Some of us are born fun. Some of us aren’t.

My daughter asked me, “Do you do anything for fun?”

I tossed the question back at her, “What do you think I do for fun?” Honestly, I was curious as to what she might say. 

She paused … “Drink coffee?” 

Well, she’s not wrong. I do love my coffee. 

And that prompted us to talk about the idea of “fun.” Most of the things I described as fun are more like work in disguise: CrossFit, cooking, writing, reading, driving my Challenger. I admitted to her that I’m not particularly good at having fun. It’s not that I never have fun or I don’t know how to have fun, but I’m not sure “fun-loving” would be how I would describe myself. 

CrossFit is fun!

Interestingly, this whole idea came up just a few weeks ago during a She Works HIS Way class on “Emptying Yourself vs. Living on Empty” with Michelle Myers. During the class, Michelle admitted she’s not very good at having fun. The chat box lit up with other women who admitted fun was hard. 

I’m not sure I’d ever said, “I’m not good at having fun.” But as soon as Michelle said those words, I exclaimed, “Me too!” 

It was freeing to admit that to myself and to hear others have a similar struggle. But then it kinda bugged me. Why can’t I have fun? Why did my own daughter have to ask if I do anything fun? Why were my hobbies masquerading as productive tasks? 

My initial thought is that I’m a task-oriented person. I always have been. Give me a to-do list. Give me a deadline. Being productive IS fun. 

I wanted a more scientific answer so I turned to Google. I typed “why some people struggle to have fun” into the search bar. The first result was a 2011 blog post by a Dr. Michelle Cleer titled “Why Is It So Hard to Just Have Fun?” Dr. Cleer theorized our lack of fun is because we’re bombarded with negativity. We beat ourselves up and neglect to the see the positives in our life 

True enough. But I was looking for something that was more rooted in our personalities. Was I born to be wild or not? 

Other articles referenced depression or offered tips for how to not be boring. 

I tried another search: “is fun a personality trait.”

This article at Well + Good references a research study pointing to five traits that tend to make a person “fun.” They are: extraversion, open-mindedness, humor production, humor perception, and creativity,

The researcher also is quoted as saying, “Creative people have been found to be high in emotional intelligence, which is a key factor in social relationships.”

Hmmm. I consider myself a pretty creative person. So where’s my fun factor? 

Well, let’s circle back to the idea of personality. On the Enneagram, I’m a No. 1 — Strict Perfectionist. If you know me, you’re not surprised by this. E1s are all about improvement and making sure things are done correctly. We like to organize the world and value facts, precision and clarity. And, you’d better believe, we work hard to avoid mistakes. 

I’m not sure that sounds especially “fun.” 

On the Strengths Finders test, my strengths are things like responsibility (read: dependable), maximizer (excellence is my measure) and intellection (mental activity). Intellection is my favorite. It means I enjoy time alone and introspective. The description reads, “You’re your own best companion as you pose yourself questions and try out answers on yourself to see how they sound.” 

Me, myself and I can have plenty of fun together! 

See, I go out and have fun!

Maybe there’s no exact answer to the question, “Why is it hard to have fun?” It’s likely an innate part of my personality fueled by my upbringing, which pretty much describes most of our traits, right? 

Let’s face it, I’ll never be the life of the party. That’s OK. It’s not who I am. But, I am thinking about how I might infuse a little more fun into my life. You know, like exercise more.

Capturing a moment before it’s gone

Recognize when a moment is fleeting.

Take a mental picture.

Hug it tight. 

Keep it close so on a hard day or in a quiet moment you can draw it out of your memories.

And, just like that, you’re overcome with delight. It’s as if you’re experiencing that moment for the first time.

Imagine if we treated more moments this way.

Kate’s 13th birthday

Happy highlights from a hard year

Welcome, 2021! Has a new year ever received such global fanfare? We thought we were excited about 2020 and then … 

I don’t want to gloss over the challenges of the last year. We all faced tough times — some certainly more significant and life-altering than others. Even with what my own family went through, we came out of 2020 relatively unscathed and, for that, I am grateful. 

And I’d be remiss if I didn’t call out some of the simple pleasures, moments of growth and silver linings that bubbled up from the last several months. It’s tempting to rush out of 2020 and into 2021, declaring we will never look back at that year. But how can we not? It was a year that tested us. It was also a year that taught us. Or at least it taught me a thing or two. 

So, I share with you my 2020 highlights. Here’s my top 10 list (in random order): 

Family Time. If you felt like your family was scurrying in a million different directions, 2020 put a stop to that. Suddenly, we were home. And home … and home. Our forced togetherness allowed us the chance to enjoy each other’s company. As stay-at-home orders stretched from a couple weeks into a couple months, our family embraced evening walks through the neighborhood (quarantine walks), hanging out on the back porch with “porch snacks” of cheese and crackers as well as Friday movie nights (so many 1980s classics!). The unrushed pace opened up time to talk, hang out and just be together. 

The Memes. OK, let’s be real: those quarantine memes were the laugh break we all needed. Some of them were seriously LOL worthy. 

Reading. I’ve always been a reader, but my 2019 schedule in particular hadn’t given me much time for reading. Behold: 2020. I read 28 books. (My goal for 2021: 36 books. Totally doable!) Bonus: I also finished reading the entire Bible in 2020. I started one of those “read the Bible in a year” plans at the beginning of 2018. Sure, it took me 2 ½ years, but I did it! 

Active With Holly. One of things I missed after closing our CrossFit gym was the chance to inspire others to live a healthy and active life. In September, I decided to become an independent rep for Zyia Active, a line of activewear for women, men and kids. I created a Facebook Group and Instagram account under @ActivewithHolly where I could talk about new Zyia products but also share healthy recipes, meal planning tips, fitness info and general inspiration for active and healthy living. 

Work. Fortunately, much of my business was virtual pre-COVID and I already worked at home. I’m grateful marketing clients kept rolling in and I was able to forge new professional partnerships with fellow StoryBrand Guides. I even had time to rebrand Fisher Creative with a new logo and website refresh. I increased my social media presence and was able to do a few virtual speaking gigs and podcast interviews. 

Rest + Recharge. I’ve never been that great at resting. I’m a doer so too much rest time feels wasteful. But I also know we need rest. We need time to relax, recharge and simply do nothing. I began to embrace rest in 2020. I wouldn’t say 100% there quite yet, but I have made great strides. 

Health. I’ve always been grateful for good health, but this year in particular, I appreciated being healthy.  

Faith. What could we do in 2020 but put our trust in Jesus. It was tough not to worry. I remember watching the evening news in March and April, thinking, “We’re all going to die.” But I dug deep this year. I read God’s word. I prayed. I wrote in my prayer journal. And I believe my faith was strengthened. 

Husband. In July, Clint and I celebrated our 20th anniversary. We canceled our trip to Asheville, N.C., as COVID cases spiked in mid-July. But that didn’t stop us from marking the day and reflecting on the past two decades. Bonus: We made it to Asheville in November for a mini-vacation. (Side note: we have spent a lot of time together in the last few months and haven’t killed each other!)

Technology. Can you imagine quarantining in 1993? I am grateful for technology that allowed us to work and school from home as well as stay connected to friends and family. The virtual coffees with friends and colleagues were truly life giving. 

That’s my 2020 highlight reel. What glimmers of goodness did you uncover?

Moving past the loss of 2020 and into a rebuilding year

On Tuesday, I picked out two sympathy cards.

You read that right: Two.

One for each wife who had lost her husband on Monday. Both were precious friends. 

I met Tom years ago when I was serving on the national board of directors for the Society of Professional Journalist. I traveled around the South in my role as regional director, meeting fellow journalists along the way. Tom and his wife Lorraine became dear friends, even hosting me at their home in Atlanta. They were accomplished and dedicated journalists. Several years ago they retired to North Carolina but we stayed in touch. 

Our friend Andy lost his fight with pancreatic cancer. At age 51, his life was cut short much too soon. Andy’s wife Audra moved to Charleston more than a decade ago. Through a mutual friend she ended up staying in my guest room for a few weeks as she got settled. At the time, Kate was 2 years old, and Clint was working in Africa for 11 months. Audra was a gift from God as I struggled to work, chase after a toddler, recover from postpartum depression — all while missing my husband desperately. 

Andy joined Audra in Charleston a few weeks later. He quickly became Uncle Andy to Kate. The two of them were family. 

So, I’m coming into the last week of the year with a heavy heart. But, then, let’s be real. This whole year has had a heaviness to it. 

These losses came at the end of year of so many losses. We all lost in 2020. Lives were lost to COVID — certainly the greatest of all losses. Others lost businesses, jobs, income. Clint and I closed up our CrossFit gym so we understand that loss. 

Celebrations, milestone moments and bucket list trips — lost to a virus that gripped our world. Our nation faced political tension, racial divide and social unrest — a loss of unity and hope. 

It’s tempting to bid 2020 a big, fat farewell. It was the year that overstayed its welcome. 

Among the loss, grief, stress and plain old exhaustion of this year, can we dig some good from the rubble? 

This made the rounds on social media and really resonated with me.

I’ve decided 2021 will be a rebuilding year. You know, like sports teams have when they get a new coach. They don’t expect a lot from that year. They use it as an opportunity to renew their focus, get their heads on straight and train for what will surely be a monumental next season. I think we need to rebuild and regroup after the losing season of 2020.

This year I read the book “Chasing Vines” by Beth Moore. One of the lines from the book is “Your growing comes in shrinking.” For me, 2020 was a year of “shrinking.” It was a year of stepping away and figuring out how I should spend my time and energy. It opened my eyes to the importance of rest, narrowing my focus and deepening my faith. 

So much of our lives shrunk in 2020. That’s not exactly a bad thing. Remember, out of our shrinking comes future growth. We shrink, we rebuild, and we approach the next season with a winning attitude. 

That is my hope and prayer. 

Yes, we should mourn the losses of 2020 — a business, precious friends, anticipated events. Feel the grief. Shed the tears. 

And then step into 2021 ready to rebuild.  

Finding freedom in failure

What lessons can we learn from what feels like a failure?

Have you ever had a dream that hovers? The one that lingers at the back of your mind. Sometimes it scoots to the forefront of your thinking, resurrecting itself in a daydream as you’re driving down the road or out for a morning run. 

We had such a dream several years ago. Clint wanted to open a CrossFit gym. In 2010, we’d both fallen in love with CrossFit. We were smitten with not only the workouts, but the community and the way it could transform lives for the better. 

We created spreadsheets of equipment costs, we looked at commercial real estate, we filed an application to become an official CrossFit affiliate. We selected a name. But the numbers just wouldn’t work in our favor. Mostly it was the high cost of rent that made us pack up the spreadsheets and tuck that dream away. 

At the beginning of 2018, that dream was pushing its way to the forefront of my mind. Dormant for a few years, it awakened. I wondered why. Was God speaking? Had the timing been wrong years before but now was right? I put the idea in my prayer journal, asking God, “Was this real? Was it worth pursuing? Or was a fanciful daydream that needs to stay hidden?” 

In July 2018, a friend told us a local CrossFit gym was up for sale. The owner was moving out of state quickly and needed to sell. We set up a meeting. We looked at the facility. We asked questions. We crunched some numbers. Later that week we signed the paperwork. 

It was as God had orchestrated the entire situation. I felt so confident in our decision. 

That’s what made the next two years so hard. So confusing. So frustrating. It was as if God had called us to pursue this dream and then set us up for failure. I know God doesn’t work that way. But, I’ll admit, it sure felt like it at times. 

We poured money, sweat and energy into the new business — all while working our “day jobs.” We cleaned and painted. We spruced up the bathrooms. We bought new equipment. We worked on marketing plans. We invested in a nutrition program that I would run. I devoted hours to the training and planning of that program.

And yet no matter how hard we tried, we hit roadblock after roadblock. Two new members would join; three would leave. No one believed nutrition was all that important. Prices were too high. People complained about the music or the coaching. The monthly rent jumped 75%. The membership dwindled despite investing in a mentoring program, advertising and following the advice and recommendations of other successful gyms around the country.

Occasionally, there would be a little glimmer of sunshine: a member whose squat improved. A member who tackled their first pullup or rope climb. A member who reported weight loss and improved energy from eating better. 

Unfortunately, those moments were outweighed by the growing financial burden and overall stress of trying to figure out how to keep this business afloat with two more years on a lease.  

By the beginning of 2020, we felt defeated. We were exhausted, overworked and frustrated. By the end of February, we were thinking about an exit strategy. 

In mid-March, we closed our doors due to COVID-19. That forced break was a welcome respite from the daily grind. And we began to think about what would come next. 

Like everyone we expected the forced shutdown and stay-at-home orders to last a couple of weeks, maybe a month at the most. Of course, it extended much longer. (And like other business owners, we were paying rent on a facility we couldn’t even use.)

Clint and I sat on our back patio in the evenings, discussing our next steps. It just didn’t make financial sense for us to continue another two years until the lease was up. We called our property manager with a lease buyout deal. It was a long shot, but worth a try. The landlord accepted our offer. 

What followed in the next couple of weeks was a busy blur of selling off the equipment and shutting down the business. One silver lining is that workout equipment was in high demand as people outfitted their home gyms. We sold everything quickly. 

We were simultaneously sad and relieved. And I’ll admit I was a little angry too. I questioned God. I questioned myself. Had I heard him wrong? Maybe he hadn’t orchestrated this opportunity like I thought.

I had even scaled down my marketing business — letting my two contract employees go and passing off some clients — so I could devote more time to the gym. Was that a mistake? 

Where had I gone wrong? 

I hate being seen as a failure, so closing the business was a real blow to my self-esteem and my ego. 

I’ve tried not to beat myself up too much over what happened. Maybe God really did orchestrate this situation for some grand purpose. I remind myself that he has the aerial view. I only see what’s right in front of me. I only see the here and now. He sees the tomorrows. 

I also know God may use us to fulfill his plans for others. Did we impact someone God had his eye on? Was our stint as gym owners a minor role in a bigger play? 

I don’t know. I may not know the answer for another decade. I may not know the answer until I enter those pearly gates and can ask God himself.  

So, I choose not to see this endeavor as a “failure.” I choose to look at what I learned about myself, about others and about running a business. What lessons can I take from this experience? 

The biggest lesson may be that dreams are worth pursuing. Don’t let one hard dream cloud your overall perspective. Don’t squash future dreams out of fear. Follow God’s prompting. Pay attention when a dream shoves its way to the forefront of your mind. And know that it is possible to find freedom in failure. 

What if we didn’t return to ‘normal’?

When the intensity of the coronavirus hit in mid-March, I was – like everyone – consumed with questions. Was I truly at risk? How bad was this really? How long would this last? 

Then came the closures and cancellations. No in-person school. Client fundraisers and community events canceled or postponed. Networking events scratched from the calendar. Coffee dates and social events put on hold. 

I’ll be honest, clearing my calendar down to well, practically nothing, was freeing. I tend to live at warp speed, flying so fast through my life that days are often little more than a blurry mess. I like being busy, but there’s busy and then there’s BUSY. Despite my best efforts to figure out better ways to build in rest, more family time and a few minutes each week to catch my breath, I wasn’t successful. I had vowed that 2020 would be different. It would be different all right. 

I hit “delete, delete, delete” on appointments, meetings, networking and educational events. My commute time to and from activities, taking my daughter to and from school, driving to and from our CrossFit gym was no longer an issue. 

The first weekend of this quarantine time was the most restful weekend I’d had in, well, years. In the weekends to follow, I cleaned out some closets and drawers. We had Friday night pizza and watched “quarantine classic” movies like “Karate Kid” and the “Back to the Future” trilogy. We’ve taken family walks in the afternoon. Kate and I watched Hallmark mystery movies (our favorite) and chatted on the back porch. I even did a long overdue photo book from a family vacation to Yellowstone back in 2018. I was tackling my stack of books to read.

I wasn’t ending each week stressed about all the tasks I hadn’t checked off my list. I didn’t feel pressured to spend hours working on Saturday or Sunday. 

What was this? Aside from missing my friends, favorite springtime activities, a haircut and a leisurely trip to Target, maybe this quarantine life wasn’t so bad. I could get used to this. 

Coffee on the porch with Belle

In fact, I’m writing this blog post while sitting on my back porch with a cup of coffee. I hadn’t carved out time for personal writing in eons. 

As we approach the end of April, our state and our country look at ways to open businesses and relax stay-at-home restrictions. Everyone is talking about “getting back to normal.” 

But what if I don’t want to go back to “normal”?

I’ve tasted a more relaxed lifestyle and I’m hooked. Jump back on that relentless hamster wheel? Hard pass. 

Now, I’m not saying we don’t need to restart the economy. My family owns a fitness facility that’s been closed since mid-March. I don’t take lightly the incredible impact this has had on businesses, especially our small, local businesses. I don’t minimize the lives lost or the health care workers putting themselves in harm’s way each day. 

Even as we resume economic activity, what if we took some personal lessons from this experience? 

Within the first couple weeks of staying at home, I was already thinking about how my life could be different. In early April, a webinar hosted by She Works HIS Way addressed this very topic. Somer Phoebus challenged us to “quarantine clarity” and to consider how we might use this experience as a learning opportunity. 

She shared this verse from 1 Thessalonians 4:11-12

Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody. (NIV)

This doesn’t mean we simply Netflix and chill 24/7, but that we use our time well and wisely, Somer said. We should focus on what we were created to do, instead of rushing to complicate our lives with more and more and more. 

She cautioned us not to let this opportunity pass us by. Don’t go back to the craziness. 

Anyone else out there guilty of packing their schedules too tightly? Anyone else trying to do too much? Yep, me too. 

I’m a doer. I’m an achiever. I don’t always rest well. If you have a similar personality, it doesn’t mean we aren’t capable of a less complicated life. It just means we have to be more intentional with our time and how we spend it. We doers are quick to say “yes.” We hustle. We strive. 

There’s nothing wrong with hard work or striving to be better. But at what cost? 

Rest doesn’t mean you’re lazy. Rest isn’t a sign of weakness. Jesus took time to rest and, my goodness, I don’t think we would ever consider him lazy or weak. 

The last few weeks have been filled with moments of uncertainty, stress and worry. We’ve all felt it. But this time also has been filled with reflection. I’ve soaked up extra quiet time in the mornings, reading my Bible and journaling. 

As we move into a life outside the four walls of our home, may we not slide back into old habits. I pray the positive changes in our personal and family lives and our schedules stick. 

Let my ambition be to lead a quiet life, one lived with intention and focus on what my main purpose. As for the rest? I think I’ll put those old ways into permanent quarantine. 

Mother’s Day memories

Me on my first Mother’s Day

This photo popped up in my Facebook memories this week. Considering that it’s National Maternal Mental Health Awareness Week, it seemed an appropriate reminder of the very real issue of postpartum depression/anxiety. I’m smiling in this photo taken just a few days before my first Mother’s Day. A 3-month-old Kate looks precious in her dress and headband. At a glance, everything looks peachy. 

But when I look at this photo, I’m overcome with sadness. My heart breaks for New Mom Me. Gosh, she put on a brave face, determined to fight the overwhelming sadness and stress brought on by postpartum depression. 

I wish I could tell New Mom Me that she’s not alone. I want to tell her she has an illness that impacts 1 in 5 new moms. I want so desperately for her to know she’s not a bad mom or a horrible human and that treatment is available. 

Eventually I did get help and I did get better. I wish I hadn’t waited so long to reach out. 

I don’t share this story because it’s pleasant or fun to reflect on those dark days. I talk about Maternal Mental Health because I know there’s another new mom posing for a photo and hiding her struggles behind a smile. If I can save just one mom from suffering alone, it’s worth it. 

Support a local organization that supports moms struggling with PPD: Postpartum Support Charleston

I Am Because … essay finalist with Skirt! Charleston

Several weeks ago, I read about a Mother’s Day essay contest hosted by Skirt!, a Charleston area women’s magazine. The basic assignment was to answer the following: “I am the woman I am today because my mother …” I clipped the page from the magazine and put it on my desk. Of course, it was inevitably buried under a pile of papers, where I unearthed it about two days before the deadline.

Finally, the day before the deadline, a Facebook post promoting the essay contest reminded me again – I either needed to write something today or forget it. So, while waiting for Kate at her gymnastics class, I started writing about how motherhood is hard. Hard for me. Hard for own mom. Probably hard at times for you too. And, yet, we can learn from the hard times, the good times, the everyday moments. I sent off the essay and figured, if nothing else, I’d put it in a Mother’s Day card for my mom. So, imagine my surprise to learn that my essay was one of the finalists.

As a finalist, I was able to participate in a Lisette L Fashion Show at the Volvo Car Open in April, and in May, all the finalists will be recognized at a luncheon. I’m honored my own mom will be able to join me at that event on May 11. You can pick up the May issue of Skirt! to read a little of each finalist’s essay. And I’m publishing mine below:

I Am Because …

If you ask my mom, she’ll probably give you a list of all the ways she thinks she failed at motherhood. That’s the way it is when you’re a mom, isn’t it? You second guess every decision. You struggle with guilt and feelings of inadequacy. You get tunnel vision on the times you lost your temper or forgot a school function. Like my own mom, I worry daily that I’m not doing enough, that I’m not being enough for my own daughter.

I’m 40 years old and my mom probably still wonders the same thing: was I enough for my daughter?

Yes, Mom, you were enough. It’s because of you I grew into the woman I am today. It’s because of you I have a beautiful life filled with accomplishments, possibilities and love.

Mom, you may focus on the faults, but I choose to focus on the many ways you shaped me. You were an example of a single mom with two kids who went to college to become a social worker. You’ve spent years helping people through incredibly difficult situations as they overcome addictions and personal crisis.

Because of you, I recognize and appreciate strong, dedicated and caring women.

You took me to Sunday school and church. You taught me bedtime prayers and the importance of reading the Bible and listening to that still small voice that guides us in our decisions.

Because of you, I can fulfill the calling laid out for me.

Mom, you encouraged me in everything. I believed I could do anything I set my mind to and, that with hard work and determination, I could conquer the world.

Because of you, I have done just that.

You instilled in me a sense of personal confidence and a value that any man worth having was one who pursued, respected and valued me.

Because of you, I have the most incredible husband. He’s loved me unconditionally and supported me for almost 17 years.

As a grandmother, you’ve demonstrated a mother’s love and what it means to cherish and adore a precious child.

Because of you, I can pause and appreciate my role not as a caretaker who schedules swim lessons and packs lunches, but as the caretaker entrusted with raising another young woman poised to take on the world.

So, thank you, Mom, for all the big and little ways you molded me, my character and my passion. For without those promptings, I wouldn’t be the woman I am today.

Holly and her mom, Bonnie

An attitude of gratitude

Last November, I took part in the #30daysofgratitude social media campaign. Each day (mostly on Instagram), I shared a post of thanks. I was grateful for something as simple as a good cup to coffee to much greater blessings like my husband and daughter. It was a wonderful exercise in pausing to count your blessings. Sounds cliche, but it worked.

#30daysofgratitudeThis year I’m doing it again! So follow me on Instagram and Twitter @hollyannfisher to see how I’m expressing my gratitude during the month of November.

Go ahead, say ‘yes!’

There’s something about turning 40 that makes you say, “Why not? Life’s short!” That’s why I decided this would be the year of “yes.” I was going to say “yes” to experiences and opportunities I may have said “maybe” or “no” to in the past.

 

Earlier this year, Garth Brooks came to town and I said “yes” to immediately buying tickets. There was no pause to consider the cost or the timing. I haven’t been able to attend SPJ’s Excellence in Journalism conference for a few years so, guess what, I’m signed up to attend in September.

 

The Dixie Chicks announce a U.S. tour, and I immediately get in touch my friend Ronda about when we can go. We traveled to Nashville 10 years ago for a Dixie Chicks concert, and I wasn’t passing up a chance to see a favorite band again. So in August, I drive to Ronda’s home near Orlando, and we hit the road for the concert in Tampa. No hesitation about the expensive tickets. No worrying about taking a couple days off work. It was just “yes, we are doing this!”

 

My latest “yes” comes in an amazing shade of orange fully loaded with a Hemi and black racing stripes.

 

Dodge Challenger 2016

 

I’ve been drooling over the Dodge Challenger for probably three years. As my current Jeep Liberty approached 10 years old, it was time to start thinking about a new car. So Clint and I began putting aside some savings. When he suggested to go look at Challengers, I almost hesitated. Was it utterly ridiculous and impractical for a 40-year-old wife and mom to buy a muscle car?

 

Probably.

 

But this is the year of “yes” so at the end of May – just a couple weeks after my 40th birthday – I sat in the Dodge dealership placing the order for my dream car in a newly released paint color called “Go Mango.” (Pretty sure, I’m the first person in Charleston with this color.)

 

She arrived this week and is as awesome as you might expect. In fact, I may have left people in my dust at a couple stoplights.

 

Sometimes it’s tough to say “yes” to these things that seem frivolous. But when we take a step back, we realize there’s nothing wrong with treating ourselves to things that bring a smile to our face. Whether it’s a girls’ road trip to enjoy a concert or buying a sports car, it’s OK to say “yes.”

 

And if someone wants to drag race down the highway, well, I just might say “yes” to that too! 😉

 

(P.S. My CrossFit friends will appreciate that I named the new car Fran in honor of a classic CrossFit workout. Seemed fitting for a muscle car.)

Dodge Challenger 2016Dodge Challenger 2016

Newly renovated Colonial Lake is showstopper

For several years, I’ve had the honor of working with a great nonprofit, the Charleston Parks Conservancy. Its mission is simple: to connect people to their parks. It’s an easy mission when people truly love their local parks. Since its founding almost a decade ago, the Conservancy has renovated several Charleston city parks in a partnership with the City of Charleston and with the support of volunteers, private donors and neighborhood groups interested in seeing their parks and playgrounds brought to a new level.

 

In my early days with the Conservancy, there was talk of renovating Colonial Lake, a well-known and historic space on the Charleston peninsula. The park was a large lake bordered by a small sidewalk. There were a few trees and benches sprinkled throughout. The park was well used and lovely but it had the potential for so much more.

 

After years of planning and meetings and months of fundraising, construction began in January 2015. About 2 months ago, the construction was nearing completion and the Conservancy gathered scores of volunteers to aid in putting 20,000 plants, trees and shrubs into the garden beds around the lake. Today we gathered for a media breakfast, inviting local reporters to learn more about the project, the volunteers and the people behind the scenes that made all this happen.

 

I had a great time organizing the media event:

Colonial Lake Media Breakfast (3)

Colonial Lake Media Breakfast (2)

Colonial Lake Media Breakfast (4)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stop by Colonial Lake soon and see what’s been done. There’s a grand reopening celebration and ribbon cutting from 10:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. Saturday, June 4, with music, food trucks, activities for the kids and much more.

Dads discuss dilemmas during PPD

It’s not always easy to talk about tough times in your life, but it’s worth it knowing your story may help others. While I’ve been vocal about my struggle with postpartum depression, I was proud of my husband for being interviewed by The Post and Courier about how PPD is tough on dads too. They know something is wrong with their wife or partner but just aren’t sure what to do. In my work with Postpartum Support Charleston, we try to educate dads (and other family members) about the signs and symptoms of postpartum depression/anxiety so they can reach out for help – especially if it’s too tough for the mom to ask for help on her own.

 

Here’s an excerpt from the May 3, 2016, article by Derrek Asberry and you can read the full piece online:

 

Despite how commonplace the condition may be, there is still a lack of discussion about postpartum depression and even less openness on the trickle-down effect it has on fathers, say Holly and Clint Fisher.

 

For the better half of a year, Holly suffered from postpartum depression after her daughter, Kate, was born in 2008. Meanwhile, Clint performed a balancing act of work, caring for his daughter and wife, and wondering if things would ever return back to normal.

 
“I was lucky because I don’t think I ever fell into depression or anything,” Clint said. “But I was definitely feeling more stressed because I wasn’t understanding where all of her stress was coming from.”

Someday is here: This is 40


In my early 20s, I loved this clip from the classic film “When Harry Met Sally.” It was exactly how I felt about turning 40. Sure, it would happen … someday. A very far, far away “someday.”

 

Well, my friends, “someday” did indeed arrive. I am actually 40. I’ll admit, starting in January, I was thinking, “This is the year I turn 40″ and maybe I was starting to freak out a little bit. Big birthdays have a tendency to make us reflective, don’t they? We ponder what we’ve done and where we’re headed. We feel a sense of urgency, asking ourselves, “How much more can I squeeze out of my life?”

 

I’ve done a lot with my first 40 years. I have two college degrees (never mind I’m still paying for those darn things). I have pursued my dream of working as a journalist and have had the privilege to work with incredibly talented reporters and editors. Now, I run my own business combining my love of writing and working with nonprofits and business on their PR and marketing.

 

For more than 15 years, I’ve been married to the most amazing husband and we have a fabulous daughter and three sweet dogs. My life is filled with incredible friends and a supportive family. I live out my days following Jesus and doing the best job I can as a wife, mother and business owner. Thanks finding CrossFit almost six years ago, I’m in the best physical shape of my life. I have all the comforts of a nice home in a beautiful city.

 

I’m one lucky 40 year old! And those are just a handful of the highlights.

 

And yet I know there’s more on my bucket list – places to visit and experiences awaiting me. I have more to contribute to this world and, I hope, several more decades to make it all happen.

 

So, here’s to “someday” and turning 40 – a time to take stock of my amazing life and to know that the best is yet to come!

20 years of improving, protecting journalism

Just after Christmas I received a package in the mail from the Society of Professional Journalists. I opened it up and found this:

 

SPJ 20 Year Pin

A 20-year member pin.

 

I honestly wasn’t sure whether to be proud or dismayed. I joined SPJ as a sophomore at Ohio University, so I’ve essentially been a SPJ member for half my life. The letter accompanying the pin reminded me of what was happening way back in 1995 when I joined: The New York Times and Washington Post published the Unibomber’s 35,000-word manifesto, Ebay launched and the DVD came into existence.

 

“Geez, I’m old,” I thought.

 

The pin arrived in the mail the day after I’d been to the see the movie “Spotlight,” the story of a team of Boston Globe reporters who uncovered the massive child sexual abuse cover up  in the Catholic Church. The movie was excellent and a reminder about why journalists do what they do. It’s certainly not for the paycheck or the 40-hour workweeks. It’s for the chance to make a difference.

 

I thought back to my 19-year-old self taking the SPJ oath, thrilled to be joining an organization dedicated to lofty pursuits like First Amendment rights, ethical journalism and freedom of information. I couldn’t wait to begin my career as a newspaper reporter, telling stories and righting wrongs.

 

After I graduated, I spent the next decade conducting interviews, recounting stories and maybe even righting a few wrongs along the way. I remained an active SPJ member, even serving six years as a regional director on the national board. During that same decade, the newspaper business went through an incredible shift as the Internet grew and competition for readers and advertisers became more challenging. The economic crash of 2008 rocked my world – along with many of my colleagues and SPJ friends around the country.

 

Suddenly, I was a laid-off reporter – a far cry from the life that 19-year-old idealistic young woman had envisioned for herself.

 

Life goes on, right? It does. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. It’s hard to have your identity snatched away. It’s sad to see the career you’d planned for yourself vanish in mere minutes. Like countless other journalists during that time, I forged out a new path for myself.

 

In November 2011, when I launched H.A.F. Creative, it was largely so I could do more freelance writing. Even though I use my writing skills in a variety of ways that I truly enjoy (marketing, public relations, copywriting, blogging), I desperately need to stay connected to journalism. Fortunately, I’ve been able to, I hope, make a difference by sharing the stories of leaders, parents, businesses and organizations in our local community. Even though I no longer work in a newsroom on a daily basis, I am just as passionate about a free press and its watchdog role in our society.

 

So, here’s to you, SPJ, for reminding me of a time when Ebay and DVDs were new and so was my calling to something so much greater.

A month of giving thanks

Holly at the Charleston Coffee Cup
Holly at the Charleston Coffee Cup

Over the last couple of years I’ve seen people on social media engage in month-long expressions of gratitude during November. It seemed a lovely way to approach Thanksgiving and the Christmas season – pausing daily to reflect on our many blessings.

 

Clint and Kate 11.22.15
Celebrating Clint’s birthday with dinner out.

So this year I decided to be part of #30daysofgratitude. So far, I’ve only missed a handful of days (not because I wasn’t thankful that day but just forgot to post!). Plus, I tried to go beyond the basics. Of course, I’m thankful daily for food, clothing and a roof over my head. I’m thankful for my health, my family and a job I enjoy. Those seem obvious expressions of gratitude, and I wanted my November social media campaign to be truly unique to me and my life.

 

I started the month grateful for my business, which marked its fourth anniversary on Nov. 1. To celebrate, I launched my new company website (which I’d been chipping away at for months). The month continued with gratitude shout outs to H.A.F. Creative clients, my Sisterhood small group at church, my fellow volunteers at Postpartum Support Charleston, supportive grandparents, my husband on his birthday, my daughter in her Girl Scout uniform and simple things like books and coffee.

 

You can check out my posts on Instagram (@hollyannfisher).

Moms Night Out
Postpartum Support Charleston event

 

This was such a fun exercise. It really got me thinking everyday about what to highlight. And it’s a reminder that even on hectic, crazy days where it seems nothing is going right, there is indeed a moment for which we can pause and give thanks. I think I’ve started a new November tradition. In fact, I’ll try to keep the practice going year round.

 

Even though I might not post daily on Instagram, Twitter or Facebook, I can tuck away those little moments – my daughter’s smile, my husband’s laugh, a hot cup of coffee – and let my heart fill with gratitude.