Category: Motivation

How to Get Back to Feeling Like Your Old Self Again

I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but turns out, renting a room above an Irish pub that’s rather “could be great, could be a fungal groin infection” is an excellent idea. I do not say this because of the corner table you’ll get next to the fireplace downstairs, where you will proceed to order a traditional cottage pie (code for “scalding hot gallon of cheesy mashed potatoes”), watch a senior citizen play the piccolo with more gusto

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The 1% Rule for When You’re Feeling Rather “MEH, SUCKS” About Everything and Everyone, Even That Hot Pastry Chef

Well it’s Thursday and for everyone’s delight, I’ve compiled a random list of shit I absolutely should not know, but do: That you should photograph interiors with a wide-angle lens, set to 20mm instead of zoomed all the way out. (Otherwise you get distorted walls that curve in.) A ball of wool is technically called a “skein.” (And US 19 wooden knitting needles are my fav!) If there’s an elliptical fan light window on top of the front door, the

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If You Ain’t Feelin’ Your Work Anymore: HONEY, BURN THAT ISH DOWN.

So, here’s an idea: making money is not courageous. Anybody can ring a bell for twenty years. “Look, ma—I’ve been standing over here ringing this bell for two entire decades—durh, durh, durh—and I finally got a sticker!” Making money is a relatively straightforward consequence of showing up to breathe in the right place. Cause and effect. We’re lucky to live in a society that affords us that luxury. But I would argue that society has the upper hand, for it

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I Hate Mantras, And YET—I Love This One for When You’re Kinda Sorta Shitting Your Pants

I have a mantra (despite wanting to slit my throat upon hearing the word “mantra.”) Are you ready? My mantra is this: WHO CARES HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT IT? GO ANYWAY. Which sounds really kinda wrong, right? We’re a culture based on f-e-e-e-e-e-e-l-i-n-g-s. But sometimes, you have to override the ones that I call false positives. Like, even if your bitch-ass is scared to do something as simple as go to a SoulCycle class, where you will definitely not know

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Be Brave, Courageous, Interesting, Crazy, Difficult, Weird, and Downright Complicated. But Don’t You Ever Be Normal.

You know what’s fucked up? Normal. Normal is so fucked up. For example, it’s normal for expats to drink daily in Costa Rica. This is a terrible idea, and yet, because it’s done over and over again, it’s become normalized. NO ONE WILL GIVE YOU THE STINK EYE FOR SLUGGING A BEER AT 10AM, Y’ALL. It’s also normal to check your phone as soon as you wake up, answer texts as soon as they’re received, and assume, wrongly, that you

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Sometimes Wonderful Can Still Be Heavy

I love throwing sh*t out. Love, love, love, love, LOVE it. I throw out high heels and curtains, jewelry and fine china. (Okay so I don’t actually throw it out. I donate it. But the point is, it’s goneeeee.) It isn’t just the physical stuff: I’m also (creepily) good at throwing out old ideas, old identities, and old dreams. It’s all holding me down. Even the nice stuff. Even the wonderful stuff. Because sometimes wonderful can still be heavy. I’m

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One Big, Sexy Question for Instant Clarification On: What the Hell Do I Want to Do With My Life?

I was reading something on the Internet yesterday that was praising this woman’s work, and I thought to myself: there’s such a difference between doing work and having work. (And yes, I italicized “such” in my mind.) To do work is to take on a task, whoever’s task it might be. To have work, though—work that belongs to you, that you have taken upon yourself to explore, that you call your work—that’s something entirely different. You don’t hear much praise

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Sometimes You Fall Into Things. You Fall Into People, Fall Into Places, Fall Into Patterns, Fall Into Deep Dark Obsessions With Red Velvet Cake. (AHEM.)

The other day I tweeted about how I watched The Notebook and so CLEARLY I was living my best life. And then I started thinking about how much I love that phrase, because it’s a good reminder, isn’t it? Am I really living my best life? What does that even mean? Sometimes you fall into things. You fall into people, fall into places, fall into patterns, fall into deep dark obsessions with red velvet cake. Ahem. (As someone who is

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If Somebody Told Me to Pick a Husband at Age Twenty-Three, I’d Likely Be Waking Up Next to Some Guy Who Can’t Spell “Lemon.”

You know why we’re all unhappy and restless and jaded and depressed? LIFE IS BORING US TO TEARS. Boredom is the devil, but most people don’t realize they’re bored. They’re busy working. They’re busy running. They’re busy doing ALL THE ERRANDS and keeping up with those fucksticks, The Jones’. It doesn’t feel like they’re bored, but they are. They’re bored with life. They’re bored with themselves. They’re bored with the very act of breathing. They’re so very busy, but they’re

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WE ARE WASTING OUR BRAINS ON BULLSHIT (And Other Darling Sentiments)

You know those creeps who never drink any water and you’re all, “BUT YOUR CELLS! YOUR CELLS ARE SHRIVELING LIKE LITTLE CALIFORNIA RAISINS!” (Unless this is the kind of thing that only goes through my brain, in which case, welcome to my inner landscape, ya’ll.) I feel the same way about time. There are so many people who aren’t drinking enough time; they’re spending it, they’re bleeding it dry, they’re “making the most of every moment,” but they aren’t retaining

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