Month: April 2017

Find Your Tribe

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Despite what the movies tell you, it truly sucks when you don’t “fit in” with a group of people. For whatever reason, you just don’t vibe or click, and it can make you wonder what’s wrong with you. 

And to that I say: nothing. Nothing is wrong with you. You just haven’t found your tribe. 

Because the people who you fit in with are dying to meet you. 

Listen, I’m an expert on this one. It’s not that I’ve been bullied or anything like that; it’s only I’ve been a weirdo my whole life looking for other weirdos to weird out with. I have what I like to call Lady GaGa syndrome: even when I’m asked to do a “normal” task, I need to add my own spin. (Which turns into doing a full on smoky eye when showing up to a casual event or carrying around a black umbrella for a day at the beach.)

So, trust me when I say that there’s someone looking for your weirdness right now and who fits in perfectly with you. 

And by the way, if you don’t fit in, it’s not always because you’re weird. Sometimes it’s just because you don’t go with the flow, or aren’t willing to adapt to the mainstream. Because a lot of people do that to fit in with people they probably wouldn’t get along with in the first place (I’m looking at you, entire population of people who bought a unicorn frap knowing full well it tasted awful.)

And that’s okay too. It’s okay to want to fit in. As long as you aren’t pretending to be someone you’re not. 

At the end of the day, if you still can’t find anyone to fit in with no matter how hard you try, you should be just you. In fact, scratch that. Just be you all the time. And you’ll find your tribe eventually. Hang in there. Or come hang out with me. 

Dreaming

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When I was a young girl watching Oprah with my mom after school each day, (I know, cool mom, right?) I took in a lot of wisdom that probably should have been reserved for me much later in life. 

One of my favorite things Oprah said (and I’m about 90% sure I’ve talked about this before, but bear with me) is that life touches you on the arm, then it pokes you, then it slaps you, and finally, it throws up a brick wall (or something to that effect.)

In essence, life is trying to help you figure it out. It sends you messages, little by little, until you get it. But humans, in our infinite intelligence, think that we can do it on our own. Which is when life throws up a brick wall, as if to say, do you get it now??? 

For me, when I start dreaming about something, I know I’ve hit a brick wall. 

That is, I don’t dream about things, or have truly vivid dreams, until I’ve reached my breaking point. (No caffeine, no late night snacks, just pure unadulterated stress makes my brain think up crazy situations just to get me to see reason.)

And last night? I dreamt that every time I left the room, one of the people I was living with was strangled. And then, the strangler would come to me and choke me. And somehow, I would get free, and he would choke someone else and then come looking for me. 

Needless to say, I woke up feeling like someone had had his hands on my neck and it was hard to fall back to sleep. 

So, what’s the meaning here? Well, I believe in every mystical realm and activity under the sun (tarot cards, crystals, herbal medicine, etc.) but I don’t need a scrying mirror to see my brain’s message: you are feeling strangled and suffocated in your life. 

That’s it. I just need to start doing things I love again. And the feelings of being stifled will stop. Brick wall meet sledgehammer. 

And sometimes, it’s just that easy. Try to acknowledge your brain and let it know that you hear it. That you are listening. 

Because for me? I can definitely say now that the message is wholeheartedly received. 

Running and Crying

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Two things you should know about me (if you don’t already know from reading this blog and assuming):

1. I am not an athlete. (I played sports growing up, but I wouldn’t consider myself “athletic” by any stretch of the imagination.) 

2. I never follow through in my personal life. (I have a million and one hobbies at home, and I’ve never finished any of them. I’m looking at you, five adult coloring books.)

So, if I told you that I’ve been waking up early to go for a run these past two days, would you ask if I’ve been abducted by aliens? 

Good, so would I. 

But I haven’t. I’ve just been fed up with how I look, feel, and look. So, for two days, I got up, put clothes on, and went out the front door before I was fully awake. 

And I know, two days isn’t a lot. But see point 2, above, ok? 

So, I was running along today, trying to will myself to keep with it and to go faster when I said to myself, “it’s okay, Bailey. Even if you don’t make it all the way, you accomplished something because you got out of bed to do this today. You’ve already won.” 

And possibly because the pollen has been horrendous and I couldn’t take a full breath without choking and my chest feeling tight, I started to cry. Which looks like I’m a member of crazy town to anyone who is passing by: a girl running slowly, crying to herself. 

But it had been so long that I had been nice to myself, that I had said anything encouraging to me, that it caught me off guard. It’s like when your significant other brings home flowers or does something unexpected to make you feel good. But for yourself. 

So, what’s my advice? Get up every morning and do something for yourself. Break your routine. But really, don’t surprise yourself with kindness, like I did. Practice it daily. 

And even if I don’t get up early enough to go for a run, at least I’ve accomplished something, by getting out of bed. 

You should be proud of that too. 

I Hate This

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I’m starting to resent this blog a little. 

(Don’t worry. I won’t go on a hiatus like I normally do. I’ll just complain about it. Right here.) 

Well, here’s the thing. It’s not because I have to crank out a post daily. And it’s not even because most nights I have writer’s block that nothing can cure. And it’s definitely not because I have so many ideas that I don’t know what to write first. 

It’s that I am forced to find a silver lining in my day. Just one. Because that’s what Bailey Dailey is all about. It’s about being out in the world and finding the good in it. 

And most days, I have to look really hard. I mean, really hard to find the good. And more than that, most days, I would really like to crank up some loud music and drown the rest of the world out, good or no. 

And so, I sort of hate this. I hate holding myself accountable to my own happiness. Because I’d much rather sulk and wallow. 

But I’m grateful for everyone that reads this blog. Because you all make me do it anyway. Even though I hate it a little. Even though it’s hard. Even though I’d much rather be writing Bailey tells it like it is or Bailey serves up cold harsh reality. 

But that’s not why I started this blog. I started it because I saw a need for it. I saw that people needed a little bit of light in their lives. They needed reminders about what’s good. They don’t need more sadness or anger or hatred. There’s enough of that. 

So, yes, even though I have a little sadness and anger and even hatred toward this blog sometimes, that’s only because you have to work hard if you want something good. And this blog? It’s the best part of me. 

And at the end of the day, I hope you read it because it’s the best part of you, too. 

(F)e-mail

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Everyone knows that there’s a double standard in the workplace between men and women. And if you don’t know, you A) have never worked with the opposite sex or B) truly don’t know there’s a double standard, so you shouldn’t be reading this blog. You should be reading every feminist text you can find.

But let’s just say that we’re all on the same page, and we’ve all noticed that men and women are treated (and paid) differently at work.

Where are the differences most evident? In promotions? In conversations at the water cooler? In the lunch room?

No, it’s in our e-mails.

When I first started working, I wrote e-mails that had sentences with question marks implied at every turn.

They looked like this:

Hello?

Um, excuse me? Do you mind doing the thing that you said you were going to do four weeks ago? I know you must be busy, but I’m sorry, do you think you could get it to me? When possible? Thank you? I really appreciate your work? Thanks for not yelling at me?

And yes, maybe that’s just because I am a very timid and shy person to begin with. But I’m also a woman. And I feel the same at work that I do in daily life: like I’m not meant to be there and I’m taking up space. My e-mails reflect that.

And this is a sentiment embedded in women since the day that we are born. Chimamanda Adichie points out in her book, Dear Ijeawele, or A Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions, that little girls are constantly pulled back by their mothers, asked to “play nice” and “sit still,” whereas little boys are given free rein of the playroom. (And what is an office but an adult playroom? Where we are all free to interact with our surroundings and work on what we are best at?)

So, what do my e-mails look like now? They’re still nice. I understand that it’s not fair to take out my frustrations on an unsuspecting stranger. And as sad as it is to say, people do respond more nicely when you are nice to them in the first place.

But I beat around the bush a lot less. I ask. And in very rare and desperate times, I even plead. I do not demand. I’m not as confident in myself yet. But maybe someday, I’ll conquer my inbox in the same way that the vikings took new land: completely.

Boy Pets Dog

Bailey GunnLeave a comment

I had a terrible day today. There was really nothing good about it, and I don’t really want to bring y’all down by talking about it…

But there was one thing.

The one thing that was good about my day was that I was so angry that I took a long walk to cool off…

(That wasn’t the good part.)

And as I was walking, the cool breeze lifted my hair while the sun simultaneously warmed me…

(Not yet.)

And I was walking by some really quaint and beautiful houses…

(Almost there.)

And a woman was walking into her yard while a young boy played in the yard next to her. She was walking a black lab. The young boy saw her and ran over. He greeted her and very gently pet her dog who loved the attention. He then thanked the woman and ran back into his yard. And I can only predict that this is a ritual he conducts every day, and that the woman loves it, and the dog loves it.

And now I love it. Because it was the purest and best thing about my day. Because the boy was happy, and the dog was happy, and the woman was happy.

Which just goes to show you that there’s always something good to hold onto. Even if it has absolutely nothing to do with you. And you only experienced it because you were angry in the first place.

My only hope for you is that you are always on the lookout for your “boy pets dog” moment every day.

An Extra Helping

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I think we’d all like to believe that we would help someone else in their time of need. We’d all be very gracious and open our arms (or most likely our wallets) to help a fellow man or woman that has run amok of some bad luck. 

And while I’m no different from that description, I am still of a different breed. 

You see, I describe myself as a little too helpful. I not only help a fellow person in need, but also when they probably don’t need any help at all. (Or shouldn’t get it). I’d honestly probably help a robber in a bank if he asked me nicely enough to hold the door open for him. I’m that bad sometimes. Your wish is my command and all that. 

The problem is, though, you shouldn’t give everyone what they want because they want it. You don’t give a person who is allergic to peanuts just one Reese’s cup, no matter how hard they beg. Because in the end, they just hurt themselves and at best, blame you for it. 

And the other problem is that if you help everyone, you have an awful lot to do. Sometimes, it’s better to help someone to help themselves so they can keep helping themselves long after you’ve left. 

The point is that while you may think you’re being the world’s nicest person by agreeing to do whatever someone says, you’re not always doing them a favor. In fact, you may be complicating rather than simplifying their lives. 

Ask yourself what the best outcome of a situation would be before doing anything. And if you need some time to think about it, then go ahead and do just that. 

And once you get used to not being as helpful, can you come round and teach me? That would be very helpful of you. 

Take a Guess

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Everything in life is a guess. It’s an estimate. It’s a theory. Sure, it may be based on some really, really, really good evidence. But it’s still just a guess. An assumption. A belief. 

Don’t believe me? Try it out. 

So, you’re an expert on astrophysics. 

“Yes.”

How big is the universe? 

“Well, our science tells us that we can estimate it to be…”

See? Scientists, fifth grade teachers, bomb experts, teenagers, presidents, the bourgeousie, soccer players, and even the Pope have one thing in common: we’re all just guessing. 

About what? About our lives and everyone in them. What’s our next move? Does he love me? Why am I here? Will I be successful? The answers are not easy to find. But they can be guessed at. 

Which should make us all really, really, really cynical, right? We should all throw our hands up in the air and give up on foretelling the secrets of the universe because all we have is our best guess. 

But do you know something? That simply means that your guess is just as good as someone else’s. 

And that puts us all on the same playing field with the same amount of confidence in knowing that we’re right. 

So, what’s the answer to your question? 

Take a guess. It may be your best bet. 

Follow(er)

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Okay, I have a confession to make. 

I’m a follower. 

Yup, you read that right. I’m a lemming. Maybe not with fashion or with personal tastes, but for everything else, I’m a follower. I just don’t really like to lead, especially in a bossy way. I can quietly lead by example. But even then, I’d really prefer it if someone just told me what to do. 

And I know. That’s bad. It makes me ripe for the revolution. It makes me seem like I’ll do anything anyone tells me to do. (Which is sort of true for me, but not always true for everyone else.) 

But is being a follower really a bad thing? Don’t we need to follow in someone else’s footsteps before we know how something is done or how someone feels? Isn’t it smarter to watch something being done before jumping in and doing it yourself? What’s wrong with following along for awhile, until you feel confident enough to lead on your own?

Listen, I get it. The world doesn’t want followers. (Think different. Right?) But we can’t all be leaders either. We’d just have a lot of people walking around and yelling in circles. Sometimes, we just need another population for those people to lead. But that’s not to say we follow them blindly. It’s just that we’re there and ready for someone else to come up with a bright idea. 

And who knows? Maybe, through following and carefully watching others, maybe that will be us someday. But for right now? You can lead the way. 

Priorities 

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There is nothing more important than having your priorities straight. This helps you to make important decisions, take action, and generally live your life. 

But what happens when your priorities clash with each other? What if I want to be productive and sleep? What if I want a high paying job and time for a hobby? What if I want to eat and swim right after? 

Well, that’s certainly more complicated. But it can be done. If you have your priorities straight. 

Listen, you’re going to have to pick and choose initially. Once you have a routine down with one, you can shoot for the other. For example, you can be productive until you have a routine. Then, when you feel ready, try to challenge yourself to be productive some days and to sleep other days. But you’re going to have to prioritize one over the other at first. 

There’s no such thing as multitasking and there’s no such thing as multiprioritizing. You have to pick something for it to be number one, and then you can allow everything else to fall into line. 

But get everything straight. If you want to be skinny, eating cookies is no longer your priority. If you want good grades, watching tv instead of studying is no longer your priority. If you want to be happier, then choosing anything that doesn’t make you so is no longer your priority. 

So, figure out what you want and put it as #1. (Besides reading this blog. We both know that’s your main priority).