A "Thank You" To the Man Who Broke My Heart

Thank you. 

If it weren’t for the shadows you cast, I wouldn’t have appreciated the light. 

If it weren’t for the times you ripped my emotions around, I wouldn’t have become so resilient. 

If it weren’t for the times you lied, I wouldn’t have valued honesty so much. 

If it weren’t for the times you made me feel so little and insignificant, I wouldn’t have learned to rely on myself to supply my own confidence. 

So thank you for tearing me down, now I know how to build myself back up. 

Thank you for breaking my heart, now it's stronger than its ever been.

You Believe in Me

I recently shared a piece of writing where I talk about how comfort zones are just a figment of our imagination. They are theoretical in nature. In this writing, I give a recent example of when I pushed my comfort zone aside and climbed a route that was higher than anything I had ever done before. Climbing that rock face was not the only thing I shared that was out of my comfort zone. In sharing my writing, alone, I was pushing past my comfort zone. Almost more so than when I climbed that rock.

After sharing my piece with the Lipstick and Laundry blog, I received an unbelievable amount of support and praise for my piece. I was (and am still) shocked. For some reason, I got it into my head that no one would want to hear what I have to write. The same way I got it into my head that I was not capable of completing a big climb.

Then suddenly, it dawned on me…

I was the one who initially pushed past my comfort zone of climbing that rock. I was the one who initially sat my insecurities aside and sent my piece to Michelle, the brilliant creator of the Lipstick and Laundry blog.

However, it wasn’t me who made myself feel confident and secure in my decisions to do so.

It was the people around me. The people in my life. The strangers online.

The evening I sat in my room and wondered whether or not I would climb that wall the next day with Patrick, a very confident, seasoned climber.

That was me.

The next morning when I woke and packed my climbing gear.

That was me.

The moment I stood at the base of the wall and looked up and decided that I could climb it.

That was NOT me.

That was Patrick.

I looked up and saw the wall stretching on forever, and thought to myself, “Who the heck are you to climb this wall? You’re not even a strong climber… Shoot, you can barely walk down the sidewalk without tripping…”

But it was Patrick, who had complete confidence in me. In the fact that I could climb this wall. In the fact that my comfort zone was just a figment of my imagination.  He knew that I was capable. And when he looked over and saw my mini-panic attack going on in my head, he just smiled and said, “You’ve got this.”

And I knew he was right. He had confidence in me, and so therefore, I had confidence in me, too. 

When Michelle reached out to me and asked me to write a piece for her blog, I felt completely intimidated by the thought. But I decided to accept her gracious offer.

That was me.

I wrote the piece for her blog.

That was me.

I had the confidence to publish it for the virtual world to see.

That was NOT me.

That was Michelle.

She gave me great praise when she first read it and told me how excited she was to share it with her followers. After sharing the piece, I received so much love and praise and excitement from friends, family, and strangers, alike! I still am not sure how to handle it. Sometimes, thinking about the fact that people are stopping to take the time to read what I have to say is overwhelmingly flattering.

But it also begs the question of… when was the last time I showed someone my complete and utter confidence in their abilities?

I like to think of myself as a generally positive-minded person and I have a tendency to think highly of everyone I meet. I believe that everyone I know is capable of great things. In fact, there is no doubt in my mind that they are all capable of glorious, amazing, inspiring things!

But when was the last time I actually told them that?

When was the last time I said, “you got this,” to a friend who is feeling unsure of themself?

When was the last time I shared a friend’s passion for others to see, simply because I believe in them?

When was the last time I truly gave someone praise for their ability to push their comfort zones aside and live life to the fullest?

When was the last time I simply told someone that I am proud of them, for being 100% and completely themselves?

Sure, we may have to be the ones to initially push past our comfort zones… However, when it comes to doing so with confidence and passion, it has absolutely nothing to do with us. It has to do with the people around us. The people who believe in us. The people who want to watch us succeed.

Thank you, Patrick, for knowing that I was capable of that climb… long before I was aware of that fact. 

Thank you, Michelle, for knowing that my writing could have some sort of impact, even if I had no clue until after you posted it.

Thank you, not only to those who have believed in me without question and with all of their hearts… But to those who made a point to tell me so.

Be verbal. Tell someone that you believe in them. It may be what they need to hear to push their boundaries aside and start living the life they have always dreamed of. A life without inhibitions, a life with passion and confidence.

“I BELIEVE IN YOU.”

This is dedicated to my biggest believer: my mom, who is also my bestest and closest friend.

Please, Make Yourself (Un)comfortable

I was recently honored to be featured on the Lipstick and Laundry blog - click on the link to see the original post. Thank you so much, Michelle, for sharing my piece. I could not be more flattered by your words and the support and praise of all of your followers. Here is the piece that was shared to Lipstick and Laundry...

Monday, June 27^th @ 1:43am

I should be asleep by now.

I normally would have been asleep for hours at this time of night. But, boy, do my nerves have a hold of me right now. Keeping my eyes from becoming drowsy. I keep pacing the room, doing various yoga stretches without any deep breaths, my favorite James Taylor album plays in the background in the hopes that his sweet serenades will calm me. Instead, it’s just a soundtrack that doesn’t coincide with my current state of nervousness.

I keep running through all of these visions in my head. Visions of how tomorrow might play out.

And, quite frankly, they’re not very promising visions.

Tomorrow, I am going to do something I’ve never done before.

Something way out of my comfort zone.

Well, at least, I’m pretty sure it’s out of my comfort zone.

But, then again, that’s hard to say for sure… Seeing as I have never actually done it before.

That’s a funny thing, isn’t it? The fact that our “comfort zones” are something made up almost entirely of our imagination. Since most of the time we don’t actually know for a fact whether or not something is out of our comfort zone until we have actually done it.

Tomorrow, I am going rock climbing, and I am going to attempt a climb that is significantly larger than anything I have ever done.

Like, 4 times larger. (Insert cheeks-flushed, wide-eyed emoji here).

I have only ever completed climbs that were around 100 feet. This is going to be 450 feet.

Let me slow that number down, just to emphasize on its largeness:

four-hundred and fifty feet of rock.

I’m not very good at climbing, and I really don’t know a lot of the procedures and etiquette. The route we are climbing is not all that challenging. In fact, I’m certain almost anyone could climb this route.

So, why haven’t I climbed this yet?

I have wanted to attempt a climb this big since I was first introduced to climbing years ago in high school. So, I ask myself again… Why haven’t I climbed this yet?

I’ll tell you why: My own imagination.

That over-imaginative mind of mine has made up it’s own idea of what my “comfort zone” is. And, apparently, a climb like this was not considered “in” that zone. I keep envisioning myself clinging to the rock and not being able to let go. Or maybe vomiting once I reach the top. Visions of having to pee halfway up the climb.

But, really, who is my imagination to say that this is not something that is comfortable to me?

I think it’s pretty safe to say that this isn’t the first time my imagination has made up ridiculous guidelines that have affected my decisions in life.

What about that time I wanted to talk to that guy that I saw at the coffee shop… And I didn’t?

What about that time I wanted to talk with my boss about an idea I had… And I didn’t?

What about that time I wanted to fly to Argentina… And I didn’t?

What about that time I wanted to write about something that inspired me… And I didn’t?

Why didn’t I? You guessed it, that theoretical comfort zone created entirely out of my theoretical fears. Maybe I would still be talking to that guy. Maybe my boss would have loved my idea and given me a promotion. Maybe Argentina would have changed my life. Maybe writing that piece would have changed someone else’s perspective.

It is important to remember that our comfort zones are only theoretical until proven.

And there is only one way to prove a theory… to get out there and try it.

I dare you to push the boundaries of your comfort zone. Whatever they may be. Go climb your own metaphorical rock. Climb all 450 feet of your rock before you consider it out of your comfort zone. Because, who knows… Maybe you were destined to become a climber. A climber of your own fears. Those fears that your mind has made up for you.

Don’t let your imagination tell you what is and isn’t in your comfort zone. Climb to the top of that rock, and when you get to the top, look down below at where you started and realize how nothing is really out of your comfort zone. That it is all in your head. And that you have full control over it.

P.S. I completed the climb the next day. Reaching the top was, by far, one of the most freeing feelings I have ever felt. And you can be sure that when I got to the top, I looked down at the river below me, spread my arms wide, and breathed in that feeling of accomplishment. The accomplishment was not climbing the wall. The accomplishment was the fact that I pushed my comfort zone aside and did exactly what I had always wanted to do with purpose and confidence.

Happy trails!

-Dai

Adventure Lifestyle Hack #1: Food

I have over 2,000 followers on Instagram.

Yowzas!

I know compared to some people, that is a fraction of the number they have. That's the number of likes they get on any post of their's. However, for me... Well, gosh. I can't imagine over 2,000 people liking my stuff enough to want to see more of it. I am humbled and flattered by their following and liking my material.

Now, in those couple thousand people, I've had several reach out and ask me,

"How do you do it?"

"How do you live this lifestyle of constant adventure?"

I've thought about it for quite some time now, and here's my answer:

Giving up.

Photo by: Cassie Lewis (aka my mom)

I have given up a lot of things to live a life of constant adventure.

Adventuring the way I do, is not comfortable.
It's not glamourous.
I don't have the latest and greatest of everything... In fact, I don't have much. And most of the gear I do have are either hand-me-downs or gear I am borrowing from my mom. I'm lucky she's quite the adventurer, herself.
My Gregory Deva 60 pack (pictured) is the same one I have been using since I was 15 years old. (Quick shoutout to Gregory for being absolute the masters of the pack industry). The straps are not new and fancy. The color is not one of those newer, cool, girly colors that I love so much. (I'm looking at you, powder blue). My 1995 mini van is falling apart, and rattles so loud, that I have to put it in park in the Chick-fil-a drive-thru just so the attendant can hear me on the intercom. (Oh and that glorious new, copper Jeep Rubicon? No, that's my mom's. And yeah, she's a badass.)
My dog's backpack is a hand-me-down, hand-me-down with one of the straps poorly stitched back together and then wrapped in duct tape. My camera is not mine, it is also a hand-me-down from my father's previous photography business. My trekking poles don't match, they're hand-me-downs from my mom.

But here's the first thing that I gave up to be able to afford the mountain girl lifestyle:

Food.

Just to clarify, I did not give up food. I gave up yummy, expensive food. 

This past summer I was checking out at REI just before a one-nighter backpacking trip. 

My purchase: 

- A sh*t ton of those new/featured flavored Clif Bars (mmm)

At the register next to me was a group of kids my age. Two boys and two girls. They were talking about their two-night backpacking trip planned for the upcoming weekend. 

Their purchase: 

- $75 (each) worth of "just add water" backpacker meals

HOLY MOLY. 

I can't ever imagine spending $75 on food for a two night backpacking trip! 

Don't get me wrong. Those meals are cool and all, but if you're a young kid like me with minimal income, those things are just out of the question. (Not to mention, they're actually not the greatest when it come to efficient, lightweight packing, either.)

There are so many other options. And just cause they may take a bit more planning, doesn't mean they're not worth it. 

Instead of purchasing a just-add-water packet. I make my own just-add-water packet. Yes, it's totally do-able! 

Do you know how cheap a bag of rice is? A bag of beans? Well, lemme just say, they're cheap, and they can go a lonnng way. 

So, here's a quick and easy hack that you can do next time you're planning an adventure!

Here's what you do: 

1. Grab some rice, dehydrated veggies, beans, jerky, seasonings of choice, (and if you are gonna be in need of a little extra energy, throw some protein powder in there). 

2. Figure the amount that works best for you and pre-determine how much boiling water it will take to cook that amount. 

3. Take all of those ingredients in the individual meal portion you had already decided on and throw them in one of those Ziploc steamer bags. (AKA, they are made to handle boiling water.) *wink wink* See where I'm going with this? 

           Note: You may want to write the amount of boiling water each meal takes on the ziploc in case                      you forget later. 

4. Throw those suns'uh'bitches in your pack. 

5. Hike up a mountain. 

6. Set up camp. 

7. Bring proper amount of water to a boil over your campstove/Jetboil. 

8. Here's my favorite part... Pour boiling water directly into ziploc! Close 'er up for 5-10 minutes, giving that goodness a chance to cook up properly.

9. Open ziploc and EAT DIRECTLY OUT OF BAG. 

                   No dirty camp dishes to deal with afterwards!

10. Seal 'er back up when you're done and throw it away in your trash bag. 

           Note: The Ziploc steamer bags have small holes in order to steam properly. Any juices left                            after your meal will still leak from the bag. I know from experience... So make sure you                          throw it away in a trash bag that also seals (ziploc). 

P.S. You can also do this with your morning oatmeal! 

             (Try throwing some dehydrated milk, nutz, and protein powder in there for an extra morning                 boost!)

When you continuously work to save money in small areas, the amount your saving slowly builds. It also turns into a routine. Making it so that instead of occasionally going on adventures, you can begin to live a lifestyle that is constantly ready for adventure. 

Happy Trails! 

- Dai

Do you have any food hacks you like to do when prepping for your adventures?
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