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Wicked Ahwesome. Day 1 in Boston

It’s been less than 24 hours in Yankee town, and I think we’re doing alright at acclimating to “wicked ahwesome” city life.

I ate brunch in a pub at the bar next to a smoker puffing on his cigarette and ordered a cup of coffee in hopes that the server would repeat it back to me in a Bostonian accent.

“Would ya like cweam in ya cahffee?”

I would have fit in well here when I was 6 and couldn’t say my “Rs” properly.

Our temporary housing for the week is a small apartment above a tiny foot salon (is that even a thing?). Complete with a door buzzer, two flights of stairs, no central AC, and a Belgium waffle shop next door, it feels like the real deal.

But what do I know? I’m just a poser at this point.

Cambridge is beautiful. Old and historic, it leaves you in awe as you look around  and realize how many influential men and women have studied here…lived here. Presidents, leaders, world changers, Elle Woods. It’s incredible.

I think my IQ rises slightly each time I breathe in the air.

We feel really blessed to be here yet at the same time keep thinking what are we doing?

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Life plan? Ppft what’s that?

On a recent trip, I was making my way through usual travel routines as I headed back home; leave for airport with plenty of time, drop off rental car, get through security lines, promptly board plane.

It’s no secret that I do not enjoy flying, but on this particular day I felt a great amount of angst as I made my way through the airport. It was the “I can feel it in my gut” type of angst, that I just couldn’t shake. Big Fisch (knowing all too well how to read me) would glance over at me and ask if everything was all right.

I’d nod my head thinking yes and no. Yes, nothing logical was wrong. But no, something did not feel right.

An hour later the entire airport was on lock down for a code red alert. Horrific weather ripped through the area as we were boarding the plane, causing everyone to take shelter from a storm that could have been very detrimental.

(I’ve requested that God stop putting me in Twister type scenarios but I don’t think He’s heard me yet.)

We all lived, thankfully and obviously, but the encounter was not fun and that nagging angst in my gut made a lot more sense afterwards.…

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Big Fisch Goes to Harvard

Five years ago, Big Fisch and I were preparing for final exams at our respective colleges. It was senior year, and along with our circle of friends, we were reminiscing on how quickly the past four years had flown by and how our impending graduation felt bittersweet.

It was sad to close the door on such a unique time of our lives. When would we ever again get to live with a bunch of our best friends, plugged into college environments we loved, staying up way too late, making memories we’d laugh about forever? We knew the paths each person would take would send us in different directions, no guarantee it’d ever bring us all back again to the same spot.

Yet it also felt so sweet. The future looked optimistic and it was fun to dream about what new adventures lay ahead. So much of our past felt like training and preparation to go out on our own and become our own person. The time had finally arrived; we were ready to jump.

Graduation, marriage, an out of state move, and two new jobs later, Big Fisch and I locked hands, sent up a plea for God’s guidance, and jumped in with all fins.…

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C-c-c-courage

The Cowardly Lion believes that his fear makes him inadequate. He does not understand that courage means acting in the face of fear.

Despite my attempts to plan and schedule, I’m always running short on time to write, I tell myself.

Now I sit in the midst of insane turbulence, four more hours to go, and desperately seeking a distraction to the bumpiness engulfing me.

What excuse do I have now? Most of the people around me seem convinced we’re all going to die, and I’ve already tried bartering for my life with the Lord several times over.

With this plane literally bouncing its way home, I’m searching deep within me for that thing called strength. I was hoping to find it in a whiskey ginger, but it’s been too rough for even the attendants to stand.

Perhaps I’ll find it in words.

Yesterday, I sat in a conference room across the country, surrounded by 18 incredible women. Smart. Passionate. Inspiring, to say the least. All of them gathered in one place for the very purpose of harnessing their potential.

It was 65 degrees outside and to my left, sun spilled in through the wall of windows showing off the Arizona mountains in the distance, covered with cactus, red stones, and shrubs.…

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Stepping out of the mud

Big Fisch and I took a weekend to plant ourselves in-front of the fireplace and vision plan.

We dreamt and drafted visions for ourselves both individually and as a couple, addressing a ton of questions and making a lot of lists.

Who do we want to be? What do we believe? How do we want to live? What will we accomplish? How then will we do it?

Short term and long term, we talked away with a list of goals.

It sounds a bit cheesy. And it is. We’re nothing if not a little cheesy.

But it’s also energizing and empowering and in my opinion, necessary.

We do it constantly in business to maximize our resources and impact; why do we not do it in our own lives to navigate how we spend our time?

I think my favorite part of our vision planning was crafting our life mission statements.

It forced us to take a step back, think through our values, our life calling, and our goals, and wrap them into one; essentially answering the question, “who am I as a person?”

Since writing it, I’ve gone back to my mission many times, rereading it, making myself say the words out loud.…

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