Pathways to Peace
One of the key lessons I learned from Don Miguel Ruiz’s The Four Agreements is that as young children we’re nurtured in such a way that leaves us with rules and a way of living that we don’t even question. For many of us, we become aware of these rules when we try to deviate from them and experience tension. When this happens, we are faced with a decision to make. Will we choose to remain in the confines of what we know and in doing so keep our regulators - family, society, religion - happy? Or will we honor our knowing and begin creating our own rules?
The path to peace is not one of lavender essential oil and guided meditations. It is the process of acknowledging our inner desires and making them our reality. In better words by Don Miguel Ruiz,
Every human is an artist. The dream of your life is to make beautiful art.
If any of you are artists or have been to an artist’s studio then you will know that the process of making beautiful art is messy. It is also, at times, an arduous journey.
I’ve always thought of peace as appeasing everyone around me, and for most of my life that is exactly what I did. And last year, when I found myself alone in my apartment I started to realize the depth of the dissatisfaction I had with the life I had been living. It was not mine. I was keeping the peace, but I did not have peace.
My pathway to peace has been dismantling all the rules that I’ve lived by. It has been questioning my religion. It is assessing my relationships. It is trying to determine the terms that I want to live by and also giving room to myself to change too. None of this is easy, but each day I am becoming more proud of the life that I am living.
As I said in the first post, this is a journey to disappointing others so I don’t disappoint myself. It is realizing that if I wait to receive permission to live my life, I will likely be waiting in perpetuity. And who has time to wait, especially when tomorrow is not promised?
I used to think that life was in the answers after the tension dissipates, but I’m realizing more and more that life is in the tension and in the questions. This is the beauty of it. So remember, you’re an artist and it is your responsibility to create beautiful art (that is especially pleasing to you).
Half Way, Half Way
I cannot believe that today is day 10 of 20 and I am officially half way through this challenge. I am absolutely surprised by myself because prior to this challenge I don’t think I have been so consistent in dedicating time to my craft. At the height of a previous iteration of this website, I would post once a week at most. Now I am writing everyday?
I wanted to take stock of what I have learned at the half way mark, and hope to inspire you to start. On March 16th, I was lamenting to my friend Tiwa about my life and work woes. She stopped me dead in my tracks and asked me what was stopping me from beginning and why I had all these reasons why I couldn’t be a writer. I am not going to lie, it was a tough conversation to sit in and recognize that perhaps the only thing in my way is me. She made me promise I would write and promote myself across Instagram, Twitter and LinkedIn, but most importantly that I would write everyday. So she asked me, how many days are you going to challenge yourself to do this? And I said, “20.”
There is no significance to the number. It was really just the first thing that came into my head, and as soon as I said it I instantly regretted it. I wrote in my journal later that night,
I don’t think I’ve achieved that level of consistency in my writing for a very long time, and maybe not even ever. But I don’t want to be scared. I want to be excited.
I was scared. I genuinely didn’t know what I was going to write about everyday and if anyone would even want to read what I have to say, but Tiwa reminded me that success only occurs when we take action. There was never going to be the right time or enough time. The time is now.
In this process, I’m reminded that I looooove writing. This is my safe place, this is where I can express myself most easily. Not only do I love writing, but I am a talented writer. This isn’t because of external praise, but because I feel most powerful when I sit down at my dining table, open up my laptop and start typing. I feel like the best version of myself.
I also learned that I will not always like what I write. I will also not always want to write, and it’s normal. I am loosening the ties perfectionism has on me in doing this because I have to show up every single day, and I am not perfect. It feels like such a relief to say that. I am not perfect… but I am enough.
Dr Maya Angelou said that creativity can’t be used up. The more you use, the more you have. So when I started fearfully, worried of not having anything to say, with each day I have found that I do have something to say. I have a voice. The more time I spend contemplating and trying to articulate revelations, the more I discover the depth of the creativity in me. This craft is like a garden that needs tending, and I am a gardener caring for my flowers, watching them grow, and hopeful that they will bloom.
Half way, half way. I know that I will complete this challenge because I now believe in me.
I am so incredibly grateful to be writing everyday, and to feel like it is possible to get everything that I want out of this life. I am thankful that you are coming on this journey with me, and letting me know the impact these posts are having on you.
Thank you.
The Productivity Trap
As a society, we have a preoccupation with productivity. YouTube is filled with ‘my 6AM morning routine’ videos. There are so many books on time management and how to do more with our time. If you’re anything like me, you’re a multi-hyphenate spending your day on the clock and night on your side hustles or projects. I am always trying to do more with my time, and feel like I’m falling short.
It sometimes feel like we’re on a treadmill and someone is adjusting my incline perpetually. We are constantly trying to keep up. We are constantly trying to create the perfect bio. Like, why am I not able to work my 12-hour job, workout, run my NGO, be a blogger, pray, be a good friend, be a good sister, be a good daughter, and find time for rest?
You see, when we have a society that assigns value based on our ability to be productive there is little room for much else. So we get into these endless cycles of striving to do more and trying to ‘make the most’ of each day, but to what end?
Want to hear a secret? We weren’t made to work.
We were made to be. Who are you without work?
Call A Friend
Every Monday for most of this year, I have a call with my two beautiful friends Catherine and Jane. Every 8PM on Monday, we have an opportunity to catch up with each other. We met in college and became close friends after going on a mission trip to Puerto Rico together. Each week, this phone call has been a lifeline for me.
Since graduating from college, maintaining friendships has been difficult at times. We are all so busy, and have such differing schedules. Most of us now are so far apart, and after a long day another video call is the opposite of what I want. But each week, this call is what I need.
We create space for each other to lament, to celebrate wins, and we pray. Monday’s went from being a day that I often dread, but now I look forward to this call because no matter what is going on in our lives or how hard the day has been we have each other.
It is so easy to feel alone and misunderstood, but when I call my friends I feel seen and I am reminded that there is so much I have to look forward to. After our call tonight, I am filled with so much hope for this week and this new season we are entering into.
Call a friend, and let them love on you. Share your joy and pain. Thank me later.
Begin Again
I have always been a very goal oriented person. I love spending the end of the month assessing my wins, how close I was to achieving my targets, and re-strategizing for the month ahead. I am so excited to when there seems to be a plan I can use to achieve the results I want to see. Sometimes though, we cannot create SMART goals towards some changes we would like to see. When it comes to the inner work, there is no real timeline and change is oftentimes non-linear.
March has been a tough month for me. The first few weeks I was struggling with isolation and stress from work, which felt like a setback to my goals, namely:
Write and read like my purpose depends on it (because it does)
Workout 5x weekly
Build my professional network
The first two weeks, I really felt like I was not making any progress at all. When I flip through my journal and read what I was going through then I’m reminded of how lost I really felt. On March 8th I wrote, “I feel hope and confidence slipping through my fingers.“ Not great.
Despite it all, things slowly began to shift as I focused less so on the rigidity of the plan I had to achieve my March goals but I focused on rest. When I was able to rest, to sleep, to nourish myself, I was able to give more of myself to all the demands of my day. So looking towards April, I choose to reset. I choose not to look at all I didn’t do and didn’t quite achieve because I made progress.
I am reading a book I am absolutely loving, and although I have not finished it this month I am savoring every bit of it. Maybe I’ll write a review here for you all.
On average, I worked out 3.5 times a week which is way better than nothing.
I sent out the emails, reached out to folks, and although I didn’t hear back from many of them I put myself out there. I also attended my first Black Women in Finance virtual event which was absolutely amazing.
After a really hard day, I knew I didn’t want the residue of the difficulty to seep into the next day so I started a ritual. I would have a long steaming hot shower (yes, I like to parboil a bit in the shower) and rinse off all of the day. Then I would change for bed, put on some perfume, and write it all out in my journal. I would purge all my emotions to get it all out. This was really tough for me at times because I often felt very validated by my frustrations, but I also knew sitting in it was not good for me. The next morning after my devotionals, I would write three things I am grateful for from the previous day. This is my process for feeling my feelings in a way that makes me feel safe and empowered. Some weeks it felt like I was choosing to begin again every single day, and sometimes that is what it takes.
So as April approaches, I want to run my race well. Hebrews 12:1-2 says, Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. 2 We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith.
As we enter into spring, I want to assess what are the things that deplete my energy and how I can avoid them. I want to focus on my rest and live my life centering stillness. I feel like I am always trying to find time for rest, but I want to flip things round. I also want to come up with my own definition of success so that my goals are continuously steering me in that direction. Because there are so many good things I could have as goals for myself, but not all good things are good for me.
Every new month, week, day, hour is an opportunity to begin again. And while there is still breath in your lungs, you have the power to begin again.
The Saturday Report: Vol 1
We have officially crossed the year mark for the COVID-19 pandemic, and everything has changed. COVID-19 has affected every facet of our lives and has also made us acutely aware of the preciousness of life. For the next two Saturday’s, I will be writing about health and unpacking what wellness looks like for me.
For so much of my life I really only thought about the aesthetic value of my body. I was always too big, wished I had a smaller waist, worked fervently for abs but I never really had to think about my actual health or wellbeing. After all, I’m 24 years old and ‘healthy’. Despite all of this, the pandemic had me constantly anxious about my health. If I started to feel a sore throat I would freak out and attempt all the home remedies I could think about. If I felt the sniffles coming along I would steam my face with eucalyptus oil. Mind you, for the first four months of the pandemic I did not leave my apartment and I was living on my own. My fears were largely irrational, but I had spent most of December and January in a really sad haze. I managed to get out of it by February, and had all these plans to make sure my spirits were high… then the pandemic.
The pandemic made me realize that I actually really want to be here, and I am so thankful to be here. So I began a journey of becoming my healthiest self - body, mind, and soul. I started to appreciate my body outside of its potential aesthetic value, but for its functionality. I would wake up in the morning and thank God that I could inhale and exhale on my own as so many people throughout the world fought and are fighting for their lives on ventilators. My goal shifted from wanting to lose weight and be in a smaller body, but to nourish my body with nutrient-rich foods and to move. I wanted to be able to live my life to the absolute fullest to the best of my ability.
In shifting away from toxic diet culture, I’ve become a strong proponent of body neutrality, focusing on what our bodies can do rather than what they look like. Body trends shift so often and it has become so exhausting trying to attain anything other than the best version of me. I am more than my appearance, and I choose to loosen myself from the pursuit of physical attractiveness. As my friend Tiwa always says, I matter simply because I exist. I have developed a deep amount of respect for all that my body is able to do for me, all the bodily functions that I take for granted as they happen effortlessly inside of me.
I went to my primary care physician for the first time in years and did full blood work. I got some slightly alarming results, but at least now I feel armed with the information to course correct. I hate that it is a privilege in America to have access to quality health care, but I acknowledge this privilege that I have. But if you have access to healthcare and you haven’t seen your primary care physician or GP in a year, schedule an appointment to see them some time soon.
Right now, taking care of my body means making sure I get at least 7 hours of sleep each night. This is hard during the work week, but I’m making a lot of effort to make this a priority. It also means eating intuitively and ensuring I have variety in what I eat. Now that spring is upon us, it also means going outside and enjoying the sun against my skin. This might all seem obvious and easy, but some days it’s not. Taking care of yourself isn’t always #cute, but it is always necessary.
If you are reading this, I am thankful you are here. I am thankful that your body has sustained you throughout the past year and sincerely hope it continues to. What is one kind thing you can do for yourself this week? It doesn’t have to be big, but you have to promise you will try to do it at least once.
Follow me across my social media pages (@alexajohara) to catch up with me during the week when I’m not here. Sometimes I post cool things.
I Can Do Hard Things
Lately it has been hard to get out of bed. I wake up to my 6AM alarm and I groan. Some days I am able to whisper affirmations to myself and gently rise, but for the past few days it has been tough. I think the pandemic is getting to me. The monotony of my days, the isolation, and generally feeling like a fish out of water at work. It’s hard.
So today as soon as the clock turned 6 o’clock, I logged out of work and shut down my computer. I changed into my workout gear and I went on a run. The weather was glorious. The sun was shining and the wind was dancing in the air. I put on a guided run and the trainer said, you can do hard things.
It was really simple, but it struck me. I can do hard things. Even when it is hard to get out of bed, I get out. Even when I don’t want to workout so early in the morning, I show up. Even when I feel lost at work, I ask questions and try to absorb all that I can.
I think sometimes we need to give ourselves more credit. Maybe you should celebrate that even though things may absolutely suck right now, you are doing the best you can.
You can do hard things.
Cultivate Your Imagination
Twice a month I serve on the kid’s team at my church where I lead them through different Bible stories and activities. Each time I serve, I am in awe of their imagination. They are able to conjure up these wacky and fascinating stories with such ease. They are able to think of worlds with endless possibilities.
I look at them and wonder at what point does our imagination begin to wane? Somehow as I have gotten older, pragmatism has captured my ability to dream and explore. I’ve had so many reasons for why I didn’t want to pursue writing: who reads blogs, who cares about what I have to say, is it even possible to make money as a writer?
All these ‘practical’ things stopped me from even just imagining, but the truth is that the kids I teach on Sunday’s don’t imagine with any end goal in mind. They imagine because they can. They imagine because at the crux of it, we are made to create. When we choose not to honor this, I really think we do ourselves and the world a disservice.
If you are wondering how you can cultivate your imagination, it’s really quite simple. Begin creating. For me this looks like writing in my journal everyday, cooking new meals every week, listening to music and creating my own dances to them. Sometimes it is admiring other people’s creations through watching movies, reading a book or making different mood boards on Pinterest. Put yourself in the environment to ignite your inner child.
I will admit, my imagination is not as wild as I wish it was. I don’t (yet) have the idea that will lead to my first New York Times best selling novel or Emmy-award winning screenplay, and right now this doesn’t matter. Because I know that my imagination is there, somewhere deep within me, and I have to call her out again. And I know that if I permit myself I can create truly beautiful things, and I will.
Your imagination is like a garden. It needs good soil. It needs nurturing. It needs patience. Like a garden, it cannot be rushed. You simply have to tend to it diligently, and it will bloom.
Can We Control Our Thoughts?
Thank you to Eseosa for inspiring this post.
In January I started a new role at work. I’d been wanting a change for some time and was thankful to be in a rotational program that allows me to explore and figure out what kind of work I want to do. I had just come back from two weeks in Lagos with my family, but upon coming back I became overwhelmed by a flurry of anxiety. Some of my friends were recovering from COVID, a close family friend passed away from COVID and another family friend who was like a grandma to me died suddenly. So there I was, alone in my apartment worrying, mourning and desperately trying to show up fully at my new role.
I was expecting myself to be more than okay. It was a new year, I didn’t want to be sad and instead of just allowing myself to feel my feelings I became extremely self-critical. My thought life was a mess.
If I found myself confused at work or not clear about how to do something:
Alexa, why are you so stupid? You can’t be making mistakes like this. Get it together.
If I found myself unable to sleep, trying hard to remember the last thing I said to my family friend:
Why can’t you remember? You should have gone to visit her when you were in Lagos. Why are you even this sad? She wasn’t your grandma, imagine how her actual grandchildren are feeling.
If I found myself feeling lonely:
Girl, you were alone in this apartment for 7 months last year. You should be used to this by now.
These thoughts were wearing me down, and if I’m being honest I really felt like I was burning out. I started reading back on my journal entries and trying to reflect on all these feelings I was having, and it was so clear what the problem was. I was trying to be perfect.
I’ve been a recovering perfectionist for the past three years, but the thing about perfectionism is that it is truly seductive. The belief that one could be perfect is like dangling the forbidden fruit in front of Eve. It is a lie that tells us it is possible to be without pain and to avoid the uncomfortable moments in life. But in my recovery I’m learning that life is in the pain and discomfort. Life doesn’t happen after it dissipates, but it is in experiencing all of it.
So I started journaling everyday asking myself the same question, so what are you saying about yourself?
Instead of saying all those awful thoughts I wrote earlier, I wanted to challenge myself to write what I really want to say, what I would want a friend to say to me, and what I needed to hear:
Alexa, there is no way you would be used to being alone even after spending seven months alone last year because it is not supposed to be like. Living through a pandemic is immeasurably difficult and isolating. Getting used to this would be accepting that this is normal when it is everything but.
You will be okay though, that I know. In the midst of it all last year, you thrived when and where you could. You will do the same again and again because that is who you are.
You started a new role with people you don’t know and have never met before. It’s freaking weird. You are in a whole new world where you are learning everything from scratch. Give yourself time to learn, to make mistakes and to grow. But never forget the power of your voice. Ask questions and speak up. If you don’t get responses that’s on them, but do your part. Starting a new role is tough, starting a new role in a virtual setting is tougher. Show yourself some grace and compassion everyday.
My love, there is much to mourn. The past 12 months have been an onslaught of death and bad news. You are still mourning the life you once had, the experiences you could have had, the moments you have missed. You are mourning the countless lives that have been taken from us because of this virus. You are mourning those that you know who have died. You are mourning who you were as a reckoning is taking place inside of you. Cry, and cry well. This is important. Mourning, grief, sadness, weariness, lethargy, and all the ickiness right now were all created by The Artist. This should be your response to all that you have experienced, and feeling it all makes you far more normal than you realize. Even if you get scared and it all feels too much, please remember that joy comes in the morning.
My friend Eseosa asked me, how do I control my thoughts? I don’t but I try not to let them control me. What I can do is remind myself of the Truth. I can recognize the lies I tell myself and stop them in their tracks. We spend so much time in our heads and trust ourselves so much that we think all our thoughts are valid, but they’re not always. I truly believe that mastering our thoughts is freedom and for me it starts with this simple awareness.
So, what are you saying about yourself?
Things That Bring Me Joy
Thank you to Catherine Ohrt for inspiring today’s post.
So what brings you joy?
A few months ago I attended a community gathering called A Conversation About Womanhood via Zoom. We were talking about dealing with and living through grief, and one of the panelists, Subomi Ajibola, said that in order to live through and amidst grief we must rejoice. She said that to rejoice is to reclaim our joy, and I’ve been sitting with this definition since then. The process of reclamation is claiming something back, which means, according to Subomi, that our joy is inherent and immutable.
My joy is my mother’s heartbeat after months of being far apart, nestling my head in her chest and listening to my first melodies again.
My joy is in the silence we share each day, on the phone and worlds apart. Seeing her reminds me where I come from and that I have a home.
My joy is turning down the volume of my computer and turning up the volume of music. Sometimes it is just my voice, and sometimes it is a song. My joy is in the rhythm that transports me to different places and new feelings.
My joy is waking up at 8AM on Saturday mornings as the sun peaks her head into my bedroom then floods it with her light. It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me.
My joy is being heard and seen.
My joy is laughter.
My joy is the cacophony of New York that reminds me so much of Lagos.
My joy is wearing perfume before bed because I can.
My joy is watching reality television and basking in the vast iterations of life that are possible.
My joy is writing because there was a time when I thought I would never write again after my laptop was stolen and I felt like my words were taken from me.
My joy is in overcoming.
My joy is in spontaneous nights in Williamsburg with my friend Anna that remind me I’m still alive.
My joy is lighting a candle and letting the smell waft throughout my space.
My joy is me, the happy and sad, the inspired and tired, the restless and self-assured.
Joy resides in me at all times. Joy resides in you at all times.
What are you waiting for?
Rejoice! Claim back your joy.