12 Unusual Things to Clean, Organize, and Sort — To Let Go of The Past & Prepare For the New

people-vintage-photo-memories-large

A few months ago, I started cleaning out unusual things. One bright Saturday morning, I woke to spent the day obsessively cleaning. Not frantically, and not hyperactively. But I did move steadily from one thing to the next, surprising myself with how much I could clean and how much these small, little things were calling me to be organized.

Do the big cleaning moves first

Last Spring, I had a copy of Marie Kondo’s bestselling The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, and we tackled several key projects over a couple of weekends. First were the clothes and closets, since those were easiest for me. We probably removed about half of our clothes and useless items that we weren’t actually using.

Next were the books (before | after), a tangible project that involved getting rid of about a third of our books. The result was surprising: everything on our bookshelves was something we loved, not something we thought we should be reading. Having a bookshelf of cherished collections instead of a bookshelf of admonitions about who you ought to be is surprisingly lightening. Your heart feels excited and eager, not weighty and oppressed. If each book were personified and the author came to life, shouting at you to read and reading quotes from the books to you, what would your space feel like? I want to be surrounded in warm quotes and delicious stories, in a way that feels like a pile of quilts, a cozy winter fire, and hot chocolate chip cookies.

Cleaning is best begun with big items first, big moves that feel concrete and tangible. We tackled the books over a weekend and felt a huge lift by the end. Some of the principles of Marie Kondo’s theory are:

  1. Discard first. First, throw things away. Get rid of things that don’t call to you. You can’t get clean and organized when you have too much stuff, and it’s stuff you don’t even want.
  2. Tidy by category. Pick a category to work on (clothes, books, papers, tools, kitchen) and work only on that. If you try to tackle everything, it’s overwhelming.
  3. Organize with care. When we store and organize things, it should be with pride. We should celebrate what we have and store it carefully.

Then we paused. We didn’t move directly to the next project. We enjoyed the summer, we got pregnant, we focused on our jobs and the work we were building.

When you’re not ready to start something new yet, sometimes you need to sort out the old. Sometimes it takes some reorganization and un-cluttering to freshen up your mind again.

More recently I’ve been cleaning, sorting, and organizing in small projects. It occurs to me that some people call this “nesting,” — but my desire to unpack, let go, and refresh has hit me in a way I haven’t seen before. Usually my cleaning begins with the big things: books, clothes, tidying up the surfaces.

Delicate, intricate, and unusual things to clean: small projects for an open mind

What’s different right now is the delicacy and intricacy of these cleaning projects — and how much they are re-organizing my mind as a result. Nothing seems to change on the outside (the house looks the same), but the refresh button in my brain lights up. I thought I’d share a few of these strange projects for your curiosity and inspiration.

The key here, however, is that this wasn’t rushed. Each of these projects took from an hour to a few hours, and I’ve been doing them as a way to start the day, or a weekend project. I take ten days off, then I dig into the next closet. They’re short and non-intensive. If the project starts to feel too large or burdensome, I’ve taken on too much.

Here are a few things to inspire you on your cleaning quest:

Radio stations

I spent an early morning hour walking through all of my Pandora stations and deleting everything I didn’t use. I had at least 60 or 70 stations and didn’t use most of them. The game involved playing a station, seeing if I liked the first song that came up, and deleting it if not. (In the case of a “meh,” I skipped ahead to the second song to verify.) Did I love the station? Did the name make sense? Delete, rename.

Socks

Over time, my socks pile up and crappy songs mingle with my favorite socks. I dumped the entire drawer onto a bed and ruthlessly got rid of everything that wasn’t a joyous favorite. Yes, joyous favorite! Did I LOVE putting them on? Alright, gone.

My sock drawer sings to me in the morning.

Underwear

Ditto: clean out all your crappy underwear. Chuck them. Get rid of things with holes, loose threads, or more. Chuck ’em. Buy new ones. Tingle. :)

All the crappy fridge bottles you never use

Open up your fridge. Look in the door. That weird maple-lemon marinade sauce you never use? The old soy sauce that’s crunchy on the edges? Chuck them all. Wipe it down. (Just the door! Not the entire fridge.)

Put all the loose books around your house back in their homes

Over a month or two the books wander off the shelves and take place on my nightshelf, my desk, my counter, the fireplace mantle, and other little bits and places. One morning I woke up and walked around the house and picked up all the books and placed them by the bookshelf. Back they go. Books have a home now.

Any old drafts in WordPress you’re not actively working on

Your makeup or medicine cabinet

The silverware drawer

We have lots of loose odds and ends. Go through and get rid of all those forks and spoons that don’t feel right. Unless you have a matching set already and you love it (we don’t), paring down can feel uplifting.

Tupperware

You know when you can’t find the lid to the tupperware? Chuck the unmatched pieces. Get rid of a stack of 16 little containers if you know you’ll only every use 1 or 2 at max.

Jewelry

I had so much fun laying out all of my jewlery across the bar counter and getting rid of half of it. I barely wear much at all, and all I need is a good pearly necklace and a few earring options. I made a pile to donate.

Your day bag or backpack

When was the last time you emptied your pack thoroughly? Marie Kondo says that your bag likes to be emptied every single day, because it gives it a chance to rest and breathe. I do it about once a week and I’m always surprised to find what stowaways are hiding out in there — bonus kleenex packs, nut bars, and other nick-nacks. Give it a good clean-out and feel lighter (literally) tomorrow.

Your card collections or pen collections

Ever stash away too many pens? Have a collection of notecards that you’re constantly rifling through to find a good one? Go through them now and pick out only the ones you love. Donate or recycle the ones that make you feel “meh.”

Reinvent your wardrobe (a la capsule wardrobe)

I moved everything that no longer fits into two big bins under our bed. I can’t wear most of my clothes right now as it is, and tugging down a shirt that’s too-short in the winter makes me feel miserable and cold. Instead, I moved everything out of the closet and my dresser and put only the things that I will wear currently (cold-weather pregnancy wear) into my closet. It’s about 16 hangers: 4 dresses, 4 blouses, 4 long-sleeve shirts, and 4 warm wrap sweaters. I only have one coat that fits right now, and it’s actually very freeing. To see these few hangers slim in my closet and know that I don’t have many decisions about what to wear — and that what I pick will feel great — makes me feel relieved, not worn out, when the day begins.

It’s all about how you feel

Holding onto a bunch of stuff that makes you feel lackluster, weighed down, or indifferent is heavy. When you let go, you lighten up. Tackling small projects can achieve the same effect as tackling big projects. Each time, I’ve found more space cognitively, and I notice that my energy no longer leaks out towards these unfinished and burdensome collections of things.

May this give you inspiration for the new year.

How about you? How does cleaning make you feel? What projects are you working on this year?

Stop Gmail Overwhelm With These Two Scripts

How to find and send emails (without going into your email inbox):

“I’m having trouble keeping up with my inbox,” a friend wrote on Facebook, asking for email tricks and tools people loved.

I use a ton of email productivity measures, and I always forget that we all have vastly different habits and routines. Here are a few philosophies, notes, and scripts that are worth bookmarking to make your life easier.

Slow down and send less

I find the less email I send, the less I get. I also don’t mind if it takes 2–3 weeks (or longer) to respond to things. As I train people to know that email is a slow way to get ahold of me, it works out well.

Email is other people putting urgent things on your to-do list.

Time batch

I use Pomodoros to cycle through emails and either do 25 minutes or 50 minutes in the morning a few days a week. The goal of a session is to cycle through all the messages and identify the urgent and important ones and delete the rest.

It took a while, but I have no problem actively deleting anything that isn’t on my list or agenda right now (especially if it doesn’t come with an introduction, or the request isn’t a thoughtful consideration of time).

Then I star things according to urgency: red is now, yellow is soon, blue needs information. I make tasks for things in my Asana that need more lengthy follow-up, and I use a chrome tablet or links to search specifically for that message so I don’t drown inside of an inbox unnecessarily.

If you’re a Gmail user, try these scripts:

Also, I have two scripts I LOVE to use when I need to use my inbox during in the day, but don’t want to get lost in it. They’re fairly easy to implement (all you have to do is copy the code and save it as a bookmark), so you don’t need any fancy tools to make these awesome changes to your browser:

#1: Search for a message without opening your inbox

For the dorks among us, here is the script for a gmail ‘search’ button. To make it work, add it as a bookmark in your browser — just copy this code below (no spaces before/after) and add it as a bookmark for running a distraction-free search:

javascript:var search=prompt(“Search Gmail for…”);window.open(“https://mail.google.com/mail/#search/”+search);

For best results, add a label called “Search” and add it to your bookmark bar. Then, when you click, it’ll pop up a distraction-free window that lets you search for the message you need without seeing any new messages in your inbox.

#2: Compose a gmail message without opening your inbox

You can do the same thing with composing an email without going directly to your inbox. I use this script:

https://mail.google.com/mail/?view=cm&fs=1&tf=1

Which pulls up a full-screen compose window without any information about my inbox. Freedom! No distraction! Add it as a bookmark and use these instead of navigating to an inbox for every message you need to find or send a message.

Lastly, my go-to response:

Also, my go-to response that’s unbeatable is

Thanks so much, now’s not a good time for me. If you want to circle back in a few months, we can try again then.”

This keeps my next 2–3 months very clear of unnecessary clutter, and 90% of the time people (sadly) don’t follow up. If I’m not that important anymore, great.

Sigh.

Email peace.

##

Huge kudos to Mattan Griffel for teaching me these email tricks (and more!) about productivity and pomodoros. Our work together at One Month this past year has been like an MBA in the making. Also, thanks to Victor Mathieux for prompting the conversation in the first place.

How I Make My Morning Routine Work For Me

I struggle to do a morning routine.

In my head, my morning routine is perfect: twenty minutes of yoga, twenty minutes of writing, twenty minutes of meditation before I start the day. There’s a steaming cup of tea, a sunny window, a book if I’m feeling leisurely. This is all in my dream. In my dream, I also don’t check email at all before I finish the routine, and I head out the door to work sunny and refreshed.

Reality check.

Some mornings are as blessed as the picture above. But many—if not all—of my mornings are a lot different. Some mornings I’m up and out to an early breakfast meeting; other days I’m on deadline and trying to get something out by 10AM. Those days, I often wake up thinking about work, checking email, proofing my deliverable, and hastily get ready to go out the door.

Some mornings my hand cradles my iPhone in bed, and before I’m even halfway awake, I drool over my Slack, Facebook, Email, and other notifications from the comfort of my Pajamas.

And some mornings I want to spend all of it writing.

Sometimes I look up from my computer and realize I haven’t exercised in three days.

Rather than give myself crap for not being able to execute a perfect morning routine every day of the week — and I’ll probably laugh at this post in the future when I have kids and/or I’m trying to do other crazy things — instead, I just try to do one minute of whatever it is I want to do in the morning. My morning routine flexes to meet my morning, and by giving myself permission to do “just one minute” I can stay in touch with the things that I want to be doing more of. Over time, my habits build in the direction that I want.

One minute at a time.

Just one minute of yoga… means I take the time to exhale, bend forward, touch my toes, and let my head hang. One minute lets me reach up to the sky, arch my back, and lean over to the left and then to the right.

Just one minute opens up my back body, my side body, and the backs of my legs.

Just one minute reminds me to breathe.

Just one minute of writing… means that I open up my document, peek at the clock, and think, maybe I can actually do five minutes. It means I type furiously and say,

“Here’s the state of the day, in one sentence: running off to my breakfast meeting, still stressed about all this hormonal acne that’s popping up on my jaw line, and been craving a lot of sugar lately. Stress signals are high! I want to schedule some down time later today. Maybe if I’m heading in so early I’ll leave by 4pm and head home! Also spending a lot of time thinking about organizational structure and interpersonal dynamics. Reading an awesome book called Managing Humans recommended by a colleague of mine. 200 words is good enough for today!”

(That’s actually a post from this week. I’m being honest here).

Just one minute of meditation… means that before I dart off into a land fueled by coffee and excitement, joining other New Yorkers in their epic quests for excellence (or insanity)— I get to sit down and touch base with the idea of doing less.

Of doing nothing. Of just being.

Meditation has been a bigger challenge for me, as a person who likes to run at full sprint ahead before the race has even been announced.

It’s hard for me to sit still.

The first several months I tried meditation were difficult. Sitting still felt incredibly uncomfortable. It’s been a couple of years now of flirting with meditation (I just finished my third series in the Headspace app!), and I’m finally comfortable with 20 minutes of meditation. Some days are easier, some days are harder.

I much prefer guided meditation and music-led meditations than sitting in silence with my extremely loud, chattering brain.

In time.

Just one minute.

We begin again.

When I let myself start, things begin to open up. When I remind myself, even for just a moment, of the things that I love and enjoy, it gets easier. When I stop and return to the things I want to do, the practices that I want to cultivate, it makes the next day even easier to begin again.

Every day, we begin again.

“Just keep touching it,” my friend says about writing my book. “Just keep going back.”

It’s the same with my yoga, writing, and meditation practices. We just keep showing up, even if it’s a second or a minute at a time.

The more you show up, the more it surprises you.

 

How Do You Stay Healthy In A World Pressing Us To Be Hyper-Connected?

fVSwTG05QIaE9FN7tLQ5_IMG_1122

There are secret spaces inside of any city.

In Brooklyn, the underground subway is noisy, chaotic, and dirty. I wear gloves to avoid germs, and I try not to touch anything if I can try. Loud advertisements are ripped and edited almost immediately after they are posted; teenagers often color in the eyeballs with red sharpies and write crude notes in thought bubbles over health care advertisements.

But underground, where the subways rush by, where papers fly up, it gets noisy for a few minutes. A few minutes of deafening noise, of a rushing train that’s not stopping, a time when any conversations pause, and people wait.

As I’m walking from one end of the subway platform to the other, the passing train makes me smile — because I begin to sing. I’m learning how to sing (I just had my second private lesson), and in the subway, I can practice, for just a few minutes, without anyone hearing me.

Sometimes I scream into the subway abyss, just because I can.

Last week, I got to talk with Rob Lawrence, who recently launched the Inspirational Creatives podcast, and he asked me questions in a way that I hadn’t heard before.

Every so often there’s a question, an interviewer, a person that noodles further into my brain. Gets me thinking, talking, curious. As a writer, it’s challenging to express myself in speech in the same way that I’m accustomed to on paper; I get nervous, at times, that I won’t say it quite right. That I won’t get to dig into the deeper ideas.

Yet this one went deeper on several subjects. In this episode, I talk to Rob about the ideas of loneliness and being alone, and how they relate to the craft and the business of creativity.

How do you stay healthy in a world that’s pressing us to be hyper-connected?

I was lucky to chat about ideas that mean a lot to me — here are a few excerpts:

Of all the interviews I’ve done, there are still two that stand out in my mind — this one and the one with Srini Rao for the Unmistakeable Creative. Something about what Rob and Srini have done with their story structure and teasing ideas out have, well, captured ideas in a way that I think they deserve to be captured.

Inspirational Creatives —Episode 21.

I’m grateful to be able to share this with you. Listen to the full podcast here. Enjoy, and if you have time, check out some of his additional interviews on how to reduce overwhelm, or dealing with the competing pressures of doing social media, blogging, and business all at once.

A little rest can add a lot of happy.

Are you tired?

There’s something I’ve been reminded of lately—

Happiness doesn’t come from doing nothing; too much of nothing often feels more depressing.

But in the midst of the busy, happiness can come from a little bit of rest.

A change to your schedule.

A two-hour reprieve with a babysitter.

A Friday night in.

An hour-long lunch break where you sit in the sunshine.

A 20-minute cup of tea at your favorite tea shop on your way home, before you dive back into the working world.

Getting your nails done or having someone rub your back for a few minutes.

Getting the project that you’re working on done.

Staying in to listen to your heart’s pulls. Skipping the ten events that make you say meh just to stay home and do that weird thing that makes you say YES.

A little bit can go a long way.

Sometimes it’s writing “no, thanks” to an email that makes all the difference.

Sometimes it’s shutting down your computer 30 minutes early, or taking yourself for a walk.

Sometimes it’s doodling, taking a few photographs, or making something new for dinner just because you feel like it.

Whatever it is, today’s happiness isn’t necessarily an epic journey. Sometimes it’s a gentle conquest. Sometimes it’s as easy as a shift in your mindset.

Sometimes just a few minutes makes all the difference.

Making space: holding the container open, empty, and ready.

HEADER GRAPHIC TEMPLATE—PLANTS

Cleaning out sometimes feels a bit like a death.

Whenever I pack up bags to give away, it feels as though I’m going through old remnants of my past self, closets of things that represent who I used to be, and parting ways.

Lately I’ve been cleaning out everything: getting rid of extra toiletries, clothes, miscellaneous things, even most of my books, in an effort to minimize and make space.  Sometimes giving things away feels ceremonious and I’m glad to be letting go of things. I joyously depart from practices that no longer serve me.

Other times, it’s downright painful to leave a city you love behind and jump off the edge into unknown territory and build your next life.

Change can be painful, emotional, and difficult to embrace.

Christina Rasmussen, an author I stumbled across last year and who I have come to adore, started a similar conversation about letting go. She pointed out how these shifts happen across not just our physical lives, but our digital, connected, and spiritual lives:

“During the last couple of weeks I have been unfollowing some people I admired years ago. It is not that I no longer admire them; I am just looking for another place for my eyes to land. Facebook can be both a horizon and a wall. When you start seeing the wall, you know what you need to do.”

I couldn’t agree more. It is more than fine to unfollow. Unfollow to make space for your own brain to think; slow down to cherish your own heartbeat; let unread books become donations to people who will read them. And in the digital world, while the work people are doing may be beautiful and wonderful — it might not be the vibration that you need in your life anymore.

Even when cutting feels aggressive, by doing so, you make space for new beautiful souls to wander into your life. And better yet, you make new space for the same two souls to mature independently and for you to meet again in the future, on another level, with a new relationship.

By nature of existence, we both accumulate and eliminate.

Growth comes with death. Each year, living things cycle through similar processes. We all grow, evolve, shift, and change. What you love and need one year is not the same as the next.

Just as Kate Northrup writes about deadheading as a growth practice, making space is about removing what’s dead in your life so new growth can flourish. It is through this cutting, this elimination, this space-making, that we make room for us to grow beyond our container.

To expand.

Packing light: how we traveled for 3 weeks across Europe (and got on stage!) with only small backpacks.

Packing Light

If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s carrying an over-packed wheely suitcase through crowded subways and city streets up four flights of stairs after a long day of traveling.

Between being cramped in an overnight flight across the Atlantic, negotiating the limited quarters of overhead bin space, and standing sleepy-eyed at the baggage claim carousel, I’m shaking my head no, no, no to anything roller-bag related. By the time I’m in my new room, I’m cursing the loads of stuff I brought—and wishing I had packed less.

Somehow it always seems easier in retrospect to leave stuff behind, but I often get stumped at the packing process. When we set off to Europe for our honeymoon in June, I knew I wanted to travel light. The problem? I also had an on-stage keynote, three cities to be in, and at least one or two lakes and oceans to swim in.

Luckily, my history of taking a few plane rides here and there helped me winnow it down, and my packing process is getting more and more seamless. So I thought I’d geek out and put together a complete list of everything we packed on this trip, including some bonus notes on my favorite tricks for traveling light (and traveling in general) at the end. 

Traveling light.

Heading off on our adventure together + a peek inside the closet once unpacked.

Equipment:

  • Two backpacks (see the first photo at the very top for our backpack sizes).
  • My favorite one-shoulder day-pack. This day pack fits inside the main backpack while traveling (I store my liquids and meds inside of it while traveling for easy finding, then repurpose the bag itself for my day bag after we’ve dropped stuff off at our hotel.) This bag is awesome because it’s a cross-body strap and has a double-zipper feature: zip-top closure, and another zippered enclosure inside. I use the inner zipper pocket to carry my passport and dollars, and wear the back with the pack on my front to thwart pick-pocketers. I bought my bag about ten years ago, but similar bags by Overland are the Isabella, Donner, and Auburn.
  • Two small and large foldable zip-bags by MUJI. I LOVE THESE BAGS. Light, airy, and they compress down to nearly nothing. Great for sorting underwear and dirty laundry — we used them as laundry bags throughout our trip.
  • Also — an airline pillow, but we left this behind at the airport for someone else to use as soon as we got to our destination. In the future, I want to get a blow-up pillow of sorts, but for now I don’t mind grabbing a $10 airline pillow in the airport and then donating it to someone at the end of my trip.

HEADER—700-Bags and storage copy

My favorite bags and carrying cases.

The technology pile:

We were two people and we were both working for part of the trip, so we took an 11-inch Macbook Air. I love this size because it fits on airline seats so easily; other laptops are harder to open up fully to use. The downside is the storage space is small and the tiny screen can make it harder to do all the work you want. We experimented with an iPad and keyboard, but some of the computing functions and editing functions (like having to touch the screen each time you wanted to move the cursor) were a little cumbersome. We ended up sharing the MacBook Air for creation and using the ‘Pad for reading and email.

  • 11-inch Macbook Air + power cord.
  • iPad + keyboard case.
  • Headphone splitter — my husband and I like things at different volumes, and this lets you watch a movie together on an airplane. Confession: we might have watched the entire season of Orange is The New Black on our iPad while traveling.
  • 30-way power adaptor with 2 USB plugs. The Tripwell World Travel Adaptor is my favorite international travel plug; it covers almost all countries and you can charge three devices with it at a time (one plug and two USB inputs).
  • Power cords + cubes. We brought one kindle charger and one phone charger, plus an additional USB-to-plug cube.
  • Cell phones as cameras. We bought an international data plan for one of our phones to use as a back-up map, and then left our phones on airplane mode for the most part; instead, we used our phones as cameras while we traveled.
  • Kindle + kindle charger (only the cord; words with a square USB plug)
  • Iphone + charger (cleared of space-hogging apps and used the phone to take photos with throughout the trip).

Clothing: how do you dress for traveling, hiking, walking, stage-ing, and exploring?

For clothing options, I picked pieces that were versatile and easy to pack. Here’s a sampler of my favorite outfits and the things I wore every day for three weeks:

HEADER—700-four outfits

Shoes:

The biggest problem for me is often shoes — ladies’ high heels do nothing for my feet. I narrowed it down to three pairs, and wore one set on the ride over and back.

  • One pair of Teva sandals (my favorite walking sandals of all time — extremely comfortable and very versatile);
  • A pair of walking keds (I use them for running even though the aren’t really running shoes — really, the idea that you have to have a certain outfit to run is a little silly — you can run in jeans and sandals if you want to).
  • The trick here was the stage shoes — I couldn’t afford to carry a pair of heels for a 3-week adventure, so I brought a second pair of walking shoes, my bright orange loafers. They looked nice enough on stage, and still let me go city walking in them later.
  • Optional: a pair of yoga-toes socks. In lieu of a travel yoga mat, I bring sticky gloves and socks, and use those to provide salamander-like-grip on the floor to bend, twist, and fold to my hearts’ content. (Vibrams are also a great shoe to do yoga poses in, I’ve found).

Pants:

Believe it or not, I actually had quite a few pants options — they roll up small and tight and don’t wrinkle, so I had two long options (for cold nights) and two short options, plus a pair of athletic stretchy shorts.

  • One pair of skinny, stretchy jeans. These were my “stage pants.” Nice enough to look good on stage, comfortable enough to wear anywhere. And do yoga in. Because, yoga.
  • A pair of yoga pants. Because, obviously. Wear these on the plane, wear ’em when it’s cold. Wear them ALL THE TIME BECAUSE I LOVE THEM.
  • A loose pair of “Aladdin” pants — breezy, comfortable, below-the-knee length loose pants. Perfect for hot days, the beach, and anything. Cover you up enough (I’m not a fan of shorts all the time — sticking to seats; feeling too naked; the like).
  • One pair of everyday shorts. For the beach and touristy days.
  • One pair of athletic shorts. First, for running in, and second, because I wear these under dresses to flip upside down in handstands! Safety first — I mean, handstands first.

HEADER—700-traveling light-wine and alley

Boat neck black shirt works for nights out; the alleyways of Barcelona, one of the cities we got to stay in.

Tops:

  • 3/4 boat neck black rayon-cotton t-shirt. (Long sleeves and high neck make me feel modest and keeps the sun off my skin and back.) Great for anything from a date night out to a day travel to a shirt to cover-up at the beach. Rayon/cotton blend dries overnight. Black hides stains and sweat.
  • Long-sleeve Quick-Dry Gray Athletic shirt by Gap body. This layered underneath a jacket keeps me nice and warm; the long-sleeve by itself is small enough to stuff in my daypack and warm enough for anything 45 degrees and higher.
  • One fancy blouse that’s crumple-free from Ann Taylor. (See photo, above). This wrap shirt was my stage shirt + going out fancy at night shirt; it was wrinkle-free and easy to wash and wear.
  • A red billowy top. Pairs well with leggings, looks great going out. Halter-style.
  • A tiny tank top for sleeping in and going to the beach.
  • An exercise top that’s quick-dry for running and casual wear with jeans.
  • One dress, which doubled as a cover-up and a second top — in a bright color, of course, to make me happy. (See: purple dress, in photos).

Orange shoes in stage action!

Other things:

  • Bandana — I like to have a bandana on hand and I often use it as a way to wrap up my underwear so I don’t yank out my computer from my packpack and have a pair of undies come flying out on the train and hit a passenger.
  • Hat — I carry a baseball cap for days when showers are too far between, or sunshine
  • Sunglasses. Because, well, sun.

Rain gear + jackets:

  • The jacket du jour: my favorite jacket of all time, a light black lululemon zip-up jacket with zip-up pockets on both sides (the better to hold my keys and wallet with). When it’s paired with a long-sleeve shirt, it’s super warm. Great for over-air conditioned airplanes and busses, unexpected late nights, and days that drop into the 40’s and 50’s.
  • Rain gear: it rained upon landing in Berlin, and the backwards airports meant we walked from plane to bus, and then bus to terminal. We bought two ponchos, but I think I may buy a real lightweight rain jacket in the near future because the rain jackets made us look like hunchbacks and total tourists. (Looking like tourists was not the goal — next time, we’ll leave them behind).

HEADER—700-ponchos and squats

We look like dorky druids in our ponchos; while traveling I love my stretch-jeans and a kindle to practice my squats while catching up on my reading. (You can’t take my yoga love outta me when I travel.)

Planning for warmth + some notes on the magical properties of a scarf for all-season traveling:

We traveled in temperatures from low 40’s to high 90’s (Fahrenheit), so we had to plan well enough to stay warm — and also cool. My favorite travel item might be a scarf. A long, wool-based scarf can transform into a hundred things. Scarfs double as pillows, blankets, and head-wraps: a blanket when you’re cold; a head wrap when you want to bury yourself in darkness while on an overnight flight. They also can be knotted and tied to create a quick second handbag if you buy something — all you do is wrap the scarf around your object, tie it in a knot, and then bring the two ends up and tie in another knot to create a carrying satchel to transport whatever object you’ve acquired.

HEADER—700-scarf

The magical properties of a scarf. 

For the warmest days (when it hit 90F) — I wore shorts and a small shirt or tank-top. On the coldest days (it was 40F and raining when we arrived in Berlin), I wore a combination of my long-sleeved tech shirt, my black jacket, a scarf, and, at times, the rain poncho.

I also love to travel with wool socks because keeping your head + feet warm makes your entire body temperature rise. So, for warmth:

  • One pair of slim wool socks.
  • My favorite scarf.
  • Layers (jacket, long-sleeved t-shirt).

HEADER—700-zurich barcelona

Toiletries, medicines, make up + other lady stuff: 

Traveling and incorporating full makeup on stage can add an entire extra travel compartment — and a lot of unnecessary weight — for the road. I knew I wanted to backpack for two weeks and only needed makeup for one day. I use a clean contact lens case (they are GREAT travel tools, see my bonus tips at the end for my favorite tricks) and I put a little bit of the makeup I need (foundation, concealer, smudge blush) in the micro-compartments for travel. I also carried an eyebrow pencil, a compact, mascara, and some red lipstick. The entire bag compressed down to a small ziplock.

When packing makeup and toiletries, I try to take all of the big bottles and make them as small as possible. The smaller the bottle, the smaller the pack. Other things I love:

  • MUJI also has a very small one-ounce spritzer, which you can use for super-mini hairspray and perfume doses if you want. Most hotels carry this kind of stuff, so It’s not necessary if you just want to borrow some.
  • The “feminine bag.” Ladies, when you travel for three weeks, you know it’s likely going to happen. I pack a reusable carry-case that has “first aid” on the outside of it, and I keep a stash of all the feminine goods I’ll need in there + any other essentials for an emergency kit. Not every country has the feminine products you’re used to, so bring ’em so you’re not surprised. 

Let’s talk drugs: sometimes while traveling, countries don’t have things that might help (anti-nausea, etc). I always travel with a few bonus tablets of each of the following in a tiny ziplock bag, as an emergency stash.

  • Benadryl.
  • Vic’s Vapor Rub — smear a little into one of those contact lens cases. (Bonus: get a six-pack with six different colored lids so you can keep everything identified).
  • Some Advil, Vitamin C and Vitamin B, and a couple of cough drops.
  • Small nailclippers. Two weeks without nail clippers and I’m picking at my hands like a hen at a feed.
  • Bug-spray. Mosquitos love me. My nickname in the woods (and in warm, muggy, urban areas) is “Juicy Blood” to all those terrible nats, critters and skeeters that like to chomp on me. For me, it’s a necessity.
  • Small bottle of hand lotion. Hotels usually have this, but I’m Vata-based in my constitution and dry skin happens as quick as I can say good morning. Dry airplanes suck the moisture out of me, so I drink water and lotion up + stay hydrated.

HEADER—700-stairs

Other favorite travel tricks I love: 

  • Vicks Vapor Rub is great for clearing out the sinuses and opening up the air passageways — and it’s also great when you’re stuck on a smelly bus with a bathroom-gone-foul. If you’ve ever taken a 4-hour bus ride with a nasty bathroom port-o smell, you know what I’m talking about. My favorite trick? Rub a swipe of Vicks or another scent (lavender and lemon grass are favorites) across the bottom of your nose. This blocks the offending smell and lets you breathe in peace for the rest of your trip.
  • Earplugs. I love earplugs — I keep a pair in almost every pocket that I travel with. Stick ’em in to avoid the overly-chatty pilot; stick ’em in to fall asleep; stick ’em in to drown out obnoxious chatterers and enjoy some stillness and quiet. I used to live next to a hospital, and these were lifesavers for dealing with the constant drown of wailing sirens.
  • Bring a facemask and socks on the airplane in your carry-on luggage. Some airlines give them to you, others don’t. I love covering up my face (or wrap that scarf around your head), and socks keep me warm enough to doze off to sleep.
  • Contact Lens cases are brilliant carrying devices. Use ’em to put a bit of lotion, vaseline, or wash if you only need a few drops of stuff. I put my concealer and makeup in ’em because I only really put on my face for the stage days; after that I was back to the hippy-dippy freedom of sandals and yoga pants.

I also like to pre-pack some food when I travel.

I also like to bring a few non-produce based food items on my trips. I’m mildly hypoglycemic and I don’t love eating gluten, so I buy 10 (or 20) of my favorite food bars, stick ’em in a bag, and carry them around. (I prefer the nut based KIND bars as a travel treat). I also like to bring about a pound of almonds.

While traveling, I’ll stick a bite in my bag so I can go on a bike ride and not have to wait in tourist lines (or spend $20-$30 unnecessarily) on lunch—and I’ll eat a bar or two and have a bottle of water. $1 lunch? Yes, please. A handful of nuts, a banana at a local market or bodega, and I can last until dinner — and then I splurge and get my main meal of the day. (This is also how I like to keep food budgets cheap during the day while still enjoying and savoring the local cuisine over decadent, lengthy evening meals).

Other international travel reminders:

This list isn’t comprehensive, but a couple of things to remember before you travel internationally: Photocopy your passport and email it to yourself so you have a digital copy. Also, you might have someone at home base have a copy for you. Know how much money you have in cash, and accessible through ATM.

Bring a small phrasebook of language notes for the country you’re traveling to. (You can download Lonely Planet books to your kindle, or rip out your language pages from the books to take just a few sheets with you).

In retrospect, however, I would have brought one more thing.

I love traveling light: all of my clothes fit on two hangers and in one stack on the shelves, and it’s both strange and delightful to have my clothing take up so little space.

Each time I travel, however, I learn one more item that I either overlooked or could have left behind.

One late night, nearly two weeks into our trip, I was sitting on the couch after a long day with my husband. Somehow after close examination — perhaps a few flights seated inches from each other did the trick — I realized that this man can grow an impressive unibrow when it’s left unattended. While laying in bed in our hostel, we decided that I might usefully help hand-pluck each of the offenders one by one.

I looked up and realized that I was in Barcelona, grooming my man’s face, and decided we had one more item to add to the the packing list.

Next time I’ll bring tweezers.

How to practice saying no.

I walked into the restaurant and something didn’t feel right. The prices were too high, the waiter a little stuffy and dismissive, the air a little cold.

I can’t tell you exactly what it was, but I do know that my body was decidedly uncomfortable. While none of the particulars was enough to make a fuss—should I complain about the temperature?—I knew the minute after I walked in and sat down that it wasn’t right.

Social norms would cue me not to make a fuss and to stay where I am. Cognitive dissonance—the idea that we do things in accordance with our beliefs and decisions, to support our earlier actions—would have me stay put because I had already chosen to eat here, and leaving would mean changing my mind.

But my intuition, that feeling in my gut, in my body, knew. Intuition isn’t perfect. Sometimes it takes a moment to settle. Mostly, it takes a willingness to listen, and to listen closely. After being seated, I placed the napkin in my lap and looked across at my man’s face. I could tell he felt equally at odds, if not more so. I leaned over and asked him:

“You okay with this place? I’m not feeling it.”

A look of relief immediately washed across his face. “Yes,” he replied, “I don’t want to be here, either.”

We had already placed our drink orders, and it took another ten minutes to get a waiter back to our table. At that point, I looked at our waiter directly in the eye, smiled, and said, “We’re not staying for dinner after all. Here’s my card, please run us for the drinks, and that’s all we’d like tonight.”

We enjoyed a few sips of our beverages and pushed back our chairs. Within a few minutes, we were gone.

The power of saying no — and the need to practice it.

Sometimes you just need to say no.

No is a muscle that needs to be exercised just as often as yes.

No isn’t always a voice that jumps up and shouts its way into your ear. Sometimes “no” is a subtle whisper that’s only heard if you’ll listen for it.

No, it says, I don’t want to be here. I need you to make space. I need you to rest. 

The small times we say no is a practice in listening. When we practice listening, we tap into the power of our own intuition. Stopping to say no in line at the coffee shop and say, “Actually, I don’t want this coffee anymore; can you gift it to someone else?” is you exercising your right to listen—to yourself.

Saying no is a practice of listening.

When we practice the power of saying no, we build an inner strength of tapping into our intuition. There is a listening that comes from our own gut. Our own bodies already know, if we’re in tune. “I don’t want to be here right now,” your belly might be telling you. “This isn’t the right person for me, I know it,” your body might know intuitively. Itchy skin, wiggly fingers, tired eyes, disinterested neurons—they know.

Sometimes “no” shows up in strange ways (and why it’s okay to change your mind).

Saying no—and making any decision—is skill-building exercise. I don’t always know that I want to say no until after I make a decision — and I realize that now I know what I want.

We don’t always know everything in advance. It’s okay to say no in the middle.

Sometimes I say no and realize later that I wanted to say yes after all. Sometimes I say yes and realize that I wished I had said no earlier. We don’t always have all the information—if we knew how life would turn out, living wouldn’t be so extraordinary. Life is a series of experiments. Sometimes you say yes, and you learn that no would have been wonderful.

In those instances, write your experience into your mind and body. Remember to tell yourself, “Ahh yes, Sarah, here’s a moment when you can remember that no is an answer you’re allowed to give.”

You can also change your mind.

Changing your mind—or rather, making up your mind after receiving more information—is something that we can do. You’re allowed to change your mind after you’ve been seated at a restaurant. You can leave a party after you’ve walked in through the door—by hugging the hostess and saying, “I absolutely love that I got to see you, and I love you dearly, and I need you to know that I’m so tired that I need to get off my feet.”

You are allowed to not know. You are allowed to listen. You are allowed to say no. You are allowed to change your mind.

The power of yes can pull us into commitment that feels overwhelming. Alexandra Franzen has an exceptional resource out right now – a wee book full of scripts on saying no, and when and how to say no. My favorite? Scripts for saying no just because you don’t want to, whether it’s a client you don’t feel like working with, a conference you don’t want to keynote at, or a project you’re too tired to give your time to.

She even has a script for — and I love this so much — friends you just don’t want to spend time with at the moment. Beautiful, wonderful, smart friends that it’s okay to say no to.

You are allowed to say no.

No to clients, no to friends, no to freebies, no to time you don’t want to spend that way.

How to practice saying no:

Start small. The smallest, most insignificant things are the places we begin to cultivate our habits. Say no to the creamer you don’t actually like; put down the coffee once you realize you don’t want it after all. Leave an event early if you’re disinclined to go; say no to the television late at night when your body whispers, Hey You, let’s go to sleep.

Iterate. If you don’t know what you want, experiment with a new response. If your typical response is affirmative, test a small no and see how it feels. (Caution: this can become really fun as you unleash a reprise of your inner two-year old.)

Be kind and generous. The word “no” can still be thoughtful, kind, and sweet.“Gosh, love, I love everything about this event of yours, but I’m overbooked at the moment so I need to say no. I know how important RSVP’s are so I wanted to give you mine even though I won’t get to see your face this time.”  The word “no” can be exercised graciously and lovingly.

What can you say no to?

Why are Stories So Important?

The world is overcrowded with information.

We’re wired to tell stories because it’s how we make sense of the world around us. Stories let us distill large, complex ideas and important messages into sticky, memorable pieces that we can carry forward with us in our minds. In the absence of a person or a phenomenon, we tell a story about what we saw and who we met.

Telling the right story about you and your business can be a big challenge–online, in person, or through social media. How do you decide what story to tell? And how do you know it’s the right one?

A story is what you take with you. We don’t keep lists and facts and essays in our minds; rather, we carry relationships, connections, and (sometimes false) ideas about correlation and causation.

A story is how we understand the world.

We’re wired to consolidate complex information into pieces we can carry—like little suitcases for the brain.

The test of a great story is what people remember about you when you stop talking. Listen for what people say about you (or your company) after you’ve left.

If you have the chance, listen to how people introduce you; it’s an inside look into how people remember you and your business. Just like ideas, viruses, and people–stories have lives, and how far they spread relates to how sticky they are. The life of a story spreads when the story is good.

In general, this means that simple stories are better — the gift of a story is not capturing every single moment, although detail is important — it’s in giving the listener something that they can enjoy and remember.

What stories are you telling — or what stories are being told about you and your business?


Doors are now open for the summer session of the Writer’s Workshop, now open for early registration! Join us for a six-week program designed to kickstart your writing habit—and discover secrets of storytelling, narrative form, and powerful writing. Early registration closes May 25th and classes start June 30th.

 

 

A little note on letting go…

Clean rain.

Clear your plate.

Let go of things that don’t serve you. That don’t inspire you. Give up things that aren’t working.

Release.

Let out a deep sigh. Pause.

Inhale. Exhale.

Take a shower. Dunk in a waterfall. Wash it clean, letting water drip down around you, pour over your head. Feel the world rinse you off, like a fresh Spring rainfall sweeping the winter grime off of the sidewalks and into the gutters. Visualize the matter that you’re hanging on to washing down around your body, swirling in the drain, running down the gutter. Pour it out.

Wipe the slate clear. Clean your desk. Organize your pen box. Throw out all the dry ones. While you’re at it, get rid of all the ones you don’t like, because you don’t like them. Revel in the satisfaction of a pen that works just the way you want it to.

Sweep off all the old magazines that you “should” read and take that pile of reading that’s weighing you down and put them back on the shelves. No need to burden yourself with more left unfinished.

Finish something, quickly. Or better yet, get rid of it altogether. Say no to projects that don’t serve you, and strike up the courage to say no to things you said yes to—but deep down, you don’t want to do. Say no right away, rather than waiting until later to cancel.[tweetable hashtag=”#no #decisions #power @sarahkpeck”] Because you don’t want to is enough of a reason.[/tweetable]

Say no to things that come up unexpectedly, unless they release, inspire, and lift your soul. [tweetable hashtag=”#yes #letgo #delight @sarahkpeck”]Say yes to things that delight.[/tweetable] Remember what fun feels like. Giggle inside your house on the couch with markers and notebooks if that’s what does it for you.

Make space for you. For you to breathe, to dance, to play, to relax.

Make an orgasm happen, and relish in the aftermath by sinking into the pillows. Satisfy yourself.

Sweat it out. Burn it off.

Let go. Clear up. Spring Clean.

It’s okay to rest. It’s okay to let go. It’s okay to release.