Uncertainty Sucks

There is one thing that's certain:
my nieces are the cutest things ever. 

I’m not a fan of uncertainty.  Never have been.

Even as a kid, if I was told at the last minute to Get in the car, we’re headed to a birthday party!, I’d FREAK OUT.  

Me: But I didn't know about this!  It’s not on my calendar!
Mom: You’re 6.  Calm down.

I’m a planner.  If it were up to me, I’d know exactly what was going to happen every minute of every day for the rest of my life.

Having certainty gives me peace.  I like knowing exactly what’s going to happen next.

Except I don’t always know.  Because life doesn’t work that way.  

The truth is, there will always be uncertainty.  

So, I've come to a challenging conclusion: I might as well find peace.

See, I originally set out to write 10 Things You Can Do To Be At Peace.  I ended up staring at my computer for a long time.  Then I attempted what turned out to be truly horrible writing (Smile! Go hiking! Hold a baby!).

I kept coming back to one thing.   Pray.

(Maybe you're howling, Cop out! and rolling your eyes.  I get it, I was annoyed too.  Hello, you said 10 Things!  Come on, Kekuna, you're better than this!) 

But I couldn’t.  Because that was my best answer.  Prayer.

Let me be clear that my prayers won't be found in any church pew anytime soon.

Because I pray boldly authentic, heart-gushing, crazy-time prayers.

I mean, sometimes they're sweet and cuddly: God, that sunset was freaking GORGEOUS! You are so creative! Thank you for all this beauty! Amen!

But sometimes, my prayers are gut-wrenching hail storms: God this SUCKS and I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO and I’m TERRIFIED and and and...I HATE this!  But. I trust you. 

Trust. 

Trust that has brought me peace.   

I used to think anxiety was a normal part of life.  I was wrong.

Thank God for that.

Peace begins with a smile.  - Mother Teresa

We can never obtain peace in the outer world until we make peace with ourselves.  -Dalai Lama

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. -Philippians 4:6-7

What the Heck is Going On?

I saw this on my morning walk the other day and just
stood there, completely mesmerized.  What a great
reminder that in darkness, there's always, always light. 

I was going to tell you a story about my 6am morning walk, where I was worrying about 457 legitimately worrisome things, when all of a sudden I felt something super sticky splat on my right ear, which turned out to be not bird poop, but something worse: tree sap (tree sap?!) from a pine tree I was walking under (did you know sap just, like, falls from trees?!) which has never happened to me before in the history of my life, and it took me a good HOUR to scrub the unbelievably sticky crap off my ear AND out of my hair because, guess what, friends, soap doesn’t do P. Diddy squat except create an exceptionally sticky paste, so I had to Google how to remove tree sap from your skin and hair and who knew but apparently the answer is cooking oil, so I frantically searched my kitchen cupboards for the best smelling cooking oil I could find, and now the tree sap is thankfully gone but I smell like a Tuscan olive oil-basted christmas tree as I make my way to a business lunch.

I guess I needed to get that off my chest.

Clearly, there’s a lot going on in my head.  And no wonder- there’s a lot going on in the world.  That’s why, apart from my little tree sap story, I had a hard time sharing something light and fluffy. 

There’s a lot of sad and scary stuff happening.  Plane crashes, genocide, hurricanes, suicide. 

A friend shared with me that’s she’s just angry.  I get it, because I’m confused, upset, worried.  

The world can be depressing.

So one option is to hide myself from the world, and hole up in my apartment where it’s clean and safe and quiet.  I don’t have to shower, I can lay around in my bathrobe, work from my couch, order a large Dominos Pizza. (Not that I’ve ever done that.  This is purely hypothetical).

But that’s not life.

I wish I had answers.  But I don’t.

So instead, I’m trying to see this as an opportunity. 

To love.

To be kind.

To lend a hand to a stranger.

To listen when a friend needs to talk. 

To be peaceful amidst chaos.

To be light when the world is dark.

To see the good when it’s so easy to see the bad.

To not lose hope.

I choose to combat the craziness- with love, light and hope.  I invite you to join me.   

But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint.  -Isaiah 40:31

We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope. - Martin Luther King, Jr.

Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness. - Desmond Tutu

Hope is important because it can make the present moment less difficult to bear.  If we believe that tomorrow will be better, we can bear a hardship today. - Thich Nhat Hanh

I Can't Believe I Just Did That

You guys, I ate sooo healthy at this conference in North Carolina.
I mean, look at all those veggies.  (Confession: I strategically cropped
this picture so you can't see my absolutely monstrous dessert plate). 

Oh heck no, I argued with myself.  Absolutely NOT.  Do something— anything—else. 

I had just settled in at Gate 49, a piping hot Starbucks coffee in one hand, fully-charged iPad in the other.  I was looking forward to reading my recently downloaded book before boarding.

However.  

Relaxing was pretty darn impossible when the two gate agents were playing a game called I Swear I Hate My Job More Than You.

“I have to turn around the Miami flight in 20 minutes?!? Are you kidding me??!”  barked Mean Lady. 

“What do you want ME to do about it!?” shouted Grouchy Guy.

I had encountered Cranky #1 and Cranky #2 earlier when I wanted to catch another flight.

Standing at the desk, I waited while the two of them tried very hard to ignore me.  30 seconds…1 minute…no acknowledgement.  I finally piped up, “Excuse me, can someone help me with the earlier flight to Dallas?” 

Two sets of irritated eyes darted in my direction.  

“It’s FULL,” Grouchy screeched.

Allllllrighty then.  

I grabbed a seat and had started to read my book when an incredibly annoying thought entered my head: You should buy them coffee.  

I jolted.  Where the heck did that come from?

Then I remembered a story that a speaker at my conference had shared: She and her family had vowed to do one nice thing for a stranger every day for a year.  

At the time I thought, Wow what a fantastic idea. I'll get right on that!  

And then, I ran into my first opportunity. Which sucked. 

You know, I told myself, it is only 10am.  Surely I’ll have plenty of other opportunities to be nice.  

But the idea continued to gnaw at me.  And I realized, I was curious.  I mean, what would they do?

So I slowly got up, and made my way back to The Desk of Anger.

Mean Lady saw me approaching and shouted, “ARE YOU GOING TO MIAMI?”

“Um, no,” I said in a teeny tiny little voice. 

Grouchy Guy turned his head in our direction.

I cleared my throat.  “I was wondering…if I could buy you coffee?” My voice had gone up 3 octaves.

They stared.  

5 seconds went by as they pondered my offer, then suddenly Grouchy snapped back to reality.  

“Oh. No,” he said with a confused expression.  And they both went back to work. 

Half of me was relieved.  The other half was pissed.  Um, I was trying to do something nice for you and you couldn't even say “No THANK YOU”?  RUDE. 

I pretended that’s exactly what I expected (why hello fellow passengers who now think I'm freaking crazy) as I returned to my seat to read my book until it was time to board.  

When my group was called, I filed into line and noticed that Grouchy was checking tickets.  Oh great, I thought, he gets one last chance to make me feel like an idiot. 

It was finally my turn.  I handed him my ticket, and in a last-ditch effort, I looked straight into his eyes and said, “Thank you, sir.”

Then something miraculous happened.

He winked.  

A-HA! 

Look, I have no idea if my effort made any lasting impact.  It’s possible that he forgot about our interaction 2 seconds later. But, maybe he didn't.

Kindness is a beautiful thing.  And a little too rare in our world.  I'll confess that sometimes I'm downright shocked by an unexpected smile from a stranger. 

It bedazzles my mind to think how these little gestures could change lives. 

So I'm continuing this little experiment.  Will you join me?  I’d love to hear from you- please keep me posted on what happens in the comments below. 

Don’t forget to be kind to strangers, for some who have done this have entertained angels without realizing it! - Hebrews 13:2

Smile at strangers and you just might change a life.  - Steve Maraboli

Does Everyone Know What They're Doing But Me?

The Path of Life.  Yes, I'm in a cheesy mood.
On another note, how cute is my dog?!?

I don’t know about you, but my career path has gone exactly as planned.  

A straight shot down the Road to Success.  No deviations or surprises.  Just perfection.

(Oh gosh that’s funny.  Excuse me a moment as I laugh my little butt off.  Whew.  Ok back to my point).

Hardly.

As a young girl, I had some admirable goals: princess, fashion designer, Ambassador to France, and my personal favorite:  Crayola Crayon Namer. (That’s a thing, right?)

Instead, I've danced a little do-si-do and a loop-de-loo: 

• Subway Sandwich Artist (where I quit after 2 hours)
• Coffee Cart Barista (where I became addicted to Frappuccinos)
• Senate Intern (where I conducted delightful tours of the Capitol)
• Campus Switchboard Operator (where I refused to give a reporter the number of our football team’s kicker after he botched a PAT that resulted in a loss to Nebraska)
• Sales at MTV (where I planned fun parties, and partied a lot)
• Marketing at Proactiv (where I traveled the world)
• VP at a start-up skin care company (where I lost my job after a year)

In other words, an extremely strategic and brilliantly crafted career path [insert more laughter here].  

Not that my tasting menu approach was a bad thing, because many experiences quickly taught me what I didn’t want to do (I’m talking to you, Subway).  

I’ve spent most of my life chasing my definition of success: the right title, loads of money, glory and fame.

And after years of achieving and never being satisfied, it made me wonder:

What the heck am I doing with my life?

After years of wandering, I’ve finally figured it out.  I’ve realized, it isn’t about me.

I believe we’re all here on this earth for a reason.  We’re all born with a unique purpose that God instilled in each of us, and intends for us to use for good. 

Friends who have seen me during some very dark days, have recently told me that there’s something different about me.  The truth is, now that I’ve connected with what I’m meant to do, I can’t help but radiate joy.  

There is beautiful relief in knowing that my life has meaning.  As does my next door neighbor, the screaming baby on my flight, the Whole Foods cashier. 

And you.    

Have you found it? I’d love to hear from you. Please share in the comments. 

If you’re alive, there’s a purpose for your life. - Rick Warren

Learn to get in touch with the silence within yourself, and know that everything in life has purpose. There are no mistakes, no coincidences, all events are blessings given to us to learn from. - Elizabeth Kubler-Ross

Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. - Matthew 5:16

Who Are Your Monkeys?

One of my monkeys gave this to me.
His name is George.  I'm super clever like that. 

I took (another) life-changing seminar this past week (Hello, My Name is Kalei and I’m addicted to seminars).

Since my name is not exactly easy to pronounce, without fail, these events begin with us all playing The Name Game.  For example:

New Person: Hey there [glances at name tag]…Kay-lee!

Me: Hello New Person! It’s actually pronounced [slower than honey] KUH...LAY. 

New Person: Got it, Kahlua. 

(This little scenario, which I encounter multiple times a day, is why I answer to everything from Kayla to Kool-Aid).

This particular seminar was completely AH- MAZING.

The content was incredibly powerful.  However, what excited me more was The People.  Because of the nature of the seminar, I found people just like me (this idea may be completely terrifying to my family, who I can imagine are thinking: um, we can handle just one Kalei at a time). 

Strangely, the word that came to mind while I was there was Fellowship, a churchy word that makes me think of stuffy potlucks and overflowing rice cookers (and cookies. Mmmm. Cookies.  Peanut Butter Cookies.  Ok where was I…). In this context, to me it meant learning together, listening, loving, and supporting each other in spite of our humanness.  

It was another reminder to me that hey, we’re all in this thing together. 

And apparently I think I’m pretty special, because I struggle daily with trying to do life by myself.  

And then I’m reminded, in one way or another, that no, in fact, I am not Wonder Woman.  

I need my monkeys.  

Say what??  (Bear with me.  I know I'm all over the place today but I promise I actually do have a point).

I attended a (you guessed it) seminar earlier this year where I heard a story that really struck a chord*.  Scientists put a monkey in a cage, and then terrified the crap out of it- flashing lights, horrifying sounds, the works.  They measured his stress levels, which, not surprisingly, were off the charts.   

Then they put the monkey’s friend in the cage with him.  They repeated the experiment.  

The monkey’s stress levels were reduced in half. 

It’s a simple experiment, with two profound lessons:

1. Sometimes, our buddy doesn’t need to do anything but be there with us when our cage is rattled.  

2. Choose the right monkeys. 

After hearing that story, I made sure to tell my monkeys how much I appreciated them.  

Perhaps your conversation can go something like this, but slightly less awkward.  (This is a completely hypothetical situation of course): 

Um so I learned this story about monkeys and um…I was wondering, Will You Be My Monkey?

The thing is, we were never meant to do life alone.

We all need our monkeys.  

Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down. - Oprah Winfrey

Fellowship is a place of grace, where mistakes aren't rubbed in but rubbed out. Fellowship happens when mercy wins over justice.  -Rick Warren

Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. - Romans 12:10

*The Monkey Story was shared by Dr. Henry Cloud, and I believe is included in his book, Boundaries for Leaders.  

Believe the Best

This is what bread is supposed to look like (I'm talking
to you, American Airlines): fresh, soft, warm, and swimming
in butter-- glorious, glorious butter.   

My recent flight from Paris to Dallas is now legendary.  I wish I could say this was because I had deep, thought-provoking conversations with fellow passengers while nibbling on exotic French cheeses and watching a marathon of English-subtitled French noir films. 

Oh no. 

It was a 10 hour hell ride.  

It started off well enough: I arrived with plenty of time, was whisked through to my gate (heads up: telling the French how much you love their country will expedite your airport security experience), shopped leisurely at the wonderful boutiques (mostly at Laduree, which sells my favorite, ridiculously beautiful and outrageously priced candles), and sat down to a lovely farewell breakfast of vegetable quiche and deliciously strong French coffee. 

Ahhh.  La vie est belle. 

I then boarded the plane.  I noticed as I sat down that my area was surrounded by men.  Man on my left, man on my right…you get the picture.  I didn’t think too much about this at the time, other than, huh, there are lots of men (deep thoughts, people).

Shortly after takeoff, we were served lunch, which included limp lettuce and a sad little tomato, a wheat-flavored rock, and “chicken”.  

A few hours later, I started feeling a little off.  And then, pretty uncomfortable.  

Which turned into OHMYGOD I THINK I’M GONNA THROW UP.

All of a sudden, I bolted out of my seat and sprinted to the back of the plane, where an all-knowing flight attendant ushered me into the bathroom.  I barely made it. 

As I sat back down, I noticed a few curious stares from people in my row.  I smiled reassuringly (Oh that?  I just really needed a 7-Up) and returned to my movie.

I was hoping I’d feel better.  Unfortunately, I continued to feel worse. 

An hour prior to landing, the flight attendant/detective appeared and handed me a giant trash bag, “just in case.”  Not surprisingly, every eye within a 10 row radius was on me.   I just smiled, said “thank you” and to comfort everyone on the plane, added: “I’m sure I won’t need it.”

Famous. Last. Words.

As we began landing, stuck in seat belt hell, with nowhere to go without a US Marshall on my tail, I emptied my last three days worth of food into the giant trash bag. 

I was slightly terrified imagining the disapproving  faces of all the men I would encounter once I pulled my head out of the bag.  I assumed they'd be disgusted, horrified.

My first thought: I want my mommy!  

My second thought: I wish I was sitting by women.  At least they’d help take care of me.

I was in for a shock. 

Jean-Pierre on my left, in his thick French accent: Would yoo like some Kleenex? 

Me: Oui.

Jean-Pierre with the most compassionate eyes I’ve ever seen: And perhaps some mints?

Me: Oui.

Having arrived at the gate, I stood up to collect my things, when Francois on my right reached out to rub my back and, very concerned, asked: 

So, you are ok, yes?

Me: Oui.

After customs, Jean-Claude, who was sitting next to Francois, bee-lined for me and asked:

May I offer you a Wet Nap?

Me: Oui.

At this point, I was FLOORED.  These lovely gentlemen could not have been kinder.

I felt a bit convicted.  

It’s so easy to believe the bad, that I forget to believe the best.  

And that’s a tragedy.  Because there’s so much good in this world.  

Sometimes I have to seek it out.  But sometimes, it’s sitting right next to me.

Love chooses to believe the best about people. It gives them the benefit of the doubt. It refuses to fill in the unknowns with negative assumptions. And when our worst hopes are proven to be true, love makes every effort to deal with them and move forward. As much as possible, love focuses on the positive. - Stephen Kendrick

*Yes, I made up the French guys' names.  Who knows, maybe they're true.

The Secret to Being a Good Human

You have no idea how many awkward selfies I took
on this trip. It's seriously staggering.
What am I doing here? Oh gosh, who knows.
Also, in reviewing my trip pictures, it's become
clear that I have a huge obsession with the Eiffel Tower.  

One of the things I love most about traveling is the people I meet—the fascinating, crazy, annoying, lovable people. I just vacationed in France so I’ve been on a shipload (why no, Thesaurus.com that’s not what I meant) of planes, trains and automobiles, meeting lots and lots of people in the process. 

While I didn’t realize this when boarding my first flight, it became clear to me that on this trip I had a very important job:  I was there to listen.  To strangers.  Tell their stories. 

Here’s what I mean: 

The Australians:  To my right, I struck up a conversation with a Mom and daughter traveling from Australia to Tampa, to seek special treatment for Lymes Disease, which isn’t recognized as a disease in Australia.  Mom was exhausted and plenty frustrated but overall in good spirits, considering she was leaving her job as a cattle rancher/teacher for 3 months to attend the $75,000 treatment her 26 year old now-wheelchair-bound daughter needed to recover from her debilitating illness.  

How do I know all this?  I listened.  I asked questions here and there, but really, all I did was sit there as this woman poured out her heart to me.

The Gangbanger: To my left, a man I was almost too scared to even say hello to.  When this  short and stocky, frowning, black hoodie-wearing Hispanic man sat down, he was listening to his iPhone through giant headphones.  Peeking from underneath his hoodie, I could see tattoos spreading from all over his body— from his chest and neck onto his face, from his arms all the way to the tips of his fingers.  Everything about him said: Go Away.

Not gonna lie, I judged.  But I was also really, really curious.

Because he kept texting.  And every keystroke highlighted letters tattooed on his fingers and ohmygosh what the heck does this tattoo say?  Of course, with my judgey-ness  in overdrive, I assumed he was texting his drug dealer.

I decided to carefully, out of the corner of my Lasik-enhanced eye, glance at what he was writing.  

Boy was I in for a shock. 

Scary Guy: Baby, I miss you so much already. 
Not Drug Lord but Probably Girlfriend?: Honey I love you.
Scary Guy Who’s Apparently a Giant Teddy Bear:  Baby you’re the best, you know I love you too. 

Um.  WHAT??!

So now dying to talk to this guy, I turn to him and say Hi.  He was a little startled, but said Hi back.  I asked him why he was heading to Dallas, and then…the floodgates opened.  

Friends, he would not stop talking.  About his job with FedEx, where he makes good money, but it’s bittersweet because he travels a lot and it takes him away from his wife, who is the Love of His Life.  No, that’s not strong enough.  She’s the Sun and the Moon and Stars and he would Die For Her.  No joke, this is all coming out of his mouth.  About the music he listens to, which is all OLDIES LOVE SONGS.  I kid you not, he actually made me write down a bunch of OLDIES LOVE SONGS to look up on YouTube.  

Besides listening, my other big lesson, as you can probably imagine: hello, judge much?  I had one of the most surprising, delightful conversations I’ve ever had, with a man I was almost too scared to say hello to.  (And by the way, I was right about one thing: the tattoo on his fingers spelled VIDA LOCA, an old gang tattoo. But that was his old life.  He's a new man because of his wife, who he Adores With All His Heart and Misses to the Depths of His Soul).  

I'm not kidding, this guy talking about his wife brought me tears. I learned a thing or two about love that day.  

Now, I’d love to say I do this all the time.  Yup, that’s me, The Great Listener.  

But that’s a load of you-know-what.

Here’s the deal: Listening is hard.

And me, the Type-A-oldest-child-fixer-problem-solver, always thinks I need to do more: What astoundingly wise thing can I say?  What thoughtful and perfect thing can I do?

And that’s the thing.  Sometimes we need to just listen. 

It’s a lost art, listening.  We’re so busy with our work, our phones, our lives, our overall busy-ness, that stopping to listen to someone—really and truly listen—it’s just not something we do. 

And it should be.  Because when someone takes the time to truly listen to me, I feel heard.  I feel cherished.  I feel loved. 

So now, I'm doing my best to listen better, to listen more.  And not just to strangers, but hey, maybe those people closest to me, too.

Anyway.  Thanks for listening. ;)

Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger.  - James 1:19

The first duty of love is to listen. - Paul Tillich 

When people talk, listen completely.  Most people never listen.  -Ernest Hemingway