Begin as you mean to go | Advice from Leigh Bardugo

I know I'm not alone when I complain that 2018 has been a rough year.

Around my house, we rang in the new year with a nasty case of flu, followed by sinus/respiratory infections and a cough that will not quit. Add to that some home issues that involved taking a jackhammer to a bathroom floor, and—you know—the general crap state of affairs in our country at the moment, and I'm ready to write the first two months of 2018 off completely.

Mind you, things really aren't bad. A cough is annoying, but not life-threatening. We get to tackle an unexpected bathroom mini-renovation that was on our to-do list (albeit much lower than other more pressing items, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ). We have exciting plans for vacations later this year. We get to watch movies like Black Panther.

But it can be hard to focus on the positives when situations compound and make you feel like curling up in the fetal position in a dark room.

Just before Christmas, I got an email newsletter from one of my favorite authors, Leigh Bardugo. I've had the privilege of hearing Leigh speak at book festivals, and have talked with her personally. Every time, I'm reminded of just how cool she is. In the newsletter, she offered some advice that really resonated, and I've revisited it frequently over the past 55-ish days.

1. This is the time of year when people start to think about transforming themselves. Goals, resolutions, and grand ambition are all lovely things and I want to encourage you to think big. But I also want to encourage you to embrace all of the great things about yourself and all of your victories of the past year—no matter how quiet or small. You do not have to go on a diet in the New Year, or write 100,000 words, or eat only kale and horseradish, or hit the gym every day, or post something new on Instagram every week, or follow a 22-step skincare regimen. Your job is to take care of yourself. Period. Advertisers prey on our insecurities and anxieties at holiday time, so be gentle and generous with your heart and remember that you are effing spectacular.


2. Begin as you mean to go on! Every January 1st, I like to make sure I spend a little bit of time working on something I care about or want to pursue in the New Year. Maybe you want to cook at home or learn a new language or make progress on a novel or reach out to your friends more regularly. On New Year's Day, commit to devoting a small amount of time to that thing. Begin as you mean to go on—make that promise to yourself. (And if you do it, tag it #BAYMTGO so I can see!) I'll be doing some writing sprints on my IG stories and you're very welcome to join me whether you're cleaning your apartment or revising a new story or baking me a pie. Bonus points if you're baking me a pie.

After the mess that was January, I wanted to start 2018 over in February. But then this month wasn't much better, so I started thinking about starting over in March. There's always a possibility that March will continue the trend, however ... Before I know it, I could have spent all of 2018 trying to hit reset and looking for the "right" time to begin.

That's no way to live. And even though Leigh sent this advice as a new year's suggestion, I think it can be applied to any sort of restart. (Besides, the Gregorian calendar is a kind of arbitrary thing.)

I'm not quite sure where to start, but you can be darn sure that I'm going to begin as I mean to go once I figure it out.

On March 1.

Do whatever. Be weird. It's OK! | Good thoughts from ban.do

Online shop and purveyor of quirky-cute accessories and office supplies ban.do—in addition to their for-purchase goods—frequently shares quirky-cute downloads that aim to make life a little more fun. One of the newest struck a chord with me this morning, so I had to come share.

As someone with a lot of interests that some might consider weird, reminders like this that it's OK to be yourself—even if others might look sideways at you for it—are very important.

I try to keep in mind that "haters gonna hate," and do what I want regardless, but sometimes it's nice to have a little bit of backup, a simple reassurance that that being yourself is the very best way to be.

You can find more ban.do wallpapers here, iPhone backgrounds (including one of the above image) here, and links to additional fun stuff here.

Fancies & Fascinations | "Got the morbs"

I ran across an old (but new to me) phrase on Tumblr the other day, and it struck a chord:

via goodinthestacks

Isn't that just the best? I mean, it's kind of sad, because the one experiencing it has to be sad to do so, but I am so enamored by the phrase. And, as someone who experiences this feeling on occasion, it's certainly more expressive than just "feeling low."

On turning 31 ... and finding the time

Today is my 31st birthday. There's something about 31 that feels so much more adult than all the other ages that have come since "officially" becoming one at 18. I can now say that I'm "in my thirties," rather than just 30. Next year, I will have been out of college for a decade. I have a ton of grey hairs.

But, I do not feel 31. At the same time, I'm not sure what 31 is supposed to feel like. 31 is by no means old, but it certainly falls in that nebulous "adult" territory. When you're "supposed" to have things like a career and a mortgage and kids. I suppose feeling younger could be a byproduct of my lifestyle: I'm married to my high school sweetheart, we live in a house full of toys (and none of them belong to children), I read mostly young adult books ... I don't think I'm consciously trying to hold on to my childhood. But I do strongly believe in that old saying, "Just because you have to grow older doesn't mean you have to grow up."

When I was young, I'm not sure if I every really though about where I'd be at 31. Coming from an upper-middle class, practically nuclear family living situation (minus the whole other 1.5 kids, that is), perhaps I saw myself married, in a good career, owning a house, having children. Two out of four certainly isn't bad—and there are many things that come with the latter two that I'm not sure I'm ready for.

Then again, my mom and dad were 36 and 40, respectively, when they had me. Although both had white-collar careers when I was born, when I was 8, they packed our small family up and opened a bed and breakfast in Oregon. They supplemented this dream with a job as a handyman and a teacher. When I graduated high school, we moved again. And when I was 22, they got divorced. I suppose, thinking back on it, that my childhood wasn't cookie-cutter at all, so perhaps the reason I can't remember ever having a set plan for myself is that I didn't ever make one. I might have never seen the need. My parents believed in following dreams and making tough decisions when they needed to be made. Instead of a set of stereotypes I needed to have met, they showed me that being an adult really meant taking leaps and making mistakes and being true to yourself, through the hard times and the good.

I found the illustration below when I was thinking about this post, and it struck a chord. I don't always "find the time," and I often complain about the lack of it in my life to do the things I'd rather be doing. Perhaps I'll focus more, in my 32nd year of life, on the lessons I learned from my parents, and on being cognizant of the blessing—on finding the time. That's certainly sounds way more fun than worrying about reaching antiquated milestones when I'm "supposed" to.

(via)

What up, 31? Let's do this.

Giving thanks

Happy (American) Thanksgiving!

I, for one, am thankful for a great many things. Good health, a comfortable place to live, loving family and friends, a steady and well-paying job, puppy love, superhero movies, ridiculous(ly entertaining) TV shows, engrossing books, Funko POP! figurines, macarons, beef jerky, the Internet, the popularity of the color neon yellow ... I could go on.

To celebrate the holiday, and because I can't resist a good quote, I whipped up these Thanksgiving printables to share—because I am also thankful for you!

Marilynne Robinson is an American novelist and essayist. (This quote was yesterday's  Goodreads daily quote, which you can subscribe to receive via email. I love the little bit of inspiration this mini-newsletter often provides.)

Henry David Thoreau was an American author, poet, philosopher, polymath, abolitionist, naturalist, tax resister, development critic, surveyor, and historian. (Just typing all of those makes me tired.) The entire quote reads:

“I am grateful for what I am and have. My thanksgiving is perpetual. It is surprising how contented one can be with nothing definite—only a sense of existence. Well, anything for variety. I am ready to try this for the next ten thousand years, and exhaust it. How sweet to think of! my extremities well charred, and my intellectual part too, so that there is no danger of worm or rot for a long while. My breath is sweet to me. O how I laugh when I think of my vague indefinite riches. No run on my bank can drain it, for my wealth is not possession but enjoyment.”

You can download both, which, if you'd like to print them to use as last-minute decor, should fit two to a standard page, here.

And because I'm nosy, before I sign off to go stuff my face, what things are you thankful for?