5 Feelings to Honor in the Midst of a Crisis

If you’re reading this in April 2020, you’re likely in the middle of a severe global crisis. You’ve done all you can to be responsible with stay-at-home orders and sooth yourself with lockdown-themed memes. But the patience and positivity are wearing thin. Netflix doesn’t hit like it used to. The comfort of home-cooking has plateaued. And the local Zoom parties have lost their luster.

When insecurities abound, like:

How safe is safe enough?

How long will it last?

Who can I trust?

What about my money?

What about my family?

What about my future?

…what can you do?

The journey starts within. Here are five feelings to honor while working through a global crisis:

  1. Grief

    It’s important to acknowledge the emotional processing that needs to happen in times like these. Some of us have lost our loved ones and our jobs. All of us have lost our normalcy and our sense of security. It takes time to get through the stages of grief and we owe it to ourselves to experience each one in our own unique way. Anger, anxiety, denial, and depression will all surface in unexpected waves. Accept them as they come and take care before unconsciously moving on to the next.

  2. Grace

    In acknowledgement of our grieving, we get to take a step towards forgiveness. Let grace replace the guilt you feel from not completing a typical routine, not creating your next masterpiece, or not contributing enough to the world around you. After all, sheltering-in-place is a condition of emergency, not a creative retreat. The psychological effects are real. Your number one job now is self-preservation, whatever that looks like for you. When the self-care tips fall flat, try something else until you feel good again. New, healthier patterns will emerge when you allow the space.

  3. Grounding

    A situation like this with all of its uncertainty is jarring. It will take some time to find your footing, especially when you’ve lost the purpose that comes from your usual flow. Do what you can now to nourish your physical being. Rest. Eat well. Sleep well. Go for socially distanced nature walks whenever possible and safe.

    Turning your head up to the sky and letting the sun hit you in the eyelids is essential.

    I’ve learned that by pairing down (by force or by choice), I get to realign with what’s important to me. I’m getting reacquainted with the words, the art, the music, and the hobbies that truly resonate. I’m talking to friends and family. We’re naming and reframing our fears together. It’s a beautiful thing.

  4. Gratitude

    I’ve dedicated my downtime as an ode to all the things I took for granted. Things like physical health and the freedom to move about. Things like going to a store, knowing they’d have what I needed. Things like visiting my grandmother in assisted living. Hugging my mom. Dinner with friends. Shaking hands. I’m grateful to have had these experiences before and hopeful for the day they return.

    There’s a more existential side to this, too. Times like these create an awakening that’s hard to miss and I choose to be grateful for all the lessons this will bring, regardless of how painful it can be. I’m thankful for the chance to investigate who I am in this unprecedented moment and build a better point of view for the future.

  5. Generosity

    With so much of life’s superficialities falling back, I’m finding more space to give in unconventional ways. I can support my favorite artists’ livestream shows and Patreon memberships. I can donate to fundraisers that support people disproportionately affected by the lockdown. I can devote extra time, resources, and kindness to neighbors, front-line essential workers, and other populations at risk.

    Finally, I can give to my future self, by making more conscious decisions about my money and my health while the long-term impact is top of mind.

I don’t have all the answers. No one does. Still, by honoring my feelings in this critical moment, I’ve found the will to keep going. You can, too.

My Top 10 Life Lessons of the 2010s

Heading into 2020, I can finally say I’ve experienced an entire decade as a full-grown adult - with all of the hard-earned knowledge and emotional baggage that comes with it.

Just like a blockbuster movie with all of its sequels, each year builds upon its predecessor with a variable set of plot twists and character changes.

A lot of things change.

A lot of things are out of my control.

But the one thing that doesn’t change is that I am the protagonist - always at the center of the story, writing, directing, and acting in a production of my own making.

It took a while for me to learn this.

I’m the one choosing the lens through which my life plays out.

I’m the one exploring the angles.

I’m the one making the frame.

And with that, I choose to see the world differently with each passing year.

Here are the 10 most important lessons I’ve learned so far:

  1. If you don’t like the story in your head, you can always write a new one.

  2. Take the unconventional liberty to change your mind. What’s worked for you in the past may not work anymore and that’s okay.

  3. Allow much more time than expected for anything worthwhile to pay off. Keep planting the seeds, and keep living your life.

  4. Appreciate every moment as it’s happening.

  5. There is more than one way to be fulfilled. Define success on your own terms, partially by increments of progress vs. tweets of praise.

  6. Make amends with the darker sides of your personality and embrace your mistakes.

  7. Taking responsibility for a situation doesn’t necessarily mean taking the blame. The sooner you can own up to where you’re at, the sooner you can make plans for where you want to be.

  8. Love is motivating. Healthy relationships serve as mirrors to our pain points and opportunities to grow in a safe space. But you have to be ready for the challenge (something only you can gauge for yourself). And just like anything else, it takes time, effort, and commitment on both sides to grasp the benefits in full.

  9. A brand plan is not a business plan and you need both to survive. Number-crunching (while never as fun) is just as important as mood-boarding.

  10. Give it a rest and give it your best. Allow yourself to get messy, sing off-key, and dance off-beat once in a while. Moments of authentic imperfection and intentional downtime give you the space to get inspired in unexpected ways. Plus, when you’ve given your all to the “slow days,” it’s much easier to focus on the “go days.”

Which one of these resonated the most with you this year?

I’m prioritizing my business plans and my relationships in 2020, pressing through the uncomfortable moments to transform into the next version of myself.

Cheers to another year of doing the work :)

Goodbye, Things: 7 Lessons I Learned By Going Minimalist

When I stumbled upon the concept of minimalism through a niche blog in 2013, Marie Kondo’s Life-Changing Magic had yet to capture the closets of middle America.

At the time I was actually searching for ways to do more as a struggling artist juggling multiple jobs.

Surprisingly, most of the answers I found buried on the internet centered around the power of less.

“Clear your head! Let go of your possessions! Live off the grid!

I liked those answers.

Why? Because they were simple.

I was sick of maintaining a circus of stuff that at best upheld a false perception I wanted to portray to others, and at worst completely drained my mental (and financial) energy.

So I began aggressively giving things away. Reduced my clothing down to mostly blacks, grays, and tans. I even got rid of my car (and thrived without one in L.A.) as a 3-year-long experiment.

Looking back on it now, I thought I’d share a few lessons I learned when I first went minimalist and still incorporate today:

  1. It’s not just about things. Minimalism is a mindset that constantly asks “What’s really important to you right now?” in every facet of life - from relationships to career, all the way down to your core values.

  2. It’s not just about aesthetic. Gram-able capsule wardrobes, tiny homes, and neutral colors completely miss the point if they’re simply for show. Tiny things are still things, after all. And you are not your things, no matter how efficient and clean and beautiful they are.

  3. It’s not just about downsizing. It has to work for you in the long-run if you want to sustain. I found out the hard way when I tried to produce my album on a Mac mini (Does Apple even make these anymore?). The specs couldn’t handle all the work I needed to do at once and I ended up swapping for a much larger iMac a few months later.

  4. It’s not just about decluttering. Especially if you’re still shopping compulsively to fill the void.

  5. It’s not just about organizing, which may be just another word for “hiding the things I don’t want to deal with but I don’t want to let go of either.”

  6. It’s not just a moment. It’s a series of moments…tiny steps, happening in stages, a string of ever more awakened decisions…a memoir.

  7. The Container Store is problematic.

I think there’s at least a Part Two for me to add to this but I’ve saved it for later #minimal.

In the meantime, I recommend the book Goodbye, Things: The New Japanese Minimalism by Fumio Sasaki for more life-simplifying tips.

Sober Thoughts 3: How Going Alcohol-Free Changed The Way I Drink

Since so many people resonated with my sober update last April, I thought it only fitting to talk about what it’s like to return to life post-sober.

I never intended to give up drinking forever - and even surprised myself when my non-drinking spree continued months after the end of ‘Sober January.’

Still, I knew the benefits to my health and wealth were far reaching.

My relationship to alcohol was changing.

I knew the day would come eventually for me to see how my new mindset played out in real life.

So in late Spring I decided to take my first sip in nearly 4 months - that’s 120 days. One-third of the year.

A glass of red wine at a friends’ wedding reception.

The heavens didn’t open up. Neither did the gates of hell.

It was pretty anti-climactic, to be honest.

But after that night and a few more nights out - on the town and out of town - I gathered some important notes on how my relationship with drinking has changed:

  1. I don’t need more. Those first couple sips at the wedding were enough to get me all the way through dinner and to the dance floor.

  2. A glass I would’ve previously downed in 20 minutes will now wait an hour or two for me to finish it. And I actually like it that way.

  3. I can be conscious of my consumption without judging it.

  4. I can enjoy the moment without sacrificing the morning after.

  5. I can limit myself without limiting others.

  6. Drinking tonight is not a reason to drink the next night and the next night.

  7. Wine pairings are just a suggestion.

  8. Just cause it’s free don’t mean it’s for me.

  9. When in doubt, I can always lean back on my sober thoughts from the past.

  10. Awareness is the key.

I’m thinking of taking another break from booze this Fall to see what other lessons are out there.

Beyond the obvious benefits, taking time off is a great way to gain perspective - and now I know there’s no wrong way to do it.