Gardening in High Heels

cultivate a beautiful life

Vulnerability

People undervalue vulnerability. And part of that means they don’t authentically share what’s happening in their lives as it’s happening. They wait until something shiny comes along, slap on an Instagram filter, and present a polished version of what’s happening.

I’m not saying don’t share the great things that happen to you, I’m just asking why we can’t also appreciate the messy things. The stuff that gets swept under the rug because we don’t want to look like we don’t have it all together. Trust me, I do it, too. If you were to go in my head now, it would look something like these dogs:

and a little like this girl:

So, for Day 1 of #100DaysBlogging (thanks to Emily Levenson for the challenge), I’m sharing where I am, right now, in all of it’s authentic vulnerability.

One of my biggest insecurities is that I feel like I’m playing dress-up and just make believing that I’m an adult with a real job and real responsibilities and at any moment, someone will come along and say, “You’re not an adult yet! You don’t have x, y, and z, so you’re not really there, you don’t know what it’s like to be ‘an adult.'”

Then I get to thinking: That’s right! I rely on my stepfather to pay the Verizon bill. I’m not really a “real adult.” And while I’m at it..Why should someone care about what I’m writing? What difference does it make? What do I know about x, y, z? Who else knows that I’m really not strong and capable and just pretending to get it all together? What will happen when they find out I’m not as good as they thought I was?

My mind. It can run amok sometimes.

Call it imposter syndrome or playing pretend. Call it whatever you want.

But sometimes you have to roll around in what’s real for you in the moment and get really comfortable being messy for a while.

I have been protecting myself from those thoughts. But trying to shield yourself from getting hurt, from discomfort and awkward situations, dulls you to the outside world. Vulnerability is a crucial part of the creative process. Hell, to the living process. And that means getting really comfortable admitting that those voices are valid, but they aren’t driving the car.

So if we never allow ourselves the opportunity to be vulnerable, we never allow ourselves to experience everything on a scale from -10 to 10. We stay firmly in the -3 to 4 range. That’s a small window of opportunity.

It’s like Andy Warhol said, “I never fall apart because I never fall together.” And that guy knew something about experimentation and being open to new opportunities.

Embrace where you are right now. Share what’s real without the rosy Instagram filter making everything look flawless. Sit in the dirt and get comfortable with vulnerability. It’ll open some interesting doors if you let it.

I’m off to take a big dose of my own medicine.

How are you embracing vulnerability?

Embracing vulnerability as a creative person is absolutely imperative. Get comfortable being a little uncomfortable!

1/100 — #100DaysBlogging

Style is Subjective

This, like the defining beauty post, is a hard one for me to focus my thoughts.  You guys have seen some of my outfits, so that’s a pretty good feel for how I approach dressing.  But there are so many more ways to look at style than just your clothes.  What you do and say are just as important as what you wear.  So I thought I’d tackle this Blogger, May I prompt a little bit differently when describing my style.

Style is fluid and uniquely your own.

Of course, clothes are first thing that people notice 99% of the time, but there are more ways to look a style.  How do you act, carry yourself, speak, write, dare I go here…smell.  Style is entirely subjective and matters so much more of what you do with it than what you look like.

I’m still trying to figure out what my style is.  In real life, I try to be witty and I’m a lot sarcastic, quick to pick up on references that I get and turn of phrases.  There are times I think I could go into standup comedy, especially when I’m on a snarky rant about kids these days or the customers I work with.  It’s just one one-liner after another with a sharp bite and a cheeky attitude.

In writing, I’m still trying to work on making that liveliness come through all the time.  There are so many ways that tone can be misconstrued when writing and that’s what I’m worried about.  But I should sit here and say, Listen, if you don’t get it, that’s okay; you do your thing and I’ll do mine and we’re both gonna be okay.

It was easier when I was just writing for myself, back in the days of Moda Vivendi.  I loved those posts.  They aren’t particularly blogger-y, but they’re me.  I loved that quick bite that came through the screen.  I probably employed that style a lot more because back then, I wasn’t well known.  Well, I’m not now, but you know what I mean.

What I love about style is that it is constantly changing.  We aren’t stuck with one way of being.  It’s always moving and flowing from one iteration to another.

I’m so thrilled to have you come on the way with me during this, though; unlike Moda Vivendi, it’s more fun when I can communicate with people!

In a nutshell, style is more than just what you’re wearing.  It’s like beauty – the whole package is your style.  There are elements that are more pronounced, but they all work together to create your own unique style.

That said, I’m a jeans and tee shirt kinda gal.

What’s your style?


A thank you

Today’s Blogger, May I prompt is tips for being a tourist in your own town.  I’m not going to lie, I didn’t even prepare to write this.  And it kills me because I love Pittsburgh and I always want to share new and fun places and people and things.  So I’ll still write about it, but not today.

Yesterday, I met with another Pittsburgh professional whom I knew from a breakfast group (that’s sadly disbanded, it seems).  You know how you meet people and you just instantly click with them?  He’s one of those kinds of people.  I haven’t seen him in about a year, but we still had a great conversation.

And it got me thinking about passing of time and growth and where I started off and how far I’ve come.  Back when I was in high school and thought I was hot shit all the way to the present day.  Pittsburgh has an interesting way of connecting people and I love it.

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has laughed with me, who has let me be in their lives, who stood by me as I stumbled and fell, who have offered to help me out, who want to see me succeed, and who are with me as I’m standing up and moving forward.

Today my interview with Marissa at Ampersand Creative was unleashed.  So another thank you to her for asking me to share a little of me with her and her readers.

Choose to see the good in the world.

Thank you for choosing to see the good in me.


 Need the prompts for the Blogger, May I challenge?  Gotcha covered.  Want to use your own prompts?  No problem!  Just grab a button to show that you’re linking up with myself, Katy, and Meghan.  Oh, and use #BloggerMayI on Twitter/Instagram to keep the fun going even after you hit Publish!

Home

Today’s Blogger, May I prompt is Where Do You Call Home.  Man that is a loaded question.

Home to me is where the kitchen is. It's the warmest place in the house!

Since I was about 10 or 11, I lived in two different places.  Half of my life was spent at my mom’s house, the other half was spent at my dad’s house.  I still have clothes and shoes spread out between the different locations, even though I’m living in my own house (which is actually my mom’s house that I’m renting from her while she is living in Virginia).

I’ve given a lot of thought to the idea of “home” recently.  If you go back to posts in March, you’d see that I spent a lot of time whining that I had to pack up my father’s house while he was in the hospital.  It’s one thing to move away from your first home, but it’s another entirely to pack it up and sell it.  Two different mindsets, I guess.  You can always go back if you move away.  When you sell it…well, you can’t go back to those memories.

It’s ironic that I’m writing this because I just found out that my father is putting his house on the market.  It’s happening for sure whereas back in March it was a suggestion from his sisters.  It’s definitely bittersweet.  He and I acknowledged that I can’t live there and take care of him forever and that I’ve worked hard to afford what I can and get where I am.

And it’s sad to think that last year, we unwittingly had our last Christmas there.  And Easter.  And birthdays.

But now, home is where my kitchen is.  Like I wrote a few weeks ago, my mom’s kitchen is one of my favorite places.  I love to cook and bake.  I definitely got that from both of my grandmas, but my mom had a biiiig role in that, too.

She taught me a great deal in her kitchen.  I tried to make her kitchen my own, but some things still remain, the her Pfaltzgraff rejects (she got new ones so I got the hand-me-downs.  Not complaining!)  Nice little touches of home.

Pfaltzgraff utensil holder

Franktuary poster

So while home is in transition right now, I’ll still have things that remind me of my dad’s house, like the bookcases he built that were in the living room the whole time I was growing up (I already said I’m taking those, no exceptions) and the beautiful Barry Jeter pieces he bought for me.

Where is home for you?

An InLinkz Link-up


You’re never too old to be considerate

Today’s post is brought to you by #HashtagHumpday and some genuinely annoying kids from last week.

We're ranting about consideration in today's #HashtagHumpday link up post!

So the other day I was at Starbucks with Jonathan.  There was a small child to my left with his parent and a woman to my right (by herself).  #WhoBuysTheirFiveYearOldAnythingFromStarbucks?

I went to put my cup down in between the two so I could get some milk.  I set my cup down, took the lid off, and the kid (#ClearlyNotPayingAttentionToTheWorld) bumped me so my coffee spilled all over my hand and the counter.

This is the best part.  Are you ready for it?  #WaitForIt

The father looked at the kid, looked at me, and said, “Okay, let’s go now.” #AreYouKiddingMe?!

I am so sick of this self-centric culture we are living in.  I understand that a small child my not know what he’s doing or be paying attention to the world around him, but the job of the parent is to teach your child to pay attention to the world around him.

Something similar happened later that day.  We were leaving an area where there were many kids (and parental supervisors) were putting on socks and shoes.  And the kids were just sitting in the middle of the walkway area.

Are you surprised that these people aren’t watching out for their kids?  If I tripped and hurt one of their kids, it would be my fault instead of the parents for not keeping them safely out of the way of a busy area.

Seems like they could be a little more concerned for their kids’ well being here, don’t you?  If the job of the parent in example one is to teach their child to pay attention, it seems like the lesson here is to pay attention to the safety of your kids.

I was lucky to have parents that didn’t raise me to be a self-centered brat.  If I stopped in the middle of an entryway, I was told to move.  If I bumped in to someone, I was told to excuse myself.  If I was walking in a public area, I stayed to the right rather than taking up an entire hallway.

It is absolutely mind blowing to me that some people are so passive with their children.  They are shaping minds.  Minds that we all have to live with.  It would be a much nicer place to live if we were considerate of others.  And we could teach that to the future generations.

Sure, I understand that we all have to watch out for ourselves.  If we don’t have our best interest in mind, who will?  I get that.  But there’s nothing wrong with being polite and saying excuse me.

I just can’t believe that someone would basically allow their children to spill coffee all over someone and then #WALKAWAY?!?

Maybe I’m getting older and a few years ago this wouldn’t have bothered me.  Or maybe this egotistical attitude is compounding more and more.  Whatever it is, I’m tired of it.

All I know is that this wouldn’t have been such a problem when I was younger.  It definitely wouldn’t have been a problem when my parents were younger.  Going back even further, still not a problem.  Where do you think we learned how to be polite?  #DingDinDinggg: from our parents.

I’d love to just sit down in the middle of the floor and refuse to move, but life isn’t that way.  We all have to get a long with each other, so can’t we make it a little easier on ourselves?

So that was my rant for this week.  What about you?

I’m linking up with Life With Lolo and Genuinely Lauren to air some grievances for #HashtagHumpday.

#Hashtaghumpday @ Life with Lolo

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