social media & comparisonitis

I think we’re all aware that social media can cause pangs of envy and make us feel like our lives aren’t shiny enough. In general I’m a fan of unfollowing or ignoring anyone who makes you feel bad about yourself.

But I think our reactions to most people or topics are more nuanced and varied than that and our feelings about other people and their lives are colored by our own mood or circumstances in the moment.

Yesterday I took a 25 minute run during a 28 minute break in phone meetings. I hiked up a hill behind our neighborhood. With all of the rainy days we’ve had lately, the hills were so green and the air was so clear that you could see all the way to a sliver of the Pacific and I felt so grateful.

When I find myself feeling expansive and joyful, I want to reach out, to share, and sometimes the easiest way to do that is to post on Instagram. But then I often doubt myself, like is this bragging? I don’t want to be disingenuous, or intentionally try to make my life seem like it’s always rolling green hills and blue skies. It’s not.

But I think it’s human nature to feel expansive and want to connect broadly when our spirits are high. We don’t feel the same natural impulse to document and share when our day is mundane or worse. In that case I tend to retreat, go inward, or connect with someone closer to home.

So maybe the best approach is to use social media accordingly. When I feel bright, go ahead and scroll for inspiration or share my exuberance. When I feel dim, steer clear. Just to mix things up, I can push myself to occasionally post the lesser moments to balance things out and extend a bridge. And remember that social media isn’t really all that social. If I’m after real connection, my brain and biology won’t be satisfied by an online interaction. Instead I need to hug an actual person or chat with a friend over coffee.

when clarity begets action

I moved into a different role at work two months ago and everything is new to me — new subject matter, new business line, new team. I have a lot to learn and a LOT of questions.

And I’ve noticed that I have to ask questions that are a lot more detailed and granular than what I typically feel comfortable with. I have to quiet down the part of my brain saying shouldn’t you know that? can’t you figure it out yourself? I’ll receive a general answer to a question and then have to follow up and drill down until I have sufficient detail to know what to do with the information. (“Okay, so do you want me to draft the communication?” “Okay, do you want to review before I send it?" “Okay, should I send it now?”)

This process is showing me how very important clarity is to action. So often when we feel like we’re procrastinating, I think instead we just don’t know exactly what to do next.

Maybe you avoid asking the question that would give you clarity because you feel like you should already know the answer. I’m lucky to be in this hew job situation where even though I feel like the answer is probably obvious, it isn’t obvious to me because I’m new and I keep pushing myself to ask.

I also believe that it’s always okay to ask questions because it has to be safe to learn.

And sometimes you might not need to ask your question of someone else — you might just need time to break down your next action item into a smaller step. Maybe you have to make a decision before you can take the next step, and so framing the decision and giving yourself time to think it over is your true next step.

Sometimes the timing isn’t right or you’re waiting for more information to come in. What feels like procrastination might really be background deliberation.

What I’m noticing is that taking the next right action feels goooood, which is motivating me to keep reaching for clarity even when it makes me feel a little bit dumb. Reminding myself that the best time to ask a question is when I have a question.

And then of course sometimes clarity comes from action instead of the other way around but that’s an idea for another day.

On confidence as a gift

Lately I’ve been thinking about the idea that confidence in yourself is a gift that you give to other people. If you have something to share — an idea or an insight that could resonate with other people — but you either don’t have the confidence to put it out into the world, or your delivery lacks strength, the idea will have a hard time landing.

I know I’ve listened to speakers who were uncomfortable onstage and it tends to make everyone else uncomfortable too. We want you to be confident so that we can relax.

Aaron and I recently watched Won’t You Be My Neighbor about Fred Rogers and his wonderful work and television show. Aside from loving the movie and feeling just as comforted by the onscreen presence of Mr. Rogers as I did as a little girl, I was really inspired by the nature of his confidence.

The film shows footage of his testimony to Congress in support of federal funding for public television. By the time it was Rogers’ turn to speak, Senator Pastore, who was leading the hearing, was thus far unconvinced and unimpressed by those who had testified, and pretty surly about it.

Mr. Rogers spoke plainly and gently as he explained his work. But it was also clear that he believed in himself and he conveyed complete conviction in the power and importance of his work. Confidence. At the end of his testimony, Senator Pastore responded simply “I think it’s wonderful.” You could almost see his inner child beaming back at Mr. Rogers.

It’s easy to imagine that confidence should look or feel a prescribed way, perhaps a forceful or especially masculine way. And if you don’t represent that version, it’s easy to assume that you can’t or don’t project confidence. It’s good for me to remember Mr. Rogers, in all his gentle peacefulness, as a beacon of confidence.

On variety

I was making my breakfast this morning and feeling excited about it -- one piece of sourdough toast with avocado and cilantro, one piece with cashew butter, sea salt, cinnamon, blueberries and a fig. 

We usually eat oatmeal in the morning but I'm reading It's Not About the Broccoli, a book about teaching kids to eat well, and the author emphasizes the importance of variety as one of the main components that influence eating behavior. She coaches us not to let kids eat the same things two days in a row. I've been thinking a lot about, and have written about, paying attention to my own eating habits so that I don't have to be a hypocrite when it comes to teaching my kids. I eat the same thing two days in a row all the time. Maybe twenty days in a row.

And I started to see myself in these kids that seem wildly picky, the ones that insist on eating only one brand of chicken nuggets. I don't eat chicken nuggets, but I do feel anxious when my favorite jar of peanut butter gets low. Except I don't even let myself get anxious because I make sure there is backup jar in the pantry.

But the thing is, the idea of variety every day gave me a little sparkle of excitement. Which made me think that there's something a bit constrained going on with my eating. I love peanut butter but I don't want to feel like I have to have it. Toast felt exciting today because it's not oatmeal and part of me doesn't feel free to choose something outside the usual. 

I can get really attached to things that are working well enough, whether it's breakfast or a job or a relationship. Rocking the boat unsettles (erm, rocks) me.

I was listening to a podcast earlier in the week (I think it was this one) that mentioned the endowment effect, a term from economics that describes how we imbue the things we own with more value simply because they belong to us. I think the context on the podcast was that this is one of the reasons it can be hard to declutter and get rid of things. Even if you wouldn't buy the same thing again today, now it's yours and by virtue of that relationship, you've developed an attachment to it. 

I had just been noticing a pattern like this in a particular area of my life. Let's call it a situation. There are things I really appreciate about this situation and that makes me scared to think about letting it go, even if a different situation might be better. Some part of me is too scared to let go of what's good enough about the current situation even though there are also things that I really DO NOT like about it. 

This is about a much more fraught, wide-reaching, longer term decision than breakfast. (Although honestly at time even breakfast has felt fraught.) But noticing that it happens in both places made the bigger decision actually feel less fraught. Like maybe it isn't really dangerous to choose something new, something different. Maybe it's just a pattern of seeing things in my own particular idiosyncratic psyche that makes it seem dangerous.

This possibility breathed some fresh air into the whole thing. Maybe by playing with different options at breakfast, I can get a little bit more comfortable (excited even) with exploring possibilities in other areas.

June Monkey Do's

I'm approaching this month's resolutions a little differently from May. I think there are two routes to take when I'm trying to get myself to do something whether it's changing a habit or tackling a project or whatever. (Okay there are a million routes, but two kinds of routes.) I'll call it the action route and the feeling route.

Act the way you want to feel (or act)

I talk to one of my friends about this a lot -- when we're feeling bleh, action is almost always the answer. Bake the cookies, organize the closet, go to the event, write the blog post, call the friend, do the exercise. I often resist because, you know, I'm feeling bleh. And then I'm amazed that taking action bumps me out of the funk. 

Feel better to act better

Then sometimes what I need is to immerse myself in inspiration or get grounded or  refresh my energy, and then, once I do, taking action is the natural outpouring of that energy. 

June is my first full month back at work, getting used to a completely new way of operating. All week I kept saying I've never been a working mom before. It's hard to overstate how big of a change this is. And I just have a lot to do. It's one of my busiest times of year at work and I'm getting used to juggling childcare and a social life and all of it. 

So adding a bunch of action-oriented resolutions sounds about like walking with a bunch of gravel in my shoe. I am adding a few, that feel good, but mostly I'm focusing on the feeling. 

The one resolution

Meditation. I've meditated on and off for years. And honestly that works for me. When I was younger I thought I needed to commit to it forever. But for me, sometimes meditation feels essential and sometimes other practices --like journaling or yoga or talking with friends -- have more juice. 

Last week was a hard one with settling back into work while my husband was out of town. One morning I was so spun out that I couldn't not meditate. So I turned on a guided meditation by Tara Brach and found so much peace that since then I'm to sit down most mornings for 10 or 15 minutes. 

This is what the feeling route is about -- setting the tone so that inspired action follows rather than forcing any particular task.

That said, in a few categories I do have a specific resolution I'm drawn to trying.

Food & Body

When I'm hungry, I'm asking myself what sounds good to eat and, when practical, eating that thing. I realized that since having Juliet I've been eating with my head more than my body and I want to get back to a more of an Intuitive Eating approach.

Home & Stuff

I'm spending 10-15 minutes straightening up after putting the baby to bed for the night. I almost let myself off the hook for this one (like who has time for this?? not me!) but then I realized that I feel more stressed out when things are messy, and taking a few minutes to mindlessly put things away calms me. Clearing the space helps clear my head.

Money

This one is more along the lines of getting inspired -- I'm on the lookout for a money podcast or two that I like. (Feel free to share any suggestions!)

Work & Creativity

I mentioned a few new habits I want to create along the lines of the blank slate here and I think that's plenty for now!

So hello, June. The month that rings in summer and hot days and means we're almost halfway through the year. Hope you have a good one.

May monkey do review

Now that it's the end of May, I wanted to review how things went with Project: Monkey Do. I'll go into a bit of detail on each of the resolutions I set, but high level I would say I did better on all of them than I would have if I hadn't set the intention, although that doesn't mean I did great.

Body: Dish it up

I wanted to get myself an actual serving of food rather than eating out of the container a I wrote more about that here. While I did keep this in mind throughout the month, I had already started in the months before kicking off this project. By May I think it had lost some of its juice. 

And, more importantly, I had some other stuff come up around food and eating this month that took center stage in my mind -- I'll say more about that in the June resolution post.

Money: Track income & expenses

I wanted to establish a Finance Friday! ritual to update income and expenses in my budget and this went pretty well. There were definitely Fridays (every Friday?) when I wouldn't have given this a thought if I hadn't designated a particular day to take care of money stuff. (In fact this reminded me that tomorrow is Friday and I made myself a note about something I need to take care of on the money front. Yesss)

Screentime + Media: Leave my phone behind

I set the intention to leave my phone in the other room more when I'm with the baby, during creative time, etc. I heard about some fascinating research that supports this and wrote a separate post. When I have the discipline to do this, I am so much happier, so much more present. And yet. I still reach for my phone more than I'd like. I think I need to get more granular about this resolution.

Marriage: Use a cooperative tone

Lack of sleep, going back to work, having a new baby and the infinite responsibilities that go along -- all of these are things that make it harder to keep the snap out of my voice. Having the intention did help, but I think I need to approach this one from a different angle. Stay tuned.

Work + Creativity: Share what I learn

This is so important to me, I think this short phrase might just distill my whole vocational purpose. I have an idea about how I'm going to incorporate this into my job job that I mention here. I was also better about noticing all of the ways I already do this in my life, with friends and acquaintances. And this month having the intention did encourage me to share an article or idea here and there that I wouldn't have otherwise. It also helps frame my thinking for how I want to spend time on social media, which for me is primarily Instagram. 

Home + Stuff: Put things away (even "frequent use" things)

Again, getting a small taste of this practice during May is pushing me to define the goal better for June.

And tomorrow is June apparently so I better hop to that list. I hope your May was full of Spring flowers and goodness!

Fresh starts

I'm back to work this week after a long, lovely maternity leave. It's pretty rare as an adult to have time when you are completely free of lingering work responsibilities and then have the opportunity to start again fresh. (Well, fresh aside from approximately 30,000 emails in my inbox.) 

For this fresh start I'm thinking about whether there are any new habits I want to implement. If you've read Gretchen Rubin's book Better Than Before, she calls this the strategy of the clean slate. This habit changing strategy is only available when there's a big transition in your life -- moving, getting married, changing jobs  -- where your routine is thrown up in the air giving you an opportunity to choose to do some things differently.

A few ideas I'm going to play with...

Scheduling

I typically go into our office in downtown LA once or twice a week. I haven't really had a routine around those days -- I might leave the house to coordinate my commute with a work call, to get there in time for a meeting, or just whenever. But now with a baby's schedule to think about, I'm going to try leaving the house and leaving the office at consistent times. In addition to helping me make it home for the bedtime routine, I think I'll feel more relaxed and it will certainly make it easier to schedule meetings on those days.

Meaning

I have an idea for something I want to suggest for my small close-knit team and I'm going to mention it to my boss on our next check-in. It's something that will let me bring some of my own personal interests into my work life in a way that I hope will also help others. Probably because of this, I do feel a little vulnerable about it! 

Time tracking

As I've been getting ready to go back to work, one of my anxieties is about how to make time for all of the things that matter to me. Work, parenting, creativity, exercise, friendship, marriage, aiy aiy aiy. But, as a colleague and friend who is also a new mom said when we were chatting last week: do you feel like you get to do everything you want to do now? 

Um, no.

I was just listening to an episode of  Elise Gets Crafty where she interviews Laura Vanderkam who writes about time. I've read a couple of Laura's books and remembered that she has a time tracking spreadsheet on her site that you can use to see where the 168 hours in your week go. She writes that when you subtract out work and sleep, most of us still have a lot more time leftover than we think.

I want to know how I'm spending that time, hoping it will show me some possibilities. Not that I will find huge swaths of open or wasted, but even fifteen minutes of creativity goes a long way toward making me feel whole and connected. 

So I'm planning to spend at least the next month keeping track of all my time in fifteen minute increments. (I tracked it in six minute increments for a previous job, so this is doable!)

I've never been a working mom before so it's hard to know what will work for me and which of these ideas could stick. There are a million other things I could try, but today is the day to decide -- I don't want to miss the chance to take advantage of the clean slate! 

I have a new plant on my desk to go along with the new rhythm to my days. Let's see how it goes... Have you been able to create any new practices during a big life change like this? 

Hanging out phone free

I don't tend to pull my phone out while I'm in line for coffee (usually). And I don't check my work email from bed in the morning. (Anymore. Ten years ago that practice was my downfall.) Since I know of other people doing these things, I haven't considered myself to be particularly addicted to my phone. But I'm realizing that's not actually a useful measurement for me.

There are plenty of times when I'm checking and rechecking my email/group chat/Instagram that feels a little like getting my tires stuck in the mud. I think of things I want to look up online or add to my paperless app or etc. countless times a day and my hand is quick to fling around for my phone. It definitely distracts me from whatever I'm doing, and it takes me away from time I could be spending on things I really care about. I want to do better.  

Again with the role model thing

I have no idea what phones or technology will look like when my kids are old enough to use them regularly, but I want to have ground to stand on when I ask them to put their phones down and pay attention to their lives. 

Zones worth protecting

For me the two most important types of time I don't want to interrupt are time with people I care about and time when I'm trying to immerse myself in some creative activity. 

A few weeks ago I listened to this short podcast episode of Hurry Slowly where Jocelyn K. Glei referenced this study about smart phones and brain drain. The researchers essentially found that just having your cell phone present in the room means that your brain is less available to do anything else, in part because some of your attention is directed toward trying not to look at your phone.

You could probably have already guessed this impact, but there's something about seeing research-backed evidence that is very compelling to me when I'm trying to change a habit. 

I might not be checking Instagram while I'm eating dinner with my husband, but research also shows that we both enjoy dinner less if one of our phones are on the table.

So! For the month of May I made a resolution to leave my phone in the other room more. I haven't set any other measurable parameters around it. But just setting the loose intention means I do think twice before grabbing it when I'm going into the nursery to play with the baby, and I leave it in the other room while I'm trying to write. 

So far so good 

When I'm laying on the floor with the baby watching her reach for a toy or drool all over a book, I really do feel happier without my phone around. Much more engaged and much less guilty. It seems like it would be more fun if I could also do something more adult at the same time, like text with a friend or even add items to my grocery list. But surrendering all of my attention to whatever is happening within the four corners of the blanket she's lying on (or more like always rolling off of) is actually more enjoyable. 

And time spent writing (or taking photos or sewing or) without my phone means I actually spend the time writing. Duh. But amazingly effective.  

It's not like I never check my email while nursing, and honestly I'm still doing all of the things I mentioned above more often than I'd like. But the most encouraging part of this resolution is how much more I enjoy my time without my phone around. So instead of having to white knuckle the habit, it's intrinsically motivating.

I'm not at all unique in trying to find ways to make technology work for me instead of the other way around. There are digital detoxes, phone free weekends, software that blocks your internet access, dumbed down phones. Please tell me what is working well for you!

Dish it up

Last week I mentioned that one of the categories I'm focusing on for my Monkey Do experiment is food + body. If there's any relationship I really don't want to mess up for my daughter, it's the one she has with her body. I've struggled through my own food issues over the years, as I know so many women have.

While I've come a long way, there's still more for me to learn in order to model a truly healthy attitude and approach for her. For me this mostly looks like trying to reside in a middle ground, reaching for well-being and pleasure and balance without under- or overdoing anything. 

To that end, my food + body resolution for May is to dish it up, meaning when I eat, give myself a serving of whatever it is I'm having rather than eating out of the container or picking at something. And there are a few reasons why this habit feels important to me. 

The part that's to do with manners

The first reason is the least loaded and has a lot to do with living in a house with other people. And this realization is actually what started me on this path of this experiment. When I've lived alone, it's never been a big deal to eat peanut butter out of the jar or grab a couple of handfuls of granola out of the bag. But while doing just that, it dawned on me that if I don't want any kids eating popcorn out of a giant bag (especially with those grubby little hands!), I better stop doing it myself.

And the more I thought about it, the more I realized this kind of grosses me out even if I am the only one eating peanut butter out of that jar. Which I'm not. Sorry, honey. 

On a related and even grosser note, part of this resolution also includes no random bites. I won't be gobbling a few more roasted veggies with my fingers as I pack up dinner leftovers, and I won't be eating anything (glop of oatmeal) that slid down the outside of the mug because it's faster than wiping it up with a paper towel. So embarrassing to even realize I do that! 

Choosing a reasonable portion

Often I'll start out eating a few almonds out of the bag because I don't think I need more than that. And then I'll have a few more and a few more and you see where this is going. If I'm so hungry that I end up eating a bunch of snack food, I would have been better off fixing myself something substantial to eat. The same way I will do for my daughter.

And the flip side is also true. If I put a real portion of food into a bowl, an amount that seems like it would be satisfying, I'm less likely to keep going back for more even past the point of satisfaction. Overall I think I end up eating less by dishing myself up more to start with. 

Having permission to eat rather than stealing bites

There's something about feeling like you're allowed to have a real serving that changes the tone. It's not exactly that I'm sneaking or stealing food otherwise, but the attitude feels a bit more covert than it would to cut myself a real slice of banana bread, place it on a plate, and sit down at the table to eat it. The first way feels like it doesn't quite count and it's not meant to. The second way feels like nourishment. Again, I wouldn't carve a thin sliver of bread off and hand it to a child to eat while standing at the counter. I'd want them to sit down and enjoy their food fully.

Let's see what happens...

This is a small practice in the grand scheme of things, but part of this experiment is to choose actions I can measure. Over the weekend we were traveling and I definitely had too many handfuls of trail mix and granola out of the bag, even knowing this post was drafted in the queue. But curiosity and progress are the real point here more than any rigid adherence to rules. And it's worth it to me to keep trying!

---

Along with years of my own experience working through food and body issues, two books have really helped me think clearly about my approach to kids and food, and both extol the French way (my love for the French is shameless): Bringing up Bebe and French Kids Eat Everything. Do you have any favorite resources?

Project: monkey do

Becoming a mom has pointed some things out to me about myself. Kind of like when straightening up before having people over for dinner you see some messes you hadn't noticed before. And a piece of art hanging crookedly. I'm seeing some of my habits and patterns with fresh eyes, the good ones and the please-don't-do-as-I-do ones.

Falling in love with this little person, and wanting the very best for her, makes me want to get better at certain things so that I can pass them onto her without being a hypocrite. That little face is watching my every move.

Thinking about all of these habits and behaviors, I came up with the idea of starting a personal experiment where I create some resolutions for myself geared at becoming the parent I want to be. In that spirit, I came up with a handful of areas where I want to focus my efforts.

Experiment Categories

• Food + Body
• Money
• Screentime + Media
• Marriage + Relationships
• Work + Creativity
• Home + Stuff

I've been holding the idea of this project loosely in my mind for a few months, and even following (or aspiring to follow) some resolutions, but I've been craving more structure to it all. So I'm bringing it here! Writing about it will help me clarify my own thoughts, force me to put structure around the project and commit to certain resolutions, and create a little community around it. 

I had been debating about whether to spend a month on each area or tackle all of the resolutions at once. They all feel important! But what I decided to do is to choose one resolution for every category each month, starting in May, i.e. NOW. This is probably ambitious considering that when I first drafted this post I left out a whole category! But I don't want to overthink it at the expense of starting, so here goes...

May resolutions

Body: Dish it up, i.e. always get myself a serving of food, never eat out of the container
Money: Track income and expenses on my budget every Friday (Finance Friday!)
Screentime + Media: Leave my phone in the other room (when I'm with the baby, during creative time, etc.)
Marriage: Use a cooperative tone of voice and apologize when I forget
Work + Creativity: Share what I learn
Home + Stuff: Put things away (even "frequent use" things)

I plan to elaborate about these resolutions in future posts. I'll explain why I chose them and share some of the research that I've found. And report back about how I'm doing! 

(Have you read The Happiness Project or Happier at Home? I am a HUGE Gretchen Rubin fan and love her books about her own personal experiments.)

l'apéritif

Aaron and I haven't been out on a date night yet since having Juliet (almost five months ago!). I just finally got my haircut last weekend so that's a start. I honestly haven’t really felt the desire to get out at night. (Hello, sleep.) Pair that with the fact that we don’t have any family in town, i.e. no babysitters at the ready, and going out to dinner just the two of us isn't happening.

But in the meantime! I stumbled on something that helps make an ordinary night at home feel a bit more special — a souped up cocktail hour. Having a glass of wine or sharing a beer on the couch at the end of the day is nothing new. What makes it feel special is the addition of a small savory nibble to pair with the drink before dinner.

The food culture in France has always really appealed to me and lately I've been reading about how centered it is around gathering up the people you care about and letting delicious food and drinks enhance the experience. This little hack I discovered without looking for it makes me feel almost French in its elegance.  

One Friday night I decided to make us a little appetizer to snack on before dinner -- Parmesan zucchini fries from Sarah Britton's cookbook Naturally Nourished. And then I decided we should munch on them while sipping a glass of Malbec and sitting at our bar before eating dinner. Ooh la la, I loved it. So the next night I made us her sour cream & onion roasted chickpeas.

I knew I hit on something last Thursday when Aaron asked: "Is it the weekend?" And realizing it wasn't: "Oh, I was hoping for a goûter tonight." (Goûter, pronounced GOO-tay, is the word the French use for kids' after school snack. The literal translation is "to taste" and we've adopted it to mean a little treat of some kind.) 

So the next afternoon I made these salty + sweet roasted pepitas for us to munch on with rosé after putting Juliet to bed. This time I also felt inspired to change my shirt, dab on lip some gloss, and light some candles. All of those tiny things add up to what feels like a real transition into adult time. Again, that elegant feeling. And it sets the tone for dinner to feel a little bit more leisurely. Usually I'm so starving by the time I get done putting Juliet to bed that having some wine before dinner would knock me down. The snack makes the languid pace possible.

Whipping up an amuse-bouche in addition to, you know, dinner might feel a little ambitious. For me it feels manageable that it's weekends only. And the pepitas will last us through a few cocktail hours (on separate nights!) if we try. In a pinch, we could always skip the cooking and open a jar of fancy olives instead. 

Even if I didn't have a new baby, I still think this could be a neat trick. For when you're trying to eat at home more to save money. For when you're trying to get the most enjoyment out of a lighter meal. For when you want to have a romantic date night with yourself.   

A real date night out is in our near future, but until then, vive l'apéritif!

the ability gap

I recently read a paragraph in Ann Patchett’s The Getaway Car  that articulated something I’ve been struggling to express (which is exactly what I’m often looking for when I read).

The pattern is something I noticed when I tried to write my maid of honor speech* for my best friend’s wedding last Fall and as I procrastinated writing the final paper for a class at UCLA: the gap between what I feel capable of writing and what I want so badly to express is more than I think I can cross. And it terrifies me to even try which is compounded by the fear that I won't try when actually it's something that I MUST do.

Ann Patchett thinks this very gap is what keeps most people from writing and she says the key is forgiveness. I guess forgiving ourselves for not already being as amazing as we think we should be.

Ira Glass said pretty much the same thing, and so encouragingly. 

This gap is definitely true of the blog I want to have versus the blog I’m able to create right now. If nothing else, because I don’t want to start at the beginning with a sprinkling of first blog posts and have to build up to something that feels substantive. (Interestingly, I could avoid this by reviving an old blog, but I feel more excited about starting anew.)

I have to let myself create across the gap. Start where I am. And endure the discomfort of imperfection, of beginning. I was talking, i.e. texting, with a friend the other day about how charming a crooked smile can be. And we said it’s such a good reminder of why perfectionism is pointless -- perfect is never charming.

It also reminds me of how I feel when I see a really beautiful movie, something French or Indie, and the heroine is not perfect. She’s beautiful, but there’s something flawed about her too, mussed up and rumpled. And that makes her even more lovely. I always come out of those movies believing, momentarily, that maybe I can be lovely in my own way even if there are circles under my eyes and my nose is crooked. I’m not there yet, but at least it’s a notion?

So I’m here and trying to see the charm in a flawed baby blog. 

*Sidenote: I did try to write that speech, mostly because I had to. And despite my anxiety in the days leading up to it, I poured out enough of my life force energy that it was the best I could do. I mouthed the words silently to myself all day as we primped in the bridal suite and waited to have our photographs taken. And by the time I stood up to clink my fork against my crystal champagne glass, with my voice shaking and my eyes filling, I said what I most wanted to say about my friends and their love and what it taught me. People I didn't know came up to me for the rest of the night and told me how much they loved it. And that felt great, but what felt even better was that I gathered up the courage to cross the gap and do what I needed to do. And my hope is that every time I do that, the fear will shrink ever so slightly, or I'll be ever so slightly less frozen in the face of it. 

permission to get dressed

It’s time to refresh my capsule wardrobe and I feel stuuuuuck. Last Fall/early Winter was my first three month stint and I loved it. I enjoyed getting dressed and I felt put together almost all the time. But this second cycle has been tough. It was freezing when I filled my capsule with long sleeves + dark colors + wool sweaters, but since then we’ve spent half our days in the 70’s and 80’s. Getting dressed feels like a chore. A drab one.

Maybe it messed with my confidence to create a new capsule because I’m not inspired to choose new pieces. I don’t know what to choose!

A few weeks ago I started a project of reading my old journals and today I read a passage from right before I moved from Portland to LA. I needed a bunch of new clothes because I was going from the laid-back Portland life of working in yoga clothes back to the corporate world. I had gone to see a stylist at Anthropologie and we spent four! hours decking me out in frocks and smocks I loved.

***
I have beautiful clothes.
Beautiful. Really lovely.
Not on sale. Cute. Stylish.
Fit my body. Now.
Look good on me.
Feel good in.
Silky fabrics. Feminine.
Delightful.
Some jewelry.
A pair of really cute shoes.

How do I think I’m going to feel to have all these lovely clothes, to wear them?

Because I’m actually kind of scared to wear them. Scared that they get me ready to LIVE, and then all that will be left is to actually live, and… eeep!

Why should I be all put together and lovely? (i.e. that’s just not me!)

I know I need to understand my own reasons for caring – about style, beauty, pleasure, adornment. Otherwise I’ll always go halfway, or feel guilty or be apologizing or fail to enjoy it.
***

I wrote that almost four years ago and even though I know where that fear and those limiting beliefs come from, I guess they’re still with me because, like I said, I’m re-stuck.

But I had so much fun with that wardrobe. Maybe I could go back to a stylist, but my love affair with Anthro eventually fizzled and there’s no one store that has filled its shoes. (Teehee.)

I think of someone I know and admire and love who always looks great – hair, makeup, nails, clothing. Never a mess, never schlumpy. And it seems to reflect her internal world, which I also admire.

This makes me think a leap is needed. Like the part of me who knows it’s time to shift something in my style identity to better reflect my internal world is at odds with the part of me who doesn’t feel allowed to do that.

I need a permission slip.

hope on a bike

I love riding my bike. Not just to ride it around the neighborhood aimlessly or for exercise, but to ride it toward a particular destination, like a coffee shop or the farmer’s market down the street or even just to mail a letter.

When I ride to this one café in our neighborhood, I get to coast slightly downhill along a beautiful tree-lined street with sun filtering through, dappling light onto my path and the force of the breeze fluttering through my hair. It makes me feel gloriously, singularly carefree.

(Maybe too carefree: Last week I left the café above after lunch with a friend and realized as I hopped on my bike that I had forgotten my helmet on the patio and almost got ran over as I turned back to get it.)

I don’t ride as much as I’d like because there aren’t that many places that feel close enough, and I’m a complete chicken when it comes to riding in traffic. This is LA traffic with no bike lanes and with impatient SUVs swerving around each other and honking at the slightest provocation and I figure it only takes one driver fiddling with his cell phone to mangle me horribly.

But A and I found a new café last weekend on Fairfax that is adorable and has delicious coffee and treats. The parking situation is horrible so I had the idea to try riding there on my bike.

When I imagined the route, it was a bit daunting. First head down Fountain (on the sidewalk because drivers take Fountain way too fast, and man am I sounding more and more like a fussy grandmother with every paragraph). Then left on Fairfax where I would also take the sidewalk even though I’d have to keep slowing down to pass pedestrians. Picturing that route, I could smell the exhaust of the city buses and hear the noise of the traffic and feel my impatience at waiting at the stoplights. All of it was draining away any carefree vibe.

You should know that when I’m riding my bike I either feel really cool, in the image above where I’m coasting effortlessly with my hair and shirttails streaming behind me and my messenger bag slung across my back, or I feel like my bike is the mode of transportation I take when I’m not on the short bus.

On a busy street, I’m waiting at lights for the crosswalk and then riding along the sidewalk while wearing a helmet. (To protect me from what exactly? A rogue maltipoo?) And never is this more embarrassing than when I tool along, helmet clad, on the sidewalk, against oncoming traffic, and a real bicyclist comes my way, blaring past me in the opposite direction. Ack.

I was imagining all of this and feeling my enthusiasm for the excursion slow to a trickle when I realized I could take side streets all the way there. I could coast through the neighborhood, with a minimum of lights and a maximum of sun dappled streets!

Once I saw that possibility, it was funny to me that I hadn’t seen it before. I had been a flick of my kickstand away from biking through the horns and exhaust when this new route dawned on me. I took the pretty route, and have a bunch of times since.

Today, I rode to Blue Bottle, even further away, again through charming, narrow streets, blooming with spring flowers. It’s a sunny-and-75, Everything Is Great, Everything is Grand, Southern California style gem of a day.

Makes me wonder where else in my life I’m automatically assuming I have to take the drudgery route when I could opt for the lovely (or just okay) one…