August 10, 2010

going on a hiatus

Posted by Amy C under life experiences | Tags: , |
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summit of Mt of the Holy Cross | August 2008

I started amelia carolyn just a couple of years ago on a whim. It reintroduced me to my love of writing and provided a venue to share and express my thoughts and experiences.

And I credit this blog for helping me find and develop my passion for writing and desire to help others through life coaching. And in March of this year, I launched Expand Outdoors, my life coaching practice. And with it, a new blog.

I’m also embarking on a year-long road trip with my husband, where we’re planning on blogging together about our journey. (Blog url to be determined.)

That’s three blogs for me… too many for now. So I’ve come to the decision to take a hiatus, (or sabbatical, or break, or whatever you’d like to call it) from amelia carolyn. I believe I’ll be back, but my focus is elsewhere right now and instead of feeling guilty and stressed about not writing here, I’m going to trust that the right decision for now is to let it sit for a bit.

amelia carolyn
My mom wanted to name me Amelia Carolyn before I was born, but eventually my parents decided on Amy. I’ve always dreamed that Amelia was my alter-ego. A braver and more creative self that was hidden, and I’d wanted to give her a voice through my writing.

At the beginning of 2008 I had anticipated it would be a year of newness and celebrating all that was changing in my life. I didn’t know at the time what that meant. This blog was part of that year and over the next two years, I’ve been able to integrate the bravery of amelia carolyn that was hidden, and bring her into the present.

You can catch up with me at Expand Outdoors and theAdvanture.

thank you
I want to thank all of my readers for supporting me, encouraging me and reading here. It has helped me grow and expand myself and get me ready for the future.

hiking by lower mesa falls in Idaho | August 2010

 

June 7, 2010

“how do i get home?”

Posted by Amy C under life experiences, transitions | Tags: , , , |
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“How do I get home,” I asked the agent an hour and fifteen minutes into the call. I was close to tears. She’d been very helpful working with me and another airline to confirm a rebooking for us. It was 3:00am and we were still in Lihue. Our flight had been scheduled to leave at 8:40pm.

I was at my lowest point. On hold for over an hour, only to find out she couldn’t help. I tried to be understanding—I knew the situation. But I just wanted to know where to go when we arrived at LAX.

“How do I get home?” It’s a funny question to have asked. I was moving from Kaua’i back to the mainland with no home to go to. Was I asking her how I get to my final destination (SLC where we planned to stay with my father-in-law for a week or two)?

Or was I asking, in a moment of fragility, a bigger question? What is home? Where can I find that feeling of grounding? Before moving to Kaua’i, I wrote a post about feeling at home whereever you are. It was a post based more on optimism and hope than a reality I knew. It’s a really wonderful sentiment, and I’m still moving toward that reality, but it’s not so easy to come by. As a woman who grew up in the same home for 18 years, it’s an unsettling feeling to move without knowing exactly where you’ll land.

It’s a feeling of limbo. The space between here and there. Shifting habits and routines to fit a new environment; searching for a comfortable and inviting space to work. And the constantly-asked question that others ask as an ice-breaker, “where are you living?” Um… the United States? In a van (that hasn’t been purchased yet)? It’s an awkward question to answer these days.

And that’s what I feel like: Things that felt normal not so long ago seem so very unnatural. Questions I had ready answers to, now make me think twice. Routines I took for granted have disappeared. The next adventure hasn’t begun. I’m floating between what was and what will be. This space between where I’m creating and grieving all at once.

Something good and amazing and wonderful is in the works. It’s exciting and terrifying. The unknown. How will I handle it? With grace? With tact? With confidence? I hope.

We’ll head to Boulder soon—our “homebase,” as I call it. We have things there in storage. We have favorite coffee shops and good friends. We know the trails and how long it takes to get from point A to point B. It’s the best home I know right now, but I’m not sure what it’ll feel like when we get there. Will it still feel like home? Or will it serve as a magnification that I am homeless?

How do I get home? I’m not sure, and I think that’s the lesson. Or at least part of the adventure. We’ve signed on for this. The unconventional and unusual. We’ll figure it out. Home is whereever we are.

 

May 13, 2010

gearing up for our next adventure

Posted by Amy C under climbing, mountain biking, trail running, transitions | Tags: , , , , |
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kaua'i sunset

As our time here on Kaua’i winds down, we’re busy enjoying the sun, spending time with friends and eating as many mangos and fresh avocados and ahi as we can. Seriously. I’m going to miss the food.

But! At the same time, our next adventure is on the horizon and it’s really, really exciting. You’ll be hearing lots more about it as we get closer to it (and of course, while we’re on it), but for now, here’s a sneak peek.

One year. A van. Two bikes, climbing gear and running shoes. A couple of computers, add me and Bracken and voila! Adventure.

We arrive back on the mainland (in UT) at the end of May. There, we’ll look for a van that will fit us, our stuff and our budget, kit it out and then drive it to Boulder. (Or, we’ll figure a way to Boulder and find a van there… thus begins the year of living in the moment.)

We’ll hang out in Boulder seeing friends, catching up, attending Ignite Boulder 11 (yay!) and working (probably a lot). We’ll then set out early August for a family reunion in Idaho and from there… onward.

We’ll be working some, climbing a lot, biking a good chunk and running many miles over this next year. We’ve been talking about this for a few years now (well before we got engaged) and it’s finally happening. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it… I’m excited and petrified all at once. I’m learning the art of transition quickly.

Here’s to adventure! Hope to see you on the road, at the crag and on the trail.

Aloha!

 

May 9, 2010

selling my surfboard

Posted by Amy C under surfing, transitions | Tags: , , , |
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november 2009: my new board

In an effort to live more simply, I try to purchase only what I need or what I love, and to purge when necessary. The time has come to begin purging our major Hawaii purchases in preparation for our return to the mainland. As pragmatic as I tend to be, the process of selling and getting rid of things is never easy for me.

Especially when I am selling something that helps me connect with memories and experiences. I purchased my surfboard at the monthly surf swap, held the first Saturday of every month in Hanalei. It’s a 7’9″ Blair hybrid (between a long board and a short board). It’s been the perfect board for me this winter. Easy to paddle, maneuverable on the wave, pretty and mine.

I just posted it on craigslist this morning and find myself in a particularly melancholy mood. I’ve experienced many ups and downs in my surf education this winter. Lots of frustration and discouragement mixed with amazing moments of joy and exhilaration. I have re-connected to the power of the ocean. I have experienced humility and growth.

dawn patrol: hanalei bay

My board is a tangible representation of my journey and I am sad to see it go. One more lesson in the impermanence of “things.” I wish I had more pictures of me actually surfing, but getting the stars to align for the wave, me riding, and having someone on the beach with a camera at the ready is actually pretty difficult. But I have a million memories stored within me to hold close.

I’ve carried it from the apartment to the car and back; up and down the beach looking for the best place to go out. I’ve stripped the old wax with a cancelled credit card (better than a store-bought scraper) and took pleasure in applying a new base coat and layer of regular wax.

surfing

I’ve surfed on small and big (for me) days; glassy and clean days, and choppy and really soupy days. I’ve surfed in the sun, the rain and the wind (often in the same session). I’ve surfed at sunrise and sunset.

I’ve been in the line up with professional surfers and I’ve been out completely alone. I’ve seen sea turtles close up and double rainbows over the bay. The water has been murky gray and a clear, brilliant blue.

I’ve dodged crowds of keiki’s and tourists learning, as well as the more experienced surfers and paddle boarders. I’ve gotten annoyed at the lack of etiquette from surfers, and met incredibly encouraging ones. I’ve been cut on the foot, hit in the head and bruised from this sport. I’ve been tossed around in the whitewater more times than I can count.

I’ve experienced tears of frustration and huge grins of exhilaration.

I think my absolute favorite experience is when it’s a calm, early morning session with friendly waves and a light drizzle of rain. There aren’t many people out and a rainbow appears across the bay. Pure magic.

heading home

I’ve learned how to surf here on Kaua’i, and for that I am incredibly grateful. The learning curve is long and requires an immense amount of patience and perseverance. And it’s oh-so-rewarding.

 

April 29, 2010

leaving paradise

Posted by Amy C under life experiences, reflections, transitions, Uncategorized | Tags: , |
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kilauea falls

This week marks the 6-1/2 month mark here on Kaua’i. Our original plan was six months. We’re here for one more. As I’m learning, Kaua’i pulls you and many people end up staying longer. Sometimes for a month. Sometimes for a lifetime.

There are days it feels like we just got here. There are days that feel like we’ve been here for years. In some ways, I feel like I’m finally ready to be here. Like I just got acclimated and am now prepared to live for six months on a small island. Bracken and I have both joked that now that we have basic surfing skills, we’re finally ready to really learn how to surf.

I came here with a lot of goals in mind. Some I met (I will be a certified life coach next month and I can catch a wave and stand up on a board). And some I didn’t (I burned out on yoga after two months and didn’t really get the whole “slowing down” aspect of living). Yet what I’ve learned here, and experienced here, has become a pretty important part of me.

kaua’i
It’s hard to explain to those who haven’t been here (or lived here for a period of time), but I hear so often that this island tests you. She presents challenges in ways you don’t expect and magnifies them exponentially.

a taste of hawaiian trails

I struggled with the realities of paradise. I imagined (as it seems many do) that life here is easy and amazing. But it’s not always easy. I’m not on vacation.

I came to finally accept the fact that I can have a bad day and that it’s actually normal to do so. Just because the view is amazing and the beach is a five-minute drive away and the weather is temperate (albeit rainy)—it doesn’t mean that every day is about mai tais on the beach and 24-hour sunshine.

Cars break down. Neighbors fight. Good eggs are $7.00 a dozen. Cigarette smoke can filter in through the windows. Refrigerators die. Sometimes two or three times in one month. It can rain 18″ in one day. Or for six weeks at a time. You can still get injured. And you can still miss your family and friends on the mainland.

expectations
As our time here winds down, I find myself letting go of my expectations. I’ve stopped fighting island life and find new comfort in her embrace. The rhythms of the days are settling in. Maybe it’s because there’s a set date of departure that has created the sense of renewed appreciation.

the blue room

I believe in creating awareness around me and the world I live in. And maybe I’m simply more aware of the gifts I have at hand. I have to admit that part of me wants to believe that, on some level, I’ve passed her tests. That Kaua’i has accepted me as worthy of her love. That I’ve paid my dues and have this last month to fully immerse myself in the experience.

I’ve left all expectations. I’ve accepted that it simply is what it is: and that’s an incredibly beautiful and powerful place to be.

hanalei bay pier

magic

The magic of this island is in surrender and acceptance. As I begin to turn my mind towards our next adventure, I plan on taking my lessons and the experience forward.

Kaua’s greatest gift to me was her support throughout my certification process. I arrived here stripped of my old self—old beliefs, identity and labels—open and vulnerable to whatever showed up. I struggled a lot through the process. I cried a lot. I grieved for the past and I embraced the new. I became stronger and more sure of who I am and who I continue to grow into.

Through all the challenges, I have become more of the best in me and let go of what was dragging me down. Kaua’i has provided a solid foundation, at this particular time of my life. Her nourishing energy is solid within me.

 

March 28, 2010

starting something new

Posted by Amy C under expand outdoors, transitions | Tags: , , , |
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It’s always difficult to begin something new. A new sport or a new job… or building a new business (for example).

While here on Kaua’i, I’m building my life coaching practice. So far, I absolutely love it. And Kaua’i has been kind to me. I am beginning to think of my time here as an incubator of sorts. I moved here in October and began my certification program immediately. I will be leaving here at the end of May and hope to graduate June 7. I didn’t plan it that way, but if it works out, it’ll be quite lovely.

I realize starting a business takes time and patience. Here in Hawaii, I figure I’m laying the groundwork and building a solid foundation. I have a lot of ideas and a lot of plans. I keep reminding myself they won’t happen overnight.

I’ve started a blog over at Expand Outdoors and I’d love it (if you haven’t already) if you click over there and take a look. I’m attempting to write a lot more often and there may be some overlap, but I’ll also be experimenting more with my writing here. AmeliaCarolyn isn’t going away.

In the meantime, as I get used to having two blogs, two twitter handles (@ameliacarolyn and @expandoutdoors) and a facebook fan page, my postings here will very likely be a lot more sporadic (not that they haven’t always been fairly sporadic, I admit). I’ll also be posting links to my blog at Expand Outdoors every so often to help get the word out that I’m over there, too. If you like what you read, feel free to pass it along, share with your friends and family.

Here are the latest posts:

March 14: It’s Never Too Late to Play Outside

March 17: Barefoot Hiking

March 19: Links for 3.19.10: Expansion, Inspiration and Motivation

March 22: Creating Awareness and Kicking the Habit of Blah

March 24: Book Review: The Girl’s Guide to Surfing

March 26: Nutrition, Inspiration and a Little Surf Fun: links for 3.26.10

Let me know what you think. Wishing you a wonderful week ahead. Aloha!

 

March 22, 2010

defining moments: finding clarity in the utah desert

Posted by Amy C under defining moments, life experiences, transitions | Tags: , |
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This is another in my series of “defining moments“: Moments in my life that changed me in a significant way.

***

I stared out the window as we traveled west. The rolling sands of the desert passed by, punctuated with cactus and tumbleweed. The red sands in the distance beckoned. Moab was getting closer.

I inhaled the warm air as it blew through the open window; my hand hung outside, feeling the resistance of the air around my fingers. I leaned over and turned up the music.

Looking out at the open vistas I felt my body relax a little more with each mile between myself and my job. The stress was taking its toll. The music lilted through the air and my ears perked up. I turned the volume  up again to hear the words a little clearer, and began to fall in love.

I replayed it over and over. And over. And over again. My thoughts suddenly spinning in my head.

It wasn’t just that Nine Inch Nails could write such a hauntingly beautiful melody. Its’ magnetic pull was so much more. In this particular song, the piano gently moved through the verses, weaving through the lyrics, exploring their depths; its beauty and simplicity underscoring the weight of the words.

“If you look at your reflection, is it all you want it to be?”

Was I happy? Was I living a life I was proud of? That excited me? That fulfilled me? Was I making a difference?

The next question rose up:

“And if you could look right through the cracks, would you find yourself afraid to see?”

Could I look at myself with honesty? With pride? With confidence? Without apology? Could I look at my cracks—my faults and weaknesses and failures—and see them? Did I even recognize them? Or would I deny them? Would I ignore them and pretend they weren’t there? Could I see my unhappiness? My stress?

The answers started coming as quiet, unconscious rumbles in my heart. As I tasted and explored the words, seeds of change began to vibrate from my cells and into my blood, inching their way into my thoughts and my consciousness.

In that moment—driving into the desert at 80 mph listening to Nine Inch Nails—the course of the next 18 months of my life shifted dramatically. It was a subtle, and quite simple beginning to a new way of life.

***

Back home (after having listened to the song another ten, fifteen, twenty times), I thought that maybe taking a literal interpretation of the lyrics might offer some insight. I sat in front of my mirror and looked at myself. Really stared into my own eyes. What did I see? What was I afraid of? Who was this woman staring back at me?

I knew something needed to change in a big way. My job was wearing down my confidence and it felt like my soul was dissolving. I didn’t recognize myself.

I listened to this song every day during my commute to and from work. It sunk into my blood. This particular phrase playing louder in my mind.

Its message spoke to me; invited me to look at myself openly and honestly. The one area of my life I wasn’t happy with was overpowering and affecting every other part of my life. My friends were tired of hearing my complaints and I was oh-so-tired of complaining and feeling small.

I didn’t want to become a bitter, stressed-out person. I didn’t want to miss out on life. I didn’t want to be embarrassed by my own reflection. I didn’t want to shrink away and make excuses for myself and my unhappiness.

“If you look at your reflection, is it all you want it to be?”

No. I wanted to be more. I wanted to walk in honesty and truth from my innermost core. And I wanted every aspect of my life to reflect that—not just one or two areas.

“And if you could look right through the cracks, would you find yourself afraid to see?”

No. I’m not afraid of myself and who I am. I will stand strong and walk through my fears and hesitations, becoming all I want to be.

I realized that, in fact, I wasn’t afraid to see; that the “elaborate dream” I was living in could change. I welcomed the sight of my uncertainties and my misery because it’s exactly what was motivating me to act. I’d been on automatic pilot, assuming someone else knew how to drive my life. I’d thought that maybe everyone else knew better than me, and I was missing some vital information.

But no. As my eyes opened into this new consciousness, I knew I was the only one qualified and trained to drive my own life (duh). It scared me. I was disappointed I hadn’t taken action before. I was mad at myself for falling asleep at the wheel.

The message got into my bloodstream and into my heart. My desire to change things began to outweigh my fear of losing an income and being seen as a failure in my corporate job.

***

I have long held the belief that change is always a possibility when things aren’t going well. We can look around, see new paths and take action. The problem is that our awareness of the possibilities can so often narrow when we’re unhappy and stuck in a rut of routine and expectation.

When I heard this song, listened to the lyrics and asked myself these questions, a door opened. And then another. I could see a little clearer and my options expanded. The fog started to lift and possibilities emerged.

The importance I’d placed on my job began to disintegrate. My strength grew. Each time I heard the song, my confidence in the truth I’d known all along, yet was afraid to face, grew with it. I became excited and more interested in what life had in store for me around the corner.

It didn’t happen overnight, but slowly, over the days and months that followed that fall road trip. Each day of greater clarity fed my soul. The following spring, I quit my job. I didn’t have a set plan, but knew I needed the time away from the stress and pressure to find a career I loved.

***

Change—even the good kind of change we choose—is hard. It’s challenging. There are moments we question and second-guess ourselves, wondering if the past wasn’t better; that maybe we’d made a mistake.

Yet when we keep our eyes open; keep asking ourselves the difficult questions; keep looking into our own mirrors at who we are; we grow and expand and create a vast space of acceptance and beauty.

***

reference:

“what if everything around you isn’t quite as it seems?

what if all the world you think you know, is an elaborate dream?

and if you look at your reflection is it all you want it to be?

what if you could look right through the cracks? would you find yourself… find yourself afraid to see?”

– exerpt from the song, “Right Where You Belong,” by Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails

 

March 16, 2010

the busy of life

Posted by Amy C under life experiences | Tags: , , , |
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watching the sunset on ke'e beach

Sometimes I wish I could step off of the merry-go-round that life can be and take a breath. Take stock of changes going on and take time to think about what direction the next step will go. Alas, life doesn’t work that way. It continues to carry on, the sun rising and setting, people going about their business.

Most days I enjoy the journey, getting excited about what’s happening around me and within me. Other days, it’s a little bit harder.

My life seems to be changing and evolving so quickly these days. I wanted to take a moment and share the latest.

expand outdoors
The biggest things that’s been going on is I’m in the middle of building a new business for my life coaching practice. Many of you know I’ve been taking classes since arriving in Hawaii and expect to graduate with a certification in June.

It’s been a lot of work. Classes are international, and are conducted via phone, so we’ll have students from Shanghai, Arizona, Sydney, New Jersey, Paris, New Dehli and Texas on a call together. We’re required to take over 130 hours of classes, so I’ve been on the phone a lot!

One of the requirements of graduation is to coach five people for three months (or 12 sessions each). I’ve loved this part. Truly loved it. Which tells me I’ve chosen the right career path, as this will be the main component of my practice. I coach via phone (or skype for International clients), which allows me (and them) to be anywhere in the world. Great flexibility as Bracken and I plan to do a lot of traveling over the next year.

Speaking of Bracken, along with his regular work load, he designed my logo, my website and then built my website over the past few weeks. It’s still a work-in-progress, but it’s live and I love it.

You can check out the website here: www.expandoutdoors.com.

There’s also a blog I’m starting for Expand Outdoors. You can sign up via RSS, or submit your email address through the site and receive updates via email. It’s a pretty sweet feature. Topics will center around fitness, the outdoors, coaching, personal development and the like, yet hopefully will stay personal and engaging. Let me know what you think.

This blog (ameliacarolyn) will likely evolve a bit as I figure out how to write for two and what each will be focused on (as I’ve got a lot of posts about the outdoors here). I’m hoping to experiment and have a little fun with this one, so stay tuned and let me know how you like it.

waiting for the tsunami that wasn't

life in hawaii

Hawaii is still really good. It’s not home, but it’s good. I miss a lot of things about Colorado. I want to make the most of my time here and really enjoy it… but I find myself missing my friends and the trails and the air more and more. The time here, however, has been perfect at this particular time in my life. It is providing a new space to begin to explore my career and build my practice without the distractions of “how-I-used-to-do-things.”

I strayed a bit (okay, a lot) on my yoga commitment. It became too much for me and I wasn’t enjoying it six days a week. So I relaxed (to not doing any) for a few months and am now getting back into it in a more realistic fashion. A few times a week (1-3), along with running and of course, surfing.

I will miss the ocean tons when we return to the mainland.

And that’s it for now. Just a quick stop on the merry-go-round and now off we go. :)

dawn patrol

 

December 31, 2009

10 years ago

Posted by Amy C under integration, life experiences, observations, perceptions, reflections, transitions | Tags: , , , |
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There’s a trend on twitter right now that got me thinking. #10yearsago — what was happening in your life 10 years ago?

The first thing I tweeted was: #10yearsago I had never run a mile in my life, couldn’t hike uphill w/o taking a rest every 5 mins & sanitas too 3 hrs to complete.

Then I remembered that I thought climbing was crazy and had sworn I’d never do it.

So I thought it would be a fun exercise to look back at 1999 and think about where I was and what I was doing in 1999 and into 2000.

10 years ago:

  • I thought swimming 15 laps in a pool was a good workout.
  • I didn’t like seafood. Or spicy food. Or interesting food. Or any food that wasn’t a carb or meat.
  • I was living with a boyfriend that wasn’t incredibly healthy for me (or him).
  • I was singing with the Colorado Symphony Orchestra Chorus.
  • I was working at a nursing home (as an Activity Director), burning out as a music therapist.
  • I got winded hiking up a trail and usually stopped every 5 minutes to rest.
  • I thought digital cameras produced inferior quality images and didn’t see the point of owning one.
  • I drove a Dodge Neon.
  • I didn’t know trail running was a sport.
  • I didn’t know much about the sport of climbing and thought “those people” were crazy.
  • I enjoyed snowboarding on greens and easy blue runs a few times a year.
  • I sewed a lot of crafts and things.
  • I was living in Littleton.
  • I didn’t know what perseverance felt like.

What I didn’t know 10 years ago:

  • That fresh sushi is about the best food in the world.
  • That climbing up a mountain was exhilarating and freeing. And that I could do it.
  • That my body was capable of developing muscles.
  • That my body was capable of running. At all, much less long distances.
  • That I would be competing in triathlons, marathons, trail runs and loving it.
  • That I would work in corporate America and go on business trips that involved good meals and a passport.
  • That I would meet amazing people who would teach me about true friendship, trust, support and total and full acceptance of who I am.
  • That I would meet, befriend and fall in love and marry an amazing man.
  • That I would climb 16 14ers and run up one of them (three times!).
  • That I would learn what a harness and carabiner were and then use them on real rock.
  • That I would fall in love with running and climbing so deeply.
  • That I would find a passion and turn it into a career that involved the outdoors, fitness and helping others learn and find that passion.
  • That food tastes really good with heat and spice added in.

I think the biggest thing I didn’t know in 1999 was that I was an athlete. I ran for the first time in March of 2000. Thinking back on all that I’ve experienced, tried, and accomplished in the world of sport and outdoor activity over the past 10 years I’m pretty amazed I fit it all in.

The journey and discovery of that hidden strength opened up so many other doors and perspectives for my world.

I anticipate the next 10 years will open up and reveal even more. I’m ready.

Where were you 10 years ago? What’s changed? What surprised you? What’s coming next?

 

December 23, 2009

2009: a year in review

Posted by Amy C under climbing, integration, mountain biking, reflections, setting goals, surfing, trail running, yoga | Tags: , , , , , , |
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my annual rite of passage
I have begun the annual ritual of assessing the past year and looking toward the upcoming one in anticipation of what’s ahead. I always enjoy rereading what my annual goals were for the previous year (you can read my goals for this blog here, and my overall 2009 goals here). By the end of 2008, I knew that 2009 would be a big year.

Along with a few specific goals I set for myself (like flossing my teeth and eating my vegetables… both of which, I’m happy to report, saw an increase in activity throughout 2009), each December I think about a word or two that encompasses what the year ahead means to me.

2008 was a year of risk and wonder. 2009 was a year of creating possibility and abundance. As I write this post, my 2010 words are rising to the surface.

my writing goals for amelia carolyn
I realized when reading about the goals I’d set for my blog, I didn’t take my own advice. I didn’t revisit my goals and take time to reassess and revise them. And this December, I’m in a similar place with my writing and blogging goals as I was last December. I have made small steps, but none big enough to allow me to say, “I’ve met my goal.”

I haven’t achieved the frequency or discipline in my writing or posting that I’d set out for myself. And I know that had I read my goals again throughout the year, I would have made some changes. I might have made them a little more realistic considering the life changes I embarked on in 2009. I may have laid out smaller steps.

Writing is a huge part of my life and my dreams. I love the process and clarity I get when I write. And there have been small advances towards my stated goals to blog more and to write with more discipline (and less of writing only “as the mood strikes”). But I have work to do.

Luckily, I don’t believe 2009 was the only pocket of time where that particular goal could thrive. 2009 was a busy year. Lots of pretty big life changes happened in 2009 that took time and energy. In 2010, my writing will become more defined and frequent. I will have more purpose and more substance to my thoughts and posts.

So what took up so much of my energy and focus in 2009, you ask?

what a year!
Here’s a recap of my 2009 experiences:

I got married. July 25 was a fairy-tale day. The weekend filled with family and friends from all over the country was a magical weekend. The 11 months of planning that went into that weekend was exciting, challenging and filled with emotion.

crested butte, co

I ran. A lot. My running season was unexpectedly amazing and awesome. I entered and completed two ultra marathons. The Moab Red Hot 50+K and the Collegiate Peaks 50 miler. I also ran my best Pike’s Peak Marathon three weeks after the wedding and enjoyed a few other fun and challenging trail runs (the Golden Gate Dirty Thirty in June, the Gothic Crested Butte Third Marathon and the Barr Trail Mountain Race in July).

moab red hot 50k+

collegiate peaks 50 mile trail run

pike's peak marathon

I moved to a new state, into a new home, with my new husband. In September I sold my car and began packing. At the beginning of October, we moved all our furniture and most of our possessions into storage. Then Bracken and I moved to the island of Kaua’i, in Hawaii. We have been housed by the generosity of amazing friends and are still adjusting to the experience of reality in paradise.

polihale state park, kaua'i

sea turtle in poipu, kaua'i

sunset at hanalei bay, kaua'i

I embarked on a journey toward a new career and subsequent new business. In September, I became a student at the International Coach Academy, based in Melbourne, Australia. I will graduate in 2010 with a Professional Coaching Certification. I will be a life coach working in the outdoor and fitness industry helping others integrate fitness and sport into their lives. I plan on concentrating on “late-bloomers” like me who are new to sports and fitness and need education and motivation on how to get started and what to expect throughout the journey. (Stay tuned for more information coming in 2010.)

I played. I summited two 14ers (Antero for my annual birthday climb) and Pike’s Peak. I climbed. I bouldered. I ran. I bought a mountain bike and began to learn. I took up surfing. I began a yoga journey (going six times a week).

looking towards the summit of mt. antero

my new mountain bike on the 401 in crested butte

my new surfboard

I began to explore the kitchen. I enjoyed a few cooking lessons. I shopped at the Farmer’s Market. I observed and participated in the cooking process. I plan to write more on this, but for me, enjoying nutrition and preparing meals is a foreign, enticing concept.

an abundance of possibility
Has 2009 truly been a year of possibility and abundance? Definitely. I didn’t make a lot of money as I’d hoped, but I began to build a solid foundation for a new career. The abundance came in the form of love. Of community. Of grace and compassion (from others, mind you… I’m still working on that ‘have compassion for yourself’ mantra). An abundance of experiences, of emotion, of newness.

Possibility seems harder to pin down. Yet it feels like the possibilities presented to me, and the experiences I’ve had this past year, have themselves, been abundant: surprising myself at the Pike’s Peak marathon and placing in my age group; moving to a small island in the middle of the Pacific, miles from anything familiar; exploring a new career and life calling; writing on a variety of topics and experiences.

Life feels wide open in front of me. And maybe that’s what possibility looks like. Vast and open and free.

a year of promise
2010 promises to be a full year. The words that come to mind when I think of all that’s on the horizon for me are words like: grounding. integration. expansion. maybe this is the year for compassion? emergence. discovery. motion.

What’s in store for me? What do I have planned? Lots of goodness and awesome. As much as 2009 was a year of new things and beginnings, it was also a year of building foundations. It was a year where I consciously and deliberately worked to set up a foundation that will support big things to come. Those things may appear in 2010, or 2046. I just don’t know, but I’m building and I’m creating and I’m nurturing my world for my present and my future.

In 2010 my marriage will still be new. We will be exploring the newness and integrating each other deeper into our lives, becoming stronger partners in this life together. We’ll spend time building the framework for our future; our communication; our finances; our habits and preferences. We’ll be sharing our love through the ordinary and mundane, as well as the awesome and magnificent. Or maybe it’s more like we’ll learn to recognize the magnificence hidden in the ordinary. Solidifying our union to stay strong and sure through the many changes and journeys that are ahead of us as individuals and together.

In 2010 my company will launch. And with that, I dream of introducing others (and creating within them) a life-long love affair with the outdoors. I plan on learning a lot more. I plan on putting myself out there and introducing myself to others so they know who I am, and what my mission and goals are (and hopefully by that, I can reach even more people).

In 2010 we plan to return to the mainland, with a good bit of surfing under our belts, to embark on a year-long road trip around the U.S. to climb, mountain bike and run through our country’s celebrated and hidden gems.

In 2010 I want to surf tougher, climb stronger, run longer and bike with enthusiasm (with a little bit of badass thrown in to the mix).

I want to write. A lot. (In my journal; for my personal blog; for my professional blog.) I want to write a book or two (maybe just a short one to begin).

I want to smile more often and connect deeper. I want to love generously, with compassion and grace. I want to walk in confidence and recognize my strengths and gifts, sharing them with the world.

So my words for 2010? Integration and joy seem to resonate with my insides.

Integrating my marriage, my home-within-myself, and my new career into my future. Consolidating my thoughts and ideas onto paper and out into the world. Merging my passion for the outdoors into a career that inspires and motivates others to fall in love with nature.

Joy for the energy and momentum I’m experiencing in my life. Happiness in the simple and humble. Exhilaration in the challenges and transitions ahead. And a childlike exuberance for the travel adventure I’ve dreamed of for many years.

I raise a toast to 2010: A year of integration and joy. Cheers!

 

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