Good Grief

“Oh, good grief!” When I was younger my mom (and Charlie Brown) would say this a lot, it expressed much frustration and possibly the end of any kind of patience. In other words, it was not a good thing to hear these words.

Now, I think of those words: “good grief” and have a new feeling associated with them. It is nearly a year and a half out from my mom’s death and while my grief does not always feel good, I can view her process of dying and see the beauty in it, see the miracle in it, and see the good in it.

seaport during daytime

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I had never thought of birth and death as a (not quite) matching set of bookends, with birth on one end and death on the other. They were always separated in my brain, one a miracle and one an inevitable (sometimes) tragedy. One an anticipation the other a dread. But they are both miracles.

A few explanations, she was nearly 97 when she died, she’d lived an interesting and pretty glorious life, she went on Hospice in late January and died early July–this was not sudden or unexpected, actually, to be honest when we were told she should be in Hospice we were a little shocked, I don’t think we had thought she would ever die.

Watching her face, her eyes–sometimes loving, other times confused–I could see her journey from one world to another traced there.

I was lucky to witness this. Another explanation, although we (her daughters) were with her (nearly) constantly, she chose death after all three of us had gone to sleep exhausted after surrounding her bedside until 3:00 AM.

After, I started hearing about Death Doulas, a person (not medically) trained to care for someone holistically at end of life. It made me happy to know this is a thing and gave more credence to my miracle bookends.

I have so much more to say about this, but I want to press “publish”–sorry about any typos, etc.

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Talking to Strangers

Repost from an old blog: 2013

So, it’s hot out. I mean melt the candles, burn the soles of your feet, let’s go to the State Fair hot.

We decided to go to the mall instead, you know the one–the big one, the Mall of America. Dang right, ‘Merica’s Mall!

 

I loathe it. Okay, I don’t loathe it, what I mean to say is, I hate it. Wait, what I really mean to say is, it’s like going to the State Fair but without all the cool smells and sites. Just the crowd. And they’re not even as interesting…for instance, no one is stumbling drunk and or wearing overalls. Not one person. And there are no cows or pigs, and certainly no Miracle of Birth barn…I digress.

 

But something happened today, which made me very happy we went to the mall. I talked to a stranger. And not any stranger, a young woman/girl stranger. Okay, a teen stranger.

 

Let me explain:

After doing what we came to do, spending large quantities of dollars (for prescription spectacles) we went to lunch, and let the 14 year old choose where to go. Buffalo Wild Wings was his selection. We sat at a high top, and after a little bit, a few tables over a large group of teens came in…maybe 12 of them.

 

One girl did not look like the rest–all the rest were kind of sporty/jockish/every kid. Nothing against that AT ALL–I own one of those (except he’s exceptional)–anyway, she sort of got frozen out. All the girls were filing in on one side and all the guys were on the other. As she went to sit down, a boy broke rank and sat next to a very pretty girl on the girl’s side, the other girl (the one different from all the rest) looked a bit lost, just for a moment, then she took a seat at the end of that row.

(BTW–none of these girls was the girl–rather, the idea of the girl)

Now, here’s the important part–she was so different from the rest of the kids.

Her hair was blue green, cut in a cool way in the front, kind of choppy layers, and she tucked the rest of it in a black beret (!) she wore a black and grey striped long sleeved shirt–I wish I had a picture! I had to keep looking at her…because she was the most interesting person in the joint.

 

Besides me, that is. Just Kidding, she was way more interesting.

 

Another girl had finally sat across from her and they were chatting…but she still seemed outside “the group” and I wanted her to know how cool she looked to me.

 

Now, listen, I understand that when a woman (of a certain age) tells a girl she looks cool, or she likes her shirt etc. that’s like the kiss of horribleness and the offending item/style will probably never be worn again. So as we were getting ready to leave, I said to my husband and youngest, “Hey, wait, I have to tell this girl over there something.”

 

My 14 y..o said, “No. Mom, you don’t want to do that.”

And, I thought, oh, he’s probably right, she might get all embarrassed. But then I thought, young women are different from young men–girls should hear encouraging words from their *cough* *choke* *gasp* elders.

 

I stood in the aisle, hesitating, then I thought what the hell, and made my move. I walked over to her long table, walked to her open side and said:

“Maybe you’ll hate hearing this from me, but you have more style than anyone in here.”

She smiled and said, “Really?” and I said, “Absolutely.” and she said, “Thank you!”

 

And I walked away. I could feel eyes on the back of me–the rest of the table asking her questions: who was that? What did she say? I smiled.

 

I am so happy I decided to talk to a stranger. Maybe she’ll forget about it tomorrow, maybe she thought I was some crazy older woman, but maybe, maybe it made a tiny difference in her day.

 

I hope so.

 

So I’m challenging everyone to say something nice to someone you don’t know (it has to be sincere) things you think, but don’t say–try it, say it–talk nice(ly) to a stranger!

Worthwhile Life

In order to have a worthwhile life I’m pretty sure you might have to have a belief in your own worth first.

And just how does one go about that? Especially if you are like me, and you spent years saying, OUT LOUD, every Sunday, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word, and I will be healed.”

Besides me wondering what the “word” would be to “heal me,” all I heard was “I am not worthy, I am not worthy, I am not worthy…” over and over and over again. Then one day, in Junior High (Middle School for you youngins) no less, I said to myself, wait a minute–I am worthy, and I am not going to say that anymore. So, I became my own little  conscientious objector in church.

Unfortunately, the damage was done. I spent years looking for my worth through others’ eyes–mainly boys. Sheesh. Apparently I was still waiting to hear the “word.” Look, I’m not laying the full blame of this on the Catholic Church, I had some other stuff happen, nothing horrible, but all adding up to this. I never realized at the time what I was doing–searching for worth, in fact, I was a grown-assed woman before I figured it out.

I went so far as to go shopping, see something I liked and think, “I’m worth it–I deserve this!” and buy it. With a credit card. That my husband didn’t know I had. Two, in fact. I had two credit cards he didn’t know I had.

I could say, “I’m worth it!” but really really REALLY it was my feelings of NOT WORTHY–not worth it–that directed me to shop and buy to fill the hole of not worthy. While I was buying it, I so wasn’t buying it. It took my husband finding out about the credit cards, joining Debtors Anonymous, and a whole lot of counseling that got me right with spending and let me realize (once again) the whole “worthiness” issue and the trying to fill the hole using forces outside myself.

Worthiness has to be an inside job.

Gratitude works wonders. So do affirmations. Both inside jobs.

I love the saying: “You can’t feel anxious and grateful at the same time.” I don’t know who said this first, but I think gratitude helps a multitude of ailments. And I would say, you can’t feel worthless while feeling grateful.

And this quote from Einstein: “There are only two ways to live your life: as though nothing is a miracle, or as though everything is a miracle.” If everything is a miracle, than you are too. There.

I started saying affirmations in December of 2016 and wrote about it here I would say the act of repeating these every morning has done so much for my state of soul (and mind).

I’m not completely cured from my doubt of worth–there are times I still have a push/pull with it. But because I have made affirmations and gratitude a habit, it’s as if they simply take over for me and save me.

photography of woman surrounded by sunflowers

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When you can see your own worth, you can see everyone’s.

How have you ever felt that hole of unworthiness? What did you do?

Some Questions to Ask Yourself

I have a plethora of written material spread over numerous notebooks (paper and digital). Most of it should not be shared, but I’ve decided that if I see something that might help someone else take a step forward (and at the same time, to remind myself to take that same step) that I’ll share it.

The following was from an online free course by Emma — probably 7 years ago…and by 7, I mean, I have no idea when all this happened, I just know it wasn’t in the last 4 years. Emma wanted us to consider our “ingredients” that might make up our personal brand.

The questions are hers, the answers are mine 🙂 and the funny thing is they still hold true (for the most part) today. I hope you take the time to answer these and think about your own “ingredients” and how you show up for life.

 

Your ingredients as a young child:

I loved playing pretend, also coming up with elaborate story-lines for play. I was an excellent listener and loved to read and write–never wanted anyone to feel bad

As a teen/young adult:

I was totally interested in the “why”* people did what they did, thought I was going to be a child psychologist. Also this is when we lived at Harmony** so my world was opened up to psychic phenomenon, spiritual awakening, positive thinking, etc. was sure I was a true gypsy***. Loved to act and dance! Loved the spotlight and applause 

In your working career:

Talented diffuser of bad situations, awesome customer service–internal and external. Got to know customers–a connector 

Your purpose: what is your purpose:

I really think it’s helping women feel better about themselves and teaching them an easier way to walk through life. Being the entrepreneur of your own life

Why do you do what you do:

I love women and want them to love themselves, I love to write and teach and to make people laugh

Why do you get out of bed in the morning:

Because it’s a new day! With all sorts of possibilities

Why should anyone care:

Because life will be better and more fun and more fulfilling if they do

Notes:

*I verbalized this “why”-ness until a high school friend snapped at me about always asking questions to them and others, after that, I kept it to myself. Which would explain why I liked this exercise 🙂

close up of woman working

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**Harmony Hills was a Center for Parapsychology…yup, I lived there with my mom for two years–I’ll write about this more.

*** I used the word “gypsy” because that is the word my grandfather used to describe himself, his family–he came to the U.S. from Yugoslavia as a 12 y.o. with his father.

Supporting oil: Inner Child

This oil can help you connect to your true/authentic self

Orange, Tangerine, Ylang ylang, Royal Hawaiian sandalwood, Jasmine, Lemongrass, Spruce, Bitter orange, and Neroli essential oils

Happiness Warrior

I’m pretty sure when people think of “happy” people they don’t necessarily see them as courageous or strong, and yet, more than likely, they are happy because they understand how not to be crushed under the weight of fear and adversity.

I remember being in a management class and we were talking about adversity and how to continue to be leaders even if our lives were not swell. And a woman turned to me and said, “What do you have to be stressed about?” And not in a nice, tell me your problems kind of way, but in an accusatory way–“what problems could you possibly have in your life?!” kind of way.

Granted, I displayed a happy face, I dressed nicely (come by that honestly–my mom was a Fashion Coordinator when I was growing up!), I spoke about ideas and not people, and I had a positive attitude. And, I guess, she thought if you looked “good” you’re life is good. And it was good, in a way. In a compartmentalized way, in a “I will not be crushed by this way.” Is that enough “ways” for you?

What she didn’t know, very few did, was my two grown children were both struggling with Heroin addictions. I mean, how does that even happen? Two children three years apart both addicted to Heroin. I was in a backward Universe. Filled with grief and guilt.

Which is to say–I had many things happen in my life before this, but this–the addiction was a new level of stress, grief, and worry. What the woman also didn’t know, was I had made a choice. A choice Not to Suffer. I was not in denial, I simply chose not to suffer while I supported my children in any way I could–suffering would do nothing to help them or the rest of our family. Our youngest was still in middle school and involved in lots of sports and activities, and although he knew, I didn’t let my grief affect his life.

This was over seven years ago, one child has been sober for almost that same amount of time, the other continues his winding road of recovery and relapse. My family has been through a hell of a year. And I still choose not to suffer. I don’t deny my feelings–well, maybe a little, there are times that I think if I let it out, if I start to cry, I may never stop.

And at the same time, I know I have so much to be happy and grateful for! My daughter is doing so well–amazing, she’s my hero and her daughter (my granddaughter is 13! And my delight) is amazing as well. Our youngest is a wonderful human being and cracks me up (actually all my kids do) my husband and I are true partners…I could go on and on.

It all is a decision, right? A decision to not suffer, a decision to remember the good things, while not ignoring the problems–you can handle the problems so much easier when you are not in the suffering vortex, other decisions (besides not suffering) are clearer. And when I wasn’t suffering I could love and show my love (and my boundaries) to my kids who were.

I started writing this post so long ago…and hesitated posting it, it’s not really right, or where I want it to be, but I want it out there for some reason–I hope this helps in some small way.

 

Is it a Good Thing When the Possibilities Are Endless?

adult adventure beautiful climb

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When someone says, “The possibilities are endless,” we often think of this as the most positive thing in the world! But if the possibilities are truly endless, how can we be sure we’re concentrating on the right one? If you fall into this possibilities hole–and I have, many times, got the skinned knees to prove it–what happens?

Not a damn thing. There is no acting on any possibility.

So, what to do?

Talk to someone–preferably someone you know and not a random person on the street–someone who understands your strengths and personality. List out all the possibilities that truly excite you then listen to what the person has to say.

I know it can be so hard to move from the “possible lane” to “act upon lane.” you feel as if you’re leaving all the untapped possibles behind. My precious babies! Try to remember you’re not saying, “No” to something, you’re saying “Not now.”

They have to wait their turn.

Once you’ve decided on your thing write out the first 3-5 steps you need to take to get this idea going. Do you have the capacity? Does it still call to you? The great thing about this step is when/if you are ready to start this idea, you have the steps drafted out for you ahead of time!

Say one of my possibilities is:

Write a Teen Paranormal Best Seller 😉

  1. Brainstorm ideas
  2. Character Bios
  3. Write Outline/Synopsis (whatever cruel thing)
  4. Write 1st draft (it might be good to schedule this part, 30 minutes every evening…)
  5. Re-write, re-write, re-write

There are more steps, but this gives you an idea

Typically there might be a learning component in your steps, if I’d never written before one of my first steps might be to take a class, or read a few books on writing, or join a writers’ group. I want to know what would be the best option for publishing: traditional, self, something in-between. That’s farther down the list. I need to write the book first.

Please don’t get ahead of yourself, when you get ahead of yourself you invite in overwhelm.

*knock, knock…

who is it?

…errrr Candy Gram.

Oh, come in!

JUST KIDDING, ITS OVERWHELM!!!!!!

o_O

When I’ve made a decision to move forward on one thing aaaand something else keeps trying to get my attention write it down and put it in a file marked: LATER. I like physical files, but lately One Note has my attention: all the things in one place!

It allows you to have a Notebook, and withing the notebook, folders each folder can have, I think, infinity pages. You could have a file: LATER, page——>Agents, page——>Marketing, page——>Award speech

You get the idea…

Do you have more than one idea you’re toying with? Want help narrowing it down? Let me know in the comments below and maybe I can be a sounding board.

Supporting oil: Fulfill Your Destiny from the Young Living website:

…this proprietary blend will help you create an atmosphere of focus and clarity no matter where your path to fulfilling your destiny takes you.

 

LOVE BRAVELY

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I was invited to a Bridal Shower. I had the gifts and the card, all I needed was something other than last years Christmas wrapping aka a gift bag.

Have I ever told you how I hate to spend too much on things that might get thrown away? Like 7.99 on a birthday card…I don’t think so, I’d rather throw in another mini Lego set, thank you very much. Well the same goes for gift bags–I mean, I re-purpose and reuse, but what if you don’t?

So, I’m in Target looking for a gift bag that’s just right and won’t cost an arm or a leg…nothin’.

But then I saw this one bag with perfect colors and the size was right…okay, also, it was on sale.

“Live Bravely”

Yes! Live Bravely is a good command, or, you know, suggestion, maybe not the best slogan for a bridal shower–and suddenly, I knew what I would do (you probably do to if you looked at the photo :))

I would change “live” to “love” because, let’s face it, you have to be pretty fricken brave to love someone, especially with the “till death do you part” business thrown in. Yet, if you go into it knowing you should LOVE bravely, well, that puts a whole new spin on relationships, yes?

Loving bravely is all about truth

And vulnerability (yes, it is)

And accepting your significant other’s truth and vulnerabilty

Showing ourselves can be scary, and accepting someone else’s truth and vulnerability is not exactly for the faint of heart. No, it is for the brave of heart. ❤ ❤ ❤

What’s a Fox to God?

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I was taking a walk and thinking about all the things I was doing and wondering if I was on the right path, and as I walked I said, “Okay God, show me a sign that I’m on the right path…show me a fox on my walk.”

And then I immediately said to myself, you can’t ask for that! Simultaneously thinking: if you ask for that kind of sign you won’t get it, because it’s too much, ask for a smaller sign. Who do you think you are asking for a sign?

And then I literally stopped in my walking tracks.

Because, what’s a fox to God? And I didn’t mean a fox means nothing to God, I meant if God wanted a fox to appear–a fox would appear.

With renewed confidence–in any outcome, ’cause if God didn’t want a fox to appear then no fox was showing its cute pointy face–I continued my walk.

I always walk to Haeg Park, it has a circle of wizened Oak trees at the top of a hill–like a flippin’ circle of wisdom. I love to go up to the trees and place my palm on them, giving and receiving energy. Anywho…I get to the park, climb to the top of the hill, and look down to the lake and there’s a fox. A fox, fast trotting at the bottom of the hill.

And once again, I stop. And the fox stops too–looks at me and then continues on its fox way.

Well. There it was. A veritable sign. Aaaand now I had to live up to it.

If you are going to ask for something, you have to be all in, it can’t be a half-assed ask, it needs to be a full-assed ask. And then once you ask, you have to accept the answer–especially if its in your favor. I asked for a sign to tell me if I was on the right path–I got the sign and now it was up to commit to it.

A fox to God is nothing and everything.

You have to first believe in the possibility of the sign to see the sign, or as Wayne Dyer so eloquently said it: You have to believe it to see it.

 

The Funny Thing About Problems…and what to do about them

I accidentally drove past my childhood home this past weekend and it was tiiiiiiiny! I mean it was a normal sized house, just not the size I remember. And the vast side yard? A quarter of the size I remember. There were still pine trees in the front yard but the lower branches had been cut and you could see the house–the small house–from the street.

What was this?

The busy wide street that went around the lake at the end of our street wasn’t busy or wide–no wonder my mom and dad let me cross it and ride my bike on it!

All this got my thinking about problems (hang in there with me) and how we carry them around with us. And with all their aspects and complexities they can seem daunting and gnarly and BIG.

But, what if they are all just childhood homes and if you could get a “grown-up” perspective you’d see they are not insurmountable. To be clear, I am not talking about health (disease, addictions, or the loss of a loved one). I’m talking about work or coworker problems, stuck in traffic, I hate change problems. Those day to day (and some not so day to day) problems that we build into oversize childhood houses (childmansions). I bet even if you grew up in a mansion and then moved away (as a child) it’s not as big as you remember. I feel like the only time this wouldn’t work is if you continue living in your childhood home–it and you continually right-size each other.

So. How to get that “grown-up” perspective:

First: Recognize that your problem may not be as big (or as bad) as you first thought. A great way to do this is to ask yourself a question: Is this as big as I think it is? Just asking the question gets you out of stuck mode and readies your brain for something different.

Second: Take your problem out for a viewing, this will give you a different perspective–you can’t just continue to hold it and turn it over and over, it wasn’t until I drove past the house and saw it that I realized its actual size.

  • So, get it down on paper–yup, work–writing something down helps. Words on the page can create new pathways in your brain. Maybe you’ll see something you hadn’t before.
  • Talk to someone, not someone who’s heard you complain about it, or worse yet shares in your complaint, you’ll only end up in a bitch session with no forward motion! Lay it out with: I’m wondering if I can talk to you about something I’m trying to get a new perspective on?

Third: List one or two small things you could do immediately to feel better. Maybe its redirecting, so, if you’re always triggered by a coworker (or your boss) prepare for it, tell yourself they may say something that sets you off, but you are in control of how you react. Ask to talk (if your problem is with a person) to them without blame. NO: you always do this. YES: It makes me feel or I feel.

I hope this helps you deal a little easier with something or someone.

An (in)Elegant Life

How often do you feel like a 7 year old? Let me be more specific, how often do you live with the metaphorical feeling of your socks balled up in your shoes just living with the uncomfortableness of it?

How often do we live in the uncomfortableness of a situation? Job? Relationship?

It’s okay, you are not alone, far from it, I have been uncomfortable for years on end–but thought it was my “duty” to be there in that vat of uncomfort.

{{{Aside: I make up words, just so you know, “uncomfortableness” and “uncomfort” are not realio-trulio words. But I like them.}}}

At times I blamed it on my sense of “worthiness” or lack there of! But lately I think its fear–fear of pain, fear of unknown, fear of being better.

But I truly believe the most common reason is it seems far less uncomfortable than extricating ourselves from said situation, maybe it would feel embarrassing or even painful. The payment seems too dear for the payout.

In the short term.

We think it will be worse, and yes, it might suck…for a little while, it might be messy…to begin with, you might not know exactly what to do…until you do, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera (as my, slightly older than 7 year old, crush Yul Brinner said in The King and I).

And then it will start to feel a little better. And better begets better. It’s a law, and an equation, possibly a mandate. Trust me on this.

Are you willing to share when uncomfort became too much?