tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58384393595458550162024-03-05T12:14:53.928-06:00Life is my road mapHollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.comBlogger615125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-40487418818560198522015-06-22T10:17:00.002-05:002015-06-22T10:17:50.052-05:00I've been writing my heart out on this memoir journeyLiterally.
There have been days I haven't wanted to. Days I've had to force myself. Days I've walked away from my computer. Days I haven't written a word. Days I've written pages.
But here I am.
It's been nearly four years since I began the process of writing my story, my memoir. And the words and the sentences and the paragraphs and the pages and the chapters have evolved, much like this Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-68094542768259987582013-12-31T15:14:00.000-06:002013-12-31T15:14:26.813-06:00The end.
It
is the last day of 2013. I’m reflecting. Aren’t we all?
What’s a word to
describe the year?
Mine:
{UN}expectations
That’s
probably not a word.
But
it fits.
I
was not expecting to visit Africa twice on reporting assignments and Haiti once.
I
wasn’t expecting to lose one of my closest friends, and I wasn’t expecting to
spend much of 2013 grieving.
I
wasn’t expecting to quit my Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-39173599634317428272013-11-07T08:00:00.000-06:002013-11-07T08:00:09.241-06:00Ethiopia-bound!Today I am on my way to Ethiopia!!
If you want to keep up with my journey, like VoiceBox Media on Facebook or follow us on Twitter (@thvoiceboxmedia).
Can't wait to get back and tell you the stories of the people I encounter there!
Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-2198546695923554672013-11-04T08:00:00.000-06:002013-11-04T08:00:12.912-06:00The Day You Find Out I’m a Janitor<!--[if gte mso 9]>
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Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-75231763712062710482013-09-29T09:00:00.000-05:002013-09-29T09:00:00.150-05:00the year of the grasshopperFor the second time this year, I received my expedited passport in the mail.
And it's just in time, because for the second time this year, VoiceBox Media is going to Africa.
This trip to Ethiopia with Doma International has been on the horizon since early this year and now here we are: five-and-a-half-weeks from departure.
5.5 weeks until I leave Austin and embark on a journey of many Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-41311862723139990952013-09-23T20:57:00.004-05:002013-09-23T20:59:21.091-05:00hair and head transformation
To read about my hair to shaved-head transformation, click here.
Sept. 2, 2013
Sept. 2, 2013
Sept. 20, 2013
Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-70493549457099907222013-09-22T09:00:00.000-05:002013-09-22T22:11:24.295-05:00grateful celebration of turning {30}
In October 2012 I was driving from Kentucky back to Texas and I thought, "I want to return here for my 30th birthday party and I want to celebrate with some of my most favorite people."
Fast forward to September 2013 and that's what happened.
When I look at the pictures from that weekend and when I think about being surrounded by that much love, I'm grateful.
I'm gratefulHollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-91498703310737093722013-09-21T20:56:00.001-05:002013-09-21T22:05:40.235-05:00In the aura of community“Love is the very difficult understanding that something other than yourself is real.” Iris Murdoch
Inside a little house on Sept. 20 a group of women met.
There was food and cucumber water.
There was a roll-y white chair and a lamp for lighting.
She sat down and shared with us: LOVE WINS.
And she took off her hat.
There was a documentarian and cameras rolling.
A horseshoe-shaped cluster of Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-37703337651238730022013-09-10T08:00:00.000-05:002013-09-10T08:00:08.447-05:00For the love of a friend
The #victorybirds!
I've competed in a few races with mostly one thing on my mind: can I beat my personal best? Can I shave off a few minutes, seconds?
Time was the last thing on my mind during Sunday's BrainPower 5K, and when we crossed the finish line 56 minutes after we started, the only thing we were celebrating was our beautiful friend who climbed out of the jogging stroller and crossed Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-78644276969108253642013-09-07T22:08:00.001-05:002013-09-07T22:08:54.409-05:00expectationsIf you were to ask me 10 years ago what my bed would look like when I turned 30, its current state would not be my answer, which makes it a metaphor for how different real life is compared to expectations.
Not bad. Just different.
For starters, my bed is a nest and not an orderly sense of....anything. It's rarely made, outside of grabbing the edges of the sheet, blanket and duvet and spreading Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-86306477919108424372013-09-04T08:00:00.000-05:002013-09-04T14:27:09.448-05:00my first act as a 30-year-old
Four months ago we were in Haiti together and she taught me how to French braid my hair.
Six days ago we were in her kitchen together and she pulled off her hat. "Wanna see my head?" I rubbed my fingers over the places her cancer treatment has bared.
Three days ago I turned 30 and I cut off all my hair. Elevenish inches were donated to Locks of Love.
Today (Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-29612132501637319802013-09-03T19:29:00.000-05:002013-09-03T19:29:21.509-05:00Revolutionize. Play. Create. {repeat}
I’ve lived 30 years.
Not sure why, but something about that sounds…seasoned. As in, I’ve
seen 30 years of gnarly shit and I can learn ya somethin’. Or, gather
‘round my creaky rocking chair while I knit socks and spin tales from a
bygone era.
I was a wee miss living on a farm in Tennessee and I helped my
mother train a Jersey cow to be a milker…when I wasn’t tending my flock
of Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-58026689361769662462013-07-16T09:00:00.000-05:002013-07-16T09:00:01.930-05:00a flailing puppy and a steady nipple
"Do you know what a ruthless warrior you are to be living the lifestyle of following your heart?"
(Emelia Symington Fedy)
There was a day in the not-so distant past that I didn't feel like a ruthless warrior.
I felt like a crying mess in a hot shower during a colossal meltdown over malfunctioning technology. What started out as, "Dang it, this link won't open in a Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-8057648786890034052013-07-15T21:47:00.000-05:002013-07-15T21:47:10.368-05:00VoiceBox Media is a nominee!
When I look at the list of this year's nominees for the Epoch Awards,
I see stories. I see people's names and their organizations, and I see
that each one represents, a passion, a calling and a journey to bring
the dream to life. Living a mission isn't for the faint of heart - it
takes courage, humility, optimism, faith. I'm curious to know these
people and their Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-41477065197424876512013-07-07T08:00:00.000-05:002013-07-07T16:17:30.872-05:00She is clothed with strength and dignity....
I sat in a chair parked by her bed.
She asked me about the dogs, what my plans were for the weekend, what I did that day.
I didn't ask about hers.
There are certain things you shouldn't say in a hospital room.
{ex. "How was your day?" Really great. That's actually why I'm here.}
She tells me when she's ready.
She recounts the events of the last three days.
Some of it I already know.Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-14042541038349445712013-06-27T09:00:00.000-05:002013-06-27T09:00:06.439-05:00respect the timeI left the house with Tuck one morning a couple weeks ago and we went to our favorite hiking trails.
While we were in the woods for an hour, our house was being broken into and every electronic device I owned was being stolen. And my safe, which had, well, things you put in safes to keep safe, including a lot of cash, was taken. (Like, all my earnings from Skye's litter of puppies.)
I entered Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-86664434135269619812013-06-17T13:19:00.002-05:002013-06-17T13:19:54.135-05:00The First Date.AKA The moment in time where two people meet and judge each other ferociously against a mental checklist. Everyone does it. Judging, that is, because if the checklist isn’t fulfilled, there will be no second or third date, or marriage. Marriage. That’s ultimately what the First Date is determining. Are we compatible? Because obviously a two-hour conversation over a meal, or drinks, or coffee is Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-15885238207085534332013-06-10T12:32:00.003-05:002013-06-10T12:33:39.149-05:00My Monday morningsMy Monday mornings look a little bit different.
First, they're mine.
My Monday mornings...
I've excused myself from the rat-race of corporate-ness, the competition of money-centered media, and I've struck out on a different path. My path.
It's been four months and I'm still just as exhilarated about my decision today as I was the night I made it.
Sometimes you just know.
You know when Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-66366381804125167562013-06-05T11:30:00.001-05:002013-06-05T11:31:00.927-05:00Outtakes{Real things I've really said to my real dogs}:
"No toys in the bed!"
"You have two chances to sleep in the bedroom tonight."
(10 seconds later)
"You have lost your privilege to sleep in the bedroom tonight."
"I'm on the phone, please stop running through the house."
"I need you to get out of my personal space for about five minutes."
"I do not need you in my face while I'm peeing."
"Do Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-71102206673101696332013-06-04T13:28:00.000-05:002013-06-04T13:28:54.895-05:00What's the ONE Thing?I ended May in a hotel basement in Austin, Texas.
Why some of my most significant life-moments have happened in a hotel basement, I don't know, but I think I should hang out there more often.
I ended up there because my mom said, "Hey, have you heard about The ONE Thing? It's a book in which the author abolishes the idea of multitasking as a LIE and he'll be speaking about it next week in Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-86915912615530831472013-06-03T10:24:00.000-05:002013-06-04T12:26:16.406-05:00Health in Year #3 - WE GOT THIS!I'm terrible at numbers, but there's one I can't forget.
224.
That's my heaviest-weight-number.
And there's plenty of photographic evidence, thanks to Facebook. Wanna see?
April 2010, 4 months before I began my lifestyle transformation
Oh, I'd known I was putting on weight and I knew that I was overweight. I had tried diets for years and various exercise regimes, but there were little Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-79537860990513701472013-06-02T22:35:00.000-05:002013-06-02T22:35:26.243-05:00Just a paragraph or twoI fight perfectionism every cotton-pickin' day. What the hell? I even catch myself saying, "I am perfectly imperfect," as if in my dying breath of admitting imperfection I have to rally...."at least I'm perfect at being imperfect." Just give it up already I went to a seminar last week where the guy said that extraordinary results meant that some shit was going to be left undone at the end of the Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-51978800770465153932013-05-03T19:23:00.000-05:002013-05-03T19:23:26.008-05:00lowered expectationsI used to mistakenly think that I could get somewhere on the first try.
Not figuratively. Literally.
I've been on my way to Chicago and nearly ended up in Memphis. Family and close friends s-p-e-l-l o-u-t directions, especially if they want me somewhere on time. If I'm going somewhere new (like a restaurant, coffee shop, or trying to find Office Depot), I Google directions before I leave the Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-56841958549897213962013-04-17T14:18:00.000-05:002013-04-17T14:18:08.568-05:00Let me always be this young
“We are too young to realize that certain things are impossible... So we will do them anyway.” ― William Wilberforce
I was the last person to leave a new newsroom this week. It's a bigger one, more prestigious and with a coffee pot, no dress code and a gym just down the hall.
I got in my car and drove home to find my dream litter of German shepherd puppies lounging in the kitchen.
ThreeHollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5838439359545855016.post-68442289216038666112013-04-16T15:08:00.001-05:002013-04-16T15:08:41.570-05:00As written from Le Xaragua in HaitiIt's April 13, 2013 at 10:44 p.m.
We ate dinner on the veranda outside tonight - the sea lapping behind us. I walked down to the railing to take pictures and just look and talk to my soul.
I watched the waves (for about 5.5 minutes) and went to walk away.
"Why don't you be still awhile longer?"
I've been in such a hurry lately and I keep saying, "Such-and-such feels Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10201674496396914303noreply@blogger.com2