This week’s catalyst
is: What’s your philosophy of life? (Tell us a quote that conveys it,
show us photos from it, express in your own words.)

We have the one and only Ali Edwards this week so you must go
visit.



Here are my words:
I made this layout well before the election and I know that these three
little words have such a bigger meaning now but this has always been my
personal motto, so I wanted to put a note to let everyone know it isn’t
politically intended. Regardless of which way you lean politically, I
think believing in yourself and your ability to do anything you want is
a very powerful message for all of us.



Journaling Reads:
There are many things I believe in. The power of love. The generosity of
others. Kindness.



But one particular phrase has now become my philosophy of life.



“Yes, I can.”



Throughout my life, many different people told me about things I
couldn’t do. “With those grades, you can’t get into that college,” “I’m
afraid you can’t sign up for this class, you’re too young,” “You can’t
get that job,” “You can’t learn Japanese at the age of twenty-six,
you’re too old.” These are just a few of the hundreds of such comments
people shared with me.



Encouraging, isn’t it?



Well, it turns out, for me, it is actually encouraging. It turns out I
can’t stand hearing the word “You can’t.” I hate the idea of anyone
telling me what I can or cannot do. So once I hear those words, I
suddenly have all the energy I need to prove them wrong.



A few years ago, I stumbled into this Mark Twain quote, “Keep away from
people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that,
but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.” It
immediately became my favorite quote. I totally agree with what he says.



Small people. I love to prove them wrong.



I believe anyone can succeed at anything they want to. Anyone. I believe
I can do anything I put my mind to. I have. Over and over again. I
believe life is too short to live amongst small people. I believe it’s
important to surround yourself with people who are amazing and to let
them encourage you to be your very best, as well.



Each time you hear that little voice inside you that wonders if you can
achieve something you really want, hear this:



“Yes, you can!”



Trust me.

We posted catalyst
thirty-three over at creative therapy. This week’s catalyst is: If
you had unlimited money to buy someone you know something, what would
you buy and for whom?

Here are my thoughts:

This is one of the few catalysts that had me thinking for a long time.
For some reason, I couldn’t come up with an answer. I thought and
thought. Finally, as I was driving to work one morning, the answer hit
me. I wanted to buy a bookstore, for me. Was it too selfish to use this
money for myself? Maybe. But I decided that’s what my catalyst was going
to be about anyway. Even if others think it’s selfish.

Years ago, I volunteered at this amazing bookstore in New York City.
This store looked the way bookstores should look. It has wooden, spiral
staircases. Tables everywhere for people to sit and browse. A little
coffee shop in the back to relax and enjoy. Fantastic, knowledgeable
staff. And some of the best speakers and authors came to read at the
store. The best part was that the bookstore was completely non-profit.
All the books were donated and all the proceeds went to this
organization that provided shelter and aid to people who were affected
by AIDS.

Ever since my years at that store, I’ve always wanted to have a
nonprofit bookstore of my own. One full of used, donated books. One with
a little coffee shop of its own. One with volunteers who love books as
much as I do. One where people love to visit and where great authors
come to read from their masterpieces. One where all the proceeds are
donated across nonprofits. My passion is education so I would start by
donating to nonprofits that favor education but my hope is that we can
affect change in some way. Even if it’s a tiny one.

This week’s creative therapy’s catalyst
thirty-one. This one was “What’s a novel that has impacted your life
and why?”

Here’s what I wrote:

I read a lot and there are many books that have changed my life. To Kill
a Mockingbird, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Great Expectations and
The Little Prince just to name a few. Each of these books gave me
permanent lessons and made my life different. But Jonathan Livingston
Seagull stands above all of them for mostly one reason. It’s the first
book I read that changed me. It’s the first book that taught me that
books can change you. Change how you look at the world. Change how you
look at yourself. Change the possibilities of your future.

Jonathan Livingston Seagull taught me that it was ok to be different. To
have differing dreams and hopes than the people around you. How it feels
to be judged, but more significantly how it’s ok to be an individual. To
be different. It might even be at that moment that I decided to leave
Turkey one day and find more people like me in the world.

This catalyst
was on someone you admire. Again, an easy one for me.

I knew from the first moment I read this catalyst that it would be about
my husband. My husband and I met and started dating fourteen years ago.
When I first met him, I admired him for his sense of humor, for this
confidence and ability to enjoy life every day. He was so much fun to be
around and always made me smile. I tend to be a “glass-half-empty” kind
of gal most of the time so being around him was pure joy.

As the years passed, I admired him for his intelligence and ability to
work hard, make good friends and seamlessly succeed in the “real” world.
He still continued to be fun, but now he was much more than that.

And then even more time passed and we got married and we built a life
together and we had a baby. And I’ve learned to admire my husband even
more. He’s patient. He’s kind. He’s loving. He’s generous. This is not
to say we haven’t had rough times or even questioned things over the
years. But we’ve always stuck with each other. We’ve always believed in
each other and each time I was weak, he was there to be strong for both
of us. He’s everything I’ve ever needed in my life from a husband, and
even more importantly, from a best friend.

This is for creative
therapy catalyst twenty-seven: tell us about a painful memory.

Journaling Reads:

This one is really painful. Maybe my most painful memory ever.

Years ago, I was fourteen, or maybe a little younger. In the summer, we
lived on this island and there were two groups of kids my age. The group
I belonged to and the other one. One day, we were upstairs in the club
house and the guy from my group was talking to a guy from the other
group and he said, “Well the only ugly girl in our group is Karen. All
the girls in your group are ugly.”

That’s it. That’s all it is. That tiny moment that the guy probably
doesn’t even remember. I’m sure he doesn’t remember. Why would he? It
was nothing to him. A few cruel words. Maybe not even cruel to him.
Maybe it was his honest opinion. He didn’t know I was there. He wasn’t
trying to hurt me.

But it did.

I was there. I heard it. It broke me. Permanently. Twenty years later, I
still feel like the ugliest girl. The only ugly girl in a group. In
every group. I look at myself and I am incapable of seeing anything
else. It’s the reason I’m always the girl who’s behind the camera and
not in front of it. It’s the reason I don’t dance. It scarred me then.
It scars me now. Just writing this down brings tears to my eyes, all
these years later.

It’s amazing how a teeny tiny moment has completely changed my life. My
personality. My self-confidence. The way I look at myself. The way I
carry myself. The way I think of myself. The way I see myself. Looking
at it now, it seems silly that I should have let it ruin how I see
myself. But I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know how to actually
let it go. It’s such a core part of who I am. It has become a fact such
a long time ago that I don’t know how to relearn. How to reform my
opinions of myself. It’s like redefining who I am.

It’s amazing how an ephemeral moment can leave such permanent scars.

This week’s creative
therapy catalyst is: “what’s something you fear?”

Here’s my
art. Journaling Reads:

When I first thought about this topic, I was going to take the easy
route. I was going to write about the dark. I’m afraid of the dark. Not
too much. Not enough to have to leave the lights on. But enough to feel
uneasy. Enough to rush through the dark to get to the light.

But that’s too easy.

There are so many other things I’m afraid of. I am afraid of being
alone. I grew up with friends who weren’t really my friends and who
tried to get out of inviting me to events as often as they could. Thus,
I’ve always felt unwanted. I’ve also always been a bit different from
the rest of my family so I grew up with a sense of not belonging.
Coupling the two makes me someone who’s really scared of being alone.
Someone who always thinks that the people around her will flee at the
first opportunity. I worry about this constantly. Even with Jake, who’s
been with me for fourteen years. I still think that, given the
opportunity, he would leave.

So I thought I would make my art about being alone. But then I realized
that there’s something I fear even more than that. Something so close to
my core that it makes me scared just thinking about it.

I am afraid of having a life unlived. A life of unrealized potential.

A life of never having had the guts. Never having tried.

Of all the things I could think of, this scares me the most. I want to
live life fully. I want to be able to look back and feel no remorse.
Feel no guilt. I don’t want to wish I could do it over again. I don’t
want to regret anything.

I always want to do so much and accomplish so much. My todo lists are
never below 30 items. But I want to make the time to reflect. To love.
To share. To be spontaneous. I want to turn my life upside down
occasionally just so I can relearn everything. So I can be sure I still
feel the same way about my decisions. I don’t want to take anything for
granted. Not a moment of my life wasted.

What scares me the most is being too scared to truly live.