Of Birthdays, Flying Without a Net and the Audacity of Hope

 

Hey Kids!

Dig, if you will, this picture:

Tomorrow is my 52nd birthday.

 Holy Crap!


So.... Here are some thoughts on that fun fact:



What a long, strange trip it's been...

I've managed to do some pretty cool stuff in 52 years. I carried and raised some gorgeous, gifted, smart, hilariously funny, and really, really, ridiculously good looking humans. They're happy and successful people in their own right who are now raising their own families in their own creative and spectacular fashion. So there's that.

I've gained and lost fortunes, been fat, been thin, been fit and strong. Won some battles. Learned some excruciatingly hard lessons. Traveled to some amazing and beautiful places on this big blue marble called Earth. Grieved the loss of loved ones. Celebrated the triumphs of others. Fallen in and out of love, or at least infatuation a few times...Fallen on my behind a thousand times and gotten back up when everything in me said "Don't. You can't. It's too hard. Just lie here. You're exhausted. You're alone. You're too scared. Stay down." That voice is a dream slayer. 
And I can't seem to stop dreaming.
So I keep getting up.
Call it an exercise in the audacity of hope.

Adventure in the great wide somewhere...

So here I sit on the edge of 52 looking over into the next phase of my life.
Wondering why I didn't write this sort of thing at 50? That's the big one, right?
Here's why: When I was nineteen, my mother was 52. 
She was 52 when she went into Bryn Mawr Hospital for treatment of cardiomyopathy, atrial fibrillation and blood clots, developed pneumonia/congestive heart failure and never came out. 
At 52, she transitioned, crossed over, went home, whatever you want to call it.  I watched her die looking into my father's eyes - and life as I knew it changed forever.

So what does that have to do with me at 52? I'm fit, strong, in ridiculously good health, routinely mistaken for ten years younger than I am. How is this relevant? 

See, there's no roadmap from here. I'm winging it. Although, truth be told, I've been flying without a safety net pretty much since that day in October, when I was nineteen and everything changed.  
There's a part of me that's angry with her. 
I know- It's not cool to be mad at the dead, to speak ill of the dead. But the fact remains that there'a a part of me that is flat out angry at her. Because she knew she had a congenital heart disease. She knew. And she smoked. She didn't eat well. She didn't do even the minimal exercise she was allowed, which would have strengthened her and kept her with us. 
 So she checked out at 52, when I was nineteen and I still needed her. 
I still needed her. 


When I was younger I did the same. I smoked, despite watching practically everyone in my family drop dead from heart disease. I ate like crap and comforted myself with food. I didn't take care of me. I was stupid. I was scared and depressed. My kids saved my life a hundred times over just by their very existence. I gained and lost a ton of weight. It wasn't until I was 45 and my granddaughter, Marley looked up at me with her gorgeous eyes that I made a firm decision that I was not checking out. My kids may have missed the grandmother experience, but my grandbabies would not.  I did my first 5k obstacle run at 46.

That's why I'm committed to fitness and helping others achieve their weight loss and fitness goals. That's why I bore you with endless workout and inspiration posts on all of my social media. 
Because it's too important to *not* check out on people who need you. You may not even realize how much they need you. You never know who your smile or kind word is affecting. The lady you chatted up in Costco may have been despairing until you told her how lovely she looked today. The girl at the CVS with the three screaming kids may have felt totally alone until you said, "Boy, do I remember those days- It gets better, I promise." 



So what's next? 
Who knows. 
There's no road-map from here.
Let's wing it. 
Have Adventures. 
Fly without a net.
Love people.
Be present.
You and I are the Ambassadors of the Audacity of Hope.

Procrastination - Why Do We Do It? And How Do We STOP!?

 

And haven't we all been Scarlet O'Hara at some point or another?

"I'll write that paper tomorrow." 

"I have three whole days before that report is due." 

"I'll just watch one episode of Orange is the New Black." 

"OK , OK right after I watch all my friends' Snapchat stories." 

"I'll just check my Facebook for a minute."

"After all, tomorrow is another day..."

The situation becomes dire when we put on the hoop skirt and take up residence at Tara permanently.

As a serial procrastinator, I embarked upon a journey to discover what makes people (me) procrastinate and how to kick the "I'll get to it later" demon to the proverbial curb.

Here's what I discovered at the shallow end of the pool:
According to Tuckman, Abry, and Smith, there are key reasons why people procrastinate:

1. Not knowing what needs to be done
2. Not knowing how to do something
3. Not caring if it gets done or not
4. Not caring when something gets done
5. Not feeling in the mood to do it
6. Being in the habit of waiting until the last minute
7. Believing that you work better under pressure
8. Thinking that you can finish it at the last minute
9. Lacking the initiative to get started
10. Blaming sickness or poor health
11. Waiting for the right moment
12. Needing time to think about the task
13. Delaying one task in favor of working on another   

Those are all plausible, if superficial reasons for procrastination, the symptoms, if you will.
I was after the causes, the root beliefs that would make someone engage in a behavior that is nothing but destructive. I found a zillion explanations. Once I'd weeded out the BS excuses, and the over simplified, overly judgemental answers, here are the top three causes of chronic procrastination, in my opinion:

1.  Family -Procrastinators are made not born. Procrastination is learned in the family milieu, but not directly. It is one response to an authoritarian parenting style. Having a harsh, controlling parent keeps children from developing the ability to regulate themselves, from internalizing their own intentions and then learning to act on them. Procrastination can even be a form of rebellion, one of the few forms available under such circumstances. What's more, under those household conditions, procrastinators turn more to friends than to parents for support, and their friends may reinforce procrastination because they tend to be tolerant of their excuses.
2.  Fear - This tends to fall into two categories.
   • The avoiders, who may be avoiding fear of failure or even fear of success, but in either case are very concerned with what others think of them; they would rather have others think they lack effort than ability.
   •  The decisional procrastinators, who cannot make a decision. Not making a decision absolves procrastinators of responsibility for the outcome of events 
3. Medical/Clinical diagnosis - Some very real conditions are co-indicated with chronic procrastination, ADHD, OCD, anxiety and clinical depression included. In addition to medical treatment for these conditions, more and better time management tools and repetition are absolutely crucial to overcoming procrastination based on chemical imbalance.

 BONUS:

 

 The apostrophe...um, I mean EPIPHANY is this:
Very often when we are procrastinating, our subconscious is telling us that we are engaged in a task, a job, a relationship, that we actually DO NOT WANT. On any level. We tell ourselves lies like, "Oh well, everyone has to do things they don't want to do.", while our soul screams out for us to change.

Chronic procrastination is a result of being in one of two states: Fear or rebellion. (whether conscious or unconscious). We are either afraid, be it of success or failure, or we are in rebellion against something our subconscious is rejecting. People who are engaging in this behavior are not lazy, crazy, stupid or uncaring.

So How Do We STOP?

First - beating yourself up is not useful. That can bring on fear paralysis which only exacerbates the problem. Not to mention, other people are probably already beating  you up enough. "You're so smart, if only you applied  yourself!" 
(Every kid who grew up with undiagnosed ADHD recognizes that old chestnut.)

Some suggestions for breaking the habit:

• Recognize that change is a process and understanding your own MO is crucial. Why are you uncomfortable about digging into a project or changing your behavior? Write down the reasons.
• You know yourself. What diversions or Scarlet O'Hara behaviors do you usually adopt?
• Then question those. If you say "later is better," ask yourself why. And why do you need to be better to do this? Save the better state for a better task. You need to recognize the BS story you tell yourself!
• When you feel actual physical resistance, when every bone in your body is resisting the task, force yourself to put one foot in front of the other. This is similar to overcoming irrational fears.
• Break up the task into chunks. Do one a day. If it's your taxes, call the accountant one day. Then find all the income statements the next. Then divide the receipts into categories the next. And so on. I always feel I can do anything for five minutes. So maybe set a timer. Once you start, you'll find that you go over five minutes and may finish the job.
• Gain support and accountability.  Set up a buddy system. This increases your chances of doing the task. Just be sure to choose someone supportive and positive for your accountability buddy.
• If you feel the physical sensations of resistance- make it a "must do now" priority.
• Set a reward for yourself once the job is done.

If every bone in your body is still screaming NO? 
Ask yourself if, in the end, this is something you need to do.
Sometimes you need to delegate.

 

When Did I Become HER?!? (of Men, Unintentional Polygamy and a Whole Lot of WTF?)

Quick story.
OK so, I was getting dressed for my son-in-law's graduation from law school.
I was in full on Main Line Mom Mode.
Calvin Klein navy sheath dress: Check.
Pumps: Check.
Pearls: Check
Poker straight blowout: Check
Kenneth Cole clutch: Check
I looked in the mirror and thought: "Who in holy, blazing hell is THAT???"
My mother. That's who that is.
Not me. Never me. I'm a tree hugging, hippy-dippy, incense burning, yoga-loving, we-are-our-brother's-keeper, artistic, liberal-independent (ok I voted for Reagan once upon a time, but it was my first time and everyone was doing it!)

It startled me.
I got to thinking. "No, that country club princess is me too." She's in there.

And so is the glamazon, sex goddess of stage and screen. She shares quarters with the super-nerdy history buff who can tell you more about ancient religious customs than you ever wanted to hear. Like, EVER. They live right down the hall from the hard working single mom, who doesn't have time to bake cookies for the bakesale because she's got two god damned jobs, so will you just give her five minutes of quiet, please?!? Right next door is the girl who just wants to sing with the band and dance all night and stumble in at four in the morning with tired feet and a head full of adventurous stories to tell. She likes to have breakfast with the domestic goddess who loves to cook and will feed you until you are fit to burst (and make you a Tupperware of leftovers to take home, because you never know, you might want a nibble later.) She takes care of everyone, especially adventure girl, who does things like ziplining down volcanoes in Costa Rica and running off to Paris for her BFF's 50th birthday. And they all sit down at the table with Writer Chick to sort it all out.
They're all in there. In me. Along with multiple others.


No wonder the poor men in my life have been confused. They were involved in a polygamous relationship without their knowledge. Feel bad for those guys.
Because all of those women, in greater or lesser degrees, require acknowledgement. The biggest relationship fails I've had- and there have been a few - have been because the person with whom I was relating kept trying to fit me in to a category. A box. A pigeon hole. It's suffocating and then I am forced to flee. I have no choice. There is no oxygen in there.
When I've met someone who 'gets' my gypsy soul, (there have been exactly two), despite great love, or at least the potential for artistic power-couplehood, they end up having a gypsy soul of their very own and can't stay. (annnnnd cue broken heart....or at least bruised heart).

My father, who was the smartest human I've ever met, once told me "Tootsie, in relationships you need a string and a kite. If you have two strings they just lay on the ground and no one flies. If you have two kites, they both fly off into space and get lost. But when you have a kite and a string, the string holds the kite steady and the kite lifts the string as far in the air as the string lets it. And thank God for your mother because she's my string. Get yourself a string, TootsiePop. You are a kite."
He wasn't wrong. He got me.
 

 


If I ever find someone who gets me like that....I'll love him so hard his head will spin.
And he'll never be bored.
Ever.

2014 Post-Mortem...and Forward Motion

So I didn't name last year.
2012 was the Year of Making.
2013 was the Year of Manifesting/Publishing
I didn't name last year.


I think, partly as a result of being nameless, last year was a haphazard whirlwind of big changes. If I had to name 2014 retroactively, I think it might have been the Year of Mayhem. I wasn't entirely unfocused but my focus was rather like a light house beam, spinning around in a spiral to highlight different things at different times. As a result, everything changed in 2014, just not in any kind of linear fashion. 

 Everything changed. 

My residence- a significant upgrade. And I now live alone, which has its pros and cons, but for the most part, works beautifully for me. My job - In addition to my writing, I now manage a rad team of beauties who make the world more beautiful - and more importantly, help women realize their own unique beauty.  My children are wonderfully successful and happy in the main. I wrote and performed a cabaret that I am developing into a one woman show.  I played Marie Lombardi (wife of legendary football coach Vince Lombardi) on stage, as well as the comic book villain version of myself on another stage. I became a BeachBody coach and committed to helping other people be/stay healthy.  There's still a part of me that whispers in my ear - "You haven't done enough, accomplished enough." What's enough, I wonder? What did I miss?

-I didn't write every day. I wrote, but writing is like water - if you want it to flow, you have to turn on the faucet regularly. I had some self-inflicted plumbing issues in 2014. 
-I didn't care for my health properly. I turned 50 in September. And while I'm pretty fit, I didn't take care of some important baseline medical stuff. 
- I let sporadic time management derail some important progress, and allowed myself too much tech distraction. 

So let's name 2015... The Year of Motion.
Forward Motion- not haphazardly,  but rather on purpose.

Part of that is going to be blogging more. In the past I have focused on blogging about things to help others. If something inspired me, I'd pass it along in the hopes of inspiring someone else.  The funny thing about that is the things that actually inspired people were almost always different than my expectation. It was a continual surprise.
So I'm just going to tell my stories. Tell my truth. And continue to be surprised by what moves people.  Forward motion.

Another move forward will be to protect my health better. Get my behind to the doc's more often and get my important testing done (mammogram and colonoscopy etc.) Because all the fitness in the world can't cure cancer.

The final vehicle for motion is better time management.  
Less distraction, more presence. 
Being here, now. 
Doing the work in front of me. 
Not forecasting or projecting. 
Not rehashing the past. 
Just gifting myself and others with my mindful presence.

Here's to 2015!

The Year of Motion!

Get Real.

OR

How Being Less Than 100% Authentic Can Kill Your Mojo

 

I'm a pretty authentic chick, for the most part.
That said, when I love somebody I morph into a somewhat "permeable membrane", to quote Elizabeth Gilbert.  I so want to give my beloved - be it friend, children, or lover -  everything that would make them happy that I frequently land myself in the poorhouse, emotionally and literally.
I don't like to think of myself as a people pleaser and I'm not exactly being inauthentic....it's just that I leave out the ugly bits sometimes. I've historically let it go when my needs or boundaries aren't honored.  It's not worth fighting about.


Except that it is.
Worth fighting for, that is.
Now, I am fortunate that I have some real and true friends who will call me on this behavior when they catch it. Thank god for that. When my core group tells me "Your light is going out." "You've lost your mojo." and the fatal "I didn't want to say anything but..." I know it's time to act.
To dig deep and get real.
So I dig. I excavate and dust off all the stuff that I've buried down in the dirt and the muck in order to keep everyone's life pretty.



Do you know what happens then?
Honesty. I vomit hardcore, brutal honesty like I spent the last night on a Jack Daniels bender. It's not pretty. It frequently stinks. It can be really, quite awful. But it purges me. It cleanses me of the fakery and forces me to be 100 percent authentic. Afterward I feel lightened, relieved... the way throwing up is a relief after hours and hours of sweaty nausea. And then everyone says "Thank God, you're back".

There has to be a better way.

 So I'm trying the following three things.

 

1. Tell the unvarnished truth. - Even when it's hard and scary. Even when it hurts like hell.

2. Insist on boundaries being respected. -  By everyone. All the time. No exceptions.

3. Do not engage in toxic conversations. - Nope. Not at all.  Kindly say "I'm not doing this with you" and walk away.

I figure taking these three steps along with my daily meditation and spiritual practice will keep me from allowing myself to violate my Self.

What is your check and balance for keeping yourself on track and 100% authentic?
Feel free to comment below.

Namaste.