The Holstee Handover

Well, people, it is official: I am now part of the full-time family team with Holstee!

A sudden sad but exciting switch in events, ie. Mary Shouvlin pursuing a new career opportunity (you should check out her awesome blog here). This turn has led to the instant shortening of my duration as Holstee's Community Love Intern and catapaulted me directly into all things customer appreciation, social media monitoring, blog-post writing, community engagement, etc.

For all of you who understood my literal quest via green liberation jumpsuit, I can now, nearly three years later, announce that the piece of Holstee's Manifesto that initially struck me most, hit me right in the center of my gut and my being, will be coming true for me at the end of June:

If you don't like your job, quit.

More to come on this ANY DAY NOW, but for the moment: though extremely excited to finally be walking away from a place that was all wrong for me from the start, I am quietly grateful for the chance to finally do this through the company that first inspired that possibility. All things, yes ALL THINGS, can be brought together for good. I have received some of the best gifts (I mean, meeting the love of my LIFE?!) of all time while wearing a green apron and a drive-thru headset. There are truly no accidents, a fact I believe now more than ever. We face challenges for a reason, we get through them for the better. All things new, and I still can't believe it's happening. COUNTING DOWN THE DAYS.

Living in tomorrow.

I'm not sure if life ever really stops rolling over into newness. If there is always something, and there is, then we are living in constant preparation for the next step, worrying about tomorrow, making endless to-do lists that never get checked off. I believe there is a fine detail, a small space between what echoes as living responsibly and what is really just a constant looking over your shoulder, permanent frown lines to match your furrowed brows.

I think we should look forward to things, true. I think we should attend to details, yes. I think we should believe a little more in what we're capable of, always. Big changes, even good changes, can be difficult, can be scary, can loom over us and feel impossible, can feel like the taming of some wild beast in the simple form of managing a schedule, making decisions, saying goodbyes. 

There is truth to being able to do what you claim is possible, to achieve what you say will be done. Reminding yourself every so often that you can do this, that the thing that stops you is only a self-perpetuated fear, a laziness steeped in resistance, and all at once you're there, in the center of a new universe, waiting for the word. 

New changes, some bittersweet, to come on the Holstee homefront, and happy news to follow soon. 

A little gratitude

I have decided that it would be in the best interest of all things for me to remember what I'm grateful for. Some days that list is long or short, some days I feel like I'm forcing it, some days I think I could go on from dawn 'til dusk counting the ways in which I find life endearing, lucky, and inexplicably good.

I think the best way to remember to stay grateful is by method, by practice, with sincere intention. For me, a list-maker by nature, that involves a stock-piling of post-its, notes scribbled on the side of an envelope, reminders tapped into my iPhone, all things to keep me motivated, grounded, and thankful.

Lately, here they are:

1. Cute Colin. Having finally experienced real love and a best friend, my life has been forever changed by this particular person, this boy who made me believe in fate, among many other things.
2. Never going hungry. I'm not sure if it's the weather or the change in the air, but I've never felt hungrier than I have for the past few weeks of my life. Every time I feel that pang, I have food nearby. A simple thing, one would think, until a time when you suddenly are forced to do without.
3. Train rides, ie. an uninterrupted hour to read.
4. Bike rides. No explanation necessary.
5. Looking for apartments, which has truly become exciting, a little scary, and a little more exciting again. Making it work is one of the best imaginings I've had in a long time.

Remembering to be grateful in the midst of trials, in the middle of things we aren't exactly glad about, seems like it would be especially difficult. Who knew, however, that it is that very thing that brings us through it, that very thing that keeps us sane enough, that brings us around again to wholeness, to wellness, to feeling new again.

Some sound advice.

Close the door. Write with no one looking over your shoulder. Don't try to figure out what other people want to hear from you, figure out what you have to say. It's the one and only thing you have to offer. #BarbaraKingsolver


What she said.

Being lost vs. Losing it

If "getting lost will help you find yourself" as the Holstee Manifesto reminds us, then I must be on the very edge of a massive discovery-inducing breakthrough.

Either that, or I'm more lost than ever before, and the breakthrough is miles from where I stand.

If we know that good things come to those who wait, (and we all know the wait involved in this particular scenario), AND if we can admit that most good things aren't without their challenges, then the simple if-not-annoying truth of it all is that when one thing falls in to place, other aspects (life in general) can start to seemingly unravel before you.

Too cryptic to make any real sense, I'm sure, the real point is that our problems, posed before us ready for a fight, also come with a choice, an option to press beyond them, or stay behind them, letting them take over and lead the way. Or worse, keep us from moving forward at all.

I was approached by a customer yesterday, the situation almost too ironic to bear, when he decided to inform me that we have a choice in life, to be happy or to be miserable, to stay or not, to let the circumstances win or to change them. If I ever have hated to agree with anyone more, I can't think of an example.

And, if I've ever encountered a situation where defeat felt like the more viable option, I can't think of an example of that, either. When a problem seems endless or less-than-manageable, carry on. The only way to get through it is directly through the center, through the very heart of it all, through the fire, through the loneliest place, the darkest hour. It can make you stronger, or it can make you quit. That choice, thank heaven, is ours to make. So let's keep moving. Let's do what we can with what we have, let's accept what we know and learn about what we don't. Let's make a decision, have patience, stick with something, and cut off what's hurting more than it's helping. Let's dig in, retrace our steps, and find the next turning point. It's there, somewhere. The only way to find it is to keep going.

Share your story!

It's true that any person you come across in life, in passing, in present, has a story worth telling. Many times it's way too easy to write someone off for small reasons, not remembering that we've all experienced the same feelings and trials and joys, many times from comparable causes.

Holstee has just recently launched a new site and a new outreach called My Life. This website is designed and centered around Y-O-U, around what you have to say, and how the Manifesto itself has reached you, motivated you, inspired you. We at Holstee want to know all about it! We believe we are connected by our experiences, challenged by how others have grown, and overall blessed to know how our work has changed your life.

For my particular story, I recapped the experience I had last Christmas, the struggles I carried with me for then several years, and the sudden way the Manifesto woke me up, shook me out, and reminded me to carry on. Along with everything else I've learned along this journey, the reminder that I had people who loved and supported me was what left me truly touched, the words of the Manifesto resonating in my mind.

If the Holstee Manifesto has reached you in any way, in any experience, we would love for you to tell us more about it. As more time goes by, I am learning more and more about what keeps Holstee running, who does what, who keeps everything in motion, the ways these people truly work as a team, the positive message they aim to spread and being a part of the change they hope to see in our world. What could be more inspiring than that!

Do a lot of work.

I recently attended a college graduation in West Palm Beach, Florida. My little (though not so little) sister and her little (teeny-tiny) boyfriend walked among 500+ students to receive recognition (annnd paper certification!) for their years of hard work, late nights, dedication, meeting goals and losing sleep.

I think most of us could say we know one person or another who turned their tassel this May: whether for an undergrad degree in this or that, a master's of higher learning, or a specifically fine-tuned doctorate in anything from the art world to the medical underworld and beyond.

The question then is: now what?

This isn't really a question reserved for the end of an era or the end of a school year. Rather, it applies more to the beginning of something, to the next-chaptering, to deciding where we go from here.

I can't help but turn to this particular print (one I've been led to through my new endeavors with Holstee) as a means of encouragement not only for myself, but for those who have launched out into the universe, those little artists with big hopes and big disappointments, to you, and to me, I give you this unfailing wisdom:

This here, truer than true, came from radio personality and NPR host Ira Glass. And even though its pertinence still rings true in my life, my life three years past the experience of being a student, of attending classes, of writing papers until three in the morning, I think it especially makes sense for those who are just starting out, walking for the first time on their own two feet, somewhere other than a hallway or a dorm room or an assembly.

The artist's life is a challenge, but it's one of the best lives their is to be had. It's the hardest thing EVER to not be your own critic, to settle into a routine, to give up what drives you in order to make a paycheck. It only makes sense, the world tells you, you need money to survive, artists don't make money, but fast food workers do. I should have majored in something else, you'll start to think, I should have been a pharmaceutical rep or a high school teacher.

I can say this with all certainty because I've done it. And every once in awhile, on my very worst days, I do it still. But we don't quit. We don't continue to seek "goodness" in what we're doing but rather we call it good because it's being DONE. The only thing we give up is the fear that if-someone-sees this/reads this/watches this/finds this-they-will-hate-me-and-know-I'm-a-fraud attitude. We continue on, we continue to recite monologues in the dark and paint until our hands stop working and write until our words run dry or we fall asleep from sheer exhaustion. We, as Glass insists, fight our way through by doing, which is something we might keep doing forever. But ask anyone who's done it, ask anyone who's fought and then faltered and then fought again: worth it, worth it, worth it.