Like Father Like Daughter

There was a time once, when my mom first took me to swim lessons, that I absolutely WOULD NOT put my face in the water. There was a time when I refused to ride my baby four wheeler my dad got me around my grandparent’s lawn.  Looking back, I can’t believe I was ever like. This past summer my dad reminded me of my once deathly fear of doing anything even remotely dangerous or daredevily after watching me cruise along the wake of a boat on a wakeboard.  Me. The girl afraid of getting her face wet. Riding a wakeboard.  Man, oh man, have times changed. 

Any hopes my mother ever had of me being a girly girl were dashed early on by my father. There’s a video buried somewhere in a box of my dad pushing me around the yard on a miniature dirt bike. That was the beginning of my development into a girl after my dad’s own heart. 

I spent my summers growing up riding fourwheelers….gradually moving up from riding the tiniest size the industry makes to a full size one. Never too early to start riding! In the winter when my dad would go out snowmobiling, I’d be right there too clinging to his back like a baby koala.  When I hit high school, I finally rode my very own snowmobile! That day might have ended with my best friend Jamie and I hitting a tree stump and being hurtled into the air, but I just remember it as a day where I got my first real taste for speed and adrenaline. 

In the summers growing up, one of my favorite things to do was go out to the motocross track and watch my dad fly over jumps and tear around corners kicking up dust behind him. I loved it! So for years, I bugged my dad about teaching me how to ride a dirt bike, but he was always hesitant to let me try. Finally, two years ago my dad gave in and taught me how to ride. I think he was shocked at how fast I picked it up. From the moment I first straddled that bike, I had a feeling I was going to love it. But it wasn’t until a year ago, when I purchased my own dirt bike, a KLX 140, that I discovered why I’d wanted to ride for so many years. My dad went right out and decked me out with a full set of riding gear and I spent last summer and fall riding around the mountains of Clancy….slowly learning to shift better and daring to take corners a little faster each time I came around them. The best day though, was the very first time I went out and rode with my dad….just him and me. My dad grew up riding bikes and spent years racing motocross, but this past summer was the first time he went for a ride with his daughter. I felt so proud that day, and I think he was too. We laughed at the end of that day too after passing some people playing folf. I told my dad that that sport was just way too slow moving and boring for me. He laughed and said “Well, you always were more of a motorhead.” 

While my dad does love his motorsports, one of his other passions is hockey. The man simply can’t watch or play enough of it during the wintertime. I had a brief interest in hockey early on when I saw one of the Mighty Ducks movies the first time my parents took me to the Edmonton Mall in Canada. But like many childhood fetishes, it passed away without getting off the ground. Then one night last winter, after watching me skate on an outdoor rink, my dad told me I needed to get hockey skates. I could see that gleam in his eye that let me know an idea was brewing. 

As soon as they started flooding the outdoor rinks in town this year, my dad took me down to Big Sky Cyclery and sized me up for some hockey skates. After watching me skate on those for one night at the indoor rink, he told me about a beginner’s hockey league that was going to be starting soon. He told me I should join it. Me actually play hockey? All I thought was, “bring it on!” So earlier this week, after suiting me up with a helmet and some gloves, my dad took me down to Memorial Park to do a training session. I thought we were just going to shoot the puck around, but he had me skating lines till I couldn’t breathe and shooting lines of pucks at the net like I was training for the Olympics. I was exhausted by the time we were done, but I really felt like I might have a shot at trying to play. 

Driving home that night, I couldn’t help smiling in thinking about how in 26 years I had somehow managed to delve into all of the same activities as my dad. And all of these activities, might I add, are not the typical things you would expect to see a girl doing. That thought made me smile even bigger. I’m proud to be a woman, but even prouder to be one who isn’t afraid to try the same extreme sports my dad and all the guys I know do. And the best part is that I’m still usually able to keep up with all of them at any of those sports.

I know my mom watches me ride and sees pictures of me doing all my daredevil activities sometimes and just shakes her head. But I remind her that I still did 13 years of ballet…..and that’s pretty much as girly as it gets. I’m grateful for all my years of dancing too because that way when I come tearing over a hill on my dirt bike or am side hilling on my sled,  I know that I’m always doing it with a little bit of grace and a little bit of grit.

Be the change you wish to see in the world

A recent conversation with my best friend reignited a flame inside me that has been low but smoldering for roughly a year. It was a discussion about loyalty--of commitment and unconditional love for the people closest to us in life. These qualities, which to the two of us come so automatically, are unfortunately much harder to receive from the people we have always given them to.

I have never had very many friends throughout my life. Part of that is because I have forever struggled with finding individuals with whom I find a real connection with. But the larger reason is because I cannot find people who are willing to give as much of themselves to me as I give to them. There isn’t a thing in the world I wouldn’t do for my friends or family. There is no distance too far to travel to hold one of their hands. There isn’t a dollar amount too large for a bouquet of flowers to send them when they’re having a bad day. There isn’t a diaper cake too large to bring to a friend’s baby shower to celebrate the newest addition to their family. No amount of reputation or self respect would prevent me from sacrificing all of it in an instant to step up and defend and support someone, even when everyone else tells me I’m in the wrong. All that I am, all that I have, I would give without hesitation or doubt to anyone in my life. And it is because my best friend Jamie is the same way that makes her the only person I will ever call my best friend.

We both acknowledged how much we always try to do for people in our lives, but how it is usually these people who are so unwilling to return the favor when we need it. Neither of us does the things we do hoping to get a gold star or brownie point. And we don’t do it so that we can hold it against those people down the road and guilt them into helping us. We do it because it is simply who we are. But the question remains......why is it so hard for people to stand up and support us...defend us.....love us unconditionally....and give us all they have?

I think part of it is fear. Fear that giving so much of themselves up for another so automatically will only hurt them in the end. Maybe prt of it is survival instinct....People are naturally more inclined to protect themselves first before attending to the life of another. But I think the biggest reason is fear of appearances. How will it look to the rest of the world if I defend this person, if I refuse to let them fall out of my life, if I love them even though everyone else tells me I shouldn’t, if I have someone’s back even though they’ve made a million mistakes? For me and Jamie, these questions simply don’t enter our minds....not for an instant. When we make a commitment to someone, it is for a lifetime.

I’ve been asked several times this year why I am so willing to give so much of myself at times to people who have made no attempt to bring any good to my life and who are never there for me even though I’ve never turned my back on them. My response to those people was that Jesus cleansed lepers, associated with prostitutes and other outcasts of society. He chose men as his disciples that he knew would deny him and betray him. And he preached things that he knew were against the law. To my response these people said, “yes, and they crucified him for it.” To that I simply smiled and replied that “Yes, but he knew all along that that would be his fate.”
 

Now I’m in no way trying to compare myself to Jesus because I couldn’t be farther from Him. But my point is that there are millions of people who worship someone each day who saw everyone as beautiful and equally worth loving and he gave the ultimate sacrifice to prove that love. So why do people find it so hard to demonstrate or at least accept similar acts in the everyday life around them?

The sad fact is you cannot change people. I may be the best person imaginable to some people in my life but I know that, for some, it will still never change how they are to me. Some people are simply too bound up in worrying about what others will think of them. They let outsiders give them ultimatums and dictate how they act. But their cowardly tendencies will not change the way I live my life. In fact, they are the ones who inspire me on a daily basis to try that much harder at showing them how far I am willing to go for them. As Gandhi put it, “You must be the change you wish to see in the world.” And as I read once, “the hardest decision you will ever make in your life to either give up or try harder.” I will always be the one to try harder, to give my best even if I don’t get it back, to love people unconditionally even though most of them will turn their backs on me when I need them.

To love unconditionally takes incredible courage and dedication, but if you are lucky enough to find someone in your life who is willing to do just that....DON’T EVER LET THEM GO! So to my best friend, the woman who has had my back since our days playing rock forts at recess.....I love you now and always and don’t ever stop being the amazing person you are. 

Be one who walks with confidence....

There are so many opportunities to be had in this life....so many dreams worth chasing after. And with the dawn of each new day, we are blessed with yet one more chance at everything we ever wanted and then some. But what stops so many of us from achieving greatness or happiness or love or success or memorability? I believe it is simply a lack of confidence in ourselves--a persistent doubt in the person God destined us to be and instilled with all the qualities and fight necessary to reach our highest potential.

When I used to meet people for the first time and they asked me what I did for work, I would never say that I was a writer. I was afraid they would get that sympathetic look in their eye that tells you that the dream you're chasing is a lost cause and better left abandoned. I didn't believe myself in the beginning that I was a writer so I never said it out loud. Then last May at a graduation party, I sat down next to my dad who was talking to another guest at the party. After noticing me, my dad quickly introduced me to the man next to him. The very next thing he said was, "My daughter's a writer." It was the first time I had ever really heard someone say it out loud. I was a writer. It was at the moment that I realized that the first step to me becoming a writer was simply acknowledging that I was one.....and saying it loud and proud to anyone who asked. Confidence, despite all the naysayers and sad puppy dog eyes confronting you, is key.

Confidence in not only who you want to become, but the fact that you will be one of the best at it, is the next step. I saw a black and white picture of Muhammad Ali once frozen in a fighting stance. A quote emblazoned across the top of the photo said "I am the greatest. I said that even before I knew I was." One of the greatest professional boxers of all time didn't start out as one of the greatest professional boxers. But what led him to achieving greatness? Confidence.

This past October, I had the esteemed pleasure of taking a pilgrimage down south to Memphis, Tennessee with my father to visit Graceland---the home of a dreamer. For those who know my dad, you know he is a huge fan of Elvis. I grew up hearing about Elvis like he was a distant relative. He was present in biographies on the bookshelves, photos along the walls, and old rock 'n' roll tunes rolling off a record player in the basement. When my dad first mentioned us taking a trip to Memphis together, I thought it would just be so he could bombard me with more Elvis memorabilia and history. I mean, I always thought Elvis was cool, but what was so important about seeing his house? What I discovered in Memphis was the ultimate power of a dream envisioned, believed in, and pursued after with every breath and ounce of strength in a man's body.

When I was in Memphis I saw photos of the little shack of a house that Elvis first grew up in in Tupelo, Mississippi. I drove by the public housing building where his family had to live when they first moved to Memphis. I stood in Sun Records, on the same tiled floor Elvis did, when he recorded his very first song. I saw the store window of the original Lansky's clothing shop, which later made custom clothing for Elvis. When Elvis first went there he didn't have a single dollar to pay for a shirt, but he told the owner that once he was rich he would come back and buy him out. I walked up the driveway to Elvis' beloved Graceland that he purchased at the astounding age of 22 years of age. And I hovered over the grave of the the King of Rock and Roll, a grave walked past by millions of people since his death.

In just a few short days, I saw what a man can accomplish in 42 years.....and it all started with a dream.....and confidence.

It doesn't matter who or what you want to be in this life. It doesn't matter how big or small, how certain or completely impossible your dreams might seem in the beginning. The only thing that will ever prevent you from achieving any of it is a lack of confidence. Know who you are. Tell yourself that and everyone you meet everyday.....and don't your dare bat an eyelash or stutter when you do. This is your life....own it....with confidence.

Answers

I've been thinking a lot lately about the search for answers in life, especially since everyone around me seems to be in such a hurry to find them. The answer to that timeless question of, 'what am I supposed to do with my life?' seems to be a big one for some of the people in my life right now. They want to find what their passion in life is so that they can start working a job doing just that, and hopefully, never "work" a day in their life. But for the people who haven't found their passion yet, they feel frustrated in their failure at not having done so. I used to be one of these people.

Finding your passion requires courage, stubbornness, resilience, and dedication. It doesn't happen overnight and it is far from easy. And while the feeling of finally finding it is truly wonderful, I believe that the things you discover about yourself along the way and knowing that you stuck out and survived the journey at all instills a much greater feeling in you. Those are the parts that really matter. It sounds cliche to say this, but it really is about the journey not the destination.

And finding your passion doesn't mean the work is over. You still have to figure out what to do with it. I was told once that I needed to do something "good" with my writing. I believe that no matter what you discover you want to do with your life, you should try and do something good with it. I remind myself of that every day. People are so motivated by money and material possessions today and achieving a high ranked status in society. But when it comes time for you to leave this world, none of those things will matter or be remembered. How you changed people and the world around you for the better by what you did with your life is what will create your legacy.

When you look at it that way, you understand that figuring out what you're supposed to do with your life is a lifelong journey. You have to work at your passion every single day  and try to do the very best you can by it. You passion is your gift from God, so honor it.

I did find my passion and I am slowly figuring out what I want to do with it, but there are still unanswered questions in my heart about what I'm supposed to do with my life. And even though I've chosen to be a writer doesn't mean that's the only thing I want to be in my life. I believe that reinvention is so important to living life to the fullest. Hopefully we all find our one true passion in life, but that doesn't mean we have to ignore all of our other callings.

I was talking to a close friend the other day who told me about how excited her husband was to be approaching retirement. She just laughed and said that retirement is a concept that has never entered her mind. She wants to always be planning her next big adventure and trying her hand at another type of career or hobby. She  found her passion in life and has been doing it for over 20 years but that's not the only thing she wants to do and be. And not knowing what she'll spend the next 20 years doing is clearly exciting to her.

Don't worry if you haven't found your passion and decided what you  want to be when you grow up. The fact that you haven't should be exciting. And even when you do find some answers, continue to love the new questions that arise and the constant uncertainty of everything around you. The last line of a poem I wrote once said, "my only comfort is not knowing what will come," and I feel peace inside every time I realize how true that is.

Everything worth doing starts with being scared...

My old dance teacher---one of thee most inspirational people in my life---once quoted Art Garfunkel during a performance: “Everything worth doing starts with being scared.”  The quote stuck with me and I reflect on it whenever I am confronted by a challenge in life. I frequently think about it as I navigate along on my journey towards becoming a writer.

It took me nearly 22 years to realize that God put me on this earth to be a writer. Knowing that writing is not just my chosen profession but my PURPOSE, scares me to death every day. Writers are a ballsy, untamed, misunderstood, stubborn, resilient, and passionate bunch of individuals. You don’t choose to become a writer for money or fame or the hope that your books will someday be turned into a theme park. You don’t do it because it’s easy. You don’t do it because you are talented. You do it because you can’t live without writing. And no matter how hard the path of a writer is---and believe me it’s hard---and regardless of all the people and rationale that tempt you to turn back, you keep going because even though you’re scared, you know that your pursuit is worth it.

In high school and college I used to write in a journal. Now, I write for newspapers and anyone willing to publish me. This blog, whatever it turns out to be about, is my attempt at merging the secret meanderings of my heart with the daily observations of the world around me that I am always bursting to put in print. It will be a little bit of grace and a little bit of grit.