Britt Skrabanek

Goat Repartee

Like anyone else, there are moments when social media chaps my ass.

The time sucking factor. The guerilla warfare book marketing tactics – zombie erotica…I think I’ll pass. But, it’s free on Amazon this weekend. I’ll still pass. And, the selfies. So many, many selfies.

For better or worse, social media is a communication tool.

Whether we love it or we hate it, it’s there for us to interact with people anywhere in the world, to express our thoughts, dreams, and opinions, to try to make it out there when you’re a one-woman indie author show like yours truly.

I admit it. At first I didn’t know how in the hell to use social media properly, especially Twitter which was a complete mystery. No, I wasn’t ever the hardcore zombie erotica book salesman that you wanted to strangle.

I always understood that social media was about reaching people from a personal standpoint, not by going apeshit and throwing poop at their faces while screaming “Look at me, damnit!”.

Instead, you have to go the baby chimpanzee route: make odd and adorable faces constantly, cling just enough to show your softer side, build a kick ass community to keep you warm and safe, and share the love for cyber hugs.

(Not sure what’s going on with the primates in this post…my sincerest apologies. I’ll get to goats soon, I promise.)

Anyways, I used to try to keep up with everybody and everything and I almost lost my damn mind. That’s not how you use social media, unless you want to end up in the loony bin trying to rub off that hashtag forehead tattoo you thought was a bitchin’ idea.

Over the past six months, I’ve scaled back a lot of my social media playtime. I’m a busy gal, so I tend to concentrate on deeper connections with some and let the rest just keep on streamin’.

Yet, last week something truly magnificent happened, a legendary dialogue, one for the social media history books. While feces flew all around, the baby chimps were making cute conversation and playing social media the right way.

I simply had to share…

The Players: Sheila, Carrie, Letizia, and Me

The Scene: Twitter

The Muse: Goat

The End

Clearly if you’re not following us gals on Twitter, you’re missing out. Feel free to chime in about goats or other subjects if goats aren’t your thing.

Sheila – @SheilaHurst11

Carrie – @carrie_rubin

Letizia – @readinterrupt

Me – @brittskrabanek

Me and My Shadow

Hey, Shadow.

Hey, Britt. What’s going on with you?

Eh, nothing. Ok, everything.

Emotional tug-of-war time again?

Yes, Shadow.

Why the struggle?

You ask a lot of questions, Shadow.

Hey, you haven’t spoken to me in a while. Got the feeling you wanted me to help you out.

No, you’re right. Sorry, sometimes you just get too close and it bothers me.

Britt, I’m your shadow.

Oh, right. Well, for a while now – the past four months or so – I’ve been trying to run away from myself. From you, too.

Ah geez, not that again. Britt, you know you can’t do that.

I know. But, sometimes it seems like being somewhere else – a new place, a new life – will be what I need. The happiness will be right there waiting for me.

That’s because you’re a gypsy. The gypsy yearns to roam because she fears that settling isn’t living. But there’s something pretty effing beautiful about rooting, Britt.

I’ve been thinking about that.

You’re you, dragging my shadowy ass behind you. No matter where you are, no matter what you do. We’re right there, through thick and thin.

That’s why I’ve decided to stay this time.

Really? No escapism for Britt Skrabanek?

Shadow, don’t be absurd. I’ll always have fiction.

Naturally. But otherwise, you’re gonna keep on keepin’ on?

Yeah.

I’m proud of you. Shocked as hell, but proud.

Thanks, Shadow. I’ve tried on a lot of different lives, traipsed across these United States searching for myself – for a place to fit in, for a place to call home.

Ha! You…fit in somewhere?

Delusional, I know.

Sounds like you don’t give a shit about that anymore.

I don’t. Because I’m kind of serene. Right here in this tiny city of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, U.S.A. I know where the potholes are in the streets, I have a favorite tree, and when the seasons change I feel alive.

You sure that’s grand enough for you, Britt?

Shadow, I’ve lived in grander cities before. Turns out, I’m not a grandiose kind of girl.

So, you’re cool right here?

Yes. Right here with my day job in my colorless cubicle. Right here teaching Yoga and seeing peace for the first time. Right here writing with all of my soul, exposing my vulnerability and being OK with that.

I’m happy for you, Britt. You’re home.

I like the way that sounds…I’m home.

Good, I was tired of chasing your crazy ass.

Damn, Shadow. Tell me how you really feel.

You know I don’t hold back with you.

You’re alright, Shadow. You’re alright.

So are you, Britt.

Hey, Shadow?

Yes, Britt?

Thanks for listening.

Any time. I’m always here when you need me.

De-plane, De-stress

Many of you read The Life Enthusiast Chronicles with Jessica from Notes of Nomads earlier this week. Jessica kicked off this new monthly series around here with gusto, don’t you think?

Now I’m over at her place, wearing my All the Way Yoga hat for my very first guest post in blogging history! (Sorry, I’m like an excitable pet sometimes.)

The question…how in the Sam hell does one stay healthy and happy when traveling? The answer…de-plane and de-stress.

Five things need to happen promptly when you arrive to make you feel awesome. Take a short trip over to Notes of Nomads to check out The Grounded Nomad: Travel Yoga & Wellbeing.

Bonus! There’s a free Yoga video, so you can practice along with yours truly. No travel plans? Writers and desk jockeys…this video’s for your butts, too!

The Life Enthusiast Chronicles with Jessica

I’ve always believed that life is a playground, a bright place where we can be free – to laugh, to cry, to see, to hear, to love, and to hurt. A life enthusiast is one who plays with a sense of abandon, like a child who is awe-inspired by every little thing.

After pussyfooting around for some time, I’m finally starting this monthly guest series…The Life Enthusiast Chronicles. In these posts lovely individuals will share what makes them all gung ho about life.

First up is Jessica Korteman, a blogger pal of mine over at Notes of Nomads who, together with her genius photographer husband Hai, deliver the magnificence of travel. Jessica is very much the epitome of a life enthusiast. Indiana Jones in female form, she traipses around the world, fearless and full of grace, showing the rest of us at home how authentically beautiful people and places truly are.

Connect with Jessica at Notes of Nomads on Twitter and Facebook.

Take it away, Jess…

When Britt asked me to be a part of her new ‘Life Enthusiast’ series, I couldn’t have been happier to be involved.

Not only is she one of my personal inspirations, I simply loved the concept – a series that focuses on positivity and taking life by the proverbial horns, one of my personal mottos!

Take out a pen and write down the things that make you happy, and I guarantee the affirmation of putting them to paper will change something in you.

Here are some of my penned thoughts that make me enthusiastic about life and everything in it. Woot! Woot!

1. A new stamp in my passport

As a traveller, there’s something so immensely satisfying about getting a new stamp in my passport. It’s not so much the material thing, although some can be pretty cool to look at(!), it’s what they represent. Another stamp equals another country visited, a new culture experienced, more foreign foods eaten and special friends made.

With this stamp, I know a little bit more about this amazing world we live in. It’s a visual representation of all the places I have been, but also of all the places I have yet to see. “Oh, the places you’ll go!” Even Dr. Seuss knew that was something to get excited about!

Stamp in passport — Getting stamped. In the past four months, I’ve used about 15% of my new passport already!

2. Being lost in translation

This may sound like an odd thing to say, but I absolutely love the feeling of being lost (as in having no idea) in another culture. Living in Japan for four years, I got used to being in an almost constant state of not-knowingness and I was completely comfortable with that. Far from causing stress, it just fascinated and challenged me further.

I think I was the only person who floated out of the local post office proud as punch with myself for successfully getting through a conversation about an overseas package, insurance and that letter I needed to send. They may sound like small, even tiresome, tasks to a local or someone well versed in a language, but for me, I had just completed this goal I set myself in a foreign land, in a foreign language, and I did it!

And, believe me, supermarket shopping doesn’t get any more fun than when you can’t read the packaging! Sure, it can be hit and miss, but I love that adventure! You get super creative and you find so many gems that you probably would never have tried if you could understand and just stuck to what you know.

Lost in translation — Taiyaki – a waffle cake in the shape of a fish with various fillings. What will be inside this one?

3. A hot cup of tea

I’m a big tea drinker. Everything feels that bit better with a hot cup of tea, don’t you think? It wakes you up, revives, lulls you to sleep and brings friends together. It’s those small moments you take for yourself that give you what you need to conquer life’s bigger stuff, and I’m a big believer in “smelling the roses” as they say.

4. The changing of the seasons

I adore that period of change between the seasons. There are some temperatures I prefer to be sure, but there is something I love about every season and the changing weather makes me excited for all the special things about that time of year – holidays, events, different foods and a change of wardrobe!

It’s the very fleeting nature of seasons that make us appreciate them. The brief appearance of the blooming cherry blossoms in Japan has to be one of the most beautiful and energizing things you’ll experience.

Despite seeing them every year, the Japanese never grow tired of them. There’s always an air of excitement as locals monitor the cherry blossom front and prepare for their “hanami” – cherry blossom viewing – parties! Everyone takes time to admire them and you value this shared time with family and friends.

In the tsunami affected area of Ishinomaki, the blooming cherry blossoms have become a symbol of hope and recovery.

5. Being helped by a stranger

Nothing restores my faith in humanity more than a helping hand from a stranger. It’s these wonderful, unexpected moments of kindness that have shaped some of my most precious travel memories.

The selflessness of these generous strangers continues to inspire me to pay it forward. If we put positive energy out there into the universe, the world is generally a happier and better place, wouldn’t you agree?

Helped by stranger — Being helped across an icy cold river by one of the “pony men” in the Indian Himalayas.

Have you reached for that pen yet? Do any of the same things make you tick? I’d love to know in the comments section below!

I am still learning

You know something? I heard a lot of silly notions about becoming a grown-up.

Like somewhere along the way I was going to stoop down, pick up a bag of guaranteed answers, open it, and breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

After high school, I would go to a prestigious college and obtain a dazzling degree in four years flat. During that time, I would work some ridiculous jobs, but take solace knowing they were only temporary. Once I had that degree, respectful employment would be mine for the taking.

Once I finished college, I would have a flourishing career, one that would pay off my student loans and offer a lifetime of stability, gratefully insured and saving for mecca…retirement. My job would never feel like work. I would wake up every day, drink my coffee and dress the part, and go to the office, smiling because I was content with just making money.

With all of this money, I would buy an over-sized house and a luxury car, both more than I could afford because they would symbolize success, that I had arrived. Besides, I would need these accessories to match my life’s outfit. Being a good adult means looking like you have your shit together, even when you don’t.

Yeah, things didn’t pan out like that for me.

I had all the grades to go to any college I wanted, but there was a reluctance inside of me. If my rebellious side would have put her big girl pants on, I’m pretty sure I would have passed on the higher education thing altogether. Instead, I got in line and chose a random college, transferred to some others, studied abroad, and six years later I had that sparkling piece of paper.

I held it in my hands, unconvinced by its magical powers. So, I tucked it inside of my dresser drawer, underneath some neatly folded sweaters, and continued working my high-end retail sales job for several more years. I made a ton of money, lived in a loft with a downtown view, and I screwed off.

I delayed the adult.

Then, I moved to a smaller city to become an artist, a dance teacher and a writer. I downsized everything – ditched my car and holed up in a tiny apartment decorated with used furniture – and strangely, I felt much better, like myself. I spent a lot of time working in sweatpants, feeling rewarded, but too poor to keep it up.

Now I have a steady paycheck. I juggle my creative desires on the side.

I have insurance, but no cushy retirement fund to be excited about. Because I don’t want retirement to be it – my one dream. I want to live now, experience everything I can, savor the journey because that is truly the dream.

Isn’t destination just a fancier word for the end?

At my Yoga teacher graduation last June, I didn’t hear promises of grandeur. Instead of wearing my honors sash, cap, and gown, I was barefoot with prayer beads hanging around my neck. Instead of a shiny piece of paper, I held a certificate filled with seeds for planting new growth and a slender box of incense for reflection.

There is only one answer I have found in this past year, on the very last page of “Light on Life” by Iyengar, written exquisitely by one of the world’s masters of Yoga, who still practices three hours each day at the age of 90.

This man of infinite wisdom nearing the end of his life honors a gentle humility by quoting Spanish artist Goya. At 78 years old, deaf and debilitated, Goya said “Aún aprendo”.

I am still learning.