My first full week of 40 has come and gone. And I don't feel a bit different. In fact the only difference is that I can now officially say that I am 40. My life hasn't changed in the least. However, I believe the door has been opened and I am fully anticipating the coming to pass of many things that have been in the works for many years.
I am so grateful to all of you for walking through the 40 days leading up to my 40th birthday with me. It was fun and I am hoping that you will agree to stick with me through my 40th year! Weekly, I will update the blog over the next 51 weeks.
The only caveat is that I am moving you all back to my original blog for the next year. I want to preserve this space for that 40 days that we spent together. So ARE YOU READY? We're heading back to AS I SING IT, right here: http://www.michelesingsit.blogspot.com/
Venture over and take a look around. You will see the first blog there, welcoming you! And giving you a few of my favorite entries to get you started. Then, sometime this week, we'll meet again. You know, don't you, that I couldn't be 40 without you, don't you?
See you on the other side!
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Monday, February 28, 2011
I AM 40
As my friend Diane said, I have been saying that I was "almost 40" for months. It was sort of a mental game I played so that when it came time to say "I'm 40," it would just roll off the tongue a little easier. I like how it sounds honestly. I am 40. It's the look of it that still frightens me and gets me a little choked up. And that proves one thing. Age really is just a number.
It's the number that gets my panties in a bunch. It's the number that worries me and scares me and tortures me when I am standing in the checkout line at Shop'n'Save perusing the magazines. The number 40 is big. While it's name is short, the number is wide and it takes up space on a page. But what does 40 really mean?
In the bible, 40 is a significant number. It is the product of 5 and 8, which according to some scholars "points to the action of grace (the number 5), leading to and ending with revival and renewal (the number 8)." So 40 means grace, revival and renewal. Also, in the bible, when God decided he wanted to cleanse the earth and start over, it rained for 40 days and 40 nights. Goliath came for 40 days before David took him out. The Israelites spent 40 years in the desert before entering the promised land. So 40 means starting over. It means victory over giant problems. 40 means no more wandering.
In math, 40 is a semi perfect number. The plant Venus forms a pentagram in the night sky every eight years but returns to it's original point every 40 years. In science, 40 is the number of zirconium which is known for it's resilience to corrosion. In football, the measure of the 40-yard dash is critical in scouting and the jersey number 40 has been retired by 10 teams in the NBA, Major League Baseball and the NFL.
40 is a big deal. And I am 40. I embrace all that it means, all that it stands for and all that it holds for me over the next year.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Day 39: Ride 'Em Cowboy
And the bonus for this almost 40-year-old? Cowboys. Everywhere. In chaps. Lord have mercy!
Day 38: My Advice for Men
Today, I left the house to go get Aleve and I ended up with a double bacon cheeseburger and a Snickers bar. That's just a sampling of how a woman's mind sometimes works. Let me reassure you, gentlemen, it is no secret to us that we are sometimes complicated and difficult to understand. That's rather obvious. So here are the top ten things, I want you to know.
10. It is not the position of the toilet seat that gets me riled. It is when I sit down in the dark bathroom in the middle of the night and my butt plunges into the water that makes me cranky.
9. Sharing blankets should not be a requirement in a relationship. Sharing warm hugs should be. And a girl cannot ever have enough hugs. In fact, a hug can be your get out of jail free card when you have no idea what to say.
8. There are times, however, when a hug is not going to work. You will know when that is when you hear these four words: we need to talk. Hugs are not getting you out of that one.
7. Proactivity is your friend. Doing anything before a woman asks you to, gives us the shivers. It's pure joy. In fact, it's practically foreplay.
6. My 8 year old nephew said it best when he suggested that men should never ask other men for advice about women. Ask a woman. Not a woman you are attracted to, of course, but a sister or an ugly neighbor or something.
5. Eventually, she will stop waiting for you. Waiting for you to get your act together... Waiting for you to settle down... Waiting for you to do what you say you are going to do... So, if you like it, you probably should put a ring on it. Beyonce is right.
4. And sometimes, you gotta do what's best for you. Period. Don't be a whipping boy.
3. Stop believing that nonsense that you've been hearing about how women don't really mean what they say. When I say, "I'm fine," I mean it. When I say, "I don't know" or "I don't care," it's because I sure as heck don't know and I really don't care.
2. All women are crazy. At times. We all have our moments.
1. We aren't all as complicated as you think. Sometimes you gotta take us at face value. And it might be best for you to stop trying to figure women out. (Maybe we should do the same.)
10. It is not the position of the toilet seat that gets me riled. It is when I sit down in the dark bathroom in the middle of the night and my butt plunges into the water that makes me cranky.
9. Sharing blankets should not be a requirement in a relationship. Sharing warm hugs should be. And a girl cannot ever have enough hugs. In fact, a hug can be your get out of jail free card when you have no idea what to say.
8. There are times, however, when a hug is not going to work. You will know when that is when you hear these four words: we need to talk. Hugs are not getting you out of that one.
7. Proactivity is your friend. Doing anything before a woman asks you to, gives us the shivers. It's pure joy. In fact, it's practically foreplay.
6. My 8 year old nephew said it best when he suggested that men should never ask other men for advice about women. Ask a woman. Not a woman you are attracted to, of course, but a sister or an ugly neighbor or something.
5. Eventually, she will stop waiting for you. Waiting for you to get your act together... Waiting for you to settle down... Waiting for you to do what you say you are going to do... So, if you like it, you probably should put a ring on it. Beyonce is right.
4. And sometimes, you gotta do what's best for you. Period. Don't be a whipping boy.
3. Stop believing that nonsense that you've been hearing about how women don't really mean what they say. When I say, "I'm fine," I mean it. When I say, "I don't know" or "I don't care," it's because I sure as heck don't know and I really don't care.
2. All women are crazy. At times. We all have our moments.
1. We aren't all as complicated as you think. Sometimes you gotta take us at face value. And it might be best for you to stop trying to figure women out. (Maybe we should do the same.)
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Day 37: You Don't LOOK 40
"You don't look like you're 40."
I hear that all the time. Then I get up as close as possible to the bathroom mirror and stare at the bumps on my skin and the wrinkles in my forehead and the gaping pores on my cheeks and I see a forty year old woman. It's amazing how the body forsakes you as you grow old. The skin doesn't bounce back like it used to and the joints take a while to warm up some days. On those days I feel like a forty year old woman. 
But then I look around the world and wonder. What does a forty year old woman look like? Does she look like Mary J. Blige or Sandra Oh? Does she look like Christina Applegate or Jada Pinkett Smith? Yes, yes, she does. And she looks fabulous.
I return to my mirror. I examine the scars and dark circles under my eyes and that one white eyebrow hair. Wait! Is that REALLY a white hair in my left eyebrow? Yes, it is. I suppose it's providing a balance for the dusting of white that has appeared along my hairline above my right eye. What does a 40 year old woman look like? What is she supposed to be? Does she look like me? Yes, yes she does. And she looks fabulous.
Day 36: Too Old For Homework
A couple of years ago, I decided to return to college to earn my Master of Arts degree. I had sworn for years that I would never go back to school. I wasn't good at it the first time, mostly because I was bored. Things have to make sense to me... They have to resonate within me... They have to feel like a part of my natural or common sense or I eventually lose interest. The only exception is if I am entertained. But the second time around has been the greatest gift I could have given myself.
Continuing my education has obvious benefits but the experience that I didn't think would change my life or affect my future was the interaction with fellow students. This semester has been so enjoyable. I have learned so much from the people around me and I've enjoyed them so much that I wonder how I will learn without them in future classes. They have all been so willing to open up and share their experiences, their opinions and their feelings and so willing to hear mine.
There are days when I feel like I am too old for homework and too old to go racing around town from work to school to home and back again. But then I get to class and I feel young again. I feel like it's never too late to do what you want to do. And I know, once again, that you should never say never.
Continuing my education has obvious benefits but the experience that I didn't think would change my life or affect my future was the interaction with fellow students. This semester has been so enjoyable. I have learned so much from the people around me and I've enjoyed them so much that I wonder how I will learn without them in future classes. They have all been so willing to open up and share their experiences, their opinions and their feelings and so willing to hear mine.
There are days when I feel like I am too old for homework and too old to go racing around town from work to school to home and back again. But then I get to class and I feel young again. I feel like it's never too late to do what you want to do. And I know, once again, that you should never say never.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Day 35: Letters Between Today & Me
Dear Michele,
I hope you enjoyed the fifth last day before you turn the big 4-0. I did my best to make sure that, after you woke up late, the traffic was stacked up on the highway from your entrance to your exit. I know you have a fondness for other drivers on busy roadways. And don't mind thanking me for concealing that dvd of INCEPTION between your car seats that was actually due back at Blockbuster two weeks ago. I thought you might enjoy a little hide and seek. Because I thought it would balance out your day, I was happy to put enough road blocks in your way to cause your commute home to last an hour and make you late for dinner out with your parents. And as the icing on the cake, I am welcoming you home with a water main break that will likely not be fixed by morning.
Sincerely,
Today
------------------------------------------------
Dear Today,
Eat it.
Sincerely,
Michele
I hope you enjoyed the fifth last day before you turn the big 4-0. I did my best to make sure that, after you woke up late, the traffic was stacked up on the highway from your entrance to your exit. I know you have a fondness for other drivers on busy roadways. And don't mind thanking me for concealing that dvd of INCEPTION between your car seats that was actually due back at Blockbuster two weeks ago. I thought you might enjoy a little hide and seek. Because I thought it would balance out your day, I was happy to put enough road blocks in your way to cause your commute home to last an hour and make you late for dinner out with your parents. And as the icing on the cake, I am welcoming you home with a water main break that will likely not be fixed by morning.
Sincerely,
Today
------------------------------------------------
Dear Today,
Eat it.
Sincerely,
Michele
Day 34: National Holidays
I did not spend the day honoring former presidents. I'm not sure if that's what you are supposed to do on President's Day or not. I know that on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, you are supposed to volunteer or help humanity in some way. And on the 4th of July we barbecue and shoot off fireworks and on Labor Day, we do the same. I guess my point is that I'm not sure the original intention of these national holidays has been maintained over the years and that, for me, they mostly just guarantee that I get a day off once a month. I'm pretty sure that unless you are in elementary school, learning about the reasons for those days off that most of us are not in touch with the purpose nor are we fulfilling it.
There are many who believe that we don't have enough national holidays. Many more people argue that there are people who have changed the world who deserve their own day. Some people think we should eliminate some national holidays or rename that. Even I've though that. But if we had a national holiday for every person or group of people who deserved it, we need more days in the year.
So maybe we should just re-evaluate a little. Take the day off for the reason initially intended or use the time to volunteer or do something that makes it worthwhile. Or worth more than just sleeping in.
There are many who believe that we don't have enough national holidays. Many more people argue that there are people who have changed the world who deserve their own day. Some people think we should eliminate some national holidays or rename that. Even I've though that. But if we had a national holiday for every person or group of people who deserved it, we need more days in the year.
So maybe we should just re-evaluate a little. Take the day off for the reason initially intended or use the time to volunteer or do something that makes it worthwhile. Or worth more than just sleeping in.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Day 33: Surround Yourself
On New Year's Eve, I had a brief conversation with my cousin about how important it is to surround yourself with the right people. It is critical to your happiness and your success. The right people push you to achieve beyond your perceived potential. They encourage you to broaden your horizons, expand your knowledge, grow your thought processes and open yourself up to life's possibilities.
My cousin, speaking of his own life experiences said, when you are surrounded by people who want to go to Harvard, you want to go to Harvard and when you are around scientists who are working hard, you want to work hard. If you haven't guessed, my cousin is the scientific brilliance in our family and he has proven by action, not by words, that putting yourself in the position to succeed is the most important step toward being successful.
I wish I would have had such insight 20 years ago but it's never too late to pull people into your life who will edify you and push you to become who you want to be. Six days away from 40 years old seems like a good time to reassess and review and make some cuts or repair some damaged relationships. Sounds like a lofty goal or a daunting task but picking up the phone doesn't feel all that hard.
My cousin, speaking of his own life experiences said, when you are surrounded by people who want to go to Harvard, you want to go to Harvard and when you are around scientists who are working hard, you want to work hard. If you haven't guessed, my cousin is the scientific brilliance in our family and he has proven by action, not by words, that putting yourself in the position to succeed is the most important step toward being successful.
I wish I would have had such insight 20 years ago but it's never too late to pull people into your life who will edify you and push you to become who you want to be. Six days away from 40 years old seems like a good time to reassess and review and make some cuts or repair some damaged relationships. Sounds like a lofty goal or a daunting task but picking up the phone doesn't feel all that hard.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Day 32: A Day at the Salon
When I was a little girl, my mom spent Saturday mornings at the beauty shop. The 4-station shop would be filled every week with the same women who had standing appointments with their stylists. I can still smell the perm solution in the air. and hear the ladies laughing. It was a day out. A day made for socializing, not just getting your hair set.
In the back room, a box filled with donuts sat the counter. Every week, I grabbed either french donut with vanilla icing or a chocolate covered long john. While my mom had her hair washed and rolled and teased out into her bouffant, I would sit under a dryer and read books or play with my dolls. Every once in a while, my sister and I would get our hair cut and rolled too. It felt like such a treat.
Yesterday, I visited my wonderful hair stylist Jamie. The place was buzzing with Saturday clients. Nearly every seat was filled. Chatter danced in the air below the sound of blaring blow dryers. It was so reminiscent of the old days when ladies gathered every weekend to catch up on the neighborhood gossip and get pretty for the week ahead. The face-to-face catching up and the human contact so often gets replaced these days by social media. God knows I love my facebook and tumblr and twitter and all that other stuff but... It reminded me that I must take time out for the little things that make you feel more in touch with the world.
In the back room, a box filled with donuts sat the counter. Every week, I grabbed either french donut with vanilla icing or a chocolate covered long john. While my mom had her hair washed and rolled and teased out into her bouffant, I would sit under a dryer and read books or play with my dolls. Every once in a while, my sister and I would get our hair cut and rolled too. It felt like such a treat.
Yesterday, I visited my wonderful hair stylist Jamie. The place was buzzing with Saturday clients. Nearly every seat was filled. Chatter danced in the air below the sound of blaring blow dryers. It was so reminiscent of the old days when ladies gathered every weekend to catch up on the neighborhood gossip and get pretty for the week ahead. The face-to-face catching up and the human contact so often gets replaced these days by social media. God knows I love my facebook and tumblr and twitter and all that other stuff but... It reminded me that I must take time out for the little things that make you feel more in touch with the world.
Day 31: Laughter is the Best Everything
"If laughter came in pill form, I would be a drug dealer." ~me
I subscribe to the believe that laughter is the best medicine but even when you are not ailing or sad, there is still room for laughter in your life. I love that I don't always know where the laughter will come from and that sometimes it's arrival is unexpected. It makes me giddy when I think about times when I've tried not to laugh but couldn't help myself.
I'm a loud laugher. Sometimes, I've tried to stifle it or laugh a little more quietly but isn't laughter meant to be boisterous and interrupting?
They say that you lose weight when you laugh. If that were true I would be as skinny as a rail. They also say that laughter reduces stress, strengthens your immune system, refocuses you away from stuff that's not so good. Most importantly, it has been proven that laughter connects people. And in many cases it REconnects them.
I am thankful that in the last couple of years, the people from my past have become the people of my present and that in all things, it's laughter that reconnects us. It's laughter that encourages us to get together again, like Friday night when I had dinner with some girls from high school. We laughed from the beginning of the night until the end of the night. People stared at us like we were wrong for enjoying out time together. But that did not deter us from reveling in our humor.
We should all laugh more. Let me know if you need the hook up. I might be able to help you out.
I subscribe to the believe that laughter is the best medicine but even when you are not ailing or sad, there is still room for laughter in your life. I love that I don't always know where the laughter will come from and that sometimes it's arrival is unexpected. It makes me giddy when I think about times when I've tried not to laugh but couldn't help myself.
I'm a loud laugher. Sometimes, I've tried to stifle it or laugh a little more quietly but isn't laughter meant to be boisterous and interrupting?
They say that you lose weight when you laugh. If that were true I would be as skinny as a rail. They also say that laughter reduces stress, strengthens your immune system, refocuses you away from stuff that's not so good. Most importantly, it has been proven that laughter connects people. And in many cases it REconnects them.
I am thankful that in the last couple of years, the people from my past have become the people of my present and that in all things, it's laughter that reconnects us. It's laughter that encourages us to get together again, like Friday night when I had dinner with some girls from high school. We laughed from the beginning of the night until the end of the night. People stared at us like we were wrong for enjoying out time together. But that did not deter us from reveling in our humor.
We should all laugh more. Let me know if you need the hook up. I might be able to help you out.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Day 30: TEN DAYS
TEN DAYS UNTIL THE BIG DAY! The words flashed across the screen on my phone. About one year ago, I set up a countdown on my phone for my birthday and the reminder was set for ten days out. My how a year flew by!
Remember when you were a little kid and being a grown up seemed like FOREVER away from 5 or 6 or how ever old you were at the time? I couldn't imagine turning 13 and being a teenager for the first time. And then I wished away time until my 16th birthday when my dad showed up at school in the silver Chevy Citation he'd bought for me. (He got it at a place called "Rent-a-Wreck." I wrecked in two weeks later.)
Eighteen was only significant because I got to vote in my first presidential election that year. I voted for the first George Bush. I thought I was a Republican back then. And of course I was an adult so if Pat Baker asked me to run away with him in his Mitsubishi truck to chase his dreams of playing professional soccer, I would be allowed to MAKE MY OWN decision to go.
Twenty-one came too soon. My college basketball team, along with the men's team, took me out that night. We went to Hacienda and John Ross bought me a cement mixer. My biggest accomplishment after that was not throwing up. Once you hit twenty-one the big milestones of life are 30, 40, 50... The birthdays that come every ten years. But there aren't any real expectations for those birthdays except that they won't come any time soon.
Then one day, you are awakened by tiny bells and a message that blasts TEN DAYS UNTIL THE BIG DAY. And it's only ten days until your 40th birthday.
Remember when you were a little kid and being a grown up seemed like FOREVER away from 5 or 6 or how ever old you were at the time? I couldn't imagine turning 13 and being a teenager for the first time. And then I wished away time until my 16th birthday when my dad showed up at school in the silver Chevy Citation he'd bought for me. (He got it at a place called "Rent-a-Wreck." I wrecked in two weeks later.)
Eighteen was only significant because I got to vote in my first presidential election that year. I voted for the first George Bush. I thought I was a Republican back then. And of course I was an adult so if Pat Baker asked me to run away with him in his Mitsubishi truck to chase his dreams of playing professional soccer, I would be allowed to MAKE MY OWN decision to go.
Twenty-one came too soon. My college basketball team, along with the men's team, took me out that night. We went to Hacienda and John Ross bought me a cement mixer. My biggest accomplishment after that was not throwing up. Once you hit twenty-one the big milestones of life are 30, 40, 50... The birthdays that come every ten years. But there aren't any real expectations for those birthdays except that they won't come any time soon.
Then one day, you are awakened by tiny bells and a message that blasts TEN DAYS UNTIL THE BIG DAY. And it's only ten days until your 40th birthday.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Day 29: Standing for Stan Again
Originally, I planned to use this space to ream Albert Pujols, his camp and the St. Louis Cardinals for allowing their contract negotiations to turn into a circus of selfishness and greed. But then, Stan Musial received the Medal of Honor. Oh yeah! Stan Musial received the Medal of Honor in Washington D.C., from the President of the United States!
There are hundreds of stories out there about the ceremony and Mr. Musial's reaction so I won't bore you with repetition. But I wanted to share a quick story about the day I met Mr. Musial myself.
Roger Dean Stadium in Florida invited me to sing the national anthem on opening day of St. Louis Cardinals Spring Training. Prior to the game, the staff escorted me to the field where I waited for about 20 minutes until game time. As they prepared for the pregame ceremonies, Hall of Famers streamed out of the dugout. First, Hall of Fame announcer Jack Buck stepped out and promptly introduced himself to me. As if that was necessary... He was followed by Lou Brock and Bob Gibson and Red Schoendienst. And finally, Stan Musial arrived. They were all so kind. And I stood in awe as they shook hands with one another and waved to the crowd. I am rarely star struck but I understood that I was in the presence of men who had made history.
The anthem was sung and as I exited the field, a sweet older woman grabbed my arm. "That was the most beautiful anthem I've ever heard," she said. I spoke to her for a moment, thanked her and headed on my way. Later that night, my friend Cindy and I ate dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant in West Palm Beach. As we were being seated, the same older woman came around the corner and recognized me. She was Lillian Musial, Stan's wife. Again, she stopped me and introduced me to her husband. He was a seemingly gentle man and very kind. He complimented me briefly but generously then collected his wife and left.
Today, I am standing up for Stan again just like the campaign that helped him get the Medal of Honor. Let us put our focus into recognizing moments like this that are honorable and worthy of praise and consideration. Let us not contribute to the energy that might make another man's quest for an obscene amount of money overshadow something great.
I often say that it is time for us as a country and a world and a people in general to return to the simpler things. The way to do that is to look back at what came before you and live your life in appreciation of it. Take note Albert. And all of you other baseball players too.
Roger Dean Stadium in Florida invited me to sing the national anthem on opening day of St. Louis Cardinals Spring Training. Prior to the game, the staff escorted me to the field where I waited for about 20 minutes until game time. As they prepared for the pregame ceremonies, Hall of Famers streamed out of the dugout. First, Hall of Fame announcer Jack Buck stepped out and promptly introduced himself to me. As if that was necessary... He was followed by Lou Brock and Bob Gibson and Red Schoendienst. And finally, Stan Musial arrived. They were all so kind. And I stood in awe as they shook hands with one another and waved to the crowd. I am rarely star struck but I understood that I was in the presence of men who had made history.
The anthem was sung and as I exited the field, a sweet older woman grabbed my arm. "That was the most beautiful anthem I've ever heard," she said. I spoke to her for a moment, thanked her and headed on my way. Later that night, my friend Cindy and I ate dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant in West Palm Beach. As we were being seated, the same older woman came around the corner and recognized me. She was Lillian Musial, Stan's wife. Again, she stopped me and introduced me to her husband. He was a seemingly gentle man and very kind. He complimented me briefly but generously then collected his wife and left.
Today, I am standing up for Stan again just like the campaign that helped him get the Medal of Honor. Let us put our focus into recognizing moments like this that are honorable and worthy of praise and consideration. Let us not contribute to the energy that might make another man's quest for an obscene amount of money overshadow something great.
I often say that it is time for us as a country and a world and a people in general to return to the simpler things. The way to do that is to look back at what came before you and live your life in appreciation of it. Take note Albert. And all of you other baseball players too.
Day 28: The Tiny Red Glove
Walking down the street in May of 2008, I stumbled upon a tiny red glove. I nearly crushed it with my gigantic foot but the bright red popped off of the beige concrete and grabbed my attention. The glove rested neatly on the ground and I leaned over to examine it. Traces of dried leaves and grass clung to the cotton. Perhaps it had fallen out of a woman's pocket as she fumbled for her keys or maybe it leaped out of a child's book bag as he hurried home from school. I stared at it for a moment before I realized that almost every finger of the glove was tucked neatly inside itself, except the middle finger. The universally recognized middle finger...I believe in signs. I believe that God speaks to us in many ways. I believe that the universe challenges us and that the world sometimes lets us know what kind of karma we are exuding by giving it right back to us. And in May of 2008, I believe that tiny red glove was a sign and it clearly had a message.
Coincidentally (or not), it was that month that I took back my life. I took it into my own hands. Some days I cradled it gently and some days I shook it fiercely back into reality. But I treated it the way it needed to be treated which is not something you can expect when you leave it up to someone else.
Almost three years later, I am still making changes and learning and growing but there's no subtlety in my message back to that tiny red glove and the world for that matter. You can't keep me down. I am a force to reckon with. And... Right back atcha!
Monday, February 14, 2011
Day 27: I Wish You Love
Happy Valentines Day!
Many years of my life have been spent hating this holiday. But I'd be lying if I said I never had a moment when someone made me feel loved or important or like he really got who I am. And to ignore those moments, in spite of the relationships that surrounded them would be tragic. I've heard many people say that love should be celebrated every day and not just one day out of the year. Those people are right. But I believe it's also true that we should be grateful for all of the good in our lives even if it doesn't make sense to our hearts.
Because others don't see me as being successful in love, they often don't take my opinions seriously nor do they heed my advice. But marriage does not equal success in love. Some statistics show that 50% of all first marriages end in divorce. That number increases in second marriages and even more in third marriages. Anybody can get married. But marriage does not equal success in love.
Success in love is the ability to open yourself up to the possibilities, to feel with every ounce of your being, to share on an emotional level with another human being, to experience selflessness and to put yourself at risk for it to all completely backfire. At least that's my opinion.
Today, I wish you the experience of love. I wish you real, warm and genuine hugs. Long kisses that feel like they might never end. A tug in your heart that tells you to stay. Or tells you to go. I wish you beautiful memories and satisfaction in knowing that you took a chance. I wish you healthy and happy relationships.
Again, I wish you a Happy Valentine's Day!
Many years of my life have been spent hating this holiday. But I'd be lying if I said I never had a moment when someone made me feel loved or important or like he really got who I am. And to ignore those moments, in spite of the relationships that surrounded them would be tragic. I've heard many people say that love should be celebrated every day and not just one day out of the year. Those people are right. But I believe it's also true that we should be grateful for all of the good in our lives even if it doesn't make sense to our hearts.
Because others don't see me as being successful in love, they often don't take my opinions seriously nor do they heed my advice. But marriage does not equal success in love. Some statistics show that 50% of all first marriages end in divorce. That number increases in second marriages and even more in third marriages. Anybody can get married. But marriage does not equal success in love.
Success in love is the ability to open yourself up to the possibilities, to feel with every ounce of your being, to share on an emotional level with another human being, to experience selflessness and to put yourself at risk for it to all completely backfire. At least that's my opinion.
Today, I wish you the experience of love. I wish you real, warm and genuine hugs. Long kisses that feel like they might never end. A tug in your heart that tells you to stay. Or tells you to go. I wish you beautiful memories and satisfaction in knowing that you took a chance. I wish you healthy and happy relationships.
Again, I wish you a Happy Valentine's Day!
Day 26: Move It People!
Hi, my name is Michele and I'm a road rager.
For years, I've made excuses. It's all of those other people on the roads who don't know how to drive. They don't pay attention. They spend too much time on their cell phones. They are too short-sighted or they are looking so far ahead that they don't notice what's happening right in front of them.
How about those people that drive until the acceleration ramp ends and then just expect you to stop and let them in? Find an opening and take it! And inevitably, in the midst of every single traffic jam, there is one guy at the front of the pack that is slowing everyone down. Trust me. It's ONE GUY.
But last week, I started a job that requires me to drive 45 minutes to an hour every morning and every night. So I've decided to make a concerted effort to breathe easy on the roads and not allow the bad drivers around me to determine my mood. I'm cranking up the tunes in the car and doing my breathing exercises.
And I have just one favor to ask of the rest of you while I make the transition from road rager to responsible driver. MOVE IT PEOPLE!
For years, I've made excuses. It's all of those other people on the roads who don't know how to drive. They don't pay attention. They spend too much time on their cell phones. They are too short-sighted or they are looking so far ahead that they don't notice what's happening right in front of them.
How about those people that drive until the acceleration ramp ends and then just expect you to stop and let them in? Find an opening and take it! And inevitably, in the midst of every single traffic jam, there is one guy at the front of the pack that is slowing everyone down. Trust me. It's ONE GUY.
But last week, I started a job that requires me to drive 45 minutes to an hour every morning and every night. So I've decided to make a concerted effort to breathe easy on the roads and not allow the bad drivers around me to determine my mood. I'm cranking up the tunes in the car and doing my breathing exercises.
And I have just one favor to ask of the rest of you while I make the transition from road rager to responsible driver. MOVE IT PEOPLE!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Day 25: A Loss for Words
It isn't often that I am at a loss for words. But 25 days into my 40 days until I turn 40, I find it hard to put a blog together. (This does not bode well for readers who are hoping I will keep writing through my 40th year.) So, today I am leaving the words to some much wiser folks who are talking about... words.
"One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter." ~James Earl Jones
"The right word may be effective but no word was ever as effective as a rightly timed pause." ~Mark Twain
"When words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain." ~William Shakespeare
"In the end we remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends."
~Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
"I'm a woman of very few words, but lots of actions." ~Mae West
"A bad word whispered will echo a hundred miles." ~Chinese Proverb
"Words are a wonderful form of communication but they will never replace kisses and punches."
~Ashleigh Brilliant
"One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter." ~James Earl Jones
"The right word may be effective but no word was ever as effective as a rightly timed pause." ~Mark Twain
"When words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain." ~William Shakespeare
"In the end we remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends."
~Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
"I'm a woman of very few words, but lots of actions." ~Mae West
"A bad word whispered will echo a hundred miles." ~Chinese Proverb
"Words are a wonderful form of communication but they will never replace kisses and punches."
~Ashleigh Brilliant
Friday, February 11, 2011
Day 24: Gone, and a cloud in my heart
 |
| Jim, me and Phil at the last game in the old Busch Stadium. |
"Gone - flitted away,
Taken the stars from the night and the sun
From the day!
Gone, and a cloud in my heart."
~Alfred Tennyson
Taken the stars from the night and the sun
From the day!
Gone, and a cloud in my heart."
~Alfred Tennyson
Day 23: Oh say can you see...
note: Day 23 is Thursday, Febuary 10th.
Today, The St. Louis Hall of Fame held a luncheon honoring two of this year's inductees. Quite the crowd gathered to recognize Bruce Sutter, St. Louis Cardinals Hall of Fame pitcher and Bill Bradley, Hall of Fame basketball player, Rhodes scholar and former senator. The room was filled with athletes and fans and members of the media. I had the honor and privilege of singing the national anthem to help kick off the event.
Award-winning broadcaster Ron Jacober introduced me. Because people had already started eating lunch, he told them that they could stay seated if they wanted during the anthem. But as I sang the first phrase the crowd began to stand. First, one by one, they set down their forks and pulled up their napkins and rose to their feet. Then whole tables stood. And within seconds, the entire room stood tall with their hands on their hearts. After the final note, Mr. Jacober said, "The NFL should be paying attention to you."
I hadn't planned to mentioned Christina Aguilera's anthem singing error at Superbowl XLV on this blog until Mr. Jacober made that comment. I have been singing the national anthem for 23 years. And there is one thing that I know for sure about the anthem: the singing of our national anthem is a precious moment.
The lyrics come from a poem written by Francis Scott Key and they are based on a specific battle. A man had left Baltimore to try to rescue his friend who was being held captive by the British army. When he tried to return, he couldn't because there was a planned attack on the city. He watched from afar and he spotted the flag waving over the city. The man kept watch over night and at one point, in the midst of the bombing, he lost sight of the flag. As dawn came and the smoke cleared, he realized that the flag was still there.
There is nothing about that story that is not relevant today. For most of my life, our country has been at war. There are men and women enduring battle day and night and when they make it through... when they fight through the night... they are that flag that is still standing when the smoke clears.
Every American should know the words and understand the meaning behind the song and appreciate that it is just as relevant today as it was in 1814. And every anthem singer should remember that the performance is secondary to telling the story.
Today, The St. Louis Hall of Fame held a luncheon honoring two of this year's inductees. Quite the crowd gathered to recognize Bruce Sutter, St. Louis Cardinals Hall of Fame pitcher and Bill Bradley, Hall of Fame basketball player, Rhodes scholar and former senator. The room was filled with athletes and fans and members of the media. I had the honor and privilege of singing the national anthem to help kick off the event.
Award-winning broadcaster Ron Jacober introduced me. Because people had already started eating lunch, he told them that they could stay seated if they wanted during the anthem. But as I sang the first phrase the crowd began to stand. First, one by one, they set down their forks and pulled up their napkins and rose to their feet. Then whole tables stood. And within seconds, the entire room stood tall with their hands on their hearts. After the final note, Mr. Jacober said, "The NFL should be paying attention to you."
I hadn't planned to mentioned Christina Aguilera's anthem singing error at Superbowl XLV on this blog until Mr. Jacober made that comment. I have been singing the national anthem for 23 years. And there is one thing that I know for sure about the anthem: the singing of our national anthem is a precious moment.
The lyrics come from a poem written by Francis Scott Key and they are based on a specific battle. A man had left Baltimore to try to rescue his friend who was being held captive by the British army. When he tried to return, he couldn't because there was a planned attack on the city. He watched from afar and he spotted the flag waving over the city. The man kept watch over night and at one point, in the midst of the bombing, he lost sight of the flag. As dawn came and the smoke cleared, he realized that the flag was still there.
There is nothing about that story that is not relevant today. For most of my life, our country has been at war. There are men and women enduring battle day and night and when they make it through... when they fight through the night... they are that flag that is still standing when the smoke clears.
Every American should know the words and understand the meaning behind the song and appreciate that it is just as relevant today as it was in 1814. And every anthem singer should remember that the performance is secondary to telling the story.
Day 22: Silky Smooth. Or Not.
note: Day 22 is Wednesday, February 9th.
I've stopped shaving my legs.
Perhaps some people, like me, are too open and honest on the internet. And maybe we shouldn't tell our readers everything about everything. Maybe I shouldn't talk about my monthly lady time. And perhaps I shouldn't reveal that I've stopped shaving my legs. But it's too late so we should probably talk about it.
I've stopped shaving my legs.
I don't remember the first time I shaved them but I do remember reaching an age when I became very anxious about the whole experience. When would it be time to start shaving them? Was everyone else already shaving theirs? I worried. I didn't want to get left behind. What I didn't realize and what every woman around me failed to mention was that once I started shaving my legs, there would be no end in sight. It would be a task repeated almost daily for many years with the purpose of creating silky smooth legs that, for most of my life, NOBODY ELSE WOULD TOUCH.
At 18 years old and less than three minutes into my first volleyball game of my college career, I blew out my knee. My team was playing in a tournament in Tennessee at the time and as I waited for the ambulance to arrive and cart me off to the hospital, players from other teams around the country hovered around me to talk to me and keep my mind off of the pain. Finally, a fire truck pulled up and one of the girls leaned into my ear and said, "You should see the hot fireman coming over here." Instantly I laughed and cried at the same time, "I didn't shaved my legs!" Of course, hottie firefighter strolled up, took of his helmet and immediately began examining my knee. With his hands...
So, while I believe that if you are prepared for anything, anything can happen, everyone else always says that it's when you're not looking that the love of your life shows up. So, I'm not going to jinx myself. And I'm not looking. To prove it, I've fired my razor and benched the shaving cream. And I've stopped shaving my legs.
I've stopped shaving my legs.
Perhaps some people, like me, are too open and honest on the internet. And maybe we shouldn't tell our readers everything about everything. Maybe I shouldn't talk about my monthly lady time. And perhaps I shouldn't reveal that I've stopped shaving my legs. But it's too late so we should probably talk about it.
I've stopped shaving my legs.
I don't remember the first time I shaved them but I do remember reaching an age when I became very anxious about the whole experience. When would it be time to start shaving them? Was everyone else already shaving theirs? I worried. I didn't want to get left behind. What I didn't realize and what every woman around me failed to mention was that once I started shaving my legs, there would be no end in sight. It would be a task repeated almost daily for many years with the purpose of creating silky smooth legs that, for most of my life, NOBODY ELSE WOULD TOUCH.
At 18 years old and less than three minutes into my first volleyball game of my college career, I blew out my knee. My team was playing in a tournament in Tennessee at the time and as I waited for the ambulance to arrive and cart me off to the hospital, players from other teams around the country hovered around me to talk to me and keep my mind off of the pain. Finally, a fire truck pulled up and one of the girls leaned into my ear and said, "You should see the hot fireman coming over here." Instantly I laughed and cried at the same time, "I didn't shaved my legs!" Of course, hottie firefighter strolled up, took of his helmet and immediately began examining my knee. With his hands...
So, while I believe that if you are prepared for anything, anything can happen, everyone else always says that it's when you're not looking that the love of your life shows up. So, I'm not going to jinx myself. And I'm not looking. To prove it, I've fired my razor and benched the shaving cream. And I've stopped shaving my legs.
Day 21: No Rest!
note: Day 21 is Tuesday, February 8th
For two days now I have been employed full time and a full time student but it only took about 24 hours for me to realize that sometimes, the best laid plans are just plain crazy. When I wake up in the morning, I don't feel almost 40. When I look in the mirror, I don't think I look almost 40. Age is a state of mind and in my mind, I am not even close to 40.
But there are moments when it is painfully clear to me that I am not 20 any more either. The mornings when I wake up after staying up late to do homework and only getting four hours of sleep remind me that I'm not a kid anymore. Then, stretches of sleep-deprived days nearly bring me to tears. I am not young enough to hang but I act like a three year old when I am so tired I could cry. And, finally, when my to do list has 17 items and I barely make it through five of them, because I'm too tired to keep going.
Have I mentioned that I'm a little tired. There's no rest for the weary! Or is that the wicked... I don't know. All I know is there's no rest!
For two days now I have been employed full time and a full time student but it only took about 24 hours for me to realize that sometimes, the best laid plans are just plain crazy. When I wake up in the morning, I don't feel almost 40. When I look in the mirror, I don't think I look almost 40. Age is a state of mind and in my mind, I am not even close to 40.
But there are moments when it is painfully clear to me that I am not 20 any more either. The mornings when I wake up after staying up late to do homework and only getting four hours of sleep remind me that I'm not a kid anymore. Then, stretches of sleep-deprived days nearly bring me to tears. I am not young enough to hang but I act like a three year old when I am so tired I could cry. And, finally, when my to do list has 17 items and I barely make it through five of them, because I'm too tired to keep going.
Have I mentioned that I'm a little tired. There's no rest for the weary! Or is that the wicked... I don't know. All I know is there's no rest!
Monday, February 7, 2011
Day 20: The World is Your Oyster
Dragging myself into the house after my first day of work at my new job, I threw down my coat and purse and paused in the kitchen. A delivery had come earlier in the day and I couldn't imagine who may have sent it. Tearing into the paper, I discovered the beautiful, bright pink flowers and the card attached was signed by a dear friend whom I've known since high school.
We are half way through the 40 days until my 40th birthday. So I had planned to muster up some half-hearted blog about hitting the half way point. But then the flowers came and they reminded me how important it is to let people know when you are thinking about them. It can shift a person's entire mood or make someone's day. A kind word, a short message, even a smile can pull someone back from the brink of... mediocrity!
I also started thinking about the sentiment that my wonderful friend had written in the card. "The World is Your Oyster." Shakespeare first popularized the phrase in "The Merry Wives on Windsor" and the original meaning was exactly what you think: the world is yours for the taking and it is a place where you can get something of great value just by using the proper tools and gently prying open the shell.
Thank you, my good friend, for thinking of me, for letting me know you were thinking of me and for reminding me that I can have whatever I have the guts to go after. Look out world. You might want to hide your pearls!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Day 19: Super Day
But my favorite part of days like these is getting the food together. I love cooking for a crowd. I love the organizing and timing everything so it's all ready at the same time. There's an art to throwing a party and I don't excel at it but I don't suck either. Practice makes perfect. I look forward to the presentation of the food and watching everyone pick apart all the pretty platters as they pile food on their plates. And at the end of the party when I am cleaning up, I am satisfied knowing that everyone is full and happy. I don't even mind the pile of dirty dishes. They are symbolic of a successful day.Saturday, February 5, 2011
Day 18: Turning Home
One of my favorite country artists these days is David Nail. He's a hometown kid of sorts. He grew up in Missouri. I was first introduced to his music by Tony LaRussa while I worked an event for the Animal Rescue Foundation.
Two things draw me to certain music. First, there's a certain quality in a person's voice that attracts me. It's not always the same quality. It's just something in they way they project the music that moves me emotionally in one way or another. Second, the lyrics have to make sense to me. You know when you hear a song and you say out loud or you feel deep within you that you agree or you get it? Or you feel like they must have gotten in your head somehow or seen a video of your life? That's what hooks me.
Today, I spent some time with college friends and it's always such a good time when we get together. We talked briefly about how different our school is today compared to "back in the day" when we were there. We took a couple of very quick trips down memory lane. And, maybe it's this getting older thing but, every time we are together I feel more nostalgic and a little more sentimental.
David Nail has some new music coming out this week. But for now here's his song TURNING HOME. The lyrics say " And I don't know no friends like the old friends. I never seem to laugh now like I did with them. But deep inside me, a piece of my history. Yeah, I hear their voices even though they're gone. And it keeps me turning home."
We made a lot of history in our time at Webster U. There were a lot of firsts for all of us. We've got a lot more stories than anyone ever read about in the Journal. And it's not the same place it was when we were there. I'm sure it's better in some ways. But there will never be anything like the good old days again.
Two things draw me to certain music. First, there's a certain quality in a person's voice that attracts me. It's not always the same quality. It's just something in they way they project the music that moves me emotionally in one way or another. Second, the lyrics have to make sense to me. You know when you hear a song and you say out loud or you feel deep within you that you agree or you get it? Or you feel like they must have gotten in your head somehow or seen a video of your life? That's what hooks me.
Today, I spent some time with college friends and it's always such a good time when we get together. We talked briefly about how different our school is today compared to "back in the day" when we were there. We took a couple of very quick trips down memory lane. And, maybe it's this getting older thing but, every time we are together I feel more nostalgic and a little more sentimental.
David Nail has some new music coming out this week. But for now here's his song TURNING HOME. The lyrics say " And I don't know no friends like the old friends. I never seem to laugh now like I did with them. But deep inside me, a piece of my history. Yeah, I hear their voices even though they're gone. And it keeps me turning home."
We made a lot of history in our time at Webster U. There were a lot of firsts for all of us. We've got a lot more stories than anyone ever read about in the Journal. And it's not the same place it was when we were there. I'm sure it's better in some ways. But there will never be anything like the good old days again.
Day 17: I Pledge Allegiance
This week, I had the honor and privilege of photographing one of the naturalization ceremonies at the Thomas F. Eagleton Courthouse downtown. I don't take many things too seriously but I do reserve a high level of respect for the patriotic moments in our country. I wouldn't have spent the last 25 years singing the national anthem if I didn't believe that we lived in a great place and that the men and women who came before me deserve to be honored in some small way for making it a great place. 
An uncertainty seemed to linger in the air early in the morning. The candidates for citizenship filed in one at a time. Conversation was held to a minimum except for the small children that darted through the courtroom now and then. But once everyone took a seat and the ceremony began, excitement began to bubble up in the place. The 64 people representing 33 different countries, stood and, placing their hands on their hearts, they recited the pledge of allegiance. What a moving moment! There were doctors and nurses among them. Janitors and truck drivers. There were stay-at-home moms and students and grandmothers. They came from Vietnam and Greece and Bosnia. And Haiti and India and the Congo. They were brown and black and white skinned people. Tall and short. Fat and thin. Some spoke softly and others were loud and proud. They each held tiny American flags in their hands throughout the ceremony. And afterward, they held up their certificates in front of puffed up chests and they were the perfect picture of America.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Day 16: She's Back Again
Every month, I anticipate her arrival. For years, she showed up like clockwork. Same day. Same time. Now she just rolls on in any time she feels like it. There's no planning any more. Eventually, I expect she'll stop showing up altogether.
For years I cursed her visits. That was back when she and I were just getting acquainted. I wished her out of my life. All she did was cause me pain and embarrassment. She was a bad influence. Every time she was around my mood changed dramatically. I was irritable and cranky and cried at the drop of a dime. What was the point?! She offered no real value to my life. She just got in the way.
Later on, after knowing her for years and understanding her purpose in my life, I appreciate our get-togethers. I recall a few times when I didn't think she'd make an appearance. And then I missed her desperately. I prayed that she'd come back again. "Please God!" I begged. "Just let her come." Sure enough, she'd surprise me a few days late. Then I praised her and thanked God. Until our next rendezvous... Then I hated her again.
Our relationship has become a bit erratic of late. The time between her visits varies. She seems to avoid me when I'm totally stressed out which is probably smart but that stresses me out even more because I've come to depend on her arrival. And our interactions have taken on a desperate undertone. She didn't tell me that I was allotted only a certain number of trysts with her in my lifetime until that number dwindled dramatically. And then... sadness enveloped us. She and I. For her arrival now means two things: there's not much time left and another month has passed that I am not pregnant.
For years I cursed her visits. That was back when she and I were just getting acquainted. I wished her out of my life. All she did was cause me pain and embarrassment. She was a bad influence. Every time she was around my mood changed dramatically. I was irritable and cranky and cried at the drop of a dime. What was the point?! She offered no real value to my life. She just got in the way.
Later on, after knowing her for years and understanding her purpose in my life, I appreciate our get-togethers. I recall a few times when I didn't think she'd make an appearance. And then I missed her desperately. I prayed that she'd come back again. "Please God!" I begged. "Just let her come." Sure enough, she'd surprise me a few days late. Then I praised her and thanked God. Until our next rendezvous... Then I hated her again.
Our relationship has become a bit erratic of late. The time between her visits varies. She seems to avoid me when I'm totally stressed out which is probably smart but that stresses me out even more because I've come to depend on her arrival. And our interactions have taken on a desperate undertone. She didn't tell me that I was allotted only a certain number of trysts with her in my lifetime until that number dwindled dramatically. And then... sadness enveloped us. She and I. For her arrival now means two things: there's not much time left and another month has passed that I am not pregnant.
Day 15: Snowed In
I can't let SNOWPOCALYPSE 2011 pass without a little bit of acknowledgement. They called it the biggest storm in decades. Meteorologists issued an ice storm alert, then blizzard warnings came and there were predictions of over a foot of snow for most of the state of Missouri. I love snow but it paralyzes the city of St. Louis for some reason. 
While it's not quite what I hoped (like so many things in life), it is still beautiful.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Day 14: The Invitation
Twenty-three years ago, my adoption records were opened and I found out that my birthfather was Cherokee. So, for the last twenty-three years, I have read books, gone to pow wows and talked to as many Indians as a girl can meet in Missouri (which isn't very many). My connection to the culture was immediate. I love my ancestry. And I am now a very proud Indian. (Feather, not dot...)
Most of the books I read are Indian-related materials. And I find great inspiration in much of it. Now, you probably know that I have many friends who tell me that I am too picky when it comes to relationships. That maybe I should give up on the pretty boys and find me a rugged country boy... That I should be more thankful for the opportunities that cross my path, even if they aren't exactly what I want... Yes, I am picky. But no, I do not think it's a bad thing. We are day 14 into the 40 days before my 40th birthday and at this point in life, I know what I need. A few years ago, I came across the following piece. Often times, the words of others say it better than you ever could. This is exactly how I feel.
THE INVITATION
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting in your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit in pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tip of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you're telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from God's presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.
It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
Most of the books I read are Indian-related materials. And I find great inspiration in much of it. Now, you probably know that I have many friends who tell me that I am too picky when it comes to relationships. That maybe I should give up on the pretty boys and find me a rugged country boy... That I should be more thankful for the opportunities that cross my path, even if they aren't exactly what I want... Yes, I am picky. But no, I do not think it's a bad thing. We are day 14 into the 40 days before my 40th birthday and at this point in life, I know what I need. A few years ago, I came across the following piece. Often times, the words of others say it better than you ever could. This is exactly how I feel.
THE INVITATION
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting in your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit in pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tip of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you're telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from God's presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.
It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
Day 13: Mistakes
Yesterday, Susan Sarandon said on Oprah that if she could give her 20-year-old self one piece of advice it would be that it's ok to make mistakes. She said that making mistakes is the most fun part of life. I don't know if I would call all of my mistakes fun but I do know that out of every situation that I "got myself into" came a lesson. And with the exception of one area of my life, I have taken those lessons to heart and strived to prevent history from repeating itself.
That said, I think if I could give my 20-year-old self any one piece of advice it would be about mistakes too. But I would say something more like this:
"You are going to make more mistakes in the next 10 years than you have up to this point. And they are going to be big. Those mistakes are going to affect, not only you, but also the people around you. Be sure to say you're sorry to them. But know that many of them will never forgive you. Don't let that keep you from forgiving yourself. Don't let their disappointment keep you from picking yourself up and dusting yourself off. And don't think that you're alone in all of it. Nobody in the world is the only one that something happens to."
That said, I think if I could give my 20-year-old self any one piece of advice it would be about mistakes too. But I would say something more like this:
"You are going to make more mistakes in the next 10 years than you have up to this point. And they are going to be big. Those mistakes are going to affect, not only you, but also the people around you. Be sure to say you're sorry to them. But know that many of them will never forgive you. Don't let that keep you from forgiving yourself. Don't let their disappointment keep you from picking yourself up and dusting yourself off. And don't think that you're alone in all of it. Nobody in the world is the only one that something happens to."
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Day 12: Parental Guidance
One day I woke up and my parents were wearing elastic pants and Velcro shoes. Literally, one day... It happened. I left their house, went to sleep in my own bed at my own place and when I saw them again, they looked old to me.
I mean no offense to my parents when I say that. They are in their 70's and they have always looked much younger. But the last few years have aged them. This last 6 months has been particularly difficult. My dad has had two surgeries and I've watched my mom lose her glasses about 12 or 15 times. ( I won't tell you some of the places I've found them.)
My relationship with my parents is probably the relationship that I am least comfortable writing about or discussing. Partly because we have not always been close but mostly because the weight of the guilt I feel because I am not incredibly close to them is unbearable. But no matter the closeness between a child and a parent, watching your mom and dad grow old is saddening and maddening and scary.
They watch old movies as if it's the first time they've seen them and they are scared to death of technology. Yet they are light years ahead of many of their counterparts who are stuck in their "ways." They are often surprisingly open-minded and all they really want is happiness for my sister and I. I remember one day as I wallowed in self-pity, my mom offered to give me every dime she had if it would make me happy. They feel responsible for how satisfied we are in life and part of that is because times weren't always easy growing up.
I am grateful for this time we've had. Do I miss my alone time? Yes. Do I cherish late nights after they've gone to bed and any opportunity I get to take a long hot bath? Of course. Do I often wish that someone else could be here to help them out and that I could just visit or come to dinner once in a while? Most definitely. And I feel horrible about it. Because they have given me a lot.
I know that in spite of the parental guidance I've received that I did not turn out they way they thought I would. You never know what your going to get with your kids. I imagine it's even more of a gamble when you adopt! But on the days when my mom says, "You're a really good person, Michele" and the moments when my dad says he's proud of me, I know that there's still hope for me to make the mark and do right by them. I choose not to think about what I would do without them. I must do a better job of enjoying my time with them. But a little apartment around the corner might be in order!
I mean no offense to my parents when I say that. They are in their 70's and they have always looked much younger. But the last few years have aged them. This last 6 months has been particularly difficult. My dad has had two surgeries and I've watched my mom lose her glasses about 12 or 15 times. ( I won't tell you some of the places I've found them.)
My relationship with my parents is probably the relationship that I am least comfortable writing about or discussing. Partly because we have not always been close but mostly because the weight of the guilt I feel because I am not incredibly close to them is unbearable. But no matter the closeness between a child and a parent, watching your mom and dad grow old is saddening and maddening and scary.
For the last few years, I have lived with my parents. I call them my roommates which makes them laugh. Tonight, on the news, an anchor recounted a story about the last big snow storm in St. Louis during which a man had the opportunity to get to know his neighbor. The man and his neighbor are now married. I laughed. I am not going to meet anyone new in my building when I get snowed in! But I have gained a lot of knowledge while living here. I have heard tremendous stories of their childhoods and I've sat quietly, watching them hold hands or listening to them have the same conversation they had yesterday and the day before.
I am grateful for this time we've had. Do I miss my alone time? Yes. Do I cherish late nights after they've gone to bed and any opportunity I get to take a long hot bath? Of course. Do I often wish that someone else could be here to help them out and that I could just visit or come to dinner once in a while? Most definitely. And I feel horrible about it. Because they have given me a lot.
I know that in spite of the parental guidance I've received that I did not turn out they way they thought I would. You never know what your going to get with your kids. I imagine it's even more of a gamble when you adopt! But on the days when my mom says, "You're a really good person, Michele" and the moments when my dad says he's proud of me, I know that there's still hope for me to make the mark and do right by them. I choose not to think about what I would do without them. I must do a better job of enjoying my time with them. But a little apartment around the corner might be in order!
Day 11: Keeping Up
Over the last couple of years, I have spent a lot of time catching up with old friends, former classmates and former co-workers. Two summers ago, my high school classmates gathered for a weekend to celebrate the 20th anniversary of our graduations. Last summer, my grade school classmates and I celebrated our 25th reunion. On the first Friday of every month, I have lunch with Monique, one of my former Purina co-workers. And this week, I will get to see a handful of my other former co-workers.
There is great comfort in surrounding yourself with people who have walked the formative steps of life with you. The only folks who remember sitting beside you on carpet squares in Mrs. Droste's kindergarten class in 1976 or repelling down the wall at Forty Legends in 6th grade are the people who experienced it with you. The only ones who know how nervous you were moments before taking the stage as the Mother Abbess in The Sound of Music or what it felt like to be the first class to walk through the giant wooden ring (courtesy of Mr. Scotino) are the people who were there. The only ones who endured legal meetings and client meetings and 50 hour work weeks are the people who did it with you.
Greater comfort comes in reuniting or keeping up with those people across a lifetime and discovering that in some ways time stands still. All change is not scary. In fact, often times, life changes bring you close to people you never thought you'd let past your emotional walls or who you had nothing in common with or who you thought you would ever be friends with.
I count myself one of the luckiest people in the world because I have the same best friend today that I had when I was 2 years old. (We survived arguments over my Andy Gibb album & cans of Aqua net.) I frequently have dinner with groups of women with whom I went to high school which always results in hours of side-splitting laughter and a couple of times each year I get to see grade school classmates who were an integral part of the first 14 years of my life. Also, in the last few years, my teammates from college and I have started getting together again. That is certainly a time in my life which nobody else can understand or relate to except them. And I have left every job with at least one life-long friend who has been a part of the important dates in my life since.
Keeping up with all of them is not easy but the reward that comes in making the effort cannot be measured. Making time and making sure that too much time doesn't pass between connections sometimes seems impossible. But keeping up keeps me honest. It keeps me grounded. And it keeps reminding me that there are some amazing people in this world and I am lucky to call them "friend."
There is great comfort in surrounding yourself with people who have walked the formative steps of life with you. The only folks who remember sitting beside you on carpet squares in Mrs. Droste's kindergarten class in 1976 or repelling down the wall at Forty Legends in 6th grade are the people who experienced it with you. The only ones who know how nervous you were moments before taking the stage as the Mother Abbess in The Sound of Music or what it felt like to be the first class to walk through the giant wooden ring (courtesy of Mr. Scotino) are the people who were there. The only ones who endured legal meetings and client meetings and 50 hour work weeks are the people who did it with you.
Greater comfort comes in reuniting or keeping up with those people across a lifetime and discovering that in some ways time stands still. All change is not scary. In fact, often times, life changes bring you close to people you never thought you'd let past your emotional walls or who you had nothing in common with or who you thought you would ever be friends with.
I count myself one of the luckiest people in the world because I have the same best friend today that I had when I was 2 years old. (We survived arguments over my Andy Gibb album & cans of Aqua net.) I frequently have dinner with groups of women with whom I went to high school which always results in hours of side-splitting laughter and a couple of times each year I get to see grade school classmates who were an integral part of the first 14 years of my life. Also, in the last few years, my teammates from college and I have started getting together again. That is certainly a time in my life which nobody else can understand or relate to except them. And I have left every job with at least one life-long friend who has been a part of the important dates in my life since.
Keeping up with all of them is not easy but the reward that comes in making the effort cannot be measured. Making time and making sure that too much time doesn't pass between connections sometimes seems impossible. But keeping up keeps me honest. It keeps me grounded. And it keeps reminding me that there are some amazing people in this world and I am lucky to call them "friend."
Day 10: Painting My Own Escape
When I was a kid, I had a pad of paper & a pencil nearby most of the time. I loved to sketch out pictures of my future. I was a dreamer in every sense of the word. As I got older and got a taste of the real world, I stopped sketching but I eventually fell in love with painting. I am not trained. I paint only with acrylics. I can copy design if I am asked but I prefer to paint what I feel or see in my own mind. Most of my painting ends up on children's furniture or some kid's bedroom wall. It is intensely time consuming and I could never make a living from it because I could never charge what it's really worth. And I wouldn't want to because it's my escape from work and other stresses. 
My nephew, who is my pride and joy, takes after me in many ways. I know that seems impossible since my sister and I are adopted but it's true. He loves to cook and enjoys painting as well. As often as possible, Kirk & I run off to paint pottery or a lonely, blank canvas that's been sitting in the garage. Sharing this hobby with him brings me ultimate happiness. And his appreciation for the arts, at only eight years old, is admirable.
It's important to have something that you do. Something that you enjoy. It has to be something that allows you time away from work or your kids or your husband. You have to be able to paint your own escape to "me time," to explore your passion and to maintain your sanity. Holding on to something you like to do brings a sense of fulfillment to your life which, in turn, allows you to keep giving to those around you.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Day 9: Let Him Fly
Dear every guy I've ever dated,
I'm writing you to say good-bye. For some of you, it's been a while since we've spoken. So this might seem a little silly. But I think it's time to end our relationships for good, permanently, without looking back or wondering if you'll ever change or if maybe our timing was just bad and if you'll just show back up again some day. It's time to say good-bye. Not farewell or see you later or until we meet again but... good-bye.
I have an ex who once said, "exes are exes for a reason" and I always thought that was ridiculous. I mean, even though you are no longer dating a guy or in a relationship with him, he still has some redeeming qualities. You might not love him but you had to at least like him at some point so you could be friends with him, right? Wrong. My ex, who is most definitely an ex for a reason and who was rarely right, had nailed this theory (& many other women while we were together). He was right on.
We experienced the unforgettable at times. You told me that you thought I was pretty and it was the first time I heard it from anyone other than my parents. What an enchanting moment! That first kiss was delightful. There's nothing like being kissed by someone you think is so dreamy. The butterflies feel like they will burst up from your belly and fly out of your mouth! I may have pulled the wilting pedals off the flowers you sent me but I did it so I could save them and preserve the beautiful scent forever. Drives in the rain, watching planes take off, stargazing... All unforgettable. You helped me grow and figure out who I am. You taught me that I am strong and capable and smart. You showed me that I can do anything I set my mind to and that I don't need to settle for less. Ever again. You taught me that the old saying that "men don't change" is a lie. Men do change. For the right woman... And I clearly wasn't the right woman for you.
And we experience some regrettable times, most of which I'd rather not recap for the masses. (You lyin', cheatin', lazy, broke, unreliable so & so's are lucky this time.) You made me cry at times because I wondered why I couldn't be good enough or sexy enough or patient enough for you. Sometimes I felt like I had to take your crap because I didn't want to be alone. You helped me find the resolve to never let a man lay a hand on me. Ever again. And you led me to the realization that good enough, sexy enough and patient enough are all measures that you never even worry about when you're with the right guy.
So, again, it's time for our final good-bye. It's time for me to let you fly.
I'm writing you to say good-bye. For some of you, it's been a while since we've spoken. So this might seem a little silly. But I think it's time to end our relationships for good, permanently, without looking back or wondering if you'll ever change or if maybe our timing was just bad and if you'll just show back up again some day. It's time to say good-bye. Not farewell or see you later or until we meet again but... good-bye.
I have an ex who once said, "exes are exes for a reason" and I always thought that was ridiculous. I mean, even though you are no longer dating a guy or in a relationship with him, he still has some redeeming qualities. You might not love him but you had to at least like him at some point so you could be friends with him, right? Wrong. My ex, who is most definitely an ex for a reason and who was rarely right, had nailed this theory (& many other women while we were together). He was right on.
We experienced the unforgettable at times. You told me that you thought I was pretty and it was the first time I heard it from anyone other than my parents. What an enchanting moment! That first kiss was delightful. There's nothing like being kissed by someone you think is so dreamy. The butterflies feel like they will burst up from your belly and fly out of your mouth! I may have pulled the wilting pedals off the flowers you sent me but I did it so I could save them and preserve the beautiful scent forever. Drives in the rain, watching planes take off, stargazing... All unforgettable. You helped me grow and figure out who I am. You taught me that I am strong and capable and smart. You showed me that I can do anything I set my mind to and that I don't need to settle for less. Ever again. You taught me that the old saying that "men don't change" is a lie. Men do change. For the right woman... And I clearly wasn't the right woman for you.
And we experience some regrettable times, most of which I'd rather not recap for the masses. (You lyin', cheatin', lazy, broke, unreliable so & so's are lucky this time.) You made me cry at times because I wondered why I couldn't be good enough or sexy enough or patient enough for you. Sometimes I felt like I had to take your crap because I didn't want to be alone. You helped me find the resolve to never let a man lay a hand on me. Ever again. And you led me to the realization that good enough, sexy enough and patient enough are all measures that you never even worry about when you're with the right guy.
So, again, it's time for our final good-bye. It's time for me to let you fly.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Day 8: Are We There Yet?
Keeping it short and sweet this time!
I am looking forward to being 40. It's the beginning of a new decade and a new chapter in my life. My 20's were wild and filled with exploration. I rarely slept and I struggled to feel comfortable in my own skin. My 30's arrived right on time. I was relieved to turn 30, to finally know who I was and become more decisive about what I wanted in my future. Half way through that decade, I learned the value in being well-rested and wearing comfortable shoes. Now, 40 is SO close I can almost taste it. I am like a kid in the car on the way to Disney World.
ARE WE THERE YET?
I am looking forward to being 40. It's the beginning of a new decade and a new chapter in my life. My 20's were wild and filled with exploration. I rarely slept and I struggled to feel comfortable in my own skin. My 30's arrived right on time. I was relieved to turn 30, to finally know who I was and become more decisive about what I wanted in my future. Half way through that decade, I learned the value in being well-rested and wearing comfortable shoes. Now, 40 is SO close I can almost taste it. I am like a kid in the car on the way to Disney World.
ARE WE THERE YET?
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Day 7: All Things Connect
Maybe I'm a peace-loving hippy. Or maybe it's just that Native American spirituality pumping through my veins. But...
I believe that good begets good. I believe that we reap what we sow-- and not just because the Bible tells me so but because I know from experience. I believe in karma, which will make my Christian friends cringe.
I also believe that hatred festers. I believe that on a daily basis we perpetuate divisions in our lives, in this country and in our world by pouring salt in the wounds of others which, in turn, causes hatred to fester.
I believe that the more we talk about the differences between black & white & red & yellow, between Christian, Jew & Muslim, between Republican & Democrat, the bigger those differences seem and the more power we give them to widen the divide between us. I believe we should never lump a group of people together and decide to love or hate them.
I believe we should acknowledge the past, respect history and then join hands to move forward into the future. I believe that we should treat others as we'd like to be treated and that includes how we speak about others, our attitudes towards them when they aren't around and the thoughts that go through our heads but never escape our lips.
I am not perfect. I would never claim to be. But I believe I try to spread love and kindness. And I try to surround myself with others who do as well, no matter their race, religion, economic status, political party, sexual orientation, age or gender. The only difference I will not tolerate in my life is hatefulness. It's contagious. I believe that we should get beside ourselves and take a long hard look at what we are passing on to those around us.
Chief Seattle once said, "Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect." He was speaking of how we treat the earth, our world around us. But it applies to how we treat other people as well.
Remember. Please. "All things connect."
I believe that good begets good. I believe that we reap what we sow-- and not just because the Bible tells me so but because I know from experience. I believe in karma, which will make my Christian friends cringe.
I also believe that hatred festers. I believe that on a daily basis we perpetuate divisions in our lives, in this country and in our world by pouring salt in the wounds of others which, in turn, causes hatred to fester.
I believe that the more we talk about the differences between black & white & red & yellow, between Christian, Jew & Muslim, between Republican & Democrat, the bigger those differences seem and the more power we give them to widen the divide between us. I believe we should never lump a group of people together and decide to love or hate them.
I believe we should acknowledge the past, respect history and then join hands to move forward into the future. I believe that we should treat others as we'd like to be treated and that includes how we speak about others, our attitudes towards them when they aren't around and the thoughts that go through our heads but never escape our lips.
I am not perfect. I would never claim to be. But I believe I try to spread love and kindness. And I try to surround myself with others who do as well, no matter their race, religion, economic status, political party, sexual orientation, age or gender. The only difference I will not tolerate in my life is hatefulness. It's contagious. I believe that we should get beside ourselves and take a long hard look at what we are passing on to those around us.
Chief Seattle once said, "Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect." He was speaking of how we treat the earth, our world around us. But it applies to how we treat other people as well.
Remember. Please. "All things connect."
Monday, January 24, 2011
Day 6: Your Not the ONLY One with a Birthday
Yes, mother, I know. I am not the only one on the face of the earth with a birthday at the end of February. My sister has a birthday too.
Much to my "little" sister's dismay, we have shared a birthday for the last 35 years. She was sort of my 4th birthday present. My parents adopted her and brought her home 8 weeks after my birthday in 1975. I was over-joyed to have a sister and my excitement multiplied when I found out that her birthday was the day after mine.
What are the chances that you can adopt two kids, four years apart, and their birthdays will be just a day apart?
But this year, I'm 40. I think it's the first time I thought for a very brief moment that I might not want to share my birthday with anyone else. No offense to my sister of course.
But... my mom is right. I am not the only one with a birthday at the end of February or on the 27th exactly, for that matter.
John Dryden, who I went to grade school with, Josh Groban & Ralph Nader will be celebrating this coming February 27th too. And for years, I shared my day with Elizabeth Taylor.
So, this year, I will share my day with my sister for the 36th time. And my mom will not have to remind me!
Much to my "little" sister's dismay, we have shared a birthday for the last 35 years. She was sort of my 4th birthday present. My parents adopted her and brought her home 8 weeks after my birthday in 1975. I was over-joyed to have a sister and my excitement multiplied when I found out that her birthday was the day after mine.
What are the chances that you can adopt two kids, four years apart, and their birthdays will be just a day apart?
But this year, I'm 40. I think it's the first time I thought for a very brief moment that I might not want to share my birthday with anyone else. No offense to my sister of course.
But... my mom is right. I am not the only one with a birthday at the end of February or on the 27th exactly, for that matter.
John Dryden, who I went to grade school with, Josh Groban & Ralph Nader will be celebrating this coming February 27th too. And for years, I shared my day with Elizabeth Taylor.
So, this year, I will share my day with my sister for the 36th time. And my mom will not have to remind me!
Day 5: Good Girlfriends
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| My high school friends & I outside the old arena after a Steamers soccer game. |
For years, I have preached the benefits of a woman's relationships with other women. And there have been moments, in the midst of my sermonizing, that I have been betrayed by or treated very badly by other women but those experiences do not change my stance. Women need other women in their lives.
There have been scientific studies that have shown that having positive relationships with other women improves a woman's health. A Harvard study suggested that female friends improves quality of life by delaying the onset of stress-related health problems common to women and increased a woman's ability to deal with painful situations.
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| My college friends with a few of the guys. |
I have great friends. It's not because I always deserve them but it is because I have allowed myself to make new friends at every juncture of my life.
For those who are not convinced, here are my top twelve reasons that female friendships are important:
1. Only a woman will commiserate with you over cramps one minute, which seems girly and weak; and join you on the adventure of a lifetime the next like holding an alligator or flying 40 MPH up the side of a mountain on a snowmobile, which is awesomely brave and womanly.
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| My friend of almost 40 years, Diane. |
2. Female friends will sit up with you all night in your new apartment because you're too afraid to be there alone. And they will paint a wall in that apartment with one hand while unpacking your kitchen with the other.
3. Chicks will see chick flicks with you because they want to. Not because they hope it will earn them points.
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| Cindy, Christy, Lori, Kate, Heather & I on our girls' trip to Colorado. |
4. Good girlfriends will not only take a road trip with you but they will let you listen to Richard Marx or Show Tunes or whatever music will make you happy.
5. Women will tell you that skirt makes your butt look big. They will tell you that you can get those adorable shoes at Payless.
6. They will share other secrets with you too like which hair removal products work best and where you can find those bras that provide support on the sides, suck in the back fat and lift & gather in the front.
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| Tiffany & I standing in line for my audition for America's Got Talent. |
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| Cindy & I on her 40th birthday. |
8. Female friends will support you on the way up, catch you on the way down & encourage you to try again until you succeed.
9. Women travel in packs. Yes, that's a good thing. Haven't you heard that there is strength in numbers? There's safety in numbers too. And, if you go to the bathroom alone and there's no toilet paper in your stall... Well, that never happens when you go with a friend!
10. Other women will go on a diet with you and they will go with you on a mission in the middle of the night to find chocolate cake.
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| My sister, Denise, and I a few days ago. |
11. Female friends will drive by your crush's house with you. Over and over again. And twice on Saturday nights.
12. Women come in all shapes and sizes and colors. And the personality & talent variety is amazing. The reason that is so great is because you are not limited to your shallow attractions when picking out your female friends like you are when choosing a mate. AND can have as many as you want. They can come from work or live in your neighborhood. You can meet them at school or church or the gym. They can be your sisters or your cousins or your aunts or your sister's cousin's aunt. There are no rules. And that is so very liberating.
Now go hug your friends. Or find some. It's good for you!
Day 4: Holding On
Letting go. I'm not good at it. In fact the only thing I am worse at is saying no. But you reach a point in your life when you wake up and you stop trying to convince yourself that you'd be ok if he'd call or if he'd show up. And you stop waiting on her to like you or to ask you to be her BFF. One day, your happiness and completeness and fulfillment and success and value no longer depends on anyone other than... YOU. But finding your way to the place where holding on transforms to letting go can be a long and painful process.
Shortly after the new year, I performed my annual cell phone cleaning. Scrolling through my contact list, I paused on a name now and again, weighed and measured the relationship & that person's role in my life and then decided whether or not to hit DELETE. It was the most dramatic cell phone wipe that I've ever experienced because I had been holding on to people who had let go of me a long time ago.
Oprah Winfrey once said, "think about any attachments that are depleting your emotional reserves and consider letting them go."
I'd say the same. What is prohibiting your happiness? Who is distracting you from your life's possibilities? What are you doing that is blocking your blessings? Might be time to let go. Start with cleaning out your phone. Get the tough stuff over with first!
Shortly after the new year, I performed my annual cell phone cleaning. Scrolling through my contact list, I paused on a name now and again, weighed and measured the relationship & that person's role in my life and then decided whether or not to hit DELETE. It was the most dramatic cell phone wipe that I've ever experienced because I had been holding on to people who had let go of me a long time ago.
Oprah Winfrey once said, "think about any attachments that are depleting your emotional reserves and consider letting them go."
I'd say the same. What is prohibiting your happiness? Who is distracting you from your life's possibilities? What are you doing that is blocking your blessings? Might be time to let go. Start with cleaning out your phone. Get the tough stuff over with first!
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Day 3: Hopeless Jock
By the time I was eight years old, I played volleyball, basketball and softball. My good fortune allowed me to play two of those three sports all the way through college and for many years after.
But just over twelve years ago, I was in a car accident that changed my life. I walked away but soon after began experiencing pain. Eight months after that accident, on my drive to work, I sneezed and triggered the implosion of a disc in my lower back. Instantly, I was paralyzed on my lower half. Every muscle from my waist to my toes contracted in a panic and four hours later, as I laid in the emergency room, the damage was not only done but some of it was irreversible.
Doctors performed emergency back surgery and, for weeks, I laid on the couch watching the Food Network and MTV. In the following months, I regained some sensation in the lower half of my body but my left leg never recovered. The muscle atrophied and I lost the use of most of my left foot.
For years, I stopped trying to build my strength back up and get back to normal. But since I've been working toward becoming the best me I can before I turn 40, I've been testing my limits again and... I've failed many times. Most recently, I failed a zumba. It actually brought me to tears. It wasn't about the zumba. I was sad that things just aren't like they used to be. And they never will be.
My God, time flies. It seems like yesterday I was this young, athletic jock, hopelessly addicted to all things sports. Now (*gasp*) I'm chasing down 40 and just doing whatever this aging body will allow.
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