Hello family,
Happy last day of July.
I went to a wedding this weekend, which really put a bow on an overall beautiful month. The venue was stunning, the décor was A1, and the food was bomb. Sushi during cocktail hour? Say less.
I'm glad I danced up a storm because all the sitting during the drive to and from would have had me achy.
Between this week and the past two, I took up residency on I-95. I celebrated my anniversary in Cape Cod, MA, and Acadia, ME, while stopping in NYC, NJ, CT, and PA.
Your girl is beat, to say the least, and thankful for a completely bare social calendar for August.
What's funny is it wasn't long ago I frequently traveled a more southern stretch of I-95 when I lived in North Carolina.
While l moved to Chapel Hill to pursue higher education, most of my family and close friends remained above the Mason-Dixon line. I was often lonely, and gas was cheap, so I'd decide on a whim to visit home. One day I randomly did so around 7 pm, packed a bag with essentials – two jeans, three tees, underwear, and sour powers - and hit the road. I made it to the Big Apple by 3 am.
My time in the Triangle – the research triangle of Raleigh, Durham, and Chapel Hill - taught me much about myself, like what to do when a pipe bursts in your apartment or how to manage time with two jobs, research, teaching, and still classes. I've always been ambitious, and when coupled with being so far from home, I primed myself to absorb wisdom and extract salient advice from the most unassuming places. I was, and have always been, determined to succeed.
One moment stands out in particular.
Because my grad cohort was so small, there were ten of us, our classes connected us with professionals all across the career field of college athletics. One of those practitioners at the time was the head coach of the University of North Carolina football team, Larry Fedora.
On the topic of recruitment, my classmate asked him how he selects from all of the quality recruits that come his way. Football coaches notoriously have little job security at the end of a losing season. My classmate figured correctly that Coach Fedora must have a process to secure his livelihood… the one that rides on the back of 18 – 22-year old's. I know, yikes, right?
Fedora went on about stats, fit with team culture, and then a little bit about trusting his support staff, but the part that I locked in on was what he ended with. He said, "I make a decision, then make it the right decision."
I asked him to elaborate. I knew something was there, and I needed to be sure it landed.
After examining all the evidence and pouring over details, Coach Fedora explained that once he has made a decision, he locks it within his mind and heart that it is the right decision and doesn't question it again.
He doesn't waiver or doubt his selection after he has made it. He stands by the decision with conviction. He believes in his choice. He sticks to the plan he just made.
I was floored. In my short but anxiety-filled graduate experience, I must have made a dozen decisions between waking and arriving to class, which I second guessed.
I tucked that gem away for safekeeping. My 25- year old mind wondered how different my time would be if I let go of worry and followed through with my choices. If it worked for recruitment, it would work for me.
And it makes sense because when it comes to long-term commitments, sticking to the plan is the best way not to sell yourself short. On average, it takes about three years to gain real traction with any intention.
In the first year, everything is new. You're learning both techniques and processes. Progress is slow, and the learning curve is steep. You're initiated, can recognize patterns, and create systems in the second year. And by the third year, you're not only adapted to the workload and confident in your abilities but you're also in the space to innovate. You can see a lot further down the metaphorical road.
The first piece I was commissioned to write was a blog post in 2020. It took me eight days to complete, and I suffered from stress-induced diarrhea because of my anxiety and worry. A piece of that length would take me less than two and a half hours to outline, draft and edit today. The road is clear.
The space between today and 2020 was filled with procrastination, self-doubt, imposter syndrome, anxiety, tears, but mostly the belief that I will get better. And in remaining resolute in the opinion that I can, I now crank out writings of my own weekly. The me of three years ago would be impressed.
When sticking to the plan feels angsty, or I need a hand to hold, I usually snuggle my husband, pray for a steady heart and think about my two favorite literary beacons.
The first is mentally revisiting Sheryl Strayed's Wild: From lost to found on the Pacific Coast Trail. Over 1,100 miles – as an inexperienced distance hiker – Strayed crosses desert, mountainous and forest landscapes to trek the route that connects Mexico to Canada. There were points where I laughed until tears came from my eyes, such as her experience with duct tape and flip-flops. But what really clung to my bones was her account that sometimes the trail completely disappeared in remote areas. In more popular and accessible points, like state parks, the walkway was wide and defined, often graveled to keep hikers both safe and protect bordering vegetation. But as the author departed from the comfort of towns and civilization, the trail faded from a defined boundary to a beaten path, sometimes nothing at all. At the moments where she was farthest from society, she often had no indication if she was even heading in the right direction. Using the PCT guidebook, she chose to first read while walking the trail and learning off the cuff how to use a compass, she had to figure it out. But the one thing she never did was stop or turn back to perceived safety. In unchartered territory – when in a place where few have been or will ever go – you must keep going.
The second is Octavia Butler's hand-written notes to self in her journal. What excites me the most about them as someone who also journals is the conviction behind every line and statement. The absence of doubt, the certainty she knows she can create and move those who will read her works, is inspiring. Success takes many things – discipline, risk, mentorship – but most of all, belief. Being unmovable that this is what I want and I am not willing to waiver until it comes to fruition means the only thing left to do is work the plan. No matter where the process leads. I had my version in my house in Philly, and after writing this piece, I feel I need to designate a spot in my current residence to the same intention and manifestation.
Sometimes I wish life's path would appear as clearly defined as one of those Eat at Joe's signs in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. Most times I enjoy the surprises that arrive, which are greater than I could have ever imagined. Remember this: If you are called to show up, know you are equipped. Use what you have, ask for support, and most importantly, keep going. You owe yourself the life of your dreams. I believe in you. Let me know what you're sticking to the plan with and if I can help in any way.
I love you.
RL.
Damn. I feel like I need to hang this whole post on my bathroom mirror. This reminds me that we need all these self affirmation and directions to kill our own self doubt. Your self reflection and confidence is so reassuring and inspiring ; I need that Fedora and Rachel mindset- can I have some?
Thank you for the reminders.