Dress For Your Day

I will never forget the text message . . .

“I just went to the kitchen. There is a girl wearing leggings as pants with cat heads on her knees. Literally cat heads on her knees!!!”

Ruh-roh. Whaaaaaaaaaa???

Soon after I left corporate world they dropped the dress code in favor of something called “Dress for Your Day.” AKA – cat leggings are now pants. *facepalm to the side eyes power*

Don’t misunderstand – I believe in business evolution and the changing tides of fashion. But, when your kitty wears camel toe at corporate, it’s bound to cause a bit of a commotion in the cathouse . . . which means work isn’t being done. And that causes me to ask – what’s the motivation for changing dress codes and how does that impact your performance?

Certainly, as a freelance writer, I fully appreciate the comfort of working in yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt . . . within the confines of my own home. You can be sure, though, that if I left the house to meet with a client, I would look nothing like I do now. However, I do believe that when I look better, I feel better – which means I work better. That’s why you’ll find me with a bit of tinted moisturizer and a fashioned pony – not just a greasy heap of hair.

I suppose I grew up at the tail-end of a time when people still celebrated dressing up. In fact, I remember not being allowed to wear jeans on an airplane! We dressed up to go to church, weddings, funerals and holiday dinners. And to go to work? Dress up – even when the attire is “casual.”

Casual doesn’t have to be ratty sneakers and an old concert tee. It can be jeans and a nice shirt with a cool jacket.

When did casual become synonymous with sloppy???

Should this be called “UN-dress For Your Day”???

I’m truly curious to know about your experience with “casual” attire in the workplace. Mostly because I know this is a topic people react strongly to.

Do you find that you more or less productive in different forms of dress? Do you find that it’s more distracting than motivating? How do you dress when you perform YOUR best? Leave a comment and let me know.

 

 

 

 

Brandy Hammond1 Comment

5 “Things” About Going Back to the Gym

Three weeks ago, I decided to start using the gym I’ve made monthly donations to for the last year.

Yes, monthly donations. I figured that my charitable contribution might as well help others support their health and fitness goals. Except that my accountant didn’t see it that way at tax time. Whoopsie! Time to get off dead center and use what I’ve been paying for.

I’ll admit – it wasn’t an easy. I’ve worked out in different gyms on and (mostly) off since my 20’s, but the first trip in ALWAYS intimidates me. BUT, once I get inside and begin cardio, I simmer down.  Mostly because I look around and realize that it’s just a bunch of people of varying shapes and sizes sweating their way to some version of improved health. That’s not so scary, is it?

Here’s what’s happened so far:

  1. I feel proud! When I walk in, scan my card and actually complete a workout, I leave with a sense of accomplishment and give myself an inner high five – woooooo wheeeeeee – I did it. Yay, me! I do not, however, get a “yay” if I walk in, scan my card and walk back out. This day hasn’t happened yet, but I can see it . . . especially on days when I’m all full up on “Oh, hell naw.”
  2. I wake up earlier without an alarm and feel more alert. I’m not sure what this is about and it’s certainly not what I expected when I started “using what I pay for.” But, I’ll take it.
  3. I actually like moving my body! I don’t dread going to the gym – mostly b/c I’m not obsessing and acting like a crazy person. I’ve been that chick in the past and LCE this time around. As I get older, I appreciate the hell out of moderation.
  4. I’m getting stronger. Each time I go, I can do a little more. Am I the fittest chick in the gym? No. Am I on my way? Also, no. But I’m on my way to being a better me and THAT is what counts.
  5. I continue to make deplorable choices about what I eat and drink. Look, going back to the gym is a big enough step for me right now. And, as a result, I’m drinking more water. That’s enough healthy box checking for this day. Maybe I’ll tackle “better choices” in the weeks to come. For now, I’m just happy to be eating cheese in stretch pants covered in sweat.

What about you? What healthy things are you trying? Are you reviving some healthy habits you let go of? Have you decided to shake up your routine and received positive results? Share your good news in the comments section below.

Brandy Hammond6 Comments

Jesus Take the Wheel

My brain misfires sometimes . . . often, in the form of old song lyrics, loud and off-key, while performing mundane tasks. Read: cleaning, taxes, trips to the grocery store. (Much to the chagrin of other shoppers.) During my latest outburst, I channeled some good ol’ Carrie Underwood, “Jesus take the wheeeeeeeel, take it from my hands, I can’t do this on my own.”

And it hit me – it doesn’t matter if Jesus takes the wheel if I don’t get my foot off the brake.

Sit with that for a minute, because I’ve been sitting with it for a couple of weeks now.

Now, I know that my friends don’t procrastinate. I mean, my friends are ON IT. But, me? Well, I’m a bit of a dawdler. Especially when it comes to my “real” work. (Which, I’ll admit, I’ve yet to absolutely define, but know it has nothing to do with a 9 to 5. That’s why I’m asking for guidance from above.)

I believe we all have the capacity to hear what the Bible calls the small, still voice. In I Kings, it says God isn’t in the fire or the earthquake, but in a gentle whisper. But, in my life, sometimes it’s a hurricane of whispers. Mostly because I have trouble listening the first time. (What child actually listens the first time?!?!? “If I have to tell you one more time, I’mma come over there and . . . )

So, what’s a girl to do when the whisper is with me?

Yogi Bhajan’s second Sutra for the Aquarian Age says, “When the time is on you, start, and the pressure will be off.

So, I start. I lace up my sneakers, I sit down at the keyboard, I go to the grocery store to buy veggies. I start. And, I start. And, I start again . . . because, I stop.

That’s why the hurricane of whispers and inklings and desires – because they’re all pushing me in the right direction. They’re all serving to steer me to the right path if I’ll stop, process and act on the divine guidance I receive.

You see, Jesus always HAD the wheel. He always steered me towards the right people, the right places and the right circumstances to get me where I need to go.

The trouble is that in the times I made the least progress, I’ve had my foot on the brake!!!

Today, I’m beginning again, and again, and again. I listen for the small, still voice and inch forward with tiny acts because I believe there are far better things before me than behind me.

If you want to go on this journey, hop in. Jesus has the wheel . . . and I promise I’ll try not to clothesline you with my arm if (when) I slam on the brakes again!

 

Brandy Hammond1 Comment

BOOBIES . . . and other bits

“An iced venti bold with room, please.”

I took my place in the pickup line behind four twitching, scratching souls longing for their afternoon fix. It’s hot in Florida . . . and heat makes people do crazy things. As does caffeine withdrawal. Silent prayer – please, Lord, let us hold it together a moment longer.

“Brandy,” YES!!! I enjoyed a silent celebration (and inner victory dance) as I grooved past the 6-pump, double-shot, extra hot, half-whip folks. Their eyes sliced me from the side.

I grabbed a napkin (or five, because I’m a little clumsy) and stirred in my half-and-half (don’t judge, almond milk isn’t friendly in coffee!) and THAT’S when I saw her. The girl to my right – coffee half-lifted, stir stick dangling over the trash between fixed fingers – head tilted, mouth open, eyes horrified, brow confused.

OHHHHHHHH DELIGHT!!! What horrors hide over my left shoulder?!?!?

I put the lid on my coffee and took a sip as I turned. Then, I promptly doubled over and shot coffee out of my nose. The man sitting behind me was slowly – and quite happily – scrolling through an email of various, errrrrrr, ladies . . . and their bits. Midday. In Starbucks. On free wifi.

I still roar with laughter thinking about the absurdity. I feel horribly for the families who stopped for a summer respite . . . only to end up in an unfortunate conversation with their children. And what about the ladies, themselves? Do they know about their debut? Do they care?

Walking down the sidewalk I considered, is it be better to be physically naked or emotionally exposed?

A few years ago, I took surfing lessons with some of my best girlfriends. The first couple of rides were surprisingly successful. Then, I bit it . . . in a GLORIOUS way.

Tumbled under surf, scraped by sand, wrapped in seaweed, pummeled by shells . . . tethered to a board by the ankle. (Why did this sound fun?) I slammed into the shallows happy to be alive. Nauseous and confused, I jumped up from the water with arms overhead to see the worried face of my friend Lara.

She yelled to me, but I couldn’t hear or process the words. She swam closer.

“BOOBIES!!!”

“WHAT???”

“BOOBIES!!!”

I looked behind me, completely confused, “WHAT??? WHERE?!?!?”

“YOURS!!!”

In that moment, feeling rushed back into my body. Under the churn, my rash guard and bathing suit fixed themselves around my neck. And, when I popped up . . . I stood naked in the water.

Dip. Dress.

Our stomachs ached from laughter. Tears streamed down our already salty faces. And, here’s what I can tell you – it was far easier for me to be exposed physically.

I think that’s why I put off writing for so long. To hit Publish is to disrobe my soul.

Then, I must ask, beyond writing, am I able to be emotionally exposed? You know, as I ‘do life’ with people.

Am I willing to be vulnerable and open in the relationships that matter?

Am I able to stand “naked” in front of someone and say, “These are my beautiful scars and, in them, I carry the stories of my hurt, my healing and my strengths?”

I have to admit that this is unbelievably hard for me. I don’t like to show my struggle. I want everything to appear perfectly packaged. I don’t want to show that I’m paddling furiously beneath the water’s surface to stay afloat.

I don’t want to. But, somehow, I can’t not.

I feel an incredible call to be real and perfectly imperfect. For me, to be real means to show up – with my scars and scabs – asking to be loved and accepted anyway. Because, who among us has a perfect life? Who hasn’t had bumps and bruises? Who isn’t enjoying the continuous beat of an intricately scarred heart?

So, as you go through your day, look around. Really notice the family, the friends and the strangers in your life.

Who is saying, “Here I am . . . all boogers and bruises . . . won’t you please like me anyway?”

Who stands bravely naked?

Who allows their truest selves to be seen?

Are you one of them?

(To the teacher who had to see my surfing lesson in someone’s “My Summer Vacation” report, I sincerely apologize. *facepalm*)

Brandy Hammond12 Comments

EgoTripping

As I celebrated the beginning of my 4th decade I found myself in a most unimaginable situation. Single, jobless, alone and adrift. I felt like the universe wrapped a midlife crisis up with a giant bow for my milestone birthday.

Sitting with my ‘gift’ as the day came to an end, I thought back to the beginning of my adventure. I started this journey with certainty, passion and a heightened sense of direction and purpose. Things weren’t firing for me in Charlotte and I “just knew” this opportunity would be just the kick start I needed.

Turns out, it was a kick in the teeth.

As my world unraveled – a sick aunt engaged in her last battle, energetic turmoil at work, and an unsettled environment – my friend and soul sister called to check in. She could “feel” how frazzled I had become. “How did you know?” I asked.  “You are a vortex,” she said.

Unfortunately, at the time, I didn’t realize my vortex was pulling negativity in on me with the energy I expelled.

It was only after the ball of yarn completely unraveled and lay in a gnarled and knotted heap did I take a long, hard, painfully honest look at my situation: no man, no job, no home that I wanted to go home to.

I checked my pride, broke lease and embarked on the life of a wanderer.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” became my theme song – with a refrain that sang, “This isn’t how my life is supposed to be!!!”

And that’s when the larger Voice I call God said, “But this is the way it is.”

This is the way it is.

Sitting on a dock, beer in hand, my utter exhaustion gave way to absolute acceptance.

This. Is. The. Way. It. Is.

Let me not lie, it took two weeks of wandering before my brain started to work again. My first day as a gypsy, I literally sat at a red light and had the conversation with myself as it changed, “Green means go, right? Yes, green. Go.” (BLESS!)

One of the most interesting things happening as I explore rock bottom is a reinterpretation of self. A revised definition of who I am. Because, how easy is it to say, “I’m Brandy, XYZ with ABC company.” How often have I relied on my career, wins and successes to create my identity? How long have I hid behind my job rather than relying on my most authentic self?

So the question became, “Without a label, without a job title, who am I? What do I do? What are my goals? Where am I going?”

When my brain started to function again, ideas came flooding through. I started having lovely conversations about great opportunities. My energy level keyed up and I went on a great walk where I was having the internal dialogue with myself, “Omigosh . . . I could do this and this and this and I talked to so and so and so . . . and just WAIT until I tell LMNOP that DEF wants to work with me . . . he’s going to be so proud and . . . “ [screeeeeech] HOLD THE FUCK UP.

I stopped mid-stride. This is the ego I read about.

Yes, it’s great to have amazing partnerships and projects on the horizon, but these things do not define who I am.

And I damn sure shouldn’t be using them as a worth-bait for catching the interest, respect and admiration of other people. Let that sink in . . . worth-bait.

Stop.

Breathe.

Disengage the ego.

Ask, “Who am I without the labels?”

While I would love to wrap this story up with the tidy ending of a hallelujah choir, I can’t do that. The only answer I have is, quite simply, “I don’t know.”

I don’t know who I am, where I’m going or when. But, I’m learning. I’m observing. I’m growing through confronting the stories I’ve told myself for so long that they’ve become my truth.

I’m reconsidering. I’m re-imagining the story of me . . . and the rewrites are in pencil.

It’s scary as hell.

In religion, there is a period of darkness that precedes an awakening or rebirth . . . a dark night of the soul. So, is this my path to enlightenment? Perhaps.

Is rock bottom a kickass place to rebuild a strong, redefined foundation for a brand new life? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Now, it’s time to get on with it.

Has anyone seen the map for navigating around this ego trip?!?!?

 

 

 

 

Brandy Hammond2 Comments

What Will You Do?

One day, you’re going to stand at a crossroad. To the left, the life you know: the safe, the comfortable, the familiar. To the right, the life you might live: adventure, possibility, unknown.

Maybe you’re standing there now. Maybe you’ve stood here before and made the choice that ultimately brought you back around to the same crossroad. Nevertheless, here you are.

And it doesn’t matter if you’re a stay-at-home mom thinking about going back to work and presenting a new model of motherhood to your children or if you’re a business person trying to decide if you want to leave the safety of corporate to build a business on your own. The choice is really: Will I choose to continue on with good? Or will I roll the dice and gamble for great?

The problem with this choice is that great isn’t guaranteed . . . or is it?

Yes, you could lose your life savings. But, are you saving for fun or familiar?

Yes, that new relationship could leave you heartbroken.  But, is being single truly satisfying?

Yes, that trip abroad might not be as fun as you imagined it would be. But, wouldn’t you rather be enriched and enlightened than stay home and be bored?

What does that mean for your decision?

Does it mean that it’s better to wrap yourself in the comfortable conformity of life? I think it’s worth considering whether or not your life is really yours . . . one of your own choosing.

Your routine, your day in and day out, the spouse, the house, the job . . . are they all things that you actually want for yourself? Or are these the things that other people told you you should want? Did you buy into their dream or are you living your very own?

If you’re not really living the life that you want and you’re just going through the motions, how great would the loss really be if you rolled the dice and sought a life to love?

Let’s say you take the gamble and fail . . . exquisitely fail. It really wouldn’t be that hard to recreate mediocrity. I mean, look around you and take note of all the people excelling at ho-hum. It seems like you could rebuild a vanilla existence in about 15 minutes, 30 if you’re deliberately minding the details.

Now, all of this isn’t to say that your life is a waste if you’re not living in a mansion along the California coast. Your dream is distinct to you and different from everyone else’s. What it is to say is, “Are you awake in your living or are you sleepwalking through someone else’s dream?”

I ask this of you, because these are the questions I am asking of myself.

You see, I am once again at the crossroads.

Brene Brown writes about Theodore Roosevelt’s “daring greatly” quote and I know one thing for sure . . .  I want to be IN the arena, “face marred with sweat and blood.”

I want to wake up every morning and chase a dream with eyes wide open and heart beating hard. I want to breathe adventure deep into my lungs and run full speed into the unknown.

What I do NOT want is to die knowing that I rode shotgun in my own life, “knowing neither victory nor defeat,” because someone else was driving my car.

And, perhaps, this is how great IS guaranteed.

Yes, I have cried 1,000 tears, been beaten, bruised and pushed around by life. But I have also been fully supported, lifted up and encouraged. I have laughed from deep within my soul and let my light shine on friends and strangers. And, even when it felt bad, it felt good . . . because I’m living out loud and not just going through the motions, keeping a safe and friendly distance.

This is why I dare to stand at my crossroads today and say, “I’m hanging a right.”

It’s frightening to set out on an adventure without a map. To journey towards an idea that’s on the horizon without knowledge of the terrain that stands between. And, while I am certain that I will roll my ankle and meet with snakes . . . I am equally certain that I will keep the company of angels and dance among fireflies along the way.

Will you join me in the search for adventure? Will you dare to lead a bolder, brighter, happier life? I need a good travel companion or two.

So, take a moment to envision your best life.

What do you see?

What’s your dream?

What will you do?

 

Brandy Hammond7 Comments