A boy, a job, and a burrito.

Selfishness entered my mind last week. It came in, took over and consumed me. Reminiscent on my journey into entrepreneurship, business, and growth over these recent years I have found myself having an internal struggle surrounding what I want, in comparison to what I should or shouldn't be doing. An internal struggle that screams selfish. For example, I want to take an hour lunch break everyday and go to the gym. I want to wake up in the morning and write music. I used to crave writing music, and now I feel like it has become more of a chore, something that I have to schedule in order for it to happen and even then, it gets put off because of, let's just say it gets. put. off. I want to wine and dine at least once a week. I want to install AC in my room, you seriously have no idea how muggy it is in this adorable beach house. I want to be taken seriously by fellow successful business colleagues. I want to be loved by someone who loves me, for me, and not for what I can 'give' them. Someone who wants intense, aggressive, deeply moved me. I want to be a better example to my siblings. I want to be better, everyday. Is it too much to ask? Am I being selfish for wanting these things?

I wonder when being selfless starts to kick in... is it an age thing? Or, will we always struggle to be less focused on self and more centered on others, because that is the right thing to do? For me, I think that being selfish has brought me a lesson. I think that being selfish ultimately leads to being self-less, at least this is what I am currently experiencing.

There was this boy. I wanted for so long to be with him, then I wanted him to apologize, and then I wanted things to go back to the way they were in college. When staying up till the morning was normal, macaroni and cheese was a nice meal, and being absolutely crazy obsessed with each other was annoying to other people. I wanted that. But life didn't care about what I wanted, it just happened. It unfolded so quickly and so strangely that I was yet again revisited by selfishness, wanting to feel good around him, loved by him, satisfied that he was everything I wanted, and still had.

There is this job. An incredibly powerful, life altering, emotionally draining job that makes me want to get buck wild on the weekends to unwind from the dreadful time spent looking at my computer screen. Somedays I just don't want to get up and go deal with the overwhelm, somedays I feel like I need more recognition for my efforts, more compensation for my tolerance. I want to not feel so much pressure. I just want to not worry. But working as the President, still goes to show that selfishness lingers. I still want so much.

Then there is Chipotle. My brother and I were meeting to catch up over burritos, and I wanted to bail. I wanted to go home, relax and just eat alone. I didn't want to talk about anything with him. This is probably because I knew deep down I was avoiding a conversation that had been laid on my heart for a while. Then I put myself in his shoes, and thought if I had an older sister I would have wanted her to make an effort in my life, take time to be there for me because she wanted to. Do things for me and with me just because, she loved me. I made it a couple bites and started to say the words, "I want to apologize..." it was almost immediate that tears were falling into my chicken burrito. I have been so consumed with myself, that I haven't been able to tend to the needs of my own brother. Where have I been? Has selfishness sucked me in for that long? I felt sad, and hurt that I haven't been there for him over the years. I cried, and he held my hand. I told him that lately I cry about everything... and I don't even know why. He responded and said, "Emily, you are being broken, and your heart is softening". Words that I needed. Words that reminded me that being self-less was something I need more of. Something we all need more of.

When you are selfless you let go, and allow your heart to guide your life. You love more, love bigger. You are better. Because it doesn't matter if I loved that boy, landed that job, or was an older sister. What mattered was that I was changing, opening up to the world, welcoming self-less-ness into my breaking and softening heart.

San Diego Butterflies

Even though I was extremely tired, not to mention rushed... I found myself driving back down to San Diego for the 5th time in the last week. The previous 4 trips resulting in wonderful stories about men, money, random evening adventures, burnt hair, and unwanted reminders that I was pushing my boundary limits a little too far. I had been to the House Of Blues before, well once, and was politely asked to leave. So my expectation was quite skewed, but I was excited to spend some time with my cousin. We had arranged to go downtown to see one of our newest country favorites, and knowing that he was an amazing performer I was thrilled to know that my money was being well spent, and I was in good company.

For a while now I have been trying to figure out what the heck I am doing. Whether that means on a daily basis, like why am I taking the same road everyday home, or more importantly what am I doing with my life? Why do I need to know what I'm doing? And why do I feel like I need to answer that? No clue. But what I do know is that nothing, and I mean nothing... happens without reason. Slowly things have just been falling into place, or better yet should I say falling out of place which is making me realize how much I have been looking for that answer to my 6 million dollar question.

I was at a work event a couple weeks back in Las Vegas and I vividly remember a seminar that I was listening to about being 'transparent' and embracing 'authenticity' in your life. The man running the seminar addressed the audience asking people if they would exercise their transparency and announce to the room what they were passionate about, what they wanted to do, 'what they were doing with their lives'. A couple of brave souls stood up and jabbered off some ridiculous language like, "I want to cure AIDS", "I want to end world hunger", "I want to change our government"... and so on and so forth. I'm rolling my eyes at this point thinking there is no way these people honestly are being transparent, if they really were, would they have jumped at the opportunity to share? Or maybe they were, and I was just to afraid to admit that maybe my passion wasn't as BIG or as admired as theirs. One woman stood up and began trying to utter words, while the room stood in silence the man at the front asked for the audience to help her out with words of encouragement. A woman named Julie stood up, I knew she was Julie because after she said something I made a point to find out who she was and tell her how much of an impact her statement had on me. Julie looked over at the woman and said "What makes your heart flutter, what gives you butterflies?" The woman smiled up at all of us with tears streaming down her face and said, "Jesus" and right there we could all see that she was being completely and absolutely transparent. So honest and so passionate about her faith that she was frozen in her emotion. But it wasn't just the Jesus comment that did it for me. It was Julie. I have never really looked at my passion as something that was a physical feeling, it was more of an understanding that I was doing what I wanted to do.

The concert was incredible, every strum of the guitar, and stammer on the piano keys adding a little more sunshine into my falling out of place, darkened past couple weeks. The hands of devoted fans and lovers of music raised into the lights beams, and the glow of all the cellphones making a sea of the stage. Every falsetto ad lib, and dramatic pause was making me fall deeper and deeper into elation. The elation that was making my heart sing and flutter, and for a second I felt butterflies. THAT is when I realized my passion and my transparency is in my music. Because if I was really honest with myself, I would admit that all I want to do is write music that inspires people, moves people, heals people. My insides were screaming with desire. Desire to be up on that stage, and desire to be back at home in front of my piano writing like a crazy person because I've been collecting index cards, napkins, and old receipts with song lyrics on them for months. Desire to be in that person who could say, "I never thought this would happen to me".

It was THEN I realized Julie was right, sharing my passion didn't need to be this elaborate gesture or statement to impress upon people my responsibility to the world. It could just. be. music. It could just be those beautiful moments in the presence of sound. So why do I find myself not doing that every day, all. day. long? Am I afraid to admit it in front of people, would I have been able to stand in front of that audience in Vegas and say I want to be a songwriter? Part of me wishes I had told Julie how much the simplest sentence had brought clarity to me. And part of me wishes that after the concert I had told my cousin, someday I would be up on that stage. Glowing with passion, knowing exactly what I was doing with my life.

Mushroom Pillows

She and I have been around the bend once or twice. She and I have loved and lost and fought for this... made pacts, promises, prayers and cried for this. Because this was the only thing keeping us sane when we were lonely, when we were hurting or feeling broken. This was the foundation of everything we believed. It was the only way. It is the only way, and now I am traveling alone. My heart hurts for her. Because she and I were believers in miracles, believers in the unseen and impossible.

The years have brought with them distance and guarded words. Every day is slowly pushing you farther and farther from our safe place, our brought up little world of faith, passion, purpose, where are you? I can hear you crying out and I can feel the conviction building in your soul. Is that why you cried? Is that why you waited to tell me? Because maybe it was easier to leave me out of it all, knowing that I would feel broken. I have found that the more we try to force people into believing that they will 'come out' of the darkness and one day understand what it all means, the more we feel the darkness. Feel the pain of knowing that they are just, wandering. But aren't we all just wandering. So tonight, I promise to still love, and still fight for what I know is the way, the truth and the life, and I will wait until your wandering is over. Because she and I are believers, even if the world takes her for a little while.

The spins gave me clarity.

"I'm not going. I don't want to go, I don't need to go, I just want to stay here..." I repeated this for weeks, before embarking on my first cruise. I was going on a ship in the middle of the ocean without a phone, which if you know me is a BIG deal. The cruise was for work which sounds nice, but to me sounded miserable. The anxiety of preparing, packing, traveling, sailing... knowing that I would get sick was just not worth it for me. I had this worry hanging over my head, and this uneasiness lingering in my stomach. My first night on the ship I actually wrote down the sentence, "I have never felt so alone."


Being on a "work" trip, I had also prepared myself for a grip of speakers to come up and present their products and or services within their company. Oh, joy. Side note, you can feel the ship moving when you are on a cruise by the way. See, the negativity was just everywhere! The further the ship got, the largest my anxiety grew, and the more I started to notice that I had the spins.

I was sitting in the front row, the first day of the conference listening to one of the speakers and she had all of us stand up and repeat after her, 'I am willing to explore the possibility that I may not live up to my expectations, and that in order to accept myself, I need to accomplish everything. I am willing to explore the possibility that I may not be able to do everything that I say I am going to. BUT, I am willing to love and accept myself anyway, and I am willing to remember that I am enough, just as I am.' She paused, the room remained silent and I stood there, like I had just been slapped across the face. My heart had become heavy and I felt this ache crawling up, almost as if I was going to cry. You know that feeling when you try to hold back from crying and it bottles up right at the base of your throat, that was happening. Why? She barely said anything... Why was I so upset? And right then I realized, maybe I haven't been accepting myself. Maybe I haven't been ok with who I was. Maybe, I needed to be here.

All week, we were surrounded by some of the most successful business men and women from all parts of the world. One underlying message seemed to keep resurfacing throughout the week and that was about finding your passion, finding your purpose in life and not being afraid to reach for it. Have I been reaching? No, I've just been worrying about this and that and this and that, about nothing that really matters, consumed by things that most of the time never even happen. I have been afraid. Worried. Doubtful.

It is hard to pinpoint exactly which moment made the biggest impression on me, because after that day on my trip, everyday was completely life changing. People I have never met, sharing their stories, their struggles, their triumphs and tribulations. People who came from all over the world to make a difference. In Honduras, in Belize, in Cozumel, in me.

We spent one of the days in Honduras hanging out with children from a day care center, from orphanages, from the local shelter houses. It was so incredible to feel the love that was pumping into my life that day. Kids everywhere, so thankful, and so happy to have us there. Have I been reaching out? No, I've just been complaining about this and that, and being ungrateful. Ungrateful for my life, ungrateful for the opportunity to even be with such amazing people.

I was beyond touched and moved by this experience that all I could do was cry. I was so thankful that I went on this trip, that I was a part of this journey, part of the difference. God is so good. I have been blessed with this incredible life, and even though I may not feel like I am doing it all right, or accepting myself for falling short of my expectations... I know that there is something so much bigger going on inside of me. As we pulled up to the port the last morning of the cruise through the fog, I crossed off that sentence... and I said out loud,  I have never felt so loved.

Empathy

After hearing upsetting news from a friend today, I was paralyzed with fear, sadness, worry and heartbreak. It was so out of the ordinary for me, to feel what she felt, almost as if her pain was my pain. I was at work, staring at my keyboard completely unaware of the time, my schedule, the deadlines, when it came over me. I have always heard at church that speech about "Jesus tugging on your heart" or some rendition of that... but never really had a personal connection with those words, until today. It was such a foreign concept to me that I almost tried to avoid it or somehow find a way to think about something else, be anywhere else.

Then it happened, like a sea of warmth coming over my whole body, I let myself feel. I wept. I just completely let go and let that 'tugging' on my heart take over. I prayed and thanked God for my life, for her life, and all of the meaning that he has given it. I have been so ungrateful, full of selfishness, and have taken everything I have been given for granted. My heart was breaking for the struggle of a friend and my heart was breaking because I realized that I have lost touch with the greatest love of all.

Naturally, when anything spiritual arises in my life, I call mom. She seems to know what to say and how to handle things, and sure enough she did. She told me that she prays for me everyday, and that she is proud of me, and I cried. She knew exactly what I was feeling–empathy. I told her that I felt like my life hasn't been the greatest example of how to live it the "Christian" way. I told her it was the first time I felt like someone was put in my life for a reason. The first time I felt that 'tugging' on my heart, and I was overwhelmed with emotion. It was such a blessing, much needed. A refreshing feeling, consuming me... and at the end of the day all I could think about was how I want to live with a heart of compassion, a heart full of empathy, a heart like my mother's.

Sparks

Sometimes songs are worth listening to multiple times. Especially the ones that take you back, to that place where you danced, where you laughed, where you told yourself you could never be happier except for in that moment. And then some songs are so impressionable, that listening to them should be rare. Because these are the ones that gave your life a melody, a ebb and flow. Similar to pulling out old memorabilia and pictures from your past, this you do every so often to remind yourself where you came from, and or what you've been through.

Similarly, some love is worth fighting for multiple times. Especially the kind that takes you back, to that place where you first spoke, where you smiled, where you told yourself you never thought this would happen. And then some love is so impressionable, that having it was rare. Because these are the ones that gave your life melody, a ebb and flow.

Tonight's repeat is Sparks–Coldplay.

Trapped in Blessings.

My 95' Nissan Maxima, which all of my family and friends call the 'maxipad' is a joke. A couple years ago, the radio/cd screen stopped working, so I unfortunately have to guess which station and or song I am listening to all. the. time. While parked at an intersection one day with my cousin, the side review mirror just fell off, popped right off onto the ground and I couldn't even get out to pick it up because I was laughing so hard. I also remember driving through a jack in the box one night with some friends, and my driver side window just stopped rolling down, needless to say we ordered from the back seat. A couple of times my little trooper has just completely crapped out on me. "Oh, hey car... sure go ahead and stop working on me, I didn't need to go anywhere anyways." I vividly remember almost starting on fire at a red light one time too. The gentleman next to me rolled down his window yelling "You're car is smoking", my response, "Yeah, I know, it does that." The windows no longer roll down, and the music will only play once I hit 70mph, which rarely happens considering my commute is about 12 mintues on a main road. Every time I have to go anywhere, I dread taking this thing. I'd almost rather ride a bicycle (seriously considering it).

Yesterday I had to go run some errands. I made it about .2 miles before my back was sweating. I was hitting every. single. stoplight. and when your only source of airflow is the sunroof you start to lose your mind. I was trapped, in 95 degree heat with a smoking car, awesome. I was so mad, I seriously contemplated running myself off the road just so I could get out! It wasn't until I saw a young woman wearing no shoes, carrying pretty much everything she owned, walking along the stopped traffic. Then it hit me. I have a car! I am such a complainer, and I should be thankful that 330,000 miles later my maxipad is still holding up! It was then I made a decision. I could continue to be mad, or I could change my attitude. Getting mad doesn't help anything, doesn't change anything, and wasn't going to do anything but bring me down. So, instead I was thankful, and smiled because having a car in THIS condition, that stills runs... is rare.