the big lie my generation told me

I attribute my late silence to growing pains. When I'm processing heavy stuff, my words seem to leave me. It's like I need all of my brain power to stew on my thoughts until I can come to some sort of conclusion.

Thankfully, I've finally reached it:

My generation lied to me.

Perhaps lie is too strong a word because it implies a willful act. It means that someone, somewhere premeditated an action and determined to kill the truth. Or at least hide it.

I'm going to remain positive and believe that my generation is just mistaken. Misinformed.

All I know for sure is that whoever equated living a meaningful life with doing work that lights a fire in your belly really missed the point. Woefully missed the point.

I've finally uncovered that the path to a meaningful life is a varied as a snowflake.

For some, that means putting in eight hours at a workplace so you can provide a safe home for your family. For others, that means the life of a nomad, living on the road. And, yes, for others that means making a living writing or freelancing or owning a small business.

I don't have all the answers, but I do know this:

For me, finding a meaningful life begins with finding contentment.

I started this blog in a very discontented place. I believed that my life had no value because I wasn't living off my passion. I had let others convince me that I was renting out my mind and settling for something I didn't want. I lost sleep worrying about how to make money off my passion. I cried on my lunch breaks. I put an incredible amount of pressure on myself, believing that I wasn't worth anything unless I wrote for a living. I read blogs and felt like I could never measure up.

I forced myself into believing that I would be happy if I could just ____.

That was my error.

That was the lie I believed. That something needed to happen before I could embrace happiness.

In reality, happiness was sitting there waiting for me to grab her. To claim her for my own whatever the circumstance. I realized that the universe gifted me with unique talents in the field I'm currently in. I understood that trying to convert my passion for writing into a paycheck diluted it into a chore. Instead of letting my words flow and writing about what suited my fancy, I hawked my words to publications that dictated word counts and deadlines and topics that didn't interest me. In the meantime, I let beautiful time go to waste at a job that matters to me, my work that impacts lives.

For weeks now, I've embraced my current moment.

I've woken up excited to go to work. I've fallen in love with a new form of exercise. I've relaxed in the evening watching Downton Abby. I've stopped grinding my teeth in my sleep. I've reveled in sleeping in on Sunday mornings instead of punishing myself logging miles to keep up with the running Jones'.

At the same time, I'm still striving, still looking forward, still excited about the future. The difference is: I'm also perfectly content just where I'm at.

And that's the truth.

Belie' dat homie.

Quit making excuses!

I don't know about you, but I can find an excuse for anything. 


My latest centers around the need for a laptop. My justification for my inconsistent blogging is that I don't have a laptop. Never mind I have a perfectly acceptable albeit slow computer on the lovely desk in my bedroom. It's just that after sitting behind a desk all day at work, the last thing I want to do is neglect the boyfriend and spend my evenings at a different desk.

See? An excuse if I ever heard one.

Thing is, I'm tired of my own excuses. So, I took matters into my own hands:

Enter the most ghetto-fabulous writing station on this planet. I laugh just looking at this photo, but it works. I finished out the Women I love series from the comfort of my couch while Keith watched a movie. We were able to sit and talk while I did what I love most:

write. 

As humans, we're problem solvers. We see a need and we fill it. In our lazy culture, we look around for a new material possession when we have a need. In my experience, the possession is the crutch. If you have passion and intelligence, you have the tools to be successful. Period. 

Do I still want a laptop? You betcha. But, I want to write for a living more. Even if that means I write at my janky computer "desk" until the kingdom comes.  

Not sure where this is going

I attended a webinar a few days ago that still has me thinking.

Thankfully, I realized that I have no interest in spending all of my time building a blog that helps people become a freelance writer. I thought I did.

I did have a huge epiphany, though.

An idea I brushed off a year ago as impossible isn't impossible at all.

I have an idea that will change the world.

So, I think I'm going to spend my time developing that instead of doing photo challenges or writing a blog about becoming a writer.

It doesn't necessarily mean I'll never write here anymore,

but it is certainly an about-face from the direction I was heading.

Finally, I'm starting to realize that doesn't mean failure at all. It's just another stop on this wild ride I call life.

Photo Challenge: words

Words give me life. Reading a book, writing a blog post, receiving a loving text message from my mom, endless hours with my google reader. I devour anything written.

Lately, I'm determined to derive my living through words. I'm overflowing with so many ideas, I often find myself coming home from work and furiously etching out businesses plans on the dry-erase board hanging in my kitchen. Below is yesterday's revelation.

The real challenge, though, is living by my word. 

That involves taking responsibility for making my carefully-laid plans a reality. 

It involves sticking with my ideas even when they're not popular. 

It involves huge risk, because underlying all of the plans is this promise:

I will live a meaningful life, on my own terms. 

This photo is part of the February Photo Challenge by @fatmumslim. Learn more about why I'm participating here. 

Coming out of my depression

On two separate occasions, my sisters approached me with the d word.

"It's not that you're showing the typical signs of depression," she said. "It's just that you have so many highs and lows. I noticed that especially when you lived with me. Obviously, you were going through a lot at that time, but I still worried."

"You know grandma struggled with depression her entire life," the other said. "It's not something to be ashamed of, but it's definitely something you should think about. We just want you to be happy."

Though I appeared receptive, my blood boiled inside. How can you ask me if I'm depressed and then leave me to go on with my lonely life day after day? How can I tell you that I am unhappy with my work and in the same breath hear you encourage me to stick it out because the economy is tough (while still asking me if I'm depressed)? How can I go through a devastating divorce at 24 and not experience highs and lows? Is that even possible?

I continued on with my life, sinking lower every day.

I'd go home on my lunch break and cry big alligator tears, asking myself


"what the hell is wrong with you? You have a good job, a great apartment, a [nice] new boyfriend. You've made a new life for yourself and yet you still can't find the resolve to be happy? You ungrateful wench."

I'm sure you know this, but self-deprecation only propels the spiral of depression. Soon, you're trapped in the bottom of that tunnel. Surrounded by four walls that don't let an ounce of light in.

Escapism Saved Me


I'd sit behind my desk and couple an hour of intense productivity with an hour of blissful escapism into the blog world. Their stories showed me examples of people living their passion, proving to me that it is possible to dearly love the work you put into this world. Blogs encouraged me to live off my passion, to value travel above material possessions, to pursue my dreams even if they seemed crazy.

They encouraged me to do something every day to make my dreams a reality. Never wait for the right time to make a move. To contact editors even when I was almost sure of rejection. To start another blog.

They gave me hope.

Hope gave me action.

Action gave me a way out.

I'm not sure what my future will bring, but I know without a doubt that I am moving resolutely in the direction of my dreams.

And, thankfully, I'm not taking that depression with me.

It's good to be a little overwhelmed

In college, I always bit off more than I could chew. My days flew by in a flurry of meetings and commitments and late-night cramming sessions. I volunteered, I interned, I worked, I worked out and I still managed to write.

At my first job, I worked for a software company in Africa and worked hard. I'm talking an early night ended at 7pm. I'm talking landing and launching multi-million dollar government projects.

Even though it seems like it, I'm not trying to brag. I'm just trying to remind myself that I'm capable of a lot.

You see, I've fallen into a complacency over the last year that is just not like me at all.

I go to work at 8am and I go home at 5pm. Sometimes I work out. Occasionally I cook a healthy meal. Often, I pop way too many Bud Lights and complain about my life situation. I'm not proud of it, but it's the truth.

I sit at home and feel unhappy about my career, weight and financial situation. I make half-hearted attempts to improve myself only to abandon them before I even start them.

This January ushered in a new era. It just happened to coincide with the New Year. I promise I didn't plan it that way.For the first time ever I didn't set a SINGLE resolution related to my weight or my career.

The only thing I promised myself was that I would pay off my 29.99 annual-percentage-rate $5,000 credit card.

Then, I decided to join a running group to train for a half marathon, training six days every week.

Then, my niece challenged me to a sugar fast.

I happened to get great assignments for my freelance magazine gig and then landed a monthly feature in another newspaper.

To top it off, I decided to move to a (cheaper) apartment one town over.

I'm a little overwhelmed. And tired, cranky and wishing I had a Pepsi like a mofo.

Yet, I feel like I'm finding myself again. I have this feeling that I'm on my way to something big, but I just have to stay the course.

I just have to show up and do the work of today without any regard for how I"m going to face tomorrow.

And somehow, miraculously, it's all going to come together.