The Requisite New Year Post in Which All Old Things are Redocumented and New Things Dreamed Up 2.0

Below is an excerpt from the New Year's post I wrote at the beginning of 2010, making my predictions or hopes for the year.  After of living the last 365 days, let's compare notes (my new comments will be left in red): 


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What will 2010 hold?  There are a few things I know for almost sure:

Graduate (square hat: check, defend thesis: check, get diploma: check.  Fantastic)
Get a big-kid job (kinda, sorta. If you squint and look at it sideways, it's a big kid job)
Run the Buffalo Triathlon (And the Brewhouse too! Also, PR on Buffalo even after a bike collision that sent the bottom half of my leg in a different direction than the top)
Run the Muddy Buddy race with Kim (Ski slopes were meant for skiing.  Not biking and running up and down, up and down.  Still an awesome time!)
Continue to make art (Even sold a few)
Continue to consider the three mile loop around Lake of the Isles "mine" (Moved to the suburbs, became a gym rat.  Consider treadmill 3rd from wall on left, 4th row "mine")
Turn 24 on my golden birthday! (And had a fabulous Uptown birthday party to boot)
 face challenges I can probably not even dream of but I feel confident that I can overcome 

Hopes for 2010: 
I don't really know, actually.  I hope that I can be injury-free and successful in my races (well, mostly), that school provides me enough challenge to know that I have earned the degree but not so much that I run fleeing from the University (mostly), that my relationships with family and friends stay strong (I think they got stronger), that something I do (large or small) makes someone happier or relieved for even a moment, that I continue to surprise myself by trying new things and taking calculated, but exhilarating risks (Oh, I surprise myself everyday.  Whether I like it or not). 

Resolutions?  Meh, not really, but if I think about "starting over" in the New Year, there are a few things I would like to try, like: better organization and time management (Sources Unknown.  Please Try Again), better/more meaningful communication with friends, and learning to cook awesome food (think more Asian inspired dishes, learning to cook fresh fish, and maybe even an attempt at sushi) (Think: grilled cheese and tomato soup.  From a can).  I guess I would like to expand my "life learning" in general after 18 solid years of dedicating myself almost solely to academic learning.  We'll see what happens. 
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So, what's in store for 2011?  


Well, I will run my 3rd Buffalo Triathlon  on June 5.  In October I will run my first (and probably last) marathon.  I am planning on biting another adulthood bullet and moving into my own place in March/April.  Purchase of kitty cat to follow.  I certainly hope that 2011 is the year of a permanent, full time job-- this temporary stuff is stressful.  There is a potential Spring Break trip to Ft. Myers, FL with two women who have known me for 10 years (10 years!!).  I think it is going to be full of promise, excitement, budgeting, fantastic conversation with friends, maybe some heartbreak.  I am sure there will be a twisted ankle or shin splint, hurt feelings, and loss.  Time will pass like any other year, bringing with it opportunity and wisdom.  And more funny stories to tell.  


I know I have the good life because every year is better than the one before it.  2011 has big shoes to fill.


Happy New Year, everyone!

Reverb 10.31: Core Story

December 31-- Core story.  What central story is at the core of you, and how do you share it with the world?  


Genetics, schmenetics.  My blood type was given to me specifically for the way happiness courses through me daily. 


B Positive.  


And that, I think, is my core story.  I looked back through all the reverb prompts, figuring those were a pretty good reflection on the year I have had.  If not the events, at least the way the year makes me feel, having survived all 364.5 days of it so far.  And despite the honesty about a rough go here and there, the common themes included: a newfound safety in reliance on friends,  a continued reliance on perspective about my various situations (living in your sister's basement is better than not having anywhere to live, having a temporary job in your field trumps going back to my barista days), and the huge role that humor and laughter play in my life.  


Appreciating life doesn't mean looking at how things could be worse.  It means feeling positively about how things are.  Just because they are.  

Reverb 10.30: Gift

December 30-- Gift. This month gifts and give-giving can feel inescapable.  What's the most memorable gift, tangible or emotional, you received this year?

This year, I got more than what I wanted.  I got exactly what I needed.  

The gift of friendship when being my friend isn't easy.  

When I am angry.  When I am stressed.  When I am overexcited.  When I am too chatty.  When I am making decisions that may later leave my friends picking up the pieces.  When I am idealistic.  When I am running late.  

Friendship stuck in there.  

A lot of people say that's what friendship means-- being there even when people aren't at their best and most enjoyable.  And while that might be true, I know I am awfully lucky.  

Reverb 10.29: Defining Moment.

December 29-- Defining moment.  Describe a defining moment or series of events that has affected your life this year. 

I spent agonizing afternoons looking for the dress that simply stated "I am young and fresh (and a little stylish, to boot!) but I am also ready to face this world as a new professional who acts with maturity and resolve." And I found the dress: a beautifully structured cotton dress with modest neckline, gorgeous bold watercolor floral print, a cute bright yellow belt, and pockets.  All dresses should have pockets. 

And for all that searching, the little gem sat on a hanger in my room for 6 weeks because I vowed I would not even consider wearing it until the event for which it was purchased. 

May 17, 2010 came, and I slid the dress over my recently tanned shoulders and a body that had too long been away from the gym or trails.  And then immediately slid a too-big one-size-fits-most black robe right over that beautiful dress, put my round head in a square hat adorned with a salmon pink tassel that clashed with the intense hues so carefully chosen weeks ago. I covered feet that had figuratively and literally run miles and miles over the last two years with a fabulous pair of brown kitten heels and in the blink of an eye, I had taken no more than 20 steps across a dramatically lit stage in Northrup Auditorium at the University of Minnesota, accepted a scroll and alumni gift, and quickly found my seat amongst dozens of other 30 second graduates of the University of Minnesota School of Public Health.  

For years I had been joking that I was going to put the MPH in 'triumph' and, in fact, you readers have heard the joke many many times (sorry).  But walking across that stage defined what this year has been all about: the passage from one stage of life to the next.  

And looking fabulous doing it.

Reverb 10.28: Achieve.

December 28-- Achieve.  What's the thing you most want to achieve next year?  How do you imagine you'll feel when you get it?  Free? Happy? Complete? Blissful?  

Achievement of 2011: Own a toaster. 

Because owning a toaster means I have moved into my first "own place." Moving in to my own place means I had the financial means to do such a thing.  Having the financial means is indicative of one of two things: I have earned and maintained gainful employment and/or have saved and spent savvy enough to afford to live on my own.  Gainful employment and saving/spending wisely means I have crossed an important threshold in the journey towards adulthood and greater independence.  And this is what 24 year old, bright, well-educated, fabulous young women are supposed to do. 

And then I am making Jesus toast.  Lots and lots and lots of Jesus toast.

Reverb 10.27: Ordinary Joy.

December 27-- Ordinary Joy.  Our most profound joy is most often experienced during ordinary moments.  What was one of your most joyful ordinary moments this year?

The frenzied typing of a term paper would slow and eventually stop.  The last dishes from the dinner meal would be dried and put away.  The TV would fall silent after playing the preview for next week's episode of [fill in the guiltiest pleasure reality TV show].  And from all corners of a charming second floor Uptown apartment, my roommates and I (and often Roommate 2.0- one of the boyfriends) would gather around the most sacred space our combine student loans could afford: the kitchen counter.  Every night, between 8 and 10 pm (or whenever the last roommate navigated the tiny front stairwell after a long day of class), the three/four of us would sit on the $10 kitchen stools in the bluest of blue kitchens and have our "kitchen counter pow wow." 

At the time, they didn't seem anything special.  They weren't even really a scheduled event.  But somehow, a block of time-- at least 30 minutes-- found its way between class schedules, long nights at work, piles of homework, and social engagements.  And this time, sometimes stretching hours and going way past bedtime on a school night, is the time I got to know my roommates best.  Sometimes we just talked about our day: how great/awful our classes were, the weirdos on the bus, a planned 8 mile run that turned into 3 miles and a latte instead.  Sometimes we talked about more serious things: heartbreak, how we imagined our future lives, things that scared us, things we were excited about.  Sometimes we watched YouTube videos so many times we could quote them for months following.  One time we broke into "MmBop" by Hanson.  Always we appreciated knowing that someone was checking in to make sure we were each okay, all separated from our families by the drive to earn post-grad degrees.  Always we appreciated the different views each of us brought to the kitchen counter. 

Each night I understood these women better than the night before, each night our friendship became stronger, each night we laughed, and each night we made an unspoken commitment that no matter how crazy our lives got, there was always time to say "Hey, I am thinking about you and I hope you had a good day."

100 Reads: Three Cups of Tea

I recently finished Three Cups of Tea, that tells the story of Minnesota native Greg Mortenson and how his failure to climb K2 is changing the world.  Mortenson starting working to build schools in Pakistan, and particularly schools that will educate girls, when he had hardly any money and was sleeping in his car.   He earned the respect of many people worldwide, and most importantly in the Muslim communities of Pakistan.  While some did not trust the big American, many welcomed him and did as much as they could to convince Mortenson to build one of his famous schools in their village.  

Mortenson's story is an inspiring lesson in many ways: with nothing but passion and a reason to act, one can achieve many things; you cannot (and do not have to) do things by yourself; you can make big change with few traditional resources; despite cultural and religious differences, all people want a better life for their children; and it is so important to educate girls.

I haven't yet decided what book from the list to read next, but with 70 to go, I don't think lack of options is my problem!

Happy page-turning!

Reverb 10.26: Soul Food.

December 26-- Soul food.  What did you eat this year that you will never forget?  What went in to your mouth and touched your soul?


Now, I am positive that the following answer was not at all what this author was hoping to inspire out of all the Reverb-ers out there.  But this is something I will certainly not forget for a very long time.
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November 11 is Veteran's Day and as a government employee, I have to take the day off whether I like it or not.  This year it was on a Thursday, awkwardly interrupting my week and forcing me to try to be productive on the lonely Friday workday that would follow.

So, in Mugwump fashion, I griped about having to take the day off.  I waxed on quite dramatically about how I would MUCH rather take the Friday off instead, and since I am not a veteran, should I really get a day off at all?

By the afternoon of the preceding Wednesday, I had warmed to the idea of a whole day off from work (guilt free!) and even made a few plans so I didn't spend my day off on the couch eating tortilla chips.

But all of that changed with the most fateful and unforgettable lunch of 2010: pre-packaged sushi.  At 2 AM on November 11, I awoke with a mild crampy stomach and stretched myself and tried to go back to sleep.  10 minutes later, the pain was unbearable and had me balled into the fetal position.  Shortly after, I found myself crying into the toilet bowl, vomiting the entire contents of my stomach.  Like clockwork through the morning, I would wake up on the hour and vomit the meager contents of my stomach, until about 7 AM when I simply dry heaved until I could no longer take it.  I tried to drink water to stay hydrated, but to no avail.  It was simply expelled with the next hourly installment of the Great Gastrointestinal Cleanse of 2010.  And that continued for most of my vacation day, which I ended up spending on the couch, now totally exhausted, unable to eat or drink, too weak to move, and most distressing: hungry.

I wasted my whole day of forced vacation, had to take the following Friday off from work as well, and felt generally like a greasy pile of sludge (and HUNGRY) through the entire weekend.

I haven't gone in to every detail about those four days, particularly the heaving of Day 1, because I'd be shocked if you would stay and read through all of that.  It's not very "holiday spirit" of me either, particularly for those of you who may have overindulged on the Christmas cookies and baked hams and are feeling a little gut-busty yourselves.  But let me tell you, while I think the author was looking for me to share a story of some exotic food discovery or to confess about the day I fell in love with Chobani greek yogurt, this sushi really touched my soul this year.

All 28 intestinal feet of my soul.

Reverb 10.25: Photo.

December 25-- Photo- a present to yourself.  Sift through all of the photos of you from the past year.  Choose the one that best captures you; either who you are, or who you strive to be.  Find the shot of you that is worth a thousand words.  Share the image, who shot it, where, and what it best reveals about you.  

Photo credit: Dad

June 6, 2010.  Buffalo, Minnesota.  Buffalo Triathlon, sprint distance.

What does this photo reveal about me, besides that I am a bit of a Tubby Trotter?

1. I design good shoes.  Despite their minor role in the photo, check out those babies!  Fantastic.
2. "Happy" comes pretty easily.  
3. I see a good photo op coming and I take it!
4. Despite being relatively out of shape and suffering a minor, but tears-inducing, bike crash earlier on the course, I didn't quit.  I am not a quitter (and the medal was shiny and you only get one if you cross the finish line on your own power).  
5. I don't look good in bike shorts.  At all.  
6. I imagine I will continue to spend all kinds of money so I can keep running in circles at events like these.  The feeling of being this close to the finish line and then crossing it never really gets old.  

Merry Christmas, everyone!  XOXO

Reverb 10.24: Everything's OK.

December 24-- Everything's OK.  What's the best moment that could serve as proof that everything is going to be alright?  And how will you incorporate that discovery into the year ahead?

storypeople.com

Knowing everything is going to be okay happens as soon as you let go of searching for that 'one moment.'  I don't need a defining moment to tell me I am doing okay.  I am not asking for permission to feel like life is turning out just fine.  That which did not kill me may or may not have made me stronger.  The point is, it didn't kill me.  So, everything must be okay.

Reverb 10.23: New Name.

December 23-- New name.  Let's meet again, for the first time.  If you could introduce yourself to strangers by another name for just one day, what would it be and why?

What do you mean, I can't call myself Princess Perfect Pants with Hair of Golden Waves and Charming Personality?  

Well... Katie, then.  

Reverb 10.22: Travel.

December 22--Travel.  How did you travel in 2010?  How and/or where would you like to travel next year?  


Plane (to DC for a fantastic Labor Day Weekend).  Train (to work every day).  Automobile (to Duluth and Grand Marais for camping, for coffee with good friends, to go my parents' for an opportunity to refresh myself).  Bipedal (across the graduation stage, around the lakes, on the never-ending treadmill).

How would I like to travel next year?  Extravagantly.  How will I travel?  Plane, train, automobile, and bipedal I imagine.  And I have no idea where I am going.  Boy, isn't that an understatement...

Reverb 10.21 (Bonus Edition): Future Self.

This is my letter to my younger self, as per the bonus question to yesterday's Reverb.  It made me realize, in many ways, I am glad I didn't know then what I know now. 

I started to write to my former self (maybe not former, but younger), and found it is hard to write a letter to your teenaged-self without crushing all of her hopes and dreams. It's not like I can give her all the factual knowledge I have-- imagine such a letter: "Dear 14 year old self, you are currently the most awkward being on the planet. This will get better, but not much." And how do you begin to explain things like Facebook, Twitter, blogging, and smartphones. Isn't there an app for writing to your teenaged self?!


And on a more serious note, ten years ago 14-year-old Katie had not experienced an attack on her own country, had not watched a hurricane devastate a huge part of her country's history and culture, had not yet felt the political and religious ripples of the death of a pope and subsequent election of a new pope. She had not yet experienced the relaxed beach culture of Australia, strolled the tree-lined and history-ladened boulevards of Paris, or walked along a ditch in Guatemala tangibly feeling poverty she didn't even know existed. But I can't tell her these things.

I can't tell her that the best friend she's about to meet is going to be at her grad school graduation ten years later, still one of the biggest champions on Team Katie. She needs to work hard (and send a hundred emails) to make that friendship work. I can't tell her about falling in love. And then out of it. And then back in again. And I can't describe to her the feelings of being a part of the fabulous love stories as friends quietly tell you "(S)he's the one," take their engagement photos, and get married. I can't tell her how honored she'll be to squeeze herself into some, um... interesting bridesmaids dresses. These are all the bonus rewards of being a good friend but I don't want her to work hard to be a good friend just for a closet full of interesting dresses.

I can't tell her about all the times she's about to get hurt, physically and emotionally. She'll be too afraid to try anything new. And if 14 year-old Katie is anything like current Katie, she is especially worried about things that might hurt her face. And her pride. I don't want to rob her of the anticipation bottled up in a single envelope by telling her that she gets in to almost every grad school she applies for admission. I don't want to ruin the magic of a first date by telling her "This one doesn't work out. Or this one. Or this one. Nope, not that one either." I can't tell her everything is going to be fine, because even if for only a fleeting moment, sometimes things are not.

So what can I tell my 14 year-old self for the years ahead?


Dear Katie,


This life is fabulous. And you are fabulous in it. Be surprised, be scared, be happy, and be angry. Have days where you don't want to get out of bed and have days where you greet every living thing on the street. Send mail. Cry in front of other people and be forgiving and understanding when they cry in front of you. Be a good friend, always. If you can do these things, you will be truly living, regardless of the events happening around you. Life can happen to you, or you can participate in it. Unlike many of the challenges you will face, there is a right answer: participate. And participate fully.


This life is fabulous. And you are fabulous in it.

XOXO
Katie

Reverb 10.21: Future Self.

December 21-- Future Self.  Imagine yourself five years from now.  What advice would you give your current self for the year ahead?  (Bonus: Write a note to yourself 10 years ago.  What would you tell your younger self?)

Dear Katie,
You have worked hard to get to where you are. Probably harder in the last few years than ever before, as new tasks and challenges presented themselves quite boldly and the answers didn't always come to you as naturally and easily as they once had. But that's okay because these challenges have been so good for you. They have provided you with a new perspective on what (and who) really matter. They have given you a new patience and grace with people while also reminding you that life is simply too wonderful to waste holding grudges and being angry.

While I refuse to tell you (me?) that "your real life is about to start" because everything up until this point has really been real life, I will tell you that you are balancing on the cusp of big things. Or, in triathlon terms, you are at the transition between the swim and the bike. You have survived a tough part, but there are still big hills to climb and rocky roads. There might even be a flat tire, but you can fix it. Above all, there are always other cyclists. You can always ask for help and no one who loves you is going to be disappointed that you didn't have the right answer or all of the resources. You are still young; forgive yourself the way others forgive you.

Continue working hard and do not get discouraged. Lots of things will change: your job, where you live, who you hang out with, your favorite TV show, the song that makes you drum the steering wheel. There are, however, some things about you that are just truth. Whether you like it or not. You are blunt and honest and that will please some and offend many. You are uninhibited with your stories and bring an inextinguishable energy to discussion. You are a good friend and in return you have earned the respect and love of many people who need you in much the same way that you need them. Hold tight to these truths, and do not put energy into changing them. They are the fibers of Katie, just as much as your Great-grandpa Lyle's big blue eyes, your mother's sensitivity to animals, your father's love for belly laughs, and that crazy head of messy curls that is uniquely you.

Hang in there kid.

XOXO
(Future) Katie

Reverb 10.20: Beyond Avoidance.

December 20-- Beyond Avoidance.  What should you have done this year but didn't because you were too scared, worried, unsure, busy or otherwise deterred from doing?  (Bonus: will you do it?)

I am sure the last 11 months and 20 days presented me with opportunities I could have done, but as the year plays out its very last days, I can confidently and honestly write that I don't think there is anything else I should have done that would have moved mountains or changed my life. 

Of course, there's some usual players in the woulda-coulda-shoulda game.  I should have saved more money. I should have logged more miles on the trail/bike/treadmill.  I should have applied for more jobs.  I should have networked harder.  I should have eaten more lettuce and less chocolate.  I should have done more laundry and I should have stopped procrastinating. 

Those of you who know me well know I am much more apt to do something I shouldn't have than not do something I should have.  Happy to report that this only happened a handful of times this year, and I usually recognized it immediately the next morning.  Ugh.  I should have stopped a beer or two earlier.  And a lot of the other "shouldn't do but I am going to anyway" moments have turned in to some of the best stories of the year.  So despite what is beginning to feel like Reverb10's way of trying to make me repent for all of the ways I was a horrible human last year and make me vow to right myself in time for 2011, I have no regrets about the woulda-coulda-shouldas from 2010. 

Reverb 10.19: Healing.

December 19-- Healing.  What healed you this year?  Was it sudden, or a drip-by-drip evolution?  How would you liked to be healed in 2011?


I am assuming the author of this prompt is looking for something a little deeper, and a little more spiritual than "Three Buck Chuck.  The Merlot, please."

Okay, just let me put this glass down and get to thinking and a-ticka-typing.

Laughter.  Laughing in celebration.  Laughing in disbelief.  Laughing so hard I cried and crying so hard I laughed.  Making friends and family laugh.  Laughing at home, laughing at work, and sending a hearty 'LOL' in response to a well-told joke sent many miles via text.  Sometimes it's a sudden outburst of laughter that makes you spit your coffee across the table and sometimes it's a story that starts a tickle in your toes and rolls in to a giant belly laugh that just won't subside.

I guess I could look for something else to heal myself with next year-- maybe I could start becoming more one with my mindsoulbody by starting yoga or drink seaweed smoothies to literally heal myself when I am ill.

But laughing rarely has me bent with my butt in my air and my head tucked behind my ankles and it never makes me gag (although sometimes I might sputter, but you'd have to tell a heck of a knock knock joke).  It's pretty cheap, easy to come by, and has worked so well, that I think I might stick with it in 2011.

Reverb 10.18: Try.

December 18--What do you want to try next year?  Is there something you wanted to try in 2010?  What happened when you did/didn't go for it?

I am going to skip the second part of this question, except gloss it over really quickly with this statement: In 2010 I tried mostly at finishing school and finding and excelling in a fledgling career.  In all that chaos, I tried feverishly to hold tight to friendships changed by geography, new priorities, and a more 'adult' routine (oh, 9-5 life, you can make me so exhausted).  2010 was not a year of going out on a limb.  Rather it was a year of letting the tree grow just a little, but hanging pretty tightly to the roots.  

There's lots of things to try in 2011:

•  Saving money for experiences rather than things.
•  Keeping my things organized.  Keeping my time more organized.  
•  Complete triathlon #4 (maybe #5 too).
•  Run a 10K (that's 6.2 miles for you English-system lovers).  
•  Patience (but I probably give this up on January 6).
•  Eating mushrooms?  We'll see...

I bet there is a lot more to try in the 365 days that are about to come at me.  The biggest thing is to try not to say no to great opportunities.  Inhale every breath of adventure, soak up all the knowledge that is presented before me, and make the most of the good and bad in those around me.

Reverb 10.17: Lesson Learned.

December 17-- Lesson Learned.  What is the best lesson you learned about yourself this past year? And how will you apply that lesson going forward?


I am a tugboat.

Despite the rainy days or stormy seas, I have a job to do.  I am not an imposing presence, but I am adequate and surprisingly strong.  Some days the waves make it impossible to see the shore, but I know it is there.  Sometimes the rope between myself and the ships I guide becomes so taut it momentarily pulls me backward, out to sea.  But it never snaps or unravels.  And I always make it to dock.

Reverb 10.16: Friendship.

December 16-- How has a friend changed you or your perspective on the world this year?  Was the change gradual, or a sudden burst?


My friends have done something much more incredible this year; they have pulled off almost the miraculous.

The have changed my perspective of myself and yet left me wholly intact and still loving myself, maybe even more than before.

There's a glamorous side to having had the blessing to be successful in many of the things I have tried in life: the accomplishments.  And that's what those around you focus on; professors dote on you, employers promote you and talk about how fabulous you are as an employee and a member of the team.  You get awards and you win prizes and get to read your name in the paper and people talk about you.  You appear to be a never-ending chain of gold stars.

And there's a dark side to it: the pressure.  You inevitably become a robot to other people; someone with a perfect (or darn close) track record and suddenly not only is it unexpected that you would falter, it is not allowed.  Or at least, it feels that way.  So for most of my life, and it certainly still continues, I have worked to always be a success.  Successful at school, successful at work, successful in being happy, successful in getting my ducks in a row (or successful in making them appear so).  And it pays great dividends in all areas of life, including friendship.  And in my mind, no one wanted to be friends with a failure and I was so caught up in my life as someone successful that I didn't know what else I brought to a friendship rather than my accomplishments.  And best yet, I was even fairly accomplished at making and keeping friends.

In case you haven't picked up on the pervasive theme of my Reverb writing, 2010 was a beautiful but really tough year.  Big hurdles.  And many times I found myself not successful anymore.  I fell behind on my masters project more than once. I battled a somewhat serious lapse in mental health when insane pressure from school and saying goodbye to someone very important to me happened at the exact same time.  I have failed to find success in landing a permanent position in my field.  In fact, I have missed this success in exactly (checking email  records) 46 online applications, 4 mailed applications, 2 phone interviews, 1 personal interview, 12 rejection letters, and 2 rejection phone calls.  I have failed to find success in achieving true financial independence, but I think I might be too poor to "test the success waters."

An especially poignant memory of friends from this past year occurred right in the middle of the mental health lapse I mentioned.  A classmate was living in a beautiful home in small-town Wisconsin and over Spring Break several of us drove out there for a classic Irish St. Patrick's Day dinner, wine, perfect chats, and a old-fashioned slumber party.  For days up until this trip I had been terribly sad and terribly stressed.  I hadn't slept at all, I hadn't eaten well, I showered maybe once in four days and I am not sure I used soap.  The energy it took to just pack up and commit to go out there for one night was enormous.  I couldn't give my friends the focus they deserved; I hardly participated in anything more involved than nodding to their conversation while scratching the cat's belly.  I had totally checked out of my whole world.  And I noticed that that didn't bother them.  I told them what was going on, there may have been some tears, and they simply wrapped me up in a kind of support that said "You could do anything and this-- right here-- this is always going to exist."

And that sort of Aha! moment made me see the same in the other friendships I had.  And it didn't matter if I won first place, tripped over my feet all the way to the finish line, or simply said "Forget it.  I don't want to do this"*, all of my friends were really the truest sort and were going to forgive the little things and love me just the same.  And it allowed me to forgive the little things and love myself just the same.

It's not a different perspective on the world--I still feel horribly confused about the state of affairs on our orbiting ball.  But it's a different perspective on myself that will likely change my world and the way I act in it.

* Although, most of them know I would really never quit anything.

Reverb 10.15: 5 Minutes.

December 15-- 5 Minutes.  Imagine you will completely lose your memory of 2010 in five minutes.  Set an alarm for five minutes and capture the things you most want to remember about 2010. 

This list is not entirely comprehensive, as I only had 5 minutes for a heck of a year.  The last item is sort of a catch-all.

Best New Year's kick off ever (subsequent 4 day hangover/moviefest less fabulous, but still great story).  Graduation.  Tubing down the Apple River-- getting ridiculously sunburnt the first time and battling a thunderstorm and ultra-slow river the second.  Golden birthday celebration.  Roomies' birthday celebrations.  Break up celebrations.  Celebrations.  The rush of relief upon hearing "You have finished your Masters of Public Health with no revisions to your final paper."  Selling my artwork.  Beautiful weddings.  Excited phone calls from some of my most favorite people announcing their engagements.  Recently, a Snowmaggedon/Tsnownami/Snowpacolypse. A big kid job and then a bigger kid promotion.  Excelling at that job and starting to make a teeny tiny name for myself.  Happy. 

Reverb 10.14: Appreciate.

December 14-- Appreciate.  What's the one thing you have come to appreciate the most in the past year?  How do you express gratitude for it?

This one's easy: Coffee maker. Next question.


Just kidding (sort of).

I actually was thinking about this prompt yesterday while I was at work.* I was in a meeting with most of the people in branch (one level up from my team/division) and not surprisingly, it was all women. There are approximately 65 people in our department and about 6 men. Such is the typical make up of public health.

What I noticed in this group, moreso than I had noticed in my co-workers before, was that this was a group of very smart, dedicated women. Every one of us at the table had worked hard to get where she is, has immense passion for what she does, and contributes in a meaningful way to the health of her community and the overall wellness of the people around her. We were also discussing the budget issues crisis absolute disaster sinkhole Minnesota will be facing this session and how, right now, our departmnet budget is intact and semi-stable but how cuts in other areas (education, transportation, housing) will likely impact the work we do. I loved being a part of this roundtable of bright women who are politically active, engaged in their community and engaging in conversation, and that's is when it hit me what I have remembered to appreciate most this year: strong women.

Given the personalities of the women in my family, I think "strong woman" was a behavior and personality type modeled before me from a very early age. But it can be easy to lose sight of that as we travel through life, particularly the young adult years, where feminine behavior seems be regarded as more important and 'becoming' on a lady.

Luckily, my year has been absolutely filled to the brim of strong women. There's the other fabulous ladies in my masters program who were instrumental fibers in the safety net of support I built for myself while also busting their butts to complete their own studies. My project advisory committee included two women who I respect like mad for the things they had accomplished, the way they faced their own lives with incredible balance, and reminded me that no project and no degree is worth losing sight of who I am and not worth (too many) sleepless nights and temper tantrums. And I already gushed about my workplace, but I honestly can't turn a corner in the office without running in to a woman I admire greatly. And of course, the women in my family continue to remind me that I am just one in a long legacy of independent, strong-willed, and frankly, brilliant, women. My mom-- she's beautifully human and not at all ashamed about it; she's everyone's rock.**

The best way to show gratitude for these women/role models/superheroes of my world is to continue the tradition. To show through my actions and accomplishments that their influence on me has been great and I plan to do remarkable things with what I have learned from their example. Watch out, world.



* I was multitasking, not daydreaming.
** One sentence, and then tears. See? Overly emotional. All the time.

Reverb 10.13: Action.

December 13-- Action.  When it comes to aspirations, it's not about ideas.  It's about making ideas happen.  What's your next step?

Well, it's a little about ideas. I have to have some ideas about where I'm going and how I want to get there. Getting there by train, plane, or automobile will look much different than traveling via my own bipedal power.

I don't know entirely where I am going. I have some places I would like to go (the usual: permanent job, my own apartment, new-to-me car, big friendly dog), but I know putting all those ideas in a basket when you're not feeling terribly close to any one of them is a bit like planning an oceanliner cruise when all you can really afford is a dinghy on a trout pond.

I have noticed that some of the 'action' I have wanted to take in the past, but for some reason could not master, has sort of fallen into place in the last few months. While my personal space is still a total disaster, I am a much more organized person. I am capable of getting things done (and on time), and I making time to be responsible. I even started paying more attention to my personal budget. It's not a sexy, dreamy "change your life and write a book about it" action, but it is changing my life in a little but needed way. For people who are chronically responsible, I imagine that it is shocking to you to discover that some of us don't learn/utilize these skills until 24.

As I write this, the task list on my new phone is chastising me for being tardy on a task with an arbitrary deadline I set for myself. It just asked, "How about it, Tiger? Are you ready to get started?"

The somewhat, maybe a little, kinda "sexy, dreamy" action I would like to take next year is working a little more on marketing and selling my artwork. I get nervous about this; I don't really know (objectively) if I am actually any good and I have no idea if anyone besides my friends will buy it. But I have nearly saturated the friend market, and I really want to continue. I also get nervous about making something I love into something I do to earn money. I don't ever want art to feel like "work." After the new year, I am planning on starting by putting a few items up on Etsy, try and figure out what a fair price is (it is certainly not what I have been charging-- everyone is getting deals deals deals outta me), and figure out if I can carve out a corner of a new market for myself. This will also require me to learn how to ship very large canvases (assuming someone buys something). I look forward to that challenge!

Reverb 10.12: Body Integration.

December 12-- Body Integration.  This year, when did you feel the most integrated with your body? Did you have a moment where there wasn't mind and body, but simply a cohesive you, alive and present?


Gosh, it is such a pain in the ass when your alarm goes off in the morning and you wake up to find that your body has been doing it's own thing for the last few hours, stumbling about without guidance and direction, making messes and bruises galore.  Worse yet when you find yourself on the train after a long day at work, and have misplaced your mind completely.  

Hmmm.  Perhaps I am missing something here.  Am I living an overly integrated life?

My mind and body are not two independent entities that work apart from one another and occasionally sit down to a tea party to discuss the ways in which they could work together more efficiently.  They are two functions of a whole; the cohesive me.

I can make changes to the way my body feels, moves, and looks by making decisions to eat this (or not) and go for a run (or not).  My mind is healthier and happier when my body gets a chance to move and when it tastes the nectars of fresh fruits and vegetables.  They are far from independent, and in fact are highly interdependent.  They do not need to work to integrate; they were designed to be a partnership and it works on an instinctual level.

There is always a cohesive me.

Reverb 10.11: 11 Things.

December 11-- What are 11 things your life doesn't need in 2011?  How will you go about eliminating them?  How will getting rid of these things change your life?


There is a lot the world doesn't need in 2011 (in no particular order):

1.  Religious (or any other) intolerance
2.  Violence against girls and women
3.  Child soldiers
4.  Inadequate clean water supplies to most of the world's impoverished
5.  Corporate corruption
6.  Hate crime
7.  Hunger
8.  Fear of one's own government
9.  Preventable diseases killing hundreds because of lack of health care and lack of clean living conditions
10.  Sexual violence as a weapon of war and means of control
11.  Blame

The things I don't need?  Well, they're just things...

Reverb 10.10: Wisdom.

December 10-- Wisdom.  What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out?

You have a drawer full of unmatch socks from which you have managed to free one black sock. Now, in a fury of flying stockings, you are frantically digging for the other black sock, brushing your teeth, still pulling your pants on the rest of the way and cursing those extra nine minutes of awful sleep you took the liberty of allowing yourself.

My wise choices are the other black sock: elusive in a big assortment of bad choices, neutral choices, and well-that-was-fun-but-let's-not-ever-do-it-agains.

2010 has a clear pair of black socks: applying for a summer internship with a local health department and getting a gym membership.

I starting looking and applying for jobs in March, knowing that things were a bit slow and for a lot of organizations that I would be interested in working with, grant dollars would be uncertain and limited. The idealist almost-grad in me (almost Master!) was holding out for the high paying full-time, permanent positions that I knew had to be out there. So when I saw the posting for a summer internship in public health preparedness for a local health department, I glossed right over it. I had convinced myself I was beyond interning and part time jobs and no financial security. As the job search got bleaker and bleaker and more classmates and professors sent me the same job notice with "Perfect for you!" in the subject line, I decided to take a stab and sent in a roughshod resume and cover letter.

Two weeks later I interviewed. Two days later I was hired for the three month summer internship with no benefits, but actually pretty good pay. Today, I have finished my first week in a promoted position with the same department. Still no benefits, still a temporary position (ending next July). But that is still 8 more months on top of the 6 previous months of gauranteed employment and experience. Invaluable to a young professional. And I got a pay raise, which could not have come soon enough as I stare down the barrel of beginning my student loan repayment next month.

The matching wise decision I made this year was to purchase a gym membership. To run.

I get on a bicycle now and then, and I occasionally dip my toes in the pool. I have even treated my lovely self to 20 minutes in the eucalyptus sauna.

But I really go to run. And of its contribution to my health and well being 20% is physical and 80% is mental. I have discussed previously how emotionally intense I can be, and I once mathematically characterized it to a friend who couldn't quite understand where I was coming from. Imagine you can experience/feel any emotion on a spectrum, let's say from 1 to 10. 1 being a slight recognition that there is a feeling, but it is so faint you aren't even sure what emotion it is. 10 being feeling every emotion via some physical manifestation; pain when I am angry or sad, restlessnes when I am joyful or scared, and fatigue when I am sad or frustrated. I would venture to guess that most people can feel emotion at all levels of the spectrum, depending on the situational context.

I am only capable of 1, 2, and 10. And 1 & 2 is like what I buzz along in when I am in traffic. Or at my cube. So anything that elicits any actual emotion in me is experienced at a 10. Every time. And that is exhausting, even when it's good emotion. And you can't operate at a 10 all the time, so instead you either sleep so as to feel nothing or you share the burden with other people, which can be distressing and exhausting for them. Running lets me leave a lot of that on trail/track/treadmill. It is the great mental and emotional equalizer; it allows me to calm down, to think about things rationally, and evaluate before I pull people into the storm.

Every pounding footstep pushes down fear and anger, every drip of sweat washes away sadness and stress, and the constant motion allows me to appropriately use up the energy that joy and nervousness build up inside me. For 35 bucks a month, I get some awesome mental health benefits, with some physical health fringe benefits. If I didn't run, I would likely have to pay someone 35 bucks an hour for the same results!

Reverb 10.9: Party.

December 9-- Party.  What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010?  Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans.

Oooh! I do so love a good party!

2010 has been kind of a fete-filled year and with so much cause for celebration. It's certainly hard to pick a favorite: I loved celebrating a close friend's wedding to a man who adores her in one of the most beautiful and elaborate weddings I have ever seen. I loved eating dinner with my family at my favorite Dinkytown haunt, the Loring Pasta Bar, after graduation. I loved the intimacy of sharing a glass of wine with my high school best friend after I defended my Masters in October. She has now been through 4 of my graduations (if you count Masters defense as it's own-- which I think it deserves). I loved being able to wish someone well as they took a great step forward on their journey, even if I hated the goodbye. I loved the raucousness and craziness of New Years, bachelorette parties, and birthdays. I loved the hangovers less.

I love the clinking glass of a good "Cheers!", whether it is between myself and one other person or a roomful of friends and strangers alike. There is simply so much worth celebrating.

In 2010 I celebrated my Golden Birthday and that, for me, was the best fete of the year. I bought myself a new black dress with gold detailing around the neckline and down the front of dress. I bedazzled my fingers and toes with a nail polish aptly named "Gilty Pleasure." I made reservations for dinner for 20 at my favorite Uptown haunt, Stella's Fish Cafe and we had a delicious dinner appetizers, seafoods, and soups. I blew out the candles on a Transformers-themed DQ ice cream cake and carried the figurines in my faux-snake skin purse for the rest of the evening. The night was not terribly wild and crazy; it was just some of my closest friends visiting my favorite bars in the neighborhood I had grown to love in the previous 14 months and would be leaving (heavy-hearted) the following afternoon. I had my first booze-infused milkshake and sipped on a Minnesota Nice. I inhaled a beautiful summer view of Minneapolis from the buzzing rooftop bars. It was entirely blissful.

I had a lot going on at that time. I was still working feverishly to finish my Masters project while trying to be a model employee in my internship and look for full time, permanent work. I was moving away from the women and the neighborhood I adored because it was the right and responsible financial decision. But for that night, all I had to worry about was relishing that I had survived another year, I had good friends that loved me, and whether or not my glass was full.

It was so fun, in fact, I am thinking about having a birthday again next year.

Reverb 10.8: Beautifully Different.

December 8-- Beautifully Different. Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different and you'll find they're what make you beautiful.

As a young(er) woman, I think I got a little caught up in the common mindset that beauty equals perfection. When you had achieved physical perfection (as defined by a very unclear, semi-unrealistic set of standards) and could do everything and be everything to everyone, then you were beautiful. And it turns out, attempting that and inevitably failing, is exhausting. Sorry Chaka Khan/Whitney Houston, I'm not every woman.

Happily, I can report that at the infinitely wise age of 24, there are a million things I haven't learned and that I don't do well (yet), but I have learned to recognize that I am beautiful. And further, I have recognized that it's not immodest to know that I am beautiful and to act with the confidence and poise of a beautiful woman.

Let's pretend that junior high never happened, am I right, ladies and gentlemen? There was very little about my awkwardly morphing (and yet still chubby) body, my good (but occasional backstabbing) group of friends, or the fact that I was smart and did well in school that screamed 'beauty' to my junior high self.

The earnest journey towards discovering my beauty really started when I arrived in Fargo, North Dakota as a wide-eyed and semi-panicked freshman at North Dakota State University. As the mature 'adult' I thought I was at hardly 18 years old, I was determined to take all the best parts of me and fashion them into the young woman I really wanted to be. She looked sort of like a mix of Oprah Winfrey, Katie Couric, and Mother Theresa, except probably a little sassier and less organized.

And then I fell for this boy. And the independent, strong woman in me cringes at the idea of giving any mere man credit for anything I have done, particularly a journey so focused on self-discovery. But the honest, realistic woman in me knows that our relationships give dividends far greater than our investment, including the opportunity to look at ourselves the way someone else sees us. And for the first time, I really looked at myself through the perspective of someone who thought smart was sexy, saw my creativity as true talent, and understood that my rare occasional somewhat frequent emotional outbursts (whether it was manic joy, crushing devastation, or red-hot anger) were simply part of being human and he tolerated me with patience and grace, the two qualities I most severely lack and most desperately need a partner. Above all, that relationship taught me that I deserve to be treated well, especially by the men who are lucky enough to capture my attention. It also taught me that those things that I was most self-conscious about were the best parts about me because they weren't perfect (yet) and my flaws were the most human part of me.

The journey towards discovering beauty within myself didn't end on the same crisp, fall day that that relationship 'ended'.* It actually intensified, as I was left (and now feeling a bit alone) to redefine my adult self without that other person reminding me of all that I had accomplished, all I was capable of, and how fantastic I looked in a black dress with heels. I was going to be responsible for my own self-assurance and for maintaining my own confidence.

And it turns out that wasn't so hard (although, I will give College Boyfriend some serious credit for helping to lay the foundation). And I could probably list for you several things I think are beautiful about myself: the ability to feel emotion super intensely, to talk to anyone about anything, to recognize that, sometimes, the one thing I need is my famous one woman dance party, an undying desire to give more, and some wicked blue eyes and out of control curly hair. But, like most things, the journey to beautiful has been much more meaningful.

Occasionally I pick up on hints that some of my friends might be in the throes of their very own journey to beautiful, and I hope that my openness and honesty about truly feeling beautiful and love love loving my flaws is shedding some light on their journey as well. And this is not to suggest that my journey is over, by any means. It is a constantly evolving process of learning to first accept and then appreciate the things and situations and people that were not as you expected or wanted them to be. When I let go of my expectations of things, they often turn out better than I could have imagined. And when I let go of the expectations of myself, I am turning out better than I imagined!


*It didn't really end, but simply officially became what it was turning into for some time, which was a ridiculously supportive and fabulous friendship.

Reverb 10.7: Community.

Still waiting for Reverb 10 to lob a meatball prompt sometime in the near future. Something super simple, like "What was your favorite color in 2010?" Any my response would be "Yellow. Duh." Nice and easy, not something that I think about all night, no epic drafts/edits/rewrites. Nothing that makes me question the year I have had.

"What's wrong with orange, Katie? Why didn't you really love orange this year? Are you giving orange a chance? Maybe you need to focus some more time on orange... you could be surrounding yourself with other yellow lovers and never really experiencing a full spectrum of colors and their fans."

Well, maybe I can lull myself into guilt about nearly any topic. Gosh, I am so talented.

Today's prompt, however, still has me somewhat totally stumped.

December 7-- Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create, or more deeply connect with in 2011?

I don't know that I belong in any ultra-formal 'communities' with things like rules for membership, expectations of members, dues, and all that other organizational hoopla other than my friends (Rules for Membership: You are fabulous, sometimes funny, mostly genuine, can make and/or eat good food and hold your liquor) and family (Dues: More than financial, pop up at surprising times, and a yet a worthwhile investment in the people who know you best).

There have been numerous times this year, however, that I have had that sense of belonging that comes from being a part of a whole, even if it isn't a well-defined entity. I felt a sense of community amongst the dedicated group of men and women who were all working diligently towards the completion of our Masters degrees. I feel a sense of community with people I talk to who have recently graduated, and like me are a little at a loss for what to do now (even if we have jobs. This transition is the biggest culture shock I have experienced to date). I am beginning to sneak my way into the local public health preparedness professionals community, and even though I still have a lot to learn and a long way to go, I think I am getting a pretty good start.

When I participate in [insert any running/multisport event you can think of here], there is a strong sense of community and belonging. On the morning of a race, you ARE a runner/triathlete and there is a collective prayer for safety and well-being of everyone on the course, a collective heartbreak when someone is injured, and collective triumph when the last racer crosses the finish line.

And then there are the silly little things that contribute to community everywhere you go: the cashier and barista at Caribou know my name*, the sandwich shop in the skyway knows my order (Grilled Ham/Cheese/Tomato Sandwich and a bowl of Tomato Soup, medium soda), the people at the gym ask me how my workout is going, fellow commuters on the train make small talk on the crowded evening rides home, the neighbors wave from their driveway or bring over homemade jams/breads/streudels**.

Community, for me, is more than a little difficult to perfectly define. But that sense of belonging is easy to feel and I've definitely got some of that goin' for me!


Oh, also, in 2011 I would like to be the 6th Planeteer.  Don't know what that is?  You clearly were not, or did not have a, child in the 80s/90s.  Google: Captain Planet and the Planeteers.  Current Planeteers include Earth, Wind, Fire, Water, and Heart so I would like to make a bid to be Logic.  I think we could solve quite a few more problems with a little of that.


* The barista even knew I usually ordered soy and one day I ordered Skim (whoa! things getting a little craaaazy at the coffee shop) and she panicked that the cashier had rung it incorrectly and it might make me sick if I had the dairy. Turns out, I just think soy milk tastes really fabulous in a latte.

**Helllloooooo, awesome neighbs!

Reverb 10.6: Make.

December 6-- Make.  What was the last thing you made?  What materials did you use?  Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it? 

I am simultaneously two personality types that can overwhelm and frustrate many people: right-brained and extroverted. And both to a bit of an extreme. Every day I exhibit all of the bad habits and traits of a right-brainer: a penchant towards random thought, a pervasive inattention to detail, thought and decision-making processes driven by strong emotion.

Pair that with an extroversion that I call ‘charming’-- but I think most people might call ‘abrasive’-- and you get a winning combination of sentences that get interrupted by another story of a completely different topic, projects that get started (without any planning) but never finished, and an intense need to discuss things from all possible viewpoints and consider every possible outcome, with a particular focus on how things make me feel. Not to mention the absolutely insane chattiness.

It took me a long time to realize that not everyone operated within the right-brained and extroverted worldviews that I experience every day, and I was accepting of that. It takes all kinds, after all. But I never considered that my extroversion or the grandiose and flighty thoughts that characterize my right-brained operation could be a problem for people until a fateful day in Barnes & Noble Booksellers. I was lost, on my way to something (but I probably thought of something else to look at and forgot my original plan completely—if there had even been a plan at all). I found myself in the Parenting/Self-Help section filled with books on how to make your baby an Einstein and what to do with a picky eater. I glanced over to catch the title of one of the books, proudly splashed down a bright yellow book spine that was likely designed to make parents feel happy and light about their problem demons children.

“How to Deal with Your Extroverted Child.” Deal with? Deal with?! There is nothing to ‘deal with’. . . is there?

Apparently there is. 33 chapters of ‘deal with’ in that book. I was appalled. Clearly, this book had been ordered by Barnes & Noble by mistake, as it clearly was not written by any respectable leading social science researcher with 4 post-grad degrees and over 25 years of researching and working with children. . .

But my astonishment turned a bit to horror as I starting reading the titles of the books neighboring this blasphemous text—a whole shelf on dealing with your extroverted nightmare child. How disruptive they are going to be but “as a diligent parent you must continue to work to teach them the appropriate way to act in society.” And there were titles on right-brained children too! "How to Help Your Right-Brained Child Be Successful."  As if they were incapable of achieving their own success simply because they thought a little outside the box. Or planet. Two and a half rows jam-packed with chapters and pages and diagrams on dealing with your wacky, freethinking kid that won’t just shut the hell up.

I was 20 years old when I saw these. And honestly, temporarily heartbroken. I clearly exhibited the traits (and fit the descriptions down to the last word) of the kids parents struggled with most, outside of the diagnosable learning and socialization challenges.


(I bet at this point you are wondering what the hell this has to do with the Day 6 Reverb 10 prompt. Clearly you need to get on the right-brain train, friend. It always comes back around to the topic—it just takes time.)


The intensely creative part of being right-brained has led me to create and make a lot of things. This year I designed my own holiday cards, I designed a photo book for the fabulous women I lived with last year, I sold about a half dozen of my paintings, I sketched and doodled and blogged and photogged.

This weekend I had the fantastic opportunity to catch up with a group of friends I hadn’t seen in a while.

And I made people laugh. Hard. Great big belly laughs and tears streaming out the corners of eyes. Because I am outgoing. And creative. And I have flighty thought and I say random things and I am goofy. That’s a pretty awesome superpower that I wouldn't trade for anything, even if it meant losing all of my other creative and artistic talent.  And I think I will set aside some more time to make more laughter. Yes, that would be good.

Reverb 10.5: Let Go.

December 5-- Let Go.  What (or whom) have you let go this year? Why?

Please (Resist the Temptation to) Take A Number.  Finish high school and go to college (take a number).  Finish college and enroll in graduate school (take a number).  Draw out completion of Masters project past graduation date (take a number).  Work a post-grad internship (take a number).  Move in to your sister's basement spare bedroom (take a number).  And then wait.  

For a long time I kept saying, to myself and to others, "You know. . . when my 'real life' starts."  

Because I had decided (and then was trying to convince myself) that because I wasn't exactly where I thought I would be in life at 18 (or 20 or 21 or 23 or 24) years old, that things would change when I actually started 'real life.'  

This year, I emptied all the paper tabs out of my pockets, dug them out from between the few (but adequate) bills in my wallet, threw them into the air like Times Square New Year's confetti, and I got the heck out of line.  

I have let go of waiting for my 'real life' to start.  Mostly because it was a stupid idea to wait in the first place.  

Knock knock, puddin' head, this is your real life and while you wait for things to get perfect/cookie-cutter/easy/pretty/sugar-coated/ideal, life is marching right along.  Without you. 

My real life is not my dream job, but it is a really good job where I work with people who care about me professionally and personally and are investing as much into my continuing education and training as I am.

My real life is a little stress about finances, second guessing purchases, sometimes splurging, but lots of effort saving.  

My real life is making mistakes in relationships, learning when to let friendships go after they have turned sour or simply faded, and knowing when to hold tightly to those who are simply irreplaceable.

My real life is not foolishly waiting for things to change, (naively) assuming that change will only be positive. 

My real life is happening.  And I am not standing in line for another minute.  

Reverb 10.4: Wonder.

December 4-- Wonder.  How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year? 


I waited all night for this Reverb 10 prompt to be posted, so excited to start thinking about what I was going to write next, and yet too tired to actually start typing.  As I drifted into a week's end sleep with the Minnesota winter tucking me in under a fast-falling, thick blanket of snow I thought I would certainly have no problem writing this post.  This morning, upon waking to the sunrise over the world refreshed, I realized I had no idea what wonder really was.

Every time I tried to invoke what inspired wonder this past year, I kept replaying the questions that have doggedly followed me, in various forms.

I wonder if I can finish my Masters project on time?


I wonder if I am doing this right?


I wonder if this internship will turn into a permanent position?


I wonder why I am not getting called back after applying for jobs?


I wonder if I will ever move into my own place?


I wonder if I am saving enough money?


I wonder if I shouldn't have bought that?


The funny thing, is that those (grammatically, at least) aren't actually questions.  To say I wonder about something should be a statement, but the question mark is more telling than my occasional struggle with proper grammar.  This type of wondering is not the "moment of inspiring awe triggered by an expansion of one's awareness of what is possible" that this prompt is likely getting at.  What I have expressed is doubt dressed in wonder's clothing through the clever way humans have used language as a weapon against themselves to mask our fears and uncertainties.   


It is not the true reality that no moment has inspired wonder in me this year, but have I actively worked to cultivate it?  Well, not really.  Because I have been fairly busy actively working to cultivate meaningful work and income and cultivate my relationships.  Because those things, particularly my bond with family and close friends, are encouraging me to work through the prevalent doubt/wonder I have experienced this year.

Sometimes not everything inspires life changing wonder.  Sometimes things are just good.  And that's enough.

Reverb 10.3: Moment.

December 3-- Moment.  Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year.  Describe it in vivid detail (textures, smells, voices, noises, colors). 

My 'moment' this year came a mere 1 hour, 36 minutes after I was quite convinced I was closest to death.  And perhaps I was, at the time, blowing things a bit out of proportion.  However, finding oneself in the middle of a cold lake, not terribly confident in one's own ability to actually swim long-ish distances, plus the added challenge of attempting to avoid many heel-to-face contacts between oneself and the 50 or so other swimmers, all eyes trained on a piece of the beach that looks like a postage stamp in the distance.  Despite feeling that my sinking to the bottom of Pike Lake near Duluth, MN was not a statistical probability but a infallible certainty, my feet finally grazed and took a firm step on the sandy lake bed which turned out to be the first step towards a moment of almost shocking mental clarity. 

That clarity came as I crossed the finish line of the 2010 Brewhouse Triathlon, after completing a near death swim, a flat and uneventful bike, and a run that started with a 1 mile uphill slope.  But the moment was really about 25 minutes in the making, starting when I hung my bright red Bianchi bicycle back on the chaotic rack in the athlete transition zone and let my feet groove to the pavement, proudly donning the neon blue Nike Pegasus running shoe I had personally designed just for events like this. 

I started triathlons in 2009 and I would only describe myself as a triathlete in the very loosest of the terms: one who has completed at least one triathlon of any distance.  I have completed three, so I think I can at least entertain the idea of wearing the title on occasion.   It's sort of amazing that I continue to do these events, considering that my interest was borne out of a young passion and commitment to running, and I harbor a general fear/disdain of swimming and overall apathetic view of athletic bicycling.  So by the time I finish the swim and bike portions (always the first two events), I am relieved to finally be back on terra firma.  It's a little like that warm feeling you get when you return home after a vacation and say to yourself, "That was fun, but this is where I belong best." 

Running, for me, is the great stress reliever.  There have been days in the last year where I have been sitting in a class or in a meeting or stuck at a computer and thought, "I cannot wait to hit the lake trails or hop on the treadmill."  Really.  I think best in motion; it forces me to say things to myself I cannot say when I am busy transitioning between obligations, and it allows me to think all the way through the depths of a situation.  It is peaceful.  Running also allows me to feel life physically.  I run fast and hard when I am angry, I flit and bounce along the trail when I am overjoyed, sometimes I run up a large hill triumphantly and other days I say "Oh hell no" and turn around.  There are many everyday experiences that are much akin to a runner's burning lungs or throbbing legs and of course those moments that you have simply gone too far and are receiving a sharp, stabbing reminder of your own limitations in you side.

On the day of the Brewhouse Triathlon, I turned out of the transition zone to face a mild upward slope and those long but gentle hills are deceiving.  They tell your brain "Look how small I am.  I will simply lead you to a higher elevation."  But they tell your thighs (after swimming and biking and overall constant motion and abuse for an hour already) "This shit isn't easy, and frankly I don't think you have the muscle fibers necessary to climb this goddamn hill."  In turn, your brain is saying to you "Look, isn't this nice and pleasant?  The scenery is fabulous" while your legs say "Turn around! Turn around!  Stop this! This is madness!!"  I may or may not be a triathlete, but I am not a quitter.  Sorry, thighs.  And that thought kept replaying through my head-- after a school year in which I cried myself through more than one term paper, had a complete breakdown in my car after a Saturday morning final exam, had my academic integrity challenged, fought battle after battle towards the completion of my Masters project, and was finding it difficult to secure full-time, permanent employment-- I still had not quit.  And 2.6 goddamn miles (half of which had now become an excrutiating uphill) were not going to have the satisfaction of breaking my resolve. 

And shortly after crossing that finish line, I stuffed approximately 5 doughnut holes covered in the most satisfying powdered sugar I have ever tasted into my mouth at once and swished it around with a big swig of orange juice (because to the victor goes the gastrointestinal spoils!).

And nothing makes me feel alive like a mouthful of doughnut holes.

Reverb 10.2: Writing.

December 2 – Writing. What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it? (Author: Leo Babauta)

A bit of a discouraging prompt for Day 2, maybe.  Only because I have never really identified myself as a writer and I feel like this prompt is geared towards those that do.  But I do write.   

If I am to answer this question honestly, most of my writing showcased here, save the analytical writing I do at work.  And here, the fuel for my writing is my life.  The things I am doing when I am not ticka-typing away do not take away from writing, but rather stoke the fire.  Things are funny at work? Write about it!  Feeling too chubby? Write about it!  Have a creative idea rolling around your head that just won't go away? Write about it!

I could probably write more often and I have noticed a decrease in my blog posts since finishing school (sorry), but I think part of that was a bit of a temporary identity crisis.  Until October 19, 2010 I had always been a student.  And I started this blog in the throes of a grueling graduate program.  Who was I now that I wasn't a student?  And would I still be who my readers were expecting?  

Well, I hope I am not always what you were expecting. That's no fun.  

And for the second part of the question, could I eliminate what keeps me from my writing?  Eliminate my life?  

Yeah, no thanks.