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.

Reverb 10.1: One Word.

December 1 – One Word. Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you? (Author: Gwen Bell)
Growth. 

To say that the year has been overall positive or overall negative isn't easy to do, especially because I imagine anything could happen in the next 29 days. Sort of like anything has happened in the the string of '29 days' that have made up 2010. But there is a consistent beauty in a year that has been full of new adventures, momentous firsts, happy endings mixed with heartbreaking losses, the total and complete experience of 'all good things must come to an end,' and the multitude of injuries that have been inflicted on my physical, mental, and emotional self. That consistency is the opportunity to grow. Because we can't always control what happens to us, but we can control what we do next-- how we choose to react, the way we choose to think about everything and, maybe more importantly, how we choose to think about ourselves.

And overall, this year I am proud of myself. I completed my Masters degree from a school that is one of the top institutions in its field. With a 3.9 GPA. I landed my dream internship that has extended well beyond the initial 3 months promised, and on Monday will become a long-term temp position which provides more stability and a little more pay than the internship. And overall continues to be a safe place to learn, gain experience, and work creatively with people I have grown to love as colleagues and as friends. I completed 2 triathlons, a ride/run race (up and down ski slopes, I might add), various 5Ks, and I played in my first slowpitch softball rec league. I have worked hard to be a more authentic friend and that change is not always easy; it sometimes means saying no to people you adore and saying things that are blunt/honest (I have a difficult discerning and delivering the difference) and not expected by the listener.

Adventure.

2011 is going to be a great year. After all, the last 24 years have sort of established a status quo of great years. But if 2010 was a bit of a rebuilding year, figuring out where to go next and how to use the tools and experiences I had spent so long cultivating, 2011 is going to be about taking all of that to the next level. Pushing myself out of my comfort zone to continue to try new things with joy and curiosity. Regard novel moments with the awe they deserve and bask in the warmth of the beautiful relationships in my life. And maybe do something a little crazy. Maybe.

Introducing: Reverb 10

I am clearly all in to series of things lately.  A reading list, workout plans, etc etc.  So it made sense to take on another, no?

In my epic quest to just keep up with all that is going on in the wide world of social networking, I noticed an interesting little trend/hash-tag: #reverb10.  Usually I don't have ANY idea what hash-tags refer to, and this of course was no exception.  But for some reason, I started clicking on the shortened links that peppered my Twitter list (perhaps this is referred to as a Twist?).  And there was some super insightful writing going on out there, all sharing a common, high-trending hash-tag.

What is a semi-savvy social networker to do when she just cannot verify the source of a trend?  Google it.  And I came upon Reverb 10's website, which explains the project as this:

Reverb 10 is an annual event and online initiative to reflect on your year and manifest what’s next. Use the end of your year as an opportunity to reflect on what's happened, and to send out reverberations for the year ahead. With Reverb 10 - and the 31 prompts our authors have created for you - you'll have support on your journey.

A little more digging leads one to discover that this is a daily writing project for the month of December which gives the writer, and their readers (lucky ducks!) a chance to reflect on the year that is quickly closing and get all psyched up for the year that's coming (because it is on it's way whether we like it or not).

Frankly, this sounds awesome to me for a whole bundle of reasons:

• I am a reflector.  Not the shiny "hey car, see me because I am running in the dark" kind.  A guess a better word might be storyteller.  Because telling stories about what I have done and what I am doing now allows me to reflect on my choices and the events I have been involved in and how those have absolutely instilled in me a desire to change by improving on decisions, making some decisions again and again and again, and remember some decisions simply because they should not be repeated in this lifetime.  Or the next.  Or the one after that either.  
• Believe it or not, blogging is hard.  I know I make it look pretty easy, if I do say so myself, but it's more than sitting down to your computer and bitching about all the injustices in your life (although, that's about 50% of the battle right there).  And its difficulty and complexity are intensified by the fact that you may know who some of your readers are, but certainly not all.  And further, you don't know which posts they've liked, which they've hated, do they like pictures, are links their thing?  No one shares this.  And it appears from my statistics that I have 7 RSS subscribers (thanks!) and approximately 30 site visitors a week (you should subscribe!).  But I know who very few of you are.  Long bullet short, a month of writing prompts means that, theoretically, I can't pick the wrong topic and you can't be disappointed.  We are driven by a higher power (i.e. the Reverb 10 prompts) this month.  

So, currently there have been two prompts posted.  I am going to try and play catch up now, especially because I have a busy weekend coming up and don't know if I will have much of a chance then and if I waited that long, I could end up 5 days behind instead of just 2.  Which would satisfy my procrastinating soul but would not really stay true to the mission of Reverb 10, which is a daily reflection to find calm about your year.  

I encourage everyone to think about these prompts, and even if you don't choose to publish them for the whole internet to stumble upon, write them in a journal, on a napkin, or find "an app for that." 

Okay, let's get on with the show.