I am judgmental. It is a knee-jerk reaction. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t this way, but I can remember a time when I didn’t try to harness it. It may be a natural human emotion, but early in my twenties, when I really began learning about the world and people, I began seeing this judgmental feeling for what it was: immature. So, I try to do better, to not make assumptions, and to give people a chance. After all, this is what I want done for me, isn’t it? It makes sense, it is more kind, it is what love would do.

It is also hard.

In fact, the hardest part may be that when you find yourself being judgmental, and you’ve been practicing a while to not be, you discover it is rooted in fear. Mine, in particular, is rooted in compartmentalization, and my own fear that makes compartmentalizing necessary; I am not inadequate when I distinguish our differences. But when I consciously erase the lines, put every thing and everyone into the one large picture that is reality, the fear is obvious. It is vulnerable and glaring. I realize, over and over again, that the problem really isn’t judgment, the problem is me.

The most prominent example of this in my life is yoga classes. The thing about yoga is, it is different for everyone. Every person is on their own path and point in their progress and accomplishment. It is a metaphor for life, really. A reminder that though we are so very similar, we are also individuals not to be compared. Our strengths and weaknesses are what makes us whole, not better or worse than another. Certainly not to be judged by another. And yet there are always those people my mind quickly jumps to judge. I think many people who’ve worked out in a group setting can identify with this. There is always something there challenging your peace, your ability to fully be in the moment. It might be what they’re wearing, it might be a noise they make, maybe it’s even their presence. Look, I know I can annoy someone with only a glance, and so it shouldn’t be a surprise that someone else can also do that to me, even unknowingly.

In a few of the classes I attend there’s always one or two people who are… overachievers. Or at least that is what I was calling them in my mind. As someone who doesn’t generally set out to do things I won’t do well, this is hard. Because in years of practicing yoga, it still challenges me in a lot of ways. Yes, that is what it is meant to do. YES, that is the metaphor I mentioned earlier. We are allowed to be growing– that is the point. But in my mind I saw these people who pop up easily into a handstand, and do poses that I’ve never even heard the name of with such ease as something that makes me angry. Or, they don’t do any of these things well but they act as if they do, and that makes me irritated. Honestly, where do I get off? I know.

Yes, the problem is me. But whenever the problem is me, I know the solution is always me. I believe that is one of the greatest gifts we are given, to be resourceful enough to resolve our own problems, even if they are cloaked in fear and pain and the assumed annoying presence of other people. So a few weeks ago in a class, I decided to not try to avoid these annoying people, but to absorb them instead. I decided to stare at these women, with their muscular bodies and always perfectly coordinating clothing, and really take in what they are. There is a lot of beauty in an annoying stranger, it turns out.

And, dammit, there is a lot to learn.

Instead of seeing someone who I’d only created in my mind, I saw someone who I only knew through their physical presence. I don’t know this woman’s past, I don’t know the sound of her voice or if she has pets or children or a home, even. I only know what I see: a woman who can move through a space in a room with other people, often quite beautifully. A woman whom I can watch and learn something from to then better move through my space in this room. Once I saw that, I realized I had made this person me. I had made her human. And since I know what it is to be human, I have to assume she does too. Since I know the mixture of fear and pain and lessons and beauty I’ve endured, I have to assume she does too.

Wouldn’t you know it, once I began absorbing these people into myself, caring about what we were to each other in only that moment, my experience became astoundingly more peaceful. I smile more. I talk to more people, I introduce my friends to more people. We have bigger, more involved conversations in the locker room. They are not annoying people. They are me. And I am them. No one is out, we are all in. It’s nice in here.

He drew a circle that shut me out-
Heretic , rebel, a thing to flout.
But love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle and took him In!

From the poem ” Outwitted”
― Edwin Markham

The fog is lifting, I think. That is good news. Whenever I go through a hard time I try to check in with myself, to make sure I’m not fooling myself into the All Times Have to Be Happy Times mentality. That’s so common in modern society, in my society, even. And, I’d guess, admittedly ridiculous to everyone who takes the time to think about it.

This isn’t one of those times, but I think it’s important to understand why you’re feeling defeated, because then it helps to determine what amount of recovery has to occur for things to begin looking up again. It turns out you don’t need a full 180 to feel better, and I want becoming a little better to be my only real goal. Even though I can dream and plan with the best of ‘em, I’m reminded that reaching further than that might be wrong.

In the All Times Have to Be Happy Times camp, ironically, I think that is one thing that is missed the most. Happiness is generally not the thing that forces improvement. It is a contributor, sure, but most often it is the reward. The things that will help me become better are the obstacles, both the unexpected and the ones I conquer on purpose. Those are the times when I will be most able to learn, and practice remembering what I’ve learned.

The fog isn’t completely gone, but luckily now I can see just far enough to hold on to the part of it that became part of me. I’ve been hurt, I’ve hurt, and I still don’t completely understand it all, but it means something to me and who I am, and to what I can bring to the life ahead of me. Everything hard time is going to leave a mark and I think it’s ultimately up to us to decide what that mark represents.

I have spent 2012 in kind of a fog. Well, a funk is more like it but I really don’t enjoy the word funk to describe mood. It is a fog, and it’s floated heavier and lighter over the last couple weeks. It started on January 1, when a few things with a family member just didn’t go well, and it has kind of snowballed from there. I am worn down.

About 10 days ago my right knee became painful and it didn’t go away. Now, having a heck of a past with knee injury, this isn’t altogether strange. So, because I am supposedly older and wiser instead of running a marathon on that knee (*cough*twice*cough*), I instead backed off my activity and tried to take it easy. Well, the knee pain sort of came and went but really what it was doing was traveling. My lower back began hurting just over a week ago, and then it moved to my upper back, where it resides today. Thursday of last week I actually had no pain whatsoever, but that was apparently a freak day because I have had back pain in all the days before and since. I am still taking it easy, only taking yoga classes and not practicing intensely at all in those. I haven’t run, I haven’t been to a bootcamp class. Nothing.

But the pain persists, or if I wake up feeling okay, I hurt more as the day goes on.

I don’t need to tell anyone that pain can pretty much ruin… everything. Your attitude, your day, your relationships, your plans. You name it. I have a renewed feeling of respect and empathy for those who live with chronic pain and still manage to function and maintain their lives. If that is ever my case, I want to be locked up. Honestly. I am not doing well after a couple weeks, no one who isn’t a professional should have to deal with me if it gets worse.

The other (bigger?) difficulty with 2012 so far is that I have not felt like myself. Or, more accurately, I’ve had a really hard time deciding what that even is right now. There is not an easy way to say this, because I don’t blog about romantic relationships and so I suppose I haven’t had practice? but I recently decided to end one. And it doesn’t feel good, of course, but I do know it was right. It was two people realizing they were not in the same place. I sort of hate that description “not in the same place” but it’s all I’ve got. Not right is not right, whether it’s people or place or time.

I think if we get into anything with long term intentions— relationships, jobs, homes— we find a way into fooling ourselves that you can really plan for the future. Maybe it’s not so much the plans but the feelings they give you that allow you to relax? And so when something ends, planned or abruptly, it is more the idea you were steering what was to come that you have to let go. That is what I’m telling myself. It’s not a wholly bad experience, learning these things. In fact, I haven’t really cried or been at all distraught over it like  a younger version of myself might have been. I felt good about moving on, albeit sad. And in that sense I guess I do know more now about who I am.

With work this year, I feel as though I’ve finally reached a stability point. I quit my job to figure out what to do next and ultimately become my own boss two years and two months ago. It has been hard, and blah blah blah, but now it sort of only is. I know I should be thankful for this, and I am. Believe me, I am. But I have never been so good with the rebuilding part of things– the downtime. Now that I have some stability, or at least a few months of it, and I’ve found a routine in other areas of my life, what I should be doing is recharging, right? Re-saving all the money I spent figuring out what the next move was. Re-planning some goals and direction. And just allowing the normality of it all to sink in. Right? No. Because recharging doesn’t feel like moving forward. Duh.

In spite of the changes and obstacles, I feel incredibly stuck and unsure about my entire life right now. It is not as simple as “there are highs and lows.” I have had people say that, and I wish it were. It’s more than that. I have felt way too status quo for my liking. Way too inhibited by my choices. Way too unable to work on moving forward. I have prayed, I have asked friends for advice, I’ve looked for signs and signals all over the place.  Ocassionally the fog will clear a little, my heart will feel a little lighter, and I’ll get a moment to take a deep breath. To see a silver lining, maybe even a few little signs that it’s all going to be okay.

I know it will be okay. I do know that. What I am hoping for, though, is that little something extra that moves me out of the When and into the How. Because I will tell you one thing, between insult, injury, and letting go of what I once knew, I am either at the breaking point or on the verge of something huge. I am hoping for huge, in case you couldn’t tell.

Oh my gosh, I am such a backslider right now. Backslider? That is a word you can use in place of hypocrite because hypocrite just sounds so… harsh. And I made a decision a long time ago to not be harsh with myself. So, backslider. Because yesterday, on the first day of the year, some things just hit me. Hard. And I guess that is life… because I baited it all by saying I really had nothing to resolve myself to do on January 1, 2012.

Then my neighbor let her dog poop in my yard, right in front of me.

I got angry. I really did. Not at the dog, of course, but at my neighbor. And I scowled, and complained loudly and slightly maniacally to my mother whom I was on the phone with at the time. Which is when it hit me, that maybe I shouldn’t be getting so angry on the first day of the year about poop, of all things. Over the last year it has been increasingly important to me that I try to have love and compassion for all people, not just the ones who make it easy, or the ones I’m related to. All people. I strongly feel this pull, like I would confidently bet most humans do, to love my neighbor. I know this is the right thing in my heart, truly. I know that our worth is wholly equal, no matter what. But like many others, it is a challenge for me. And here I was, on Day One of 2012, SO VERY MUCH NOT loving my neighbor.

And, yes, many times I have had the thought and then been able to move on from it. But not yesterday, yesterday it haunted me and when something like that haunts you long enough, experience tells me it is for a reason. So, first things first 2012: Love Thy Neighbor. Like, the difficult ones especially. Because I know I’ve made it difficult for others to love me, often.

__________

I’ve been practicing yoga routinely for several years now. I am better for it, of this I am certain. It challenges me, physically and mentally, which is good, but also… hard. And one of the hardest poses of all of yoga for me comes at the end of a practice session, when it’s time to do nothing. Savasana is the name of the pose, and all it means is lying on your back, eyes closed, and being in the moment. Over the last few months it has become harder and harder for me to take that time. I am already thinking about where I have to be, or whether I will get a shower before everyone else crowds the locker room, or a million other things that really don’t matter, and in which a few more minutes won’t make a difference.

So Saturday, on the last day of the year, I decided I would start taking that time. That it was not only part of the class itself, but that it would lend intention to other parts of my life. Often times I find myself only taking time to be still when I have already gotten to the point of being overwhelmed. I’m not so cool with that. So on Saturday I lie there for a full 11 minutes (it turned out), eyes closed, pushing away the worry of what was going on around me. And you know what? Everything was fine. Better, even. So, I will Be Still in 2012. Ahead of time and on purpose.

___________

Also, yesterday, somewhere between being with family (and being unexpectedly hurt by one family member) and coming home to do laundry and clean the house, I noticed that I was attempting to escape from those feelings of disappointment and, just, blah by imagining something different for the future. While there is nothing wrong with imagining a future, of course, I don’t really think it should be used as a way to not deal with the now. And life has kindly spoiled me in this way, too, as it does just keep getting better and better so why wouldn’t I escape to the dreams of what’s to come? It’s fulfilled me beyond my expectations in so many ways so far.

But it also hit me that even if this is all there is, even if these moments now are as good as life will ever get, I have so much to be grateful for. I want to live and love right now as if this right here is totally enough. Because it is, more than. So now I have the intention to start acting like it. Even if I know the odds, even though I know life does get richer and more rewarding (and harder, amirite?), I won’t forsake what I’ve got right now. I will be grateful as if this here, right now, is the best life.

Here’s to 2012! Thanks for being here with me as I backslide a little, but mostly move forward.

Goals and resolutions and year-end recaps are running wild all over the Internet right now. And I don’t know why this is especially significant to me this year as it’s been regular practice since I started blogging, since I started even reading blogs. But having never been a resolutions person at the start of a year, I guess I partly admire it and am partly stressed by it. Admittedly, I prefer to make changes in oh-crap fashion. As in: “Oh, crap. This really isn’t working for me, is it? Let’s change… now!” Sometimes I am successful, sometimes I am not. Sometimes things are completely out of my control, and sometimes ways I need to change hit me like a ton of bricks in the middle of, say, May.

Just the same, though, I appreciate the idea of starting new. Not of clean slates, no. I am sort of against clean slates. But starting new, trying something new. I can get behind that. (And yes, there is a big, big difference. Which I think I’ll get to in a minute.) For me, though, it seems by the time January hits I seem to be okay with things. Maybe it’s the Christmas high still hanging on, or that I’m more inspired to change during other months, but I feel like in January I just want to embrace what is.

Which is why I think clean slates don’t work out (oh, look, I did get to it). Not in our minds, in our relationships, or in our goals. The older I get the more I realize that the cliche of learning from every experience is ageless for a reason: it is true. And so the idea of wiping everything out is almost… disrespectful to life, and to what we’re meant to take away from each piece of our past. I know there are people that can go through life without attaching a lot of meaning to things, but I’m not one of them and, honestly, I have no idea how they survive. How they get through tough times, or good times even. So the concept of not taking experience forward is admittedly absurd to me.

This year has contained some tough moments for me, no doubt. I haven’t put them all on the Internet, that’s true, but I have had some dark times, hurt some people, and been hurt myself. I have had to get really honest in a lot of ways, and I’ve had to “trust the process”, as they say, even when I really had no idea what the process was. When I had no idea what the goal was, really. I have also had some really joyous times, being present when my baby nephew was born, watching friends start a life together, watching people grow in ways that made me feel blessed to just know them. I have learned more about tragedy around the world, and in my own neighborhood. I have learned more about hurt and pain in my own relationships, and I have learned more about what I want for my life.

The only way I can figure out how to move forward into 2012 or any other time is to embrace it all, to not have a clean slate. Sure, I could work and angst and try and try to pretend I didn’t just see and feel everything I went through, or I can embrace it all, as it is, and count on the richness of that to make every moment ahead that much sweeter, that much more valuable. That, actually, I think is pretty risky, too.

Yes, climb a mountain. Yes, be adventurous. God, yes, SAY YES. But not just to the outward things like mountains and airplanes, but the inward things too, like experiences and feelings, pain and joy. That is where I want to live, because though I may not like it, it is all mine to use from this moment forward. In that way, no matter if it’s a day or a year, everything is sort of new, isn’t it?

The above image is circulating around Facebook lately, and as with most things like this, these proclamations created by one but used by others, you can’t help but see it. And it is usually the used by others part that annoys me most, because I think the message gets a little lost, a little reinterpreted for convenience. But, as is the case here, some are far more embraceable than others (is embraceable a word? I have decided yes, because I want to be embraceable. And you are embraceable to me, always. So, yes, embraceable! Ahem! Tangent.).

The part I like about it most is that it gives others the benefit of the doubt, assumes that people have the best of intentions, and that really, most people just want to be nice. That is what I try to do every day. Because, yes, I would love to love everything with my whole self every day, but I am not designed that way. I am instead given challenges and obstacles and forced to take risks in order to love, rather than it just being easy. Sometimes I fail and all I can come up with is… niceness. Which is okay, too, because sometimes I don’t even do that well, and niceness is a lot closer to love than honking my car horn impatiently. FOR EXAMPLE.

And just as I mentioned above, I am using the message in this image for my own interpretation, too. My own benefit, even. It’s unfortunate that during this time of year is when we hear most about differing belief systems and religions because it always makes me wish we could hear about what people believe all the time. And embrace that. I mean, I don’t necessarily think that this is all we should talk about, of course, because there are episodes of Real Housewives that I accidentally have to DVR each week, but I do wish we could spend the better part of the year learning more so that when it comes to this part of the year, we could just appreciate. And while I haven’t studied every religion on Earth to a science, I do know that taking the time to appreciate is a big deal across the board. Being still. It is the oldest/newest trend.

Generally I believe in teaching by and learning from example and on the occasions in which I’m questioned about what I believe I’m happy to talk, but most of the time I figure I’m walking the line between growing myself and not being different enough to attract attention. I once had a nutritionist tell me that “It’s not what you do between Thanksgiving and Christmas, it’s what you do between Christmas and Thanksgiving.” That has always stuck with me in a spiritual way and I think of it during this time of year more than ever. How true it is, and how motivating it is to me to remember that it is my job to learn more all year round. It is my job to love more, to embrace more while becoming more solid in my belief at the same time,  and that this is the way to become closer with my God.

So, yes, like in the image above, I will be happy with whatever greeting you choose. I will know you are embracing the spirit of the season you celebrate. And I will remember that it’s coming from a place as dear in your heart as my greeting does from me. We will believe, truly, that we are here first to love each other, and that often means first just being nice.

Thanks for being on The Nice List with me.

Love,

Lesley

At some point in the last couple years I’ve come to admit something that, while always true about me, I’d never been willing to admit before: I am not overly ambitious. Wait. Forget that. The full truth is, I am not ambitious. Period. I think in my childhood (hello, 1980s) it became very popular to raise children with an almost cut-throat mentality. You have to know what you want and go for it no matter what. And we see this so much more intensely now, what with Tiger Moms and fetuses applying for grad school. It was definitely prevalent as I got older, and even though I was lucky and did not particularly struggle with doing well in school, there was always this part of me that knew I didn’t really have the No Matter What mentality.

That didn’t mean grades didn’t matter, just as it doesn’t mean paying the bills and turning in good work doesn’t matter now. Both of those things matter. To an extent. Because somewhere along this line of doing what was expected of you, being willing to work hard and honestly, and sticking to commitments things got… blurry. Suddenly I found myself in this world driven by impeccable plans of action and Where Do You See Yourself In Five/Ten/Twenty Years interview questions, and friends-be-damned-you-are-here-to-work environments and, well, I think somewhere ambition became confused with steamrolling through life. With forgetting everything else around you in favor of the next big title, pay grade, Moment of Recognition.

(Sidebar: As someone who now gets paid to not only write for other people but also edit their work, I am very proud of that last paragraph. Ahem.)

Studies in North America over recent years have shown there is actually a way to measure happiness as it equates to income. And that magic number where those happy people sit is? $70,000 per year. That’s it. A fortune to some, yes, but not an instant millionaire whatsoever. And so I’m thinking those of us in or hovering somewhere close to that number (within $20,000-30,000 or so) can probably see that Happiness Horizon as we sit here today. And we can probably see the people on that horizon and beyond it, who are happy as a majority, and realize that this group is not made up of only the cut-throat, friendless, man-alone-in-his-castle sector. They are people, mostly, who were just ambitious enough.

And whether or not these people have either invested in or completely neglected other areas of their lives I can’t say, but what I do think of is what if we were all just ambitious enough? Not lazy. Not free-loaders. No. What if we chose instead to participate in our lives as best we can, while never feeling like we had to do it ALL THE THINGS? What if we reevaluated the amount of effort needed to actually accomplish the important things, and even let a whole lot of things go? Is that possible?

I don’t know, but I’m practicing this. It’s only been in the last couple years when I totally pulled myself off one track and spent some time on no track at all, and then started up an entirely unknown track that I’ve been able to realize what I really do well, what I am supposed to contribute to the world right now. And it hasn’t involved any do-or-die moments, any stepping on heads, any loss of friend or blood. It has involved doing less, but doing it better. Work smarter, not harder, right?

This has all led me to a point where I’ve had room to let myself grow—at a time when I’ve had very little overwhelming ambition is when I’ve progressed the most (financially, spiritually, emotionally, you name it). And I know the reaction to that: “Well, isn’t that nice for you, but I’m paying rent/a mortgage, juggling kids and elderly parents, and just grateful to be working over here, dumb ass.” Yes, I know. And I’m fully prepared to be thought a dumb ass for saying this, but ME TOO. I am juggling, too. But I am practicing on doing it better, and determining what the actual definition of a good juggler is, even.

If at the end of the day all that juggling has not made you feel better, but worse, maybe we’re trying too hard. I was. I did good work, was paid wonderfully, had a packed schedule, and never stopped to think if that was the actual contribution I was willing to make to the world. It was only when letting in the idea that ambition did not always lead to success which did not always lead to happiness that I realized, putting forth less effort can have an equal return. Often, even more.

At about 1:30 AM on Tuesday I fell face first on my bed after a long day of travel that included a ferry ride, a taxi ride, two flights totaling over seven hours of flying time, and one ninety minute drive home from the airport. Yes, I was on my favorite island again, and although it always proves worth the long travel day, it wasn’t until the next morning when I woke up at 7:00 AM— but it really felt like 10:00 AM— when I really could think about it. And be grateful.

As I have in the past, this time I went to be a dog sitter for friends. And maybe it’s just because I am an animal person but when I do this I never really feel like I’m helping that much. I mean, I get to be there. That makes me feel very lucky. Not to mention there were three separate cold fronts/winter storms that rolled through Colorado while I was gone, and if missing sub-zero temperatures isn’t lucky, I don’t know what is.

So when I woke up yesterday morning, in my home but with a week of friends and warm weather behind me, it felt impossible to decide what to be grateful for first. And I’m getting an overwhelming feeling of that lately. Maybe it’s just because I’m older and gaining experience and perspective, but it still feels like a very special thing to feel more grateful all the time. It has more depth, and that’s a beautiful thing to be allowed to learn.

My friend Melissa wrote about getting what you believe you deserve yesterday, and it sparked me to remember one of my favorite quotes: “Once I started counting my blessings, my whole life turned around.”– Willy Nelson. (I love me some Willy Nelson, people.) And isn’t that so true? Isn’t it so right that the moments when you see all you really have, even the tough parts of life, the parts you don’t want to deal with, as a blessing, you are forever more wise. You see the details, you see the little moments you may have passed up before, and you see the opportunity that is sometimes hidden when you’re too wrapped up in what isn’t rather than what is.

More and more now, when I’m struggling with something, I remember to pause. When a good thing happens but it’s bad timing, when someone doesn’t do what they say they’ll do, when things don’t happen according to my plan, I find myself more able to stop and think. Yes, I still ask Why? but it is different. It is Why is this happening? What am I supposed to be seeing here? How is this making me better, independent of anyone or anything else? I try to listen, and use it.

People call this different things: manifesting, God, magic, and although I know what I believe, I’m alright with the different names. Because it is all the same thing: there is good meant for you, and you are being given opportunity to see it every single day. Being grateful for it all, well, that is the opportunity.

Whether it be in the form of warm sun and friends, a home you can’t wait to get back to, or reminding yourself that there is nothing without meaning in your life, even the hard things, you can count them all. There is so much that probably sooner than later, you will lose count. I know I have.

I am sure I’ve mentioned it before, but I live in the city I grew up in. Not the next city over, not the next county, but the city. Having only left for college (only to return when I got tired of bouncing around schools) and travel, I sometimes get strange reactions from people. Somehow this is viewed as a drawback, and I can see why. I have had friends that grew up in very small towns and very large cities and couldn’t wait to leave. It wasn’t for them. But the thing about my city? It is so for me. While it is definitely not the only place on Earth I could be happy, I am so happy I’m here.

A lot of people dread being in their hometown. They don’t like seeing the same people, or people from the past. I may be the only person in the world who doesn’t mind that, but I don’t. And I went to school with people who went on to become professional athletes and rocket scientists, so I don’t have the most impressive story by far. I am merely happy where I am. I like my people.

Having recently passed two years since I started working on my own and spending very little time in offices and with in-person coworkers, I think I value my community even more. I’ve had to push further to be social, really. I’ve had to look for friends and acquaintances in new places, simply to have people to talk with. It sounds kind of silly, but the social, chatty part of me was never at a loss for an available ear in an office and so I never thought of how tough it would be on me for that to change. So I’ve made my office in other places in my community, and it continues to surprise me.

A lot of times I think people view staying in one place as limiting yourself, and in some ways it can. (I fully endorse travel.) But I think that limit is only in one way. Horizontally, I’ll say. There is this pressure to always keep reaching and reaching out while never getting deeper. Having to adjust to a life wherein I did not have standard issue friends like I did in an office (I was very lucky, I realize not all coworkers make good friends), I appreciate a lot more that I can become even more ingrained right where I am. I didn’t exactly try for that before; it was a default of working with other good humans. I had good friends, good interests, things I loved, and so pushing for more wasn’t really a necessity before. I didn’t have a huge need to be open to making my life even more full.

Looking back now, that was so silly, because allowing your life to become even more full is such a gift. And this city continues to surprise me.

When I think about training for races again, my brain consistently reminds me of reasons it will not be ideal. And the cause of most of these reasons is an unchangeable fact: I am older. My body is not the same as it was at twenty-five. How can it be ideal when I’ve put it through over a decade of running and some really tough training seasons? It cannot. Well, some bodies could. But mine cannot. As much as I’ve accepted this, it also feels like a constant adjustment.

I also know with all certainty, though, that nothing is ideal as you get older. In fact, I think ideal is a word to altogether stop using past the age of 25. There is no ideal. There is what you imagine, the worst that could happen, and somewhere in between. And that in between is where most of us live all the time, and most of the time it is so good.

I think the more comfortable I become with this, the more comfortable I become with every decision in my life. I am more accepting of relationships, of people, of myself. One of the toughest parts of this is realizing others are not on the same page. I am no good at this. Whether it be a relationship, running, work, the way I see it is there is probably going to be some pain. That’s the part you get comfortable with– the discomfort. In none of these scenarios should the discomfort be excessive, but expecting the ideal to unfold before you is pretty damn silly, now that I think about it. How are we really supposed to get anything done coming from that place?

Instead, I’m choosing to move forward with the mentality that if something is going to challenge you, make your life more interesting, and has the potential to teach you, do it. Get comfortable with discomfort and DO IT. Forget the ideal, it’s boring anyway.