I still close my eyes and go home- I can always draw from that. ~ Dolly Parton

This week I’ve traded in the hustle and bustle of NYC for some R&R with my family in Southern California. Wherever you are I hope your home is filled with memories that inspire you.

{If you need a vacation from home, check out this little iPhone video I made from my recent travels. Just be sure to let it load for a few seconds to avoid skip-age}

The next Show & Tell newsletter is just around the corner! Sign up here to get your weekly dose of storytelling inspiration.

As promised in yesterday’s post about the importance of editing when telling our stories, this video is my little labor of love.

I wanted to share my story in a way my words couldn’t.

May I present to you:

Disappear

(Note: You may want to let to the video load for a few seconds before watching to ensure a smooth viewing and clearer image)

{For more on the experience, feel free to peruse these past posts:}

Travel Narratives

The Best of Times, The Worst of Times: A Bus Ride In Myanmar

Building A Strong Foundation: New Beginnings For A New Year

Project Runway: The Making of A Blue Dress

Leveling Expectations: A Meeting of the Monks in Luang Prabang

An Effective Escape: Bamboo Nest in Chiang Rai

Running In Bangkok

Lessons in Travel

Returning to Civilization: A Passing of Time

Struggling to Understand

A Changing Perspective: What Travel Is Teaching Me

Friday Photo:

Friday Photo: My Favorite Color

Friday Photo: A Love Story of Epic Proportions

Friday Photo: Where the Straight Way Was Lost

~Frederick Wiseman, American Documentary Filmmaker

There’s one final but important step to refining our stories.

The edit.

For many of us, this step can be excruciating. I’m not a Type A personality. I prefer forward motion and broad strokes to nitpicking and clarifying.

But I recently discovered that editing does much more than polish or troubleshoot. Editing is where the story becomes a story rather than a goup of individual moments.

Editing is also where we can find hidden gems that have the ability to completely alter the story.

Tomorrow I’ll be sharing a little 4-minute 53-second video of my travels in Southeast Asia. I knew the overall feeling I wanted to convey when I sat down to the computer to edit, but it wasn’t until I actually began meddling with the 400 iPhone clips (yes- it was shot entirely on my iPhone) that I discovered how the story would take shape.

And surprisingly, I loved the process! I loved that there was no right or wrong way to edit. I loved that each time I thought I was nearly finished, I’d stumble across a clip that told the story better. I loved that I began to interpret the images differently with each viewing.

That’s not to say the process was easy. Editing can be agonizing. Every frame has to be accounted for. (iPhones shoot 30 frames per second). That’s a whole lotta choices to make.

When it comes to making those choices, the hardest part of the editing process is deciding what to leave out.

It’s painful. We feel a kinship to our work. We don’t want to abandon those stories to the abyss!

But in editing a movie, or any story (including our own), there comes a time when we have to choose what stays and what goes. We have to chip away until we reach a point when we feel in our gut that we’ve told the best story we can.

And when we find ourselves staring blankly at the monitor or in the mirror, there are two ways to get unstuck:

1. Try it out. Place this clip here and that one there. Doesn’t feel right? Move them around again. Shorten one, lengthen another.

Like the first version better?

Press Command Z.

Voila! We can go back to the previous version, only this time without wondering what could have been.

2. Ask one simple question: Does this choice add or subtract from the story?

More often that not, this one question points us in the right direction.

However we edit our stories, it’s imperative to keep in mind:

The audience doesn’t care about what gets left on the cutting room floor. They just want to watch a good story.

Make the choices that need to get made.

Tell the story.

Leave the rest.

Speaking of improving our stories, the new Show & Tell website will be up next week! Make sure you’re on the list to get in all the action—> THE LIST

As promised in this week’s newsletter, today we’re having a chat about the value of being multifaceted. (High quality diamonds are multifaceted as to best reflect and filter light. This gives them sparkle.)

But this is not a post where I wax poetic about how to balance all your numerous interests, nor is it where I’ll write about branching out and trying new things. There are countless other blog posts that can talk about this in a much more prolific way than I ever could.

A Matter of Need

I’m sure many of you are familiar with Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.

Refresher course:

Now, I’m not one to argue with a Brandeis professor of psychology, but I do think as a human race we may be interpreting his model a tad incorrectly. I mean yes, of course, we all need basic things like food and sleep. But this pyramid image often creates the assumption that the peak of the pyramid (Self-Actualization) can only be achieved or strived for after the lower levels of the structures have been accomplished.

This ideology is how most of us make decisions. We attempt to eliminate risk by focusing the vast majority of our attention, time, and energy to the lower levels of the pyramid. We tell ourselves we’re paving the way so that we can focus on the rest of the pyramid at some point.

For example, we think we’ll have more confidence (Esteem) once we get a better paying job (Safety) or find the spouse of our dreams (Love/Belonging). We see this methodology often in advertising as well: If we buy this skin cream or lipstick shade or diet drink, we’ll be loved and therefore happy. This “stuff” may make us feel better about ourselves for a short amount of time, but I believe this is a false sense of confidence.

A New Model

What if, instead, we turn the pyramid upside down? And then we give the pyramid a filter.

Through the filter goes all of our life experiences, good and bad. Our relationships, our hopes and dreams, our bank statements- all of them get pushed through one way or another.

Ok, now imagine that instead of just one filter, each level of Mr. Maslow’s hierarchy gets a filter of it’s own. With each level, all of our experiences (and interests and passions) pass through another layer, until finally, reaching the point of no return.

That point is us. At our core. Everything we do, have had done to us, experienced, thought, breathed, touched, everything affects us to some degree. Not everything has the same impact, of course. Some things don’t make it past our physiological needs. Others go straight to the depths of our soul.

But a piece of it all gets through.

Our Job

Our primary job is not to determine precisely what goes into the upside down pyramid. Yes, we have a say in what goes in, but we don’t have total control. Much gets added that we didn’t bargain for. That’s ok. It will get filtered as necessary.

Our job is to make something brilliant with the experiences that do make it all the way through to our very being.

Life Defined

All experiences in life are life. Each and every moment. We need them. They become our stories, and we become theirs.

This is why I believe in creating, inspiring, and participating in as many interests, passions, and adventures as our hearts desire. Everything goes through the filter so we can be sure that what remains is the most alive version of ourselves.

So go ahead: Be multifaceted! Embrace experiences!

A well-lived life will outshine the rest.

{Psst! SHOW & TELL just got a Facebook Page! I’d be honored and thrilled if you’d “like” it. )

As promised in yesterday’s newsletter, this month we are taking a look at REFINE, with the image of a diamond as our muse and the four elements of diamond grading as our weekly guides.

First up: Clarity

Confession: I had no idea what I was going to write about clarity. Who am I to talk about this? I’m a questions girl. Last week I wrote about ambiguity. I like the grey. The undefined.

But I said I would write about it. So I did what any amateur blogger in search of inspiration would do: I called upon Wikipedia.

I love Wikipedia.

I also love when my assumptions are proved wrong. Let me explain.  In terms of diamonds, I thought clarity meant unscratched, polished, transparent.

Ummm not quite, it turns out.

Clarity is far more interesting a measurement that I gave it credit for. In terms of both examining diamonds and people.

The Internal and the Surface

Diamond quality is dependent on both internal and surface characteristics: That which we can see with the naked eye and that which we cannot.

Not unlike our perceptions of people on the Internet.

How we share our own stories on our blogs, our Facebook pages, our tweets, our Instagram photos, our Pinterest boards, our Linked-In profiles, our Google + pages does matter if we choose to partake in them. These profiles let the audience (comprised of peers, competitors, fans, family, and everyone in between) get to know us on the surface level. We, in turn, get to know their stories.

But only up to a point.

Because even with all the incessant chatter in the web-o-sphere there are far more stories left untold, that lay beneath the surface. These are the stories that are reserved for face-to-face time in coffee shops and couches and hammocks and porch swings and long car rides. These are stories that matter on a personal level.

And then, of course, are the stories that are so deeply embedded within us they are rarely, if ever, shared at all. These are the stories that shape us.

So yes, while what other people hear us say and watch us do matters, in order to be ranked of high quality in the clarity category, our insides have to match our outsides. Not necessarily in personality vs. appearance way. But in an intentions vs. actions way.

What other people can’t see affects our quality of clarity as much as what they can see. And of course, whether we like it or not, one always affects the other.

Small Blemishes Can Be Good

Ok, so clarity matters both in our internal and our surface stories (and diamonds).

But is perfection the goal?

De-Beers have estimated that only one in seven million diamonds recovered will produce a one carat D Flawless polished stone.

Yikes.

But here’s the upside: In the other six million nine hundred ninety-nine thousand diamonds, small blemishes (both internal and surface) are actually considered to be good! These imperfections are what allow us to tell one diamond from another, not unlike fingerprints.

You can see where I’m going with this, yes?

Our intentions and actions matter, but it is expected that we will make mistakes. Flaws are inherent in human nature.  Our imperfections are our calling cards.

We don’t have to have our act totally together in order to experience clarity.

Being true to our own unique stories (both internal and external) will help us all shine a bit brighter.

Here’s to a brilliant May, everyone!

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Beauty in the eye of the beholder at Angkor Watt

We all hate moral ambiguity in some sense, and yet it is also absolutely necessary. In writing a story, it is the place where I begin.” ~ Amy Tan, author The Joy Luck Club

For most of my life I fought this desire to live in the grey. Now, I not only accept the lack of clarity, I feel the pull of it in every aspect my being. If it were possible to be addicted to ambiguity from a moral, philosophical, and spiritual standpoint, I would claim myself an addict. I mean, I studied drama, philosophy, and world religions in school for heaven’s sake!  I love art and museums and music. I love traveling to places that make me ask why but never provide a definitive answer.

And now, as I dip my feet into this strange and nebulous world of writing and creating stories, I’m beginning to understand the benefits of what I previously believed to be a serious personality flaw.

As entrepreneur and author Roger von Oech says:

Take advantage of the ambiguity in the world. Look at something and think what else it might be.

This is not to say I don’t believe in a few black and white truths. The Golden Rule is generally a good place to start. But when it comes to cultivating creativity, to telling and more importantly, to living interesting and inspiring lives, it helps to take a look at our assumptions and question our notion of what is and isn’t possible.

In Victor Hugo’s Les Misrables, a thief becomes a mayor, a prostitute a martyr. The antagonist (of sorts) is a letter-of-the-law police chief who is so caught up in his own sense of right and wrong, he takes his own life rather than live under the knowledge that he owed his safety to the criminal he spent so many years hunting. This dogmatic world view is in line with Sigmund Freud’s belief:

Neurosis is the inability to tolerate ambiguity.

If we all abided  by “it’s my way or the highway”, we’d be in serious trouble. History has, in fact, proven this to be the case.

The most fascinating characters (real and fiction) are those that undergo some sort of catharsis. As human beings we are attracted to stories that shine the spotlight on our own beliefs and cause us to question what we would do in another’s shoes. In fact, people who defy our expectations can often cause us to champion them in unexpected ways.

All people are paradoxical. No one is easily reducible, so I like characters who have contradictory impulses or shades of ambiguity. It’s fun, and it’s fun because it’s hard.  ~ Edward Norton

It is this paradox that I find fascinating. As I wrote about at the beginning of my recent travels, the more I see the less I know. The more birthday candles on the cake, the less I can speak of with certainty. And the more I experience, the more I’m filled with gratitude for the not knowing. For the search. For the struggle. And for the adventure that beckons us every day on this earth.

I’m no longer interested in Happily Ever After because I’m not ready for the finale.

Not yet.

So ambiguity it is. “Delicious Ambiguity.”

I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next.
Delicious Ambiguity. ~ Gilda Radner

Build

This past week, much of Southeast Asia rang in their New Year with a giant water fight. The tradition stems from people sprinkling water on each other as a sign of respect, but has since turned into a Water-palooza as a way to cool off in the hottest month of the year.

Sadly, I left Thailand a few days before the festivities began. But that’s not stopping me from treating my homecoming back to Brooklyn as a new year of it’s own.

One experience is over, but new memories are waiting to be created.

And so, it feels appropriate that my word for this month of April is build.

Every strong structure stems from a solid foundation. I returned from a life-changing trip with no set blue print, but with materials (in the form of self-awareness) and a vision of the path I want to forge ahead.

And while I’ve spent much of the past week recovering from a serious case of jet lag, I’ve also begun sorting through the substance, and drawing rough drafts of the foundation I hope to begin building very soon.

Perhaps you, dear reader, are undergoing a transition of your own. Movement and change and new beginnings can be scary.  I believe fear is the universe’s way of saying you’re onto something! Buckle up, but by all means, please keep going!

Maybe you and I won’t be celebrating our latest chapter by dumping Chiang Mai moat water on our neighbors, but that shouldn’t stop us from starting anew, just as we are.

Take your time and take care, for the foundation is the most important part of the structure:

Living a life is like constructing a building: If you start wrong, you’ll end wrong. ~Maya Angelou

Happy New Year.

Psst: I’ve started sifting through my thousands of photos from my trip and am slowly posting them on my Flickr account. I certainly don’t claim to be a photographer by trade, and these were taken with my iPhone and a point-and-shoot, but sometimes visual images are still fun to see. Enjoy!

Travel has a funny effect on time. Weeks can feel like years, while months can feel like days.

It’s been 3 weeks since my time in Laos, but I feel as if a lifetime has past.

Since Luang Prabang, I’ve spent my time marveling at the magic of Angkor Watt, relishing in the expat life in Phnom Penh, drinking in the light of Bagan, greeting the sun on Inle Lake, and evacuating myself from the hell of Mandalay.

Each place deserves it’s own post, but for now, I plan to return from my digital sabbatical slowly and intentionally, like waking up on my own accord rather than to the sound of a jarring alarm clock.

My first thought as my eyes flutter open is:

Time is finite in the universe, but infinite possibilities exist in our experiences of it.

Shaking up our normal routine can shape and mold every second of every minute.

Are you someone who feels like time is passing you by?

Change something.

Are you someone who counts down the minutes until it’s the weekend?

Change something.

We don’t have to go to far off places to alter our relationship to the rising and setting of the sun.

Sometimes the only thing we have to change is our mindset.

Whatever you need to do, I encourage you to do it.

Time and tide may wait for no one~

But we have a say in how we navigate through them.

Morning Monk Walk (Before I hid my head and camera) 

5:30AM. A rooster crows a few feet from my window, heralding a new day in Laos. I dress quickly, grab my camera, and head out from my guesthouse.

Having arrived to Luang Prabang bathed in yesterday afternoon’s glowing sunshine, I’m shocked how cool it is outside now in the pre-dawn darkness. Walking along the main street through town I pass by rows of French cafes, tourist offices, and jewelry shops that will soon fill with grey haired Europeans and young backpackers freshly off their tubing trip in Vang Vieng.

But for now, I only see a handful of other tourists and several women selling sticky rice. I sit on a curb in anticipation for what has been touted by countless guidebooks as the thing to see in Luang Prabang: Tak Bat (Alms Offering), otherwise known as the Morning Monk Walk.

I daydream of tangerine robes appearing from the mist, descending towards their temples, stopping only to fill their baskets with the offerings of the townspeople. The serenity of the whole practice fills me with gratitude and I pat myself on the back for sacrificing sleep to witness such a beautiful tradition.

20 minutes later my austere tranquility comes to a screeching halt.

Tuk tuks and songteaws and minivans appear from out of nowhere. Tourists clamoring to get the best viewing seats deafen the silence of the morning. I watch with horror as a group of Japanese men stop two of the women selling rice and form a rotation line, each man taking a photo with the women. Then they all leave to find the next photo opportunity, neither realizing nor caring that the women had offered their smiles with the expectation of a handout in return. No translation is needed to understand the look of dejection spreading across the women’s faces.

Sensing the enthusiastic crowd will soon transform into a paparazzi feeding frenzy, I inch closer to the sidewalk, turn on my camera, and hope for the best. Moments later the monks make their way through the masses, eyes cast downwards, no words spoken. One by one they accept the rice and candies gleefully offered by the tourists. Though they make no verbal objection to the camera’s flashing and the throngs of people pushing over each other for a closer inspection, I recognize the look of gritted determination to just get through it in the eyes of the monks, many of whom are children.

Disgusted with the behavior of my fellow camera-wielding humans, I head off the main road and round the corner where the next round of monks are sure to pass in peace. Only a handful of other people have the same idea, and for a moment I can’t help but smile as the monks round the corner, and dump extraneous food from their baskets into the bowls of children who’ve waited patiently for this part of the morning ritual.

But paparazzi are relentless, and quickly come running running! around the corner, never taking their eye away from the viewfinder.

Exasperated and with heavy heart, I put my camera away and make my way to breakfast just as the glow of morning spreads across the streets. As I nibble on my chocolate croissant, I worry that by simply being here, in Luang Prabang, I am actively taking part in destroying something sacred.

The reality of the experience was the antithesis of the experience I had imagined.

I’m still percolating on the role of the tourist while taking an evening stroll along the Mekong River. Per usual I find myself lost and I pause to inspect my map. I hear the familiar greeting “sabadei” called in my direction. Turning around I see the source: three monks sitting on a wall of a temple overlooking the road. They had been taking in the river view as well and stopped their conversation to ask f I had lost my way.

More than you know.

Ascending the stairs, one monk in particular, Sang, seems eager to talk. He asks me where I’m from, about my travels, becoming particularly interested in why I would want to travel alone. He invites me to walk around the temple at my leisure. Although this doesn’t take long (it’s a small complex and much of it is under construction), I find myself drawn to the charm of the details. Just as I’m about to take a photo of one building that inexplicably peaks my curiosity, Sang, appears out from the doorway (How did that happen? I thought he was behind me?) and laughs at my startled expression. Amused by my interest, he explains that the simple building I’m admiring is the monks’ living quarters. Seeing my camera he asks if I’d like a picture. I hesitate, remembering the obtuseness of the morning, but he smiles warmly and strikes a pose.

Well, if you insist.

But this time I don’t feel like an intruder.

 Sang pauses for a picture

Dusk descends so I say my goodbyes and continue my walk near the river.

Reflections of the transforming sky dance on the water as the sun makes its journey home. I’m about to head towards the center of town for the night market when I hear hypnotic chanting reverberating from a side road. I follow the sound and stumble upon another temple where the monks are saying their evening prayers. I pause outside the door, not wanting to disturb or disrupt.

And for a moment I don’t feel like a tourist. I’m an observer. A witness. I’m more alive, more human, because I’m not chasing after an image in my mind. I’m paying attention as life works it’s magic.

 Chanting Monks

I walk to the main road, the sounds of venders selling their wares to throng of farang (foreigners) strolling the stalls, darkness once again pervading the streets.

True, the reality of the day’s events didn’t meet my expectations.

Reality, as experienced by chance, exceeded them.

My last day of being 31. On the river in Nong Khiew.

March 6th, 2012 will ring in another year of my existence on the planet. This year I’m celebrating in a slightly different fashion than in birthdays of yore. Instead of dinner and drinks with friends and loved ones, I’ll be alone, in a country I had never heard of until a few months ago.

Lest you think this is a pity party, I assure you I’m doing alright and I’m filled with deep gratitude for the opportunity to be here. This serves as a testament to all the incredible people I’ve learned from this past year: New friends, old friends, friends of friends, and people-I’d-want-at-my-dream-dinner-party friends.

So before I share my 32 wishes for my 32nd year (oops- a lady’s never supposed to tell!), I wanted to take a moment to reflect on the invaluable lessons I’ve learned from 31 incredible people during my 31st year on the planet.

These are not listed in any order, chronologically or otherwise. They are presented here in hopes that perhaps someone else may find these lessons as insightful as I have. (The ideas in quotation marks were either said or written verbatim by the person. The ideas not in quotation marks are the take away lessons I learned from interactions with the person.)

1. Embrace bad news with humor. Michelle Ward

 I met Michelle in the fall of 2010, and since then she has been a non-stop inspiration train of enthusiasm. So it should be no surprise that Michelle embraced her recent diagnosis of breast cancer  (or Boob Cancer as she prefers to call it) with humor, aplomb, and a ukulele. Whenever I’m having a “bad” day I think WWMD.

2. Stay connected. To yourself and to the world around you. Pam Slim

Pam Slim is the author of the Escape from Cubicle Nation and I first heard about her at the World Domination Summit last July, where she was the opening speaker. In September I got up the courage to ask if I could interview her for a human interest travel series I was writing, and to my shock and delight Pam not only agreed to meet with me, she invited me to her home! Pam is a living testament to being connected to our core values, family, and ancestry.

3. Never save it for later. Chris Martin, Coldplay

Christmas came early for me this year when I was lucky enough to see Coldplay perform live in Rotterdam. While I was blown away with the music and performances, it was lead singer Chris Martin’s opening speech that made want to stand cheering on my feet. Promising the audience he and his band-mates would “give it their all,” I was reminded that the world deserves our best.

4. Go above and beyond to make others feel welcome. Sarah Pebworth

Sarah owns and operates the beautiful Blue Hill Inn, where I’ve spent several vacations, including this past Thanksgiving. Always ready with a warm smile, a big hug, and delicious baked goods, Sarah is the epitome of the Hostess With The Mostest. Her zest for life and love for her charming town (you’ll often find her exclaiming “I can’t believe I get to live here!”) is catching.

5. Express gratitude, give back, and keep an open mind. Shannon O’Donnell

 Having been a fan of Shannon’s travel blog, A Little Adrift, I was beyond excited to meet her and her adorably precocious niece, Ana, during my stay in Chiang Mai. Shannon’s dedication to making the world a better place  makes me want to be a better person for having met her.

6. Choices are different than decisions. Make Both. Often. Bryce Longton

It’s no secret for readers of my blog that I have turned making decisions and choices into a bit of a hobby this past year. Now you know who to blame for my diatribes! Bryce and I were roommates at the aforementioned World Domination Summit, having been cyberly introduced by the aforementioned Michelle Ward (Six Degrees of Separation, anyone?). From the moment we met, Bryce and her glitter eye-shadow challenged me to stop being such a wimp and start doing what needed to get done. 

7. “Life is a daring adventure or nothing at all.” Helen Keller

Travel is changing my perspective on what I what most from this adventurous life. I wrote about this a few weeks ago, and it’s one of the most honest posts I’ve written. The greatest rewards come when we step out of our comfort zones.

8. There is no substitute for reality. Andreas Fehrle

 Part of the learning curve with this whole blogging and social media world has been deciding how much time to be online versus in the real world. Traveling in places that don’t have wi-fi has brought home the point that: 1. I will survive without knowing what’s going on with the rest of the world every minute of every day and 2. I’m more present in the here-and-now when not constantly comparing myself to others. While I am incredibly thankful for the people I’ve met thanks to blogging and social media, there really is nothing as meaningful as in-person connections. Andreas reminds me there’s more to life than tweets, likes,  and +1.

9. “Make yourself proud.” Sophie Reis

I’d like to come back in my next life as Sophie. Sexy, smart, fun, happy, and adventurous, Sophie was the icing on the cake during my stay in Montreal last fall. We were introduced by a friend of a friend, and became fast friends over the course of two glasses of wine and a cheese plate. Her immediate support and can-do spirit for my recently reignited passion for travel helped provide the courage I needed to keep going and not be afraid to listen to my heart.

10. “You can be brave now. No more hedging your bets.” Mondo Beyondo

 This was handwritten and taped to a piece of paper under my chair for a presentation by Andrea Scher and Jen Lemen, founders of Mondo Beyondo, an “online class about dreaming big.” Both the paper and it’s sentiments have stuck with me ever since. A well-lived life takes courage. No time like the present.

11. Love your imperfections. They are what make you YOU. Kylie Springman

 To know Kylie is to instantly feel at peace. A photographer, life coach, and woman wise beyond her years, Kylie reminds me to calm the f*&$@ down. Her website tag line reads: “The Intricate Art of Liking Yourself”, something I (we all) could use some help with from time to time. Kylie never fails to steer me and those around her in the right direction.

12. “Feel the now.” Marco Rojas, yoga instructor.

As part of a 30-day yoga challenge with lululemon, I heard tales of Marcus’s class at Pure Yoga. Pushing me further than I thought possible, Marcus is hands down the most insightful yoga instructor I’ve ever encountered. He taught me to be present and not fear the pain that inevitably comes from pushing ourselves.

13. Embrace your vulnerability.  Brene Brown

In her now famous TED Talk, Brene states: “Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy.”  Who doesn’t feel vulnerable on a regular basis? But if we give into the fear of failing or embarrassment, we give up on the opportunities that also make us feel most alive. Let yourself be seen, proverbial warts and all.

14. Give more. Stephanie Zito

Not only did Stephanie coach me through my first ever half-marathon last month in Bangkok, she truly lives by her motto “See the world. Change the world. Have fun doing it.” Having recently completed her #Give10 Project (where she donated $10 every day for a year to various charities), traveled to over 100 countries, and made the world more colorful wherever she goes, Stephanie is a solid reminder that doing good deeds and enjoying life don’t have to be mutually exclusive.

15. “Stay hungry. Stay foolish.” Steve Jobs

The passing of Steve Jobs this year led to a rising interest in his legacy. His commencement speech stirred the souls of millions, and his belief that we should want more for ourselves and our dreams, is a stunning reminder that we can and should follow our bliss where ever that may lead.

16. Stand up for yourself. Jodi Ettenberg

Most people know Jodi as a former lawyer from Montreal, with a passion for food, travel, and culture. I think of her this way too, but also as a woman who says what she means and means what she says. I greatly appreciate her sage advice and powerhouse spirit. When I’m not busy being intimidated by this pint-sized dynamo, I’m grateful she sees something in me and reminds me to speak up and be heard.

17. Words matter. Choose them wisely. Brigitte Lyons

Few people I know analyze and percolate over the meaning of words like Brigitte. Since she first came to my rescue when I found myself homeless for a night in Portland last summer (long story), Brigitte has come to may aid countless times since then when I’ve needed to brainstorm or vent or expand on idea. Not one to mince words, I take to heart the compliments and observations she has expressed to me since our first meeting of the minds.

18. That’s what friends are for. Erin Glass, Best friend extraordinaire.

Everyone should be so lucky as to have a best friend Erin. No matter how busy she is, she always finds a way to lend a hand, or an ear, or a bottle (or more) of prosecco. Never judging, but always offering support and insightful questions, my 31st year would have certainly been a rough road without her. 

19. You don’t have to understand or even agree with someone to love them. My parents.

Although they’ve never said as much, it’s safe to say my parents probably think I’m a little nuts. But each time I picked up the phone to tell them my next seemingly bizarre idea, my mom and dad have responded with “Your life certainly isn’t boring. Keep us posted. Love you.” What more could a daughter ask for?

20. Write better. Nina Yau, Roxanne Krystalli

The other day I went through my blog and deleted over half of my posts. But before making them magically disappear, I read each and every one of them, and wow! was it enlightening.  I’m still very much trying to find my voice and writing style,  but I have to admit, seeing how far I’ve come in the past year was incredibly encouraging. The biggest improvements have come very recently after I finally (finally!) decided to stop writing the way many other “popular” bloggers write (Top Ten Lists, How to Be Being Awesome, etc) and started writing in a way that actually expresses what I want to say. Both Nina and Roxanne offer blogs that rise above and say things worth saying.  

21. It’s never too late to create the life you want.  J.D. Roth

I’ve never met J.D. But I’ve paid enough attention to see how much J.D. has chosen to transform his life in a way that inspires bravery, honesty, and an unwavering desire to listen to one’s heart.

22. Believe in yourself.  Harry Potter

Although I didn’t read all the books, I did watch all the movies in a Harry Potter movie marathon, thanks to the NYC Hurricane of 2011 That Wasn’t. This quote stood out to me in particular: “Working hard is important. But there is something that matters even more, believing in yourself. Think of it this way; every great wizard in history has started out as nothing more than what we are now, students. If they can do it why not us?”

23. “Journeys are the midwives of thought.” Alain de Botton

I read alarmingly few books for pleasure last year, but fortunately, Botton’s “The Art of Travel” was one of them. I must have highlighted and notated every other sentence. Few things in life are more rewarding than reading the words of a stranger who seems to not only share your thoughts, but reflect them back in a way that sheds new light on them. 31 was the year I traveled after a decade hiatus, spurring more opportunities to ponder, more space to reflect, and more dreams to emerge.

24. “What you want is not always what you want to want.” Michael Parrish DuDell

Hands down one of the hardest workers I know, Michael also isn’t afraid to cut to the chase in our all too infrequent discussions over drinks or vegan food. One of my favorite MPDisms was when he looked at me after taking a sip of his Manhattan and stated: “Monica, what you want to want isn’t always what you actually want.” See what I mean? He’s a smarty pants.

25. Worry doesn’t lead to happiness. Noi, Bamboo Nest

Noi is half of the dynamic duo that owns and runs Bamboo Nest in Northern Thailand. Even though my stay was short, our morning chats are among my most cherished memories of my entire stay in Thailand. His simple yet wise words remind me that perhaps, life isn’t as complicated as we (I) make it seem.

26. “If you’re brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello.” Paulo Coello

Enough said.

27. True compassion is limitless. Lek, founder of the Elephant Nature Park, Thailand

Hands down, one of my favorite experiences of my 31st year was a weekend spent at the Elephant Nature Park, founded and fervently fought for by Sangduen “Lek” Chailert. Lek started with one elephant, and is now projected to start reserves in Myanmar and Cambodia as well. Elephant tourism is big business in Southeast Asia. A whole lot of courage and integrity is required for one person to stand up and say “Enough!” The fact that Lek dedicates her life to helping those who can never verbalize a “thank you”, says much about her compassion for all.

28. Be yourself. Lisa Berg

Although I had met Lisa previously, I didn’t really get to know her until my visit to Phoenix last fall. In fact, she was my first Face to Place interview ever. And what stuck out to me then, and still rings true now, was how easy going, humble, and comfortable she is in her own skin. She has her pilot’s license, went back to school for web design, and has an incredible eye for all things vintage. But she doesn’t learn how to do things to check them off a list, or to impress others. Lisa learns things because she want to. What better reason is there?

29. Create something meaningful. Chris Guillebeau

Most people who know (of) Chris, think of his oft quoted  motto: “You don’t have to live life the way others expect you to.” And while I completely agree with this, when I think of what Chris has taught me this year, I think about his ability to see “long-term,”  something I’ve never been good at. Creating something meaningful requires both foresight and immediate action. Chris has taught me to trust that both are possible.

30. “It’s on the strength of observation and reflection that one finds a way. So we must dig and delve unceasingly.” Claude Monet

For the better part of last year I thought I wanted to go back to school and get my PhD in Comparative Literature or Art History. To test the waters I took a French  Art and Literature class. Though I ultimately decided this wasn’t the best path for me, I loved the subject and being in a classroom environment. Had I not taken the course, I would probably still be wondering if that door should remain open. But in the spirit of Monet, we learn when we take actions and reflect on the course they take us.

31. Love, at it’s truest form, is unconditional. Kenya, the Wonder Pup

Though she’s a dog and can’t speak, Kenya’s actions express her unwavering love and devotion. A powerful lesson, indeed.

To the 31 and countless others~

Thank you.

I wouldn’t be here without you.