Allison Vesterfelt's Blog, page 15

It Shouldn’t Be This Hard (Or Should It?)

Yesterday was a hard day. It wouldn’t really help for me to explain why, especially because, by the time you read this “yesterday” won’t be the day I was talking about anyway.

Photo Credit: Oleh Slobodeniuk, Creative Commons

But it was one of those days, and you know the ones I’m talking about—the sleep-past-your-alarm, realize-your-favorite-shirt-is-in-the-wash, spill-toothpaste-on-your-other-shirt, change-three-times, late-to-your meeting, spill-your-coffee, lock-your-keys-in-your-car kind of day.

Everything was harder than it needed to be.

Well, harder than I thought it should be, in all my glory.

And all day I couldn’t get this mantra off my mind: It shouldn’t be this hard.

I don’t know where I picked up this little gem, but I was sure carrying it around like it was my baby. It shouldn’t be this hard to order a cup of coffee. It shouldn’t be this hard to get through airport security. It shouldn’t be this hard to find an outlet where I can plug in my computer. It shouldn’t be this hard to get a customer service representative to help me!

IT SHOULDN’T BE THIS bleeping HARD!

And of course, since I was having such a stellar day, I figured I would call my husband.

Because what husband doesn’t want to hear from his wife when’s she has totally lost sight of all reality? Duh. So I picked up the phone and dialed, ready to unload my burden and fully counting on him to fix everything. Except, as chance would have it, he wasn’t having a stellar day, either.

Within the first two minutes of our conversation I could tell he didn’t really want to talk to me (I mean… I can’t imagine why).

He was busy at work, he said calmly, and he didn’t have time to fix this for me. I would be fine, he told me, and gave me a few pieces of advice. We hung up the phone, and I was already seething to myself. Should it really be this hard to communicate? To get some help?

Now that I’ve calmed down, my “it shouldn’t be this hard” rant has me thinking.

Maybe it should be this hard.

Maybe everything in life worth doing is hard. Maybe sometimes we make it harder than it needs to be but, for the most part, even the simple things in life have their way of being complicated. Maybe a simple life isn’t the kind of life we want anyway. Is that possible?

And as I think back now, it makes me realize that hard days are the days which really  help me understand my character.

The impatience, the silent seething, the raising my voice to get my way—I’d like to think I was better than all of that (“Sorry, I was just having a bad day”), but the truth is I’m not. The truth is it wasn’t a bad day that brought it out of me. It was there all along.

And without bad days, I might never know it was there, and might never have a chance to overcome it.

So here’s to bad days—in case you’ve ever had one; in case you’re having one now.

Maybe it isn’t “supposed to be” this hard, but maybe it is. Maybe life is hard, and maybe that’s okay. Maybe “hard” is what’s fashioning us into the people we’ve always wanted to be.

The post It Shouldn’t Be This Hard (Or Should It?) appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

How I Stopped Obsessing And Got My Life Back

I used to have the hardest time making decisions.

Whether I was making a big decision or a small one—like where to go for college, or where to go to lunch—I would go back and forth for hours sometimes, weighing pros and cons and trying to figure out which was the best one. Sometimes I would waffle back and forth for so long I would miss my window to make the choice altogether.

Photo Credit: Hayden Petrie, Creative Commons

I’ll never forget one night when I was trying to decided, along with my husband, what movie to watch. It took me so long to decide, we actually missed all the movies.

This was one major consequence of my indecisiveness—missing out.

The other consequence, obviously, was the incredible waste of time this could be. I can remember times I would stand in the grocery store for ten minutes, trying to decide if we needed pickles or not. I could’t remember if we had them at home, and even if we did have them, which brand should I buy? Was it worth it to buy the more expensive one? Would I like this brand? Would my husband like them?

It seemed I was paralyzed by my inability to make a decision.

In addition to the loss of time, and my tendency to miss out on something great, another consequence of this problem was that I would often defer my decisions to other people.

If we were trying to decide where to go get lunch, I would go where everybody else wanted to go. If I was trying to decide where to go to college, I would go where my friends wanted to go. If I was trying to decide if I should buy a new pair of jeans, I would defer the decision to my husband.

This might not sound that terrible, but what I was really doing by deferring all of my important decisions was deferring my identity.

Before I knew it, I didn’t really know who I was or what I wanted.

Mostly, the paralysis came from the fear of making the “wrong” decision. Obviously, when it comes to many decisions, like choosing a movie, the “right” and “wrong” choice isn’t exactly black and white, but no matter the size of the decision, I think I was afraid of feeling regret after the fact. I was afraid of realizing later: I should have gone the other way. I put so much pressure on myself to have it all figured out.

Recently I’ve discovered a release from this pressure.

I was listening to an author speak, and she was talking about how people often obsess over their decisions, wondering which way is the “right” way and which way was the “wrong” way. You could tell she felt empathy for this obsession—as if she knew how trapped these people felt—but her words also came with an air of “will you get over this already?”

“You know how you make the right decision?” she asked. “You ask yourself why you are making the decision.”

When the why behind your decisions is right, the same end can be reached with two different paths.

Immediately, that idea resonated with me. My husband always talks about the invisible motives that are driving our decisions, and how important and powerful these motives are. Since he first brought up the idea several years ago, I’ve noticed that there are often unconscious motives (like fear or jealousy) driving my actions and decisions.

When I become aware of these motives, I regain control in areas where I thought I had lost it.

So when the author said this, I knew it sounded right. For me, this meant I could stop—literally stop right now—obsessing over my decisions. My motives were more important than my decisions. So even a bad decision, if it helped me uncover twisted motives, could be used for my benefit.

For me, this took all the pressure off.

While before it felt like life was a maze—where a “right” turn would point me toward the exit, and the “wrong” turn would keep me stuck in the maze forever—now I could see that it was so much more nuanced than that. The choice I made about pickles, or new shirts, or even college weren’t going to make or break my life. Each circumstance was an opportunity for me to check and adjust my motives.

Each circumstance was an opportunity to exercise my character.

Was I making this decision with good motives, or with bad ones?

Was I being selfish, or selfless?

Was I being loving, or fearful?

Every now and then I still catch myself tempted to obsess over choices.

But as soon as I do, I remind myself: The direction you choose to go (this movie or that movie) doesn’t matter nearly as much as your character does. And with that in mind, it actually makes choosing pretty easy.

After all, no matter which way I turn, my character is taking shape.

The post How I Stopped Obsessing And Got My Life Back appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

Weekend Reading

photo: Vinoth Chandar, Creative Commons

Each weekend I love to leave you with a list of the best things I have read on the Internet because, well, sometimes, you just need something great to read. I’m so excited to share these articles with you, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.

If you read something great this week, leave me a note in the comments. And mostly, enjoy your weekend. Do something awesome!

Better When by Jamie The Very Worst Missionary

In full disclose, this post wasn’t written this week. Heck, it wasn’t even published this week. But I read this this week, and loved it this week, and know you will love it too. Don’t you sometimes feel like your life will be “better, when…”?

Worry And Imagination: Two Sides of The Same Coin? by Michael Hyatt

Since worry has been a huge struggle I’ve faced, it was a relief to read this article. And it made me think that if I can redirect my “worried energy” to a better place, it can actually be really helpful.

The $99 Wedding Dress, by Caitlin Dewey (via The Washington Post)

You might wonder why on earth I’m sharing this article. After all, this blog doesn’t have anything to do with economics or weddings. Bu the thing I found fascinating and helpful about this article was the idea that awareness as a consumer can help us simplify your finances and our possessions by asking, “Do I really need that as much as I’m led to believe I do?”

In Which I Don’t Mind if My Tinies See Me On A Computer by Sarah Bessey

I don’t have kids, but as I consider what it might be like to add children to the equation—and feel unwilling to give up the work I do, which feels really satisfying—this article helped me breath a sigh of relief. There is room for both.

No Joke: Laughing Makes Us Smarter by Chad Allen

Why are we so afraid of letting our guard down to laugh a little? Are we afraid this leaves us open for attack? That it makes us seem unprofessional? And what might be we sacrificing for this fear? Excellent thoughts from Chad, and links to some things that will make you laugh this weekend.

Attempting Lent by Jenny Simmons

I know, I know. I’m only supposed to share five articles. But you know what? Who cares. It’s my blog and I’ll do what I want. I loved this hilarious and insightful article about trying to stay holy (kind of) while waiting at the DMV. You’re going to love it.

 

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You Don’t Need Anyone Else to Say, “You Can Do It!”

When I first decided to become a writer, I needed a little push.

I quit my full-time job, for example, to take a once-in-a-lifetime trip across the country to visit all 50 states (If that’s not a push out the door, I don’t know what is). If you read here regularly, you know the story. I sold everything, moved out of my apartment, and packed my car for a year long trip around the country.

Photo Credit: Meg Wills, Creative Commons

But it took quite a bit of coaxing from my friend to get me to do this. In fact, I almost bailed on the trip a few weeks before it started.

Later, when I had written a few dozen blog posts but hadn’t made much progress writing the book I wanted to write, I felt desperate for someone to say to me, “You’ve got this! You’re talented! You can do it!”

No one did this, and so I waited to start.

Months after that, toward the end of our trip, a friend coached me to say, at a party, “I’m a writer” even though I didn’t feel like it. I was reluctant, but eventually gave in, and got a job interview out of the deal. This was pretty much my path, early on in my writing career (which could hardly be called a career back then). It was up and down, up and down, based on outside encouragement.

And in the beginning of any journey, it makes sense that it would be this way. I think anyone who is just starting something needs a little nudge to get started. We just need someone to say, “Hey, I see what you see. You’re not crazy. In fact, you’re really talented. I believe in you. It’s time to get started.”

But my obsession with encouragement went beyond that.

I wasted hours and months and heaps of energy in those first few years, waiting for someone could tell me I could do it.

When the truth is I knew I could do it all along.

I wouldn’t have told you I knew I could do it. In fact, I probably would have told you I didn’t believe in myself, and my actions would have reflected that lack of self-confidence. But, somehow, in the deepest part of me, I knew I was on the right path. I knew I was made to create something beautiful. I just felt intimidated by the responsibility that meant I had.

This manifested itself in the form of anger.

I was angry at myself for not getting started, and angry at other people for not encouraging me enough, or not being willing to nudge me in the right direction. It was incredibly convenient, this way of thinking, because I could push the blame for my stalling tactics onto everyone else. “If only they would encourage me instead of criticize me,” I would tell myself, “they have no idea the influence they have.”

Then, one day, I just realized: It didn’t matter how much encouragement I received (because there had been a lot).

No amount would ever be enough.

If I were ever going to be successful as a writer (or as a wife, or mom, or business-owner, or speaker, or anything) I would have to stop waiting for outside approval to dictate my self of self-confidence. I’d already received enough encouragement. I didn’t need anymore. The self-assurance I was longing for couldn’t be handed from the outside, in. It had to be an inside job.

In other words, I would have to decided for myself that I mattered, that I was good enough, that I had what it took, that I was talented.

Then, instead of disappearing into a black hole, the encouragement I received would have a place to land.

So many of us are waiting for encouragement to get started.

We’re desperate for someone to say, “Yes! I see it; and I see you; and I think you’re really talented.” And in the beginning, maybe we need a little bit of this. In fact, let me just go ahead and help you out.

Here’s all the encouragement you need:

You can do this. You have what it takes. You are really talented.

My guess is, I’m not the first person to tell you this. Think of someone who has said these words to you in person—someone who knows you and does life with you and sees you up close. Then, ask yourself: Do I need more encouragement than that? Or am I just stalling? Am I asking someone else to lend me the sense of self-confidence only I can create for myself?

If so, maybe you don’t need to wait to get started anymore. Maybe you don’t need anyone to tell you “you can do it.”

Maybe you just need to discover it for yourself.

If you haven’t had a chance to read my full story yet, I have great news. My book Packing Light (eBook version) is on SALE on Amazon for $1.99, only today and tomorrow. If you’re curious about your life and calling, or you have a dream you’re not sure how to make a reality, don’t miss this steal of a deal!

The post You Don’t Need Anyone Else to Say, “You Can Do It!” appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

Excuse Me, Your Desperation Is Showing

Have you ever been so desperate for something you were willing to make all kinds of compromises to get it?

I have.

I felt this way after I finishing my first (and only) marathon. When I stumbled over the finish line, I was so desperate for food, I was literally willing to eat anything anybody would hand me. I have food allergies—and certain foods, like gluten, that I haven’t eaten in years. But somehow that didn’t register as a problem to me in the moment.

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Someone handed me a turkey sandwich—on a huge piece of bread—and I grabbed it and took a gigantic bite.

I was so desperate.

Of course, that’s an easy story for me to tell because, well, “hey, look at me, I ran a marathon” but the story I should also tell is about the time I stayed in an unhealthy relationship for way too long because I was desperate not to be single.

Desperation can be dangerous.

Desperation can cost us something.

My friend is a real estate agent and one of the first things she’ll teach you when you’re shopping for houses is about walk-away power. “Don’t ever get so attached to a house,” she explains, “that you lose your ability to walk away.”

If you do that, the seller retains all the power.

They can overcharge you, or make you jump through unnecessary hoops, or pit you against other buyers to raise the price. And, when I think about it, I realize the same is true in a lot of other areas of life.

When you’re so desperate (like I was) for a significant other, that you’re willing to take anyone who will have you, you wind up finding yourself in a situation that steals part of you from yourself. Or, more accurately, you just give it away. Worst of all, what you get in return doesn’t meet the need you were hoping it would meet in the first place. It’s a vicious cycle.

Not only is desperation dangerous, it’s also unattractive.

Don’t you think?

That’s the thing I tend to forget about desperation. It’s not just that it causes me to give away my power, but it’s incredibly ugly. When someone is living out of his or her desperation, we don’t take them seriously. We can’t take them seriously. They’re not presenting their real self.

It doesn’t matter if it’s dating, or eating, or shopping for a house.

When someone is willing to compromise what they truly want in order to get what they think they need, we roll our eyes, or shrug our shoulders. There is perhaps empathy and care, but not respect or admiration.

None of us want to live this way.

I guess I figured I had learned this lesson a long time ago, and in a way, I had. But I see it pop up all the time in my life these days. When it comes to vocation, for example, or to money, or even in the way I relate to my husband. I find myself sacrificing what I really want, believe or deserve because I’m desperate for something else.

I’ll keep my opinions to myself because I’m desperate for acceptance.

I’ll settle for less money than I usually charge on a certain project because I’m desperate for someone to tell me my time is worth it.

I’ll  take a job I don’t really want because I’m desperate for cash.

I’ll act in passive-aggressive or manipulative ways because I’m desperate for some ego-stroking or encouragement.

And lately, as I’ve caught myself doing this, all I can think is what my real estate friend says to her clients (in a lighthearted way) when she felt like they are getting too stuck on a particular house. “Excuse me, your desperation is showing,” she’ll say. And everyone will laugh, and realize she is right.

It doesn’t change what they want, but it helps them to retain their intrinsic power, and keeps them from doing something foolish.

So this is what I’ve been telling myself lately.

Each time I catch myself ready to make a decision out of desperation, instead of out of my values, my character, or my love, I stop and look in the mirror and say to myself, in a lighthearted way, “Excuse me, your desperation is showing.” It doesn’t change what I want, but it helps me refocus what I’m about and what I’m willing to sacrifice to get it.

And when we make decisions like this, instead of out of our desperation, we might have to live without something we want for a little longer, but we hold onto the things that are most valuable. And when the fulfillment of our desire finally comes, it’s so much more satisfying.

It’s the real thing, instead of a substitute.

Cash, instead of a counterfeit.

The post Excuse Me, Your Desperation Is Showing appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

Why Using Your Gifts Is Heroic

Do you ever wake up in the morning and wonder if it really matters if you use your gifts? After all, there are other people out there who are more talented than you, more experienced, who have more resources and more Twitter followers and more influence.

It’s just a book. Just a small business. Just music. Right?

Is worrying about our gifts and chasing our dreams just selfish?

I know it matters. I do. I tell people all the time how much it matters. But that doesn’t change the fact that sometimes I wake up wondering why it matters. Am I just trying to be happy? Should I leave the writing to the “professionals”?  Should I just get any old job that would pay my bills?

I know that dreaming isn’t selfish. I do. I feel it in my gut.

But how do I know?

Recently my husband and I went to a friend’s house for breakfast. He cooked eggs and bacon and pancakes and we all stood in the kitchen drinking coffee while he worked his magic. Our friend happens to be a songwriter, and an incredibly talented one at that. And because this friend is someone I consider to be even more selfless than he is talented, I couldn’t help but ask:

“How do you do it? How do you keep your gifts from becoming self-centered?

photo: brendan-c, Creative Commons

We talked about several things—about thinking through your audience, and considering how you can serve others with your craft, which of course brought up the question: “how do you balance considering your audience with staying true to your ‘art’?” (That was me asking the question, in my best hipster voice).

And when I asked that question, he looked at me out of the corner of his eye while he flipped the bacon.This is what he said: Let’s say we were in a war, Ally, and you and I were trying to escape from an enemy attack. Let’s say a bomb exploded and you lost your legs. Let’s say I wasn’t injured. What would I do?

I looked at him. I wasn’t totally sure what he would do, honestly.

I would “lend” you my legs to get you out alive, he said.

I would throw you over my back, and carry you to safety.

Wouldn’t that be heroic?

I nodded. It made sense. He was right it would be heroic, but I didn’t see the connection between saving someone from the inevitable death and writing music or books. He went on.

It’s really no different when it comes to our creative energy. “I can write songs,” he said. “It’s actually quite easy for me. It’s like having legs. But it’s really nothing special to have a gift, or to have legs. On the other hand, it’s something extraordinary to lend your gifts—to lend your legs—to someone else.”

That’s why I can’t stop thinking about the people who are listening to the music I write. Because writing songs is nothing. But lending my legs is heroic.

Ever since he said those words I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what would happen if we each thought of our gifts like this—like something we have that others don’t, like a pair of legs we can lend to someone who doesn’t have any. I wonder the kind of tenacity this would give us in sharing our gifts, and in strengthening them, so we would have even more to give.

I can’t stop thinking about what would happen if I got over myself and just started sharing what I’ve been given, started lending my legs.

I can’t help but think about how our gifts would turn from self-serving, to others-serving.

I’m not sure what your gift is.

Maybe it’s writing. Maybe it’s songwriting. Maybe it is managing finances, or growing companies or making kids feel precious and loved.

What would happen if you thought of it like a set of legs? What if you opened your eyes to the people around you who are in need of what you have? What if you lent what you have to them?

What if you lent them your legs?

I think it would be quite heroic. In fact, I think anything less would be selfish.

The post Why Using Your Gifts Is Heroic appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

Weekend Reading

photo: Vinoth Chandar, Creative Commons

Each weekend I love to leave you with a list of the best things I have read on the Internet because, well, sometimes, you just need something great to read. I’m so excited to share these articles with you, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.

If you read something great this week, leave me a note in the comments. And mostly, enjoy your weekend. Do something awesome!

1. The Secret to Not Being Overwhelmed by Jennifer Fulwiler

Do you ever feel totally overwhelmed by your spouse, your kids, or the amount of work you have to do? You’ll love the wisdom in this post and the freedom it gives you to let go of the things that don’t fit into your day.

2. A Call on 20-somethings by Hannah Brencher

Okay, so I’m not “technically” a 20something anymore, but I did identify with this post about what it looks like to flair around a little bit in your twenties, trying to “figure it out.” And you know, being 30 I can say it does get a little easier the older you get, but it doesn’t ever totally go away.

3. Want to Make Better Decisions? Here’s a Mental Trick by Donald Miller

I absolutely love this trick from my friend Don. I make much better decisions now than I did ten years ago, but I still use this trick all the time, especially when I’m picking between a few things and I’m not sure which is best.

4. Happiness is a Lousy Guide by Tyler Ward

Most of us want to be happy. I rarely meet anyone who would say they feel plenty happy and don’t need any more happiness in their life. But what if happiness is elusive? What if happiness isn’t the point? Check out this thoughtful and fascinating post.

5. Finding the Little Blisses: This is It by Sarah Kathleen Peck

In case you needed a double-dose of words about happiness today, check out this post. I was struck by how these two posts (this one and the one above) approach the subject of happiness in different ways, but ultimately have similar conclusions. Happy reading!

The post Weekend Reading appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

Five Things I Choose to Believe Every Morning

I’ll just say it. I’m prone to mood swings.  When I’m happy, I’m really happy. I feel it perfectly and intensely and could almost spill over with the sensation of being totally filled up and satisfied. At the same time, when I’m upset, or angry, I’m perfectly upset or angry.

No matter the logic you use, you’ll be hard pressed to talk me out of feeling that way.

Photo Credit: Vince Alongi, Creative Commons

Feeling things is a gift. I choose to view it that way. It is what makes me a good writer, and it is also what makes me highly empathetic to others.

And yet, I have to admit there are times this doesn’t always feel like a gift.

There are times I wish I could not empathize with someone because it hurts to feel empathy, and because when you empathize too much with too many people, after awhile you begin to feel the weight of the whole world on your shoulders.

There are also times (when I blow things out of proportion) that my tendency to feel deeply can alienate me from relationships, disconnect me from reality, and prevent me from making calm, clear-headed choices. There are times when my tendency to over-emote can derail my entire day.

Recently I’ve been focusing on keeping my mood swings in check by reminding myself of a few things I choose to believe—despite how I feel—every morning.

The list goes like this:

1. The world is a good place where good things often happen

Of course bad things sometimes happen too, but when I start my day with the assumption that good things often happen, my attention tends to be drawn to the good things that happen to me and around me. When an outcome is hanging in the balance, this assumption keeps me from wasting time with needless worry.

Either way, focusing on good things keeps me from catastrophizing my life. Even if I have a bad day, chances are tomorrow will be better.

2. People are not out to get me

Assuming that people are not out to get me (that most people, most of the time, are doing the best they can) keeps me from overreacting when someone does something I don’t like, that frustrates me or hurts my feelings.

I can’t fully understand the motives behind others’ actions, but I also can’t control them. I can only assume that their motives weren’t to hurt me, and I can choose to grow—rather than retaliate—when I’m offended.

3. What feels like a “crisis” is rarely as tragic as it seems

The things that feel like a “crisis” in our daily life—missing a flight, running out of gas, being late for a job interview, even a bad injury—will rarely seem as tragic when we look back on it two, five or ten years from now.

I try to remind myself of this fact at the beginning of each day, so that when “crisis” comes I can stay calm and make clear-headed choices.

4. I still have a lot to learn

Keeping this in mind keeps me from the fruitless task of trying to change the mind of someone who thinks differently than me. It keeps me humble and teachable, and allows me to approach life with my eyes wide open.

It keeps me from getting frustrated with others who have a lot to learn too. After all, we all do.

5. The game isn’t rigged

I don’t know about you, but sometimes it feels like the “game” of life is rigged. Some people are set up to be successful. Others aren’t. Some have the resources. Others don’t.

The truth is we’re all dealt a different hand in life, but the game isn’t rigged. We all get out what we put in (we reap what we sow). The journey is the reward.

The post Five Things I Choose to Believe Every Morning appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

How to Keep Failure From Ruining Your Day

Recently I slept through my alarm and missed a flight.

If I’d spent time to think about it rationally, I would have realized it wasn’t that big of a deal. I would get a flight out later in the day. but I’d barely gotten any sleep the night before, and it was an important day, and 4am is a time to day it feels hard to think rationally.

photo: Dog Mom of Five, Creative Commons

I scrambled to put my clothes on, threw my remaining things in my suitcase, and begged my husband to speed me off to the airport, but it was no use. We knew before we even got in the car that I wasn’t going to make it. And by the time we arrived at the terminal, I was in tears. My flight had already taken off.

I was upset for a variety of reasons.

I’d had the morning all planned out in my mind, first of all—how I was going to get my tea and sit peacefully at the gate and be in “Zone 1,” one of the first people on the plane. I felt so sad and immature, sleeping through my alarm clock like I was in high school again.

I worried about how much money it would cost to change the flight and felt panicked that I wouldn’t make it to my destination on time.

I felt like a total failure.

And yet, before I got out of the car, my husband grabbed by hand and looked me right in the eye and said, in his usual, nothing-phases-me voice, “Hey, you’re okay. It’s over. You’re still going to make it to your destination. Don’t let this ruin your day.”

I nodded, just praying I could actually take his advice.

I headed straight for the Delta counter and told them what had happened and they were quick to remedy the situation. They switched my flight and got me onto a flight that would land me in my destination with a minimal delay. I got through security in record time, walked to the bathroom and brushed my hair and my teeth (since I hadn’t had a chance to do that before I left the house).

That’s when I realized I had a choice to make.

My circumstances had changed. They were better. The problem had been fixed. Literally no one knew about my apparent “failure” except me and my husband. But it was like my ability to feel sadness and discouragement and shame was so learned, it was so easy for me to “get there,” that my mind and heart and spirit went there anyway.

I think of it like ski tracks going down a mountain. When the track has been made by a dozen previous runs, it’s hard to take a different path.

You get stuck (quite literally) in your own rut.

I thought about what Darrell had said.

“It’s over. Don’t let this ruin your day.”

And I thought about what my friend Mike said when he spoke at a conference recently. He said, “Just because you make a mistake doesn’t mean you are a mistake. Just because you failed doesn’t mean you’re a failure.”

And so instead of letting my skis point in the direction of the previous path, I chose to go a different route. It takes more strength to ski down brand new snow—you have to carve a new way—but the only other option is to keep going down that same sad, discouraging track over and over again.

And I just decided I didn’t want to do that.

I just decided I wanted that to change. So I reminded myself of a few things I knew for sure. I’m not a failure. People make mistakes. What feels like a “crisis” is rarely as tragic as it seems. I told myself not to cry. Crying wasn’t going to help anything, and there was no need. No need to be sad, no need to feel discouraged.

And just like that, my pattern changed.

Just like that, I felt the day come back, my mental clarity come back, my mood return to something resembling normal and stable.

That makes it sound easier than it was.

For the rest of the day, I was fighting that old, learned rut in the snow. I had to admit I was overreacting, that my feelings were unreliable, and that they were lying to me about the reality of this particular situation. I had to remind myself, over and over, that everything was going to be okay.

But I did it. And after you ski down a slope once, it becomes more likely you’ll land in that rut later.

Who knows. After awhile, perhaps it will even become easy.

The post How to Keep Failure From Ruining Your Day appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

Three Reasons You Don’t Know What You Want

In one sense, it seems like it would be easy to admit exactly what you want. After all, who doesn’t want the opportunity to voice their opinion get what they want?

And yet, I talk to people all the time (I am one of them) who have a really hard time knowing or admitting what they want.

Photo Credit: Paul Stocker, Creative Commons

From something as simple as, “where you do want to go to dinner?” to something as complicated as “where do you want to go to college?” or “Who do you want to marry?” maybe you find yourself thinking: I just don’t know.

That’s where I found myself a few years ago. When it came to smaller decisions, it wasn’t that big of a problem. If I was with a group of friends, and we were deciding where to go for dinner or what movie to watch, I prided myself on being flexible. I would let everyone else make the decision and just “go with the flow.”

I figured this was a good quality, and in many ways it was.

But even when it came to the bigger decisions in my life—like what jobs I was going to take, or who I was going to date or marry, I just never really felt like I knew exactly what I wanted. And in this case, the tendency I had to waffle back and forth between wanting one thing, and then wanting another, drove me crazy.

It felt like I wanted something different depending on what people around me wanted, and that frustrated me to know end.

What did I want?

Then, one day, a friend asked me a question that totally changed my life. She said, “What would you do with your life if you could do anything—if you didn’t have to think about what would make other people happy, or about paying your bills or about fitting in with your particular group of friends?”

At first her question frustrated me. It seemed selfish and wrong to answer a question like that. Who really got to live their life without considering what others would think? Who was able to really quit thinking about money?

Nobody, right?

But in many ways, my life started at that moment.

It wasn’t until I allowed myself to answer this question that I found peace and clarity I was longing for.

Since then, I’ve thought a lot about what it is that keeps us from admitting, owning, knowing or chasing what we really want—what it was that kept me from engaging that question. And if I look deep enough into my own heart, I realize there are three things that were keeping me from answering this question in an honest way.

First, we think it’s selfish to want stuff.

This was something that kept coming up in my spirit over and over again, and every time I ask people the “what would you do if you could do anything” question, I get a similar response. People say, “Before I do anything, I just want to make sure my motives are pure.”

The problem is, what I discovered when I finally allowed myself to want something was  admitting my desire was the first step to purifying my motives.

As I moved toward a life of meaning, by listening to what I desired, my motives were naturally refined.

It’s not selfish to want stuff. In fact, one of the most selfless things we can do is to dream. Not only is dreaming humbling, dreaming changes us, and changes those around us. Our dreams might not change the whole world, but they will change the part of the world we live in.

Second, we’re waiting on God to tell us what we should want.

Before I quit my full-time job, I would have told you I was “waiting on God” to show me what to do with my life; and I talk to dozens (if not hundreds) of people who say the same thing. I wrote a whole post about why I think this is the wrong approach, but the main idea is this:

What if, while we’re busy “waiting on God,” He’s busy waiting on us?

What if he’s asking, “Okay, so what do you want to do with your life?”

Finally, we’re afraid we don’t have what it takes to get what we want

A huge part of why I was afraid to admit what I wanted was because I was scared I would never get it. I really wanted to be a full-time writer but I didn’t know many full-time writers, and for some reason I just assumed it was a profession for a few elite or lucky people who happened to be able to achieve that type of success.

For me, I figured, I should just stick with what I knew could work.

What I didn’t realize was that most people (I might even venture to say all people) who get what they truly want in life get it not because of extraordinary luck or in-born talent, but because they are willing to admit what they want, willing to go without it for a time, and willing to work their butts off to achieve it.

At some point, I just realized: wouldn’t it be better to admit what I truly wanted, even if I never got it?

Wouldn’t that be more satisfying than going the rest of my life without being honest about myself?

The post Three Reasons You Don’t Know What You Want appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.