Making the Most of Hard Days

February 18, 2019 Whitney Saxon

Today was one of them days. So much so that I played this song for McCoy while we danced around the kitchen, trying to distract him until bedtime.

We woke up early. Well before he did. By the time I saw his smiling face at 7 a.m., I’d worked out, done my quiet time and washed my hair. And conditioned! As I sipped my coffee and he played with his blocks before breakfast, I thought, YES, it was going to be one of those amazingly productive days. But, alas, it was not.

He took short naps, even though he needed long ones. His teeth were hurting and not even a sunshiney walk did the trick, which is a sign because outside is his favorite place. I had a big list of to-dos for his naps (file our taxes! Ship Letter Project candles! Catch up on emails!), but those things slowly slipped away. At bedtime, I tried to snuggle him, but he actually reached for his crib. If he could, I think he would have asked me to put him down and hand him lambie, please.

One of the things having a baby has taught me is to hold every day loosely. The control I once had was really just perception. Or a different season? Maybe both. These days are never the same and each one holds the potential for going totally as planned, or running completely off course. With that in mind, I decided to make a list of the things that always make me feel like I’m winning at life, even when I have almost nothing to show for it :)

A perfect avocado.
Recycling. I know, like, everyone should be doing this. But it still makes me feel like a good person when I drop that milk carton in the green bin.
When I wake up and hot coffee is waiting for me. God bless Chris Saxon.
Cutting all of McCoy’s finger and toe nails. All 20!
Getting in bed before 9:30.
Zero emails in my inbox.
When we actually meal prep. It’s like the fridge fairy filled it up with hummus and pre-cut carrots.
McCoy’s freshly shampooed head. Best smell in the world.
When McCoy takes a shockingly long nap.
Finishing a good book. (Currently: Tell Me More & This Is How It Always Is).

On Learning to Trust Your Gut

October 25, 2017 Whitney Saxon

Last week, I mentioned a lesson from my 20s was learning to trust my body. The lesson my 30s is teaching me is learning to trust my gut.

You know that feeling when you're about to send an email, but you feel like you should wait a few minutes?

Or when you get invited to something and ev.er.y part of you is telling you not to commit, but you say yes anyway?

Or when someone asks you to collaborate, sit on a committee, promote their brand, host their event, etc. and a quiet little voice is saying: ask to sleep on it! But instead you say, of course! before even taking a breath?

That little voice is your gut.

It's strong and powerful. But I've noticed that we, as women, often don't listen to our guts. We trust our moms, sisters, husbands, boyfriends, friends - heck maybe even a cashier - before we trust our guts. We run our decisions up and down our safety lines, assuming everyone around us can provide greater insight into our situations than we could garner on our own.

But you know what? Most of the time, we already know what to do. If we get really quiet, we know how to proceed.

This summer, the pastor at our church talked about decision fatigue in society. We're making hundreds of decisions each day - the internet creating more access, which means more choices. With these choices, our minds are overwhelmed and we're losing the ability to make quick decisions.

In Kenya, Chris and I both noticed that we actually recovered from decision fatigue. We had no social invitations, very little discretion around our daily schedules or eating habits, no TV to watch and nothing to purchase. Each day, we woke up, went to work, worked out, made dinner and got in bed to read one of the three books we'd brought. We ate the same thing for breakfast and lunch each day.

We were making very few decisions and it created more space for our minds to settle. Our simplified lives allowed us to live a bit more freely, creating space for us to trust our guts when we needed to make decisions.

During the sermon at church, our pastor talked about how we, as Christians, often say "I'll pray on it" when we don't want to have to make a tough decision. And then, we ask everybody in our lives what to do. He talked about how God has already equipped us to make small decisions. It honors Him when we trust our guts, because He's speaking to us through them. He has already given us the ability to discern what is right when it comes to day-to-day decisions.

There are a million reasons we don't trust our own instincts. Sometimes, I think it's because women are relational, and inviting people into the decision-making process creates connection with those we love.

Sometimes, I think we're afraid to have the onus on us. If we get enough opinions, we can convince ourselves we all shared the decision, instead of taking complete responsibility for it.

At times, we lack the confidence to really go for it. To be brave enough to say, I know what to do! Because those are bold words.

These days, I'm working on trusting my gut in the big and small decisions. I'm learning to be a little bit bolder and believe that, if I make the wrong choice, it won't be the end of the world, because it creates greater space for grace and self-compassion.

Here's to hoping this lesson doesn't take me a decade to learn :)

PS: If you want to hear more about this topic, I thought this was a great podcast on it from Jen Hatmaker and Glennon Doyle (scroll to episode 6).

// 30 //

September 5, 2016 Whitney Saxon

Today, I turn 30.

I'm saying goodbye to 20 - a transformative, beautiful, hard, scary, painful, joyful decade. If you had told me at 21, when I started this blog while sitting in the intern room at Atlanta magazine, that I would carry it through the rest of the decade, transforming it as I grew up, making internet friends and learning so much from the hard and beautiful parts of sharing your life online with others, I am not sure I would have believed it.

I thought about reflecting on my 20s today, but then I realized that this blog is really just that. It's a journey of what happens when a 21-year-old turns into a 30-year-old while sharing a lot of it online. I am so grateful to many, many of you who have stuck by me through this process.

These days, as I begin to work with more and more 20-somethings, with the hope of guiding them through a decade that can be hard, but so very beautiful, I find myself yearning to champion them, just as you all did for me.

In 2012, right after I turned 26, I drafted an email to myself with 2013 goals. I was at one of my lower points in my 20s - unsure as to why so many of my friends had found husbands, careers they loved and seemed to have it so much more together than me. Unsure as to why I felt like I was hustling so hard and not really getting anywhere.

As one of my three goals for 2013, I wanted to be engaged to or dating my husband by the end of the year. I smile now as I read that email. Who was I to think I could control that? :) It also hurts my heart a little bit as I read it, knowing how frustrated I felt at the time. Knowing how lonely I felt.

I'd like to think that now, at 30, I know better than to think I can predict what a year or decade will hold. Sometimes, maybe I do. Sometimes, I probably still think I can control it.

But, alas, here is what I hope 30 could hold for me:

1. I hope we create a slower life.

We've only just begun exploring the idea of slowing down - from reducing commitments and travel, to spending more time alone, we're trying it out from a lot of angles. We're making more room for play, which I think will be a helpful habit to learn for when we start a family and life is even more hectic.

My 20s were marked by a lot of hustling. From being constantly overly committed, to struggling with perfectionism and trying to please everyone around me, I was often doing a little jig trying to manage it all. As I enter this new decade, I find myself saying: This is who I am and this is the best I can do. I hope we stretch this attitude across the furthest planes of our lives.

2. I hope we put down roots.

Chris and I are pretty open about the fact that we don't see ourselves in Atlanta longterm. Are we against it? Not really. But we also don't feel called to stay for the long haul.

I hope this decade reveals to us where we'll be putting down roots. And then, I hope we cultivate community. I hope we meet our neighbors, join bible studies, get involved in our town and grow deep friendships. Atlanta has brought us beautiful friendships and I hope we carry them with us, too, reminding us constantly of what this decade held.

We've spent a lot of time saying well, we don't know how long we'll be here. In a way, I think this has kept me from going all in. There was a constant feeling of we could leave tomorrow if we really wanted to. I think this allows us to keep from being vulnerable to a place. Admitting that you're going all in on a city, hoping to develop real relationships and pour into it can be scary. I hope we're brave enough to figure out where we'll be and go all in.

3. I hope we start a family.

I don't know when and I don't know how many babies we will get to have. But I hope my 30s mean me holding some little Saxon babes in my arms.

4. I hope we seek adventure and take risks.

Recently, we've spent a lot of time defining what adventure means for us. It's quitting my job. It could be a move to a new town. It could be staying. It could be another trip to Uganda. There is bravery is so many different scenarios - I hope we pursue these adventures whole heartedly, unafraid to take some risks.