Time flies. That fact is hitting me particularly hard this morning.  A year ago I resigned from my job at a local consulting firm, jumping off the cliff not knowing where and what'll happen next.  In about a week, I'll be officially a year older as well.  I'm seeing white hairs sprout on my head left and right.  I'm noticing the deeper crevices creating indentations on my face.  My body is no longer nimble and spritely, it's got more of a squishy-ness to it and I'm out of breath just walking up the hill.  

But it's not just the fact that I'm realizing the mortality of life, it's realizing I have less and less time to have the impact on the world I imagined.  I feel like I'm at least 10 years behind.  Trying to get the world, the team, everything to move faster to catch up.  I still have aspirations of getting involved at the world level, helping to solve global challenges around hunger, disease, war, etc.  Maybe even help my motherland of Korea (and by Korea, I mean all of Korea, both North and South).  Time is running out.  There's so much I still want to do and accomplish.

And then I look at GiftStarter because it has so much opportunity to have a meta impact on the world.  I see the gestalt of the path to get there.  It's absolutely doable.  The great thing about growing a startup from scratch is that it's all about gestalt, and picking the right details to nail at the right time with the right people.  You lose some battles.  It's okay.  I believe that by holding steady to the greater plan, the right people will self select to be on the bus and the right things for the company will happen.  I have some folks I've handpicked to join when the time is right.  Holding steady despite the multitudes of opinions, the exhaustion, and while many things go well, there are many things falling through the cracks.  The art of having impact with such limited resources.

And while it's hard, because you can't control life, everything is just that much harder.  Incredibly hard.  Children get sick with pneumonia.  An employee has to suddenly find a home because their housing fell through.  Someone's spouse requires some attention ASAP.  An investor takes a longer than expected to transfer funds.  You end up doing a round trip flight to a city within the same day for 1 (yes singular, one) meeting.  Life is lonely as your friends go on with life without you.  I wonder if they even notice I'm missing in action.  Your neck is having seizures because of just terrible ergonomics doing 100+ hours a week haunched over the laptop.  ...  Teaches me, it's a marathon.  Don't fuck it up with unnecessary health issues.

And so these days, time is like sand slipping through my fingers.  I woke up at 6 today, read a little bit, went back to sleep so that I could try and wake up around the same time as my family.  Lay on the floor and watched my dog intently looking back at me for a bit.  We went for a family walk in the neighborhood.  I cooked breakfast.  Meanwhile, in the corner of my eye is the figurative clock constantly haunting me of the time that's passing by.  I don't like clocks (in fact don't want them around at all in the house) because I feel like I am one myself and there's no escaping that time is just passing by second after second.  Tick tock tick tock

It's been a crazy month of May: 1) new site relaunched, 2) new categories, 3) new partners joined (and many more added to the pipeline), 4) new investors joined, 5) better messaging, 6) went to Collision Conference in Las Vegas, 7) couple trips to San Francisco, 8) my cofounder is moving to the other side of the country, 9) my husband's right ear is currently deaf, 10) my dog turned 10, 11) I'm drinking Pellegrino again, 12) I gained another 5 pounds (and now officially cannot fit into my beautiful clothes any more), 13) I started stretching again, 14) I wore heels only 1 day this month, 15) I learned more about who are and aren't my friends, 16) I redid the pitch deck another 25 times, 17) made new friendships, 18) used our barbecue grill, 19) I've pitched to over 125+ investors to date, and 20) finally decided what I want for my birthday.  Oh yes, and we bought ice cream sandwiches to eat yesterday.  Mmmm yummy.

Time is flying by and GiftStarter is top of mind for me every moment of every day, yet time stops and slows for me when I am with my husband.  That stays constant and thankfully for our marriage (you can visit his perspective - he has a new digital presence these days).  Such an interesting, eccentric, curious guy that I married.  The thoughts of him makes me smile every time.

xo,
Arry

10 years ago, my Shiba Inu was born and my life was forever changed.  I understand that there are many potential life milestones in a person's life - and Mochi is one of them for me.  

Here are 10 lessons I've learned from Mochi, in honor of her 10th birthday today:

1. If you can't control it, let it go.  Did you know the Shiba Inu is one crazy shedder...  SO MUCH FUR.
2. Respect is earned, not taken.  She does what she wants for the most part - but with a Shiba, there's a certain air of mutual respect in the relationship.
3. Life's number 1 priority (according to Mochi) is love.  Her love language is quality time with you (play) - everything, even food and treats comes after that.
4. Shit happens, and so does life - keep moving forward.  I had mono for several months and it didn't matter, Mochi needed to be walked 3 times a day.  I have to flu, doesn't matter, she still needs to be walked.  Accidents happen, doesn't matter - clean it up and move on forward. Which leads to...
5. Routines are good.  Yes, too much can be suffocating (for me).  A little regularity though gives you a framework to dance your life around and through and beyond - brushing/flossing teeth, breakfast, lunch, ... rituals with your loved ones.
6. Take a moment to smell the world around you.  Every day, she explores a curiosity - whether it be on a walk and seeing something in the grass, or looking out the window.  
7. Don't drop the ball, even if you get distracted.  She'll be looking for her toy monkey, and sometimes I'll be able to distract her with hugs or a treat - but she always gets back to what she was doing before.  
8. Forgive those you love, quickly.  Sometimes we're late for dinner/getting up in the morning for a walk.  Sometimes we ignore her.  She's not allowed to sleep on the bed.  She forgives quickly and adores unconditionally.  That's love. That should be what family is about, too (even if it's hard).
9. Emotionally charged tones are not helpful.  The thing about living with Mochi is that she does not like raised voices of any kind - and so, she's trained us to talk in gentle high voices.  Imagine trying to have an angry argument with your spouse using your baby-talk voice.  Yea, hard to do.  Tone and emotion are powerful - it's good to be aware of that.
10. Be silly, wiggle your butt, express yourself.  Mochi is a joy in how she expresses her true emotion, always.  The best is when she is wiggling her butt and galloping with happiness.  Everything dark in the world just melts away in her sunshine. It shows that happiness and silliness is contagious - bring others up every day with a smile or a silly dance.