Bravery

bravery

“We don’t develop courage by being happy every day. We develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity.” -Barbara de Angelis

I am going to ask you to set an intention towards your biggest dream. See it there in front of you and think about what it will take from you to accomplish it. Drop all your fears, shut out the noise and all judgments. Plan to jump over any assumed hurdle, and even if it is just for one second, believe in it. Take a deep breath in, and know that you are stronger than you think. Now, take a deep breath out exhaling out any left over doubt. Make a change today towards your biggest dreams, and ask for the strength to take on all of your best intentions. Say how you feel, but be mindful that afterwards it might be uncomfortable. If you aren’t happy where you work, leave the job you hate to ensure that you love what you do. Make a timeline for your next adventure so that it will refresh you. Keep working hard. Dig into your passions, and revisit them often. When there is love available, cherish ever moment with every ounce of your heart. Stand up for things that matter, don’t settle, and never apologize for whom you are. Be where your feet are and remember you are never going backwards. Today, I am asking you to be fucking brave.

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Almost Thirty

Almost Thirty

From a very young age I have always been a writer; I just haven’t always been writing. I made a goal to myself a couple of years ago to have my first book published by age 30. unfortunately, in a couple of weeks I am going to be thirty, and I am not ready to publish my book yet. What I did well as a young writer was freely write exactly and whatever was in my thoughts or top of my mind. I did not worry about what others might think if they picked it up and read it and everything I wrote down was raw, unedited, and straight from my heart. My elementary diary entries give me a variety of different emotions that I truly hope I can accomplish in my current early thirties writings. Some pages are full of stories and statements that make me laugh out loud, and other pages and entries quickly bring me to tears.

There were sections of story telling were I told my readers about the 4th grade dance and what boy I was crushing on that moment, there was a goals section where not only did I write out my “request” but I came back around and logged my results. One of my personal favorites was my “update section” which was ultimately my very own gossip column where I updated the relationships in my life as well as other relationships that were going on with my classmates. There was a prayer section, (which is often the section that can make me cry) where I would ask God to listen and grant my prayers. I asked to please make Granny well when she was sick, I asked God why Granny did not like me anymore, and I asked him what would happen to me when Granny died.

The flow was not exactly right when connecting one thought, or story to the next but it doesn’t seem to stop anyone I share it with from wanting to read more about what I was up to. Clearly there was no plan as to what I was going to do with all of these writings but I didn’t care about that. I just freely sat in my room and wrote about what I was going through, how I was feeling, and how everything going on in my life was affecting me. These diaries have been a great gift to myself as I jog my memory of past events in my life to continue my story but most of all they are a reminder to not worry so much about what comes out and to just write.

Making the decision to finally move to the big apple the winter after I turned 27 was a goal of mine that was not only going to bring me career success, love and happiness but I believed the move would help me get further along in my writing. If I were to come back around and currently “update” where I am now it would be that I have come a long way and have a lot of inspiration to write about.

When I first started NYC I could not touch my toes, I was in a lot of financial debt, I was heartbroken, and I was scared shitless. Although, I moved to Manhattan with a job, I did not move to the Big Apple with a big savings account or a clear financial plan. I kid you not: The 12-foot box truck that drove all my furniture and belongings from South Florida to Manhattan, the gas for my car to follow, the renter fees, apartment fees, lease-breaking fees, food and any miscellaneous moving supplies were all paid out of a $1,500 budget I had at my disposal. I’d be lying if I said my Nan didn’t stick a few bills in my pocket, and that my wonderful friends and family did not help me over this hump. I was showered with gifts, gift cards, and so many blessings and words of encouragement, but it still remains one of the top most anxious, and scariest times in my life. I questioned myself daily on my decision to move when I was experiencing such financial burden and so many weeks I had to stretch thirty dollars to feed me and transport me through one of the most expensive cities in the world. I truly believe it was only possible for me to do because of the experience and learning’s of my meager youth. Tuna fish, carrots, tomatoes, bananas, and mac & cheese, were my go-to budget food items, and with any leftover money I would buy myself a bottle of wine to keep me company as I wrote in my journal thoughts and goals to get out of this mess.

My first apartment at the Ritz was located in midtown and was SO BEAUTIFUL! I was lucky enough to get this “hook up” from one of my college best friends who previously lived in this apartment and was smart enough to hold onto it (and its rate) by sublet like myself. From my bedroom you could walk out onto a balcony twenty-nine floors high that overlooked Times Square to the left and Hell’s Kitchen to the right. The one side of my room was pure window, and I had beautiful wood floors where I propped my Gaiam yoga mat in the corner next to a standing mirror. This yoga mat placement, although I was still not a yoga practitioner, was placed with intent for the sanctuary I was trying to create in this stressful, fearful time. I will never, EVER forget the beauty of the city lights from my room and how I could sit out on the balcony and, if only for a second, remember to be proud of myself. I started to have visions of doing yoga gracefully on my Gaiam mat outside my large glass windows, and these visions started to become reality when I took out my mat one afternoon and turned on my yoga DVD. What was different this time around is that, after the first week, I didn’t stop. In my free time, I started Googling and searching YouTube for different yoga tutorials that I hoped to practice on my own.

After the first three months, I started to get a little more financial security as well as more knowledge of ways to spread my money more evenly and even save money. The first thing I did when I had a couple extra dollars a month was research and purchase a gym membership that fit my budget. With all of my fitness classes, I always wanted parts to be like ballet or hip-hop, and then I started to mix in yoga classes. No matter how hard it was to convince myself to go to class and be the “beginner” that I was embarrassed to be, I cannot recall one time that I did not feel an amazing sense of anxiety relief. I am always very thankful that I made it to my classes, and I always remind myself how thankful I am each and every time I practice because it has NOT been easy to get to this point of my yoga career. The goal I set in August 2013 was to at least make it to one yoga class each week, and that goal has evolved into a habit of searching for a yoga class to attend almost every single day. Spring of 2014 I was feeling pretty darn good, but not exactly where I wanted to be and the universe must of known that. In a blink of an eye the universe switched the ocean tide and forced me to seek a new way out when I was fired from my fancy high paying Manhattan job. Worried about my rent, scared this meant I would have to stay in the relationship I wasn’t happy in to survive, and that I had failed were more reasons I needed more yoga. With the extra time on my hands I have given myself my first and well-deserved yoga challenge and incorporated daily practices with my freed up time.

Two weeks before turning thirty, I can touch my toes, I have finally achieved control of my finances, and writing is apart of my weekly routine. I have signed up for my yoga certification, and my yoga practice affects my everyday thoughts. It is how I am choosing to live my life. It is a way a perfect stranger can relate to me, and unlike when I was younger, I am fully aware that it is the best way for me to deal with any inner bullshit that is begging to come out. Every day in class, I learn something new about my body and about the different ways I can get myself into different positions. It frees my mind in such healthy ways, and keeps me from more of the drugs or booze I might have looked at to ease my mind in the past. It releases the hurt, the uncertainties, and gives me so much hope like nothing else in my life has been able to. Anytime anyone is going through anything difficult in life, I often think to myself, “they need yoga”. Inhale good shit, exhale bad shit. Yoga has helped my decisions in my career, my writing, my relationships, and most importantly my health and self-esteem.

Just get on your mat- Namaste!

Chapter 2

My Way Out

“She was fierce, she was strong, and she wasn’t simple. She was crazy and sometimes she barely slept. She always had something to say. She had flaws and that was ok. And when she was down, she got right back up. She was a beast in her own way, but one idea described her best, she was unstoppable and she took anything she wanted with a smile.” R.M. Drake

I have always struggled with being comfortable in my own skin, which has kept me from letting other’s into my world completely. It has been a struggle for me to be truthful about what is truly going on in my life and how that something is tearing me apart inside. I met yoga for fitness by DVD form one Christmas break where I was stuck in a college ghost town as all of my peers ran home to their family safety nets. I was looking for a little relief from feeling down about staying in town to work all three of my jobs. I marched myself to the store bout my first Giam brand yoga mat and was certain I would find some peace. When I think about hard times in my past and relate my younger self to who I am now I have pinpointed that my way of internal healing has always been the yogi way. On my own, I picked up habits that to this day have saved me from teetering down the wrong path, or perhaps spending millions of dollars visiting a shrink. Feeling lost, seeking more love, and crying for hours alone were obstacles I over came from practicing my inner yoga. To date habits such as: reading and writing, running, and meditation have been the most consistent and healing hobbies in my life. I loved getting lost into different stories about different people, and creating new endings as I wrote, “to be continued” short stories to my classmates about my family pets. It helped fuel my imagination and create dreams I wanted to accomplish so that I could live adventures like the one I created and read about. Consecutive first place medals in the girls mile run as well as being one of the quickest on both the track and cross country teams was the outcome to many afternoons I spent running as far away from home as I could get. When the yelling and the screaming became too overwhelming in a household full of conflict I would sit Indian style in the back of my closet and mediate my way out into my very own, much happier place.

I’ve always wanted to be a writer; I just haven’t always been writing. I made a goal to myself a couple years ago to have my first book published by age 30 but in a couple weeks I am going to be thirty and I am not ready to publish my book yet. What I did well as a young writer was freely write exactly and whatever was in my thoughts or top of my mind. I did not worry about what others might think if they picked it up and read it and everything I wrote down was raw, unedited, and straight from my heart. My elementary diary entries give me a variety of different emotions that I truly hope I can accomplish in my current early thirties writings. Some pages are full of stories and statements that make me laugh out loud, and other pages and entries quickly bring me to tears.

There were sections of story telling were I told my readers about the 4th grade dance and what boy I was crushing on that moment, there was a goals section where not only did I write out my “request” but I came back around and logged my results. One of my personal favorites was my “update section” which was ultimately my very own gossip column where I updated the relationships in my life as well as other relationships that were going on with my classmates. There was a prayer section, (which is often the section that can make me cry) where I would ask God to listen and grant my prayers. I asked to please make Granny well when she was sick, I asked God why Granny did not like me anymore, and I asked him what would happen to me when Granny died.

The flow was not exactly right when connecting one thought, or story to the next but it doesn’t seem to stop anyone I share it with from wanting to read more about what I was up to. Clearly there was no plan as to what I was going to do with all of these writings but I didn’t care about that. I just freely sat in my room and wrote about what I was going through, how I was feeling, and how everything going on in my life was affecting me. These diaries have been a great gift to myself as I jog my memory of past events in my life to continue my story but most of all they are a reminder to not worry so much about what comes out and to just write.

Making the decision to finally move to the big apple the winter after I turned 27 was a goal of mine that was not only going to bring me career success, love and happiness but I believed the move would help me get further along in my writing. If I were to come back around and currently “update” where I am now it would be that I have come a long way and have a lot of inspiration to write about.

When I first started NYC I could not touch my toes, I was in a lot of financial debt, I was heartbroken, and I was scared shitless. Although, I moved to Manhattan with a job, I did not move to the Big Apple with a big savings account or a clear financial plan. I kid you not: The 12-foot box truck that drove all my furniture and belongings from South Florida to Manhattan, the gas for my car to follow, the renter fees, apartment fees, lease-breaking fees, food and any miscellaneous moving supplies were all paid out of a $1,500 budget I had at my disposal. I’d be lying if I said my Nan didn’t stick a few bills in my pocket, and that my wonderful friends and family did not help me over this hump. I was showered with gifts, gift cards, and so many blessings and words of encouragement, but it still remains one of the top most anxious, and scariest times in my life. I questioned myself daily on my decision to move when I was experiencing such financial burden and so many weeks I had to stretch thirty dollars to feed me and transport me through one of the most expensive cities in the world. I truly believe it was only possible for me to do because of the experience and learning’s of my meager youth. Tuna fish, carrots, tomatoes, bananas, and mac & cheese, were my go-to budget food items, and with any leftover money I would buy myself a bottle of wine to keep me company as I wrote in my journal thoughts and goals to get out of this mess.

My first apartment at the Ritz was located in midtown and was SO BEAUTIFUL! I was lucky enough to get this “hook up” from one of my college best friends who previously lived in this apartment and was smart enough to hold onto it (and its rate) by sublets like myself. From my bedroom you could walk out onto a balcony twenty-nine floors high that overlooked Times Square to the left and Hell’s Kitchen to the right. The one side of my room was pure window, and I had beautiful wood floors where I propped my Gaiam yoga mat in the corner next to a standing mirror. This yoga mat placement, although I was still not a yoga practitioner, was placed with intent for the sanctuary I was trying to create in this stressful, fearful time. I will never, EVER forget the beauty of the city lights from my room and how I could sit out on the balcony and, if only for a second, remember to be proud of myself. I started to have visions of doing yoga gracefully on my Gaiam mat outside my large glass windows, and these visions started to become reality when I took out my mat one afternoon and turned on my yoga DVD. What was different this time around is that, after the first week, I didn’t stop. In my free time, I started Googling and searching YouTube for different yoga tutorials that I hoped to practice on my own.

After the first three months, I started to get a little more financial security as well as more knowledge of ways to spread my money more evenly and even save money. The first thing I did when I had a couple extra dollars a month was research and purchase a gym membership that fit my budget. With all of my fitness classes, I always wanted parts to be like ballet or hip-hop, and then I started to mix in yoga classes. No matter how hard it was to convince myself to go to class and be the “beginner” that I was embarrassed to be, I cannot recall one time that I did not feel an amazing sense of anxiety relief. I am always very thankful that I made it to my classes, and I always remind myself how thankful I am each and every time I practice because it has NOT been easy to get to this point of my yoga career. The goal I set in August 2013 was to at least make it to one yoga class each week, and that goal has evolved into a habit of searching for a yoga class to attend almost every single day. Spring of 2014 I was feeling pretty darn good, but not exactly where I wanted to be and the universe must of known that. In a blink of an eye the universe switched the ocean tide and forced me to seek a new way out when I was fired from my fancy high paying Manhattan job. Worried about my rent, scared this meant I would have to stay in the relationship I wasn’t happy in to survive, and that I had failed were more reasons I needed more yoga. With the extra time on my hands I have given myself my first and well-deserved yoga challenge and incorporated daily practices with my freed up time.

Two weeks before turning thirty, I can touch my toes, I have finally achieved control of my finances, and writing is apart of my weekly routine. I have signed up for my yoga certification, and my yoga practice affects my everyday thoughts. It is how I am choosing to live my life. It is a way a perfect stranger can relate to me, and unlike when I was younger, I am fully aware that it is the best way for me to deal with any inner bullshit that is begging to come out. Every day in class, I learn something new about my body and about the different ways I can get myself into different positions. It frees my mind in such healthy ways, and keeps me from more of the drugs or booze I might have looked at to ease my mind in the past. It releases the hurt, the uncertainties, and gives me so much hope like nothing else in my life has been able to. Anytime anyone is going through anything difficult in life, I often think to myself, “they need yoga”. Inhale good shit, exhale bad shit. It has helped my decisions in my career, my writing, my relationships, and most importantly my health and self-esteem.

The Failure is Real

Failure

“Winning is great, sure, but if you are really going to do something in life, the secret is learning how to lose. Nobody goes undefeated all the time. If you can pick up after a crushing defeat, and go on to win again, you are going to be a champion someday.”
Wilma Rudolph

Failure is that thing that no one likes but something that everyone needs in order to be his or her best self. Writing to others about what I didn’t accomplish is going to be just as important to me as telling them about what I did accomplish. To motivate you, to inspire you, and to get you to trust me I will be breaking down my walls and being as real with you about every one of my defeats. For me, evaluating what I did wrong, as well as analyzing the not-so-positive things that I might be going through has become just as important to me as celebrating my successes. I have become obsessed with really understanding and learning from the failures I have overcome so that the go-getter in me can rejuvenate and quickly bounce back from any UNcontrollable threat or human error.

January was a difficult month for me when it came to accomplishing my work and fitness goals. With Mercury in the retrograde (http://darkstarastrology.com/mercury-retrograde/) you can imagine how difficult it was to manage clients, employees and myself while also trying to end my company’s fiscal year positively. I signed onto a fitness challenge that wasn’t completed due to different obstacles that got in my way. Flu B made me the bed lady for four days, and being sidetracked as I traveled to see my new lover boy in Florida kept my head out of the game. When you are a leader, you have to continue to be the example and lead by example as you continue to be their rock and inspiration. That little voice that always gives motivation while also re-directing with feedback and goals is extremely important to keeping your team on track. As I was crumbling inside with feelings of doubt and fighting back negativity, my team was unintentionally following my lead.

Making super-stretch sales goals along with a “25 Yoga Class Challenge in 31 days” had me crunching numbers and frantically signing up for yoga classes in my already jam-packed schedule. I was so worried about what other people would think about me and about my team if we missed our goal that it was actually demotivating me.I was obsessing over how I would explain myself if we did not make our year and both challenges became surrounded by negativity and doubt. When it came to the challenge, the check-ins on social media to the yoga gym, or the simple question “how many classes do you have left?” from the other yogi’s on the challenge weighed heavy on my mind. I would compare the amount of time they had to complete their challenge to my time and also give excuses as to why I was pressing the snooze button instead of getting into the 6AM hot flow.

The failure was real and missing our fiscal year by a day of business and my challenge by a couple of classes hurt my ego for sure but it also fired me back up. The exciting part about failing on my goals in January is that it opened my eyes to the way I was acting and re-focused my attention on the possibilities of the future. “Fail fast”, someone told me once…and ensure that what you learn from it makes you a better person. Heading into February, I made goals to keep my composure for my team and to continue to be the example in all situations regardless of how I might be feeling. To continue to stay positive (retrograde ended on the 11th of this month) even when downing Dayquil for breakfast, and to only compare my success to a better me.

Happy Valentines Day and Happy February everyone!

#FebruarySquatChallenge

2015 Ass Kicking

2015

Write. No seriously, stop fucking around Kadie.
Yoga! ? Hello.
Bake, and cook for your friends, you got the know.
Travel more! And stop canceling it for more money to not travel.
Be a better friend. Do things for them that show them how you feel.
Stay present in good company. Snap chat later
Grow others, inspire and motivate good things from people
Be a rock for the family. Someone they can count on.
Give lots of love.
Stay true to yourself.

#MomChrongetshitched

Speech

Here is a little flashback to the toast I gave at my mother’s farm wedding last weekend in Brighton, Michigan. While surrounded by many friends and family from all over the country, I experienced one of the most beautiful and emotional weddings EVER. I miss this weekend already mostly due to all the wonderful moments that I was able to share with so many wonderful friends and family members. I want my mom to be able to look back at videos, pictures, and even my blog-posts to forever be connected with her special day. So if you missed the speech..here it is!

#momchrongothitched,

Kadie

When I was a little girl I used to have a reoccurring dream about the day my Mom got married. In my mind, I had missed something I knew I should have be a part of. I imagined it happening in a big back yard because that is where Julie and I practiced the “big day” many summer afternoons in Granny’s yard. But the truth is, most kids don’t get the opportunity to be a part of their Mother’s big day and as you all know, it is a true blessing because Melissa would not have it any other way. Thirteen years ago, the new girl in town had her life changed by so many of you sitting in this room and by year four she was finally ready to love herself again which opened her heart for her Prince Charming. Matt, the kindest man many of us have ever met, and Melissa, the owner of the biggest heart in the world were married today. So here I am, living my “baby dream” front and center, (I’M ON A FARM!) on my Mommy’s wedding day. So favorite friends, & best family ever, please raise your glass for a big cheers to my Mother, Melissa Chronister, and my new Dad, Matthew McDaniel.

*In the pic I be sporting a vintage crochet dress from Loose Threads Boutique, and a necklace from Nastygal.com

A Letter to my Chief Editor-Happy Birthday Julie

Seems like yesterday when we were hanging off of our beds that faced each other in our small room, giggling at the sight of our hair looking like our beloved troll dolls. What a brat I was to you, and what a fabulous job at being the baby I mastered by manipulating — at your expense– this power: punching you and then telling Granny the opposite of what really happened, winning afternoons out of time out by polishing the halo over my head. However, you made it clear you were the big sister by stepping up in some of the worst situations I hope you ever have to go through and taking the heat so your little sister did not have to. The respect I have for you is not due to the time you set me straight by peeing on “my side of the room” but because you always made it easy for me to trust you and count on you. It wasn’t easy for us, was it? But I am happy for that because look at what we have become and look at who we are. I could not have gotten through life’s dysfunctions without you, and our relationship will forever be a reminder of God’s many blessings to us and to our sisterly relationship. Hiding in the closet together, “running away” together, and creating a better life together is our sister story. I am your forever fan, the little sister who punched a boy on the bus for calling you a dork, and the sister who silenced the crowd at every football game to clap proudly at my “bonehead sister”. I am so proud of you for always working hard and finding your happiness through your beliefs and through the relationships you created in your life. You are such an amazing role model to many, but most importantly, you have always been a very important role model to me, your baby sis. I am so happy to see you as an amazing wife, a new loving mother, and now as an old lady!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SISSY!!!!

*I found this diary entry of mine from a diary I kept in elementary school. Please note that I hash tagged at the top words I found important to what I wrote. Does this give me any type of props for tagging before others??

Sisters