A friend of mine asked on twitter the other day what your 2017 word of the year would be – and I thought for awhile and finally said: RESIST. Because I’ve been politically minded for a month now and it’s hard to think of anything else.

But then I thought about it a little bit. I still know that’s going to be an important part of my year…monitoring politics and lending my voice and my hand to resist changes I don’t support. However, that’s not what I want the year to be about. I would love to be optimistic that my resistance is only needed in small moments here and there, so maybe I should think of a more optimistic word.

And then I decided: Connections.

I would like to be more deliberate about taking moments to make making real connections with the people I’m interacting with. I’ve been working several years on being a better listener and this year I want to REALLY focus on that. I’ve gotten better about making sure I ask questions in conversations (that took about two years to train myself to do, I’ll be honest) but I still tend to get excited in conversation and think about what I want to say next. I want to enrich connections by being present and focusing on what the person is saying as they’re saying it.

I want to make sure I keep this in my mind with my family as well. I’m bad about giving my friends or new people more of my attention in conversation than I do my family. I would never sit and stare at my phone if I’m having a conversation with you – but I would do that with my husband and my kids. Which is terrible, I know.

I want to work on making sure any moment I’m connecting with someone – that moment and that person is what is holding my attention. Not my To Do list, not my social media feed, not my next engagement. This is not some sort of altruistic thing either, it’s really deeply selfish. I like the way real moments with people make ME feel. I want to try to enrich the connections I’m making with people because – as I’ve conquered a lot of my social anxieties – I really find I’m given new energy when I walk away from a good encounter. And on the other side of the spectrum, I feel terrible when I walk away and realize Shit. I bogarted that conversation. I want to make sure I’m allowing for real connections with people, everyone from the cashier at Publix to my trail running friends who I’ve met for a beer. Because they MAKE ME HAPPIER.

There are tons of other things I’m going to try to do this year, I want to focus on writing, I want to get my health back in check, I want to SELL THIS DAMN HOUSE (Inspection is today, please keep your fingers crossed for us) and I want to be very proactive in making this world better. There are specific items on my To Do list for the year and I’m packed full of resolutions. But – if I choose one word that I want to focus on for the year, it will be CONNECTIONS.

Here’s to enriching our lives by connecting to others. Welcome 2017.

Stuck In The Roundhouse. Off The Track.

We’ve had some weird issues lately as it relates to Wesley and the challenges of raising a child who struggles with processing some emotions. While I’m no longer comfortable sharing his story online, I find myself daily wishing I had friends who I could call who really understood these challenges. Just last night I was thinking, No one. I know no one in real life I can call right now to seek counsel. There needs to be support groups, the problem is it’s not an easily compartmentalized or categorized struggle. It’s not autism. It’s not ADD. There’s no physical ailment. My kid struggles with processing shame and anxiety and resorts to anger. There’s no cute logo to put on my license plate to find other parents struggling. The best I can do is hang out at Target and find the kid pitching the tantrum and the Mom doing everything she can to remain calm (because – due to various counseling from therapists and doctors and books and TED talks – remaining calm is always a must) and just walk up to her, slip her a bottle of wine with my phone number on it and whisper in her ear: Call me.

I think she would find that creepy though. Right?

I don’t know. I’m also feeling a little anxious because this entry has gotten shared a few more times than my usual stuff in a few more different platforms and I’m keeping an eye on it. I’m happy people relate to it, VERY happy, as I think it’s important for all of us to recognize our privilege, but THE INTERNET IS FULL OF CRAZY PEOPLE. But when my stats spike for ANY reason I start to panic a little. Once I wrote an entry about how we should quit hating on people who shop on Thanksgiving and quit forgetting that some people need that double-wage day to help with Christmas and HOLY SHIT. That thing got shared like 20K times and I got all of the crazies in all of the land. I had to finally close down comments because I was deleting mean ones (MY BLOG, MY RULES) left and right. And I’m like, If an entry defending shopping on Thanksgiving brings out this much rage, then one about white privilege is going to get really hairy.

I also had to attend a social event last night where there was a lot of people in a small space and you all know my anxieties develop exponentially in those situations. The more people in the smaller space the worse my anxiety. People think anxiety attacks are hyperventilating and freaking out but for me? My anxiety attacks manifest in a few different ways, but the most common way is my whole brain starts to shut down. I try to become part of the furniture or wall or floor and just freeze in some sort of catatonic state. I’m terrible. People kept thinking there was something wrong with me and I’m like, “Oh – don’t mind me. Just faulty chemistry in my brain and this much stimulation and socializing causes all of my neurons to misfire making me unable to relax or enjoy myself! I’m dying on the inside! Merry Christmas!”

UGG. Seriously. I hate myself some days.

And let’s don’t even start on how my running has stopped completely. I came away from my last crazy race weekend with some crazy shin splints and a lot of apathy and the two combined have not done anything to motivate me. Then send my husband away on business for a week and me having no family to turn to for help (see first paragraph) and I just sat on my butt all week.

Ugg. Some days, you know? It’s just like your brain is trying to handle several different conflicts at once and you just cant seem to get on track going in any direction? My train has been derailed inside a roundhouse. Not only am I off track, but there are 14 options in front of me and I can’t even decide which track to finally head down when I get back on which makes me lose all motivation to right myself. I’ll just lay here upside down in my engine car hoping there’s snacks somewhere.

Tomorrow will be better, I’m sure. The rain is supposed to clear which will be nice as I haven’t seen the sun in several days.

Celebrating Faking It.

I read this article yesterday about the imposter syndrome (which is one of my favorite syndromes) and it really hit home.

There are moments in my clarity about cluelessness when I get to witness a remarkable thing. A coworker makes a brilliant point. My co-parent practices superhuman patience with our angry toddler. A friend performs an act of extreme generosity. When that happens it’s like a flash goes off in the room. You see it. When someone does something truly good when you understand that no one knows what they’re doing, you notice. You appreciate. You feel like you’ve leveled up just bearing witness to the thing. These are the moments you think, Humans are awesome. Anything is possible. I have a lot to learn. It’s a good feeling.

I love this idea even when applied to ourselves. That if we find the truth in our ineptitude and not shy away from it, we can also find true pride in our successes. If you’re trying to convince yourself you’re awesome at everything, you might miss when you are really truly awesome at something.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the minutes in my day and how I spend those. I’m valuing self-care a lot more, not trying to pack it all in to the point where the anxiety of “it all” paralyzes me and I do nothing. Nope. I’m avoiding that trap now, but I’m still trying to find that balance. That balance between productivity and peace. I sleep better knowing I’ve done something important with my time, but if I try to do too much important I don’t sleep at all. And part of trying to find this balance is really trying to find truth in my talents and my faults. I don’t want to waste time by doing something I’m terrible at, no matter how much I think someone else wants/needs me to do it.

It’s the first day of December and I want to use the next 31 days really trying to forge new habits so that I call allow for greater effectiveness in how I change the world. I’ve been driven to action since the election (see here: but I don’t have a lot of spare time so I’ve been really thinking about that balance and how I choose what to give attention to. I don’t have a real formula yet – but I’m definitely working on it 🙂

Here’s to not being afraid of our faults because none of us really know what we’re doing.

The Power Of Actually Answering A Good Question.

“How Do You Want To Show Up In The World?”

This is a question I am supposed to be working on in…um…my…uh….book club! Yeah! My book club! (My friends in any of my book clubs are thinking What? We are?) Totally not something I’ve talked about with any mental health professional! No way! ‘Cause I’m totally not someone who would talk about therapy every day! Nope!


It’s a good question. But there are a lot of good questions out there. (I’m also working on these questions posed by Leah Peterson.) We hear these type of good questions and we think about them for a few minutes and maybe our scope is expanded for a moment as we ponder them, but then the dryer dings, or our boss comes in, or our kid swears he’s starving and then we kinda move on with our lives. Maybe we answer them in a vague sense in our heads for a moment, but we don’t really answer them like all good questions deserve to be answered.

So. My…book club insisted that this question be answered in a practical sense. So I kept a page in my bullet journal accessible where I scratched out ideas for a few days, and then yesterday I tried to clean it up a bit so that I could really hash it out in my favorite way this morning:


The first thing I kept coming back to, is that I want to be a good listener. This sounds a little more charitable than I truly intend. The truth of the matter is that I just really like really rich conversations and I love learning from other people. I love laughing at other people’s self-deprecating stories. I love expanding my view from other people’s histories. I love connecting with vulnerabilities. I just love good conversation, but mostly I love being on the listening end of good conversation because I’m much better at talking when I’m behind a keyboard. I don’t want anyone to think I’m being at all charitable…I don’t like listening for how it helps the person I listen to, I like listening for how it helps me.

But then I thought about times I’ve not really liked conversations I’ve been in, where they’ve sucked me dry instead of built me up. So I started thinking more about how I want to attract positive energy in the world. I want to put out the kind of energy in the world that pulls in the kind of people who want to build each other up, instead of tear each other down. I want to attract people willing to be vulnerable with me, willing to recognize our own privilege and our own need to put into the world what we want to get out of it.

So, how do I attract that kind of person?

I become that kind of person. And I really think I’m there more and more every day. Mainly because I am building a personal tribe of truly beautiful people. And you can attract a beautiful spirit by accident, but I’ve got an arsenal of them in my life and I feel like – in that quantity – I must be doing something right.

I don’t think it’s about being Happy! Happy! Happy! all the time. But I think it’s about being sincere and…god I hate this word because it’s become so overused but…AUTHENTIC. I want to be authentic. I don’t necessarily want to try to be the person who I think the world can love, I want to love who I am so the person I present to the world can also be loved. Does that make sense?

(SIDENOTE: My dishwasher is broken so it’s BREAK THE SOUND BARRIER LOUD. When it’s running I have to put in headphones with music so I don’t hear it. So, I’m trying to write this really profound and introspective entry with music blaring in my ears to drown out the dishwasher. I’m not sure this is really conducive to logical thought flows.)

When I think about building a community of good people, my instinct is to think I accomplish this by being the court jester or Mary Poppins. The kind of happy and joyful person who sings songs even when she has to take medicine or makes jokes that makes everyone laugh. But that’s not true. I think to really attract the kind of people I truly want in my life – people willing to have tough and honest conversations about how to make this world a better place – I need to be authentic. I need to be vulnerable in my faults. I need to be able to laugh and to smile, but I also need to be willing to admit my errors and discuss my wounds because it’s when we’re vulnerable with each other that we make real connections. The court jester who performs only keeps the crowd while she’s performing. I want to keep the crowd indefinitely. I can’t change the world by myself, but if I build a tribe of like-hearted people maybe we can change the world together?

I want to celebrate complexities. I know that sounds profound, but it’s really not. I spent years trying to fit into some group…Was I grunge? Did I hang with the punks? The hippies? The goths? Was I trading Grateful Dead bootlegs? Was I obsessed with owning all of the Doc Martens? Was I outdoorsy and did I know all of recent Widespread Panic setlists by heart? I spent years trying to build a facade of who I thought people liked. But over the last decade (or two) I’ve been settling in to the realization that sometimes I want to hippy-dance around the house listening to Scarlet Begonias and other times I want to jam to Katy Perry. Sometimes I want to read books that open my mind to other cultures and histories, and other times I want to read about vampires. Sometimes I watch documentaries about modern slavery (which you should all watch) and other times I watch non-stop superhero television (which you should also watch). I don’t want to classify people as in single categories and not allow for nuance. This goes for me and for everyone I meet. Just because I know you’re a Christian or a Trump supporter doesn’t mean I can’t find something to learn from you. We are all complex. I don’t believe in God, but I believe in prayer. Complexities are to be celebrated, not discouraged.

There are two other words on my notes page I’ve been trying to hash out into more complex ideas: Art. Bravery. I’m not sure what I want to do with those words and how I want to expound on them in how I show up in the world. But I know they’re both important.

I’m scared of a lot of things. As I grow older I choose which fears might be worth tackling. After Dad died I decided my fear of people and of leaving my house needed to be tackled. Last night I had dinner with 10+ amazing women and I felt at home and comfortable in the presence of these women at an event I more-or-less organized myself. It was a discreet event where I was trying to create a safe place for liberal women to talk and vent, hard to “promote” if you don’t want to alienate people. But my efforts worked and I had amazing energy-filled conversations with strong like-minded women and I thought to myself, That was very brave of you, Kim.

I don’t want to conquer my fears of driving or travel or anything yet, but I want to push myself outside of my safety boundaries in ways that I think may help expand my world view without sending me into a catatonic state of panic. So, I guess I want to be brave,…but MY kind of brave. Not the “bungee jumps” kind of brave. Not the, “travels to Europe alone” kind of brave. Not the, “makes left hand turns” kind of brave. But maybe the, “Needs a meal with inspirational women so plans it herself” kind of brave.

And now: ART. I like to look at writing as art. But I also like to look at my bullet journaling as art. And my doodling. I look at ART as anything I create as a way to express something I’m feeling. My friend Leah also posted this: “‘I can’t talk about it. I need to art about it.’ -Me, not making sense but making total sense.” And that’s when I wrote the word “ART” down in my notebook. YES. I have to art about it. Sometimes that means staring at this compose screen on my blog and hashing out my thoughts with my words. But other times it means zendoodling and just meditating on something while I color simple shapes. Other times I’m feeling anxious and overwhelmed so I draw out my weeks in my bullet journal to sort out the chaos. I want to write. I want to continue to put my words into the ether as a way of keeping my mind right. But also…I want to art. Right now that seems to be meditative doodling, but I’m also not against other forms of art down the road. I just know there are many times I have things inside of me that feel like they’re fighting their way out, and writing mostly helps, but I’m open to other means of release as well.

There’s no simple answer to a question as complex as: How do I want to show up in the world? I’ve proved that with my 1600+ words here. But man, it’s a good question to actually sit down and try to answer. I think there’s one last thing that I’ve been a little hesitant to write because it sounds a bit narcissistic and I feel like it needs a LOT of explanation but: I want to inspire. This sounds lofty and maybe pompous and definitely pretentious and presumptuous. But it has two parts: 1) I have been inspired by friends and family and I would love to return the favor but also 2) I have taken journeys in self-exploration and self-development that have bettered my life in so many ways and I want other people to see that and be inspired to take their own. It’s not as much as I want people to say, “Kim inspires me!” I want people to say, “Kim’s journey inspires me to take my own!”

Eek. That still sounds super pretentious and self-righteous. Maybe I’ll hash that one out a little more.

And what about you? How do you want to show up in the world? My *ahem* book club *ahem* totally wants to know.

The Path To Self Love.

I’ve been thinking this week about the idea (this is where I pretend this “idea” was not introduced to me by my therapist even though it totally was because I worry I’m becoming the girl who always talks about therapy) that you should be careful what you’re looking for, because you might find it. I’ve been thinking about it a lot as it relates to my personal judgement of myself. Whether I’m critiquing my terrible consistency with running or my lackadaisical parenting or my half-assed domestic life, I seem to be always looking for the things I’ve screwed up. The things I’ve done wrong. The things I’ve not done that should have been done. And because I’m always looking for those things, I always find them.

If I consider this with my trail building metaphor, then you can basically assume that my trail that looks for mistakes and errors and failures is the Appalachian Trail and has been traveled by millions of people over 50+ years. It’s been mapped out and written about and competed on. This trail is a trail everyone knows and everyone loves.

But it’s time to move it.

It’s time that I work on forming new pathways in my brain that have my subconscious looking for the good things I do every day. I’ve been committing microaggressions against myself with the constant barrage of criticisms. But I’ve been doing it for SO LONG and that path is such a clear one to take through the woods, that I’m not sure how to get from the beginning of my day to the end of my day without it.

Which is why it will take time to form the new habit. And break the old one.

I started a little yesterday. I had gotten behind on housework so I opted to skip my run and instead of beating myself up about it, I forced myself to recognize the good I was doing in catching up on housework in case we had a showing for our house. When Donnie woke up I told him the long list of stuff I had already done that morning. I went to work feeling good that my house was closer to “show ready” than it would have been if I had gone for a run. I applauded myself for the good instead of criticizing the failure. There’s no concrete “right” and “wrong” about how we spend our moments, but there is most definitely a “wrong” in how we judge ourselves for those decisions.

I recently skipped doing laundry so I could curl up and read my book. I couldn’t even enjoy the book because I was beating myself up about the laundry. That’s the tried-and-true trail through the woods. So, last night when I opted to color for a bit instead of wash dishes, I stopped my brain when it started shifting to “criticizing mode” and praised myself.


It’s tough though. My daughter is having some common tween body image issues and last night we spent some good time together buying a new outfit (she’s looking at clothes that no longer fit “right” as proving she’s “fat” as opposed to proving she’s simply growing) and having long talks about how we talk to ourselves. My habit though, is to wonder where I went wrong. I kept catching myself looking through all of the parenting I’ve done in the last 11 years and finding moments where I screwed up and finding ways to blame her current self-hatred, on myself.

Do you see the irony?

I’m beating myself up over the fact that my daughter was beating herself up.

While I’m preaching about self-love, I’m practicing self-hatred.

So, I sat in bed last night and closed my eyes and praised myself. I reflected on the vulnerability we were able to share and how that will surely have a positive ripple effect. I was practical in my explanations and we discussed healthy eating habits (which she has plenty of) and unhealthy habits and how we should show our love to our body by feeding it well and in the end, that matters more than anything else. We had long talks and regardless on my part in this spiral to begin with, I helped her come back up out of it and I made a point to truly look at all of the positive things I said and did as a Mom last night.

The best way to teach my daughter how to love herself, is to show her I love myself.

So I’m slowly making a new trail through the woods. It’s hard to see and sometimes it’s so unfamiliar I get lost and find my way back to the old trail, but I’ve started the work. And as long as I tend to this new path more regularly than I travel the old one, it will slowly become the easier one to travel. I’m going to stop looking for my failures at every turn and instead look for my successes. I’m not going to look in the mirror and hate my blue jeans, but look in the mirror and love my bracelet. I’m not going to try to find the ways I created a problem and instead try to look for the positive ways I can be the solution. I’m slowly but surely trying to make “Looking For Things To Praise” the new default mode instead of “Looking For Things To Criticize.”

So that when I find what I’m looking for, I can be happy about it.