The effects of a simple change

It's not often that I listen or care too much about what a celebrity has to say. Generally speaking, their words don't hold much weight outside of their own circle of friends because they're opinions. However, I will say that if I do look to celebrities for inspiration, it's hardly ever from the ones that we see on the television screen today. They range from activists to directors, photographers to bloggers and, on occasion, an actress or two.

Over the past year, I've had 3 major hair changes - the third happening last Thursday. (I'm sure you know where I'm going with this post, but humor me - especially those of you that are friends with me on Facebook or Instagram, lol.) Years ago, Coco Chanel said something about changes like this:

A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life.

Well. She was right.

I remember a few years ago when I basically cut all my hair off to sport a TWA (teeny weenie afro as we call it in the natural hair community) and I hated it at first, mostly because the local hair dresser was terrible. After I made my way back home, my original hair dresser fixed it, dyed it, and boom - after a few days, I was in love. It was freeing, it forced people to really see my face which sounds kinda crazy, but since I didn't have to deal with my hair so much, it just made it easier to notice me.

It made me notice myself…and I took a bit of pride in that, not in a bad way, but more of a healthy dose of self-love.

Fast forward to 2012, I started working as a reporter in Florida and my afro had grown quite a bit and everyone loved it…but eventually I came to terms that my best move professionally would be to make another change, so in November I went back to chemically straight hair. It was a welcome change, I mean, I could swish my hair from side to side, throw it in a ponytail, do spiral curls, all sorts of things, but after 6 months of ponytails, heat damage, and laziness on my part, I decided I needed to make a real change.

So I cut it.

And I felt like I did when I first went natural. Absolutely terrified, almost to the point of tears, when I saw the hair on the ground being swept up, followed by a feeling of joy and freedom when I looked in the mirror. No long bang, no morning frustration trying to figure out what the heck I was going to do with my hair, just easy, relaxed, with more time to do what I feel is important.

The past few days have had more reading, more music, more fun, and newly opened eyes to things I want in life - and it's obviously not just the result of an amazing haircut, but positive friends that encouraged me as I debated doing it before hand and built me up after wards.

The new look!

Smile Day

Fridays are made for smiling.

So here's what's making me smile this week.

Cute things that make me think about love and relationships.

"Two Chips" / An Animated Short from Adam Patch on Vimeo.

The Civil Wars doing…anything…but especially singing.

The Civil Wars :: Between the Bars from liveset on Vimeo.

Dancing in my apartment to this vinyl.

The end.

On faith and fear

"Faith is the substance of things unseen…and so is fear."

I had never thought of it that way, my grandfather has a special way of saying things that always come back to be so much more relevant than I ever realize and after a lovely morning conversation, those words (among many others) are still reverberating within my skull.

I've recently been in a fierce standoff with fear - and not just fear, but confidence in my abilities. I call it a standoff because it hasn't really been a fight, I've kinda let things happen and react to them rather than making things happen.

There's something about the uncertainty of the future that makes fears seem less like an unseen thing, but a definite. I know that fear has kept me from pursuing opportunities - I can recognize moments in time where I can't say a door was slammed in my face, I had simply looked at the door and walked by, too scared to knock because I was sure that the door would never open, that what was on the other side would be too much for me to handle, that I wouldn't be good enough, smart enough, that I wouldn't measure up to what the unknown people on the other side desired out of me.

It's a terrible way to go through life if I have to be completely honest, haha. Living at the mercy of unseen specters, sucking the joy out of your daily existence because you're so sure of something that you haven't even attempted. 

How many things have you not accomplished simply because you didn't try?

As I continued this conversation with my grandfather, that question began to bounce around my head. How many times had I killed a chance by simply not taking a risk?  It's crazy the logical reasons we can come up with to not pursue our purpose. It's not the right time… It's a bad economy, I have to take what I can get… I need more experience… when the truth of the matter is that we shut ourselves out for no reason. 

What's the worst that could happen? They say no. 

We seem to forget that life doesn't end there. If there's one thing this job I have now taught me, it's that no doesn't have to mean never. It just means not now. It doesn't mean to stop trying to reach that goal.

If every actor I knew stopped what they did because they heard a no, I wouldn't know many actors, lol. There's a beauty in rejection, there's beauty in continuing to fight for your life, your livelihood, your purpose, whatever it is that you love, you have to have some fight in you.

It all comes down to one thing: if I take a chance, believe in myself, I can't get discouraged by a no, but I can get discouraged if I allow my fear to stop me from asking a question, because nothing is more discouraging than letting fear - something that's all in your head - win.

Wisdom from Toronto

Happy Tuesday! If you're a normal person, you're almost halfway through the week, if you're me, or anyone with an abnormal schedule that is the same as mine (lol) today is your Thursday which gives Wednesday/Hump Day even MORE joy because it's my Friday.

I'm dancing in my seat.

Anyway, a couple years ago, I made my way to Toronto for one of my most memorable summer experiences yet, Caribana. While the memories there were spectacular (it seriously is something I must do again) it also brought a couple unexpected ah-ha moments in the form of an art display…and also in just the city itself.

The display was prints and quotes from Andrew Zuckerman's book, Wisdom. I don't remember where I was in Toronto at the time, but I am eternally grateful that I made the decision to walk into wherever I was and take in what was there for me to see. I have a few favorites (of course) but I had to share my top two with you.

I don't think there's anything more meaningful (aside from Scripture) to my life than these two things. The admission that the heart is what matters most of all (actually something that coincides with faith) and the idea that there are only two stages in life, growth or decay. Both of these things are applicable no matter where you are in life, the state of your heart will change everything in your life, what you value, what you care for, what you chase after, be it money or righteousness. The idea that standing still is decay is something that some people don't always want to recognize: becoming complacent, being absolutely satisfied with exactly where you are is almost the same as giving up - because there's always something more, whether it's getting better at your tasks or simply giving more of yourself to it or to others. There's always room for growth and the desire to see that happen in our lives separates those that achieve greatness in their life from those that will settle into their comfort zone.

As a final note: Toronto, you have my heart. I will have to come back, because any place that puts ads like this one on the walls is a place that I want to be. 

It's my hope that words of inspiration will soon be plastered all over the place. Words that encourage people to love one another, to give to one another, to care for their fellow man not expecting anything in return…to truly make man kind.

Have a happy day you guys - SMILE AT SOMEONE! 

An ode to my first home.

Humble beginnings, man I tell ya.

For me, moving into my first "home" or at least my first apartment was a big step. I've spent my entire life surrounded by people at basically all parts of my life and now, for a little over a year, I've been alone.

This weekend was one of the most stressful and emotional times I've experienced while living here. Who knew being alone could be so painful and lonely? Not me.

I've lived the majority of my life moving around, making new friends, and for some reason, I thought this move would be just like all the rest, a standard, pick up and go. I understood at my core that I wouldn't know anyone in the area, that it would basically be college all over again, but this was different than college all over again, because in college we're all alone, we're all starting somewhere new and while some of us came in with friends, many of us didn't know that many and we were all wide open for new people to invade our most private and precious spaces.

It's different now.

This home will be one of the hardest things to leave once it's time to go. Sure, it's a tiny one bedroom apartment, but it's my first place where I had to struggle with some inconvenient truths, like the fact that there is a whole lot of month when you're in your first job. That sometimes, the best thing you can do is sit on a couch and cry. That painting can be very therapeutic…and so can cooking when it comes out right.

In this apartment, I got a full grasp of the kindness of others. At least 2/3 of the things that are in my apartment were given to me and while the walls may be bare, the love that fills this place does so much more. In this apartment, I've had people come, pour out their hearts and grow close to one another, it's here that I truly learned compassion, it's here that I truly experienced transparency.

It was here that I cried out to God, screamed about life, fought with Him about what I believed and why I was here. Tried to uncover what I truly cared about and what I thought was right. It was here that He met me and taught me so much more about love and acceptance, mercy and faith. It was here that I recommitted, here that I sat and read my Bible and journaled. It was here that I changed.

This small tender space has seen me grow in ways that others couldn't. It's watched me learn how to organize my bills, clean, play guitar, and learn to live without…and to be content in that.

Home sweet home.

In my short 23 years of life, I've been unsure of many things. I wasn't positive that I would be able to do this, but I knew that I didn't have a choice and that when it came down to it, I would have to buck up and face the situations given to me. Moving to Panama City Beach with a laptop, a suitcase full of clothes, and an air mattress was one of the boldest moves of my life. It had one guarantee: an opportunity to follow my dream, but nothing else. It did not promise me friends that would be like family, it didn't promise me happiness, it didn't promise me fulfillment, it promised a chance…so I took it.

And for that Panama City Beach will always have a piece of my heart.

The beauty of muchness

Happy, happy Friday. What a week it has been, full of calm moments and a couple incredibly exciting ones that I hope to be able to write about later, but as it stands, the timing simply isn't right! However there are some things that simply cannot be held under wraps forever…one of them being the most charming of mentors that I've gained while living in Panama City Beach: Ms. Eugenia - henceforth and forever more known as Mama E.

Last night over homemade tortilla soup garnished with Cooler Ranch Doritos and shredded cheese we talked about any and everything before I had a miniature revelation about my nature.

I have an adorable amount of muchness in my 5'7" frame. The term, muchness made popular by Alice in Wonderland has been defined officially by another blogger as this:

The innocence and imagination that appears in the hearts of young children. As the children grow older, they become more mature and gain responsibilities.

 

What exactly does it mean to lose your muchness? Is it simply growing older and losing who you were as a child? Is it coming to terms that reality isn't as great as we thought it would be when we originally said we couldn't wait to be grown-ups? I don't know what expectations I had as a child, I knew I wanted to be great, I knew I wanted to have a distinct effect on the world, but most importantly, I never wanted to lose my heart. I never wanted to lose my compassion for people, because even at a young age, I knew of the importance of giving to others and loving them with all you had.

As I've said multiple times (I'm pretty sure I mentioned it yesterday now that I think about it) my job has given me the opportunity of a lifetime: to spend my days meeting people, traveling, writing, and, most importantly, learning. For that reason - truthfully just that last one is enough - I have maintained my muchness, kept it at a distinct level of childlike wonder because there is always so much more to learn.

When Alice went back down the rabbit hole a second time, the Mad Hatter makes it very clear that she is not as she once was, she has changed and in that change she has lost the ability to fulfill her purpose. Every now and then, I wonder if I've dialed back my muchness, if I've lost important qualities that made me who I was a child. I believe that a big part of my muchness growing up was found in hope and being an adult has stripped away some of my naive beliefs about the world, the things I learn many times has caused me to lose faith in the goodness of people. Thankfully, over the past year, I've met a number of individuals that have shown me despite the uglies in the world, there is still many desirable things that breed positivity in this world.

Honestly, it's a scary thought, growing older and losing the very essence of who you were, or who you are. So, I've decided on my days off to explore my muchness…to go on adventures, to explore and be as childlike as possible because, if I were to lose all my muchness, I would lose a ginormous part of me…and it's a part that I don't think I ever want to be without!

Life comes at you fast

This is me in a state of bliss. No, seriously. I love my job.

You know what insanity is? Realizing that in 5 days, you'll officially be two years out of college, in your dream job, living on the beach. Honestly, it's the best kind of insanity there is out there and every day I sit back and thank God for the blessing of being where I am in life.

I know I talk about how thankful I am for the opportunities I have, how grateful I am for a chance to learn every day at my job, to not be stuck behind a desk 8 hours of the day, but sometimes I really have to let it truly sink in that I have the best job on the planet for me.

However, like I've said in that past, there are some definite downsides to this and one of those downsides came up in the struggle of covering the Boston Marathon bombings.

Breaking news is a big deal in so many ways to people who watch the news but even more so for those that "make" the news. The world we live in is so different than it ever was and I'm still waiting for television news to figure out it's place with the scope of what viewers expect changing so much.

The other day I had a gchat conversation with a friend of mine who said he didn't understand why reporters from CNN didn't get any closer to where police were. Earlier last week, I had another friend comment on how slow television stations were at reporting the facts and how he get most of his information from blogs and Reddit on the tragic situation. Then another friend made her own statements about how the news is potentially putting our police officers in danger for reporting things they're hearing over the scanners and whatnot.

Okay.

First, reporting things heard over the scanners is just a huge no. There's that. There's no if's, and's, or but's about that. Period.

Now that that's out the way, I feel like it's important for my industry to take a step back and look at everything that happened wrong in our coverage. I've learned that as much as I want to be first on a story, it's 1 MILLION TIMES more important to be accurate…but how do we reconcile that in a time when many of our viewers think they're entitled to information?

Well…I have one opinion to the whole thing. Viewers are entitled to one thing and one thing only: facts. As a reporter my job isn't to speculate, it's not to make assumptions about anything, but to investigate and get to the bottom of the issue. There's a reason reporters prefer to get emotional sound bites from people versus facts: we can say the facts, I'm not here to represent my subject's feelings, plain and simple.

You can't compare television news to a blog because, generally speaking, most people spouting things off on the Internet aren't triple checking their sources for accuracy. We aren't one in the same, so - to all my friends asking us to stoop to that level - well, you see how that ends up. To my other friend that suggested we get closer, well…after being told by police for lesser stories to back up from a scene or move further away from a location - for my own safety - I will just say: no.

My job isn't to change my standards for reporting to satisfy the viewer. My job is to get facts from multiple sources...or better yet, get the source saying it on camera to attribute what's being said, that way it doesn't blow up in my face should it be wrong.

If CNN had been right with their exclusive report, everyone would know and everyone would probably move on from it, but because they were wrong, it won't go away so easily; people may not remember who reported it first, but they will remember who reported it wrong.