A few months ago, I wrote a post about how I was trashing my life list. It became joyless, and the second things become joyless for me, I’m out the door. (I’m also really good at quitting things. It’s both a blessing and a curse, trust me.)

Anyway, a sweet reader emailed me a few minutes later, suggesting that I live by a mission statement, rather than a list. I loved that idea. A personal mission statement of sorts. Rings a bell, yes?

So I came up with one. Presenting, a mission statement for my life, influence and career:

I will encourage the discouraged. I will befriend the friendless, include the excluded and feed the creatively starved. I refuse to take life too seriously. At the same time, I will honor its weight. I will respect the time I am given. I will live a purposeful life. I will actively seek joy.  I will support. I will smile at strangers.

I will smile at myself.

Did I miss anything? Whats on your mission statement? Tell me, tell me!

Fieldguided Tote, $20

I woke up this morning feeling… restless. I can’t put my finger on any other emotion than that one, and I think it stems from the trashing of my life list. I mean, sure, I have goals. But how many of my goals are for myself — and how many are for greater mankind?

I want to change things, but I’m not sure what. I want to make a difference, but I’m not sure how. What to do when you find yourself with a moderate level of influence, a few spare resources and an ample amount of time to dedicate your life’s work to? How do you decide which direction to take your abilities?

Go.

I flew out to West Palm Beach this past weekend for a press event and utilized the long flight to cross off a more mundane goal on my life list: #67: Finish a crossword puzzle (no cheating!).

And would you believe that I spent an entire seven hours of travel time, attempted 113 crossword puzzles and did not once fill up more than half of the puzzle?

I like words. A lot. And I know a few of them. But for some reason, there are too many for me to know and reference, and I’m going to stop beating myself up about it. Sure, writers should know words. After all, it’s our craft. But to be honest, I’d rather know joy.

And when I fail to complete a life list item, focusing so much on the completion of the task rather than the joy of the moment, I’m failing only myself.

So. I’m starting over. I’m going to slowly edit and re-invent my life list to reflect the goals that might be difficult, yes, but mean something to me. And who knows? Finishing a crossword puzzle might stay, but I can guarantee that the second it becomes joyless, it will go.

I’ll keep you posted. In the mean time, let’s be kind to ourselves. We’re just a work in progress, you know.

After sending out twenty thank you notes to my favorite former teachers, I honestly thought there would be radio silence for a good few months. And then? Maybe I’d hear back from a few.

Instead, I was amazed at my overflowing mailbox this past week. A dozen notes from my former teachers, thanking me for my note, as well as keeping me up to date with their latest adventures. Many are retired and loved hearing from me (and love hearing from all former students, that is). But one note struck me in particular:

Dear Erin,

Your letter couldn’t have come at a better time… I had a chat with my good friend about teaching this past week. Teaching has changed so much… We contemplated submitting early retirement out of sheer frustration. Parents, administration and students are often failing to work together…It has nearly diminished to our enthusiasm and love for teaching. You, Erin, have reminded me why I began teaching. We’re changing lives (for the better, I hope!). I’m so grateful for that reminder.

Thank you, Erin. You should be very proud of who you’ve become. I know I’m very proud to call you my former student.

I absolutely cried when I read this note. I left out a few parts, but I think the message is clear: gratitude is a necessary practice in our daily lives. Let’s continue thanking each other for things (both big and small!) and acknowledging this game called life. We’re in it together, yes?

Go forth and thank.

*Full disclosure: Jack Cards provided the thank you cards I’ve sent to my former teachers. Huge thanks to this innovative company!

I’m still busy crossing off this super important item off my life list (thanks to Jack Cards!*), and wanted to give you guys an opportunity to do the same. A few of you have emailed asking me how exactly Jack Cards works, so I thought I’d give you a quick rundown:

*Full disclosure: Jack Cards provided the thank you cards I’ve been sending to my former teachers. Huge thanks to this innovative company!

1. Brownie points.
The phrase “brownie points” indeed did derive from The Brownies. So essentially, we should be capitalizing the “B” in brownie, but eh, let’s live a little.

2. Caught between a rock and a hard place.
In 1917 in the town of Bisbee, Arizona, a labor union of mineworkers approached management with a list of demands (including better pay and working conditions). They were refused and many were deported to New Mexico. Those that were left were forced to work at the mine (a.k.a. the rock) or be unemployed (a.k.a. a hard place).

3. Break a leg.
There are a lot of theories for this cliche, yet my favorite has nothing to do with that whole “don’t wish an actor/dancer good luck or it’s bad luck” theory. In the early 20′s the word “break” was often used interchangeably with the word “bend.” Thus, “break a leg” simply meant to put on a performance worthy of “bending a leg”, or taking a bow.

4. Close, but no cigar.
In the mid-20th century, fairgrounds often handed out cigars as prizes. Essentially, “close, but no cigar” means you almost won, but won’t be taking home the ultimate prize of the coveted cigar.

5. Spill the beans.
In ancient Greece, the voting system remained anonymous by placing white (for a positive vote) or black (for a negative vote) beans into a vessel. Because the votes had to be unanimous, if the beans were spilled, the jig was up and voting halted.

Don’t you feel way smarter now? Go forth and share your newfound knowledge!

Finding the meaning behind 100 cliches is part of my life list. Check out my first ten here and here.

All info courtesy of Phrases.org.

I’m still sending out daily cards to all of my former teachers (thank you, Jack Cards!), but in the mean time, I wanted to point you to an article I found useful: How to Write a Thank You Note.

A few tips I’d like to add?:

1. Carry small stationery in your purse/bag/car. You never know when a valet attendant, waitress or store clerk will go beyond the call of duty and deserve a tiny thank you.
2. Go ahead; write in cursive. Even if you find your cursive handwriting lacking, a bit of formality is never a bad thing. (This is especially pertinent when thanking a job interviewer, colleague or associate.)
3. Bend the rules. The important thing is that you’re acknowledging someone else, so throw the formula out the window. At a loss for words? Send a photo of you holding a giant “thank you” sign. They’ll get the drift, and you’ll feel creative.

Happy thanking! Next up? An update on life list item #10: cliches!

I forgot to write down my cliche meanings yesterday, but I’m making up for it with a new project. Because #16? Check, check and check:

My friends at Jack Cards contacted me over the holidays to ask if I wanted to participate in a 30 Day Gratitude project. And you know what? It’s always a good time for some gratitude, so I thought this would be the perfect time to finally send notes to all of my former teachers.

I narrowed down the list to my top 20 favorite teachers that taught me about life, love and how to perfect the cursive “s” (thank you, Mrs. Burchett!). Then? I sent over the contact information to Jack Cards and received a package in the mail a few days later:

Twenty pre-addressed, pre-stamped cards ready for a quick note and a drop in the mail. Totally easy, right? I’m amazed.

Anyway, for the next four weeks, I’ll be sending a note each weekday to a favorite teacher. Care to join me?

Good.

It’s life list update time, which you’ll be receiving on Mondays from now on. Which means I’ve got to do some serious living during the week so you have something to read, yes? Yes.

First of all, remember this post? 5 cliches down, 95 to go. Here are five more to make Monday a Funday!:

Let’s bury the hatchet.
To bury the hatchet means to end a specific disagreement with others and move on. This is actually an American Indian tradition in which two tribal chiefs would bury an axe to symbolize a peace agreement in a “lay your weapons down” sort of way. Love that.

I’ve coined a phrase.
Coining a phrase essentially means you’ve invented a new term, similar to a catch phrase (oh look! Another cliche!). The idea of coining a phrase originated with the idea of coining money, which is essentially stamping metal with a uniform die to create coins. When you coin a phrase, you stamp your creative imprint onto a well-known idea.

She’s a dead ringer for…
To be a dead ringer of someone, you’re like, their doppelganger or something. Get it? Good. So, the word ‘ringer‘ originated from horses, who were called ringers (or stand-ins) when they were trotted under a false pedigree to defraud bookies. So essentially, a dead ringer is an exact duplicate, or stand-in of something else.

Headed for hell in a handbasket…
First, a funny story. I have a family friend named Helena who once dated Hank Handbasket. How perfect would that have been? Oh, opportunity lost.
OK, hell in a handbasket means you’re headed straight for a serious disaster… and fast. This derives from the guillotine days, where heads were chopped off and then caught in handbaskets. Quick, painless, but definitely headed for hell. Ick.

Let’s end on a happier note, yes?

Let’s have a red letter day.
A red letter day is a super special, totally awesome day. Its origin? Church festivals on calendars were printed in red ink back in the ’40s. Easy enough, right?

Whew! Only 90 to go! We’re getting somewhere…

[All info from Phrases.org, which is my new favorite site. B/c I'm a nerdbomber.]

This is one of my new year’s goals, and I’m doing swimmingly so far. I’m actually super proud of myself, and my pinky is much less stifled now that its not continually resting on the hyphen key. Consider this crossed off!

Next up? Tackle that exclamation mark addiction…

Rarely do I get personal on this blog. Rarely. Because, well? I get personal everywhere else. Sometimes too personal, but I digress into a new topic that I think you’ll like better:

Behold, the Life List of Erin Loechner:

Inspired by the sweet (and seriously, seriously smart) Maggie, I promised myself (and her, during Alt Summit) that I’d finally write down this list. And because I want to be held publicly accountable for actually doing these things, I’m posting it here, for you 33,000+ daily readers to see:

1. Write down my life list (oh look! I’ve already finished one!).
2. Learn to do the splits.
3. Re-watch every Beverly Hills 90210 episode, marathon style.
4. Snuggle a manatee (I stole that one from Amber, but who wouldn’t want to do that?).
5. Paint my own self-portrait.
6. Unplug (entirely!) for one week.
7. Bring Mankind Mag back — in some form.
8. Own 50 original artist works from 50 different artists.
9. Try sea salt chocolate.
10. Learn the origin of/meaning behind 100 phrases/cliches.
11. Ditch the car for an entire month.
12. Read every piece of published work from C.S. Lewis.
13. Rock a baby to sleep.
14. Convince a total stranger to make a life list of their own.
15. Publish (self-publishing doesn’t count!) five books.
16. Write thank you notes to my former teachers (thanks for that one, Mags!).
17. Visit San Francisco, Portland, Austin and Seattle.
18. Start a collection.
19. Invest in a grown-up sofa.
20. Make a chocolate chip cookie from scratch.
21. Lounge on the beaches of Bora Bora.
22. Taste 100 cheeses.
23. Play snow tackle football on Christmas day.
24. Wash the dishes by hand with yellow rubber gloves.
24. Own a set of expensive, luxurious sheets.
25. Take a drawing class.
26. Hire a personal stylist for the day. Become my own confidence stylist and wear whatever I want to.
27. Own a portrait wall with 50 photographs of people I don’t know.
28. Perform Billy Joel’s ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’ in a Karaoke bar.
29. Taste 500 red wines.
30. Subscribe to the New York Times — and read the style section over coffee every Sunday morning.
31. Volunteer at a soup kitchen on Thanksgiving Day.
32. Purchase top-notch, personalized stationery.
33. Rent a convertible and drive down the PCH. Top down, hair down, shades on.
34. Build a parade float and ride atop it!
35. Cook a homemade meal for a neighbor in need.
36. Learn to juggle.
37. Finish my ‘Autohairography’ memoir.
38. Pay for someone’s dinner at Pizza Hut… anonymously.
39. Send a birthday card (on time) to everyone in my life for one full year.
40. Start a euchre club.
41. Attend a Rodeo in a cowboy hat.
42. Get missed connection-ed on Craig’s List.
43. Grow a garden in my backyard.
44. Sip sake.
45. Try acupuncture.
46. Fool someone on April Fool’s Day.
47. Solve Rubik’s cube (stole that one from sweet Karen).
48. Attend a football/rugby match in Ireland.
49. Submit a book proposal for something I believe in.
50. Take a hot air balloon ride.
51. Go house boating.
52. Have a shade of nail polish named after me.
53. Give a NYC cab driver a $100 tip.
54. Apologize to Thomas from 4th grade for calling him smelly.
55. Get to know my grandparents.
56. Write and publish over 30 magazine articles.
57. Grout and tile a kitchen backsplash.
59. Run for an entire mile… without stopping.
60. Get caught in a rainstorm with no umbrella.
61. Roast chestnuts over a fire.
62. Find my signature scent, the perfect pair of jeans and my perfect shade of foundation.
63. Picnic in a canoe.
64. Take a haunted hayride on Halloween.
65. Watch 100 scary movies.
66. Milk a cow.
67. Finish a crossword puzzle (no cheating).
68. Host a Thanksgiving meal and invite someone without a home or family.
69. Start a tradition.
70. Take a calligraphy class.
71. Learn to roll my “R’s.”
72. Putt-putt a hole in one.
73. Draw a mustache on my husband while he’s sleeping.
74. Braid my niece’s hair.
75. Go skiing.
76. Ride an elephant.
77. Start (and finish) a 365 photo project.
78. Lay in a hammock.
79. Bowl a 120 game.
80. Plant a tree.
81. Listen to an entire book on tape without falling asleep.
82. Stay in the top 100 U.S. Hotels.
83. Start a food fight.
84. Bet on a winning horse.
85. Ride a gondola in Venice.
86. Adopt a pet.
87. Inner tube down a river.
88. Drive a tractor.
89. Build a tree house with my husband.
90. Play street hockey with the neighborhood kids.
91. Bury a time capsule.
92. Eat a hot dog in Chicago, preferably at a baseball stadium.
93. Feed a baby lamb.
94. Give a keynote address.
95. Re-upholster a chair.
96. Learn to craft a balloon animal.
97. Make an effort to refrain from emoticons while communicating online.
98. Hold someone’s hand as they give birth.
99. Learn to surf.
100. Walk a Great Dane.

*And yes, I have a list of things I’d like to do in my life, and one of those is to actually make a list of things to do in my life. That’s how backwards my brain is.

image credit: tamara lichtenstein