It is going to be motorcycles (motorbikes as they are mostly called round these parts).

Traffic related accidents are, in fact, the most common cause of injury and death for American travelers in foreign countries. Now, I am normally not a coordinated person. I’m covered with bruises most of the time from running in to walls/doors/other people. This bodes badly for me.

There is a story of my mother bringing me to the doctor for a routine kid thing and him being concerned that I was covered in bruises (thank you for the concern Doc!). As he was asking my Mom about her parenting skills and stress-levels I began running around his office like the curious and precocious child I was (am). Halfway through the interrogation I apparently took a head-long run at his roll-top desk and tried to slide underneath it. I didn’t quite make it and essentially bounced myself hard onto my back on the floor of his office. Waiting for the hysterical screams to emerge, instead he saw me jump back up, shake off a bit, and then start running around again.

He immediately quit questioning my mother.

In Bali, and apparently most of Asia, people drive like crazy people. There are not really any traffic rules, other than drive on the opposite side of the road from the US (driver’s seats in cars are on the right, which doesn’t really help you with sides of the road when you are on a motorbike), so it is like every human for themselves. I’ve experienced this. Crossing the street is like live-action Frogger.

Needless to say, since I haven’t been on a bike (motorized or pedal) for years, I’ve been a bit hesitant to give it a go. This is, of course, silly, and I will most likely NOT get dead from a motorbike accident. I’ll just get some killer road rash and a bit banged up.

Guys digs scars like chicks, right?

In the meantime, I have had my kind housemates benevolence and pity to help get around Seminyak and Kuta. This has caused two profound insights for me.

• I need to do way more planks, boats and core strengthening exercises because riding on the back of a motorbike going 30 KPH is all core, baby!
• I am totally at the mercy of everyone around me and barely in control of anything

The second insight came as I donned Dan’s helmet to head out and meet friends for dinner in Kuta. “Whatever happens, don’t react to anything that you see coming. If you think we are gonna hit the truck coming at us and jump or shift then we will go down” was the first and best piece of motorbike passenger safety I’ve gotten so far.

The thing with riding on the back of bikes with boys (and girls though I have no point of reference for that as of yet) is that anything you do affects both people on the motorbike. Except you don’t have any control of the bike, so if you do something motivated by your fear instinct, then you could force the bike onto the ground in a spin out. How is the driver supposed to be able to account for the things that you do when you are on the back ?

I do not do well with not having control over my situations.

I’m learning quickly to let go of it though. It is the only way to keep everyone safe.

This involves a serious level of trust in people I met just two weeks ago. I’ve gone flying over potholes, nudged through traffic on the highway, stared at an oncoming truck grill, and with all of it barely blinked an eye.

If you are a smart person then you make sure that you don’t get on anyone’s bike that you wouldn’t trust your life with. Honestly, that is exactly what you are doing when you climb on and grasp onto those handles.

Again, not a situation I’ve done well with in the past.

It’s funny the things you realize when you are forced to learn the lessons. Very quickly. In a life or limb sort of way.

photo credit: 27147 via photopin cc

When I left Detroit, Michigan in the US it was the afternoon of Monday, January 9th 2012. January 9th 2012, as observed by 99.99% of humanity was a normal day, just like any other day. There is nothing out-of-the-ordinary about January 9th, or January 10th for that matter. Social constructs on the rising and setting of the sun and Earth’s revolution that help us delineate our time into more manageable and understandable bite-sized pieces.

I boarded my plane and settled in to my Economy Class seat on a Delta 767 bound for Narita International Airport in Tokyo, Japan. Curling up with my Kindle, Spotify and noise cancelling ear buds I prepared for my 13+ hour flight across oceans and continents.

Happily devouring a few books, some pretty tasty in flight meals, and eventually donning my sleep mask and iPod Sleep Machine app to sleep for a few hours.

Note : If you have an iPhone or iPod go download the Sleep Machine app right now. A combination of ambient and white noises and complete with a timer and gentle alarm sound to wake you up, paired with noise cancelling ear buds it is my MUST HAVE for disruptive sleep spaces. Try out the free Lite version to see what I mean and then spring for the $1.99 app.

When I woke up and stretched in my seat, I glanced around and realized I had missed Delta’s in-flight breakfast. I glanced at my watch to see what time it was and was monumentally confused. Perhaps maybe a little groggy after my too-restful airplane nap of about 6 hours.

My watch said it was 2:30 PM on Tuesday, January 10th. But the flight crew was serving breakfast?

Then I remembered. I had set all my time pieces to Tokyo time when I boarded the plane so that I would I would acclimate to the new zone shift faster. A pretty standard pro-travel tip (though a good one to use nonetheless).

I was then hit with a pang of a little sadness.

That meant that I had lost 10 hours from my life.

The International Date Line, which runs (kind of) along the 180 Latitude line in the middle of the Pacific Ocean separates midnight from midnight, and January 9th from January 10th in my case. Between reading Price and Prejudice (for the 9 zillionth time) and settling in for my nap, an ominous cloud swept through our plane as it swiftly flew through much less devious white puffy clouds bound for the West.

Except now it was bound for the East.

The ominous cloud swept through and sucked 10 hours from each of our helpless bodies, strapped in to seat belts and squished into a cargo space 30,000 feet in the sky. It was as if I had stumbled in to some 1960′s science fiction movie about the horrors of flight in the future or at least a very twisted episode of The Twilight Zone.

People keep telling me “Oh don’t worry, you’ll get those 10 hours when you fly back home.”

Except the thing is you don’t get time back.

Once you have lost time, it is gone. It’s like your virginity. You don’t just get that back by moving to a new zip code.

Time is a concept, a measurement that we impose with a stated definition and an arbitrary metric based on our observations about things like stars and moons.

Essentially, someone could make up an entirely new time metric based on a box of Lucky Charms marshmallows if they really wanted.

Even knowing this, the pang still lingered in my mind.

I wondered where I was exactly and what I was doing when the ominous cloud of Lost Time hit me. Was I reading? Was I writing in my new grid-lined notebook? Was I eating a delicious but completely not-good-for-you Oreo cookie brownie? Was I sleeping? Was I playing Angry Birds?

It is so easy to lose time. To fall down the rabbit hole of Reddit or zone out watching a television program you barely care about. My first week here I lost a ridiculous amount of time sleeping practically 15 hours every day (split up into a few naps and some willed unconsciousness while battling through a stomach bug).

I’ve only been swimming in our gorgeous pool once. I’m just now going exploring beyond the 2 streets I’m already intimately acquainted with. I’ve barely finished a book or gotten any “for fun” writing done. I haven’t even attempted to crack the cloud files for my upcoming projects.

Taking it easy and finding time to goof off or relax are vital in our lives. That is one of the few universal truths in life. (Yes, I’ll say it, there are a few universal truths) I cannot, in the history of my existence, think of any one person who does not take at least five minutes a day to not be doing anything “productive”.

That being said, lost time can over-take us, with its ominous cloud nature. Before we know it, we are caught in a fog wondering why we are mindlessly munching on apple-smoked sausage links and sipping Tropicana at 2:30 in the afternoon.

All we can do at that point, once we have lost time, is take a deep breath and set forth to be more careful and intentional with our time.  We’ll slip up occasionally. This usually manifests itself as a browser opened to Facebook or Twitter. But time is something to be cherished, we only get so much of it.

My time was taken from me. Lost somewhere over the Pacific Ocean.

Where did you lose yours?

The thing, that I continue trying to impart but apparently fail miserably at, is that I am no different than anyone reading this blog right now thinking “I wish.”

I have been there. Reading the blog posts of globe-trotting million-dollar content production personal development life coaches and professional authors, drifting off into a day-dreaming state of imagination and longing.

Then, with a heavy heart and heaving sigh I’ve clicked the “X” in the upper-right hand corner of the browser to return to whatever task or mundane assignment I had to work on.

People like me don’t do things like that.

Those people were extraordinary. In the grandest sense of the word. They lived extraordinary lives in exotic locations (or just anywhere that they wanted). They created extraordinary companies and products. They wrote extraordinarily beautiful pieces of motivation and prose that made my hack conversation pieces seem like a 3rd grader’s composition homework.

They are extraordinary people. I am, in general (and especially in 2011), a hot mess.

Extraordinary people have extraordinary stories. Hot messes barely make it out of bed in the morning.

Everyone has a back story

Notably, some are exciting and thrilling, the stuff of an action-adventure blockbuster with stolen cars and burning houses.

Others glisten with the sparkling awe of superstar career trajectories and plush lifetime savings accounts.

Some may try to pass themselves off as a hot mess, but in reality they have those Little Tramp qualities that make them the scrappy underdogs that you can’t help but route for.

Others explore the world and travel to lands of adventure and wonder, all by the time they are 18 years old.

They have lives that lend themselves to an amazing story line. They have lives that were meant to be extraordinary.

What are we supposed to do, however, if we are “cursed” to have a very average back story. To be ordinary people, in love with extraordinary lives?

You Don’t Have To Be Extraordinary To Do Out-Of-The-Ordinary Things

I’m not going to lie to you. It helps.

Being extraordinary compels people to follow your story. To be engaged and route for your character. Will you overcome foes? Will you reach your dreams?

I am an extreme case-study in the average:

• I was raised by two parents who are still married after 35+ years
• I have one sibling (younger)
• I graduated high school and went to a state university
• I had never lived anywhere outside of the state I was born in
• I worked at an office job for nearly ten years
• I had never traveled outside the United States (I didn’t even own a passport)
• I lived modestly but I wasn’t throwing major rolls of cash in the bank
• I was sweet, kind, friendly, and dare I say nice.
• I have a kind of naive sense of wonderment and awe at the world around me

If my back story were the setting for a novel or movie, I’d be the human equivalent of Victorian literature in which they take 20 pages to describe the ominous fog and waving tall grass of the moors (see, George Eliot, I just whipped that out in less than 20 words!). A very bland bunching of average tales and average adventure.

I fell into the mindset, as so often happens when you are desperately searching for anyone or anything to give your life meaning rather than discovering it for yourself, that I needed to be one of those people to live those lives.

That I couldn’t even begin to write my own amazing story until I had enough of an introduction to get started.

No one would want to hear about or read about or talk about or care about some small-town girl from Maine who was making ripples not waves.

The common myth is that you need to be extraordinary to do extraordinary things.

That isn’t the case.

You have to do out-of-the-ordinary things to be extraordinary

You can still make shit happen. You have the power to be the author of your own story. To be the person sitting behind the laptop/typewriter/Moleskine feverishly creating the twists and turns of a life you choose to live.

This isn’t a chicken-and-the-egg situation here, kids. Extraordinary people may SEEM extraordinary, but most all of them still have to put on their pants one leg at a time (except for bona fide actual ninjas, and you just shouldn’t mess with those guys anyways!)

They had to DO extraordinary things to make themselves extraordinary. It wasn’t bestowed on them. The opportunity to do extraordinary things didn’t come because they were extraordinary.

It came because they did something.

If you had asked ANYONE on October 10th,2011 if they thought I would pack up my entire life and move to the other side of the planet to live with a bunch of people I don’t know while working on their start-up business the answer would have been a resounding guffawing deep-belly laugh.

People like me don’t do things like that.

And that right there is the point. That’s the difference.

Extraordinary people see the things that people like them don’t do, and then they set out to do them anyways.

The good news is you can get started today, this very moment, this VERY SECOND. Even if you are ordinary.

Sitting there dreaming and planning is not doing you any good.

It isn’t doing the world any good. We are capable of so many wonderful things as a human race. You don’t need to get your first passport and jump on a plane to the other side of the planet. But you do need to do something that shakes up a life you are unhappy with.

You don’t have to be extraordinary to do out-of-the-ordinary things.

But you are going to have to do out-of-the-ordinary things if you want to be extraordinary.

photo credit: LadyGuinevere! via photopin cc
 

When I took the TMBA gig and planned out my first travel adventure destination to be Bali, I finally got around (at the age of 31) to getting a passport. I hadn’t travelled internationally, except by car to Canada, and honestly a Mainer in Canada is like a New Jerseyian (Jerseyite?) in New York in terms of logistics.

Fortunately I’ve done a fair amount of domestic travel and flights (though my first of those was not until I was 25) so I’m not totally lost in the mechanics of travel.

International travel, that’s a whole different story.

Yet, somehow it isn’t.

While I soared through the air with the greatest of ease, I tried to jot down in my handy dandy travel notebook a few impressions and observations of my first international travel experience.

I step out of my shell in unfamiliar situations – Put me in a room where I have a bunch of acquaintances and I will find my closest friends and take up residence at the nearest corner booth. Put me in a security checkpoint line and I will find myself explaining to someone how to connect through Narita International like I do this weekly. I think that this will make for amazing stories of people I meet along the way and possibly make me a likely mark for drug mulery.

Being nice gets you places in every place – I committed the ultimate rookie travel mistake. It wasn’t even a rookie INTERNATIONAL travel mistake. It was a general rookie travel mistake.

Chatting up my new friend in line in security I threw my laptop in one bin and my track jacket, silver watch, iPod/Kindle pack, and clear plastic liquids bag in another. After tossing my bags on the conveyor, verifying my passport and boarding info and stepping through the detector an angry agent shouted something in Japanese at the woman behind the belt. “Is this your bag” she asked. This is the last thing you want to be asked in a security checkpoint.

Long story short (but not nearly as exciting (if you want the exciting but longer accounts of stories like this, make sure to sign-up for my Writing on the Webb inbox tales)) there was an issue with a water bottle. Chatting up the agent, being patient and kind, and admitting I made an idiot mistake cleared me through security without further incident.

On that note…

Don’t be an idiot – Sure, coming straight off a plane through the jet-plank-hallway thing to security should pretty clearly imply I haven’t had the opportunity to do anything devious. But rules are rules, even if they are dumb rules. Travel to places that they can deport (or extradite or whatever the heck it is) your ass, trying to adhere to their customs and guidelines tends to yield the least pain and suffering for all parties.

Sure, it took me nearly 45 minutes to stumble through immigration and customs in Singapore. But at least I didn’t get the “Sir, you are going to have to come with us” that the screaming yelling Canadian guy got (uh oh, am I gonna have to rethink my “I’m a Canadian, don’t be feisty with me” confrontation game plan?!)

Flying overhead at 30K feet, the world is pretty much all the same – Sure, there are some structural and aesthetic differences. Off the Northern West Coast the Pacific Ocean is a huge sheet of ice, in Tokyo there are fire rigs burning off something in the ports, flying in to Singapore the inter-island roads and highways are lit up like a PacMan path. Yet even with these differences, there are striking similarities like sports stadiums in every major city and agricultural patches of parks and fields.

Yet it is so very different – If Maine isn’t the whitest state in the United States it has got to be in the top 3. If that is the case in Maine it is the OPPOSITE here. If I’ve encountered more than 20 obviously Caucasian people I’d say I was lying.

Suddenly it is like that four-square Sesame Street game, One of These Things is Not Like The Others. To me, everything else is different. But to everyone else the only thing different is me.

Internet service is a luxury for most places not a staple – Honestly, I am Save Drafting this post every 4th sentence. *save* After I wrote the draft in Live Writer. And continued it on my iPod after my computer died. The free wireless here at Changi is shotty at best, though it is free which is bounds beyond Narita and Detroit. My 13 hour flight to Tokyo and my 6 hour flight to Singapore definitely didn’t have wireless either. I had to find those random things to do that DIDN’T involve a connection. Like riding the walkway team back and forth twice in the Detroit airport tunnel. And read. Books. On my Kindle.

Airplane food and service aren’t the devil – I was warned all around “Ugh, airplane food is terrible” and that I would be constantly waiting and frustrated. Either I had the travel trip that was the exception to this rule or I have way lower expectations than most people. Airplane food is not a five-course meal, so I was near floored when I received 3 hot meals and a lunch sandwich from Detroit to Singapore. And the worst behaved flight crew? PWM to Detroit. Stateside. Granted, it was 8 AM, I can be cranky that time of day too.

International travel is simply awesome – This is the concept that leaves me at a loss for words. I keep playing the Louis CK rant on Conan over and over in my head instead, he does a much better job of grasping the reality of the situation.

…did you fly through the air? Incredibly? Like a bird? Did you partake in the miracle of human flight? YOU’RE FLYING. It’s amazing! Everybody on every plane should just constantly be going “OH MY GOD! WOW!” You’re flying. You’re sitting in a chair…in. the. sky.

Frankly I am rather humbled at the situation. Seriously humbled.

40 hours ago I was sitting in my parents living room packing my backpack and saying goodbyes. Now I am sitting in an airport that has a POOL ON THE ROOF on the other side of the planet. Can you even stop to imagine for just a moment how awesome that is.

Not even awesome like “Totally awesome, man” but awesome like AWE-SOME…it should FILL YOU WITH AWE each and every time you get on an airplane.

Even more when it is an international flight.

I love being so humbled and awed by these experiences – Sure, I worry sometimes that my enthusiasm and excitement for this trip wears on the nerves of cultured and experienced international travelers. My email to Dan, Ian & David upon preparing to leave included the subject line: OH MY GOD MY PLANE TAKES OFF IN 4 HOURS!!! (Yes, with that many exclamation marks)

I hope that I never lose this sense of wonder at the novelty and strange comfort of international travel. I know it could (probably will) eventually happen.

But I hope it isn’t for a really really REALLY long time.

If you want more posts like these, with journal-like observations and stories of my travel adventures, you want to make sure to sign-up for my free email newsletter. With weekly tales of shenaniganry and observations on not-so-average life, you will feel like you are coming along on the journey in my backpack’s side pocket. Look forward to seeing you in email!

Before you read any further DO THIS EXERCISE

1. Grab a piece of scrap paper and a pen/pencil.
2. Look through the word search
3. Write down the FIRST four words that you see in the sea of letters

Don’t analyze, don’t question, don’t look for particular words. Just write down the first four words.

Didja do that?

It’ll be important to “get” the rest of this post!

I offered up this graphic and call on my Tumblr and Twitter earlier this week.

The first four words you see describe you.

This reality both affirmed and terrified people.

Some were comfortable and, dare I say, happy with their word choices.

Others were torn. Angsty. Unhappy. A number asked me if they could change their words. If they saw one word but it was actually part of another did they “Do it wrong?”

It is a funny thing about exercises like this. The snap reaction of decision without thought and analysis reveal the purest sense of our present mindset. This includes whether we are sleep deprived, just got good/bad news,

My words were: Happy, Patient, Peaceful, Witty.

My immediate comment was how wrong it was for me to see patient, because I am possibly one of the most impatient people I’ve ever known. I joked that it must be patient in the medical sense of the word cause I had a cold.

Yet my friend Jodi pointed out to me that patient makes perfect sense for me. I am extremely aware of the idea of patience, and constantly working to exercise it in my life since it is against my nature. I probably pick out moments that I need to be patient in more than others, because of this awareness of my short-coming.

I don’t think that the words are necessarily an exact manifestation of who you are.

There is no right or wrong way to do this exercise. Nor is there any right or wrong answer.

But the results, if you take some time to think about them (with a very open mind) can certainly tell you a lot about where you are in life. Right now. In this exact and present moment.

What were your words? And what do you think of them?

Photo Credit – http://leetakeuchi.com/

In fact, along with Janet, I plan on making 2012 my bitch.

2011 was a year that took a toll. I feel like other than the one weekend retreat I took at the beginning of the year, there was nary a moment in the past 365 that I was not hustlin’.

Living your life very intentionally, it can be exhausting.

In fact, as I noted to someone recently, I spent more time crying in 2011 than I have collectively  in my entire existence (I hate crying!). Who wants to be that person? Honestly.

I’m not someone who likes to run away from hard work. I’m more like one of those people always working in some way because I actually like my work and don’t mind working hard at it.

I’ve gotten some pretty great experiences out of an intentional life.

2012, with all its promise of exciting adventures and new experiences and finally getting my feet under me, deserves to be something more.

2012 will be my Year of Fun

Does that mean I’m just going to screw around for 12 months?

Definitely not!

Slacking off for any extended amount of time might result in immediate fun, but long-term pain and suffering (also known as anti-fun).

Instead, I’m striving to find the fun in the things I focused so intentionally on in 2011. Thanks to the wonderful Nicole is Better I am starting that process with the fabulously fun little icon image at the top of this post (you can download your easily customizable very own personal template here). Mine is a little modified (you can see my full-sized version here) as I wanted fewer buckets for more stream-lined concentration and potential-for-fun-having.

Looking over my 2011 goals (and their flaming crash-and-burn finale) I instead opted to go for a bit simpler model, a basic smushing of my 2011 and 2010 systems.

What does my 2012 Year of Fun entail?

Experiences

This is my most important “fun” bucket in 2012. I want to live life with amazing experiences, things that I savor and remember and can write about and share. That’s all life is really, a string of experiences loosely connected to form a strand from birth-to-death.

Writing

After writing about Ebenezer Scrooge and Social Media for Forbes (my favorite piece I’ve written for anything anywhere in a LONG while, seriously go read it sometime!), I re-ignited my passion for creative writing. It is where I have the most fun. A wise man recently smacked me (gently) in the face with a harsh realization…being a freelancer is not necessarily a sustainable business model. Especially starting out. Writing the kind of writing I want to write (?!) will have it’s OWN bucket, separate from my “I-like-to-eat-occasionally-and-have-money-for-living-expenses” (aka Work) bucket.

Relationships

This will always be a bucket for me, because the people in my life ARE fun and I have fun building and nourishing and relishing my relationships (both platonic and romantic). It is vital for me to always make it a focus, to make new friends but keep the old. (That and how to whore cookies like it’s my job are my greatest lessons learned from Girl Scouts)

Wellness

A continued quest, and probably one of my biggest fears/apprehensions traveling. I’m convinced getting out of some very un-healthy routines that I’ve fallen into here in the land of comfort and quick access to cheese and chocolate and red wine or bourbon will be a brilliant move for me. I want to get to a place in this new year that I feel well. A place where I am happy (physically, mentally, emotionally) in my own body and space.

Work

Work can (and should!) be fun. Plain and simple. No, you don’t have to be one of those people who lives and breathes to do what you do every moment of the day (though how amazing does that sound?!) but you should be doing work that makes you happy that you can enjoy and thrive at and grow in. It should also not demolish you to a sobbing heap of stress and hysteria. I have some big projects and products that I will ship and pitch in 2012, along with the help of some amazing partners and collaborators. It’s time to start having fun with my intentional work.

Giving Back

I was selfish in 2011. Part of me needed to be, because I barely had enough to sustain myself and that didn’t leave much to be handed out to others. I didn’t like being that person. Giving back, helping others, investing in dreams – these are things that make me grin from ear-to-ear. It is at least 40% of the reason I so desperately wanted the gig with TMBA. Seeing someone succeed and knowing you were a part of it?

Now THAT is frickin’ fun.

Photo Credit – Nicole Antoinette (w/some modification by me)

I get the general concept and idea behind the whole “No Regrets” thing. Regrets live in our past. People who live in the past with their regrets are neglecting their present and future. We have control over our present and future situations, we have none over what has been. That’s where the “live life with no regrets” mantra comes from.

Why dwell on things that have already happened? If there’s nothing we can do about something that happened in the past then why attach ourselves to it? Do you need some voodoo monkey to whap you in the back of the skull to understand that?

Ah, yes.

That whole “You can’t know where you’re going ‘til you know when you’ve been.”

Think about it. You are lost, in the middle of no where. Let’s pretend that somehow every GPS/electronic device that could possibly help you is sucked into some dead signal vortex. All you have is an atlas map (Hey, we’re pretending here! Pretend you have a map in your car!) to get you out of this Twilight Zone scene.

• You can’t just look at your future destination point and say “We need to be here. Let’s go!”
• You have no idea where you presently are, so that “I Am Here” dot is useless.
• You have to re-trace your journey from the beginning to find out where your dot is. Then you have to figure out how to right whatever went wrong to get you to where you want to be.

Oh, snap!

We all have regrets.

Things that, if given the opportunity, we might have done differently. Right turns that should have been lefts and traveling for miles down deserted roads when we should have turned around to a place of the familiar and set out again.

That isn’t to say the adventures you have taking the road less traveled are not amazing experiences. For some, a life of “wrong decisions” is the right decision. Funny thing about people. With everyone being so different, it is damn near impossible to make everyone the same (though gosh, do we try awfully hard!)

Regrets are not something to be ashamed of until you relegate them to a place of embarrassment or make them obsolete. It is not the regrets that we need to fear and extricate from our lives. It is the way that we handle them and give them gravity in our self-worth and being.

We would not be who we are in this very moment without the pasts that brought us here.

That means taking the good and the bad parts. It is impossible to love life in slices. As we come to the end of the year, with all of our round-ups and “Best Of’s” and annual reviews, we need to take the time to analyze and savor our regrets from 2011.

What did you really really royally screw up? I’m talking epic failure?

So, you fucked something up?

Congratulations! Join the legions of people I like to call “Humanity”.

I won’t lie to you. Regrets hurt. They slice through us, leaving our insides exposed and our outsides bleeding. There are some that will make you wish you could die, and others that just irritate you.

Yet across the planet, people are failing at things daily. Every minute. EVERY SECOND. Failure and missteps and regrets – they make people stronger. They make us appreciate success more.

Regrets form our present and shape our future.

You know what a life of no regrets REALLY means? It means you never took enough of a chance or a risk to fail at something.

So say things that ruffle feathers. Set out on journeys and adventures that seem absolutely foolish. Stay with the people you love when they need you the most. Bake delicious foods and get them in your mouth. Eat butter. Play with your kids instead of working. Work hard to provide for your family.

Life a life that takes risks that leave you with regret. Then take that regret, learn from it, and turn it into something that will create a better future. Learn from the voodoo monkey!

If you live a life without regret, then you are most likely leading a horribly sad and ignorant existence.

Honestly. Who wants to start 2012 with a life that feels like that?

Photo Credit: Me. This Summer. When I Tried To Fix A Fan and Instead Got My Hair Sucked Thru The Back And Cut Off. 

Me & Leo post-headshots at Melissa Mullen's studio

2011 was my Year of Intention.

I had a super long list of goals and resolutions that seemed like awesome ideas at the time. By November I decided that flexibility was more important than checking things off a list. Not checking things off a list hurt my soul a little bit, but I know that it was the right way to go.

Whether that was epic success or epic failure, I spent 2011 living in a world of Go Big or Go Home.

If a Year of Intention means anything, it means Don’t Do Anything Half-Assed.

With all the roller coasters peaks and valleys, looking back there were 5 definitive moments that MADE the year 2011 for me.

• The Moment: Just after the start of the year, I spent a weekend holed away at a secluded post office bungalow in Owls Head, Maine. As the stress of freelancing and making ends meet was really beginning to catch up with me, I needed to get away from it all. My brilliant friend Rob knew that and forced me to come stay at his vacation get-a-way spot even though I whined at him that I had too much work to do. I turned off the data connection on my phone, left my laptop at home, brought a book and a duffle bag and $100 to spend.

Lesson Learned: Everyone needs to get away sometimes. Turn off everything, relax and reflect, and eat delicious food with wonderful friends.

Going Forward: Every year I will plan a personal retreat where I escape the world for a weekend. A necessary recharging of the mind, body & soul

• The Moment: On February 5th I got an email from a woman named Caroline Howard.

The email started:

Dear Elisa: I’m a fan of your work on Ophelia’s Webb and follow you on Twitter from my personal account as well as my channel on Forbes.com, ForbesWoman…I am asking you to consider blogging on Forbes.com. Need I add: I truly believe your voice and content–particularly your posts under the “Young Professionals” and “Life Lessons” categories–would resonate well with our audience.

I proceeded in Googling the bejeezus out of her because I did not for one second believe that she was legit. I figured my next correspondence would be asking for a banking account number so she could start wiring money from an obscure African prince’s account. Why would someone at Forbes want someone like me to write for them?

She was legit and then some. Giving me my own blog on ForbesWoman (Shattering Glass), my first post hit on February 17th.

Lesson Learned: You may never know who sees your talent and wants to give you an opportunity. Also, never under-estimate yourself.

Going Forward: I write for mother-effing Forbes.com! When I get anxious or worried that I might not be good enough or that it is foolish to pursue a writing career, I repeat that exact phrase in my head again and again until I grin from ear to ear.

• The Moment: I showed up at my parents’ house half an hour from my apartment, looked at my Mom standing in the kitchen and my Dad as he walked out from the living room, and collapsed in a ball at his feet hysterically sobbing because I had officially hit my “fail point”. The threshold in a entrepreneurial model when you realize that you must adjust or quit, because what you are doing isn’t going to work. The next 72 hours is a complete blur, I felt like I was floating above my body watching my life fall apart.

Lesson Learned: Blog comments and Twitter sharing may reinforce a sense of community and help you contribute to a greater good, but just because people like your site it doesn’t mean that you have a sustainable business model. (Ouch! This one hurt. A LOT!) Eventually you can’t provide any good content because your life is consumed in your failing business.

Going Forward: Maintain separate lines of incoming revenue not dependent on blog content, popularity and recognition. Also, know that bill collectors really enjoy getting paid and do not enjoy being ignored.

• The Moment: Six years ago I manipulated someone into breaking up with me rather than having to admit my feelings. Against what should have been my better judgment I started seeing him again last winter. In June, after one of those special awkward heart-jumps-into-your-throat-because-feeling-feelings-is-terrifying flashes, I faced a similar decision. Admit my feelings or push him away. I took a deep breath, exhaled and shared. I was met with immediate rejection. (Ouch. Again. This one probably  hurt more.)

Lesson Learned: After my theories were confirmed and I had solid evidence that vulnerability would break your heart, my most basic instinct told me to go back to my walled up/closed off ways. I did not.

Going Forward: Even though it might hurt, rarely is a great reward acquired without a great risk.

• The Moment: After spending nearly two weeks logging onto a website daily (sometimes thrice daily) to read a job posting for a position that would be absolutely ridiculous for me to pursue, I committed to applying about 20 hours before the deadline. I had decided to apply the first time I read the TMBA 9th Internship. But I was afraid that I wouldn’t be good enough for them or that I wouldn’t be able to make it happen or that I wouldn’t be able to make it happen in time.

Those crazy bastards hired me even though I felt like I had no business even throwing my name in the ring! Hell, they created a position and gave me even more responsibility cause they felt like I could handle it and would add to their brand because of it.

Lesson Learned: Lessons are already being learned! Believing in my abilities, taking a risk, escaping my current stagnant situation and solid monetary decisions that reinforce my writing career. You cannot know where you are going until you recognize where you have been.

Going Forward: Going forward? I leave for Bali in less than 2 weeks! It is ALL forward from here, baby! 

Photo Credit: Melissa Mullen Photography (snapped quickly w/an iPhone in the moment)

Speaking of Bali, I want to thank the lovely people who have chipped in some money to that little piggy bank on my sidebar. Reinforcing that what I do here brings some value to you means so much, and I look forward to continuing to do that. Thank you to: Jenny Blake (Life After College), Jeffrey Trull (Money Spruce), Melissa Mullen (Melissa Mullen Photography), Dianne Mullen, Dave Ursillo (DaveUrsillo.com), Julie Clow, Paul & Fran Doucette, Darcy & Mike Gagnon, Amy Doucette & Tim Gagnon, and Sophia Bera. 

Having grown up watching classic movies year round with my Dad, my preferred genre of holiday movie is the old stop-motion films like Santa Claus is Coming to Town and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. My favorite, however, is The Year Without A Santa Claus. Not due to the story or music or creative hard work involved in the process.

No, I love the Miser Brothers.

Since I first experienced those crazy guys bursting onto the screen as a child, I’ve had a little mini-bit of an obsession with them. At the age of 31, my ears will perk up and I will do a little bouncing in my seat singing along dance.

As I was watching it (for the…ahem…third time already) this year, I was especially taken with the interaction between these two brothers. Heat Miser is a hot-head who yells and screams and gets worked up about everything. When Mrs. Claus makes her “Let is snow in Southtown on Christmas” request, his eyes go all wonky and he yells and screams.

Yet Snow Miser, he’s just a cool dude. Not icy distant and unfeeling as is so often associated with cold characters, instead he is laid back and seems genuinely happy with life. He chuckles at the request and basically says “Go on, try to see if you can get it.” Then shrugs his shoulders and smiles. (Yes, he does throw a bit of a tantrum when Heat Miser wants to make it sunny in the North Pole for a day a year, but I personally believe that was Snow Miser’s attempt to stop global warming and the melting of the ice caps. What? Movies have meanings!)

Even looking at their two pictures. Heat Miser has a perma-snarl and Snow Miser has a perma-grin.

I strive to live a life that is more laid back and “just happy” myself. I don’t need a lot of things, not because I am making esoteric and condescending arguments about the value and worth of personal effects, but because it is too easy to get caught up in them. I don’t like to get overly invested in dramatic emotional affairs, because they leave you exhausted and generally without a resolution.

This is Heat Miser’s greatest fault.

And it is where Snow Miser will always have a competitive life advantage.

Getting angry about situations beyond your control does nothing but raise your stress level. Often in resolution, the compromise can be reached regardless of whether you have to be a horrid person to make it happen.

You do not need to be a jerk to be remembered and valued.

I feel bad for people who are so embroiled in their Heat Miser-ness that they often fail to see the benefits to their situation. Spending so much time being flustered about things, you miss the important things that are plainly there for you to see.

You miss out on the beautiful cool parts of life when you are so focused on the hottest triggers instead.

Committing to a life-changing decision doesn’t immediately succeed the moment you start adapting your life. In fact, like any loss or the cultivation of a relationship, there are stages that most everyone experiences from the moment the idea passes into your mind to the moment that you realize everything is going to be okay.

Researching the variations on Kubler’s Five Stages of Grief (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance) I saw themes that recurred and concepts that were universal. So I made a list.

The Five Stages of a Life-Changing Decision

Dreaming

You sit in your cubicle (or living room…or beachside cabana…or car in a rainy parking lot) and let your mind wander. To a place where your imagination can run wild and you can wake each morning and fall asleep each night with a grin stapled to your face. You could be that happy. You would no longer feel unfulfilled. Like something is missing.

If only you could make it happen.

Maybe you start a little side hustle. Maybe you set up a sellers account on eBay. Maybe you begin pricing  flights back home. Maybe you write your first blog post on your brand spankin’ new brand new blog website. Your dreams seem miles away, but each day they float a tiny bit closer to your grasp.

Action

It’s the big day!! You pulled the trigger and go for it!! Yay for you!! Lots of exclamation points!!

Soak it all in. This is what you’ve been planning and dreaming and waiting for. You deserve it. Savor every congratulations wish and gift from the Universe (and/or estranged rich family members wanting to help you out). #boom

Disenchantment

The honeymoon is over and it is the day after Christmas. You have played out the initial wonder at your new toy and you are feeling the letdown. This is also the time when you go a little numb to the process. You could care whether it happens or not. You are tumbling down the backside of the peak you just experience to a dark shaded valley.

Denial

Seth Godin refers to it as The Dip. Jenny Blake calls it the Fire Pit of Failure/Death. The big life-changing decision winds have been let out of your sails and you are sitting in a boat on a still lake, alone in your silent thoughts. The voices start to creep in. You may have taken the plunge, but you’ll never come up for air. There is no way you can pull this off. There is no way this is really going to happen.

Acceptance

Also known as The Epiphany. You realize that you have worked hard for this, planned, dreamed, implemented, waded through the muck and survived the life-changing decision. Gasping and panting, you are finally comfortable in your new reality.

Paulo Coelho wrote to Santiago the Shepherd in his novel The Alchemist:

When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.

For the first time you are willing to believe that.

———————————————————————

YOU ARE NOT ALONE!

I have cycled through all five of these stages in the past sixty days. Hell, there have been days I cycled through all five of these stages in a 45 minute period. For my particular current huge life-changing decision, the pivotal parts of the five stages went a little something like this:

Dreaming

The plan was to move across the country to San Francisco. Frankly, I wanted to get out of Maine for a number of reasons including cold winters and stagnant career options. Not wanting to run away to solve my problems, instead I wanted to add to my life by finding new adventures. Time to move on.

Action

I saw a posting come up for a gig that would help facilitate my dream. Not to move to San Francisco, but would give me the opportunity to travel the world. Doing work that I love for a brand I passionately supported. In what I now refer to as the best stupid gamble I have taken in 31 years, I applied. Those crazy bastards hired me. I leapt around in my friend’s studio apartment, squealing with glee and calling friends and family at 11:45 PM to tell them that the adventure was about to begin.

Disenchantment

Soon after the announcement, I was on a Skype call with the boss man. “Are you excited? Do you have questions? How are you feeling?” His excitement was contagious. I barely shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve got a list of things to do. Looking over stuff. Sure, I’m excited. I guess.” I was ready for my life to change, I didn’t want to wait around for it!

Denial

I was never going to board the plane. There was no way this was going to happen for me. People like me don’t do crazy things like this. I’m going to get arrested or attacked or robbed or bitten by one of the terrifying poisonous Indonesian snakes I continued researching. There are hundreds of people online that are so much more qualified than me for this gig. Everyone is going to hate me.

They’re going to know I have no place here.

I’m going to fail.

I sat on my parents’ couch, where I am living temporarily, and sobbed.

Acceptance

As I stood in an all too long line at the Post Office, I noticed my breath getting shallow. By the time I got to the counter to Express Mail my paperwork to the consulate and set up a package for them to Express Mail my paperwork back, my hands were shaking a bit. Signing each document in triplicate for certified receipts and overnight delivery proved to be a challenge and I laughed nervously. The man behind the counter asked me “So, why are you going to Bali?”

I blinked twice, looked down at my paperwork, and looked back at him. “It’s my first stop on an adventure that hopefully will never end. This is the beginning of the rest of my life.”

In that moment, I knew that somehow, this major life-changing decision was all going to be ok.

___________________________

In other life-changing decision story news, Tom Meitner (a fellow Dynamite Circler and creator of the website The Practical Nerd) sent me an email a couple weeks ago asking if he could interview me for his Hustle Life Magazine. Check out the December issue (which hits today) and learn even more about me and my big crazy life-changing decision.