If you’ve spent much time around Texans, you know they can be wary of people who live in cold climates. It’s not that they say anything overtly negative to their northern neighbors. They’re bred to be good hosts, after all. No, they’re likelier to show subtle suspicion wrapped in sweetness. Talking about winter, they may say,”Oh, you poor thing.” But deep down they’re wondering exactly how off-your-rocker you really are.

As a girl who grew up in Austin and moved to Minneapolis as an adult, I know what I’m talking about. I myself was terrified when the opportunity to move came my way. People often ask what brought me to Minnesota, a state known for snow. The answer is exactly what you’d expect: A man. But that was sixteen years ago. He didn’t last, and my reasons for staying outnumbered the original, anyway.

I Discover the Art Shanty Projects

Take last Saturday. My boyfriend and I wanted to take the golden retriever for a walk. He suggested the park reserve, but I’d heard about an annual event called Art Shanty Projects and was dying to check it out. Fortunately our girl Frankie is happy to accompany us wherever we go.

Atop the two-story Welcome Shanty, Frankie surveys the scene.

We were intrigued to find out what an “artist-driven temporary community in an unregulated public space” looks like. Not to mention: On ice! After checking for no-dog policies, we broke out Frankie’s leash, donned our boots and hats, and made the twenty-minute drive to White Bear Lake.

The event proved as delightful as I’d imagined. It was upbeat and quirky–complete with electronic music, a coffee-themed food truck, and a dinosaur pedicab. Every bit as charming, though, was the fact that the event exists at all. There’s deeper meaning there.

Feeling Sad? Find Comfort and Take Action

As humans we can’t escape heartbreak. On some level we’re all grieving something we’ve lost. Anxiety and depression have found their way into our everyday. And many of us are struggling with post-presidential despair. (Just because I made it up, doesn’t mean it’s not real.) As you know there’s no quick fix. That leaves cultivating practices for succor and action.

For me, one of the most effective is art. Whether you make it or view it doesn’t matter. Either way, I’m here to nudge you to take part somehow. Find a way to let it comfort you, or use it to comfort someone else. I, for one, was glad to have the Shanties to remind me of art’s power this weekend. Here’s what I learned.

4 Warm Things a Frozen Lake Taught Me About Art

1. Art Doesn’t Need Permission (and Neither Do You)

You’re talking to a woman who’s spent way too much of her life worrying what people think. (Wait. You do like me, don’t you?) My instinct is to seek permission to do things, a habit I’m working to break. Half the time I feel guilty for sharing my ideas in a meeting, even when I have years of experience to back them up.

I can’t tell you how joyful it makes me to see art happening, no matter what. Yeah, it might be so cold outside we’re standing on a lake, but artists don’t care. “In your face, gray weather,” they say. Take the guy who built the arcade. Though I never spoke to him, his work alone tells me he’s determined not to let winter get him down.

Yes, there was a fully functioning air-hockey table in here.

If a solar-paneled air-hockey arcade doesn’t demonstrate winter joy, I don’t know what does. That’s right. The guy constructed an ice house just so he could display a full-sized air-hockey table, powered entirely by solar. Art doesn’t need permission. And neither do you.

2. Art Gives Us Voice

I’ll tell you who else wasn’t concerned about getting permission: the ladies who made the Justice Shack, a structure devoted to encouraging social action. As their hand-painted chairs pointed out, the goal was to speak truth to justice and listen with curiosity. Thanks to their interactive experience, dozens of people discussed issues like immigration, women’s rights, and the environment.

When you walked inside the cozy room, two smiling women handed you a clipboard with a blank postcard. They gave you a marker and invited you to write about an issue that matters to you. The walls were covered in messages of hope, healing, and yes, anger. A stated goal of the Art Shanty Project is to promote inclusion and joy. Surrounded by the Justice Shack’s turquoise-and-yellow expression of community, I got a palpable sense of both.

3. Art Helps Us Imagine

My sense of joy continued as we wandered to the spaceship. It would never occur to me to build such a thing, which is precisely why I find it so satisfying. Firmly rooted in a lifestyle of adulting, I don’t often take the chance to imagine like a kid. But the second I stepped inside, it was impossible not to do so.

This rig was decked out with everything you’d want in a spaceship–golden walls, a huge control panel, seats for pilot and co-pilot, and a clear view of the journey ahead. As Linton Bergsen points out in Conscious Lifestyle Magazine’s “The Gift of Imagination: Using Your Visionary Power to Create Your Dream Life,” imagination prepares us for success. “You cannot create anything you want from life if you cannot see it as a possibility. Period.”

I love this quote. It reminds me that, whether I want to pivot my career, improve a relationship, or fight injustice, I need to practice imagining. Since I’m going after all three right now, I’ll take any strategy I can get. It’s too easy for me to get stuck in a mode of doing, without letting my mind meander a bit and envision what’s possible first.

4. Art Teaches In a Way Rhetoric Can’t

How many times this week have you heard somebody complain about somebody else’s rhetoric, political or otherwise? Though healthy dialogue is a critical component in democracy and interpersonal dynamics, you know talk gets tiring. Sometimes we have to let art to communicate for us. The makers of the Vehicle of Expression know this. These artists created their own metaphor, a plea for the virtue of words. Not only did their dressed-up vehicle feature a huge keyboard, but they also provided a functioning typewriter. Perched silently on ice, it invited people to sit, grab some paper, and put their feelings into words. (Poetry! Stories! Blogs! There are more effective ways to connect than shouting.)

But speaking of speech, I’ll leave you with this. How can I not love an event that actually encourages me on to my soapbox? Now, it’s your turn. What is it about art that inspires you? Feel free to share in the comments!

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Imagine the tales you’d tell if you spoke with someone from each of the Women’s March protests from around the world. So many motivations. So many emotions. So many old friends and new connections. In my case the city was Minnesota’s capital of St. Paul, the crowd neared 100 thousand, and I arrived alone.

Like many of you, I had my own reasons for attending what turned out to be the largest gathering I’ve ever witnessed. You, too, may be wondering how to process your anger over having a president who brags about assaulting women, or your fears about a cabinet that appears ready to remove civic rights.

If you want to find your voice, one of the best ways to do so is to find your people. And so I write this post, not tell you why I marched, but to urge you find your own why. Then, do what it takes to get out of your house and connect with others. This is my story of arriving to a march as one individual, but leaving with connection and support.

Two hours before the march, I posted this on Facebook, asking friends if they wanted to meet up. It was a nice try, but by that time everybody was already en route. And I know this isn’t a pink pussyhat, but I liked its twist on the theme.

It began three days earlier, near the end of a busy week. “Holy crap,” I thought, “I can’t believe the inauguration’s actually happening soon.” I’d planned to attend my local Women’s March–along with a huge percentage of my friends and family–but had been too buried in work to make actual plans.

Flustered, I scanned Twitter for details. It was then that I discovered the Pussyhat Project and went straight to Etsy for a crafty version of my own. (Kimberly of NovaKnowledge in Pennsylvania soon earned my lifelong fondness for her creative genius and fast shipping!)

Yep.

By the morning of the march, the best I’d scraped together was the vague intent of a previous co-worker. She’d be organizing a group at the college where the march began, but this was hardly specific enough to find her. So, I decided to wing it. My mild unease was trounced by optimism: “If I can’t make a friend out from thousands of like-minded people, something’s wrong, anyway!”

I spent way too long strategizing the proper layers for the 35-degree weather, then headed to St. Paul. Five hours later, after the rally, as I walked the two miles back to where I’d parked, I was filled with joy. “I’m so glad I came alone,” I thought to myself. “Think of what I’d have missed otherwise!” And it’s true. See what happened, then let me know if you agree.

Spoiler alert: I made new friends while walking from my car to the march. We stood in this parking lot for more than an hour, waiting to begin.

As I looked for parking, the neighborhood streets were packed. Cars and people were coming from all directions. I’d expected as much, so I’d come prepared to walk. I had my hiking boots on, and I’d jammed my tiny purse full of protein bars. I began walking on one side of the street, but after a few minutes decided to cross to the other. Looking back, it was one of those snap decisions that changed the course of my day–not to mention the future of my friendships.

I ended up behind a group of four, who–let’s be honest–were walking a little slow for my taste. A perennially-late type, I have the habit of walking briskly everywhere I go. My instinct was to plow ahead of them, but something held me back. Before long we started to chat. A subtle shift happened about 10 minutes in. Though nobody verbalized it, somehow we’d come to an understanding: Either I’d adopted the group, or they’d adopted me. Instead of a four plus one, we’d become a party of five.

I approached a stranger to get this shot. Can you believe her thoughtfulness and talent?

Eventually we neared the college parking lot and heard the roar of an undoubtedly large crowd. I experienced a jolt of pride when we crested the hill and its magnitude was revealed. While I surveyed the scene, I received a tap on the shoulder. One of my new friends handed me a sign and said, “Here take this. I made an extra.” In my hasty non-prep mode, I’d dreamed such a thing might happen, but having it actually occur was more touching than I could’ve imagined.

Once the march started I had more opportunities to marvel at the size of the gathering. The night before I’d seen on Facebook that 27 thousand committed to come. I was worried people would flake, so I was thrilled to see we’d crushed that number. My crew couldn’t sense where we were in the lineup, till we turned a corner and saw hoards of folks crossing the bridge toward the state capitol. At this point we deduced we were about the middle of the pack.

Trust me when I tell you a crowd of 100 thousand is a lot of people.

We passed by the state history center and soon reached the capitol. We could hear speeches and cheering, but it took awhile to figure out where the speakers were positioned. I finally spotted a navy awning in the distance. It was inspiring to hear the leaders’ enthusiasm, but I was content to simply look around. Spotting clever signs and a multitude of pink hats was just as exhilarating for me.

Once we found a spot to stand, I began to scope out photo ops. There was plenty of good content, and every person I approached was happy to participate. At one point, while crouching down to compose a shot, I got another tap on the shoulder. I turned to see a woman in a white pom-pommed hat. “I saw that photo you just took,” she said. “What are the chances you could send it to me? My phone just died.”

As it turns out, my new ally in photography and feminism was Julie Stewart-Binks, sports reporter and all-around badass. (And yes, she did give me permission to mention her.)

Delighted to be asked, I agreed. We struck up a conversation, and she impressed me immediately. She told me she was in town for less than 24 hours but had made a point to come to the march. “Heck, yeah!” I thought to myself, knowing I’d have done the exact same thing. I value intention more and more these days, so it felt good to encounter a kindred, stalwart spirit. Speaking of kindred spirits: I just arranged to have coffee next week with with one of my new friends I met at the rally.

So, there you have it: I arrived at the March alone and walked away wrapped in community. I confess I hesitated to write this post, out of fear of seeming too political. But what kind of person writes a blog about finding her voice, then becomes too shy to tell about the rally that may have been part of the largest demonstration in U.S. history? Honestly!

I’ll leave you with this. Solidarity in pink pussyhats, y’all!

Now, I’d love to hear your stories of the March! Feel free to contribute in the comments.

One simple word: “Today.” Tattooed on her wrist, in swooping cursive, the message resonated with me. We’d never met till this morning, so I didn’t ask too many questions, but I was intrigued. I figured there must be a story there—one I hoped to hear someday—but for now, we weren’t here to learn each other’s backstories. No, today, we were here for a reason: to connect with local bloggers.

Two Bloggers Hatch a Plan

Six strangers had gathered at French Meadow Bakery for our first-ever Blogger Breakfast. The writer of One Girl, Two Cities and I had come up with the idea a month earlier, when we’d met over breakfast ourselves. “This was great,” one of us had said, “we should do it again—and invite others along next time.”

We got out our calendars and set a date. We wrote a description of the event we pictured, and sent it to Jenna Redfield, organizer of The Twin Cities Blogger & Creative Collective. (Lucky for us, it’s an active group, with more than 500 members.) Now, here we were, perusing menus and chatting with a group of women we’d just met.

Surround Yourself with People Who Do Your Thing

I’ve been on a quest to find my voice, and I’ve come to understand something. No matter what it is that lights you up, you’ve got to do that thing. You’ve got to make space for it and let it breathe. For me this involves wading through excuses that keep me from blogging. Especially when I’m intimidated, it also means surrounding myself with people who’ve found a way to do it themselves.

And so. Here I was, enjoying a vegan breakfast burrito, discovering what other bloggers are up to. I’ve long been fascinated by the question of why bloggers do what they do. I wanted to find out how the process improves these writers’ lives, and this was the perfect chance to ask.

Blogging has made me braver, and I wanted to find out how the practice has influenced the lives of others. Without blogging, after all, I never would have busted out of my somewhat introverted hesitation and co-founded this event. A book I’m reading, How to Live a Good Life by Jonathan Fields, posits that well-being centers around filling three buckets: vitality, connection, and contribution. Through a giveaway raffle for this book, I invited attendees to share how their blog makes lives better for them or their readers.

Laura, who writes about Twin Cities theater (and vegan hotspots), wore this safety pin to the breakfast.

Six Ways Local Bloggers Are Living a Good Life

One: Promoting a Healthy Lifestyle

Jenn Espinosa-Goswami, “a former fat girl who dropped 100 pounds without any products or pills,” serves individuals and groups seeking a healthy lifestyle. A health coach and motivational speaker, Jenn provides ways for others to feel their best through her blog Weightless Chronicles. Through posts like, “KFC Put Me in the Hospital” and “How to Love Yourself When You Hate Your Body,” Jenn impresses me with her gutsy storytelling and can-do strategies.

Two: Celebrating the Theater Scene

Kendra Plant uses Artfully Engaging as her way to connect Twin Cities locals with arts. I wanted to do a fist pump when I read her review of Camelot at the Chanhassen Dinner Theater: “We must take art seriously because theater, literature, music, dance, and physical art are all glimpses into our shared humanity and our diversity. We must keep telling our stories.”A social-media strategist, Kendra also leverages Twitter to celebrate good things happening in our vibrant theater scene.

Meghan’s tattoo caught my attention, and she was kind enough to let me photograph it.

Three: Living to the Fullest

I was happy to discover that Meghan Joy Yancy–of the today tattoo–blogs about “living your extraordinary ordinary life and relishing the joy in TODAY.” She invites readers to, sit back, relax, and dig deep together. In a tone that makes me feel I’m chatting with a trusted friend, she covers topics like raising mixed-race children and the ups and downs of embracing a minimalist lifestyle. Deeply influenced by her Christian faith, Meghan is building community, writing a book, and runs an Etsy shop for today-themed items she created.

Four: Inspiring Foodies to Explore

Kelly and her husband Dusty bring foodie people together through Dining Duster. (The site doesn’t mention their last name, so I won’t either.) Both travel for work, which gives them the chance to explore Midwest hotspots and hidden gems. Thanks to their review of Pleasant Grove Pizza Farm, I’ve added it to my list of summer spots to explore. The blog helps Kelley feel energized and brings her in contact with people and places she otherwise may have missed along the way.

Five: Planning with Intention

At some point during breakfast, a notebook caught my eye. Its pages were hand-decorated by Barbie of A’ine Couture Portraits, a professional photographer who clearly has an eye for beauty. I’d heard about the bullet-journal craze, but hadn’t seen one in person until now. Barbie illustrates each month with quotes, drawings, and hand-lettering. Time tends to hurtle past we Americans so fast, that too many of us yearn for ways to slow down and find intention. To Barbie, I say, “Brava!”

Barbie’s bullet journal impressed the group. Photo by A’ine Couture Portraits.

Six: Cultivating the Art of Listening

Laura VanZandt of One Girl, Two Cities enjoys “encouraging people to go to theater as a way to learn about people who aren’t like them.” Her description of The Averagers: Christmas War by Comedy Suitcase made me want to join the laughs and buy tickets immediately. But, like life, theater isn’t all fun and games.

In a series expressing her emotions about the U.S. presidential election (spolier alert: like me, she isn’t happy about it), Laura processes her thoughts about a show she attended recently. It allowed eight women to use performance art as a way to tell their rape stories. I appreciated her take on how this painful topic can encourage us all to listen more than we talk.

The crew who came out and took part in our very first Blogger Breakfast. Here’s to you, gutsy ladies! Kendra, Meghan, Suzi, Barbie, Laura, and Jenn.

What About You?

As far as I’m concerned, better dialogue is what it’s all about. It’s a key reason why I spend my free time blogging. I so appreciated this chance to get out of the house and get to know some others who share the same goal. So, now: How do you bring vitality, connection, or contribution into your life?

Do you have one habit, more than anything else, that brings out who you are? For me, it’s blogging. Aside from making me straight-up braver, it’s brought me into contact with a can-do tribe like the one I encountered this past Saturday at Minnesota Blog Con. There I experienced my happiest day in weeks.

Someone once asked why I call myself a blogger instead of a writer. Sitting in the auditorium after a few sessions, I was reminded of my answer: Because bloggers are scrappy types who find a way. They’re doers and and tinkerers and also encouragers. They value putting their voice into the world over, well, not. They’ve figured out the tech, and they’ve overcome the perfection that can drag even the best of us into that special pain that is inertia. (Not that I know what that feels like. Oh no, not me.)

Throughout the day, we were reminded to do everything it takes to keep ourselves from holding back. For me, it’s no coincidence that I need to hear this message repeatedly. I’m on the precipice of a midlife career change, you see. As I’ve discovered, this can be a full-contact emotional experience.

Ideals I adopted in my twenties (that led me to take on a nonprofit career) ended up having tough financial ramifications 20 years later. Decisions I made breezily in my thirties (which led me to put work over self-care for years on end) suddenly feel frighteningly ill-thought out.

And so it is that I find myself contemplating my next phase. When you become more aware of how precious your time is, you realize there’s no point in holding back who you are. Thanks to presenters at MN Blog Con, here are some ways to bring out your gutsiest self.

Four Tips for Gutsy Blogging (Or Creating, Connecting, and Just Being Human)

Tip #1: Find and Use Your Voice, Even When It’s Ugly

As soon as MN Blog Con began, the message of authenticity resonated right away. Keynote speaker and strategic marketing consultant Jennifer Kane didn’t waste any time letting us know the best storytelling is fearless. “Truth tellers are popular these days,” she encouraged us, “because it’s hard to tell the truth.”

She urged us to get comfortable with failure and gave a cautionary tale. On the same day two women chose to launch videos on their sites. A year later, one had hesitated repeatedly. The other had made mistakes–like bad lighting and (shock, faint) feeling fat–but had produced a lengthy collection to show, and a larger following, to boot.

Tip #2: You ARE Capable (of Creating Live Video, Even)

The incentive to try new things continued with a session on live video from Erica Hanna of Pukerainbows.com. (Best. Site Name. Ever.) What struck me most about her message was one simple piece of advice: You have permission to try live video because you ARE capable. It’s worth the effort, since live video provides audience connection in an interactive way. Bonus: It can also be re-purposed in other media.

If bloggers are concerned about not having anything to say in this format, she suggests starting by making a list of your three most popular posts. From there, lead a tour, interview someone, do a product demo, or even just answer some FAQs. Despite having no intention of trying this myself, I left the session with an idea that both thrills and terrifies me: An on-the-spot visit to my fave thrift-shop. Will it happen? Hmmm . . .

Tip #3: Go Local, and You Just May Find Some Cheerleaders

The next session that lit me up was led by Donna Hup of Donnahup.com, which puts Midwest destinations on the map. No matter that she’s from a small Iowa town: Her journey’s taken her from having no social-media experience to more than 75,ooo Twitter followers. A recent highlight was meeting her governor to discuss the impact of bloggers.

I found her message to be surprisingly powerful: Go local. Never underestimate the value of collaborating with people and businesses in your area. Not only does forging local connections create opportunities, but “going local means finding your greatest cheerleaders.” She encourages bloggers to consider places where their hearts are, then reach out. (My mind is spinning: Antique stores! Nature walks! Cute towns!) Consider increasing your impact by starting a social media breakfast to brainstorm how to write and share about your community.

Tip #4: Team Up with Another Blogger

Which leads me to our fourth and final tip, from Tumblewalla founder Sonal Gerten: Team up with another blogger. Blame it on my somewhat introverted nature, but I have to hear this advice again and again. It’s so much easier to sit at home and write to my heart’s content, than to ask someone to collaborate and risk not being liked. Or even just having to talk to another human when I’m in a hibernating mood.

But here’s the deal: Brands like bloggers. Evidently, 81% of U.S. consumers trust advice from blogs, and 61% have made purchases based on them. Especially for bloggers wanting to generate income–and of course it’s wise counsel for all of us–collaborations help grow your following. She provided case studies of successful collaborations like the upcoming Brews and Brands. “Never underestimate the value of meeting in person,” she suggested.

So there you have it. I don’t know about you, but if I push through my anxiety and actually follow these tips, I’m certain I’ll gain more than I lose. My blog will grow in unexpected ways and bring me into contact with more of my people. And if my blogging story so far is any indication, taking risks will bring additional fulfillment and make me a better human.

As always, I’d like to hear from you. What’s your most effective blogging tip? Blogger or not, what practices to you cultivate to put your voice into the world?

All photos were taken by me at MN Blog Con (mostly during breaks in an adorable courtyard).