What did you eat for dinner last Thursday? Whose wedding did you last attend? When did you last cry your eyes out? What book did you read last?
I’ll bet my last slice of lemon poppyseed bread that you just picked up (or mentally scrolled through) your calendar to answer those questions. Why?
Because the events of daily life are markers for our habits, actions, feelings, and growth. A work meeting ran late last Thursday so you got shrimp tacos delivered. Your college roommate had a Zoom wedding two months ago because of a global pandemic. Your friend moved away so you watched P.S. I love you last Friday with boxed brownies. MLK day was a month ago, so you read a book about the civil rights movement and then started reading "I’m still here" by Austin Channing Brown.
See what I mean?
We’ve got at least 237 things to remember every day, and we rely on our planners and calendars to help us remember the unwritten moments of our lives too. The moments we’ve celebrated, experienced hardships, were challenged to grow, failed and learned a lesson, overcame obstacles, and just lived life. Like a human being.
Nope. What started as the Kindred Planner became other paper goods and more, designed to support and expand the vision of the Kindred Planner - guiding and encouraging you as you grow in who you are amidst the doing of life.
From the way you plan your meals to the way you seek rest to the way you love your friends. We’ve got you covered.
doing more did not equate to being more. Her worth was not found in the hustle, but in who she was. Period. She was worthy as is.
But how to remember this? How to keep going through life knowing that doing wasn’t bad, but not letting it replace who she was? How to keep chasing dreams and goals without finding her worth in whether or not she succeeded?
The answer was in her self-made planner. Something she gravitated towards everyday to help get the life things done. The map and guide for where she needed to be and when. The menu for what was on her agenda and what responsibilities she had for the week. Basically a long list of to-dos.
BUT. If she sprinkled in opportunities to be reminded of who she was throughout, then maybe she wouldn’t just live as a human doing, but a human being. Maybe the planner would be more than just a notebook of tasks and responsibilities, but a companion for documenting life and her story as a person journeying through life.
Not every day of every week was perfect, but after several years of giving this created planner a shot, she—or I guess, I—should say, it’s worked.
As a part time business owner, part time college chaplain, and full time mom, wife, friend, sister, daughter, and creative, there are a lot of things I have to do and want to do. I am no less likely than before to pursue or chase after those to-dos, but now I balance these pursuits with constant reminders that my worth is not in what I do. Whether I get that laundry done or not. Whether I crush a meeting or not. Whether my business takes off or not. Whether I am the best friend, daughter, wife, mom, or not. Those evaluations don’t change my worth. They don't change my story. And my planner that I am always carrying around helps me remember this every moment I glance at it (or don’t).
There once was a young Seattleite that moved herself to Boston for school. She quickly learned that the easy-going, people-watching, coffee-savoring lifestyle she was used to needed an upgrade to keep up with the fast-moving, always-hustling, Dunkin-downing Bostonians. So she upgraded. She said “yes” to more opportunities to learn, grow, and be challenged. She added an email account (or three) to her Gmail app. She researched “comfy cute water resistant shoes” so she could get around faster, but in style. None of these things were bad things. But slowly and subtly, she was caught up into a whirlwind of doing more in an effort to be seen as more worthy.
Then she graduated from graduate school. Full of anticipation, all the promises of the education-leadership-working-hard-sleeping-little hustle fell short in its aftermath. The hope of “doing more to be more” felt distant and wrong. The new graduate was left to sit on the couch, hot tea in hand, pondering what it actually meant to have done all these things if, even with all the things done, nothing more was promised.
Many cups of tea later, and with a slightly indented couch cushion, she began to uncover the secret:
By its dictionary definition, “kindred”is, as a noun, “one’s family or relations,” and, as an adjective, “similar in kind, related.” But that’s not what we mean here.
Around K&Co., we go by the definition Anne gives in Anne of Green Gables. Well, she doesn’t ever define “kindred,” per se, but if we were to give a definition for what she seems to think it means, here’s what it would say: someone who brings joy, beauty, authenticity, intention and connection to another’s life; a sense of belonging. Ahh, much better.
Like Anne’s kindred friends, we are your kindred friend, cheering you on towards the person you’re becoming, calling out the beauty and worth we see in you, challenging you to become more of who you’re made to be, and to cherish your story being written in the every day. Not just for your sake, but for the people around you too.
in work, give it your all; in life, create for fullness, not busyness; embrace openness; commit to understand the whole story
with people (stay connected to the Kindred people); within the K&Co. community; within products (don’t live alone); within work (create space to be with one another & check in with each other)
in work & design; in how we speak, write, communicate; in how we create for; in the ways we choose to remember & listen
commit to discover joy & help others do the same; remember that it is found in the balance of life
add to products, work, & others; discover & build upon existing beauty; bring own (self, mind, external, & internal) beauty to work, environment & products