shared experiences

It’s been exactly one year and 4 days since I’ve had a full-time, full-paying job. (Gasp! High five.) Last fall, I realized that I needed a break from the back-to-back-to-back meetings, the 3am Tuesday nights out, and all the wild-amazingness that is NYC. Don’t get me wrong – I love the hustle and the constant energy of the City. At the time, I was loving it too much, a la kid in a candy store.

I officially left NYC at the end of Jan 2011 and embarked on a nomadic escapade. There was an outline of sorts, but no real plan. I knew I needed:

• Downtime, adventure time, and hang time, with both fresh and familiar faces.
• Experiences. Stories. Sunshine. People. The good stuff that makes you grow.

Recently, I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in a while and she said, “Tell me about the last 12 months!” All I could do was shake my head, laugh and keep eating the perfect slice of New York pizza in hand. (Thank you, Joe’s on Carmine.) What happened over the last year? Who did I spend time with? What did I do? Why? I’ve struggled with writing a “life update” post, because I’d much rather sit down with you, pour something delicious and exchange the nitty gritty in-person. You know how I roll.. Not to mention, it’s just hard to relay emotionally charged, isolated experiences. But! For the sake of time, distance and for my family to know where I was actually carousing when I wasn’t home, here are the bulleted highlights:

• Spent time with family, friends, mentors and strangers in: Ann Arbor, an old school ranch in Texas, Salt Lake City, Los Angeles, Beijing, San Francisco, Big Sur, Boston, Madrid, Barcelona, Plymouth + Provincetown (MA), Fire Island, Montreal, Burlington + Bridgewater (VT), Philly, DC, Atlanta/an insane lodge in the north Georgia mountains, my family’s home in Avon, CT, and a spattering of NYC visits in between. Some of the photos are up here. 
• Learned the power and the art of great listening and storytelling. I used to be such a shitty listener. Work in progress. (Thanks, Karen!)
• Pushed to my max and left feeling more alive than ever before. It may or may not have been the dominatrix outfit. [Greatest Lesson: A thing is what it is. So own it. And make anything you want out of it.]
• Did not spend significant time in India, Southeast Asia, and/or East Africa like I thought I would. Things happened and plans changed. I accepted the fact that it (traveling/adventuring/exploring) doesn’t have to (and can’t) be done at once.
• Opened my heart to someone special. It’s been one helluva rollercoaster and we are finally living in the same city for the first time in eight months. I love that she embraces and supports all of me – loving, outrageous me – without judgment.
• Consulted for my alma mater/a global network of university Presidents committed to civic engagement. This allowed me to meet kick ass, humble influencers from 50 countries and lead a group of students from 12 countries at a conference in Madrid. Sweet gig.
• Felt a parent-child role reversal for the first time in my life when my dad was suddenly put up in the hospital for three weeks. Signing papers, seeing him vulnerable, having the time to play stable “nurse” with my siblings and support everyone during their busiest time of the year. (It’s a coming…order your turkey before it’s too late!) It was scary. And it was a great reminder of what really matters — loved ones, health and really good food (sneaking in eats from the outside world…check). 
• Started a company with two friends focused on the power of retreat, relationships and a lifelong community committed to each other and a better world. We ran our first MBM together last month. Awesome.
• Built a friendship with three gems. They have become my pulse and an unwavering rock in my life. There’s something about a crew that just gets you, can laugh, whiteboard and dance through life together.
• Had my life rocked during the month of August at Esalen. Call it wonderland or just plain magic, there isn’t anything I’ve found quite like it. The writing and performance work study experience and people I met challenged me to dig into the stories of my life, how they’ve shaped me and why they’re so important. (Story of my family/grandmother that I wrote at Esalen here.)
• Decided that if my strongest group of friends and family are in/close to the same place right now — I want to be there, too! Because who knows? People move. Life happens. You know the spiel. With that, I’m moving back to my favorite city in the world. No, not Hartford, CT. (Sorry, Mom.) That would be: New York Citayyyyy
• Accepted an offer with Change.org, a kick ass tech start-up that has emerged as the largest online platform for social change petitions in the world. Starting on Tuesday, October 11, I will be working as a Director of Partnerships focused on maximizing impact/doing biz dev with the most significant women’s rights and gay rights non-profits and supporters in the country. Fantastic team, can work from anywhere, have flex time, and it supports my other passions, too. Great fit. Totally pumped. Dancing in the kitchen pumped. Btw, if you have any partnership leads/suggestions — would love to hear your brilliant ideas.  

This fall I’ll be in DC – Oct 7-12, LA – Oct 18-21, Houston area — Nov 10-14, with CT + NYC in between. Let me know if we can play/catch up in-person. And please, please let me know if I can be helpful with anything you’re doing/thinking. I want updates!

That’s the skinny. I imagine only my Dad and a handful of my favorite stalker friends are still reading. Love it. With that — a final big THANK YOU to everyone who opened their homes and hearts to me in 2012. Especially my parents (<- yes, that is Sam brushing Cal’s hair..), who after all these years, continue to leave my childhood room relatively untouched. (Score!)

Much love.

The following story was written within a 12 minute writing prompt, during a  writing and performance class that I experienced during August 2011 at Esalen in Big Sur, California. The prompt was: Begin your story with a quote from your life.

—

“You’re getting your inheritance now.”

It was almost exactly twenty-two years ago, October 1989. Oma, my beautiful German grandmother, was the sole proprietor of the family businesses, the cabin on the Cape, and the iconic Miller family home in Avon, Connecticut. She was the healthiest 63 year old woman everyone knew. The occasional Corona at the beach was her only guilty pleasure. I still love looking at that photo of her - absolutely radiant, swigging back the cerveza. Get it girl.

Just a few years before, my raucous, alcoholic, controlling, Irish grandfather - the one and only crazy Earl Miller - had died of colon cancer. Oma was finally coming into her own. Traveling. Running the show. Matriarch of the family and the business; some say the town. During the second week of October, Oma decided to change life insurance policies. As she explained to my mother, “It was time for a better one.” There would be a week in between the old policy and the new one. No problem.

On the morning of October 18, 1989, Oma didn’t show up for work. My mom’s sister, whom many liken to my grandfather, walked the short 150 steps from Miller Foods at 308 Arch Rd to the Miller home at 310 Arch Rd, to find out what Oma was up to. I imagine the kitchen smelled like a grandmother’s kitchen does, maybe the way it smells now when I’m home visiting my parents in the same house. Oma was an incredible cook, I hear. I don’t remember much because I was only four years old.

As my mom’s sister walked into Oma’s bedroom – hold up – wow – I’ve never actually played out the moment when my insane, bitter, judgmental, manipulative aunt walked into her mother’s bedroom to find her mother eyes closed; to find her not breathing, with no heart beat and with no life insurance.

With the shock of Oma’s death, came a half million dollars in back taxes owed to the state of Connecticut. Before October 18, everyone, Oma included, was so proud to have her name as the sole proprietor on…everything. Now my mom, dad and aunt were faced with the biggest bill and sadness of their entire lives.

It took years to pay off the debt. They sold the Cape house and refinanced what had taken decades to build. Eventually, they made it. They clawed their way back, humble, with open hearts. When Oma died, my parents had three kids under the age of 9 years old. I can’t even imagine how they made it through this time of struggle and heartbreak. It gives me the chills and it gives me strength. I am so inspired by their resilience.

This experience has shaped our lives. It’s shaped how we share money (openly) and it’s shaped how we spend time together (often). For as long as I can remember – for sure since Oma’s death – whenever I’m going somewhere, or sometimes sent with a note in the mail, my parents will slip me an extra $20, $50, whatever extra cash they have on hand. “You’re getting your inheritance now. Enjoy it while you can.”

Father’s Day. It’s one of those American holiday’s we often overlook. Why? Maybe it’s because many mom’s “do it all”, so we make Mother’s Day a bigger deal. Maybe it’s because we assume men don’t need the recognition, they just don’t mind as much as women. Or maybe it’s because the US divorce rate is 50%, and of that 50% - 84% of custodial parents are mothers. Overall, the numbers sing it — in the US, women are still the ones doing most of the old school parent stuff.  

But what about the great dads in the world? Today, on the other side of the ocean from my Dad, I awkwardly laughed out loud as I watched a speedo wearing European man snag his naked, screaming baby from the sand before she ran into the ocean. I thought to myself, “I wonder what Daddio is up to today?” It also reminded me of a “Dad epiphany” from earlier this year…

It was my first night of a Storytelling Workshop at Esalen. Our first assignment - tell a story about your name. I talked about my hyphenated last name and how my force-of-nature mother wanted to keep the tradition of her family’s name alive. By the end of the story, Thomas, my attentive partner, asked me cautiously: “You spoke a lot about your mom. What about your dad…are you close to him?” 

I was so taken aback. Yes, of course, I’m close to my dad. I treasure the relationship I’ve built with him through years of basketball, family trips, commiserating about mom’s “stuff” and our ice cream/mac ‘n cheese obsessions.

Thomas got me thinking… Shit. My dad is extraordinary. He not only wanted to pass his last name on to his children, but he also wanted his wife to be an equal partner in the naming game. This was not the norm in the early 1980’s, and even today - it’s rare to find children with hyphenated last names. When I really started breaking it down, it shook my core.

Daddio - Thank you for a last name that doesn’t fit on most paperwork, and thank you for showing me, our family, and the world what it means to be an incredible parent. It’s in everything you do, and everything you say - and don’t say. Happy Father’s Day. I love you even more than I love food. 

PS: Shout out to Mom. Thanks for making Dad a dad, Caliente. 

PPS: Classic photo above. Just another Sunday…sitting in his head-of-the-table chair, mom’s stuff all over the counters, him snickering about the latest world news. Keep it real, Sammy, keep it real. Love. 

One thing’s for sure…I definitely pay my phone bill every month. 

Let’s dissect that later.

In the meantime: Commitment

Recently, I’ve been spending some time with my family in glorious suburban Connecticut. Yesterday, walking out of the gym, I found my mom laughing with her friend Mo. They were replaying the day’s disco swim class and admiring the teacher’s killer 80 year old body. (For real, it’s insane.) We (Mom, Dad, Tanner - my superb bro, and I) were headed to post-gym sess dinner at one of our local favs (Saybrook Fish House - to die for baked stuffed shrimp), and Mom asked Mo to join us. This woman’s beautiful soul radiates from her smile, soft eyes and entire being. She’s got that whole “I just want to tuck you in my pocket and take you everywhere” vibe going on.

During our conversation, Mo shared that each year she chooses a “theme” to focus on, dive into and learn more about. She noted that her exploration process of joy, making judgements, sexuality, etc has helped her learn more about herself that anything else in her 72 years of life. “I really sit with the words. The meanings. The reasonings. The stories they bring up. It gets wild fast.”

We all know that “wild” is the Miller-Stevens fam’s unspoken second-hyphened-third-last-name, so right then and there - we all picked themes. That’s right. On Monday, June 6, 2011 our first year of family themes began.

Me: Commitment // Tanner: Decisiveness // Mom (Cal): Letting go // Dad (Sam): Being healthy // Cam (my sis): TBD (she’s on vaca…)

Today I spent a fair amount of time stewing on this word that has plagued me for years. Commitment. It’s not that I’m consistently bad at it, it’s that I’m not consistent at all.

Over the next year, I’m committing to owning this word, commitment. All of it. Pulling back the curtains on the why’s, how’s, who’s and what’s. It’s time. And because I only have 2% battery left, good commitments and goodnight.