I miss falling in love with an artist. Consumed with their music videos, finding joy in every new song, every new video, every new performance. Spotify gives me access to every single song. EVERY SONG. So why is it so hard for me to find something to listen to?
Product design. We are missing the mark. We may be designing for the wrong measure of success.
Design is dedicated to solving challenging user problems, but we have to measure if the solution is working. To see if what we’ve created is successful.
In this measuring, we may side step the user in order to deliver on things that are measurable. Measurable. What is measurable? …
I found an old journal yesterday from when I was 16. In it, I wrote to my future self advice on what to do when I became a mom.
I remember the passion and desire I had behind wanting these things to be true, because if it was true for me from my mom, it would have changed my childhood, my sisters childhoods, to be more joyful, and have a closer relationship with our mother.
I remember looking ahead to my future self, and saying to her:
“Dear future Olivia, please don’t forget these things. They are so important to me. I know you will be different when you have your kids, older, and you think, wiser. And, you may forget what it was like to be a kid. So I write to you, in hopes you will remember, that what I need as a child is just a few things.” …
Thinking of just one golden ticket seems so hard! But I loved this activity. My first thought was love. Then time. And then 50 million dollars! Hehe 😁
In my thoughts about time and love I uncovered something else to use my ticket on.
I want time to see more smiles from my kids, really see them. Time to enjoy moments, really enjoy them, without being rushed. Time to experience without thinking about anything else. Time to be totally present.
Meditation helps me get there, but I know I have more growth until I’m completely there. And then there’s the growth to become comfortable becoming the person I want to be. The mom I want to be. The wife I want to be. The sister I want to be. The financial freedom I want to have. The body I want to have. The experiences I want my kids to have. …
Dear social media,
There are so many times that I can’t stand you anymore. It’s a sour relationship we’ve built. And I don’t want it to be that way. I’ve had so many great moments with you. Of discovery, of play, of fascination, of connection with friends and family. I miss those moments of meaning and intent.
But, you’ve gotten out of hand. You’ve taken me to a level of distraction that I just can’t take anymore.
You say to me, every single time I land on your site or your app:
“Consume. More. More. More.”
“Keep going, keep diving, keep scrolling, keep…
Acceptance begins with being familiar with. It begins with being in contact with. You accept what is around you because it is there, and you adapt to it, you may or may not know all the things you accept vs the things you don’t.
And such, if you’re not familiar with a concept, or familiar with a type of person, you may not accept it, as you may not understand it or, you may have beliefs you hold that drive your expectations of them.
But what if we removed that last part? The things that drive our expectations of xyz? We expect that black is bad, that white is good. …
Today I was exhausted. Exhausted from worries about family, about keeping them protected. Keeping them safe.
Keeping them safe during a time that feels like I have less and less control over the circumstances that are impeding on our lives. And sadness. Sadness of the lack of being able to even see my Dad and my family far away.
I told myself, just stop. Just stop worrying. How much can one person worry? But saying that only increased the momentum of the storm.
I tried all my normal ways to calm my mind. Journaling. Meditation. Listening to music. Reading a book. Thinking about something else. …
For the first time in about 45 days, I told myself I was going to get “ready”. As a woman, I’ve been taught to believe that being ready means your hair is elegantly done, your makeup is on, your jewelry is on, and your clothes are the cherry on top to support the entire “ready” facade.
Normally I go through this process and I just do it, no thinking about why. But today, this thought started pouring in…
How much of “ready” do I want to be? So, I started with a shower, washed my face, brushed my teeth. The basics. Then I put on a top that would only be worn to work normally, and I considered a bra, but really? Who invented those?! News flash to those who haven’t put on one, they are NOT, I repeat, not comfortable! I don’t care what type of bra you have. NOT COMFORTABLE. …
My inner parent-critic or “critical objective parental voice” is a concept I use to refer to my inner parenting personality that judges and demands that I be a perfect mother, have the perfect child. The inner voice that says, breast is best, cook healthy meals, don’t let them eat this, only organic, don’t microwave that! Blah, blah, blah. I’ve actually named this personality to shorten it, “Sue”. When Sue comes, she makes me feel like I’m a terrible mother.
Sue imposes on me perfection. And it’s a realistic thing to ask right? With a 3 year old and a 1 year old. No, you say? But why not? …
When I had my son, I remember obsessing about what stroller to get, how to decorate his nursery, and the best toys to buy. I’ve always been obsessed with exploring what’s best. I’m a maximizer. I researched strollers until I was blue in the face, and my husband was purple!
I was the mom with 10 strollers, 5 car seats, 245 toys, and still looking to scour the internet and store for every type of item until I came across the very best for my son.
Only the best fabrics would touch my sons bottom, only the safest crib would hold him, only the best non-gassy bottle would do, only the best developmental toys would be available to him. …