Why I'm taking a social media break

For the past few years, I've spent January sober, taking the time to detox from holiday drinking and reset for the coming new year. During Dry January, I discovered more energy. I slept better, and I felt less stressed. This year, I thought, why not apply this same method to my digital life. In August, I intend to stay off social media. My goal is to do less scrolling and more scribbling.

During the pandemic, I've found myself spending more time on social media and news sites than ever before. In the early days, I convinced myself I had corona after experiencing shortness of breath, thanks to a COVID-induced anxiety attack. Lately, I've found myself in an all-too comfortable evening ritual. Every night ends the same way the day began, with an endless scroll through social media, desperately seeking clarity and understanding as the world collapses into crisis. Yes, the doom scroll is real.

To be clear, I don't plan on giving up social media entirely. Social media has affected my life in many positive ways. In fact, social media has helped me and countless others stay connected during the lockdown. It's also served as a tool to share resources amid the ongoing Black Lives Matter movement. Yet, for me, as I grasp for a coping mechanism for being sequestered in my home, social media feels more like a compulsion than a tool for connection. It's become a distraction from the real work I should be doing – caring for myself, looking after the people closest to me, active learning, and unlearning.

To start, I plan to delete social media apps from my phone. For now, it's goodbye, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Reddit. I'll replace screen time with more reading. I also intend to use this time for other creative projects – sewing, tinkering in my garden, testing new recipes, writing, drawing, and going for walks. If I'm feeling wild, who knows, I may start running again. For the moments I reach for my phone, I aim to grab my journal (or my notes app) instead. I plan to reflect on what's going on in that specific moment and understand why I use social media. I hope to return with a detailed reflection on lessons learned and a new perspective.

If you're craving some space, why not spend a little time away?

Sweat equity and the joy of cultivating a garden

In this season of unknowns, like others, I am leaning into the small rectangular patch of earth behind our city row home. With many people are confined inside, now is an excellent time to be a home gardener. (Insert bubbling anxiety over the food supply chain here.) In gardening, there are stabilizing forces that ground us when we are feeling uncertain. The predictable rhythms of the garden are very comforting. For me, it's something positive I can control. Nothing quite beats that "Hey, I grew this!" feeling.

Let's rewind back to 2019, to the birth of my garden. I began the year with grand plans meticulously sketched out on some scrap paper. What can I say? I'm a dream-big-or-don't-dream-at-all kind of person. I envisioned a quaint wooden fence, a raised bed bursting with fresh vegetables, and beautiful native wildflowers framing the yard. Our patio was host to a block of marble perched on two cinder blocks from a previous renovation. I imagined the gray veined white slab polished down, serving as a bar top with twinkly lights woven through our pergola.

Last spring, I made tackling the knee-high weeds my primary mission. I leveled out much of the very dense, clay soil in the empty beds. I started composting. When our neighbor's cherry blossom tree sheds its flowers, and later its leaves, I incorporated them into the soil. Grass clippings and other organic matter? I turned those into the ground too. As I dug holes for new plants, I backfilled them with organic soil amendments. I didn't realize how much work I had taken on until I was smack in the middle of a garden, an actual, legit garden. What was once a barren weedy plot, save three outcast red tulips, I cultivated into a cheerful arrangement of flowers and vegetables. I felt accomplished, but I also felt exhausted.

Amending the soil, moving dirt, and planting took up a lot of time. My other garden goals fell by the wayside. Although we did build our raised bed! After the neighbor's overgrown cherry blossom tree filled in with leaves, I quickly realized the raised bed's once sunny location is now mostly shaded in the afternoon. With a lack of sunlight, and let's be real, the squirrels, none of the vegetables planted in the raised bed took off. After spotting small signs of growth, the next day, I found the squirrels used the bed as their personal feast platter. I chalked it up to another lesson learned.

In the season of pandemics, I pad outside each day and excitedly check the progress of my garden. It's become a calming ritual, along with hunting lanternfly nymphs. The native perennial flowers I planted last year are now back with full force. I harvested my first zucchini squash last week. Green and growing larger every day, my tomatoes are prolific. A few jalapeño peppers are ready to collect. Sadly, I lost a strawberry plant to squirrels. We are enjoying the overflowing bounty of herbs – oregano, cilantro, marjoram, mint, rosemary, and basil. Last week, I picked my favorite herb's mature brown seeds – cilantro (also known as coriander). I still need to do a Google on the seed germination process first. I intend to plant a few in a shadier spot and save the rest for pickling and other cooking adventures.

My garden evolved a lot since 2019, and I still have big garden dreams. For example, I would love more early spring plants to extend the growing season of my garden and benefit early pollinators. My urban garden might not be exactly where I want it, but the beauty of a garden is that it's never truly finished. A garden, much like ourselves, requires care, love, and regular weeding to produce bountiful rewards.

5 spooky books to put you in a festive mood

Spooky season is upon us. Give me your frightening, scary, disgusting, startling, or just plain weird. I’m here for it all year round. Horror and terror always have a special place in my heart, but when October arrives, the rest of the world starts craving a scary story or two to celebrate the occasion. In honor of the most wonderful time of year, here are five books most likely to set the mood and give you the creeps.

---

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

Merricat, Constance, and their Uncle Julian live in isolation on a Vermont estate, and their family has a murderous secret. Published in 1962, Jackson’s short, unsettling story masters the art of rich nuance, with the characters’ personalities subtly shifting to become more and more unhinged. I read this book while camping in the woods, and I worked myself up, merely walking to the bathhouse late at night.

“My name is Mary Katherine Blackwood. I am eighteen years old, and I live with my sister Constance. I have often thought that with any luck at all, I could have been born a werewolf, because the two middle fingers on both my hands are the same length, but I have had to be content with what I had. I dislike washing myself, and dogs, and noise. I like my sister Constance, and Richard Plantagenet, and Amanita phalloides, the death-cup mushroom. Everyone else in our family is dead.”

White is for Witching by Helen Oyeyemi

Oyeyemi puts a spin on the traditional haunted house story and tells a mystical tale about family. It is as elegant as it is creepy. Miranda is a teenage girl suffering from pica, a disorder causing victims to crave substances other than typical food. Her family moves into their ancestral home, which her parents converted into a bed-and-breakfast. The spirited house has its own ideas, frightening off the help and commanding to tell its own side of the story.

“But then, maybe “I don’t believe in you” is the cruelest way to kill a monster.”

Through the Woods by Emily Carroll

I am intensely attracted to the sequential-art narrative found in horror comics. Carroll’s bold, imaginative illustrations shine in these five chilling stories. Neither gory or graphic, the stories are unsettling in a quiet way. This is the perfect book for the spooky season, just don’t read it after dark.

“It came from the woods. Most strange things do.”

My Favorite Things is Monsters by Emil Ferris

One of my top favorite books of 2018, this debut graphic novel by Ferris is full of beautifully drawn monsters. It also tells a slightly less chilling story. Set in the late 1960s Chicago, the B-movie horror fanatic main protagonist, Karen, tries to solve the murder of her upstairs neighbor and uncovers the interconnectedness of those around her. From the impressive art, this hefty beast of a graphic novel offers a visceral reading experience I have yet to encounter again.

“Sometimes a thing happens that’s so bad that it feels like things should be made to look on the outside, the way they feel on the inside.”

Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Marie Machado

Strange and experimental, Machado’s feminist collection of short stories straddles the lines of horror, science fiction, comedy, and fantasy. Both unsettling and mesmerizing, Machado illustrates the violence and desire projected onto women’s bodies. With an extraordinary voice, Machado leaves you with unforgettable stories you can’t stop thinking about long after they are read.

“I once heard a story about a girl who requested something so vile from her paramour that he told her family and they had her hauled her off to a sanatorium. I don’t know what deviant pleasure she asked for, though I desperately wish I did. What magical thing could you want so badly they take you away from the known world for wanting it?”

What are your favorite spooky books?

Betwixt and between: discovering liminal space

Back in the fall (and if I’m being honest, a good chunk of winter too), I felt stuck. I couldn’t figure out why I was having such a hard time propelling myself forward on my new journey, a journey I consciously chose.

After waywardly drifting here and there, I stumbled on an article by Nicole Gulotta about planning for liminal space. Finally it dawned on me. I was in my own liminal space, a sort of life limbo, inching my way into a new season. According to Merriam-Webster, liminal is an intermediate state, phase or condition. (Fun fact: I was reading “Lincoln in the Bardo” by George Saunders at the time and had to Google “bardo.” In Tibetan Buddhism, bardo is the liminal state between death and rebirth.) Liminality is what happens when the future outcomes you once taken for granted, dive into the Pool of Doubt (which presumably flows into the River of Denial). And that’s exactly where I was. For someone who likes to be in control, it’s uncomfortable not knowing what to expect every day.

Marriage, divorce, illness, starting a new job, ending a job, going to college, graduation, death, birth or moving to a new house – all of these things involve liminality. You experience a degree of in between, not knowing when or what things may shift and change. (For someone who ended a job, started a new one and moved in with my partner, I was all up in the in between.)

My previous job was safe and good and warm. I was comfortable there. I knew all the rules. Better yet, I knew my role in and out, and I was good at it. It’s not that I wanted to go back to my old job, but I found myself clinging to this old season. I was still trying to play by the same rules. I felt guilty not writing for exactly eight hours, for not making money or for taking the afternoon off when I had a migraine or when my brain felt fried.

We go through life attaching ourselves to things, wanting them to last forever. But nothing lasts forever, and this makes us sad, uncomfortable, angry, or worse, violent. My life was perfectly calibrated for the way things used to be. But if I want to move forward, I needed to “Let It Go.” I had to let go of my attachment of the ways things were. It was time to create a new way of doing things. Here, there are no guidelines, no map, no right answers. Instead, there are infinite possibilities.

It hasn’t fully formed yet, this new season. I badly want to hurry things along. I don’t like waiting. I want things figured out. But it’s slowly revealing itself, like snowdrops creeping up through a blanket of snow and heralding the new spring. I need to hang in there, do the best I can, continue to carve out my new creative routine and the rest will come.

Moving on and speaking the unspoken

I struggled for months before making the decision. I liked my job just fine, the company, my boss, my co-workers. But my spirit was restless, hungry, distracted. I realized I needed to do something new. Although, I was unsure exactly what those details looked like.

Grasping to what I already knew and did well was not my path to a lived life. I was sure of that much. Although, quitting my job without another lined up felt like a risk. Not taking the leap seemed equally as risky.

All along, I’ve felt this longing to create, to write, to make a difference in the unique way I feel called. I can feel it in my bones. A voice inside me calling me to be the person I was born to be. It’s why I switched my major from practical elementary education to impolitic professional writing.

Much like everyone else, I also felt this economic urgency after college. When I was about to graduate in 2009, the market crashed. I felt compelled to safeguard my economic future. I thrust myself into the closest job I could find. I was sucked into reality, into a world constantly telling us who we are and who we ought to be. A world, where E.E. Cummings suggests, “is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else."

At the end of June, I quit my day job. Now, I’m moving on to something new. I’m walking straight into my not-knowing, speaking the as-yet unspoken and taking the risk of failing. I’m bursting my bubble of comfort and convention. I am taking a leap, a leap unlike any other. I am dedicating myself fully to writing.

I’m carving out a new path on my roadmap, amid the valleys, pinnacles and detours. I give myself up to it. I am beginning again, in a different way.

Writing in the age of social media

We share things instantly, often without thought, on Snapchat, Instagram and Facebook. Our age is one of crafted Harry Potter listicles, what-dessert-best-represents-me Buzzfeed quizzes (a tart, of course) and the now 280-character, emoji-filled retweets. It begs the question, does blogging, or better yet long-form writing, still matter now that we have Facebook and Twitter? Does anyone care what you have to say? Or are you merely adding to the noise that is the internet?

My answer is a resolute yes. Writing is as relevant and important as ever. Are we not judged by our cover letters and resumes? Our hurried emails? If your words are confusing, unorganized or riddled with typos, particularly in your resume, your audience is likely to writer you off as a poor communicator. Do you really want to work with someone who isn't serious enough to proofread their resume?

Writing helps you translate and understand the world. It's is a way to see the world more clearly. Not only that, but when you write, you must consider the point of view of the reader. (Hii!) You must consider the world from a perspective that is not your own. Welcome down the wonderful path to empathy.

Emojis can only go so far at conveying meaning. And my emoji game is pretty strong. Thoughtful writing has the power to persuade, inspire or change someone’s life. Regardless of the technology ahead, well crafted sentences and engaging paragraphs will endure. Compelling stories matter. They just need someone willing to tell them.

Personal branding with a purpose

In the digital age, personal branding is an absolute must. In fact, while you may not realize it, you already have a brand. How you present yourself face-to-face, on social media and Google are all reflective of the brand you’re building. Whether you’re seeking a new job, wanting to move up in your organization, thinking about a career change, launching a new business or looking to attract new clients, a strong consistent personal brand is key to creating new opportunities for your career or business.

What do people think when they hear your name? What do they say about you when you’re not in the room? That’s all personal brand. The better question is: do you leave your personal brand up to chance or do you take charge of it?

A few weeks ago, I gave a presentation to Lancaster Young Professionals at The Candy Factory on personal branding, a topic I love talking about. I touched on the importance of creating a personal brand, shared examples of young professionals who have built their own personal brands and provided a few actionable ways to grow and maintain your personal brand.

For the full slide deck, check out "Personal branding with a purpose" on SlideShare.

Featured image by Ernesto Artillo.

See the exciting project I'm working on

Since many of you don't live in Lancaster, you probably missed it. Local reporter Meredith Jorgensen interviewed me on WGAL News 8! Watch the full video here. We discussed the exciting project I've been spending so much time working on. Lancaster Young Professionals is hosting its first-ever Red Rose Gala on October 28. It's kind of a big deal. You can read more about it here or buy your tickets now.

We're also looking for two young professionals to receive our first award, the Lancaster Young Influencer Award. Community service is such a big part of our organization. So, we decided to create an award honoring two great young people in Lancaster who dedicate their time giving back to the community. If you or someone you know qualifies for the award, please nominate them. The nomination deadline is September 5.

Life is always better with a dog

They say life is better with a dog. And if you've ever had a dog, you understand the truth in this statement. Dogs get dirty, cause trouble, give sloppy kisses and make messes, but they are always there. Whether they are sleeping at your feet, waiting for you to come home or sharing an adventure, dogs come armed with a special, unconditional love. They never fail to make the best of everything. We can learn a lot from our dog friends. I know I have.

Toby the dog was no different. He caused A LOT of trouble in his heyday. He was adept at stealing and destroying all my mom’s Isotoner slippers, eating uncooked chicken right off the counter, slobbering on the windows after they were just cleaned, sniffing all the crotches and butts, make a beeline over the mountain for a run in the woods and laying in the middle of the hallway just waiting for the unsuspecting someone to trip over him.

Slipper stealer

As he got older, you could hear every creak and groan in his old body. Fooled by his eyes, he’d bark at nothing. Yet, every night without fail he’d trudge up the steps to sleep at the bottom of my parents' bed. He made the best of his aged self and never stopped loving us.

Over the past weekend, Toby had a stroke. We thought he had recovered, showing positive signs of improvement. He even managed to climb the stairs to sleep at the bottom of my parents' bed! Last night, we think he had another stroke. His old and achy body just couldn’t handle any more stress. With labored breaths, he slipped away in the early hours of Monday morning.

It will be weird going home this weekend for Jace's birthday. For once, Toby the dog will not be there with his warm greetings and love. Despite his zany antics, Toby was a cherished family member. He made my life better because of his love, joy, silliness and appreciation of simple things. Here’s hoping Toby's in doggie heaven enjoying a field of stolen slippers!

Toby the Dog

30 things to do before 30

I have less than three years until I turn 30. (My 30th birthday is on June 5, 2017.) Jeeze. Where the heck did my twenties go? I feel like just yesterday I was traveling through Spain and celebrating my 21st birthday on Mallorca. Time just flies. I've already accomplished and attained a lot of things I've wanted in my life. But there's always more out there to explore, dream and discover. No time like the present to accomplish all the things we continue to put off until tomorrow. Here's my list in no particular order:

1. Run a 10K
2. Write the first draft of a book
3. Develop a regular meditation practice
4. Go skydiving
5. Go on a full-moon hike
6. Hike Mt. Kilimanjaro
7. Pay off my student loan debt
8. Send 30 cards, letters, gifts to friends and family
9. Take a cross-country road trip
10. Unplug for a full day
11. Host a dinner party
12. Complete a 30 day challenge - write every day, take a picture every day, go vegetarian, etc.
13. Try stand up paddleboarding
14. Cook my way through an entire cookbook
15. Go on a camping trip without my parents
16. Buy a stranger their morning coffee
17. Ride in a hot air balloon
18. Attend a yoga retreat
19. See a Broadway show
20. Watch 30 classic films
21. Take a self-defense class
22. Go zip lining
23. See the Grand Canyon
24. Travel to Greece
25. Visit a psychic
26. Do a juice cleanse
27. Create a morning routine
28. Take a solo trip somewhere
29. Get a proper desk
30. Build something with Ruby on Rails

My list includes a lot of traveling and adventure, but, for the most part, I think these things are all fairly attainable. I'm not trying to put myself on a timeline. Instead, I'm giving myself a light shove in the direction of accomplishing things I continue to put off or am afraid to do. I look forward to crossing these off my list one by one. The countdown begins now!

Do you have a list of things you want to do?