Align(ed).

Last year, I chose the word “align” to focus on for 2018. After 2017, the year of vulnerability (WOOF, I had a vulnerability hangover 300% of the time) – I wanted to take that soul dumping year of really leaning into how I felt/wanted/needed, and turn it into aligning my actions with it.

After a year of taking my newfound self, and trying to advocate for her aligning her insides with her outsides: here’s what I know.

Her insides had a lot of fear in them. Like, a lot. If one could find their insides shaking in the fetal position in a corner under a desk – mine were there, also in a blanket fort of insecurity. Afraid of taking leaps of faith, afraid of failing, afraid of loving hard, afraid of living outside of the routine that I was in. Ya know, the unhealthy routines we find ourselves in of shoving our feelings down and putting pasta on top of them? Or the ones with no sleep and all binge watching drama television because it’s way easier to watch other people be crazy? Or the ones where we bury ourselves under the needs of other people because we’re cool with their needs but we aren’t so sure ours are valid? I WAS A CLOSET OF “YEP. EVERYTHING’S COOL. LOOK OVER THERE.”

Spoiler alert: everything wasn’t cool. My husband came home an average of three-four days a week, my Harper (specifically) was struggling with the lack of stability, and I was buckling HARD under the weight of keeping things normal-ish in a house of big feelings and little connection.

Truth bomb: the year of alignment started with figuring out where I wasn’t living authentically. And it was a lot more places than I thought when I picked a cute word. First off, our family dynamic isn’t it’s best self – which means we aren’t really our best selves either.

Alignment 101 for Kayla: getting quiet with myself and figuring out what I thought of something, before I polled all of the people to help me decide. Because when I do that, in virtually every situation, I end up choosing the very best course of action for “if other people were in my situation” – but not so much me. And I am not over here trying to live Judy’s best life. Or Karen’s. Or Tricia’s. (any resemblance to actual people is purely accidental) I am trying to live mine.

So, in the year of alignment, I decided to do three things before I took an idea to the public: I prayed (and leaned in), I used that guidance to decide, and I wrote it down.

For my fear based insides, praying HANDED THAT ISH OVER. “‘Sup, Jesus, here’s the fear and insecurity – do with it what you will because I am about trek my people somewhere and I won’t be able to hold tiny hands while I carry that heaviness in my dang backpack. Nora is snacky, and I need more granola bars in here than insecurity.” Some of you don’t hand the fear to Jesus. And that’s totally cool. Chase it away from you at the gym. Sing it out of you in the car (also a big fan of this option, personally). Peace it out with a tall drink of water and a few deep breaths.

But, wipe that windshield, people – because fear is only clouding the view.

Removing fear does two things: it helps you decide and lean in from a sound place of openness to the positive (because fear does ugly things to perception), and it helps to shield you from the opinions of other people playing into the fear (not intentionally, our people don’t mean to hurt our decision making, but sometimes…)

The writing it down? I just needed to see the idea on paper, and write it as if it had happened. i.e. My family and I live in Rochester together under one roof.

When I wrote things down, I ended up playing the worst case scenario game. (Looking at you, @sam) You know the one. Where seeing something has happened gives us that rush of ALL OF THE FEELINGS, even sometimes relief? (See also: pretty much always relief because the actual worst case isn’t nearly as horrible as the worst case you created when you were dreaming the thing.)

I took the power out of the potentially scary, and put it in the possibility of being positive. It’s about the permission to consider.

If you could find a garbage bag full of my tiny statements, please know that they weren’t all that cool. Some said, “I have eaten a salad for lunch” (when the pasta called), “I wore the pretty black shirt” (when I wasn’t sure I could pull it off), and “I read my book instead of cleaning” (when Mom guilt begged me to abandon self care). Scout’s Honor: they weren’t all as cool as a city move.

After that, I asked my people. I was able to pitch ideas with confidence because my thoughts had foundation. I could answer follow up questions because I had the worst case scenario response in my pocket. (People tend to like that as a supportive argument – because – yeah, what is the worst case scenario?) I could stay open to opinions because not only did I not feel like I had lost control of my own life when I received them, but I also felt like I could consider them because I had already consulted my wisest opinion. Glennon Doyle calls it “the knowing” because she says that for her, it’s Jesus. For others, it’s the universe, or their inner selves, or for her one friend – “Sebastian”. (I love this. And her.)

Authentic decision making should be more like breathing: in first, then out.

I could align my insides with my outsides, and still consider the feedback of my people by asking, “This is what I decided. What do you think?” over “What do you think? Tell me what to decide.”

This question, one question at a time, was my way home.

Alignment, for me, was learning how to get quiet with myself and chart my very own best course before I put my boat on the ocean. It’s harder than polling the people and letting them tell me what to do, but I would argue that it’s worth it. And isn’t all heart work that way?

I am worthy of a life path that is aligned, wholeheartedly and authentically me – and so are you.