VIV Extras

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Giveaways

Win a Copy of The Bag Lady Papers
As featured in the latest issue of VIVmag, former Madoff client Alexandra Penney shares her story.

Playlists

Elisabeth Rohm's Heroic Efforts With Trainer Raphael Verela
As featured in the March/April 2010 issue of VIVmag, while walking along Abbott Kinney Boulevard in Venice Beach, CA,

Recipes

Nancy Silverton's Family-Style Antipasto Salad
This quick, simple dish was adapted from one of Silverton's favorite recipes.

VIV Moments

Vanessa Taylor

vanessa-taylor

Hometown

Santa Monica, CA

Joie de VIVre

My friends and godson, my surfboard when I have the nerve to use it, gardening, the cat who wandered into my life not knowing I hate cats and never left, Spinning, yoga, chocolate, wine, oh and did I mention my friends...

VIV Moment

I was 25 years old and living in San Francisco. (After college I had lived for a year in Europe, on scholarship, then had worked for another year for a women’s human rights foundation, traveling the world working on women’s issues, but it wasn’t my calling.)

I didn’t know what my true calling was or even if I had one. I ended up in a “temp” job that turned permanent as a research assistant for an investment bank. (”Fiddling while Rome burns” was how one artistic friend instantly summarized it.)

I worked from before sunrise to after sunset every day (we were on East Coast financial market hours); it was fast-paced, high pressure, all about money — and I hated it. But I wouldn’t quit. I even applied to law school. My life was all about doing things to achieve things other people thought I should want.

Then one day, as I was walking my daily route home up over the hill through Chinatown, it began to rain, really rain. I stopped in a Banana Republic store, of all places. I stood there, sopping and exhausted, and thought to myself, “I am miserable. And I have done this to myself.”

I realized then and there, for the first time, that the responsibility to find happiness and meaning in my life was entirely in my hands. I was in control. At the Banana Republic cash register, they were selling postcards with pictures of skyscrapers and clouds on the front, along with this phrase: “Allow your daydreams to become your plans.”

I bought a postcard, quit my job, moved to Los Angeles and never looked back. I now have a writing career. I am doing what I love to do — all because for one moment, I could see outside the tiny box of a life I had fashioned for myself. And in that instant, I realized that the possibility of failure is infinitely less terrible than settling for anything just to get by.

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