the rest of the story

I’ve realized I spent so many years hiding my real me that in the last couple of years I didn’t want a minute of hiding me anymore.

I want that for you too.

The real you is priceless.

Maybe you’re loud.
Maybe you sing poorly.
Maybe you sing with the voice of an angel.
Maybe you love running.
Maybe you are quirky.
Maybe you love everything perfect.
Maybe you don’t really care.
Maybe you like spicy salsa.
Maybe you don’t want your food to touch each other on the plate.
Maybe you like Hulu.
Maybe you like Netflix.
Maybe you love classical music.
Maybe you know every word to all of Eminem’s raps.
Maybe you live in the city.
Maybe you live in the country.
Maybe you have kids.
Maybe you don’t.
Maybe you love trivia.
Maybe you hate reading.
Maybe you are single.
Maybe you are married.
Maybe you worry.
Maybe you are a planner.
Maybe you are a free spirit. Maybe you laugh loudly.
Maybe you snort when you laugh.
Maybe you have extra time.
Maybe you wonder if people like you.
Maybe you don’t care.

No matter what – BE YOU.

The time on this planet is WAY TOO SHORT to be anything other than who you are inside. You were born with talents and gifts and wonderful stuff.

Don’t hide it trying to measure up to a hypothetical.
Don’t hide it because you think you should be more.
Don’t hide it because you think you should be less.
Don’t hide it because you worry what others think.
Don’t hide it because you are waiting for things to change.

Be you.

And maybe others won’t like that you. That’s okay. Because there are a whole bunch of people who need you. Just the way you are. Not being something else, but you.

You are wonderful.
You are amazing.
You are enough.

Be proud of the wonderful story of you.

Walk your own path.

Life is short.

~Rachel
#findingjoy

Before I begin, I know there are books out there on this topic of ten percent. I happen to own a couple (10% Happier being one of them). I’ve always understood the principle and yet it hasn’t been until recently that I’ve lived the principle. Maybe it’s not so much as a principle, but for me, a lifestyle – a shift in my mindset.

I spent 2020 wondering what was going on and 2021 holding my breath waiting.

By the time this year came around I realized I no longer wanted to live in that waiting space, that holding of breath, that watching and not doing. Yet, 2020 taught me, and pretty much the whole world, that our foundation can change. Fast. We all were caught in this frenzy, in this still slow burn of what is happening while we waited to emerge stronger, better, or perhaps, back to a form of normal.

By the end of last year I realized that no matter all the different viewpoints on normal and what was going to happen that life would just be different. And, honestly, it’s not a bad thing, because it means we adapt. In adaption there is always a shedding, a letting go, but without it, we couldn’t become who we need to become.

So how does that relate to this 10% thing?

Well, once January rolled around I began to understand that I couldn’t live life on hold anymore.

I think the whole world was starting to realize it.

We were in this frozen state and honestly, ready to thaw.

To emerge.

But I learned that I didn’t want to emerge as I once was – perhaps a bit naive about time, certainly too comfortable in a normal that I believed couldn’t be touched, and honestly, not really a ten percent more kind of gal.

I was good. You know the I’m fine kind of good.

I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.

But I wasn’t pushing myself as hard as I could. I wasn’t resting when I needed to. I wasn’t saying what needed to be said.

I was, in this strange way, settling in being okay.

Not that there is ANYTHING wrong with being okay. Let me just put that out there. I’m a writer who celebrates being the world’s okayest runner and being okay with self because it is about self-love. After all, we are WAY TOO HARD on ourselves. But friends, truthfully, I was a bit soft with myself. I didn’t have that fire in my belly, didn’t have the urge to get the dust off. I just was.

Fine.

After 2020 and 2021 that was the last thing I wanted.

I emerged with this new vigor, this sense of wanting to be fully alive. To feel the sun on my face, to be the friend at the doorstep hugging, to do the hard things, to no longer deny self, to look at all of those things that were in the box of someday and to decide that I would make them today.

And that’s the 10%.

Let me explain it in my running analogy way. This year I aim to plan 899 miles (the distance from my driveway in Nashville to my parents in Minneapolis) and have blocked it out. Yes, something might happen that might make it not possible, but for now I’m planning this – and running.

A lot.

Which means, when it is nice outside I add extra. A tenth of a mile here, ten percent there. I ask myself, “Can you make it just to the next block? Another loop? What if you tried to run back to the lake and back again?” I push the ten percent. Just a bit more, run.

Instead of letting the uncomfortable stop me I’ve begun to look at it differently. The uncomfortable is a sign of progress, of change. And, the place where I feel uncomfortable is farther and farther from the start.

In other words, by pushing myself to do more, I’ve gotten stronger.

That strength has allowed me to actually feel a bit more alive.

Do you know why? It’s because I’ve realized that I don’t want to cut myself short anymore.

I don’t want to live in fear.

I don’t want to live in waiting for tomorrow.

I don’t want to wait.

Listen, now listen, this goes to other areas of my life too – speaking up, taking breaks, fighting for my heart, finding boundaries and more. Ten percent isn’t about pushing one’s self to exhaustion.

It’s actually about reclaiming one’s self.

That’s the hidden part. It doesn’t feel that much in the moment but over time – it’s huge.

When you begin to value that moment of rest – you’ll find it on your calendar.

When you begin to value health – you’ll change patterns.

When you begin to value your mindset – you’ll create boundaries.

When you begin to value time – you’ll challenge fear.

These involve us not settling for responses. It might mean sitting in the uncomfortable and being okay with it. The uncomfortable isn’t bad – truly – it is a sign of growth, of change, of what needs to be seen.

So, my friend, this is the year of goals. This is the year of fighting for our vibrancy in life to return.

The thing about ten percent is that it doesn’t mean you have to be perfect. It doesn’t mean you have to know something from the start. It’s just about trying just a bit more – it’s about doing. It’s about putting a goal on the schedule. It’s about you seeing yourself and valuing – you. Not waiting.

This is YOUR year.

My challenge to you? What could you accomplish with this ten percent more approach?

You are worth it.

~Rachel

ps… I really think this was influenced by the idea that I don’t know how many summers and falls and winters and springs and summers and again that I will get to live. It may sound morbid, but truthfully, the fragility of one’s timeline is enough to spur most of us to action instead of watching. I don’t want to get to the end of my days thinking, “Wow….I wish I had tried.” I’d rather get there and be grateful – even with the stumbles and falls – that I took the risk. You know why? It means I didn’t live in fear AND I valued my heart.

Be the one who sees.

Years ago I had to count every single penny I spent. I had to keep a tally in my head while shopping. I would stand there and add things up over and over and over. There was this time during the holidays when I was shopping at Trader Joe’s because way back then they had the most gluten free food and I had a toddler newly diagnosed with Celiac Disease, and I stood in the frozen aisle adding everything up.

I was over. And back then, when I was over, I couldn’t just check out. I didn’t want my card declined so the smallest edge over couldn’t happen. So I looked through everything trying to figure out what to put back. I kept everything everyone else would have loved – but put back the one thing I loved. It was a simple frozen package of chicken tamales. But that package was what put the total over.

I hated that feeling. Of not being able to afford that $3.29 package of tamales. But that was life and I moved on and forgot about it. It was what I did.

That night our doorbell rang.

It was odd because it was extremely cold and it rang at 8:30. I went to the door, opened it, and on my front steps were bags of food. Food from Costco and Trader Joes.

And on the top of the first bag I saw were those chicken tamales.

The same kind hours before I had put back.

So simple, yet such a profound life-changing moment.

Friends.

I cannot describe the tears, the feeling of realizing that even in my aloneness I wasn’t alone. The feeling that I mattered. The feeling of gratitude.

It is seeing.

I still have no idea who put all of that food on my doorstep. My kids were so excited about all the goodies. I was humbled knowing that even the little things mattered. And whether or not you believe in God like I do, in that moment I knew I was not alone.

Chicken tamales mattered.

So ever since then, that moment, I’ve made it a point to be the one who sees. To be the one who doesn’t chalk things up to coincidence. To see the one struggling. To notice the mom counting groceries in the corner of the store. To smile. To see.

Be one who sees.

Be the one who sees the hurting and gives.
Be the one who sees beyond the shadows and loves.
Be the one who sees the lost and shows up.
Be the one who sees the bags of food for sale for others and buys them.

We need a world of seeing.

We really need a world of seeing in the holidays. It’s so easy to be so busy and to miss the power of seeing.

See.

Change a life.

~Rachel

connect with me on Facebook at FINDINGJOY BLOG

I have received hundreds of notes about my dress that I wore for my wedding last week. And friends, just like normal, there is a story to tell. You see, I had decided on a dress. Not that dress. A safe dress, an okay dress, honestly.

My oldest kids arrived two days before my wedding and asked me about it. I told them it was okay. And without missing a beat, they both said, “unacceptable” and we drove from the airport to Macys.

Once we were there we all started looking around and my oldest, Hannah, started pulling dresses that weren’t in my normal “safe” selection of dresses. I pulled safer dresses. Nice, okay, but not spectacular. Not a dress that represented the bravery and courage of a life changed.

I tried on my dresses first.
All okay. Some I hated.

Then I tried on the second pile and loved them all. And then I tried on that floor length sequined dress. Not safe, not okay, but a dress that celebrates life. Celebrates movement forward.

A milestone in life dress.

I couldn’t stop smiling from the moment I saw.

It wasn’t safe.

But my life wasn’t safe and easy over the past eight years. I had experienced loss and in that loss I had moments of despairs and angst. My writing here reflected it – from my fears of failing to worrying that I was enough to the days when I had enough. Yet in it all, I kept on stepping forward, kept walking. I kept believing, kept hoping, kept going. 

Moved to Tennessee.
Published a book.
Was on national television.
Bought a house.
Got married.
Healed my family.

And it didn’t deserve okay.

Healing a family, coming to a place of happiness again is what I celebrate. And healing is never ever okay. It’s spectacular. 

So I bought the dress. And as I paid for it the sweet older woman who checked me out asked what it was for and my two oldest kids answered with delight that it was for my wedding. I told her it was on the 20th floor, downtown Nashville and it was my next chapter.

She looked at the dress, pointed to the traditional wedding dress section and said, “honey, this is a dress that is perfect for you at this point in life. You’ve done the other, now it is time to shine.”

She didn’t know my story. My posts about “shine, girl, shine” or any of it. After I paid, she came around and hugged me and told me to wear it with love and confidence.

My oldest took these pictures of us.

We were downtown Nashville and horns were honking and people stopped to watch and in the windows were faces pressed out watching. The dress caught the light and in each sparkle this bravery and fight of the last years turned into a glorious celebration. 

It was magical.

Not safe, but risky and beautiful and brave and a celebration.

All because my own children pushed me out of my own acceptance of “just okay…..”

Listen, I know that our culture says it’s okay to be okay. Heck, even I write that. But sometimes we all need that friend, that push, to step outside of okay and into spectacular. It means that we accept it when people push us and we are willing to push others. 

Don’t settle for okay. 

Life is too short to live every moment in the shadows.

Dare.
Risk.
Shine.

You are worth it. 

Shine, girl, shine. 

It’s time.

~Rachel