A New Year, A New Beginning

For the past few years on New Year's Eve, I couldn't wait for the year to be over. They were years of struggle and challenge, lawsuits and deaths and restraining orders and floods and exploding plumbing disasters. But in these years, there have also been miracles. Every tragedy gave me the opportunity to grow my compassion. Every challenge allowed me to work my courage muscles. And for all the times I was stuck, I had to work hard to strengthen my wings- and that's a good thing. Maya Angelou used to say, when you are in trouble, say thank you, because there is already a rainbow behind the clouds. Just because you can't see it yet, doesn't mean it isn't there.

I don't mean to sound Pollyanna-ish. I don't love getting older, but I'm grateful that I'm wiser, and especially grateful that I'm healthy. I didn't love being betrayed and getting fired from my job this June, but I am so grateful now to have a much better job. I hate that my sister-cousin Tammey died, but I am grateful that I got to share so much of my life with her, and that I still get to love her and remember her and share my memories of her with everyone.

In writing FIRE SEASON, I could see clearly on the pages that when I looked at my life with gratitude rather than regret, everything changed.

I am grateful for everything this year. Grateful for learning, growing, new experiences, my husband and children, my amazing friends, this beautiful world that I got to explore. 

 What were you most grateful for this year?

What I Learned From My Two-Month Internet Break

This summer, after years of both working in social media and having active personal accounts on Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest, a spate of ugly events caused me to shut down my computer and walk away. I didn’t plan this, nor did I have any idea if I would ever open it again. My computer remained shut for two months.

At first, I walked around in a daze, unsure of where I fit or what I was supposed to be doing. I scrubbed my counters. I completely re-landscaped my front yard. I tried writing with pen and paper but it felt weird and I was too upset by aforementioned events to write anyway. I decided that if I didn’t know where I should be, then I would just ‘be.” I walked my neighborhood in the quiet of the early mornings. I meditated. If I arrived early to an appointment, I did nothing but observe my surroundings, while the people around me sat with hunched shoulders, heads slumped forward like human question marks, their eyes focused on their phones and the postage stamp-sized world inside. I watched them plummet down the rabbit hole, completely tuning out to the here and now. I doubt any of them even knew I was in the room. I felt like a sober girl at the cocktail party of life.

After a few weeks, I could feel I was changing. I noticed that gradually my posture improved because my head was above my shoulders where it belonged. I was aware and engaged with my kids, not distracted. They, in turn, behaved better, and I had a level of patience I had forgotten I was capable of. I was experiencing a strange, unfamiliar feeling. Some might call it calm. While driving, I no longer checked my email at every stoplight. Instead I watched the characters that walked past; Two homeless men sharing a meal in a fort they had built under a shopping cart. A hispanic woman with a significant limp who crossed the street every morning at 7:42 am. The veteran in a wheelchair with the American flag mounted on the back, pledging his allegiance to the country for which he sacrificed his legs. I had been missing all of this for so long. For anyone to miss this is a shame, but for a writer, it is practically a crime.

I stole away with my family for a weekend in Idyllwild where I sat in a hammock and read books, or sometimes just watched the leaves shimmer in the breeze. I noticed things, like the way color and light changes within a flickering moment. I noticed the life buzzing right in my own front yard – for instance, I now know that Monarch butterflies do not welcome Painted Zebras into their habitat, and squirrels rub the sides of their faces against the rough pine bark to get sap off their whiskers. Suddenly I understood that I was living in an ordered Universe, and this made me feel safe and at peace. This also felt more important to me than anything I had read on Facebook.

I’m not knocking social media. I have met wonderful people and had incredible opportunities come my way through it, not to mention that working as a social media manager is what has paid my bills for the majority of this year. I’m grateful for it, while also having a new awareness of the dire need for balance.

I came back slowly to social media, and saw that nothing had changed while I was gone. The same problems and arguments raged on, just like they did before. I noticed right away how my brain waves changed when I engaged online. I became more irritable, easily distracted, my thoughts scattered. At the same time I was happy to be re-connected to the beautiful community I’ve found online.

My new challenge is to remain mindful of the time I allot for checking in with friends and colleagues, to focus on and share positive posts, and then to shut the computer and check back in with the world around me: to feel my feet on the floor, take in the sights around me, notice my breath. Like waking from a dream, re-entry into the real world takes a minute, but I’ve rediscovered that the world outside is a glorious place. I’m also reacquainting myself with my world inside – and that is where the real fun begins.

Here is an interesting article author Dani Shapiro just wrote in the New York Times about our reliance on social media: http://www.newyorker.com/culture/cultural-comment/memoir-status-update

Elevate

When I got fired from my job in June, it pretty much knocked me flat. Not only had this been a job, it had been a calling. Add to that the betrayal by people I'd thought were my friends.

My true friends rushed in to lift me, like emotional EMTs.

Amy said, “You haven’t lost anything. I know you will find the medicine in this poison.”

Dani said, "You’ll get through this, and I will help you.”

Erin said, “Fuck them. I’ll be right over with wine and take-out,” which at the time were my favorite words.

My facebook inbox lit up like a Christmas tree as my friends across the country got wind of the news. They said, “We love you. We’ve got your back. Nothing can erase all the good work you did.”

A few days later I talked with my friend Julie, and she said, “They haven’t knocked you down. They have elevated you.”

“Elevated me? How?”

“Because I know you. You will find the good in it. You’ll write about it, and you’ll share your story with others. In the end you will be stronger because of it. You will rise above this, and that’s how they have elevated you.”

Of course, I hadn’t thought of it like that.

Author and spiritual teacher Marianne Williamson says that when someone deflects a miracle from you, when they block goodness that is meant for you, the Universe will hold the miracle in trust, and will find another way to make sure you receive it. It may come from another person or a different job, or another door will open that you never knew existed.

In other words, when someone tries to knock you down, you should really thank them for teaching you courage and strength, and also for teaching you who you don’t want to be, because in the meantime, all the good things that are your due are still on their way.

No one can really ever take anything from you. It’s up to each of us to lay down in defeat, or to elevate.

I choose to elevate.

The 5 Things I Gained From Losing Everything...

(This story was posted on "Maria Shriver's Architects of Change."  It is excerpted from my new memoir "Fire Season: Losing Everything and Finding Myself." With deep gratitude...)

On the morning of November 18th, 1994, my family seemingly had it all: a strong marriage, two kids and a gaggle of rescue pets. My husband Troy and I each had our own businesses that we ran from the home we were renting. We volunteered at our kids’ schools, threw parties, took business trips — it was a great life.

But that night, we went to bed in a burning house. A freak electrical short began smoldering in the walls as we slept, erupting into hellfire in the middle of the night. The fire pressed us up against the windows, gasping for air, our skin burning. We were forced to jump from second story ledges with our children, onto the cement below. The inferno raged, windows blowing out, as the life we had built vanished before our eyes....(read the rest HERE on Maria Shriver's website)


Watch an excerpt of my live interview on AOL.com:

Also on "Maria Shriver's Architects of Change", read Amy Ferris and my co-authored piece "Letting Go of Shame, Thelma and Louise Style"

We Are Stardust

Last week I had “one of those days.” You know the kind, where everything is going wrong and everyone is on your last nerve. Work was stressful, my kids were fighting, even my cats were fighting. Before I blew a gasket, I packed the kids in the car and headed off for yoga, breathing in and out, counting to ten.

I ran in and laid my yoga mat down, then rushed my warring boys off to kid-care in the gym. I returned just in time to see one of my fellow yogis literally pick my yoga mat up and toss it to the side, as she preceded to take my space.

WTF?

Breathing… I asked another woman who saw this if she would mind moving up about 6 inches so I could have someplace to put my mat. She said no. She needed all of the space she was occupying and all the space surrounding it.

Thus began my inner rant – dividing myself from “those people” – the ones who don’t get what yoga is all about. “Those people” I assured myself, “are ruining my experience, and my whole Saturday!”

I wanted to see myself as separate from these defensive, space-grubbing narcissists. But then I remembered that we are connnected…

Joni Mitchell sang it 40 years ago, “We are stardust…we are golden…”

This is not just some hippie-dippie statement full of moonbeams. There is actually some real science behind it.

Astrophysicist Neil de Grasse Tyson explains it this way:

“The atoms of our bodies are traceable to stars that manufactured them in their cores and exploded these enriched ingredients across our galaxy, billions of years ago. For this reason, we are biologically connected to every other living thing in the world. We are chemically connected to all molecules on Earth. And we are atomically connected to all atoms in the universe. We are not figuratively, but literally, stardust.”

In other words, I am connected to every person in this Universe, even the ones I don’t like. They way that I respond to others will affect me just as much (if not more) than it affects them.

So I breathed, and calmed myself and found another space to occupy.

People may have horrible manners and display sefishness, but we are connected. They are, we are, I am connected to everything in the universe, and made of the very same matter. Whether I like it or not.

And just when I want to struggle against the fact that this is true, here’s something else Tyson says, “The good thing about science is that it's true whether or not you believe in it. ”

Reclaiming Joy III: Gratitude

“A miracle is a shift in perception.” – Marianne Williamson

In my last post, I talked about the scientific fact that nature abhors a vacuum, and that when you release negative energy from your life, something else will rush in to fill that space. And wow oh wow has that proven to be true in my life.

After my negativity fast, I made gratitude the centerpiece of my "reclaiming joy" experiment. At night, I journal about the moments I was grateful for that day. As a result, what happens is I am always looking for things to record - and that in itself brings me into the present moment. There are so many tiny moments that I would have missed if I was caught up in my head, only focused on my problems - like the kids playing and laughing together, a rare bird on my deck, a smile from a stranger. Suddenly the world seems full of things to be grateful for simply because I am awake. I am feeling a shift inside. Marianne Williamson would call that a miracle.

But an even deeper proof was yet to come.

With this new, lighter, positive heart, I believe a space was created for the Universe to meet me where I am. And here’s what happened:

Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth … that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too.

-W.H. Murray

Sunday, as I was getting ready to perform at the Veteran’s hospital (another way to immediately feel happy- do something kind for someone else) I got a random email. This woman said she was a segment producer for Huffington Post Live, and she had read my blog and wanted to know if I would be on the show the next day. What?

I called and asked how she found me. She said, “We are doing a show on the nature of suffering, and Nancy (the host) asked me to find someone who had lost everything and was still grateful. So I googled, “How I Lost Everything and Why I’m Grateful” and there you were.” I was floored. She googled the EXACT title of the blog I’d posted on the anniversary of my fire last year. Coincidence? Or Providence?

The next day, a little online interview that I thought three people would see, got picked up by AOL’s Top Stories, breathing life into this book (Wind To Wildfire) I’ve been trying to midwife into the world for over a year now. 

If this isn’t evidence that this reclaiming joy stuff is working, I don’t know what is.

The Path to Gratitude

There have been times in my life where I have been so low, I could not think of a single thing to be grateful for. But now, when I sink to that dark place, this is a little game I play with myself. I call it the Castaway Game.

I pick up my pen and paper, then imagine myself stranded on a desert island with no food, and nothing but a volleyball named Wilson to love. And then I start to write all the things I would pine for. Suddenly, every person in my life, every circumstance, becomes a blessing. Even the garbage truck with his noisy clanging while I’m meditating, the annoying dog that barks all day- even those things. Suddenly I become aware of the great cup of coffee I’m drinking and the fresh fruit on my table and I feel so damn lucky.

So if you’re ever feeling down on your luck, try this game. Put yourself on that island with Wilson and let the words fly.  And then... see if the shift in perception becomes your very own miracle. 

Here is a short excerpt from the Huffington Post Live interview, where I talk about what I learned from losing everything. 

 

Reclaiming Joy, Part 2

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Letting Go of What Doesn’t Serve Me:

Recently I read a story about a nun who had prayed every day for 30 years for God to take away a lifelong problem she’d had. Finally, one morning as she was praying once again, she heard a gentle voice in her head- I can’t take it unless you give it up.

Give It Up:

I can’t get rid of any problem that I’m not willing to release. Most of us hold tight to our grudges, our worries, our problems, our conflicts. On some level, we are addicted to them. I used to have a strange subconscious (deeply subconscious) belief that worrying about my kids would keep them safe, like some kind of bass-akwards prayer. But now I know that worry is like praying for something I don’t want. Unless we are in this moment hanging from a cliff by our fingernails, our problems aren’t really problems anyway. Most of our “problems” are created in our mind, where we are fixated on something in the past, or worried about something that might possibly (but probably not) happen in the future. How do worry and negativity serve my life? How does anger, judgment or resentment make any situation better? Those emotions are like uninvited guests who live rent-free in my head.

In order to reclaim joy, I have to create space for it – I have to kick those Randy Quaid-like uninvited guests to the curb.

It’s Science:

Science has proven that nature abhors a vacuum, and that everything in the Universe is made of energy, including you and I. So when I release negative energy from my life, there is a vacuum that pulls something new and positive in.

Time and again I have seen proof that this works, and yet it’s so easy to slip back into old habits. So once again I’ve made a conscious choice to release negativity, worry, fear, insecurity and feelings of worthlessness. Already I’ve felt the immediate benefits of being more centered and calm. But life will always throw a few challenges. For instance, yesterday my phone line went out and my computer broke down. I had to cancel a conference call and lost a whole day of work.  It took 3 and 1/2 hours at the Mac store to get my computer fixed. Needless to say this was not the day I had planned. Usually, I would be really upset, but what purpose would that serve? I decided to release being upset and be at peace with the situation I was given. When I released the negative emotion, some wonderful blessings flowed in to fill that space. Instead of working, I was able to go hiking in the beautiful mountains, spend time with friends and have some really inspiring and uplifting conversations. It turned out to be a great day.

Letting Go:

This is my favorite one-minute meditation. I close my eyes and slow my breathing, listening to the rhythm of my breath, accepting all the background noises as part of my natural surroundings. Then, I let go of all my problems for one second. In that one instantaneous moment, I feel a shift. This is the most transformative one-minute meditation, and anyone can do it. I did it this morning and feel like I just had a mini-vacation. 

Go on, try it. Let your worries go for one second.  Just one second. See if your mind allows you to do it. (Don’t worry, they’ll still be there after the second has passed.)

If you are resistant to trying this one-second experiment, ask yourself why? Are you hesitant to let go of your problems and let joy occupy that space?

If you tried it, please comment below and let me know how it felt. I'd love to hear!

*For more on this, read my blog: What I'm Giving Up
 

Reclaiming Joy, Part One

 

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"We can not solve our problems with the same level of thinking that created them"

-Albert Einstein

For months now, I have been in a funk. And then I got sick of it. This is how it started.

All year I had been looking forward to summer. I was going to be teaching workshops in Costa Rica (at a five-star resort in the rainforest), Woodstock and Berkley, and my husband and I had been gifted a free trip to Jamaica for our anniversary in August. I was giddy with anticipation.

And then every one of those events cancelled…boom boom boom. And on top of the profound disappointment, I was scrambling to replace the work and income I’d lost. I sent out resumes all summer and didn’t get a single reply. Instead of teaching and lounging in hot tubs in exotic places, my summer days were spent mediating fights between my 3 and 7 year old, scouring the want ads unsuccessfully for writing gigs, playing “bill-roulette” and feeling completely defeated. And then I got a string of rejection letters on my new book. And my dishwasher broke and I didn’t have the money to fix it, so I was up to my elbows every day washing dishes by hand. And the worst of it, people I loved were fighting cancer and I was helpless to stop it. All of this in 105 degree weather.

It turned out to be a crummy summer and I was miserable. But I know that happiness is a choice. I had to stop focusing on all that had gone wrong and change the way I was thinking.

The first thing I had to do was to unplug from all negativity. On top of the frustration and helplessness I was already feeling, I sure didn’t need bad news pounded into my head.

I unplugged from the internet except to check in once a day- I did not read the facebook newsfeed or look at pictures of abused dogs in shelters or read about toddlers accidentally being shot with their fathers’ guns.

I turned off NPR (the hardest thing to do) because sometimes you just have to take a break from hearing about body counts and wars all over the world.

I didn’t allow anyone else’s negativity come into to my sacred space.

I played music all day, every day.

I read uplifting books that made me feel anything was possible.

I prayed for my loved ones, meditated and practiced yoga.

I got outside in nature every day, even if for a short time. 

It didn't cost me a dime to walk by the bay, but it was more valuable than therapy.

And for the first time in months, I FELT GREAT. I was happy and energized again. I was more patient with the kids. More patient with myself. More confident that somehow everything would be okay.

Once I was back in this positive space, things started to flow again. I got offered four gigs, plus a copywriting job. I was able to heal a friendship that had been fractured for five years. Two agents asked for my manuscript. My loved ones were managing and maybe even healing cancer.

I am now thinking more clearly, feeling hopeful. Everything once again feels possible.

So I have decided to continue with this. For the next couple weeks, I am going to write about the steps I’m taking to reclaim joy. I hope you’ll join me on this journey.

You are Rich- and Here's Why

 

After sending out over 200 resumes and getting no response, in a moment of quiet desperation, a young woman named Vicki Harrison ended her life. I was devastated to read about this poor girl's tragic end, and yet, I could empathize. I too have been sending resumes out for three years, and have not gotten one response. I’ve owned a national company, have run 2 nonprofits, spent ten years teaching arts workshops, published a book, and yet, I can’t get a job. My husband’s income alone is supporting our family of five. Insurance is nearly capsizing us (health, car, homeowners, fire, flood, life). There are many days I feel overwhelmed and hopeless.

But what I remind myself every day, and wish I could have told young Vicki, is that in comparison to the rest of the world, we are incredibly wealthy and blessed. It's only our perspective that is lacking.

Living in America or any westernized country, its easy to get caught up in that keeping-up-with-the-Joneses thing. We are blasted with advertising every second of the day, subtly persuaded to believe that we are not enough without that car, that flat screen TV, that newest model of iPhone/computer/iPad, anti-aging-anti-cellulite-anti-everything cream…You're not enough, not enough, not enough. You don't have enough: food, things, money...

Here’s the thing. All of this is an illusion. Step out of westernized thinking and culture for a minute, and consider the way the rest of the world lives. Here's why you and I are some of the richest people in the world:

Do you own a car? If so, consider yourself one of the elite. Less than 9% of the world owns a car.

Do you own a computer? Have internet access? Only 22% of world population has access to the internet, and many of those do not personally own a computer.

Do you have running water? More than one billion people globally lack access to safe drinking water.

Let’s bring it back to just America:

Do you make $33,000 or more annually? If so, you are in the top 50% of wage earners in the United States. According to the Census Bureau, the median income for an American family of three is a total 52K.

14% of Americans are living below poverty level- an income of less than $22,000 for a family of four. (Globally,  2.8 billion people survive on less than $2 a day)

So take heart, and count your blessings. Yes, we’re in a recession. Yes, it is really, really hard to find a job. And yes, many of us are making less now that we did in previous years. But in the eyes of most people in this world, we are rich beyond their wildest imaginings. 

Any of these people would love to trade places with us.

A perspective of lack and hopelessness ended Vicki Harrison's life. She had enough to live on, and family and friends to support her. Eventually, she would have found a job -- in fact, it could have been resume #201.

For more perspective, here's a great article:

Why You're Not Actually Poor

and: WorldWatch.org

What I'm Giving Up

When I feel stuck in life, sometimes the simple act of letting go of old things, cleaning out a desk drawer, my closet, or my purse (which is a cry for help right now) can provide a feeling of relief. It seems to magically create a vacuum in my life, making room for new possibilities. But emotional clutter is another issue. 

All the self-help books tell us that the past does not define the future, the wake does not drive the boat, etc. But most of us hold on to things from the past, which keeps us rooted there. We don’t open that “drawer in our head” often enough, and soon we’ve got a jumbled head full of old beliefs and stories that no longer serve us. Or maybe that’s just me. Just like my closet, I need to do an inner purge now and then.

In order to make room for peace, harmony, and balance in my life, these are the things I’m giving up:

Resentment

If I’m feeling resentment, this means I’ve taken on too much, haven’t set limits or healthy boundaries, and now I’m frustrated with a situation I helped create. I can either accept the situation I’ve chosen and find gratitude for it, or I can change it and choose something different. I am gladly giving up resentment, and making room for gratitude.

My Old Story

I grew up the daughter of a convict and a single mom who worked nights in a bar, we used food stamps to buy our groceries and blah, blah, blah. I’ve already lived that story. It held me down long enough. I wrote the memoir. Wrote the essays. The story is over. I don’t want, nor need, to live it any longer. Buh-bye old story. I’m making room for a new story.

Feelings of Worthlessness

Those are going out along with the old story. Period.

I’m making room to step into my full value as a human being.

Shame

Co-authoring Dancing at the Shame Prom changed me in so many positive ways. It really helped me to shed a lot of that old shame. But shame is sneaky. It finds new and different ways to lurk into my psyche: money-shame, aging-shame, body-image shame. Once again, I'm kicking it to the curb, making room for self-acceptance.

Struggle

I have struggled a lot in my life. I’ve struggled financially. I’ve struggled for justice. I’ve struggled in family relationships. But recently, while teaching my son how to swim, I learned something. He was struggling in the water, exerting so much energy while going nowhere, eventually sinking. I kept telling him, “Just relax and let your body float. The water will support you.” And bingo- I made the connection. Stop struggling and float. Let the Universe support me. I’m letting go of struggle to make room for peace.

Writing helps a lot with emotional purging, which is why I’ve always kept a journal. But when writing it out isn’t enough, I pray. I pray for help in letting old beliefs go. Whether I believe in God (I do) or religion (not so much) doesn’t really matter. Words and intention hold great power. Simply stating that I want to give something up (on a daily basis) has changed me greatly.

I’m making room in my life for love, goodness, miracles, joy, and passion.

What are you willing to give up today? What are you making room for? I’d love to hear about it. 

 

Imagine the possibilities...

What We Can Learn From a 7 Year Old

Sophia paints Evan's face

Yesterday, my neighbor Lorie pulled me aside and asked if my son Evan had told me about the bench.

“No, what bench?” I asked.

“The bench in front of my house that he broke,” she replied.

Uh-oh, I thought.

She continued, “Evan knocked on my door and he said ‘Miss Lorie,  I was riding my scooter too fast and I couldn’t stop in time,” He pointed to the bench in front of her house, “and …I crashed into your bench and broke it. I’m sorry.”

At that moment, she said, his little friend Sophia piped in, “That’s called integrity.”

Lorie was so tickled by the two of them that she wasn't mad at all.

Today, Troy took Evan next door to teach him how to fix a bench.

Integrity is something taught in Evan and Sophia’s second grade class, and yet it’s rare to find that quality in adults.

Ghandi famously said, “Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.” If that is true, then integrity equals happiness.

Living without integrity may very well be that the reason happiness eludes so many of us.

Are you living with integrity?

Do you take responsibility for your own actions?

Are you impeccable with your word, both to others and yourself?

Do you make promises (to yourself and others) that you don’t keep?

Do you gossip and talk bad about others (but smile to their face)?

Do you blame others for your unhappiness?

If you want to be happy, try taking a lesson from a seven year old. As Sophia said- it’s called integrity.

So simple...it's child's play.

Evan and Sophia with Snowcone tongues

One Small Step

This is a blog about achieving a big dream one small step at a time, a philosophy I owe to an interview I read with author John Berendt.  Berendt’s novel, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, was originally turned down by his agent. She said it was too localized (Savannah, Georgia), that no one would ever read it. Undaunted, he found another agent who loved the book and sold it with ease. Problem was, no one was buying it. So he committed to doing one thing every day to promote his book. One thing every day adds up to 365 actions in a year. Midnight eventually sold more than 2.7 million hardcovers, was on the New York Times best-seller list for four years, and was made into a film, making Berendt a rich man.

Moral of the story: Persistence + small simple steps = Success.

I was so inspired by John’s story, as Amy and I are facing a similar uphill struggle with our book, Dancing at the Shame Prom. The publishing industry ain’t what it used to be. Authors are handed their shiny new books, placed on an iceberg and floated off into the deep arctic waters of self- marketing. We’re overwhelmed, to say the least. But one thing every day? That’s something we can do. So Amy and I made a pact to each do one thing every day to promote our book, adding up to over 700 actions in a year. Not bad. And we're keeping each other accountable by emailing what our one thing is each day.

But this method isn’t just for books. It can be applied toward any goal.

For instance, I feel overwhelmed by clutter, and dream of being better organized. So, I started with one pile of mail on my desk. The next day, my jewelry box. The next, the sock drawer. Next up - my purse.  Small actions. 365 actions in a year.

I also want to lose weight. I can make one choice every day toward better health. Take the stairs instead of the elevator. Skip the second glass of wine and have a sparkling water. Do sit ups while I watch TV.  Just one change a day. 365 actions toward weight loss in a year.

Here are some more ideas.

Say you want to write? Write one page every day. 365 pages in a year. Sounds like a book to me.

You want inner peace? One action a day: Take a walk, meditate for five minutes, pray, write in a journal, call a friend. 365 actions more peaceful by the end of the year.

You want to find love? Do one loving thing every day. For yourself. For others. For the world. 365 acts of love can only create a love avalanche.

Anyway, you get the idea. By breaking a dream down into small simple steps, anything can be achieved.And it helps to have a partner to be accountable to, because it's easy to forget small simple things.

Let’s all choose one important goal, take a small step toward it today, and see what happens.

PS…

John Berendt’s very kind words about our book, Dancing at the Shame Prom:

"These are startlingly honest stories of deep-down, lingering hurt, bravely and eloquently told. Once you start reading you can't stop. The effect is oddly cleansing."

- John Berendt

 

Reasons and Seasons and a lifetime of lessons.

There’s a saying that people come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. I’ve found that to be true. I’ve also found that every single person has come to teach me something.

My lifetime friends are the ones I can be my whole unedited self with, knowing that I will be loved and accepted. Our friendships are honest, and have withstood disagreements, tragedies, weddings, divorces, babies, deaths and the colossal ups and downs of life. From them I have learned the true meaning of unconditional love.

Some friends have come and gone, and from them, I learned that you can’t hold love with a tight grip, but only with an open hand.

Some friends are far away, but never stray from my heart. From them I learned that real love is timeless and can sustain long distance and periods of silence. (Diane- 28 years)

Some friends come into your life exactly when you need them. From them I've learned that prayers are answered.

Some friends turned out not to be friends.  From them I learned how to value myself.

Some friends stood by me when I was down, but resented me when I had success. From them I learned the importance of celebrating others’ victories.

Some were not happy to see me grow and change. From them I learned how to stand for myself.

Some were just plain mean and vindictive, and from them I learned the importance of boundaries, and releasing negativity from my heart.

Not one person has come or gone from my life without adding value to me as a person, so I can honestly say that every relationship has been a blessing. I have no regrets...even the bad ones were good once. I try to hold on to the happy memories of relationships gone bad, but most importantly I strive to learn the lesson that it held for me.

Who have been the blessings in your life - both good and bad?

Calm in the Center of the Storm

Last week was a tumultuous one. A lot of dust kicked up in the Universe on so many levels, all of it coming at me like a firehose in the face. A friend asked me why I seemed so calm in the middle of it all (reiterate: seemed) , and I’ve really given that some thought. I felt like I was walking a tightrope, trying to breathe and find my center the whole time, and though I stayed calm, it wore me out. 

For the past twenty years, I’ve been on a long journey of healing my spirit. I’ve been through three therapists, workshops, seminars with Wayne Dyer, Deepak Chopra, Julia Cameron, healing through life story writing, intuitive healers, medical healers, and of course I have a closet full of self help books- three shelves piled high. I’ve read them all cover to cover, some of them twice. Through this journey, this is what I’ve learned.

Trust.

If I don’t trust myself, I’ll never trust anyone else.

Love.

When I don’t love myself, I’m not able to fully love anyone else.

Betrayal.

If I betray myself by not living true to who I am, I have betrayed others by presenting a false self.

Blame.

If deep inside I blame myself, I’ll catch myself projecting that blame onto others.

Judgment.

When I judge myself, I will end up judging others.

Patience.

When I am impatient, critical and demanding with myself, I’ll be the same with others.

Forgiveness.

When I haven’t forgiven myself, I’ll find it hard to forgive others.

So when I find myself in a place where I am not trusting, not loving, not being true to my heart, blaming others, judging others…That’s not anyone else’s problem. The only way to heal that is within me. I start by forgiving myself for being human, and reminding myself that we are all carrying the same demons. No one is on this Earth with the intent to bring me down. We are all doing the best we can in this school of life, and each of us is carrying a burden.

I remind myself to be kind and patient with others, starting with me.

The quote I’ve kept on my wall for this two-decade long journey is this:

“Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.”

-       Mahatma Ghandi

I have found this to be absolutely true. Living in that kind of integrity is the only thing that’s ever brought me peace. When I am unhappy, I know that one of the above tenets is out of alignment, and I work to center myself again.

It’s so simple, and yet so few of us live that way.

I put that quote where I can see it each day, and ask myself, am I living in spiritual alignment? When I am, I know it. I make better decisions, I trust myself, I’m not rocked off my center by what others say about me. I can retain my calm in the center of a storm. I feel at peace. When I am at peace, my family is at peace, and like ripples in a pond, it spreads outward.

Who says we can’t change the world? We can each start with ourselves.

I wish you all integrity…peace…happiness.

Have a wonderful week.

Judge not...or do. Whatevs.

“When you judge someone, you do not define them. 

You simply define yourself as someone who needs to judge.” 

– Wayne Dyer

We all make judgments every day; I like this, I don’t like that. I don’t like the way he drives. I like the way she dresses. We pick and choose what’s right for us from the judgments we make. But most people spend an inordinate amount of time talking about and judging others. (…aaand that’s why we love reality TV.)

I used to make judgments on my friends lives, because I was a “fixer”. I’d obsess over their missteps; “Why does so and so keep choosing the same abusive guy?” “Why is so and so spending money she doesn’t have? She’s going to end up in debt!” And then I’d set out to “fix” them. A lot of my sentences began with “What you should do is…” until one day a friend spoke up. “Let me make my own mistakes. I’ll deal with the consequences.” And I totally got it. It was her journey, and she’d find her own way, just as I had to find mine. Maybe she needed to be with the wrong guy to learn something about herself. Maybe she needed to go into debt to learn how to manage money. Who knew? It wasn’t my job to fix anyone but me. And it was time I switched my focus.

I spent the next decade in and out of therapy, doing yoga, meditating, reading, unraveling my past by writing a book. I was intent on fixing my own issues. I would still be a shoulder for my friends when they had a problem, but I listened, and put faith in them to solve their own problems.

In doing this long decade of inner work, I realized that none of us is perfect, and mistakes are a necessity in this school called life. I forgave myself for my flaws and my own missteps. I accepted myself as an imperfect human being in an imperfect world, and that’s when things began to shift inside of me.

When I stopped judging myself, I no longer felt the desire to judge others.

When I made peace with myself, I was at peace with others.

When I was happy with me, I didn’t need anyone else’s validation.

When judgment and criticism came, I no longer doubted myself, because I knew where my heart was centered.

The greatest thing about getting older is the wisdom and inner peace it can bring. When my heart is at peace, I like myself. It’s okay if others don’t like me. I like me.

I am careful with my words and judgments now. I certainly slip up more than I should, but I bring myself back to center by reminding myself of Maya Angelou’s wise words:

"A person’s speech is a mirror to her or his soul."

Every day I ask myself, What do my words say about me?

“Judge not, lest ye be judged.” That’s what the bible says. But even if I choose not to judge, others will most likely still judge me. But you know what? It’s none of my business what anyone thinks about me.

It’s not my job to prove to anyone who I am. My job is to be the best me I can be, and to keep myself centered in a positive place.

If I do that, my life will speak for itself.

Lessons Learned At A Funeral

I’ve been to more funerals in my life than I care to count. And I have sat bedside with critically ill friends at the ends of their lives. Although it has been painful, I consider this a privilege, for they have taught me valuable life lessons.

My dear friend of 25 years, Phyllis, was like a second mother to me. I loved her with all my heart, but she was a difficult woman. She was tall, strong, a force to be reckoned with, but she spent a lot of her life being offended by people. She was prickly and cantankerous. I’d had a few run-ins with her over the years, and she’d made me cry more than once, but always we came back to a place of love. The last time I saw Phyllis on her deathbed, all her hard edges had softened as she began to wither away. She looked so vulnerable, like a tiny baby bird in a nest of hospital blankets. She was peaceful, finally. Soon she would join her husband and son in the afterlife. The last thing this tough woman said to me before she died- “Love is all that matters.”

A year later, I would watch my friend John die from a brain tumor. At the end, I sat holding his hand while Troy played John’s beloved baby grand piano. The tumor had robbed him of his ability to speak in sentences, but there was no need for words. What mattered was clearly present in that room. John looked into my eyes, took my hand and squeezed it tight. With his other hand patting his heart, he said “So much…so much…”

This Sunday I attended yet another funeral- a sad, tragic funeral of a woman who died much too young. Andrea was Dani’s little sister. I can still see her sitting cross-legged on her bed at thirteen years old, talking about her boyfriend, as Dani and I were putting on make-up, getting ready to go out to some party or High School football game. Andrea, just a little girl in my memory, with her long wavy hair, and a whole life ahead of her.

Now she is ashes.

There had been hurt and misunderstanding between Dani and her sister over the years, and some of Andrea’s life decisions caused her to distance herself from those who loved her. Yet, on the last day of her life as she lied comatose in her hospital bed, Andrea opened her eyes and smiled at Dani. Nothing needed to be said. What was left at the end, above all the broken hearts and hurt feelings, was love.

At the funeral on Sunday, Andrea’s two teenage daughters, now orphaned, stood up and spoke about their love for their mother. Her oldest, Megan, lamented about all the time they spent fighting over petty things. That time could never be regained, time which could have been spent loving each other. I heard that message loud and clear.

Since Sunday, I have witnessed a lot of anger amongst my friends and family, some of it at each other, some at me, over small things, which will one day be long forgotten.  But Sunday put things in perspective for me. I don’t intend to waste a second of my precious life, which I am so lucky to have, quibbling over small things. I want to spend the hours of my life loving my family and friends, and helping others to do the same. I won’t be swayed from this.

People often comment on my relationship with Troy, how much in love we are after so many years. The reason our love has lasted is not because we don’t fight. We do. It doesn’t happen much anymore but in the early years, we almost didn’t make it. What saved us, time and again, is that we always come back to a place of love. Always. The love we have for each other is larger than either of our needs to be right or to be vindicated. The love outweighs our egos. 

My friendship with Erin is that way. We are a couple of strong-willed broads and we’ve collided spectacularly at times, but again, what I love so much about Erin is her great heart, which prevails over everything else, as does mine. As does Dani’s.

Life is rattling my cage pretty hard right now, testing me, challenging me to walk my talk. I ask myself, if I were lying on my deathbed, would these issues matter?

My life’s mission is to live a life of integrity, love and honesty, and to help others do the same. No matter what is thrown at me, I will stand strong in that mission, unshakable. For I know what will matter on my own deathbed is the love and kindness I shared with people.

Phyllis said it, John said it, and an eighteen year-old girl who’s had to grow up way too fast said it best. Love is all that matters.

A Lesson In Courage

The other day, Troy, Evan and I were in the mountains walking our dog Stitch when Evan developed a sudden fear of red ants on the ground. These are the same ants we walk over on our hikes every single day, but now he wanted me to carry him and protect him from the ants. I saw this as a perfect opportunity for a life lesson.

“Evan, do you know what courage is?”

“No, what is it?”

“It’s when you feel afraid of something, but you do it anyway. That’s how you build courage. Building courage is the only way to become brave.”

He thought about it for a moment.

I continued, “Do you want me to carry you or would you like to try using your courage?”

 “I want to be brave!” He said, and then marched right over those ants with a smile on his face.

Each day since, he storms through the fields over those ants, and calls out “Look Mommy! I’m brave!” He feels great about himself. He feels empowered, and that’s what I want for him.

Evan loves bugs- this is a caterpillar he found.

Courage is a muscle that becomes weak and atrophies without use. As far as I’m concerned, it’s never too early for Evan to start flexing this muscle. Lord knows he’ll need it later in life. I've relied on this muscle more than any other for the past two years. 

If I try to shield my son from the difficulties of life, how will he have the confidence or skills to face challenges on his own? How will he respond to new situations, or to a bully on the playground?

I want him to get a jump on this, so life doesn’t kick his ass later. The truth is, we’re all going to be faced with situations in life that scare us, and when that happens, how are we going to rise to meet it? Are we going to run away and hide? Expect someone else to deal with it for us? Stuff our fear away through addictions? Denial?  I want my kid to walk into his life with courage.

I have learned the hard way, the only way to get through life is to face challenges head on. And it’s never too early, or too late, to start. 

Evolution of a Blog

Thank you for the gift you have given me.

When I started this blog a year and a half ago, I was writing about the trials and tribulations of the writer’s life - the agent rejections, the self-doubts, the pressing urge to write anyway. Never in a million years did I think this blog would become the Dexter SAGA. Never did I imagine I would be on the frontlines of animal activism. But, like my friend Monica Holloway said to me, sometimes life taps you for a cause. You may have never seen it coming but one day there you are, rising up to a fight you didn’t know was in you. Monica is now one of the main spokespersons for Autism awareness. It certainly wasn’t what she had dreamed of as a little girl, but life, as they say, is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.

So here I am.

For anyone who is new to this blog, suffice it to say the past two years have been a whirlwind of drama (and yet blessings sandwiched in there, somehow).

Just a few weeks ago, for instance, I had an amazing miracle of a day: I was Monica’s guest at a private luncheon for Michelle Obama. I was on cloud nine. We laughed and ate and drank wine and were transfixed and inspired by Michelle. Then, as soon as I got home, still walking on air, I got an email from my attorney that our request to keep our dog Stitch during the appeal process had been denied, and now we had to appear in court to beg again. Right after that I got a phone call that the job I had just clinched (which was going to pay for my attorney) had fallen through.  For some reason, that’s how most of my days have been for the past two years. I can’t even bask in a happy moment for a full 24 hours before the next storm hits.

My life hasn’t always been this way. Thank God I’m an obsessive journaler. I can look back at the years 2005-2009 and see what peaceful, happy years they were. But 2010 and 2011…not so much. Luckily (or actually NOT luckily) this has happened to us before. 1995 and 1996 were hellish years. Our house burned down with both our businesses in it, so we were homeless, jobless, hopeless. But we made it through those times, and that is how I know we will make it through these. I learned then that when you are walking through the dark valley of your life, there is no other way but through. You may look for a way to catapult yourself over it, to fly over it, to avoid it by numbing yourself with substances or addictions…but it doesn’t work. You just have to keep trudging through the muck. So that is what we’re doing. And that’s what this blog is for me…a place to trudge through, to sort it all out in my head. If I was walking through life with all this trapped inside me, my brain would be like a hornet’s nest, full of confusing angry thoughts. But instead, you’ve given me a space to put it all out there and connect to others who “get it”.

So for that I want to thank you today. Thanks for sticking with my blog through it’s evolution, and all it’s ups and downs. Thank you for caring, for reading, for commenting to let me know I’m not the only one toughing it out right now. You have been my safety net over troubled waters, and I hope I return the favor.

You've given me a true gift. You guys rock.

How I Got Published (in a Totally Random Way)

When I got the phone call that Seal Press had bought our anthology Dancing at The Shame Prom, I was cautiously optimistic. When I got the email, I smiled…a little. When my agent sent the contract for review, I carefully read it over and asked the pertinent questions. And when my writing partner Amy called and said, in so many words, WHY AREN’T YOU OVER THE MOON? THIS IS GREAT NEWS! I, the girl who’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop said, “I’ll believe it when I have the signed contract in my hand.”

So…here it is. The signed contract. In my hand. And after I exhaled, I started to smile a little, then a lot, and finally decided to let myself celebrate this. My husband and I toasted, and I took this picture, wanting to remember the importance of the moment.

I lied in bed last night reflecting on the journey that led me here, and I realized that nothing happened as I had planned. It didn’t go the way the “How To” books said it would, nor the way I plotted it out in my head, and maybe that’s why I didn’t quite trust it. I wasn’t in control!

I had spent a grueling six years writing and rewriting my memoir Only Good Things, never intending to publish it. I wrote it because it was in me, and I was compelled to get it out. And then, for my birthday in 2009, I took an intensive writing workshop at the home of a writing hero, Joyce Maynard. A few weeks later she asked if she could share my work. I assumed she meant with future classes, and said of course.

Months later, I got an email from a literary agent in New York, saying she had read my work and wanted to read more. I ran around the house jumping and shouting, out of my mind with excitement. Never in a million years did I think anyone would be interested in reading what I wrote. It was just therapy for me. But now it looked as though my life was on the verge of a big change.

I took that as a cue: time for me to take the helm and chart out my course. I worked my butt off, writing every second my son was in preschool, never answering the phone, letting the dust bunnies take over the house. Back and forth the manuscript went for six months, and in the interim, I read all the "How To" books and queried a few other agents as well. But this agent, she was my DREAM agent. She was the one I had to have. She was part of my “plan”.

And then the plan….crashed.

I started this blog two years ago because of the crushing (but kind) rejection I finally got from that dream agent. (that blog is here:http://hollyedexter.blogspot.com/2010/02/crushed.html) She liked the writing, the story, but she said that ultimately, it was just too tough in today’s market to sell a memoir without a “platform” (think Snooki, Bristol Palin…) and she couldn’t take that risk.

I was overwhelmed with feelings of failure and had nowhere to go with them. So I blogged for the first time, and sent it out into cyberspace. And this amazing woman who I had just connected with on She Writes, commented on my blog. This is what she said:

HOLLYE: never ever ever give up! i am actual proof of two agents saying no to my book, one to my face, and that was hard ... and then i got a fabulous agent, and then i got an amazing publisher ... and now my memoir is out in the world and it's so frickin' liberating and scary and writing memoirs is scary scary scary...so DON'T GIVE UP. WRITE. be brilliant. be bold. fuck 'em. something amazing will happen. love, Amy Ferris

I was wowed by this new friend who barely knew me, being so supportive, and not competitive. And so I bought her book Marrying George Clooney, which I devoured. Her writing was so honest and accessible, reading it felt like having a chat with your best friend. I added Amy on facebook, and discovered that we had the same birthday. Long story short, Amy Ferris and I became the best of friends after that. We would have long talks about life, and love and disappointments and courage. We started to write a few essays and blogs together, never competing, always championing one another. And one thing we agreed on – as writers we were going to be bold, be brave, and always tell the absolute truth. We challenged each other to write truthful essays about things we had tried to hide in the past. We’d agree to put a scary, revealing blog out on the same day….and WOW- the responses we’d get were overwhelming. Mostly private messages, people would reveal their innermost secrets to us, and it became clear that everyone was carrying some degree of hidden shame, and thought they were the only one. Now we had a mission. It wasn’t about making money or getting published. We had to keep writing in this vein to let others see they weren’t alone. And as we wrote these revealing pieces, other outlets started picking up our blogs. Before you knew it I had essays published and online webzines asking me to write for them. (And all I had ever wanted to do was to blog about my rejection!)

I diligently edited and reworked my memoir all year long. Meanwhile the phone conversations and blogs with Amy continued until we realized, after seeing one public persona after the next fall on his sword with shame, this was not just a year-long phone conversation that two women were having. This was a conversation that the whole world needed to be having. It needed to be a book. We knew amazing writers who could write brilliantly on this subject. And so, together Amy and I wrote a proposal, and the agent loved it, and the first publisher we went to – the one we really wanted- bought it! (and by the way, everyone told us it was impossible to sell an anthology in this market.)

Suddenly the memoir I had just spent eight years obsessing over was not the centerpiece of my life. The “plan” I made was scrapped, and in its place, something else popped up and tapped me on the shoulder. A calling, I guess you could say.

So what is the moral of my publishing story? When I was fixated on the ONE way my writing career was supposed to go, I almost missed something that was right in front of me, or in our case, something that was always inside of us. Amy said in that first blog comment “Be bold, be brave, something amazing will happen.” And something amazing did happen. I found an amazing friend, we’re writing an amazing book, we’re surrounded by amazing writers, and I have a fucking contract in my hand!

Now that is AMAZING!

I haven’t abandoned my memoir. I still believe it will find it’s way into the world, but I also believe the timing wasn’t right, and I couldn’t push it no matter how I tried. It was a hard lesson in “Surrender 101” for me. I now understand that I can’t push a flower to bloom, and likewise, my life path unfolds at it’s own pace, in it’s own unique way. I learned to write only what was true for me, no matter what the industry, or the books, or “they” said. I learned to stay true to myself, to keep writing in the face of rejection, and to do what felt right instinctually. I still don’t have a “platform”. Let’s face it, I’m never gonna be Snooki…and that’s a good thing.