Less is More.

The less I watch T.V., the more I read, write, think, create

and do. 

The less takeout I eat, the more I enjoy cooking, eating and

being healthy. 

The less I spend, the more I save. Time, energy, worry, money

and future. 

The less negative tweets and statuses I read or write,

the more positive engagement I consume and share. 

The less I sleep in, the more I get done in a given day. 

The less I dwell and fret, the more grateful and motivated I feel. 

The less I freak, the more I pray. 

The less I scurry, the more I achieve. 

The less I schedule, the more present I am. 

The less I argue, the more I understand. 

The less of me, the more of You. 

I'm just trying to make space. 

Do What Gives You Peace : Write.

I was in the midst of an enthusiastic email today when I realized how rarely I speak to myself in such a way. A very very kind colleague of mine recommended me for a new writing opportunity and as I wrote my email submission, I was saying,

Writing is my life passion, it's what I live for! 

when I stopped and thought to myself,

If that's true, then why am I constantly constraining myself whenever I feel the urge to write? 

The urge comes so often and so naturally that my first instinct is to sift through the thought and pick it apart rather than immediately writing it down. I self-edit before the words even reach the page. If my brain were visible by computer screen, the cursor would move back and forth so fast that hardly a sentence or idea would ever reach completion on most days. 

I continued writing the email and submitted it, but the frustration with myself stuck with me. Add it to the list - there is a lot in my life to be frustrated about at the moment. Finances. Family. My grossly unkempt apartment with week old dirty dishes and laundry that's clean but unfolded and receipts scattered everywhere. Time feels like a farce when it runs faster than your mind can keep up with.

This is the drama that is my life. In the midst of everything that is truly sad and scary and strange that I cannot control, I allow the one thing I have going for me, my true passion, to be to an insecurity, something to fear. And because it has the vast potential to transform my life and I know it, I allow my dream to become entangled with all that I am terrified to hold fast to, and also to let go of.

When I let myself do it, it gives voice to unspeakable peace. Yes, it is a paradox. The things I cannot say, the feelings that I live with and the fears and worries and also the irrepressible, naive, cock-eyed hope and faith that I carry with me can be uncovered and unpacked and analyzed and laid to rest, maybe even with the chance that it will grow and flourish into something new, if I only let it.

In the midst of my frustration, I read a post by one of my favorite writers, Shauna Niequist, this morning about her process of learning through writing. She's on her third book now, and she says,

"Once again today, I’m reminded that writing is more about learning than telling, more about discovering than reporting, more about revealing than pronouncing. I’m showing up today for the first time in a long time, humble before the page, or the laptop as it were, ready to learn, ready to discover."

I self-edit because I think I have to have it figured out before I say it. In some cases, that habit works to my advantage, but in writing it squelches my creativity and exposes my self-consciousness.

If the only constant in life is that we are all learning to live, then as I write about living, I am in a process of learning. And I can be at peace with that.

Thanks for reminding me through your reminder, Shauna. 

Apocalypse Now, Baby.

Not really. Well, maybe.

Actually, let me just say,

1. I do believe a rapture and apocalypse will occur as it is written in Scripture.

2. I do believe in Jesus and believe that He came to give life in all its fullness, and that people who reject His love will be left behind in the event that He does return to earth.

But is He coming tomorrow, as fringe "believers" have predicted? Most likely not. God doesn't really adhere to human schedules or man-made mathematical schemes imposed on Scripture to calculate Jesus' return. And even if He did, would we be left behind simply because we disagreed on the day and the hour? No.

Even so, I find it fascinating to listen to radio hosts discuss what they would do with their last days on earth, and read about friends on Facebook planning a rapture party, and seeing tweets about what people would do if the world were to end tomorrow. What would we do if we knew the end was coming?

All week I've been meaning to write a post for you folks, but the words have been halting, at times snarky and depressed, and other times the words have flown freely into a form that I love, but that I think might best be reserved for a time when they aren't so stinging and sad. Have you ever struggled with that, friends? You write down a good story - a true story - and then realize that if anyone reads it, no matter how well written, it could cause more pain than it's worth?

I realize that many writers don't trouble themselves with this. After all, it's the truth. But deep within me, the part of me that is more than a writer, but a daughter, a sister, a granddaughter, a niece, a wife, a friend, knows that it does indeed matter. Some subjects are better left alone. Or perhaps they are better saved for another space and time, like a novel that critics and historians may suspect to be partially auto-biographical, but the writer has no comment on the matter, or maybe left behind in a journal that the writer hopes no one will ever do the dishonor of reading, even in death.

Maybe I should invest in invisible ink.

I could just leave those thoughts in my head, but they take up a lot of room.

I am often caught up in what I should be saying, but I think that it's also important and all too often overlooked to decide what should be left unsaid. I've reached the end of this week, having left the pieces I wrote unpublished. And let me tell you, as hard as it was to decide to leave it alone, I'm thankful I did. I've left tomorrow unencumbered by an irreversible choice.

And so, the only thing I have left to say at the end of a long week and the day before what probably isn't the end of the world, is live your life with intention. 

I have this terrible habit of skipping to the end of my books and reading the last pages. It's a control issue and my shrink and I are working through it.... :)

Really, though. It's incredibly frustrating that I can't live life that way. Just a sneak peak would be really helpful when I have absolutely no sense of how to handle life. But since I can't I am learning that to live with the not knowing, to be at peace with the yet unportrayed ending, means that I am forced to live within the moment I'm given. I have to choose my words and actions with intention.

No one knows how and when and where their life is going to end - we each comprehend this in our own sense. Maybe your parent has a terminal illness or your best friend died in an accident or you just lost your grandparent or you're fighting for your own life. In any case, take time to enjoy this moment, when you're here and capable of intentionally loving and living your life.

Have a good weekend, friends. 

Dream, Quote, Move: Create.

I recently had a dream that I am still mulling over.

In the dream I was driving down a street in my hometown when I saw an author that I really respect passing out flyers and advertisements about his new book. I was so excited that I slowed down and called out to him. He recognized me, greeted me by name and then invited me to meet him at a conference he was speaking at later that same day at the high school I attended. When I arrived at the school, I searched but could not find him. Frantic that I was supposed to meet him but was late and lost, I continued searching but the more I looked and dashed down hallways and opened office doors into broom closets, the less I recognized my surroundings and the more lost I became. Gradually, I could not remember why I had wanted to meet him so badly, what we would have talked about, and then - who was I looking for? Where am I? What was I doing before? I woke up sincerely confused - what was that about?

I can make a lot of projections about that dream. Maybe in my search to speak with an author I regard so highly, who so often speaks to my own fears and insecurities and hopes and beliefs, who leads the kind of life and professional success I desire for myself, I confused my envy for his career with respect for his writing. Maybe, in some sense, I am doing this in my waking life and God was trying to reveal how fruitless it is to pursue someone else's success rather than being satisfied with the simple act of practicing my passion. I can already write. I love the act of writing, and I love to read, and people enjoy reading my writing. What else do I need that I don't already have, and could that author have given it to me?

Or maybe as a friend suggested, the author represents the writer in me, the part of me that writes for writing's sake and does it well and is self-assured in it, and I somehow feel that I have lost her and am desperate to reconnect with her.

Or maybe, like my husband says, the dream is a lesson in not reading too much right before bed. But like I've mentioned before, my dreams often reveal important things about my life and have a lot to do with my writing.

Either way, the dream has lingered with me for several days, begging the question:

Am I pursuing success, or am I pursuing my art?

I often get self conscious about my blog. It's a blog about the process of creativity and writing, but how often am I posting my writing versus posting my thoughts on writing? There is art, and then there is talking about art. Like this post, for instance.

I started to write a different post today, but as I reflected on this quote I stumbled across early on Monday, my thoughts took on a new form:

"If you have a rhythm, if you get up every morning and work for a few hours, and you like the getting up and the work, and you don’t think about how great it will be when it’s done, but rather how great it is every day that you get to get up and do the work, your creation will be tremendous. Don’t think about the finished product. Stop rewarding yourself with something that doesn’t exist, and may never exist. Instead, think about how delightful it is you get to do this, you get to make this, and how delightful it will be to get up and do it again tomorrow." -Don Miller

An interesting connection of seemingly unrelated dots, I think.

I've written four poems just since reading it, but why? That's more poetry than I've written in three years, easily. It could be any number of things. Maybe it was the simple act of enjoying the form and the act of writing rather than pursuing some imaginary success and "reward that may never come" as Miller put it.

I still struggle with the idea of submitting or posting my work. I can stand on both sides of it and make cases against whether or not to expose my work to anyone. If I do, I could get rejected. If I don't, what's the joy and purpose of doing it at all?

Miller addresses this question, too:

"Most of the things we worry about as creators never happen. We are not as rejected as we think we are; in fact, our creation has given us a greater community, even if we do have a few critics. And we did not fail as badly as we thought we would; and if we did fail, people hardly noticed. Most of the fears we entertain as creators have to do with hypothetical situations, things that could happen. But this is a waste of valuable creative energy. Most likely, things we think will happen won’t. A creator takes risks, a consumer lives in safety. Are you a creator or consumer?"

I know the answer to that question: I want to contribute. I want to create. But sometimes it feels easier, safer, to link to someone else rather than say it myself. It is sometimes easier to talk about doing it, rather than actually doing it. Because writing is an act of vulnerability. It is an act in voicing thoughts and allowing people to study, scrutinize, reject or partake in who I am and what I believe. I'm good at gathering and collecting inspiration, bad at making that brave, vulnerable movement into the next step: creating.

In the spirit of making the move, tomorrow I'll post one of my poems that I wrote this week. So what move are you struggling to make this week, friends? Take the leap with me.

[Photo.]

Whirlwind Work Week

In the midst of perhaps the busiest work week of my life, I got worried that my little blog was growing stale without a new post. What a sweet surprise to return to it today and see your overwhelmingly supportive comments - and most of them from readers I’ve never met! (I get a little thrill from finding new friends on here.) A little time away is good for blogging, apparently. Thanks for your supportive words and for sharing your thoughts. It’s great to know I have so many kindred spirits out there.

This week was an exercise in proving myself capable. Most days my work is the same series of tasks:  write and post a press release or two, monitor social media stats, direct inquiries, write content for our publication or website, email intermittently. On Wednesday my organization held an inaugural event that featured a former U.S. president as the keynote speaker. Exciting, right?

In the days leading up to it I was terrified. Working for Communications means that I’m responsible for helping with public relations and marketing efforts. It’s a big responsibility when you’re trying to attract more than 1,300 attendees. Among my responsibilities were proofreading print ads and brochures and programs, preparing press releases and story pitches, coordinating interviews with business leaders, dignitaries, faculty, staff and students, preparing questions for the interviews, conducting the interviews, collecting quotes from the keynote address and moderated question and answer sessions, promoting the event through social media, and doing any other task my boss requested of me.

I was worried that things wouldn’t get done. I was worried that I’d forget to communicate with people on changes made or that I’d miss glaring errors in our press pieces or that I’d say the wrong thing to our media contacts or that I wouldn’t be able to read my handwriting well enough to quote people accurately.

Well, there were things I didn’t finish. And of course there were changes made even in the midst of the event. There were a few missed interviews and yes, I really couldn’t read half of my handwritten notes past the third page.

But. We made it. It’s over. I’ve caught up on sleep and more importantly, we accomplished all of our primary goals though this opportunity and even discovered some surprising results along the way.

Driving home on Thursday I felt a sudden urge to weep. I can’t imagine what it’s like to hold a position where you handle these things on a regular basis, but for my first time participating in a project of such magnitude I feel like I’ve come out on the other side of this with a deep sense of gratitude and relief and surreality.

Did I really just do that?

And also this thought,

Let’s do it again!

As exhausted as I’ve been this week - physically, mentally, emotionally - I feel totally exhilarated. I’ve always been attracted to journalism, but this experience gave me a glimpse of what it would be like to dive into it and commit to it fully.

I love asking questions and hearing people communicate value. I love listening to leaders, entrepreneurs, and creative people talk about what makes them tick, the principles that inspire them in their roles, the concepts that move them to lead. It’s a powerful thing to hear leaders speak candidly about their mistakes and failures and lessons they learned through them, as well as the moments that affirmed their potential. In a room of more than 1,300 people, I felt the energy rise as the audience caught a glimpse of the surprising challenges and rewards of leadership.

In a strange and unexpected way, this experience was an affirmation of what I discussed in my last blog post. This side of it, how could I settle for anything less than what I am passionate about?

Every person has been given a passion for something. It could be writing and journalism, it could be culinary arts, it could be design, architecture, gender studies, teaching, music, theater, ministry. Whatever it is, we’re called to pursue to it. When we’re in the moment, it doesn’t matter how exhausted we are. The exhilaration of doing what we love and doing it well will tell us what we need to know:

This is what you’re meant to do.  

The Dream Job : Going the Distance

It's never good when you get a text from your best friend that says,

"I don't know if I feel like going out tonight. I'm all weepy and crabby today."

Knowing her, I realize I have two choices:

1. Take her word for it, because when she says she's in a bad mood she means it. No use arguing with her; things will only get worse.

2. Test the waters. Feel her out. Maybe what's bothering her is worth confronting, debunking, even comforting.

I bit the bullet and chose option two. 

"What's wrong, love?" 

"Oh, probably the weather and I started freaking out about school earlier." 

She has decided to quit her full time job working as a customer service representative for a hearing aid manufacturer [what joy] to go to culinary school. The risks are real - she's taking on school loans, she's going to try and juggle school work and a part time job to support herself,  not to mention that she's quitting a full time job when more than 8 percent of the country can't even find a part time job. She has every reason to be terrified. 

And yet. I've seen her in a slump, exhausted of repeating the same conversation with customers more than 100 times each day. Personally, I'd rather see her bustling around a bakery, whipping up delectable pastries we can devour, even if we gain 100 extra pounds in the process. Hey, since we're talking sacrifices, right?

But it's a toss up, a whole lot of "I don't want to do this part" no matter which path she takes. She doesn't want to work the job she has forever, but she doesn't want to take on debt, risk her financial well-being and her stamina to make it through school.

"What if I fail?" she asked in the car on our way to see my husband play on Friday. Thankfully, she had changed her mind and decided not to wallow in worry over something that's months away. 

"I'm sorry, what? You? Fail school?" I asked.

"Yeah! What if I get so frazzled trying to support myself and get through classes that I flunk out?"

A silly question, in my opinion. She, of all people I know, is least likely to fail.

But as I've spent the last several months fiddling with blog ideas and freelance work, I've asked mself the same question about nearly everything.

Grad school: what if I flunk out? So I decide to wait until life "settles down" a little bit. [I have no idea what that means, either.]

Freelancing: I'm not a business person - what if I can't handle the responsibility?

Blogging: what if they don't like what I wrote? What if no one cares about this but me?

I've come to the realization that with any dream job or career path we chose, we have to keep in mind the journey and not just the destination. We have to be willing to ask, how will I get there? And we have to be willing to go the distance.

Freelancing and blogging require a lot of capabilities that I wish I didn't have to think about. I've had to work on a business plan for my freelance work. Did anyone else know that this requires math?! Even with a calculator and guidance from other freelancers I know, my brain hurts. It's excruciatingly painful to admit that my teachers were right [although I have yet to use algebra, mwahaha.]

I've also had to learn HTML coding. Don't get me wrong, I only know a handful of code thingys [is "code phrases" the proper term?] but still, who knew that ugly series of letters and symbols actually did things, and that if you can't figure it out things might disappear?!

And apparently "not being a morning person" is not conducive to productivity. If I could change my biological make up, I would, but for now I'm just trying to find some sort realistic incentive that will convince me that God created 6 a.m. for anything other than sleep.

I can't tell my best friend not to look at the big scary numbers or not to think about how she's going to be able to support herself on a part-time job while she's getting her degree. I can't be a successful freelancer and blogger without coming up with a business plan and crunching my own numbers. I can't even tell her where she'll be at the end of it; she'll have a degree, but will that mean she'll find a job right away?

And will I want to be a freelancer forever?

I mean, aren't I a little young to be thinking about being my own boss?

And think about all the taxes and invoices I'll have to keep track of if I'm going to do this! 

And is this blog going to be a part of my writing career for the next 30, 40, 50 or more years?

There's so much responsibility involved, and how will we know for sure that the destination is worth the journey it takes to get there?

We don't have the answers. I don't think we're meant to. But if we're too scared to even ask the question, to pursue the "what if I try this?" then we are choosing to live in the void, the unknown of what could have been.

So here are a few inspirations from around the web to keep you motivated : 

I'm officially a Midnight Hustler, are you?

Part of pursuing our dreams requires being selfish.

Writing as an expression of life. I need to read Natalie's book (and Melissa's blog!) more often.

The Literary Ladies' Guide to the Writing Life. A great article and a book I need to get my hands on.

Better Mistakes Tomorrow.

This is my new philosophy:

I am not perfect. Far from it, in fact, and it's really been bothering me. I annoy myself, quite often.

It doesn't help that I have this theory that writers, more than most people (except for maybe designers and politicians) are thrown over the coals for mistakes we make. Why? Because our mistakes are out there in black and white.

It's rather crippling when you think about it. And I think about it a lot.

Like, for example, when I'm about to send a mass email to 2,000+ people, or share a Facebook status, or publish an article on a website, or post on my blog... the possibilities are frightening. I scan every word, phrase and punctuation mark to see if I've done it right.

... And then, let the palm-to-forehead moment commence!

Or not.

Either way, I'm terrified that I've screwed everything up.

This is my excuse for the notebooks full of ideas that have never been explored, the plethora of blog drafts that have never been published, the unwritten articles that float around in my head: It's scary.

Trust me. I'm notorious as the picky, stuck-up writer that's constantly correcting others' spelling, grammar, punctuation and pronunciation flubs.

The truth is, I spend a lot of time worrying that someone else is judging me just as harshly. It happens! And when it does it stings, like a band aid has been ripped off and all my insides are exposed. My flaws, raw and real for everyone to see. A classic case of the pot vs. the kettle.

Jon's first post on his new site reminded me today, though, that a plethora of unwritten articles, a notebook full of unexplored ideas and a blog full of unpublished drafts mean nothing. They don't help anyone, least of all myself. Of course, as a writer I believe in avoiding posting the first draft of anything. But the real problem comes when I never post anything.

My old philosophy: if you can't write it "right," then don't write it at all. But that's not what this blog is about, nor is it an effective philosophy for a writer.

The true process is always the same:

1. Write.

2. Then right.

3. Repeat until you come to the best combination of fresh words and edits.

4. Publish.

5. Give gratitude (or apologize) when appropriate.

So, my new philosophy is about accepting my mistakes, swallowing my pride, and doing my best. And if I fail, at least I have a lesson to learn from.

Strive for excellence, not perfection. Perfection doesn't exist. Perfection is that nasty, cynical voice in your head, criticizing everyone around you and at the same time, telling you:

"If you try it, you could fail and that's worse than if you never did it at all."

In truth, perfection is envious of the freedom and confidence that others exhibit when they accept themselves as they are.

Maybe that's why God made me a writer: it continues to teach me about grace. Our flaws are part of who we are, but they're not the only part. The flaws don't outweigh the gifts, and the passion that we possess to fulfill our purpose in life.

So here's to tomorrow, to better mistakes next time, and the grace to write about it anyway.

[Image.]

Death to the Black Box

My husband and I moved into our new apartment in July and since then we haven't had TV. We own two TVs, but we don't have cable. Not even basic channels. Not even NBC or ABC or the local channel that's usually a super old power-point slideshow with odd instrumental music on loop.

I know, I know. How have we survived?! It's downright unamerican.

We're not hippies. We're not ultra-conservative fundamentalists who have denounced pop culture.

We're just poor. Every paycheck gets dolled out to rent, utilities, car insurance and school loans and with whatever is left, we think to ourselves : we could get a digital converter box this month.... but we'd rather buy a few extra groceries or go on a date.

At first I felt like our apartment was much too quiet. I watched a lot of Gilmore Girls on DVD.

And then I started reading books I haven't read in awhile. And then I started writing in my journal. And sketching and making decorations for our apartment. And painting. And organizing all my shoes and art supplies.

My husband and I still rent movies at least once a week and watch them together.

When I'm home alone now, I don't get the feeling anymore that the big black box is going to swallow me unless I turn it on. My brain isn't rotting away in front of the propaganda machine anymore. I don't come to consciousness several hours later, sprawled on the couch, asking myself, Wait - What did I do today? Oh yeah ... nothing. ... except eat 3 bowls of cereal and day old pizza.

I've tested this theory, and I'm pretty sure I'm right. If there is a TV in the room with a cable connection, it is inevitably on. Having the TV off in my living room growing up was pure torture. I would try to concentrate on my book or drawing, but I was distracted by the almost audible voice telling me,

"Look at me. I'm empty and sad. You're empty and sad, too. Turn me on. Let's be friends."

On goes the TV, and my productivity - no, my brain activity - plummets.

Without cable to tempt me, the TV isn't this ominous black void to fill. Yes, it's quiet. I turn on music sometimes or NPR. Yes, sometimes I give in and watch a movie. But a movie is an investment. I have to be willing to sit and watch the movie for at least an hour and a half, and if I'm not, then what should I be doing? It's a good test: Watch a movie I've seen before OR make myself useful.

We trick ourselves into believing that TV is just a filler, just something to bide our time until we have an appointment or plans to hang out with a friend. False. It's a productivity killer. Imagine what we could do with all the time we've spent watching prime time TV. I could learn a new recipe, write more than one blog post, read that novel I bought but doubt I'll finish, or organize something. That's not busy work. That's actively participating in my life.

The only time I'll ever miss TV is probably on Christmas day when TNT does the 24 hours of A Christmas Story. Yes, I love it that much. But! It's a movie so maybe it's time to actually purchase it? That way, we'll only watch it once and spend more time talking with the family we traveled 250 miles to see on the best day of the year.

Bottom line is: I've found other things to do with my time. So is it okay that I don't ever want to get cable?

What about you? Could you survive without TV or are you afraid you'll be bored out of your mind?

How To Be Alone

A friend shared this video on Facebook today and I am in love with it. [Make time for you.]

A Writer's Weekend.

Once again, my Twitter friend Friederike has been the exact dose of support and inspiration I needed following my last post. A non-Facebooker, she has some great insight to contribute, so make sure you read it. Friederike, I am learning so much from you!

[Photo taken from another Twitter friend, Wakako, on her ultra-inspiring blog, Baum-Kuchen.]

On a related note, my weekend was good. Saturday, which I have dubbed my creative workspace/time, was somewhat productive although not as much as I had hoped. I made a few decisions, though.

1. My weekends will now be free of social media as much as I can help it. I won't Facebook, Tweet, or email on Saturday or Sunday. The reason being that I have realized how much more positive and creative I am when I leave it alone for a couple of days. So if you need me, truly need me, then you have my cell phone number and you can call or text me. [Translation: if you don't already have my cell phone number, then you don't need me.]

2. Every Saturday morning will be dedicated solely to the act of sleeping in, getting up and eating breakfast on my porch, and writing or art-ing. Just me, myself, and God. ;)

3. Celebration with friends and family is important to me. So my Saturday morning wasn't the most productive, but my Saturday night was a blast with all the friends that came out to support my husband and his band. It made me realize how important interacting with my loved ones is to my creative endeavors.

Where once I thought that scheduling in time to be creative was unnecessary (maybe even contradictory), I now find that it's fundamentally important to being consistent and committed to my art. Surprisingly, it has satisfied a deep need I have to reconnect with myself. I feel like I've said this before, but I'll say it again: making time for our own creativity is one of the healthiest things we can do for ourselves.

In fact, I have a theory. My theory is that the more consistently we make time for our art and our selves, the moments when we feel drained and tired and tapped out and frustrated and angry because of work or drama will seem less hopeless. We know it's there waiting, we just have to remove ourselves from distractions and allow it to restore our faith and our confidence.

This weekend I am going home to see family and celebrate Labor Day on the lake. There will Bocce-ball tournaments, hours and hours in the sun and under the stars, planning my cousin's wedding, and eating lots and lots and lots and LOTS of food, and a few quiet moments to write. That's what I call Pure Michigan. [And Pure Joy.]

Margin and Meditation.

I set this picture as my desktop today:

This will come as no shock to you, but I've been dwelling on this one thought for the past several days: Americans do not understand margin. We do not make time for time. We may think ourselves disciplined when it comes to prioritizing work, school, family, and finances.

We're not.

In fact, several studies have shown that while Americans are making less time for vacation and more time for work, the rest of the world is working and playing and moving forward at a steady pace. Meanwhile, we're running ourselves into the ground.

This is not a plea to my employers to let me have a couple weeks off. This is just an observation, made more pertinent by the fact that I'm getting nostalgic for my Euro-trip in '08. I long for that time when time was all I had to think and reflect and let go.

Also, I was struck by the realization of how Christians in particular view meditation. While we knock other religions for the beliefs they are founded on, we give no regard to the fact that many other religions are much more disciplined and devoted to the act of meditation, or a time set aside for prayer and reflection. We're encouraged to pray on the go, while we go about our work day or running errands or standing in line at Starbucks. Is that true devotion, though? Is that making your meditation the sole priority and focus of your consciousness at that moment?

Meditation - to think, to ponder, to consider, to deliberate, to reflect.

Margin - leeway, latitude, room, room to maneuver, space, allowance, extra, surplus.

Meditation and margin - two things we don't understand and therefore don't do.

I have a lot on my plate with work and projects and home. Before I let this blog and my life become one big rush towards "making it" in a career, I need to stop and take a moment. I'm past the point in my life where my time is my own and I can wander to my heart's content. But. We become less and less effective the more we accumulate on our to-do list. Getting caught up in the rat-race won't make us successful.

I put this picture on my desktop this morning in part because of my nostalgia for my favorite place on earth (Salzburg, Austria) and in part as a reminder to give myself margin and meditation. I need to give myself that leeway, that allowance of time to reflect and consider my life and the world around me.

This is a reminder for you, dear readers, to take what moments we can each day and walk and wander and reflect and pray. You'll be surprised to see what blessings God lays at your feet when you do it.

A Time for the Bittersweet.

It's been a few days since my last post, mostly because the last two days of work brought me twice as many emails as I've been getting in the last two weeks! But I wanted to take a minute to lasso my thoughts into something tangible, and to get some feedback.

Last night, I finally sat down with two of my very dear friends for the first time in several weeks. We ate dinner, talked, prayed, shared news, and laughed about many things. And then I saw it. Laying on the ottoman next to my feet was Mackenzie's fresh copy of Bittersweet, the newest book by one of our favorite authors, Shauna Niequist. I wound up reading aloud a chapter called "Twenty-five."

The chapter is at once a call to action, a letter to Shauna's twenty-five-year-old self, and a prayer for twenty-somethings everywhere who are desperate to figure out who they are and what they want.

"Now is the time," Shauna says again and again. Now is the time before families, before mortgages, before iron-clad schedules, before "job security" that keeps us from reaching for what it is that we're actually passionate about. Before it gets that far, ask yourself what you want and make sure you do it.

Could there have been a better time for the 3 of us to read this? Now IS the time. So we talked. We talked about what we want and what we know we're good at it and what we're doing now to try and make it happen. No solid conclusions, but I am finding more and more that in this period of time where change is the only constant, we should stop being afraid of change and start using it to our advantage.

And this is the very core of Shauna's book: change itself is bittersweet, but it makes our lives so surprisingly, unexpectedly, and beautifully rich. Like coffee. Like chocolate. Like a good Merlot. Like a deliciously well-written chapter in a book.

What I like about chapter "Twenty-five" is how Shauna examines our tendency to cling to familiarity, to circumstances that keep us from reaching our full potential because we are afraid of change.

Any life-changing moment, any epiphany we have doesn't come when we're walking on cloud nine. It doesn't come from being in our comfort zone. It comes when we've just discovered that what we thought was "good enough" isn't good for us, and so we have to try something different in order to find that thing we "can't live without."

I'm not sure that life is about finding ways to make yourself "happy." Can any of us define what that is? There is no remedy, no choice that can ensure that elusive thing that is often only there to make us dissatisfied with what we've already been blessed with.

"Happiness" only satisfies one facet of our appetites, and eventually we realize it isn't enough to make us whole. And then we realize, we don't like the person we're becoming. What we really need is balance. We need boldness and courage.

Bittersweet is a way of life, one that's more real and true and one that allows us to make decisions with the wisdom that the bitter and the sweet, the good and the bad, are intertwined and equally necessary to becoming selves that we are proud of.

We may hate that we don't have everything figured out right now. We may wish that we had peace of mind, the feeling of being secure, settled. But peace never comes at the cost of settling.

Instead of grabbing desperately for the time when we're so sure we're going to "have everything figured out," let's take our twenty-something years and live them like we know they should be: the years that we will look back on as some of the most poignant, the most teaching, the most changing, the most triumphant, the most bittersweet.

What Am I Doing Here?

Last night my best friend and I sat down for our usual movie & wine night. Our flick for the evening: "Definitely Maybe." I will never get sick of that movie. It's full of wit, charm, and kernels of truth found in unexpected moments. I can identify with Ryan Reynold's character, especially in the early stages of the film when he's the toilet paper gopher for his job. I'll admit I'm a notch up from that, but the moments when he becomes completely frustrated and shouts in the middle of the office: "WHAT AM I DOING HERE?" is something I have felt like doing on more than one occasion.

It got me thinking. This isn't my question alone; it's everyone's question. At this moment in time, I think it's something my peers are weighted down with especially. With our economy in the crap-hole and an enormous amount of debt to deal with after gaining that top-notch education that was supposed to catapult us into our ideal jobs, we're starting to look for our own "bootstraps" to pull ourselves out of the mess. We're realizing we have to get creative and we have to be relentless and we have to fight harder than we ever thought.

In my previous posts, I've been writing about how weighted down I feel with the desperate desire to make the right choices and avoid mistakes at all costs. And when I'm not writing here, I am wondering what I should be writing about and what I will do that will make a difference.

As Mario so aptly put it in his comment on "The Market of Decision-Making" post, we can't allow ourselves to be frozen, to be victims of "paralysis by analysis."

I have writer friends, designer friends, architecture friends, psychology friends, musician friends, photographer friends. I have friends that are in the fields of marketing, business, information technology. I have friends that are involved in ministry and social justice. And we're all searching for our purpose, our path to making our life and our work a positive influence in this world.

So I think that my goal with this blog, aside from building a compendium of my writing and personal experiences, is to share and contribute to the collective experience of learning what it takes to make it for my generation.

My new assignment: once each week I will post about someone else's blog, website, or business for you to follow and enjoy. I may write a short post with a link, or I will allow them to do a guest post.

One of our "bootstraps" is networking. Blogging and other social media are making it easier to cultivate good business connections, partnerships, and support systems. I want to support people who are trying to make it happen for themselves. We could all use a hand. So let's network. Let's support. Let's figure out what we're doing here.

[If you'd like to submit a guest post, please email me at : shewritesandrights@gmail.com]