Our readers have been asking me some awesome questions both here on the blog and on our Facebook page about big new life adventure forward to Alaska. Questions like — “what exactly are we doing?” And “Why the heck would we pick Alaska?”
I wanted to take a picture of the moment we decided where we are going when we leave it all and start our lives over this summer. But things don’t always work out how you planned, especially when it comes to big new life adventures forward. I’m guessing that’s a lesson I’m going to get a lot now.
Instead, at the moment we decided which far away place we will head to when we start our lives over on Memorial Day, Luke was driving, and I – well, OK, I was crying. The relief that came with the decision, contained in an email from Luke’s future graduate school, was overwhelming. So instead, I took this picture when I stopped crying and Luke stopped driving.
We’re moving to Anchorage, Alaska. Why? Because plenty of people say things like “wouldn’t it be nice if we could leave it all and start over?” But few actually do it.
We are going to do it.
It’s a cult. It’s dangerous. You’re going to get injured. You need more cardio. You drank the koolaide.
Those are some criticisms about CrossFit as a sport. But this is not a blog post about the fitness part of CrossFit. This is an article about friendship and about what happens when you surround yourself with people who do hard things.
What follows is the only statement about CrossFit as a sport that I will make, I promise. I’m not going to pretend to be an expert on fitness. So here’s what I have to say on this subject: CrossFit, as a sport, regardless of any dangers or benefits, is really, really hard. It requires digging deep – super deep – into your willpower. And it relies on other people forcing you to do so.
And that’s what I’m here to talk to about today: friendship. So from now on when I say “CrossFit” in this article, I want you to think “community.” Don’t think about the sport. Think about the people.
So often when people talk about “time management” it’s used in the same sentence as words like “productivity” and “efficiency.” And then the conversation ends.
If you’re reading this you’re probably mildly interested or at least curious about time management as an idea. But it’s possible that you just flat out don’t care about being productive. And that’s OK.
Time management can still be for you. That’s because time management doesn’t have to be about what you’re producing — money made, ideas generated, whatever.
At some point recently you’ve probably been encouraged to get rid of stuff, clean out clutter, downsize your life, whatever. And now you’re surprised by how you feel.
Sometimes – like in my case – it’s out of necessity. If we’re going to have a big new life adventure forward, we’re going to have to sell pretty much everything.
Or maybe you’re taking part in one of these 40 bags in 40 days challenges. Clean out your life! Get rid of excess junk! Halt your hoarding ways!
Maybe you really want to be into this. But the truth is that getting rid of your stuff makes you feel sad. You like your stuff. You know you don’t use it, but you still don’t want to get rid of it. Purging is not bringing you joy. You do not feel lighter knowing that blanket you never, ever used is no longer in the closet that you rarely opened. Mostly, you’re just sad that you don’t have the blanket anymore. What if you did decide to use it? Now it’s not even there.
Or maybe you’re like me. You really DO like purging. Behold, the freedom of knowing that stacks of no longer needed tax documents have been shredded! But then you sell things that you logically know serve zero purpose in your life and you are surprised when you feel very, very sad.
Sad? But you didn’t even USE the thing. Get your life together. Let logic prevail! You sold the equipment you rarely used, and now you’re $300 richer.
And yet there it is, that feeling of loss.