For breakfast this morning, I ate homemade cereal that I’d prepared on Sunday, along with some hemp milk. I’m working to introduce more whole foods into my diet (particularly raw, unprocessed ones). I find that the more whole foods I eat, the better I feel. I meet my need for food and nourishment.

When I’ve tried to make changes to my life, I’ve followed the same pattern: make a discovery about a new way of interacting with the world, consume all I can around said discovery, implement changes immediately and with gusto! That usually lasts nine to twelve days before I default make to my old habits. The new changes are hard to sustain.

Today for dinner, I had two slices of pizza. I haven’t been eating much cheese (or wheat)—I function when I fuel my body with other types of food—but for some reason, I had a hankering for pizza. I could have resisted. I could have snacked on some veggies, or ate leftover chili (which I also had for lunch), or prepared something else. What about tomorrow? How long can I sustain a cold turkey approach to changes?

Three years ago, I presented a workshop at the Northeast LGBT Conference. The keynote speaker talked about being a former smoker and how, before quitting, she was smoking 60 cigarettes per day. As she was trying to quit, there were days (frequently, in the beginning) when she would still smoke. Rather than beat herself up for having a cigarette, she would think “Today, I did not smoke 59 cigarettes.”

Today, 80% of my food was unprocessed.

//

When I think about the systems that operate in the world: capitalism, imperialism, classism, racism, sexism, straight supremacy, transphobia—the list could go on—it is easy for me to become overwhelmed. How can I possibly change the whole world? I can’t. But I can change myself.  And every day I can make more and more changes and positive choices.

There’s no excuse for injustice. And too often “incremental change” is citing as a reason for delaying (often inevitably) true justice. “Justice delayed is justice denied,” Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said.

So I can never be complacent in my incremental changes (especially when I benefit and others are marginalized because of my actions or inactions), but I can be kind to myself. I can recognize that changing entrenched habits is difficult work.

And I can commit every day to taking one step forward.

Photo by David Goehring

Five years ago, I participated in activism for the very first time. Up until that point, I had not so much as attended an informational town hall or made a small donation to charity, let alone engage myself in the process of transforming the world for good. Now, I engage in activism full-time. Over the past five years, my engagement with activism has taken different forms: self-improvement, volunteer, donor, consultant, board member, and staff.

I discovered there are many ways to change the world. And that some of the most profound shifts begin with simple, everyday changes.

How will you change the world if you don’t begin changing?

My first encounter with activism was the Soulforce Equality Ride. Rooted in nonviolence, we spent months preparing ourselves: research, peer education, Bible study. We learned from leaders of other civil rights movements how to prepare for potentially violent confrontations, how to root out hatred from our own hearts, how to pursue reconciliation.

This has changed every element of my life, my relationships, my work, how I interact online, how I show up offline. It’s changed everything.

I spent two months on a bus criss-crossing the country creating dialogue (and dealing with dissent) at colleges and in communities across the country. But activism didn’t end when I got off the bus. I continue to incorporate activism into my daily life. Sometimes it’s as simple as my choice of words, other times it’s as bold as organizing a large public event. Every step is grounded in intentionality and practice.

It’s a lot of work. I’m still very much a beginner at it. You are invited to join the journey.

//

Name
Everyday Activism

Purpose
To help you meet you discover strategies for social change which work for you in your situation, and then for your to begin changing yourself and the world around you.

Launch Date
Everyday Activism launches right now, Monday January 23.

Start Date
Everyday Activism begins Monday January 30.

Price
Everyday Activism is $18, as a limited First Edition special price. On January 26, 2012 the First Edition special expires and the price is $28.

If you’re ready to buy now, you can sign up here: http://eepurl.com/iwDOQ

What is Everyday Activism?
Experiences from me on changing myself and changing the world. Activism strategies that worked/didn’t on personal and public levels. How I evaluated and adjusted.  From this, I distill an experiment for you to work with and apply immediately in your real life

These are actual experiences I’ve had, and I’m going to be covering some ground I wouldn’t cover in the public, nor even to the free list. I’d call it edge work; some of it may challenge the ideas you have about yourself (or, for that matter, me). It’s important you know this before going in.

The intention of this work is to help you meet you discover strategies for social change which work for you in your situation, and then for your to begin changing yourself and the world around you.

How does it work?
12 units, across four weeks

Monday, Wednesday and Friday messages to your inbox

When does it start?
The first Everyday Activism unit goes out Monday January 30.

How does this benefit you?
Everyday Activism is an invitation to connect with yourself and the community around you. You’ll be prompted and pushed to reflect on your life and values and to take actions to make yourself, your community, and the world a better place. It’s a guided introspection and an offering of potential.

Who is this for?
This is for you if you want take small, discrete actions to better yourself and your community. You’re committed to doing good but also have a life to live. Is there anything I can do? Right now? From here? If you’re motivated, courageous, and willing to stretch yourself, Everyday Activism is for you. (It’s ok if you’re a little bit scared or nervous, too)

If this isn’t for you
If this isn’t for you, but you think it may be for someone you know, please forward it on. There’s a forward link in the footer of this message. The Free Daily Dispatch will continue uninterrupted as usual. If you don’t want to dive deeper with me in this offering, absolutely no worries, pressure, or hard feelings. (If it is for you, you can sign-up here)

If you have questions
I’m open to hearing your questions about the offering, and invite you to send any my way by replying to this message as you would any other. I’ll do my best to answer you and in a way that will serve the group. I’ll send answers to the group Sunday morning, the day before the pre-launch ends.

Sign-Up Now

###

This morning, I rose from bed, walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. I pulled out my pitcher of water and poured a cold glass. I start most mornings with a glass of cold water. Then I turned on the hot water in the shower, grabbed a towel, and by the time I was back, it was warm.

Some mornings, the water isn’t hot right away. Sometimes it takes a few minutes to warm up. I stand by the shower, tapping my foot, arm outstretched under the stream, waiting for the water to finally heat up.

I realize, I take for granted that my refrigerator will be cold and my shower hot.

Growing up, my mom taught me that white people (which we both are) inherently benefit from racism—the racism of the past which allowed our families to succeed and the racism of the present. I understood, I thought, but it was only in a generalized way. Sure, I can look at statistics and see that white people control a disproportionate amount of income and wealth in this country, and that people of color face lower wages, greater exposure to poverty, and increased policing. Until five years ago, though, I never stopped to see myself in that picture.

It’s not just that “white people” benefit from the US’s historical and on-going of racial discrimination; I benefit from it. I had been taking my whiteness for granted. I’ve taken my maleness for granted too. And that I am cisgender (not transgender). I took for granted that I went to a public school without fear of violence, where teachers believed in me, and where I had ample access to technology, sports, and the arts.

I took voice lessons for 6 months my senior year of high school. During my first lesson, my teacher asked me “Which foot do you put forward when you step up the stairs?” I didn’t know, “Either?” I replied. She insisted I always stepped with one, I just had never paid attention. Which way do you part your hair? Which direction do you face when washing your hair? How do you sit in a chair? (Ah… the connection to voice was beginning to make sense).

How much of your time each day is spent out of habit?

When I practice noticing the small things in my life: what time do I naturally wake up? am I thirsty? what do I order from my favorite restaurant down the street? I attune myself to the myriad of choices that I face each day. I practice noticing the larger things: who is stopped by the police outside the subway? how much does the woman who replaced me at work make? why am I pursuing my career path?

Today, I try to look for the things I am taking for granted. It’s hard “to know what you don’t know.” That makes the effort all the more important, for me. Sometimes, I feel defensive when a friend points out an area of my life I have been taking for granted. “I have it all together!” I want to think. Sometimes I feel judged. So first, I practice simply noticing.

I want to know, what did you take for granted today? Would you consider letting me know?

P.S. If my writing resonates with you, I would appreciate it if would you share it with a friend (or two).

Photo by Andrew Magil

What we think of as the past is only a present memory, and what we think of as the future is a projection of the present. - Sakyong Mipham, Ruling Your World

Each morning, I journal. I tell myself stories of the past day, I wonder on paper what tomorrow will hold. As a business owner, I create plans and projections. Each month, Asher and I print more Legalize Trans* shirts because we think people will continue to buy them.

I have journaled daily for the past two months. Three days ago, I read through some of the past entries for the first time. Before, I would write and release. I saved the entries, but I never revisited them. Then, as I sat reading through them, I saw myself clearly. The words were even more true than when I’d written them. In reading, I met my need for presence and clarity.

If I am not careful, though, I will live in my head.

I could journal for hours, look through old photographs, listen on endless loop to the playlist that my very first boyfriend made me, analyze the effectiveness of recent business endeavors. I could jot down a Dream List, create a new budget, plan my dream wedding.

Sometimes for me, living in the past or the future is easier than living in the present.

When I worked from home, I needed to consciously choose to leave the house each day (now, I go to an office during the week).  I wrote parts of Entrepreneurship As An Act of Resistance from Madison Square Park, I took up midday yoga.

As I develop a pattern for my life, I realize that I still need to consciously choose my actions. It would be easy to wake up in the morning to meditate, eat breakfast, and exercise without much appreciation for the infinite choices that lay before me. I can go to work, and do my job well, and come home, and nap or exercise or spend time with friends or work on personal projects or something else all together. It is easy to settle into routine.

Is my routine meeting my needs?

As I look over the list of needs, I allow my heart to tug at me. Which, if any, needs are unfulfilled (or under-filled)? When I find them, it’s time to Press Pause and meet those needs. The playlist will be there when I return, as will the five-year plan (I love multi-year plans).

It’s important for me to remember The Now. To experience it, to live into it, to revel in it.

What are you reveling in right now? (Would you consider letting me know?)

My least favorite part of film production is waiting. We say “Hurry up and wait.” I have to be at set by 5:30 AM… but the first shot won’t go off until 11. I have an hour to shoot five angles of a scene, but we have to pause for 30 seconds after each take to check the gate. Film production is a painstaking process of working as quickly as possibly—to unload the truck, to set the shot, to move the set pieces—and then waiting—for the scene to play out, for the camera crew to reset, for hair and makeup to give last looks. I really don’t like waiting.

My distaste for waiting is an asset as a producer. If something isn’t getting done, I make sure it gets done. I will secure the location, book the studio teacher, buy the craft services food. Get shit done.

I carry that impulse into organizing. My friend Mayra and I planned an action in Madison Square Park a few years back: we secured permits, we created pedestals, we recruited participants. I can do it all, I think.

There are times for doing and, I’m finding, there are times for waiting.

Martin Luther King, Jr. reminds me that “the arc of history is long.” I can see that in my own life: it took me 18 years to come out, it took my parents three years to really accept me. At 26, I still learn something new about myself daily.

Are you in it for the long haul?

Creating change—lasting sustainable change—takes time. It’s easy to sign a petition or to show up at a protest or to donate money to charity. It’s harder, for me, to identify and root out privilege in my own life: the times when I participate in and benefit from racism/white supremacy, transphobia/cis-centricism, sexism/male privilege. It’s harder for me to confront my friends and family on issues that matter, and to wade through the muck to finding healing and reconciliation for us all.

I want to be in it for the long-haul, so I’m committed to changing myself just as I seek to change the world, and in creating and investing in lasting structures while I try to help meet immediate needs.

//

I’ve been rejuvenated over the past few weeks as I’ve examined my goals and actions and vision for the future. And I’ve been inspired to hear back from you about the positive ways my writing is landing with you. I want to go deeper, so I’ll be announcing a new offering soon. If you get dispatches delivered to your inbox, you’ll get first dibs tomorrow (Friday). I’m really excited to share it with you!

Photo by Jeremy Noble

For the past four months, I’ve woken up at 7:00 AM. My parents only believed it when they saw it. My whole life I’ve been a late sleeper. Wake-up-at-two-in-the-afternoon-if-I-can-get-away-with-it type of sleeper.

How did I transition from night owl to early riser? Practice. I started going to sleep earlier. I started waking up a bit earlier (first at 9, then at 8:30, and onward). I helped my mind and body out by leaving the curtains open so sunlight would come in.

Within the past few months, I’ve begun waking up earlier, exercising regularly, meditating daily, Pressing Publish to the public web daily, journaling, eating more whole foods, and stopped drinking soda. Each of those additions to my life comes through practice. I’m still practicing. I miss posting here sometimes, I skip out on the gym, I sleep in.

I don’t need to act perfectly, I simply need to start acting.

Activism is the same. I am going to mess it up. I’m going to do the wrong thing, say the wrong, think the wrong thing. I don’t want to be paralyzed by my imperfection. That won’t help anyone.

So I act. I experiment. I try. I listen. I evaluate and adjust. And I do it again.

It’s not perfect, and that’s ok.

Delivered Daily

Would you consider subscribing to the Daily (or weekly) Dispatch? You can unsubscribe at any time if it’s not for you. I’m announcing a new offering soon, and subscribers will get first dibs this Friday.

Photo by OilBac

When I’m in a funk, there is music to help me through it (or allow me to wallow in it with style). When I am angry, music puts words and melody to my rage. When I need inspiration, I flip on my iPhone, plugin my headphones, and rock out.

Here’s what I’m listening to right now:

“Not Ready To Make Nice” – Dixie Chicks
“Power To The People” – Black Eyed Peas
“Talkin’ ‘bout A Revolution” – Tracy Chapman
“Born This Way” – Lady Gaga
“They Don’t Care About Us” – Michael Jackson
“Gimme Some Truth” – John Lennon
“Hero’s Song” – Brendad James
“Kenji” – For Minor
“I Have Forgiven Jesus” – Morrissey
“Love Today” – Mika
“Stand Up” – Sugarland

I created a collaborative playlist in Spotify. You’re invited to subscribe and to add your own tracks.

What are you listening to?

Five years ago I was cited for trespassing at the University of Notre Dame and barred for life from returning to any property owned by the university on penalty of arrest.

My infraction?

I spoke with Daniel, a student at Notre Dame, and gave him more information about LGBT-affirming events planned in his community.

That student came to a dinner that night that the Equality Ride was hosting at a local church. He came to our film screening and discussion at a local community center the next day. Before our bus pulled out the morning after, he stopped by our hotel lobby with band t-shirts to give us.

Daniel is from Los Angeles. I met up with him a few years later, when we were both back in Los Angeles. He’s come out to all his friends and family. He started going back to church again. A joy and contentment radiated from him that had only been started to peek out when I first met him.

I asked recently, does any of this matter?

Yes. It matters to Daniel.

The cost might seem high, but if a young student can learn to love theirself, I would risk arrest all over again.

Have you planted seeds that came to fruition (in small or grand ways)? Would you consider sharing with me?

P.S. The Equality Ride helped Daniel, and countless other LGBT students, find love and affirmation. It empowered countless more straight, cisgender students and faculty to become vocal allies and advocates. And it even caused some schools to modify their policies. That’s why I am supporting the 2012 Equality Ride. If you’d like, you can join me.

Casey said, “So far, it’s the only thing in the world that can get me up in the morning and out of bed, so I have to believe it is.” While Hannah confessed, “Sadly, in the end I think both are a bit of a lost cause.”

I feel encouraged to observe that I am not alone in asking that question of myself.

A few years ago Alexey Timbul reminded me that sometimes you can’t see the fruits of your actions; sometimes you just have to trust that you’re planting seeds that will blossom one day in the future.

Have you seen any of your seeds come to fruition? Would you share them with me on Facebook? (Or simply hit reply if you receive this in your inbox)

I spent six hours today composing a single email. Six hours, one email. At the end of the day, I sent the email to some 30,000 people subscribed to our mailing list. The email is announcing an upcoming program.

I remind myself that it’s an exciting, empowering program being enacted across the country. That this program will not only have immediate benefits but lays the groundwork for cultivating a culture of respect and one free from homophobia, transphobia, and other forms of bias-based discrimination.

Sometimes I just ask myself, “Is all of this worth it?”

Is it worth it to work for a non-profit? Is it worth it to conspire with visionary individuals and organizations to change the world through web & media? Is it worth it to pursue entrepreneurship as an act of resistance? Is it worth it change myself (especially when that is difficult and uncomfortable)?

Sometimes I can see the results of my efforts. That feels good, empowering, exciting, fulfilling. Other times, I have to trust that I am planting seeds that will blossom one day. That feels tenuous and risky.

Today, I am feeling that yes, absolutely it is worth it. If I am honest, I have moments where I wonder.

I want to dig deeper into my motivations for activism. I want to make sure that I am powerfully choosing to try to make the world a better because that is really what I feel in guts I need to do. I’ll be digging a bit deeper over the coming days and weeks. Not getting the Daily Dispatch? Subscribe for free. Already reading this in your inbox? Is there a friend you want to invite along with us? You can forward this email to them like you would any other email.

Do you ever ask yourself, “Is this all worth it?” Hit reply and let me know.