Living a life worthy of the $75 journal

Yesterday my kiddo and I were talking about taking the easy route. She is a bright little girl, for whom most things come easy. Consequently, she can get by with little effort, and those activities that do require effort get put aside. I was sharing with her how I used to be much more like that – I still am, to a certain extent – but that with age I learned how good it feels to stretch yourself, and have a feeling of pride in learning something new, or accomplishing something that seemed impossible.

Around 2009 I bought a gorgeous leather journal with beautiful narrow-ruled paper and a leather tie. It cost about $75. And the reason I splurged on this item was because I felt like if I had it, I would have to up my game in life, because there was no way this journal deserved my mundane life to be recorded in it.

“Got up. Meditated. Made breakfast. Worked. Played Oblivion. Watched TV. Took a bath. Read a book. Went to bed.” That was not worthy of a $75 journal. That merited a 25 cent cheap notebook from the generic back to school section at Kmart.

So I thought that this notebook would help me out of the funk I was in. It seemed worth the bet. It was cheaper than therapy. It would call me to do awesome stuff, and record said awesome stuff. Once I had a gorgeous book to write it in, my story was going to take off.

The years between about 2008 and 2011 are my Lost Years. We bought a house in 2007. I was nesting. We weren’t getting pregnant yet. I had a good job and traveled for work once or twice a month. On Saturday nights we made custom pizzas and got a movie from Redbox. It was boring.

Then I got pregnant and lost my son. Then another miscarriage. And in 2011, I was sick of this boring and sad life. I lost weight. I spent time outside. I started writing again. I took on more projects at work. I had a baby. I had health issues and depression. And then in 2015 I finally took the leap and moved across the world.

For years my life was defined by my moving. After college I moved about every 6 months on average, to different states, to Los Angeles, to London, to NYC, to Nashville, back to LA. The newness sustained me. And while I don’t recommend moving across the world to everyone, it does shake up your life.

This time we moved to Spain, where I didn’t speak the language (and still am abysmal at it, to tell the truth) and nothing made sense (it still doesn’t). But sometime around 2017 I broke out that journal, which had moved with me. I had just had my first success monetizing my podcast, and I could see a way forward to actually make money at it. I had published a book. Every day I was learning new things, trying new things, and stretching myself. And it seemed like that was a good time to finally start writing in the expensive journal.

It took about 8 years for me to feel worthy of that journal, but when I finally did, the feeling of pride was amazing. I finally had this life I had designed that I was proud of and wanted to record daily.

And now we want to move back home, and settle down again. I long to put down roots again, and to be in a place where I can dive into the community, and it all makes sense. So we’re planning to move back in the next couple of years. And that will be great, too, because I finally stretched myself in the way that my soul wanted to be stretched. Now I can move back, actually choosing to come back, and not doing it because the alternative is too hard. I can come home with joy and feeling excited, knowing that no matter where I am, I am living a life that is worth the expensive journal.

Not everybody needs to move to live a life that’s worthy of the expensive journal. In fact, you probably have a life that’s worthy of it already. But if you’re feeling like something is missing, like there’s some deep need or expression of yourself that is going unfulfilled, I encourage you to try the hard thing, and embrace it. Let the expression come out, no matter how silly it makes you feel. Stretch yourself. You can start small. Tiny steps. Start a blog. Play the piano. Sing a song. Take a walk. And then add to it. Write the book. Share the book. Publish the book.

Going after your dreams, I’ve found, is like a muscle. When you first start working out, it’s really hard. You get sore. You wonder whether you’re ever going to be able to lift more than five pounds.

Then in a few weeks, you can lift seven pounds. Then ten. Then fifteen. And before you know it, you’re doing tricep curls with 20 pound weights.

That’s how it is when you stretch yourself, and let your deepest expressions come out. You start the blog and pray no one reads it. Then someone reads it. Then you write a book. You freak out at the idea of someone reading it. Then you let someone read it. Then you publish it. You get some reviews, and you learn not to read them. You just keep putting out your work, expressing yourself. Because that’s what we are put here to do. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.

So today, no matter when you’re reading this, where you are, what you are doing in life, do something that moves you closer to that dream. Anything. Then tell me what you did in the comments, so I can celebrate it with you. And together we’ll become a more self expressed and fulfilled group of people.