Tag: life

Be Curious! 

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I had a HUGE revelation today. 

I’m all about pursuing your passions. All for it. 

Except when it comes to quitting your day job. 

I know, I know. Big risk, big reward. But there’s something keeping you back from starting all over and pursuing your passion isn’t there? (Yes, Bailey. It’s my crippling student debt.) Okay, fair. 

But ask yourself — is your passion something you LIKE to do? Or are you truly interested and curious about it?

Because that’s what keeps me back from writing full time. One, because I love my blog and I don’t want to hate it because I have to rely on it to give me money. But two, and more importantly, I’m not curious about writing. I don’t want to learn about it. I just want to do it. It comes natural to me. And like most writers, I’m an egotist and I think I’ve learned everything I possibly can about writing. I’ll learn as I go. 

But what am I truly curious about? Science. I am interested in science. I love listening to podcasts about any kind of science, but mostly anatomy. I get truly excited about listening to how the human body works. I hung on every word of a woman who described how she became allergic to meat. And it’s only taken me until recently to realize that I have a passion for science, but I have a love for writing. 

The difference is that I can keep one as my mistress, and the other one keeps me up at night. (I’ll let you decide which is which.)

But the point is that when I stopped to think about it, I realized I could love what I do and still not be passionate about it. Just because I love writing doesn’t mean that I need to exorcise my soul to produce it. Sometimes, quitting your day job still doesn’t mean you are fulfilled. 

“Take Some Time to Travel”

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I’ve been really stressed lately. (Who hasn’t?) And most of the time, when I’m stressed, I also get really forgetful (who doesn’t?). But I don’t mean I walk into a room and forget why I’m there forgetful.  I mean, I turn on the water for a shower and then leave the house in my towel. (That hasn’t happened yet, but honestly, it’s only a matter of time.) 

So, imagine my surprise, as I was taking notes during a call, I looked down and saw that I had written “take some time to travel.” Your guess is as good as mine about what that actually was about. I have no idea what it was in reference to or if someone had even said it. I’m not sure why I even wrote it down. 

But in some small way, I want to believe that my brain was urging me to do something for me (for once). It was all like, hey, Bailey, it’s your brain talking. I know, I know, I named myself. How cool is that? Anyway, you’re working me way too hard. Why don’t we get out of here for awhile?

And I will be this weekend. Getting out for here awhile, that is. And I think, at least this is what my brain says, that’s exactly what I need. 

And hey. Someone has to be looking out for you. It might as well be… you. 

What Hiccups Will Teach You

Bailey Gunn1 Comment

Okay, listen. I HATE the hiccups. I’ve inherited that loathing from my father, who would take walks around the block just to avoid freaking out at us over his hiccups. 

And do what you want to cure them: light a match and put it in a cup of water, try to drink from the opposite side of your cup, ask someone to scare the living daylights out of you. Hiccups will go when they want to go. 

Which is why hiccups can teach you about patience. About humility (oh yeah, they will take you right down a notch.) And of course, about slowing down (because eating fast is how you get hiccups in the first place, isn’t it?)

The next time you have hiccups, try to take inventory. Why do I have hiccups? What am I doing too fast, and especially, what am I willing to do to get rid of them? 

Because the relief you feel when they leave is unparalleled. But for them to leave, you have to acknowledge them first. (Like most problems in life.) 

I Believe

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Belief is a very touchy subject. I mean, what you think is easy to share. Everyone’s got an opinion. But belief seems quieter, more fragile, more willing to break. It’s personal. 

And don’t worry. We’re not gonna get into the specifics of the “big” question: whether pineapple belongs on pizza or not. (Jk, it’s whether there’s an omnipresent being watching over us. Which is the more controversial topic, again?)

I’ll start: I’m just gonna say that I believe in fairies, unicorns, mermaids, villains, heroes, witches, warlocks, magic, spells, and most importantly, happy endings. 

Why? Because I’ve never had a reason not to. 

I’ve never looked at this world, with all its treasures and wonders, but also pain and hurt, and said something just can’t be possible. Because it all can. I’ve seen amazing good and horrible bad. And because of that, I believe in everything. I have to so that it all balances out, somehow. 

So, while believing in fairies might seem silly to you, to me it’s just acknowledging that we don’t know everything about our world.

And when we do, it’ll be a sad day. Because when things are still unknown, there’s still room for belief. 

Blow it up. Start over. 

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Las Vegas. Despite being the town with the glitz and the glam and the one and only Britney Spears, not all of its ventures are successes. Believe it or not, there are some casinos that don’t hit the jackpot (what a theory.) 

So, what do developers do? They don’t just redecorate. They don’t just turn it into a cool gastropub with slot machine levers to pour beer. 

No. They implode the thing and start over. Controlled explosions. Dynamite. Time and time again. Blow it up. Begin anew. 

And I think there’s something to be said about that for life. Because in the age of technology where all of your exes (ex-husband, ex-friend, ex-boss) are a click away, I think we have a hard time saying goodbye to some of our old relationships and habits. And while it’s never really advised to burn bridges, I have to wonder why not. Why don’t more people blow up that toxic aspect of their lives and start over?

Because sometimes, leaving a back door open as you leave, can make it feel all so unfinished. And that can push you back into a situation that you shouldn’t have been in the first or second time. 

So, don’t tear your life down. But when necessary and in very extreme situations, it doesn’t hurt to control the explosion from the inside and to rebuild it Las Vegas style: bigger and badder. 

Parallel Lives 

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You ever hear of the butterfly theory? 

Also known as the chaos theory, it’s the idea that a flap of a butterfly’s wings halfway across the world could alter things that occur in a seemingly unrelated event (like your own life).

And just about every medium that deals with science fiction has explored this theory in some way, shape, or form. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t bear repeating. 

Because there’s another theory that goes right along with the butterfly theory: that every choice we make in our lives, even if it’s what to eat for dessert on a Tuesday night, changes the outcome of our entire existence. On a much larger scale, it encompasses every “what if” in life. What if he was “the one”? What if I took that job? What if I ordered tira misu? 

The difference here is that I would like to believe in the butterfly theory. I like the idea that small, unrelated events move us across the world like chess pieces. What I don’t like is thinking about a life parallel to the one I’m living that allows me to live out every decision I didn’t make. It’s agony. 

Which is why I believe that while our decisions do have great influence on our lives, we do have checkpoints. In short, that we are meant to be in some places, and that we will get there however we get there. That you cannot make a wrong turn. You’ll find your way, even if it’s not the most direct route. 

Why do I believe this? Because it would be suicide not to. It would be so painful to believe that I missed all my chances in life to do what I wanted most. 

I would really like to know how you could even go on living if you sincerely believed that you could actually make a wrong choice in your life that would impact it forever. (Spoiler alert: you can’t. Mistakes are only more experiences.)

In the end, you have to believe in second chances sometimes, if only to give yourself one. 

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.