Coming Home {Why 2011 was one of the best and worst years of my life}

December 23, 2011

A few days from now, R.T. and I will be bound for Michigan with a moving truck, all of our creatures, and our friend Ian in tow. I am so ready.

We’ll be settled in our house in time to ring in 2012. I feel immeasurable relief at the idea of beginning the new year with my love in our new home. We’ve both endured a year of struggle, loss, and transition. We’re looking forward to a new year and a new start. We’ve been listening to this song a lot:

(click here to view the video if you’re reading this via RSS)

But this year hasn’t been all bad, and it’s certainly come with it’s share of life lessons. The big, stick-with-you kind.

A year ago at this time, I was BROKE. Terrifyingly broke. Maybe-I-don’t-deserve-to-be-self-employed broke. Maybe-I-should-go-get-a-coding-job-to-pay-the-bills broke. But somewhere in that mess of self-pity and fear, I managed to summon enough optimism to tell a friend, “I know it’s going to get better. Next month I’ll probably make six thousand dollars and I’ll barely remember what this feels like.”

I got through the later part of 2010 on the thread of hope that I was going to OWN 2011. I convinced myself that it would be smooth sailing to make up for the hellacious crapfest that was 2010.

But that’s not what happened, of course. Well, that’s not true. It’s sort of what happened. But more than being a year of great experiences, it’s been a year of taking the good with the bad.

In mid-January, after several months of being overworked and undernourished, I woke up on a Thursday and couldn’t stop crying. Couldn’t get out of bed and certainly couldn’t go sit at my desk and get shit done. Depression wasn’t new to me — I’m a happy person who happens to be chemically depressed — but this feeling was. I’m not the type of person to roll over and surrender to my suffering.

I called my therapist at home. I cried on the phone with a dear friend who later showed up with coffee and DVDs. I called my doctor. A week later I started anti-depressants and a week after that, I closed my books for January at $6,400.

That’s pretty much how the entire year went. Do the hard work, then reap the rewards. (Actually, that’s how all years go. Shhh.)

In March, after two years together (and almost a full year of on-and-off, trying-and-failing), Noah and I broke up for the last time. We’d been through so much together — we had so much history with and love for each other that it was really hard to see that end. But it was time and we both knew it.

A few weeks after that, I met R.T.

‘Met’ is the wrong word. We’d been acquaintances for a couple of years — he was even a client for a little while. But our friendship sparked in early April and I nearly instantly felt like he was my new best friend. Dating him came with it’s own set of struggles — far more than any new relationship should. He had a live-in girlfriend when we started dating, and I was totally new to the concept of polyamory/polyfidelity. Pardon me while I gloss over a lot of that mess – the short story is: the three of us gave it our best shot, but after a few months, he and I broke up, and then they did, and then she left, and later, he and I made our (monogamous) thing official. The glossing-over might give you the impression that this was all clean and easy. It wasn’t. We all got hurt. It really, really sucked.

But, again, things that suck open doors for things that suck less. (Boy, that sounds optimistic.) We’re incredibly good partners. We’re both stubborn and ambitious and terrified of being stagnant. We respect and admire one another but we won’t settle for less than the other’s very best. R.T. is exactly what I need in a life partner AND, happily, what I need in a business partner.

Our dreadful, difficult summer became autumn, as it does. We decided in late September that it was time for us to leave this place. I needed new adventure, R.T. needed to stop making excuses, and we both needed a clean slate. We thought about Portland, Oregon, but eventually settled on Detroit, Michigan.

We’ve been planning our move for two months now. We’ve rented a house, sold his car, started packing. In the meantime, we’ve been living in separate apartments but spending nearly all of our time together at one or the other place. We’re both exhausted.

Preparing to leave has been very hard. I moved to the east coast three weeks before my 18th birthday. I was raised in Michigan, but I grew up here. I’ve been saying goodbye to so many of the people who helped me become the person I am today. Dear friends, ex-boyfriends, my therapist. It’s time for this stretch of my journey to end, but oh how I will miss this home.

The past year has been a nice summary for my decade on the east coast. I’m so grateful for everything I’ve experienced here. The people I’ve loved and lost, the education I received, the business I started.

The number one thing I’ve learned (over and over again) is that the struggle is always worth it. There’s always something better around the bend.

I’m ending 2011 a far cry from the broke, scared place I was a year ago. I’m so grateful that I stuck it through the tough months. I’ve had the most amazing clients this year – Kelly Rae Roberts, Andrea Scher, and Diana Charabin (of Tiny Devotions) among them. My business has really come into its own. I’m honestly incredulous and so, so excited.

I’m telling you all of this because I know it’s a tough time of year for all of us. If it’s not the stress of the holidays, it’s the dreary, cold weather. And if it’s not the weather, it’s the symbolism of one year ending and a new beginning. It can be really hard to keep your chin up.

And you don’t have to. But you do have to believe in yourself and believe in what you’re doing. It gets easier.

Set your intentions. Eyes on the prize.

I wish you a happy, joyful 2012, and I can’t wait to tell you about my adventures in Detroit.

Love,
LC

read the comments (6) » Filed Under live your best life

i was {gasp!} unschooled (and lived to tell about it)

November 04, 2011

Lately, it seems like the blogosphere is all abuzz about home/unschooling. I had a brief IM chat with my dearest Kelly Rae about it a few months back, and more recently, Leonie posted an article called Unschooling & Other Miracles. Leonie told me she’d like to hear more about my having been unschooled, so I thought I would write up a quick lengthy detailing of my experience.

My primary education years started out fairly normally. I went to pre-school, kindergarten, and first grade at a traditional (public) school. Trouble began when I taught myself to read halfway through kindergarten. Trouble. Man, you are not supposed to learn how to read until second grade! I was a rebel without a cause. A forced to be reckoned with. Etc.

First grade was terrible. It’s hard to imagine that now, isn’t it? Don’t we all passively long to be six again? Well, being six should be fun, but first grade wasn’t. I was quiet and well-behaved, which was my first mistake as a student at an inner city school. Please know that I’m not speaking poorly of all teachers in all public schools (because I know some great ones), but this teacher and this school were a disgrace. My first grade teacher, Mrs. Rose, situated me between two rambunctious, disruptive boys (who I’m pretty sure were both named Anthony). They were her problem students, and she decided that seating me between them would make my good behavior “rub off” on them. Now, in case you’re not getting a clear enough picture, keep in mind that a six-year-old is not very big. Certainly not as big as, say, the wall that would have been necessary to keep those two boys from teaming up and wreaking havoc on the world around them — particularly the little girl that sat between them.

That was bad enough. To add insult to injury, I had this pesky habit of finishing my worksheets long before anyone else did. My reward? I was told to put my head down and rest until the rest of the class was finished. First of all, worksheets? REALLY?! Secondly, WHAT?! I wasn’t given permission to read a book, or draw, or even offered an additional worksheet. I was told to put my head down on the cold, hard desk. Really powerful way to motivate a six-year-old. Except not at all, actually.

Oh, also, I was once scolded for coloring a drawing of my face with a brown crayon. My Crayola 8-pack didn’t come with peach and white crayon doesn’t show up on white paper, so sod off, you unimaginative old bat. AHEM.

I was, as you might imagine, an anxious mess. Everything pretty much came to a head toward the end of that school year. I was sent to the doctor for stomach issues for probably the third time, and she told my mom that it seemed like I was developing an ulcer. Around the same time, the school released the results of the California Achievement Test. (Don’t get me started on standardized testing.) The assessment report stopped at a third grade level, but my scores didn’t. My parents asked for more information – namely, at what grade level I was testing. The school claimed they weren’t able to provide that information. My parents then asked that I be given third grade coursework but, of course, there’s no room for individualized education in public schools (or, at least, there wasn’t then).

Faced with the facts — that their 6-year-old was spending her days and weeks bored, tormented and stifled sick (literally) — my parents took myself and my younger sister out of traditional school. Because they couldn’t afford private school and other alternative schools weren’t available in our area, keeping us at home was the only feasible option.

We always used the term “homeschooling”, but we were actually unschooled. We were not the “sit at the kitchen table from 9-noon” family. For most of my childhood, my siblings and I spent our days climbing trees, gardening, reading, making art, having scavenger hunts. We were almost never inside. There were so many books in my house, and we went to libraries at least once or twice a week. I loved to read. I was also obsessed with bugs and other creatures, so I spent a lot of my time collecting them (as pets) and observing them. (I was allowed to keep caterpillars until they became butterflies, but everything else had to be released after 3 days in captivity.)

Growing up in the 90s, home/unschooling wasn’t quite what it is now — or, at least, without the internet, it didn’t seem like it was. Where I grew up, the majority of the other home-schooled kids were kept at home for religious reasons. For this reason, my unschooling experience was fairly lonely. Most of my socialization came from programs at the local library (and a brief run at being a girl scout). These groups weren’t oriented toward home-schoolers, and I found that I didn’t really relate well to these kids who were supposedly my peers. I certainly had other kids to play with — we lived in a decent neighborhood and there were other families — but I had only a couple of close friends who were also unschooled.

Home/unschooling does not have to mean depriving a child of socialization, though. I do feel that I was undersocialized but that’s because of circumstance, rather than just being a side effect of home education. Today, there is no shortage of homeschooling groups, and kids can even take classes and participate in sports at the local public school, not to mention things like 4-H, dance, etc.

To wrap this up — I graduated from high school a year early, after taking a more regimented approach to my own education in my secondary years. (I was self-taught and enrolled Clonlara’s Homeschool program — which gave me a high school diploma.)

I am, overall, hugely grateful for my home/unschooling experience. There are some things that could have been better, of course, but the primary one is just that I would have liked to have been more social in my teens.

The other failing of my particular unschooling experience was the lack of math education, and I think it’s important for this to be a consideration to other unschooling families. Though I was reading at a college level by age 9, my math skills were never cultivated, which is a shame as I’m actually quite good at math. It took a lot of struggling once I re-entered traditional school (which I did for a short while in 8th and 9th grades and then again in college) to get caught up on what I’d missed having been unschooled. I still don’t know how to divide without a calculator. (Oddly enough, though, I’ve managed to become a successful adult without those skills.)

Today, home/unschooling parents (and parents considering home/unschooling) are so delighted when I tell them that I was unschooled. I defy a lot of the stereotypes by being a bubbly, outgoing, intelligent and well-adjusted adult, and I think that gives them hope. Based on my early public school experiences, I can tell you that I certainly wouldn’t be the person I am today if I hadn’t been given the privilege of unschooling.

I want to close by reiterating that I didn’t write this to attack our public school systems or the amazing people who dedicate their lives to teaching in them. I wrote this so that the many parents of young children out there who are considering educating their children at home would ideally gain some perspective/insight from someone who grew up unschooled and turned out okay.

If you’re one of those parents, please, please don’t hesitate to get in touch with me. I would love to talk to you more about alternative schooling.

Lastly: If you’re NOT a parent who has considered educating your child at home (or for whom it isn’t feasible), PLEASE don’t take this as an attack on your choices. I am in no way of the opinion that sending your children to traditional school means that you love them any less or that you’re not a good parent. No, no, no, no. Schooling our children, like every other aspect of parenting, is a very personal choice. It is up to each individual to determine what their child needs and fulfill those needs to the best of their abilities. For a great many of us, that means sending our children to traditional school while we work our day jobs. Ideally, though, you’re sitting down with them at the end of the day and educating them anyway. It takes a village and all that, but it starts at home.

Namaste,

Leah

read the comments (7) » Filed Under live your best life

The next grand LC adventure

October 28, 2011

Detroit. #nofilter
Sunset on Bell Isle. Detroit, Michigan.

It’s no secret that I’m a Midwestern girl. I grew up in Michigan and moved to the east coast (Maine, to be specific) a few weeks before my 18th birthday. I moved to the New Hampshire seacoast a few years after that, in March of 2005.

It’s hard to believe that a couple of months from now, I’ll be celebrating my 10th anniversary of leaving Michigan.

The last several weeks – leading up to and including my recent trip to my home state – have made me realize something big: ten years is enough. I’m ready to go home.

Sometime after the new year, R.T. and I will be headed to the Midwest, settling in or around Detroit. With this change, R.T. will be leaving his FT gig to become a more active part of the LC team. I’m looking forward to having him as my partner in all aspects (scary as that is for someone who is as hyper-independant as I am).

It goes without saying, of course, that the move itself will be bittersweet. I will miss the seacoast terribly. I have such great friends here. But, I’m so excited for this new adventure. Like my beloved Elise said, “doing things like this are hugely important in life for mental clarity and growth”. There are so many interesting things happening in Detroit right now, and I’m so excited to be a part of that.

So! That’s the exciting news ’round these parts! If you have tips for making a long distance move easier, do share them! And stay tuned for updates!

xo, Leah

PS. If you’re interested in reading more about what’s happening in Detroit, you should check out Sweet Juniper. (I don’t know him personally, but his blog makes me all the more excited for life in Detroit.)

read the comments (4) » Filed Under live your best life

The nature of inspiration (in a gadget-driven world) – why we’ll miss Mr. Jobs

October 06, 2011

“Almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure — these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.” – Steve Jobs

Today, R.T. shares his thoughts on the real reason the world will miss Steve Jobs. Rest in peace, Mr. Jobs. You were a great man.

We’re big Twitter fans here at LCWS. For those of you who aren’t, here’s the biggest story of the last twelve hours: the passing of Steve Jobs.

There are a number of Apple products that make up our combined creative endeavors. All of our websites are built on Evelyn, Leah’s 1.5-year-old MacBook Pro. My music gets recorded onto an iMac or my Mac Mini, on which I also write. We have an iPad, an iPhone, at least one iPod, and a host of accessories. We dig on Apple stuff, as you can tell.

And that’s why on this morning, we’re thinking about the nature of these gadgets as our friends and contemporaries share their sadness at the passing of the man who made them all possible. Whole careers (and industries) have been built on or around Apple products. People often feel a deep connection with their electronic toys and we’re no different. Sure, it’s just a computer/phone/other device, but, man, it’s a pretty one.

Folks were really attached to Mr. Jobs. He was responsible for designing some of the nicest stuff that ever plugged into an outlet. But the aesthetics and overwhelming popularity of certain consumer electronics don’t get to the heart of why people are sad today. Plenty of companies crank out sleek, efficient machines that help us do our jobs and separate us from our hard earned cash.

The truth is, it’s not just tech lust that gets Apple addicts up in the morning. We’re actively inspired by the whole story of the machine. In that way, the death of one company’s founder and leader is a very human story, and a moving one. There was one very singular dude at the end of the trail that brought us these products. And that is what speaks to us the loudest.

Everyone wants to invest themselves in something iconic or moving or important and have the tendrils of their very own heart reach out to millions. It doesn’t matter what the product is. We can’t help but feel fondness for a guy who actually bought into his own dreams hook, line, and sinker because that’s what we want to do.

We’re swimming upstream all day long, dealing with frustrations and setbacks, learning lessons and applying them, and pushing, pushing, pushing because that’s what we want more than anything — to think and dream and inspire others. To get to the end of the day and have created something.

We’re not here for nothing. Buying and becoming fascinated with new technology might seem pedantic and distracting, but everything we interact with is a conduit for our life’s work. We might as well enjoy the back-lit boxes we stare at all day, every day. And if we’re lucky enough to have that product inspire us because of the driving force behind them, all the better. It’s a tough world; a little extra inspiration never hurts.

So, if you’re thinking, ‘They’re just computers,’ you’re right. But remember that for so many of us, they represent something else, too: the courage to believe in yourself and the strength to follow your dreams.

read the comments (1) » Filed Under live your best life

Giving up my office (and other things I learned this month)

October 03, 2011

Can you believe it’s October already? Are the leaves changing where you are? I live an hour from the White Mountains and I’m so looking forward to taking a drive north in the near future. I’m also preparing for a trip to Michigan to celebrate my childhood best friend’s marriage. Yay, autumn! I hope you have at least one apple-picking excursion planned.

September taught me a lot about living my best life. I had a snafu with a sketchy insurance agent that left me (gasp!) without health insurance. (So frustrating.) That situation made me re-evaluate my monthly budget and lead me to the decision to give up my studio/office space.

It was a hard decision. I rented that space for a myriad of reasons, but one of them was as a physical representation of my success as a small business owner. I didn’t work from home anymore! I had a place to meet clients! I had an office and a home and they were a quarter mile apart! Celebration! Confetti! Muppet arms! Other enthusiastic expressions of joy!

But, it was kind of expensive. Also, the internet was really unreliable. (It’s hard to run an internet-based business without an internet connection.)

My work space is now situated in one corner of my bedroom. On one hand, I am in love with this. I have two desks – a standing desk and a seated one. (Standing desks are awesome, by the way.) My art supplies are everywhere — organized but accessible. I like that everything is in one place.

On the other hand, I feel like a fraud.

My business is two years old. And lucrative. And I’m working out of my bedroom. That’s not how that’s supposed to go, right?

Except… According to who?

Here’s the thing I’ve come to terms with the past few weeks: This being-your-own-boss thing is a process. It’s a journey. It’s a practice. It doesn’t have to look a certain way. This isn’t about passing milestones. It’s about creating a life that you are happy in, and doing work that feels good to you — work that nourishes your soul and makes a difference to the world around you.

I give you permission to do what works for you and your business. It’s okay if you work out of a cabinet desk in the corner of your kitchen, or if you work at the crowded cafe across town, or if you sometimes work from the sofa, still in the clothes you wore to yoga this morning.

I also give you (and myself) permission to leave any one of those places and go to the gym at noon on a Monday. My boss said it was cool.

(Pssst – see what I did there? The beauty of being your own boss is that you get to make the rules. Have you taken advantage of that recently?)

read the comments (3) » Filed Under live your best life