But, with the watching, came the doing. I’m tired of anxious-pent up-annoyed-grumpy Rachael. It’s not who I want to be for the rest of my life. So here’s my stake in the ground (that’s a phrase, right? For when you’re making a point? Or is it putting your flag in the ground?): Today starts three hundred and sixty-five days of gratitude.

(My grumpiness just got overwhelmed. Hold please.)

Okay. Back.

Yes. 365 days of searching for moments to be grateful for. Moments to celebrate. Reasons to smile and laugh instead of frown and stomp and shake my fist in traffic. And while I don’t intend to blog about these moments every day (maybe I’ll tweet about ‘em), I’ll try to keep you in the loop. But since I’m here now, I’ll tell you about today.

Today, I’m grateful for Ramon de Ocampo, who set aside hours he needed to work to help me with some very heavy lifting. I’m thankful we share a sense of humor, so we could laugh while we worked. I’m thankful for Skip Hopkins, whose texts and comments make me burst out laughing in the middle of restaurants, even if I’m by myself. I’m grateful for Jessie Miller, who, without a moment’s thought, let me borrow her car for the WHOLE weekend. I’m grateful for my dog, who is currently dreaming about something exciting, because she’s running in her sleep. I’m thankful for the sunshine…and for free parking at Chick-Fil-A. And I’m very thankful for the friends and family who support me even when I’m SourPuss in Boots.

Aw. That felt great. I think this is going to be a great year!

Well. One month later, I feel like I’ve done just that. And goodness GRACIOUS…my heart is energized, I’m consistently grateful, and I generally feel like my cup runneth over. With sweet people, with fun opportunities, with open doors. Not quite certain why I didn’t do this sooner.

Now…that’s not to say I’ve become Mary Tyler Moore. Or New Girl’s Jess, for those of you too young to know who Mary Tyler Moore is. (But if you want to educate yourself, click here for a good start. Which…on a separate note…is it just me or did that opening feel way more powerful on Nick ‘n Nite 25 years ago?) I’m still grumpy and skeptical and prone to shout things I don’t mean in traffic. (And I aaammmm working on that, by the way.) But in the quiet moments…my heart is starting to hang onto gratitude…rather than hurt.

And that’s an improvement.

Love love.

On Friday, I had an audition for an indie feature. It’s the first audition my new agent has sent me on, so I spent the 14 hours I had between receiving the script and going in for the casting director working HARD. And, as I walked into my audition, it was one of those rare moments I truly felt like I had the character down. I walked in, began my scene, and in the middle of my second blustery monologue, the casting director’s cell phone started ringing. On full blast. I stopped, as she ran across the room, then realized she was motioning for me to continue my scene looking at the camera. As I struggled to regain my footing, she answered her cell phone. When I finished the scene, she brushed me off and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll edit my phone out. You were great, exactly what we need, thanks.” That was all. I didn’t even have the opportunity to finish the remaining four scenes.

…::BIG sigh::…

But tonight was good. A reminder of what separates good from great. A reminder that controlling, inconsiderate industry folk aren’t the end all, be all. A reminder to keep pushing, keep the blinders on, keep working a little bit harder, then a little bit harder, then a little bit harder.  And a reminder to stop being so down all the time.

I find myself prone to negativity. Maybe more lately, as I’ve lost my best friend in this town, and not having someone to share life with makes everything a little darker. But negative tweets get me down, negative Facebooking gets me down, negative traffic gets me down, you can only imagine the number this election cycle is doing to me, and on and on it goes. I seem to be in a constant flux between anxiety and irritation. So it’s time to prune the branches, trim the fat, and all those other sayings for getting down to the basics. So, if you’re prone to negativity, too, would it be okay if we took a break from one another? Or, crap, is that negative to ask for?! Blast. Okay, maybe I’ll take some time to figure out what it is I need to be doing and surrounding myself with.

But I don’t want to waste anymore time in the depths of despair. It’s really, really predictable down here.

But the past few weeks have wreaked havoc in a lot of my friends lives. Circumstances haven’t been kind, and my heart has been rather raw for each one of them. Yesterday was particularly heavy, and I started thinking about what it would mean to really live with an eternal perspective.

Would it mean taking a breath, and remembering the goal is to keep yourself, and others, safe on the road, rather than about getting there fastest? Would it mean taking a step back and recognizing it’s really not an inconvenience when workers come unannounced at 9am on a Saturday to make improvements to your apartment, leaving you without water or gas for the day, because you didn’t really have plans anyway? Would it mean reminding yourself daily how precious life is…your own and others…and operate as though they may not have another day on this earth? Would that help you love, and be better equipped to know what is worth letting go and what is important enough to address?

There’s got to be more to life than this need to control. This need to prove. This need to fight and compete. There’s a better way to live. And I think it may start with an eternal perspective.

I think love can come in many forms. I think we can all practice love…loving others, loving things, etc. But to say, “I’m in love with you” is something deeper. To really be in love, you have a foundation for that love. Part of which includes an opening up of the other person. To be *in* love, you’ve made yourself completely vulnerable, and have been wholly accepted by the person you’re with. And vice versa.

For me to say to a friend (or an acquaintance, or even a stranger), who has never given me the room to let my true self, ugliness, vulnerability and all spill out, “I’m in love with you,” isn’t actually love at all. It may be infatuation…it may even be a form love…but in love? What’s it based on?

I’m not saying every two people who are in a relationship and vulnerable with one other are definitely in love. I’ve seen plenty of self-destructive, self-interested people claim to be in love, and then suddenly be out of love when a bump in the road comes. But I am wondering if we throw a really important term around more so to validate ourselves and our feelings, instead of paying attention to its true meaning.

That’s all. Just thinking. I’m not editing this. I never edit my blogs. I will never get famous from my writing. Ha. : )

A few months ago, I signed on as a salesman (woman? person? person of the selling variety?) for Imagination Branding, a promotional product branding company based in Nashville, TN. Promotional branding is the thing you go for when you need your logo or information on any kind of product. Think in terms of pens, mugs, apparel, matchbooks, koozies, stressballs, bags, name badges, the list goes on and on. Seriously. I have 3000 catalogs in my house right now filled with every product under the sun, waiting to be branded. Almost every kind of business has a piece of swag in one form or another.

And while any business takes awhile to get started, being new to this industry things are taking me a little bit longer to get going than I’d like. Which is where I make my very honest plea…let me do your branding. Let me take a stab at some quotes for your company, your non-profit, your restaurant, your firm, your studio, your personal brand as an artist, your salon, your school, your club, your annual party. Anything you want to carry your brand, I would lovelovelove the opportunity to quote you on it.

Even if you’re not in a position to make these kind of decisions, I’d love an introduction to someone on your team who is.

Thanks for your time and help, folks. The four wise men of the Beatles really did say it best when they sang, “I get by with a little help from my friends.” I’m excited about this endeavor, and excited about the thought of it sustaining me while acting.

Check out our site at www.imaginationbranding.com, and shoot me an email if anything comes to mind, rachael.kahne@imaginationbranding.com

Love!

When I finished 6th grade, I moved from California to Oklahoma. I had (somehow) been accepted into the “popular group” during my last few months in Cali, and I was riding high on my west coast popularity. Until, that is, my “best friends” from 6th grade decided they hated me, and along with tons of horrible letters, they sent me a dead fish. Yes. You read correctly. They wrapped a fish in foil, and mailed it to me. I think I still have all the hate mail in my parents attic. Hoo boy…you should see the words they called me.

I started breaking out (as in, acne) when I was 10 years old. When I moved to Oklahoma, the two “best friends” I made in 7th grade knew I was sensitive to this, and convinced me that using Bath & Body Works Country Apple body lotion on my face would clear up my breakouts. And yes, they knew what they were doing.

Somehow, in the middle of 7th grade, I was lucky enough to become the girlfriend of the coooolest boy in school. We had been ‘going out’ for a week, when I had a sleepover with the two body lotion friends. In the middle of the night, they kicked me out of the room, locked the door, called the cute boy and broke up with him over the phone while I stood in the hallway begging them to stop. (He did not take me back.)

In 8th grade, I found a sweater in TJ Maxx from a high end store at the time. It was currently all the rage…all the cool girls had them. Mine wasn’t the right color scheme as all the other girls, but nevertheless, it was the right style and brand. I wore it once a week, and one day in art class, I told my best friend I wanted to be careful with the paint because I didn’t want to get it on my shirt. She replied, “Why, because that’s the only nice thing you own?”

The list goes on and on…but I write these things to tell you youngsters this: I know it’s not easy. You’re walking through some of the meanest years of your life right now. And no amount of hearing my stories, or your mom and dad’s stories, or anyone’s stories, for that matter, may ease the hurt you feel on a daily basis. But I will say this…I think the kids who struggle the most through those years end up being the best adults. And, hopefully, you’re learning a very important lesson right now on how NOT to treat others. Try simply being consistently kind to everyone you see…resist bitterness…and know that you have a lot of former rejects cheering for you. Me first and foremost.

And it is damn hard.

Let me start by exposing a part of myself that I made a decision awhile back not to bring up on the world wide web. Not because of embarrassment, but simply because it’s no one’s business. I am a virgin. I’m one of those chaste girls Christian men are supposed to be praying for when they go to sleep at night. The perfect partner and mother to children. I don’t hook up with guys…never have. NiCMO’s (non-committal makeouts) are not in my repertoire. So, from Mr. Miller’s blog…I’ve learned that I am the type of woman that will spend a lot of nights crying myself to sleep out of loneliness, but also have the joy of knowing I’ll always be respected by “the right man” because he’ll know I’ve never had “a slutty period.” And you know, there are hints of that in my life. I get restless every couple of years to meet “the one” and get discouraged that it may not happen. And I do hope that my future husband will feel the weight of what it means that I waited for him to have sex. But if the intent of Mr. Miller’s blog was to encourage women to move in that direction, he failed. Failed miserably.

I’ve had the occasion to meet Mr. Miller here and there, and he’s certainly put on a pedestal within the Christian subculture. Beyond that, his book, Searching for God Knows What, spoke more clearly to me in a time of need and transition than any other book ever had. So I was surprised that in this particular blog post, his six points spoke so much anger, hate and shame. There was no remnant of hope…no grace extended to women who have made mistakes, or even been taken advantage of. It’s a post condemning women, and my heart aches for its readers who were reminded that their past may not make them worthy of a good man’s pursuit.

I know his blog was directed toward a very specific audience of women who maintain the morals the Bible commands, so this response is doing a bit of the same. And I agree…women would be MUCH better off if they could truly grasp the measure of their worth, and wait for a man who is going to honor and respect them. But beyond that, I’d also encourage them to wait for a man who will extend grace and mercy and kindness and love that will mirror what God has given us. I wish I could emblazon that on every woman’s heart (including my own).

Interestingly, I have always dated “good Christian men.” I’ve kept myself above board in all aspects in my relationships with them. But if I’m honest, I have never been treated worse than I have in those relationships. For some reason, whether it be expectations, pressure or nerves, it seems like I leave each relationship feeling ugly, worthless and stupid. One relationship in particular left me feeling like a whore. And I don’t use that term lightly. For more than a year after it ended, I felt like a whore. And would you believe I didn’t even kiss that guy? In the three months we were together, we never even kissed. He believed it was important to wait a year before going down that road. But his words cut me deep, and it took years to repair that wound.

I write this only because Mr. Miller’s blog stirred up some of the same physiological reactions I had in that three month relationship. No matter how “pure” I was…it wasn’t enough. I needed to tone down my personality. I needed to change my humor. I, who doesn’t wear revealing clothing because I don’t want imaginations to run wild, needed to cover up even more. But ladies…please hear this…that isn’t love. That isn’t grace. That isn’t mercy. That isn’t God.

So, I ask that you throw that blog out the window. Sure, chase after the good things, the righteous things, the holy things. And when it comes to love, look for a man who forgives. Who extends grace when it seems like there is none to be offered. Who gives mercy when you’re certain you’re unworthy. And hold yourself to the same standard. Look for opportunities to offer forgiveness, grace, mercy and understanding. THAT is God. THAT is good. And THAT, my sweet friends, is what a great love story is.

But, being that I’m not married, I’d like to close with my brother’s insight. He’s married with a new baby, which I feel merits him to speak a wee bit more on this topic.

“What I found sad about the post is that he puts a “love story” on a pedestal.  He is also speaking from a place of ignorance.  He just got engaged in June and now he is an expert on the marriage relationship.  He labels all girls that have had sex before marriage as having gone through a “slutty” period and that no man can marry her and look at her as his equal.  Utter bull!  I’m not saying virginity isn’t important, but it isn’t a qualification for a great marriage or “love story” as Donald calls it.  We as married men are told to love our wives as Christ loves the Church.  Nowhere do you find Jesus looking at His Church and saying, “I love her, but she went through that slutty period, so I can’t really look at her the same.”  He looks at her as a shining bride in pure white.  He looks at her as the prize.  He doesn’t see who she was or what she’s done (and it was much worse than a slutty period as Donny boy calls it).  Yes, the husband will need to forgive his wife for the things that she has done, but the wife will need to forgive the husband for what he has done as well whether or not that was sexual or something else entirely (which in Donald’s case will probably be self-righteousness).”

Thank you, all of you, who suggested I do something like this. I’m *sincerely* humbled by your desire to help me along this road. I don’t know that I can truly express how blessed you’ve made me feel.

Love,

Rach