In no particular order:
1. I gave this talk for Ignite Seattle at Town Hall. I applied to speak because it was scary. And then some friends put a magnifying glass in my hand and told me to look really hard at what I wanted to say, and I ended up telling 800 strangers what I discovered in the process. It was an exercise in vulnerability, and I was nervous as all heck. This was a turning point for me on a number of levels.
2. 3 generations took a helicopter ride past the Napali Coast of Kuaui. With my parents in Seoul, my sister and great aunt in Austin and Philly, and me in Seattle, we met in the middle for the holidays.
3. I didn’t play frisbee. For the first time since freshman year of college, I chose not to commit a season to competitive frisbee. This was a terribly difficult decision, where I had to let go of: my white-knuckled expectations for myself that I could do it all, the idea that I was letting people down, and the idea that I’d be lost without it this identity. Plus FOMO.
4. I threw a giant warehouse party for our green nonprofit’s 10-year anniversary. I borrowed truckloads of couches and stuffs from Goodwill, got a silent disco company to sponsor headsets for the dance party, and the mayor came and judged the thrift shop costume contest. Plus there was an 8 ft photobooth, professional jugglers, and a fire show. I wore a flamingo hat.
5. I worked on an app that’s now in the app store. MakeMe.
6. Knowing when to say no, and how to say it (this is still very much a work in progress). Time is the only resource of which you can’t get any more. I’m learning to be more deliberate about how I spend my time and who I choose to spend it with, which involves looking at why I’m saying yes, and learning how to say no.
7. I tried online dating. But I didn’t just explore it- I took it on like homework. I told myself it was Go Time, and I lined up a number of dates in a two-week period. And at each one… I looked for any reason for there never to be a date #2. It was positively Seinfeldian. At the end of the 2 weeks I was exhausted and relented to the fact that no, in fact I was not as open to dating as I hoped I was. Who’s got two thumbs and distancing behaviors?
8. I helped my friend propose to his girlfriend in the most epic scheme thinkuppable. He crafted a perfect day for his lady, seemingly through unrelated coincidences. She helps a man with his dropped groceries, and he offers her tickets in thanks. She orders a latte at Starbucks and wins a contest that doesn’t actually exist. She orders a Lyft ride, and the driver is dressed as a mystic, and it’s uncanny how much she knows about her. They ride a tugboat, and the engine just happens to cut out exactly as sun sets on the lake. And so forth. It was beautiful. A month after the proposal we all went down to Vegas so they could get married in a Disney-themed Elvis-officiated pink cadillac wedding. The bride was dressed as the Little Mermaid, her dad gave her away as King Triton, and the groom, of course, was Jafar, complete with squiggly goatee.
9. I crossfat. I got really into crossfit, participated in some local competitions, and tangoed with the paleo diet, including organizing an Iron Chef competition. Insider tip: make a potluck a competition, and people up their game; things turn gourmet right quick!
10. I took improv comedy classes. I wanted to learn how to think on my feet and to be more comfortable risking looking foolish; I wanted to punch my self-consciousness in the face and kick it to the curb. I found improv to be extremely uncomfortable and awkward. It was great for me.
11. I audited a butchery class. I now know where bacon sits in the hog.
12. I watched porn with strangers. I went to the local alternative newspaper’s amateur porn film festival, hosted by Dan Savage, and voted on top candidates for categories such as Best Humor and Best Kink.
13. I joined the board of a Women in Tech group, part of the city of Seattle’s startup-friendly initiative, and I joined a professional women’s forum. I’m leaning in.
14. Data flirted with me. I helped a buddy run a kickstarter campaign for the asteroid mining company Planetary Resources, and I met Brent Spiner. I helped this same buddy run a Space Up unconference earlier in the year, so between these two events I have a small, unlikely, space enthusiast following on the Twitters.
15. I pursued professional mentorship. I learned what to look for in a mentor and how to increase your helpability.
16. I hosted themed picnics every Wednesday in July. My favorite: “As this week is the last of the July Wednesday picnics, I'd like to salute a special love of mine. PUNS. I want to see the likes of: Wu Tang Flan, Penne for your thoughts, and I'm kind of a big dill.”
It’s like when you work so hard to make a perfectly round pancake, and then you see someone just eating pancakes shaped any ole which way, and you’re like HEY! I find your laxity on this subject threatening to my round pancake way of life! Don’t you know pancakes SHOULD be round? Having sprung from the same womb, we’re like the same person, and I’m just going to backslide into irregular pancake habits if you keep doing this around me!! Gah.
18. I made Seattle Startup Week. It’s one of the bigger projects I’ve ever dreamed up, and even though I got knocked around a little bit by the big dogs and was confronted with one particular situation which I likened to the Perfect Storm of What I’m Not Good At, in the end I proved I could rally stakeholders and execute from Drawing Board to Full-Blown Week with 23 events. Woopah!
19. We are all just trying to get our needs met, in the ways we know how. My friends have introduced me to a new needs-based framework of thinking, which has helped me find empathy for myself and for others in trying situations. If Dale cheats on his wife to get out of the relationship, it’s a ‘tragic expression of an unmet need’ for autonomy, or for peace, for example. We’re not always functional in our strategies, and sometimes people can be epically disproportionate or hurtful, but if we can try to look to the need they were trying to get met, it can help us understand where they’re coming from, and be more generous through that understanding. It’s been immensely helpful for me to think in terms of my own needs when I’m trying to figure out why I just behaved a certain way (why wasn’t I nicer to her? Or, why did I just say yes to that?), or when I’m checking in with myself (why am I so anxious right now?).
This idea is very tied to
20. It’s about them, not me. Everyone experiences the world ethnocentrically. We can’t help it. If I hear that you’re moving away, on some level I’m thinking about how that affects me (but, but- who’s going to spot my handstands?). If this lady blows up at me for a misunderstanding, it’s charged by her worry that it will make her look bad to her boss, and it’s not that I am fundamentally incompetent, even if my first reaction is to internalize it as such. The phrase “They’re not against you; they’re for themselves” has been a helpful meditation.
21. The importance of practicing gratitudes. Sometimes when I wake up grumpy, and I have enough wherewithal to recognize that I’m grumpy, and then enough discipline to try and turn that around, I remember to reach for some gratitudes. I’ve found it’s one of the more reliable methods to get out of a funk. The idea that you can actively shift your focus and change the course of your day by naming 3 gratitudes and swinging your feet out of bed is comforting when you feel like your feelings are just happening TO you.
22. Awareness around self-talk. I am downright mean to myself. I am cruel to myself in ways I would never be to anyone else. I would never tell Wendy she looks fat today, or that she’s an impostor and everyone will figure out she’s not smart enough. I would never remind her of her mistakes over and over with no sense of compassion. It’s been helpful to me to work on picking out that voice in my head as something distinct so I can then turn around and change that narrative. I’m learning to recognize a mean thought as mean. And changeable. We often impose our own greatest limits on ourselves, without realizing it, but I’m learning to hear it when I do and give myself little pep talks. I can doooooo it!
23. A word on resentment and a word on shame. “Resentment is like peeing your pants. It’s uncomfortable, and you’re the only one who feels it.” “Resentment is like taking poison in the hopes the other person gets sick.” I’ve peed my poison pants a few times this year. I’ve rummaged through my new toolbox looking for an approach that gets me somewhere: What were their needs? How is it about something going on with them and not necessarily about me? What’s the story I’m telling myself, and how can I reframe my thinking around the situation?
But sometimes I’m just stymied, and I’m standing there in wet denim. And I feel shame on top of it-- shame that I can’t let go of it, shame that they still make me so angry, shame that it’s hard to wish them well. Brene Brown’s TED talk on shame says that one of the ingredients necessary for shame to persist is silence. So I tell a trusted friend. And when they don’t judge me, it helps me give myself permission not to judge myself. Sometimes you just don’t want to put on your big girl panties! And that's ok for a while.
24. I fetched my things from storage after 3.5 years. When I left San Diego, I thought I’d be gone for a year, but that turned into 2 years in Korea and then a year and a half in Seattle. I had way more stuff than I remembered having. I elbowed my way through a “parts conflict” between the sentimental person who can’t bear to throw away those intricately folded high school notes and who just miiiight pick up the flute again someday, versus the practical person who doesn’t want the burden of Things and knows she’s never going to toot a flute again.
25. Looking at assumptions I didn’t realize were assumptions. When I was sorting through the objects of my history, there were things I wanted to keep because I thought my kids would want to have it someday. And if I were not to have kids, there wouldn’t be a reason to keep it. So you know where this thinking led me? The huge life decision of whether to have kids someday or not got saddled squarely on my decision to keep, or not, this clay sun I made in 2nd grade. Ridiculous!
I kept the sun. But, I’m not sure if I want kids, and I am in the very privileged position of that being a choice I can make. Some of my best friends recently decided not to have children, and thinking on it, I realized that I just assumed I would someday, without really stopping to challenge if that was for me.
26. Otters hold hands when they sleep to keep from floating away from each other!