. One of my favorite quotes from the movie Fight Club kept resonating in my mind “After fighting, everything else in your life got the volume turned down.”  It felt like everything in my life, especially the mundane work-life items, had become very muted in my daily life. The hard landscape was technically still the same but it seemed like everything had changed.

Before, it was a world where there were “so many” “important” things that I needed to stay aware of, pay attention to, and do something about. I had a death-grip attachment to viewing myself as Work & Productivity Man - and that attachment had long been trying to fill the voids in my life that I now call Identity and Purpose/Mission.

The thing I needed the most from the weekend (though I couldn’t have put it into words) was to have some kind of experience where I at least glimpsed a sense of trusting myself again. The experience of the weekend gave me a peek at that sense of trust and I could feel deeply that a very old need and wound was beginning to be met and healed. At the time I didn’t know quite how old and deep that wound was. I also didn’t know that the first week back was NOT actually the new normal, not yet at least – and not without a lot of hard work still ahead of me, and in so many unexpected areas of my life.

That first week passed and after that, the weekend was still semi-fresh on my mind – but definitely a little less fresh and a little less intense.  It seemed like “reality” was setting back in and I began to wonder if my weekend experience had produced real, lasting change – or if it was just an isolated experience to itself with no ultimate tangible translation to me actually living my life.

TODAY

One of the things that has not been lost on me is what purpose the weekend experience has served for me, besides the obvious shifts in emotion, Voice, and Connection. Those three weekend days together with the first days back at home were nothing short of an experience like looking directly into the Sun. It was white-hot, bright AF, and nurturing, and it let me directly experience first-hand the heights of what is tangibly possible for me in my life – and here’s the kicker – with what I already had inside myself that’s been there all along.

The toughest thing for me since the weekend was that realization that the initial “new normal” was not actually a new normal – at least not yet. I would compare it to the experience of coming back to “real life” from a proper vacation. On so many prior vacations, I’ve tapped into what I would describe as the core essence of my being – and that’s been via Connection to both myself and the world around me. I’ve gotten there essentially the same way every time – slowing down, breathing deeply, being present with myself, getting out in the Sun, and moving through nature. The Markus that came back from those trips was instinctively more focused on Energy, “Vibes”, and Fun than before the trips.

The main word I would use to describe MKP as an organization is Connection – with oneself, with other men (and with women), with emotion, with love, with nature, and spiritual connection (not religion - think along the lines of native American spirituality) with the ultimate goal of being a better man for those we love and the world around us. The other word I would use is Awakening – to the world, to others, and most importantly to oneself. I would describe this Awakening as the first step toward Recovery. By this I mean Recovery in the sense that Russell Brand defines the word: “recover[ing] the person you were born to be.”

Something I’ve noticed on many occasions since the weekend is increased attunement and intuition. One way this manifests is during times when I notice the opposite - a strong sense of mis-alignment in my life. That can be anything – the way I’m breathing (or not breathing), how strong (or weak) my Voice is on any given day, where my energy is focused, and especially my purpose/mission.

There are plenty of days that I wonder how I ever got to 36 years old before learning some of these (seemingly) very basic things that I learned about myself and about life at the weekend. I usually counter that with this quote from Steven Tyler, “I’ve got a lot of great excuses. Don’t we all? So what if I was 60 years late - I was busy getting ready.” Busy getting ready – that was me, and that was OK.

Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. I discovered something deep and important that weekend. I got glimpses at deep, powerful Truths that I’ve felt all along but hadn’t touched and couldn’t put my finger on. I heard my Voice for the first time.

What I got from the weekend actually was the “more than you’re willing to hope for,” just as advertised. There was the immediate impact and the lessons listed above – but it didn’t stop there. The weekend served as an initial catalyst and the amount and depth of things that have been healed since still blows my mind. I can 100% say that I don’t know where I would be today if I hadn’t attended that specific weekend last September. Either directly or indirectly, my weekend has somehow influenced all my growth since then.

Two Joseph Campbell quotes have also resonated very strongly with me since September. One is, “The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are” which I have taken to heart. For a long time in my life I wanted to (and did) conceal who I was, so this hits very deep for me.

The other is Campbell’s description of The Hero Path. This has been my understanding of life since the weekend:

We have not even to risk the adventure alone

for the heroes of all time have gone before us.

The labyrinth is thoroughly known

we have only to follow the thread of the hero path.

And where we had thought to find an abomination

we shall find a God.

And where we had thought to slay another

we shall slay ourselves.

Where we had thought to travel outward

we shall come to the center of our own existence.

And where we had thought to be alone

we shall be with all the world.

Before the weekend, I would have called this poem overly dramatic or trying too hard. After the weekend, each line resonates deeply. “Where we had thought to slay another, we shall slay ourselves.” I had thought that my problems in life were due to something outside myself - but when I took an honest look, the issue was actually me. When I started to change, magically so did my problems. “Where we had thought to be alone, we shall be with all the world.” What initially felt life-threatening was actually life-giving through the Connection that can only come from vulnerability and openness.

Check out the MKP FAQ page for more details about the weekend - I’d also love to answer any questions.  Hit me up in the comments below or send us an email for more!

The Glorification of Slow: Documenting Life with B Family Films

Post Written by Lilly

My job as a Mom often feels like it boils down to the title of CMM: Chief Memory Maker. I’ve taken on the responsibility of orchestrating and manifesting the collection of memories and joy in our family. I’m the birthday party planner and family vacation concierge. I buy the toys. I tend to set our weekend agenda. I pack the lunches with the little notes tucked inside.

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I spent a lot of “the early years” running myself exhausted and spending money on making memories, probably to the point of short-circuiting all three of us. Nothing says “this is a happy family” like three faces with forced smiles and traces of an organized event or city scene in the background, all squeezed neatly into the frame of an Instagram shot. Life forced us to slow down and after a while, I took the hint. It’s the slow time, not rushing from one activity to the next, that allows the little details of life to come into focus and become our memories - things like heart-shaped banana slices on freshly-baked bread or seeing the same little Mason jar cups and plates sitting on our dinner table every night.

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I’m a living, breathing Mom which obviously means that I therefore love family photos. I previously thought that we had already taken our family photos as far out as one can reasonably go in terms of fresh creative direction, locations, and themes. That said, I was recently smitten with B Family Films and their idea to document the parts of life that are often not photographed or even seen by other people outside the family. When B Family Film’s Cara asked if we would be willing to participate as a pilot family for their film process, I was quite excited and intrigued by their concept. Would our boring daily life and imperfect-as-hell home be worthy? And would it really look and feel like real life?

When we got the photos and videos back from Cara, I was overcome with emotion. I’ll let you see for yourself - here’s the video they created:

The threads that hold our beautiful, ever-evolving family tapestry together are connection and contentment. In our fast-paced world that pushes us to focus on the external, it’s often a minute-by-minute practice just to stay on track with either of those two values at the forefront. By entering our messy, simple life and translating it into such a thing of beauty, Cara created a work of art out of an ordinary evening in our home. I believe this is the type of honest, unpolished expression that can change our world by honoring the intent and highest purpose of our home - to serve as a vehicle of pure love.

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It’s almost a mini-rebellion to think of all of the gorgeous and stately spaces and landscapes around Dallas and know that, truly, I want our photos to be taken right here in our home. This is the home that currently still has the same color of paint on every single wall as when we moved in, still driving me a little crazy when I see it. The home with the dollhouse made from shipping boxes and duct tape, where I always lean in for one more goodnight kiss from my girl as she scampers off to bed. Few things in this world are truly mine, but this loving space and the connection to Markus and our daughter that I feel are what I know to be real.

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When we think of home design now, it’s often associated with designer curtain rods, impressive art collections or envy-inducing spaces. I’m the biggest fan of all of these. While they’re great, having a family was always the dream and priority for me. And what we dream for and prioritize requires sacrifice. When I was working in overdrive to pay for weekend activities, updates to our last home and other things I thought made life good, all I was actually doing was prioritizing my family last.

So we wear the same few clothes a lot now. We have fewer new things. Our vacations that bring us so much respite, discovery and delight may be few and far between and may be missing that social media WOW factor. Most of all, I keep a daily contentment practice that just because I’m not working on “impressive” projects with outward validation doesn’t mean I’m not doing big things. Every day here with these people is my gift. Walking into the door of our house (on our better days) brings that same exhalation I used to have to wait to feel on our best vacations. I continue to say no to things and to be mindful of our schedule and life because the little moments feel so good, too good to miss.

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These aren’t just mundane photos to me. They’re aspirational. They are the environment and people that inspire me to keep becoming a better version of myself. These are images for which I know the passage of time will only increase their value. We’ll look back and think of who we were in this chapter - a time when we all ate off of those plates at that table every night and when the corner of the living room always held that little pile of paints and musical instruments. One day our daugher won’t be here to run to us into a whirl of excitement as we come in the door. I work purposefully on a slow, simple life to allow that to happen as often as possible and help us look back on these days with fondness and no regrets. Thank you so much to B Family Films for honoring my work.

GROW, LIVELillyComment
Home Actually Is Where the Heart Is
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Post Written by Markus

Home. It’s a short little word – but the story behind it is usually anything but short. We each have a home with our family of origin that’s out of our control as children. That first home sets the tone for much of our lives through adulthood in huge ways, even when (especially when) we don’t recognize how it’s even happening.

Home is often a charged word – case in point, realtors refer to selling “homes” and not “houses.” The association of the word is for family, love, happy memories, and warmth - and at the beginning and end of each day, it’s where we belong. These days, the shelf-life of the average childhood home isn’t great and the divorce rate is high. My original home officially dissolved when I was almost 16 which means that I made it a lot further with my original home still technically “intact” than many of my friends did.

Where we are today as a culture, I believe (not a shocker here) that we’re in an epidemic crisis of lack of human connection. As we get more and more “connected” digitally, we slowly phase out in-person human-to-human experience and conversation. We have home-buttons on our browsers, home-screens on our phones, and home-pages on our websites. At the same time that we’re using the word “home” so much in our digital experience, we’re also decreasing actual human interaction. Why meet someone IRL just to talk when a text message can get the same information across – and don’t even talk to me about calling someone without texting them first.

I believe that today we’re in the greatest possible time to be alive so far in history as humans on this planet. So many critical problems that once threatened our very existence have been solved. Advances in medicine, science, and mental health keep expanding what’s possible for us. As the digital arc of our culture keeps increasing and does not yet seem to have a peak in sight, I believe the need for connection and home is greater than ever. For a long time I ran away from connection and from home because the associations for me were too painful. They were the opposite of family, love, happy memories, and warmth. Beginning when my parents’ relationship got rocky, home for me was a place of loneliness, fear, painful memories, and unbearable emptiness. Looking back now, I’m able to connect the dots in reverse and see that it was all part of beautiful healing story although I would have punched you if you’d have told me that during the hard times.

CHILDHOOD + SHAME

My childhood was pretty normal in many ways – from K to about 6th grade, my parents seemed to generally be happy, functional adults and family/home life held a positive association for me.  Though it was a modest upbringing, my parents had friends over for dinner all the time and home life was pretty peaceful. If you’d have asked me at the time, I’d have said that my parents were doing most things “right” and I would honestly have given them an A+ grade. It wasn’t until very recently that I was able to consider for the first time the idea that maybe my parents didn’t do as many things right as I’ve always believed.

At first blush, the idea seemed absurd to me because I’d believed the opposite for so long. As I kept turning it over in my mind and my heart, I started to see there was something to it. I began to accept the idea that maybe my parents weren’t 100% A+ parents.  I saw that actually, the way they raised me and their own patterns of unresolved trauma had planted deep, painful, untrue core beliefs about myself.  These also sent a loud and clear message about lack of belonging and a fear of the world around me that shaped my major life choices in huge, damaging ways – enter Shame.

Shame. I define this as “the deep belief that something about myself is utterly unacceptable and so I must hide it from everyone or face humiliation because of it.” A constant state of self-loathing and disconnection from the parts of myself that are unacceptable – which for a long time was pretty much everything. I could have easily told you anytime what my perceived flaws were. Body issues. My family’s modest means. Feeling different for being from another country. Believing that I was weak, stupid and lazy.

Where did the shame come from? Both of my parents seemed to lean toward shame as a preferred method of raising me. From that standpoint, there was much that was functional about shame – namely that it squashes behavior that the parent is looking to stamp out, like house training a dog the old school way. The problem is that it also stamped out my heart, my sense of belonging, and my identity – and left me with an ambient fear and mistrust of the world around me. The kicker though was how shame decimated my sense of self-confidence and took it another step further, leaving me with the opposite – a constant sense of specifically NOT trusting myself.

Not. Trusting. Myself. On paper it doesn’t make much sense. I’m an average guy who’s been through a fair amount of challenges and though I’ve made my share of mistakes, I have plenty going for me. Enough book-smarts to make school mostly a breeze and to find success in the engineering field after college. Being told on many occasions that I have innate leadership qualities that come across automatically when I first meet someone. Learning most new things quickly enough to feel like I’m a natural at almost anything that I try, to the envy of others.

But yet – even with those qualities and more, I was still actively not trusting myself. I believed deeply, strongly, critically that in each moment, I was the LEAST qualified person to face that moment for myself. It made zero sense to me until I started looking back and recognizing the shame and humiliation that drew the lines so early in my life. I was an active, engaged, bright child and I absorbed eagerly the things that were told to me by my parents.

When I wet my pants on the preschool bus when I was four years old, my mother completely let me have it with her words through shaming.  When my parents found out I had a crush on a girl in second grade, they made fun of me in front of family friends until I hid under a table crying from humiliation. It was deeply confusing for me - having to trust these two people as a dependent and at the same time being hurt so deeply by their shaming me for things I couldn’t help. I had to trust them 100% - whatever they told me, I believed was true.  The only way I could reconcile this in my mind and my heart was to believe that they were right about me. They were right when they told me that I wasn’t really a four-year-old because four-year-olds don’t wet their pants, they know better. They were right about me looking stupid and weak for having a crush on a girl and so I buried future crushes deep in my heart so no one else would see.

SELF-DESTRUCTION AS AN ADULT

For decades, the shame from my upbringing was a huge part of the lens through which I viewed the world, and more importantly, myself. I never even saw it - although looking back, it was clearly driving the bus. Much of my energy was going toward concealing myself and the parts that I believed were unacceptable and weak. My body did not measure up to what it should be – so I held my breath all the time. My productivity did not measure up to what I should be able to get done in a day – so walked faster than anyone else and I never took breaks, ever. My knowledge of any given topic was not as extensive as it should be, especially at work – so I kept my mouth shut and didn’t ask questions. Most importantly – I withdrew and isolated so that others wouldn’t see these Horrible Truths about myself.

I was constantly trying to prove what I was NOT, although I could never pile up enough evidence to convince myself that I was NOT these things. Not stupid, not lazy, not fat, not worthless, not embarrassing, not bad – but the toughest one was about belonging. I could not pile up enough evidence that I belonged, no matter where I was. The kicker was getting into an intimate relationship and then slowly sabotaging things because of how deeply I believed that I didn’t belong and that I was unlovable. I assumed that I must have lucked into hiding something that she didn’t see and I knew that I had better make damn sure that she never sees it, whatever it is.

I was completely oblivious to these self-defeating patterns for most of my life until a Cosmic Two-by-Four hit me over the head and made it too painful for me NOT to change. I think of Cosmic Two-by-Fours as messages of Love from the Universe that keep getting louder and louder until they’re impossible to ignore. These are messages of Love, yes - but Love presented through hard Truth, meaning that Pain is usually right there with Love and Truth. There’s growth that needs to happen and a lesson that needs to be learned - and for someone who’s been very stubborn and oblivious like me, it seems there is no other effective way than getting hit over the head with it.

My loudest, heaviest, most painful Cosmic Two-by-Four landed squarely on my forehead a few years ago when, after 18 months of hiding it, I told Lilly that we had substantial consumer debt spread across several credit cards. All of it had accumulated over the prior 18 months from living expenses in excess of our monthly cash budget. It started “innocently” one month when we didn’t have enough cash to cover what was on the cards, which at that point was a relatively minor amount. However, the instant that I realized this situation, I saw it as a weakness and a loud and clear message about my self-worth – and so I hid it. I did the same thing the next month and the month after that. This only made things worse for the climbing debt - and even more so for my mental health, my physical health, and my relationship with Lilly.

The progression inside my mind was always the same – from the initial sting of “uh-oh” during that first month, all the way to the house of cards crashing down. This was the same progression that I learned through shame and humiliation as a child, except as an adult I was now an Olympic-level pro at it.  Before, someone outside me had to convince me that I was bad and it took a little time and forceful words for me to absorb this message. Now, it was an inside job and the pathways in my brain and my heart were well-worn from years of practice. What used to take at least several minutes now took less than a split second - it went like this:

  1. External evidence of a perceived weakness: in this case, not having control over finances.

  2. Immediately assigning meaning about myself: “I am stupid, incompetent, and don’t have what it takes.”

  3. Immediately assigning meaning about my fate: “I don’t belong, I am shameful, I am bad, I am worthless – and things are not going to be okay because of me and there’s nothing I can do to change that.”

  4. Hiding and isolating: “OK, so I know these awful things about myself, but if I can just hide them from everyone else, maybe I can fool them enough to squeak by unnoticed until everything eventually still falls apart because of me.”

Every single day during those 18 months it went like that – although it kept getting louder and more painful. The trouble with this four-step progression is how good I had gotten at it. It was such an ingrained pathway in my brain that all the steps happened together, instantly. Just thinking about the credit card debt at any point during that 18 months immediately took me to “I am bad” and “Things are not going to be okay because of me and there’s nothing I can do to change that.” But I could never even put it into those words - instead it was a deep-seated feeling in my body that gave physical life to these crushing beliefs. I was constantly in a mode of fear and reaction – not ever making choices on purpose put only living in pain and running like hell from it and what it meant about me. It felt like I was barely holding up a massive dam that was about to break and that if I relaxed for one moment, it would all be destroyed because of me.

I kept up a front that everything was OK although Lilly could sense that it wasn’t. The amount of turmoil and tension inside my mind and body kept growing like a pressure cooker ready to explode. That stress culminated in me coming down with a bad case of shingles (yes, shingles) toward the end of that 18 months which was another Cosmic Two-by-Four asking quietly for my attention – although it still wasn’t quite painful enough to get through to someone as stubborn as I was.

The next few years from the day I told Lilly the news played out in excruciating fashion. I’m not proud of the things I said and I’m not proud of how little I did to make the situation better. This was a time of crushing depression that included the darkest days I’ve ever known. I was a shell of a person at best and I was a terrible example of what it means to be a man. The pain was unbelievable and seemed endless – I still don’t know how I made it through that time although I’m incredibly grateful that I did.

 

HEALING + A NEU HOME

Healing for me has played out through many different paths – though they’ve all had the same thing at the core: opening my heart. Mine was closed extremely tight, so let me tell you – this was not an easy or fast process, and that’s a huge understatement. The major elements, in terms of the momentum they gave me, are below. They’re so interconnected that it’s tough to even put them in chronological order, and even tougher to list them in order of “importance” or impact – so, they’re in alphabetical order. There’s not one in the list that I could remove, each one is that important on its own. I could write plenty about every single one (stay tuned).

  • Brainspotting

  • Breathing deeply (instead of only shallow breaths)

  • Carrying an Amor Fati coin in my pocket each day - and spending plenty of time with it in my open palm, just breathing and accepting

  • Connecting with my inner child through following my creative instincts

  • EMDR

  • Exercise, specifically old-school heavy weightlifting plus HiiT cardio

  • Getting involved with an international men’s organization called The Mankind Project

  • Journaling

  • Letting go

  • Love and Support from Lilly, to whom I’m eternally grateful

  • Meditation

  • Nutrition – especially acknowledging foods that are inflammatory for me and generally don’t work for my body or brain

  • Pursuing stillness, listening, and “being” instead of “doing”

  • Seeing a psychiatrist for the first time (this was a tough one to swallow)

  • Solo time in nature

  • Talk-therapy

  • Tough conversations (so many)

Without any of these, I would not be here today, not a chance. For so many years, I lived in a very oppressive place with a very cruel jailer and tormentor – my own mind. There was nothing I did that it didn’t see and it criticized me for every single thing I did and destroyed me anew for each one, whether good or bad. The cumulative effect of the Medicines in the list above has been nothing short of life-changing through deep healing for my heart.

For the first time in my life, I’m able to live each day in a place that is not oppressive and where I’m not driven by a constant seeking of belonging, validation, acceptance, and approval. It’s not that I don’t need these things anymore – I do, and deeply. But now I don’t need to seek them outside myself because I know intrinsically that I already have them within me - and that they were there all along.

THAT was the Big Secret that I didn’t know all along. Shame told me that I was embarrassing, bad, stupid, and worthless. Shame told me that I needed someone outside myself to tell me that I was OK and that I was enough. Shame told me that I was “less than” – literally less than every other person. Shame told me that I was a threat to my own being and that the only way to survive was to hide.

As I stand here today, I’ve heard my own Voice. I’ve literally faced every fear I’ve had. I’ve held that little boy’s heart gently in my hands and I’ve cared for it well. I can feel deeply that I’m the best person for the job of caring for that heart - not the worst, like I believed for most of my life. I’ve felt Truth -  and mostly it’s been quiet, shapeless, and without words. This was an inside job all along and I was so well-equipped to handle my own life - I just had unhealed trauma that kept me in self-defeating patterns and that hid the Ultimate Truth from me.

That Truth is that I am Love; that you are Love; that we are all Love and all connected. We all belong with each other – in the words of Ram Dass, “We’re all just walking each other home.” I did the best I could with what I had and what I knew at the time. Though it’s easy to look back to find evidence to the contrary so that I can beat myself up like I did for so long, I know deeply that this is true.

Today I can honestly say that I’m comforted by knowing that I will never experience the same level of darkness again as the darkest days I’ve known. That’s because of the healing I’ve experienced so far and the connection I have with myself and my heart. No matter what circumstances happen, I know more than anything that I don’t have it in me to hate myself anymore or to abandon myself anymore.

The pathways of self-loathing are still there just like expressways that get built and that have millions of cars running down that pavement over decades. If you put up a “road closed” sign, some cars may stop driving on the road - but the pavement is still there. It takes time and hard work to build new paths and to get familiar enough to go down that new road - instead of the old familiar ways that I drove down so easily on autopilot. I can still recognize the patterns and the old conditioning - but usually when I recognize them, it’s because I’m noticing how things are playing out differently and how I’m NOT going down those roads anymore.

The darkness and pain I experienced were excruciating. That said, they were well worth it to gain the healing and growth that my heart and inner child had so desperately needed for such a long time. There is no way to overstate this deep, critical need. Every moment of my life was driven by a need for external approval to accumulate any evidence of acceptance and belonging – anything to counter the pervasive ambient self-rejection and self-hate.

For many years, “home” was a four-letter word to me. After my family of origin fell apart when I was in middle school, “home” was the last place I wanted to be. I barely used the word “home” in conversation, I would say “house” instead. Though I still have a sense of loss for my family of origin and the home we once had, that grief now feels healed. Today I’m fortunate enough to be creating a new home with Lilly – our home that belongs to us both, and that’s our daughter’s home and her family of origin. It sounds cliche – but now, our home really is where my heart is. This is an Open Hearted Home where the expectations are to be, to share, to listen and to love. I’m here to be. I’m here to share and to listen. I’m here to Love.

GROW, LIVEMarkus Comments
A Sabbatical
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Post Written by Lilly

Well hello.

It’s been a minute since I’ve had a reason or moment to sit down and write like this. It feels like I’m finally getting to catch up with some old friends! And yeah, I’m putting it out there that this time around the ol’ blogging block I hope to meet some new faces as well.

Where to begin?

The highlights: January 2016 I found out my life as I knew it and had meticulously designed it wasn’t working anymore. June 2018 I realized the career track I had exhausted myself and my family to get a seat on didn’t appear to love me back. And there’s nothing I hate like unrequited love.

That left me waking up in my sister’s guest room, two weeks after abruptly leaving my job, on a quick visit to her place. The adrenaline of instinctual, rapid fire change was wearing off. I was very fresh into a life of the great unknown and for the first time wondered, “What the f*ck am I going to do?”

Doing life in the way I had previously been attempting it was not an option. But neither was doing nothing.

I had spent the first decade of career and child-bearing years scatter shooting, going into every open door with full force and emotional attachment. I had a wonderful database of memories that could clearly point to what I didn’t want to do again. So that certainly helped.

My pivots in young adult life had been sharp and fast and historically not landed me in places where I felt both feet on the ground and at home. The new plan was to move more slowly and intentionally, explore more for the sake of exploring and less for the need to feel a part of anything bigger than me. Me finding and being me right now was enough.

So back to the guest room, staring at the ceiling. An answer came like two deep gong chimes.

CREATIVITY. AUTHENTICITY.

Like a bad Christmas Carol remake, the message left just as quickly as it came my way. I wanted to chase it out the window to make sure it didn’t forget to leave the rest of my instructions (an ironic thought for me because, when do I ever bother to read the instructions anyways?).

I had no instructions, but I had two north stars. The voice was right. My creativity and authenticity were my favorite things about myself. I thrive when they are recognized and encouraged. More than that, I realized in environments where they felt unwelcome I felt the same. I light up when someone feels more empowered to be their most fearless, weirdest, badass self when they were around me. I may be new to gong chime messages and striking out on my own, but this clicked.

That morning now feels like five minutes and a lifetime ago. I’ve flowed through some interesting projects and transitions - developing and chairing a non-profit fundraiser, starting a part-time job in an incredibly creative field and moving to a new home! Adventures have come my way by asking the world to bring me into a life that is more creative and authentic. I’ve known what is and isn’t for me by asking myself if it’s an opportunity where I will learn how to be more creative and authentic and/or be able to encourage those around me on the same path. All along the way, I’ve tried not to respond to moments or opportunities put in front of me like this was “it.” I was on sabbatical: exploring, retreating, playing. I had a feeling one day all of these experiences would click to what I was meant to do, but for now I was meant to do them in a way that was recreational.

Over this time, the primary place I’ve tried to practice my creativity and authenticity is with my family in our home. Routines, conversations, systems and even decor have all been overturned to test the status quo and ask ourselves if we’re living the way we are meant to, not how we think we should based on those around us or stories we’ve been told about finding success in its traditional definition.

As tempting as it was to have a perfect elevator speech of who I was and what I did, I stayed open and trusted myself that one day all of these seemingly casual and sometimes unproductive experiences would come together into a larger, neater plan of what I should *actually* do with my life. But the main thing I’ve come to know is, this exploration is what I’m good at. I love exploring with an open mind and sharing with an open heart. And the journey, the exploration and the sharing might be the actual plan.

With a new home to turn into our oasis and incubator for the creative and authentic family we aspire to be, new tools we’ve found for our paths and an eagerness to continue to find new ideas, it feels like the right time to open up about our story and invite you to come by here now and then to see what we’re up to!

Welcome to our home sweet home here on the Internet. An online studio where we work through our adventures, findings and feelings. The door is always open and we aim to keep our hearts and minds open here too - sharing our lives without shame in hopes we can make the world a better place with an eagerness to listen and learn from you all as well. We aim to always be ourselves here. Come by and be your fullest, realest most amazing self here too!

GROWLillyComment