The 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 career-smart job the day before I went to Kenya, and I wasn’t expecting to come home from Kenya and have to move in with a friend for three weeks because skunks had taken over my Cottage.

I wasn’t expecting to move in with my mom.

There was the wall of depression I was not expecting, and my psychologist.

I was not expecting to never want children, and I wasn’t expecting to rediscover on another continent my love of family.

I wasn’t expecting to be a lecturer at a state university, and I wasn’t expecting the phone call: “do you want a full time job with us?”

I wasn’t expecting to come home from Ethiopia and have to find a new place to live. I wasn’t expecting the perfect travel trailer to come available for us.

I wasn’t expecting to be a janitor for four months.

I wasn’t ready for the news, “It’s a brain tumor,” and then six months later, “It’s not growing … radiation is working.”

There were powerful conversations in 2013; two trips to Kentucky, one to Boston/Cape Cod, one to Washington D.C., a couple to Dallas, Houston. There were gifts of chickens (real ones), and moving parties. Tuck was trained in personal protection. Skye raised a litter of puppies. VoiceBox Media celebrated its first birthday; I created a website for my projects. I’m writing my book. I hiked more than 100 miles and lost weight.

The year was chock full of friends, laughter, tears, growth, new beginnings, a few endings, triumph, blow-your-mind crazy blessings, and a sense of wonderment over this ridiculous humbling journey of Life.  

Ethiopia-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!

The Day You Find Out I’m a Janitor

That’s today. Or, whatever day it is you’re reading this.

I’ve been a closeted towel-bowl scrubber and floor-vacuumer for the past while after responding to an ad on Craigslist, and training for 15 minutes. When I met the cleaning company woman for my “interview,” she asked where else I worked. I said, “At the paper,” which, you know, is a big one.

“Do you throw papers there?” she asked next. The twice-college graduate inside me winced, but I smiled and replied, “No. I do other…stuff.”

Wiping down countertops and emptying a lot of trash cans have become part of my routine five days a week. It might be unusual, different, and undesirable for some.

But it’s now part of my crazy journey. It a thread in the fabric of my story that, years from now, I’ll reflect on and chuckle about – not out of shame, but out of humor and maybe a little bit of admiration for the self that I was who hustled to make a student loan payment, or to help pay my way to a foreign country, or to be able to afford a car.  

And maybe I’ll always keep a cleaning job on the side. I thought that the other night at 1:30 while I was sweeping around a toilet. I rather like melting into the rhythmic monotony of emptying trash, dusting, wiping down mirrors, sweeping, vacuuming…

I was cleaning the other night and one of the employees came rushing through the building. She scared me shitless because I’ve NEVER seen anyone and it’s my worst fear to look up and suddenly see someone watching me. I said to her, laughing, “Oh my gosh, you scared me!” She said nothing.

When she was done getting whatever it was she came for in the break-room, she breezed by. I told her (again) that she scared me because she didn’t give me a warning call-out. She said, “Have fun” and kept walking. I told her to have a good night. I got nothing in response.

There was part of me for a moment that rose up in indignation. You should tell her who you are! Tell her you are educated. Do not let yourself be treated that way.

And then I chuckled and kept emptying my trash cans.

Be nice to your janitors. We’re everywhere.

{And if you’re reading this and you know I’m a janitor then maybe today’s the day you find out I’m an international journalist running a media nonprofit, I’m a journalist at the 54^th largest newspaper in the US, and I teach at a university. Maybe you think to yourself, “I should have said hello.”}

the year of the grasshopper

For 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 airplane rides, a very long road trip, and a 6-mile hike with mules bearing luggage.

5.5 weeks until I'm embedded with a team of 12 medical professionals from all over the country while they set up medical clinics in rural mountain villages in and around Bora where an estimated 10,000 people live six miles from the nearest doctor.

5.5 weeks until I hear their stories, and the stories of the people they're serving.

5.5 weeks until I, with your help, have the opportunity to hand them a microphone: SPEAK. And bring their message back to you.

This trip, much like VoiceBox Media's last 10 months of existence, could not happen without you, and we still need support to make our storytelling mission in Ethiopia possible. Together we have raised $1,480 to cover the expenses of airfare to Addis Ababa - Ethiopia's capital city, and now we must join forces to raise $1,500 to supply my interpreter, food, lodging, a mule to carry my frugal luggage, and in-country transportation, including 14-16 hours in a van.   

Our journey with VoiceBox Media has been a series of leaps of faith and trusting; more trusting followed by another leap; provision at the precise moments we've needed it preceded by many prayers.

I don't prefer it this way.
I'd like to have everything today, because in truth, the leaps are scary. Trusting is uncomfortable because it means I am not in control and it means there is the possibility of failure.

It also means abandonment; it means leaning in to something greater than myself, and it means opportunities to create transformational partnerships with people like you.


It is a journey of faith, of grace-for-the-moment, of peaceful deliberation, and of holding on to purpose in the face of the unknown, even when I'd rather all the unknowns be known.

Now.

In the words of Amber Kaufman, Doma International medical coordinator and project director, "“It’s astounding how many people can be impacted by one reporter going to Ethiopia.”   
__________________________________________________________________________________

To support VoiceBox Media's trip to Ethiopia, you can:

1) Send a tax-deductible donation in the form of a check made payable to Doma International, and send to Doma International, P.O. Box 21987, Columbus, OH 43221 with my name (Holly Wise) in the memo line. 

2) Make a donation via Paypal through VoiceBox Media's website, or contact me for a physical address.

3) Purchase a handmade lap-sized quilt (cotton or flannel) for $75. All proceeds benefit VoiceBox Media's trip to Ethiopia, and all quilts are handmade by me.

Thank you for your prayerful consideration.

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; it's the only thing that ever has." — Margaret Mead

My Monday mornings

My 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 you're supposed to take that chance.

{talk to that boy}
{take that trip}
{invest that money}
{buy that dog}
{make that friend}
{let that go}

I fired my employer on Feb. 13.
On Feb. 14, I was on a plane to Kenya.

Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean on Feb. 21ish, I wondered if I'd have the same assuredness half-a-world-away as I did on that day.

Yes, even stronger.
And today it's even stronger.

Sometimes you just know, and sometimes you just have to jump.

But maybe you're scared.

It's OK.

I'm scared shitless nearly every day.

Taking that step is petrifyingly scary.

Whoa, holy-scariness.

Before I jumped, I was so good at running through scenarios in my head and they usually defaulted to negative ones.

What if....
I don't have enough money.
I fail.
I made a mistake.
I miscalculated the timing.
I overshot my jump.
I crash and burn.
I humiliate myself.
I let my family down.

A couple years ago, my life coach suggested that if I'm going to play the What-If Game, that I change the rules.

What if...
I succeed.
I am making the perfect choice.
I am an example.
I am right on time.

My new favorite singer says it like this:

"What if I fly,
then will I feel the freedom on my skin
What if I,
close my eyes, trust the wind and just lean in?
I'll get there...if I dare...
If I fly.

So what if I'm afraid?
So what if my heart breaks?
But what if I fly?"

Be brave, my friends.
You'll know when you're supposed to jump.
But be prepared.
It'll probably be when you least expect it.

What'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 Austin."

Um, nobody puts multitasking in a corner, so I went. Mainly because I wanted to see WHO WOULD UTTER SUCH BLASPHEMY and also because I wanted someone to tell me what I should do with my ONE Thing.

(My ONE Thing = VoiceBox Media, in case you didn't know.)

To catch you up, here's what I've been doing with my One Thing, etc. in the last seven months:

Started it in November
Quit my full time job in February
Went to Kenya the very next day
Had to abandon my house because of SKUNKS
Went to Houston and Dallas (in the same weekend)
Went to Kentucky
Birthed a litter of puppies
Got an awesome part-time job
Adjusted my lifestyle to accommodate a part-time salary
Went to Haiti
Went to Florida
Started the part-time job
Raised the puppies
Sold the puppies
Went to St. Louis to get my dog from training school
Started contract work
Finished contract work

Got really overwhelmed.

(Thank the Lord (really!) for my friends, my life coach and my therapist)

So when I entered the hotel basement, I wanted to leave with focus. And debunk the "multitasking is a lie" statement.

I left with focus. And the realization that multitasking is detracting from my focus, which my ONE Thing needs. But more on that later.

The author of The ONE Thing asks a great question:

"What is the one thing I can do, such that by doing it, everything else will be easier or unnecessary?"

Instantly, my mind starts freaking out:

"YOU HAVE TO FIND THAT ONE THING......What is it? WHAT COULD IT POSSIBLY BE?!"

The answer came to me while I was vacuuming.

See, I do what a lot of my friends do. I get into the "starting over" mentality. The thoughts that go like this: "I really need to start (blank)..." "If only I could start (blank)...." But my philosophy is that we're not always starting (a new diet, a better spiritual relationship, an exercise regimen), we're continuing a journey. Every day we are on a diet - it just changes based on our choices. Same with our spiritual relationship, exercise regimen, our cleaning routine, etc.

So I gave myself the same advice. Instead of obsessing with, "What can I START doing that will make everything else easier or unnecessary," I took a look-see into the habits I've established in my life where I'm already doing those things.

Here's what I came up with:

Example #1: Freezer cooking
I started this one thing awhile ago as part of my health journey and when I had a full-time job. This habit saves me from asking the "what am I going to eat for lunch/dinner" question that when you really enjoy food as much as I do, you ask yourself shortly after breakfast. Plus it's a big time saver for me, and I'm a big fan of efficiency.

Example #2: My new vacuum (don't laugh)
If you've been following me on Facebook, you KNOW how obsessed I am with my new vacuum. I even demonstrated it to a friend who came over to watch a movie. (I can only use so many words to explain its headlights - you just GOTTA SEE THEM). So how does this one thing make everything else easier and unnecessary? Well, it saves me time, because it now takes me 15 minutes to vacuum the WHOLE house instead of 30-45 minutes to sweep. Plus it's so much fun that I use vacuuming as an incentive for myself. (see? The one things don't have to be HUGE)

Example #3: I walk Tuck every morning first thing
Tuck is my 2-year old German shepherd who, without a walk first thing in the morning, will literally go crazy. So starting our day with a 30-40 minute walk and a 10-15 minute training session sets our day up for awesomeness, because he crashes for a couple hours and I'm able to work in peace for that time. Plus I get the exercise, I get to clear my head, be in nature, the sun, pray, meditate and enjoy his company. So many birds killed with one stone. Love it.

Example #4: Budget. Every paycheck. Before I get paid.
I started telling my money where to go, and I put it there. Empowering! I don't stress anymore about my money "disappearing" and I don't stress about paying bills, because over time I've built up the courage to face that fear. (Money scares the shit out of me, FYI) And over time, my savings account has expanded and I'm in control.

This question can apply to every area of my life: Spiritual, physical health, personal life, key relationships, my job, my business, my finances.

I'm doing it with my ONE Thing. How? I have a should-do list and I check off the one-small-step(s) as they are completed. And I focus on my One Thing by blocking off (mostly) uninterrupted time to devote to it.

Sometimes it's really that simple.

And sometimes I need to hear it again and again.

In a hotel basement.

staring isn't living

God and I got into a staring contest. I blinked first. He probably smiled.

He knows I’m a control freak.

I like to plan shit.

I like to organize it and make it look pretty.

I like to follow steps to achieve a goal, and I like to know the end result.

I imagine God and I in a sitting dyad. Our faces are inches a part and my hands are resting comfortably in his. My poker face sucks so I’m probably smiling and maybe chuckling intermittently. He’s better at keeping a straight face.

Why am I staring? Well, aside from the fact that I’m competitive and I want to win, I want control. Not engaging in this charade means I have to go live my life, and what does that look like? I’m not entirely sure. So I keep staring.

It’s hard to say how long we’ve been contesting. He could probably tell you. Granted, there have been reprieves along the way mostly because I’ve closed my eyes, or darted my eyeballs somewhere else only to return to the locked gaze.

As long as I keep staring, I know what I’m doing. Staring. If I stop staring I don’t know what will happen.

And then one day I decided to blink.

You know what I realized while I was sitting there…staring? I couldn’t live my mission, execute a dream, or change the world in this position. I had to get up. And it’s hard to stare someone down (even God) when you’re moving.

“Just jump,” a friend told me in November. “Just do it…jump.”

“Can I plug my nose?” I asked.

“Yes, you can plug your nose. Just jump.”

So that’s what I did. I stopped staring. I blinked, plugged my nose and jumped.

Some of the most profound moments in my life have been when I’ve abandoned worry, surrendered to the risk, and gave up my control.

I don’t believe that God has special rewards for people who jump much like I don’t believe he sabotages our efforts just to lead us through the proverbial desert another 40 years.

But there is power in mobilizing yourself. Good things (and some bad ones, too) are going to happen when we are vulnerable enough to loosen our grip and live our best lives.

I will never stop learning this lesson. It’s a daily choice: stare, or live? Stare? Live? Stare? Adventure? Stare? Trust?

Staring is comfortable, and I mean, his eyes are gorgeous. But if I’m staring/controlling, I’m not living. And I intend to live.

"I've gotcha"

"Fearlessness with peace," my mom reminded me. "Remember what the skunk means?"

Skunks have been a crazy intimate part of my life for about 17 months now, and they've finally driven me out of my Cottage. *insert sadness here* While I'm lamenting the loss of my home, and humored that I lost the battle to skunks, my life coach is informing me of the significance that skunks represent. 

Fearlessness with peace. Steady with efforts. What you do emanates outward. Teaches willpower. An awareness of when to move and adapt. People will naturally notice you.

I had no idea the skunks had an important message. 

Four months ago, there were so many reasons not to accept my friend's invitation to Kenya. 

Money. Job. Vacation. Dogs. Health. Risk. Fear.

There were so many reasons not to launch VoiceBox Media. 

Money. Job. Vacation. Risk. Fear. My obsessive worrying about details that didn't matter. 

But then I decided to take a small step. Dip my toe in the water, if you will. I started talking about my idea. And the idea became a bigger idea until it was bursting at the seams and I had a choice to make: kill it, or take the next small step.

Four months ago I was sitting in a friend's living room tallying up all the reasons I shouldn't go to Kenya. Don't get me wrong. I wanted to go so freaking bad. 

But was I ready for that step? Did I have what it would take?

I consulted my mentors.

You're going to Kenya. 

Forget dipping the toe in the water. That takes too long. I decided to dive. 

I can only calculate risk for so long before I have to jump, and trust. I can only run through so many scenarios in my dizzy head until I have to relinquish control, and trust.

When will I learn?

I was shaking my head at myself yesterday over that very question. An unplanned sequence of events had me irritated and flustered, but led me exactly to where I needed to be at exactly the right time - not a day too late, not a minute too soon. 

When will I get that despite my planning and obsessive studying of the calendar, shit's not really under my control?

I've seen it happen again and again with my four-month-old-project-that's-been-in-the-making-for-13-years. You'd think I'd get it. 

Everything happens for a reason.

That's my motto. It reminds me not to sweat the small stuff, and to appreciate the big stuff. To let go of some things and to trust. Usually these moments hit me when I'm driving at sundown and I look over or ahead of me to see the magnificent sunset, and I hear a couple words whispered into my soul: 

"I've gotcha."

From Kenya

As written from Mwaita on Feb. 17, 2013 at 10:45 p.m.:

It's my second night in Kenya and I'm writing in what is a stone building with three sleeping rooms. We are in the village tonight - "the real Kenyan experience."

The morning was slow and at around 11, Wesley, Tarah, Mikayla and I went to Eldoret. We stopped at his cousin Patrick's house for about an hour before continuing on. We ordered pizza from a bistro (my Mastercard raised an eyebrow and confusion from the clerk, but the manager approved it) and while Wesley bought natural gas and fixed a flat tire, Tarah, Mikayla and I shopped at the market. It looked as if it was the Kenyan equivalent of Walmart, except guards ran you up and down with a wand.

I was told it was a "major shopping trip" as our cart (probably half the size of a Walmart cart) was full. We arrived back at Wesley's house at 2:45 p.m. and hurriedly got back onto the road for the village.

It was a seemingly chaotic but purposeful rhythm of stopping, switching Kenyan drivers, Wesley going in one director and Tarah, Mikayla and I in the other. Along the way, we picked up Wesley's mom and neighbor. We drove further into the villages and to a primary school where a large group of women were waiting for Tarah to speak about Wesley. She asked me to say a few words and introduce myself - she would translate. I did and she explained more about how I met Wesley when he first came to the United States.

I learned quickly that the Kenyan greeting is a handshake, and the children will crowd and wait for you to initiate contact. When one hand has been touched, dozens of hands reach out.

When we left the women, a man planted himself in front of the car, forcing us to stop. He came to my open window to shake my hand and he grabbed my arm, not letting go. Our driver kept driving until the man couldn't keep up. We stopped shortly after a butcher stand along the road so Wesley's mom could purchase meat. Our car was swarmed as adults and young children crowded to see, talk and touch us. A woman, a friend of Wesley's, explained that besides Tarah, they had never seen a white person. My glasses are also drawing attention. They wanted to talk to "Mrs. Wesley" and it was as if she was some sort of celebrity - their hero's other half.

At one moment, a man climbed into the back seat and would not get out. Our driver, Timothy, tried coaxing him, and another man - a Wesley supporter - went around to his door, opened it, and tried to get him to leave. He refused and kept pointing at me. Finally he climbed out and I saw the man slip Kenyan shillings into his hand. Our driver locked the doors.

We left the butcher shop and drove a bit to drop off Wesley's mom's neighbor. She showed us the nursery school she had built in 2 weeks time. It sits in the middle of a field, obscure and the equivalent of an American outbuilding, but such pride and promise surrounded it.

She has 6 acres and a small farm. She will build a primary school, she said. She wants me to come back, that we are close friends and connected now.

We drive to Wesley's village via a tangled mess of roads riveted with ruts and holes. My days on the ranch prepared me for Kenyan roads.

Once at the village, we settled in...unloading our supplies and I was given the tour. We drank chai tea and Stewart and I talked about his time here and the ag perspective he has. People floated in and out and soon our English was overtaken my Swahili. We listened. Most of the conversation centered around politics and the future of the Cherangany. It's hard to separate politics from the foundation in Wesley's mind because they are connected. He wants to bridge the two sides, he said, something that has never been done - a politician working with and for the good of the people.

Conversation flowed easily from one topic to another - politics, college football, races run, training and brainstorming ideas for foundation fundraising. Dinner is served (plow) and the conversation continues. There's lot of laughter. People love to laugh here, and it's a universal language.

All of my interviews so far have been done in the car en route to the next destination. Once we arrive, there are many people and distractions.

Let's dream

"And often the result of daring greatly isn't a victory march as much as it is a quiet sense of freedom mixed with a little battle fatigue." Brene Brown, Daring Greatly

I am free. 

I am also tired, exhilarated, content, on track, and blessed.

It's been a whirlwind three months. 

I founded VoiceBox Media in November. I began planning for Kenya in December. In January, we had our first board meeting and I was voted the executive director of VoiceBox. I bought my ticket for Kenya.

In February, I lost one of my best friends to a heart attack. Five days later I quit my job. The next day I went to Kenya, and in the process visited 3 continents, a half dozen countries and spent an unexpected (free) night in Amsterdam.

Five days ago I came home to a Cottage infested with skunk odor, and for the past five days I've been housed with a dear friend who graciously opened their home to me and my two dogs, one of which I'm 90 percent sure is pregnant. 

Now, here I am. A bit windblown, kissed by the Kenyan sun, and with so many ideas and stories and pictures floating around in my head that it's hard to concentrate on just one for more than five minutes.

I've been absent from here, but I haven't been silent. I've written over here, and guest blogged over there. I've been planning and emailing and Facebook messaging and texting and IM'ing and talking. I've been rejected and come back swinging; delayed, but not deterred. 

"Do you know what a ruthless warrior you are to be living the lifestyle of following your heart?" Emelia Symington Fedy 

I've been pinching myself. You're living your dream. There are accolades and pats on the back and admiration and respect. But really, I'm just a girl with a dream. 

And I'm going for it. With everything I've got.

For a sneak peak of photos, visit VBM's Facebook page