Keep Going: Thoughts on Celebrating Four Years of Windrose

Keep going.

Those were the words that came to mind when I sat down at this desk decorated with cactus wall art and an F. Scott Fitzgerald quote print. I closed my eyes, took a sip of my third-time-reheated coffee, and asked: What do I write?

And that’s when “keep going” waved me down on the side of my brain highway.

I tried to learn Arabic a couple of years ago. Once a week, I met in a classroom with other adult students, all there for different reasons to learn a language so foreign from their own. By the end, the only phrase I learned was “Ana Ally, ana min madinat Nashville”—“I’m Ally, I’m from the city of Nashville.” I gave up before the class semester even ended.

For a few months last year, I regularly attended Pilates classes. I felt empowered to become a “strong woman” (my favorite phrase to tell others) through these classes. I haven’t been to a class in over a year.

One of my goals this year was to write an essay about every trip I took. It’s December, and I still haven’t written about my trip to Canada from June.

I have given up on so many things.

Keep going isn’t exactly my life motto. I’m an instant-results girl, which is why cooking and 5-o’clock traffic bring me such mental anguish.

But today Windrose is celebrating four years of existing in this li’l Internet space—four years of stories told of navigating the challenges and triumphs of life in your twenties.

I’ll be honest (this blog is like my favorite neighborhood Mexican restaurant anyways: a safe space)—the question of “should I give up?” has whispered itself to me a few times during these four years. Windrose is no media empire by any means. The Windrose team has fluctuated over the years in time investment and passion for the project.

But we keep going.

And in this going-keeping, we’ve made it to four years. In this going-keeping, we’ve shared essays from hundreds of writers on the blog, created an e-book, published two issues of Windrose Magazine, rebranded (hello Windrose, farewell That First Year), hosted brunches and parties, and launched a successful Kickstarter.

But most importantly in this going-keeping, we’ve formed a community of people willing to say, “Hey, you’re not alone in what you’re feeling. I feel that way too.” And that is what is most meaningful to me—the actual, real life friends that have formed because of Windrose.

I imagine there’s something that you’re ready to throw your hands up in frustration about and shout (in your mind or out loud), “I GIVE UP!” before hopping on the nearest train and living life as a follow-the-wind nomad. Maybe a job that challenges you, a relationship that requires continual confrontation & communication, a dream that just seems a li’l too big for your britches.

I offer you the same encouragement: keep going.

Even when it’s hard. Even when the results aren’t instant. Even when you have to wait for God-knows-how-long before you see any sort of fruit from your efforts.

Keep going.

So what’s next for Windrose?

We’ll continue to share stories of life in your twenties and we’ll continue to show up in your inbox with weekly reflections. Hopefully we’ll be able to share another issue of Windrose Magazine with you next year!

But today we’re celebrating 4 years with fun things:

>> Today is the final day to enter our Windrose Birthday Book Haul Giveaway!

>> Today is the LAST DAY to grab your copy of Windrose Magazine for just $10! That’s a friggin’ steal. Windrose makes an excellent Christmas or graduation gift!

Thank you, thank you for being a part of the Windrose community!

Get a free digital copy of Windrose Magazine issue no. 1.

If you haven’t read it yet, you can get a free digital copy of Windrose Magazine issue no. 1. Enter your email below to get it straight to your inbox!

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The End of An Era: Saying Goodbye to Windrose

Hi friends,

Announcement (sounds so formal, doesn’t it?):

It's the end of an era.

I’ve decided that, after nearly 8 years of telling stories of navigating life, this season of Windrose is drawing to a close.

Even Here: Words for When You're Wandering

When I was 22 years old, I visited the desert for the first time.

A metaphorical desert, if we’re getting technical.

I was fresh out of college, starry-eyed and eager to begin my post-grad life. I had big ‘ole me-centered dreams: a shiny, brag-worthy PR job in the music industry! An apartment with an exposed brick wall that (somehow) would fit an upright piano! A committed relationship with a kind, goofy man!

I got exactly none of those things.

To summarize an entire year’s worth of emotion: I was devastated.

What is Home?

Late last night, I flew back into town after a week away, the city lights covering the Valley like a blanket of incandescent flowers. I’ve flown into Phoenix at least a dozen times at this point. Usually, I can identify a handful of landmarks, like my antenna-scarred South Mountain or the twinkling lights of the bridges spanning Tempe Town Lake.

Flying into Nashville, however, was always different.

I Don't Live Here Anymore

I recently returned to Nashville for the first time since moving to Phoenix five months ago.

Before my reunion, I often said that the word “home” could apply to both Nashville and Phoenix. Nashville is my home. Phoenix is my home. I could find that home-sweet-home feeling in both cities.

During my 8 days back, I frequented my old haunts. The brickwalled coffee shop still serves the meanest mocha in town. The hillside winery still proves to be a worthwhile spot to sip away a sunny Sunday afternoon. The hip burger joint still offers a lovely evening to dine with friends, new and old. The lime-green Mexican restaurant on the corner of Whitebridge still feels like a queso-soaked refuge.

There were many “stills,” but there were changes, too.

Why did you move?

A cardstock print sits propped against the lamp on my desk: a taupe watercolor swipe outlining a peakside Saguaro, the sun a tiny ring above. Beneath this minimalist illustration are these words in typeface: “I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”

I happened upon this notecard-sized print on the way out of a shop last weekend, after already having completed another purchase. It was the last print of its kind in the pile. I had to have it. I returned to the cashier: “This one, too.”

You see, this verse has been a thread weaving through my story, simple words spoken by a prophet long dead, a passage of comfort I’ve returned to again and again since my pilgrimage to the desert four years ago, when I inked a cactus on my wrist.

The Good Old Days

Last week was National Margarita Day.

I did not, however, celebrate the holiday. Truthfully, I’ve yet to find THE Mexican place here in Phoenix. You know the one: gaudy decorations, cheap food, even cheaper margaritas.

But there’s a Mexican restaurant at the corner of Charlotte and Whitebridge in Nashville, TN.

You may have heard of it.

Witching Hour (or, Fighting Off Demons at 3 am with a Box Cutter)

Between the hours of 3 - 4 am, I find myself awakened by nothing in particular. The room is silent. There is no sound outside. No loud car horns. No dogs barking.

I’m upset.

I wish it was something other than just me. Then I could stop it. Nothing is to blame. It feels like moments have passed since I closed my eyes. The moments of a long dreamless sleep last about 4 hours.

10 Life Lessons This Cross-Country Move is Attempting to Teach Me

There are a few lessons life has attempted to teach me since my move — all things that I haven’t yet spiced up into a full essay, but deserve to be memorialized by my metaphorical pen nonetheless.

So I present a collection of lessons I’ve learned — and am still learning — in the last 3 months.

What Will Your Life Look Like?

Tomorrow marks 3 months.

Three months here, sharing a zip code with Saguaros.

“So how is Phoenix?” a friend asked me over the phone as I sat on my balcony beneath glowing string lights, a pour of raspberry wine in my hand. The sun was setting, painting the eastern mountains with rosy swipes of redemption.

How has Phoenix been these last three months?

What is it Trying to Tell You, if Only You’d Listen?

I went on a date recently. Two glasses of Riesling, pleasant conversation, and a perfectly amicable guy — it was an altogether fine evening.

However, I wasn’t interested in a second date.

Not because of any run-for-the-hills red flags. Not because I didn’t think he was cute. Not because we didn’t get along. I simply — wasn’t interested.

There’s no better way to explain it. No fear-based avoidance of the potential for a healthy relationship. No disdain for commitment that needs a heavy round of therapy to work through. Nothing deeper than the inner sense that a second date just wasn’t necessary.

But, I said yes to getting dinner again with him.

The Other Side of Yes

I’m a No Girl.

In many ways, this is a good thing. I’m able to confidently decline invitations that disinterest me.

“Want to go whitewater rafting?” No thank you, I’m comfy right here on the bank.

“Want to do a shot?” No thank you, I’ll take my liquor with lime juice and Triple Sec, plz.

“Want to try this carrot cake?” No thank you, Harry, I can’t eat gluten.

“Want to go to Broadway?” No thank you, I’d prefer to go to bed.

In many ways, however, being a No Girl originates less from personal boundaries and more from fear. Fear and I happen to be pretty tight; we talk on the daily. Fear has been the primary consultant for many of my life decisions, in fact.

A Song for Growth

A year ago, a friend of mine got a job at a well known tech company. He had been slogging through the interviews, and he finally got an offer. Obviously he deserved it. He was a hard worker, and his attitude for success and life was admirable to say the least. I knew he was beyond qualified.

But at the time, I was on a career path I couldn’t see myself being happy in. I had made the mistake of staying in the industry mainly for the money. Every month in the industry was a reminder of how much I did not want to stay. It created a nasty cycle of overthinking and career angst. Feelings of inadequacy and existentialism rooted themselves deep inside me. I couldn’t focus on anything and was utterly disconnected from the work I was doing.

I admit I wasn’t happy for him.

Life, Dreams, Career, RelationshipsAlly WillisDecember 18, 2018FeaturedComment

Keep Going: Thoughts on Celebrating Four Years of Windrose

So what’s next for Windrose?

But today we’re celebrating 4 years with fun things:

Get a free digital copy of Windrose Magazine issue no. 1.

BUY 1, GET… AS MANY AS YOU WANT!

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