Looking back at 2014

Page 365 of  365

I was online yesterday, perusing my usual social media sites, and I kept seeing December 31 compared to the last page of a book. I think this is an apropos metaphor - a year's end is like a chapter, or a whole book, coming to a close. For me, 2014 had tremendous ups and downs, and I am thankful for the experiences it brought me, but also thankful that it is done.

In 2014, I...

• Became obsessed with the show "The Wire" (WATCH IT)
• Survived the polar vortex
• Came into my identity as a feminist
• Was a cluster facilitator for IU's LeaderShape retreat and it kind of changed my life
• Got to see the incomparable Meryl Streep and Kevin Kline speak about their careers
• Visited the mountains of North Carolina (and the Biltmore Estate... is that for sale?)
• Attended my first Gamma Phi Beta convention, and fell in love with my sisterhood all over again
• Played co-rec kickball (Sidekicks, are we ready for the coming season??)
• Got addicted to the "Kim Kardashian: Hollywood" game (which I am proud to say I deleted... a week ago)
• Celebrated two years of work at IU Bloomington
• Began advising my Gamma Phi Beta chapter at IU
• Worked as a part of a terrific conference planning team for the inaugural Region VI ACUI conference in Blacksburg, VA

While those are a lot of positive achievements and milestones, I also made a lot of mistakes in 2014, both small and large, at work and personally. I was denied from 2 program proposals at two different national conferences. I struggled with my health and body image. I struggled with events all over the country, those close to my heart and those in which I learned to listen to others' needs as more pressing than my own need to understand (others' struggles with mental illness, what has happened in Ferguson, and so much more). Life always has its ups and downs, of course, but for some reason, 2014 kicked my butt a little more than most years have. 

For the past few years, I have selected one word to guide my goals and resolutions throughout the year. This One Word Movement has had varying success for me throughout the past couple of years - 2012 went GREAT, 2013 not so much - so I did the same for 2014. My One Word for 2014 was "simplicity." For a while at the beginning of the year, the world was incredibly helpful for me to parse through all of the clutter in my life to discern what was important. After a time, though, I found myself getting lost in the proverbial weeds, not seeing the forest for all the trees around me. The little tidbits of my life began to bog me down, and instead of focusing on my mantra of "simplicity," I let myself be distracted and feel downtrodden. I let the things that are really important slip away from my focus, and got mired in the tough day to day living that really can get to you after a while. At the end of 2014, I found myself exhausted, burned out, and confused as to what happened to my beautiful plan of "simplicity" in 2014. The year felt anything but simple!

Upon further reflection, as I've had some time to step away and breathe over this break, I think my mistake was in my attitude. When I had successes, I took them for granted; when I failed, I beat myself up and dwelt on the mistake for longer than I should have. I didn't "live in the moment" like I promised myself I would at the beginning of the year; I was not okay when things didn't go perfectly as I wanted to be. I made the idea of "simple" complicated.

To be fair, I set a lot of lofty goals for myself, and didn't set any plans for how to achieve those goals. I definitely made some progress over the year - I replenished my savings account from lots of traveling; I ran a couple of races and really enjoyed myself (and found myself a running buddy on campus!); I took vacation and did NOT check email; I did some good for myself! But there was so much more I wanted out of the year, and I psyched myself out of those successes. 

I say this not to self-flagellate about mistakes made in the past; I bring these instances up as examples to learn from and so that I can keep growing and understanding and becoming more of the woman I want to be in 2015. I need a change in attitude, because I can see that my current focus isn't working the best it could be. I need a healthy mind and body, to tackle each day as it comes. And I need to love myself (and others) more, to cut myself (and others) more of a break with grace and the understanding that no one is perfect. Guilt and frustration stand in my way, and my "shoulding" (thanks to Mallory Bower for that term!) has got to go. Instead of thinking I can do it all and then feeling angry and guilty when I can't, I want to trust that there's Someone who's taking care of me more than I can know, and sustaining me with strength. Instead of putting frustration out into the world, I want to put out grace, love, and understanding. I want my life to bless others; I want my words to heal and not wound. I want to live each day with an attitude of thankfulness - thankfulness that I get to live this beautiful, crazy, wonderful, sometimes frustrating but ultimately incredible life.

So after all, I guess I got some "simplicity" out of 2014. Because what could be simpler than the idea of gratitude? 

Down in the Valley

Life has natural peaks and valleys.

You'd think at 26, I would have realized and come to terms with this fact by now. It just seems to be the natural order of things - what goes up must come down, etc. For every high there is a low; for every low, there is a high. The moon shines brightly at its fullest, then disappears as a new moon. The tide comes in, it goes out. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. You get the drift.

So the rational mind can accept the existence of these valleys. And yet, when you're in the midst of a valley (in the doldrums, so to speak); when you look around you and all you see is dim; when there seems no way out of the low; when there are all these outrageous mountainous obstacles surrounding you and you can't seem to muster the strength to take one more step, let alone climb... the rational mind kind of stops mattering.

What takes over is that little voice in your head that seems to whine, to whisper coaxingly, "We're so tired. Can't we just stop? There's not really a point in going forward, we're not getting out of this valley anytime soon..." It's so tempting to listen to it, too. To just throw your hands up and to give up, to give into the fear and the doubts and the self-questioning and the mistakes and the failures and the plain old negativity that seems to surround you.

I know this feeling all too well, as it might seem clear to you. The semester has taken its toll, and my little heart is about ready to throw in the towel for 2014. I'm just... done. My empathy has worn thin, my patience has worn thin, even my optimism seems to be in rare supply these days (although hopefully I'm hiding these things pretty well when interacting with other people :) ).

I say this not to be a "Debbie Downer," nor to make anyone worried, but rather, to be open and vulnerable about where I am right now, in hopes that perhaps my struggle will help someone, maybe even you, feel a little better about the #strugglebus you're riding.

I don't have some clever fix for surviving this valley, or any valleys I'll encounter going forward. I don't have some brilliant management tip, or quote, or anything to put some pep in your step. All I've got is faith, and experience, the two best teachers of all. You see, I've been in a valley before. Lots of them, actually. Some have been deeper than others; some have been wider and longer than others, but the beautiful thing is that they've all ended. They end in a climb, of course, which is a challenge in and of itself, for what goes down, must come back up. On the other hand... it can only go up from here.

So if you find yourself in a valley today, know you're not alone. There are a few of us hanging out with you in this valley. And let's take a moment to appreciate that. Not only can we be thankful for this togetherness in the hard times - we are never, ever alone in our struggles - but we can also appreciate the valleys, for they make the heights even more joyful and beautiful than they are.

It is only after being in the valley that we can have an appreciation for how far we've climbed, how much we've grown and learned, how much we can see and understand from the peaks.

all's quiet on the Western front

The soft sounds of Pandora (Katy Perry radio; you're welcome).

The autumn wind gusting outside my windows.

The soft hum of my office heater.

The click-clack of my keyboard keys as I type.

The quiet murmur of the facilities workers performing maintenance.


These are the sounds I hear this morning, in this restful quiet. The students of IU are officially on Thanksgiving Break, and I'm in the office, ready to be productive and really barrel through my to-do list, uninterrupted. But before I start off into my Csziksentmihalyi "flow" time, I wanted to take a moment to be thankful for the quiet. My little introvert heart rarely gets this time to rest, focus, and refocus, and I intend to wring greatness out of every moment of today. It is the week of Thanksgiving, after all, and I'm trying to take time to be thankful in the midst of all circumstances.



Ahhhhhhhhhh. The quiet.

When words fail

I've begun and then dropped this blog post 3 or 4 times over the past couple of weeks. Each time I begin it anew, I take a look at what I've written, and delete. Call it writer's block, call it busy-ness, call it pickiness, but for some reason I just have not been able to put "pen to page," metaphorically speaking, for the past month or so.

Today, I woke up to the news that there was a shooting in Strozier Library at Florida State University, my graduate school alma mater. Three students were shot (one is in critical condition), and the gunman himself was killed in a shootout with police. We don't know why this happened. We can be thankful for the swift action of FSU and Tallahassee police, and the caring and open hearts and arms and offices of student affairs professionals across campus, who are helping students seek the help they may need today.

It is this senseless news that unlocks the flow of words within me... and yet, I can't really find the words to describe how I feel. Shocked, that the warm family I remember from FSU would be so attacked. Thankful, that so few students were injured, and that the situation was resolved quickly. Worried, for the students who will be affected by this, and for my colleagues and friends at FSU who will be caring for and counseling the students - and each other - through the aftermath. Grateful, and immediately guilty, that I am not there - how would I handle this news if I were still in Tallahassee? How would I help students? How would I handle my own worry, my own grief?

How am I handling it now?

Sometimes, words fail us. This is shocking to me, as an English and communication double major, but it's true. Sometimes, we must feel without being able to express; let the emotions course through us and just live in those feelings, without saying (or doing) anything other than feeling. That's what's been happening to me today. Words have failed; all I can do is feel. All I can do is sit, and be sad, and be not understanding of why things happen the way they do, and be thankful for the outpouring of support for Florida State, and be thankful for my colleagues and students and friends, and just... feel.

Hug someone today. Let someone know you care. Send a message of love and support to someone you haven't spoken to in a while. Let's take the time today to make this world a little more loving, a little brighter. Let's take the time to inhabit our emotions and not repress them through words (as it's sometimes easy to do), but to sit and stew and know what it is to be happy or sad or excited or angry or clueless or overwhelmed.

Take a moment to let the words slide away, and just feel.

Boil, boil, my pasta pot

Being a quarter Sicilian (where my paisans at?), food is an integral part of my life. I'm not just talking for basic survival purposes, which is, of course, accurate, but I really mean that food - good food - comes in near the top of my Maslow's hierarchy of needs, right up there with love, belonging, esteem, and self-actualization.

Image via Wikipedia - pasta fits right in the middle of that purple "self-actualization" section

Not only do I describe food as an interest in my life; I'd call it (and eating) more of a hobby. I'll let my ever-evolving waistline speak for itself when it comes to health, but again, food for me is much more than sustaining my body; it's a way to feel, to think, to live, and to connect with people.

I say all this because I had an epiphany last Thursday morning. I was up at 6:30 a.m., making my mom's spaghetti sauce. For those of you who have never had Harriet's spaghetti sauce, let me tell you, it is a TREAT. First of all, the recipe makes a TON, so it's good to share and to have beaucoup leftovers. The real beauty, though, what makes it so delicious, is that all of the ingredients simmer all day long in the crock pot, marrying their flavors for a delicious conclusion at dinnertime.

But that delicious saucy conclusion takes a lot of work, and a lot of dedication. First, there's the early wake-up call (and yeah, I could have made it later in the day, but then it wouldn't have been able to simmer as long! Remember, simmering is key). Then, there's all the prep work that goes into the sauce - browning the meat, chopping the onions and garlic, prepping all the spices, mixing it all together... it's quite a commitment to make this sauce.

There's the rub, though - the delicious outcome is a result of the commitment. Only through the sacrifice of getting up early, of investing precious time in the preparation of the meal, can the meal truly be enjoyed at the end of the day. Making my mom's spaghetti sauce is a labor of love, and the proof is in the pasta sauce.

My epiphany came from consideration of that labor of love. How much more would other pieces of my life benefit if I committed myself to them in the same way I commit to my mom's pasta sauce? Isn't every good thing, every thing that benefits others, worthy of some hard work and sacrifice? Sure, if I give of my utmost self and abilities each day, it's going to make me tired, it's going to feel like I'm "emptying my bucket" with no immediate prospect of filling it again. But eventually, all of the hard work will come to fruition.

Someday, I'll see the finished product of my labors, much like I get to come home to a delicious pot of pasta sauce after a long day's prep work and simmering. But in the same way that I have to trust that my early morning work on my cooking will result in my favorite conclusion - a delicious meal - I must trust in my daily life that my hard work will someday be of benefit to others (even if I don't see it now).

Where can this mantra of "trusting the process" (as cliche as that might seem) benefit you in your life? Where might you dedicate yourself better to your work, believing that in the end you'll benefit from that commitment? What can be your labor of love, your "pasta sauce," today?

These are the questions I ask myself this morning, as I contemplate my mother's pasta sauce (which is also making my stomach rumble). Pasta makes me think of home, of family, of togetherness, of blessings. I want to try to find the same joy in my work process today as I do in cooking, even if the outcome is not as delicious. I want my life to be a labor of love, committed to making the world a better place, one "pot of pasta" at a time.

This post is brought to you in part by Strega Nona

Slow Growth

Now is the winter of our discontent /  Made glorious summer by this son of York - Richard III, Act I, Scene i, Lines 1-2

The lines above may seem a little incongruous considering that summer is now over. Soon gone are the days of 9-5 office hours; kiss the lazy summer weekends by the poolside goodbye. Long-term project thinking must take a backseat to short-term proactivity and reactivity (read: firefighting). Bloomington has doubled in size once again; the roads are clogged with new students just trying to get to Target to buy that new futon. Soon, the hazy summer heat will melt into breezy days and cool nights of fall, soon to be replaced by steely gray winter days once again.

Summer, as I've written before, is one of my favorite times of year. And yet, this summer was rough.

Nothing major happened to me; no family trauma or personal tragedy befell (praise God); and yet, I was discontent this summer. I felt rushed through the days, stumbling headlong through programs and travel, and when I blinked, summer was basically over and it was time to prepare for fall and our Welcome Week programs. I turned 26, and once again found myself beset by the quarter-life crisis: What the hell am I doing with my life? I have a great job, great friends, success... why can't I be content? What am I missing? Should I be seeking something more? Anyone who has wrestled with these questions can tell you that there's no easy answer.

I still don't have an answer to these questions, months later, as we now kick into high gear for fall and another new school year. And yet, the discontent has melted away. I have made a commitment to be more present, to live IN the present, and I find myself feeling more at peace. Sure, I still ponder my next steps; sure, I'd say I'm still in the grips of yet another quarter-life crisis. But contentment is the secret word for Fall 2014, and my one "new year's resolution."

As I think about this shift in personal perspective, I think it's the result of slow growth. If you look at a plant every single day, you may think that nothing has changed. The leaves are no bigger, the stems are no taller. And yet, if you compare the plant to where it was a month ago, it has grown, even in the most subtle of ways. It has changed. It has adapted to its surroundings and found a way to push out new life, new leaves, new growth.

That's the way I feel right now. No growth spurts, no sudden bursts of insight or wisdom. But I am not the same woman I was 3 months ago, 6 months ago, a year ago, two years ago. I am the accumulation of my experiences, good and bad, and I have changed, thanks to that inevitable, creeping slow growth. I can be proud of that change, too. It's noticeable from the outside, even when I don't always acknowledge it from the inside. It's there. It's present. I am learning, growing, and becoming better, day by day. The icy nerves of my "winter of discontent" are melting away, to be replaced by rest and relaxation in the "glorious summer" of the knowledge that I am learning, and that I know more today than I knew yesterday (and, I'll know more tomorrow than I know today). I can be content, at peace.

Contentment is the name of the game, folks. I challenge you to find evidence of your slow growth this fall. Let the winter of your discontent melt away, and find a glorious summer in the knowledge that you are continually learning and changing. Find your peaceful moment in today.

#mightykacy

Courage is a scary thing. You can reach for something, and miss. You can jump, and not have anything to land on. You can ask a question, and be told "no," or "you can't."

For those of you who haven't seen it yet, here is a video of Kacy Catanzaro, my new (s)hero, DOMINATING the Dallas finals of American Ninja Warrior. In under 9 minutes, Kacy takes on HUGE, seemingly insurmountable obstacles... and overcomes them with (seeming) ease. She leaps across huge gaps, she climbs intimidating heights, but she does it all with grace, and gratitude for the support she's receiving... and fear.

Watch her take on the course. There are a few moments when Kacy gets stuck, or is on the verge of slipping or falling, or when she has to psychologically prepare herself for the obstacle in front of her. You can see the fear in her eyes, you know that she is dealing with the mental obstacle of being the first woman to go as far as she has in the competition.

#mightykacy

And yet, she keeps going. She keeps moving forward. She steels herself, then makes the leap. She dangles for a moment, and then reaches for the next bar. She mentally focuses, and then OWNS the obstacle in front of her.

I don't know about you, but I could stand to channel more of #mightykacy in my life. I had an epiphany recently that, in my mind, I equate confidence with courage. Having trust and belief in yourself - confidence - takes INCREDIBLE courage. There is a possibility that you might fail, slip, fall, disappoint others or yourself. There is a chance that your outcome may not be what you promised, envisioned, or imagined.

But you MUST believe. Without trying at all, you might never achieve, never succeed. Fear might be standing in your way, trying to convince you that the thing you want to do isn't worth it, but courage and confidence are the decision to just go ahead and do it anyway.

There have been many moments recently that I've been scared. A seemingly insurmountable obstacle stood in front of me, and I was tempted to walk away from the course. I was tempted to say, "No, not today. I'll come back another time." But channeling that courage - knowing what I wanted to do was scary, but then just going ahead and doing it anyway - and channeling my confidence, I took a step. And then another. And then another. And then another. And after a time, after some steps, some sweat, I looked... and I was done. I had climbed the "spider walls," I had jumped my way through the "pole grippers."

So next time you get scared, pause for a moment. Think of #mightykacy, and steel yourself for the task ahead of you. Know that your years of training will help you in your endeavors. Know that there is a crowd SCREAMING your name, ready to watch you gracefully succeed. Breathe. And make a step. Start the obstacle course. Enter the arena, as our good friend Teddy Roosevelt would say.

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

Have courage. Have confidence. You CAN. You ARE. You WILL.