Committed

I'm a commitment-phobe; perhaps a recovering commitment-phobe. In fact, I was secretly doing the "giving thing" for a while before I decided to finally commit to the whole concept and do an official 29 Gifts Round. I figured it would be good conversation for my book club. I figured signing in on the site would make me more accountable, even though I thought it was a bit contrived and not really me (I'm more of a doer not a talk-about-doing doer). And so I stepped in to the commitment not realizing what I was really committing to. Hell it was only 1 month, right?!

Yesterday I realized how much that sheer act of commitment has done for me. Every day I have been accountable for giving something, and in turn I feel like I have received so much. More than that, I decided at the outset to do a blog post every day on that site so I would not forget the gifts. It compelled me to wake up every morning and write, which is my passion, my dream, my balance. Sadly, it is also something I stuff down and keep secretive and leave seemingly out of reach. A few weeks ago, I realized that this blog was me "living the dream". Yes I would love for that dream to include a book contract and publication and yes perhaps I was celebrating the purple ribbon; but for now I was doing something and was inspired enough. It surely came with the mindset reframing that has taken place.

Wednesday night we were watching American Splendor and I found myself inspired by Harvey Pekar, a file clerk who never quite his “day” job but also held on to the idea of doing something “more” with his life. It's ironic coming from a man who has such a down-trodden, negative take on life; but they call him the “everyman comic book hero” and he writes stories about real life. After the movie, I felt like something was missing in the day and I realized I hadn't done a 29 Gifts post yet because I didn’t write that morning. It wasn't the first time that has happened but it was then that I realized I have written almost every day the past few weeks. At the beginning of January, my goal was to journal 10,000 words; I am well over 30,000. It's just a number but it validates something deeper in me.

Thursday morning, I woke up with a renewed sense of habit. Funny to, I bucked my normal routine and took a shower before I went down to write. D was up making coffee before me. When he came upstairs and saw me headed to the bathroom, he said, "Oh I thought you were going downstairs; I turned on your computer and heater." I realized then, that he too was getting used to this commitment and he was supporting it. It made me shine inside.

Afterwards, I was on fire in the basement. I was mentally in a place I hadn't been before. It was as strong as the sheer bouts of joy I have experienced lately but it was more than that. It was about really feeling connected to myself and the life I want to be living. I realized too that last year I stepped in to the one hell of a major commitment by marrying D. I was scared. It was something we both put off for so long but when I said yes, I felt like I was saying yes to life. I spent the rest of the year happily surprised to find how much marriage suited me. I also spent the rest of the year committing to get my body to a size and place I found ideal. That physical change has brought so much clarification and perspective on how I've been living. A year ago I was not this person. I felt like I was glowing.

Walking to work, I remembered a conversation with JK a few days ago when she said she was a commitment-phobe. Re-thinking it, I realized it was there to make me realize what committing does for one's soul. I wondered how many people never commit to their passion in life and yet they show up regularly to jobs they hate or they serve others needs while pushing aside their own. I thought about how much more inspired my life feels when I take care of myself first and how much more I give others when I am in that "space".

I was dying to ask JK if she could commit to an idea, to a desire in her life. When we finally sat down, she said she always associates commitment with the bad things, the obligation. I completely related. We spent two hours having a juicy conversation about this topic. I told her how good I felt and that I thought she should choose to commit to anything that inspires her. Anything and hold tight to it, if only for a month. I wondered what would happen. She said the idea felt like the rabbit hole; like once she got started, there would be no way to go back. She wasn't sure how much life would shift, but she thought it would be huge. I agreed it was scary - you never know what's going to happen. Then again, I told her my bigger fear was not the rabbit hole any longer, it was that this feeling of inspiration and hope and intuitive connection would end.

Is that the secret? To be accountable for who you are and what you do and what you want out of this life? As Jack London said, “You can’t wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.” Yesterday it was so strong, I felt like I was flying. I left M a voice message saying I was spewing happiness. I wanted to say it was a good day, especially since it feels like so often I say it’s a bad day. The lights kept turning green as I approached each intersection walking home. I couldn’t help but think anything was possible.

Lemonade

I'm experiencing a visceral effect right now. In fact D just came down to say "hi" and (very supporting and surprised) asked me if I was crying. I had forgotten for a second that I broke down; just me slumped over my computer with some tears. The moment already seemed to pass when he came in from his day but apparently my runny masquera didn’t get the memo.

I'm not a crier...it’s a rare occurrence. In fact, when I got laid off I didn't cry. The layoff was months in the making and I knew walking in to work that my number was up. It was finally the job I loved and the whole experience didn’t last more than eight months. It’s funny how some of our most profound life experiences are just a wink in the face our life span. I figured I would make the best of the change; I would make lemonade out of lemons. Whatever happens, happens for a reason. Funny my friend's mom pointed out the other day, “Whatever happens, happens.” (period) Perhaps there's no reason. Damn – that can be a bit scary to digest but also rather inspiring. I mean, life’s to short to analyze the hell out of everything, right? If you’re not doing, you’re wasting your time thinking about things that are a waste of time, even if you’re thinking about doing, you’re not doing.

So something in this trailer hit me just right. The first time I watched it, as I drank a glass of lemonade (no shit), I found it so inspiring I donated money to the cause. I decided that would be my gift for the day because it made me feel the most connected. Never mind that I stayed an hour longer at work to help someone out or that I took myself and my dog for a walk on this gorgeous Denver day. None of it seemed as suiting as sending some money to a documentary created entirely with resources donated from a bunch of people and organizations. It comes from a place of giving. It’s for people feeling demoralized or isolated; so that they can feel some sense of inspiration and camaraderie. My day changed right then.

The second time I watched it, I slumped over and cried. Perhaps it has to do with feeling like I am falling short of my dream to be self-employed by taking a job that feels “off”. There was a point where I hated myself for taking said gig but I do feel now it’s all good. Especially with unemployment so high, I realize I am lucky to have said gig – it pays the bills and provides space for me to keep freelance flowing. Whatever happens, happens. I can’t fight it but I can enjoy it. Maybe there’s a reason, but I don’t see it right now.

The third time I watched it, I watched it with D. I’m pretty sure he was expecting a video about puppies or something. I welled up a little again at the end. I think it’s the line where the guys says, “I got laid off and I started doing my life’s work”. It gets me every time. Wherever you are in your life: if everything is perfect or if everything is not, do something to inspire yourself today.

Lemonade Movie Trailer

Pick Up The Phone

Officially halfway through the year, I realize I've been lost in the business of weddings, weight loss, self employment, and newlywed bliss - general Living 101. Sometimes it’s hard to make priorities, well, priorities. A dream I had the other morning made me realize just that:

I found my self selling ads for some publication. One day as I was sitting at my desk, I noticed an unsigned contract and I finally understood that it was my job to convince people to buy my company's product. I had not actually sold anything since I started. I just kept coming to work, looking busy and organizing my desk. After the realization, I sat at my desk freaking out because sales is precisely the one thing I always say I will never do. I would paint houses, become a zoo keeper, dredge lakes for dead bodies but never, NEVER, do sales. I looked at the cheesy sales guy across from me who was obviously really good at what he was doing. He looked at me and I knew he knew I just discovered what was going on. There I was - stuck. The only thing I could do was pick up the phone, call a client and get them to sign a deal with me. I had to convince them that I had what they needed. I had the strangest feeling that if I pushed myself over the hump of physically dialing the numbers, it would all work out. I would end up being one of the top sellers. I COULD do the job but I was too scared to start. Rather, I woke up instead.

Being self employed is one of my dreams. It has marinated while I grew professionally in a small business environment, then as I etched my way through corporate in house creative services, and finally as I got "called up to the show" as a corporate brand development designer for a landscape architecture firm downtown. Now, the time has come to give it the attention it deserves. I have taken it slow with the self employment factor as I gained up enough steam, confidence and connections to blow the lid off this dream. I like doing design and writing. It's a similar hybrid mentality a lot of designers and writers have. I see it when I go to freelancer meetings every month: seasoned entrepreneurs discuss client scenarios or business challenges they've dealt with and I find myself experiencing the same issues and thinking, "I get this!"

My career has arrived. I guess it has always been arriving but now I am opening up to the concept of taking myself seriously. I am picking up the phone and dialing the numbers; I am getting down to the business of being me.

A Dying Breed

Finding myself newly married has been its own adventure these past four months. It is still very novel to say, "my husband". When I hear D say, “my wife,” I almost stop to look around for some middle aged woman with wrinkles and a bad attitude. Then I realize he's talking about me and I look pretty dang good and I’m pretty dang happy.

Living with a new last name has not been such a seamless transition. I am in the process of purchasing a url for my freelance business and am leaning towards amymaillet.com. The thing is: I don’t feel like Amy Maillet. I feel like Amy Cornish with a side of Maillet. Who knew my name change would cause such an identity crisis? It is my future but what about my past? All those things Amy Cornish lived seem to fade off the charts and become something certain people “remember when”. Remember Amy Cornish?

It’s not that I have accomplished so much in my life that I need to hold on to Cornish; rather it’s a deep breed affinity for the name and the people who came before me and bestowed it on me. My ancestors, yes, but really my grandparents, my dad and his brothers and sister. People who I see rarely but feel for deeply in my heart. Good, kind-hearted, fun loving people that don’t need much but enjoy what they have. That is what I feel when I think of "Cornish". It has always been positive.

Strange too is the consideration that people I meet now will probably never know the last name I carried for 33 years. My kids will ask about it like a trivia fact. My sisters will probably all have other alias’. Six girls and no trace of the Cornish name, only the curves of our cheeks and the lightness of our personality will give it away. It is like a dying breed: someday there will be a search for cave drawings and signs of what was once a group of people bound together. We will be dispersed in the world and hidden by the society around us. We can be traced and identified only by digging under the veils of new last names.

Last night after about the 50th url suggestion and D growing weary of the conversation, I asked him if he would feel comfortable buying AndyCornish.com? He stopped and rolled that around in his mouth and didn't like the taste very much. So this name change business is not just me. It’s like rerouting a river or having a new paint color in your bedroom, it takes some getting used to. I’m not even saying Maillet is a bad thing. My name sounds so much prettier these days with the fade of the French “let”. Since it flows better now, I feel some strange validation that I made the right decision marrying this guy. Funny, I know, and there's no real weight to the sentiment other than it’s one of those nuggets so close to my heart. And Cornish is not gone…it’s there in the middle but I refuse to be a hyphenater or a double-namer. If I’m going to do it, I’m going to do it whole.

Tomorrow's Just An Excuse Away

Yesterday I woke up with a distinct dream in my head and promptly lost it because it thought it was too cliche and stupid to write about. Today I wish I had a juicy dream to analyze. Instead I find myself on the down swing of unemployment wondering what it is I am going to do with my life and how I am going to achieve it. I tried to buy my website yesterday (OnTheFlipside.com) but alas I am not alone. I was about to settle on AmyMaillet.com but hesitated and decided to sleep on it. It just seems to lack the sense of creativity I was hoping to establish with a url.

Slowly now I am starting to plug in as I realize the time is now. Step by step can I build something? Will it be enough for this faced-paced competitive society I am living in? There is nothing left to do but try. Since I can’t figure out how to make money, I feel like the least I can do is show up everyday. Write. Create. Inspire.