I know when I start leaving car doors open, I’m experiencing extreme overload. Several times, over the past several weeks, my neighbors have discovered the same scene: [Read more...]
strength, courage and wisdom
If I could create Life: The Soundtrack this song would no doubt be on it.
Yesterday I had the honor of sharing my story on Jennie’s blog… a journey that took me 3,000 miles away– but ultimately right back home. Today I got to pick Jennie’s mid-week music snack. I chose a song I played over and over again during that life-changing road trip. I still listen to it today, when I need the courage to step out on faith.
Need some soulful inspiration? Head over to The Sassy Steel Magnolia now.
MyMeWriMo
Today marks the end of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo.) During NaNoWriMo, writers around the world pound on their keyboards in a just-for-fun race to complete a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. The purpose? Quantity not Quality. You’ll find this on the NaNoWriMo website:
“Make no mistake: You will be writing a lot of crap. And that’s a good thing. By forcing yourself to write so intensely, you are giving yourself permission to make mistakes. To forgo the endless tweaking and editing and just create. To build without tearing down.”
I didn’t participate in NaNoWriMo but now I’m asking myself, why not? One of the main purposes of this blog is to take you along on my journey of writing a book. I have a couple of chapters roughed out, but that’s as far as it’s gotten. Okay, I did have a baby this summer so I’m not going to beat myself up about it. But here are some other reasons I haven’t been working on the book:
Perfectionism (what if I write it and it sucks?) Fear (what if I write it and it sucks?)
Did you think I was going to say lack of time? Sure, my hands are plenty full. But each time I sit down to work on the book, here’s what I do:
Check email. Check Facebook. Check Twitter. Go to the fridge and grab a Diet Coke. Think of a cute little blog post and write that instead.
The truth is, I love blogging and writing short essays. I get instant gratification. Many times, I can see the story and the point I want to make before I even begin typing. I love the clarity and certainty of it.
There’s a book inside me. But the story is messy. Writing it is going to require a little more risk. A little more faith. And I have no idea where it’s going to lead. But here’s the real truth about me: If I don’t give myself a deadline, I will never know. Without a deadline, “Write Book” will remain at the bottom of my long list of things to do.
So here’s the deal: I have declared December MyMeWriMo. My Memoir Writing Month. For the next 31 days, I’m committing myself to the rough draft. I’m giving myself permission to write a lot of crap.
I’ll keep you posted.
you have to believe to receive
Here’s a little story I shared over at Robin’s and Jodi’s blog this week, as part of our “holiday memories blog tour.” As I recalled a special time in my childhood, I couldn’t help but think about Charlie Brown’s angst that Christmastime was too commercial. On this Black Friday, as the official shopping season begins, I’ll embrace the hustle and bustle AND what this time of year truly means to me. Thanksgiving may be over, but I continue to count my blessings.
For as long as I can remember, I have understood and celebrated the true meaning of Christmas. But even as a little girl, I noticed how Santa seemed to upstage the baby Jesus. The Son of God born of a virgin in a manger… a miracle I never doubted. But ol’ St. Nick had a Hollywood type of charm, and by Christmas Eve, he had stolen the show.
My dad would ratchet up my excitement, pointing to the red glow in the sky (which was probably pollution). “Hey, Angie, look! There’s Santa Clause! He’s coming.” How did this magical fat man fit all the toys for every boy and girl in the entire world in his sleigh and deliver them in one night? I was awestruck and amazed.
At bedtime, I’d crawl under the covers and lay frozen until dawn. Mom said if Santa caught me peeking, he’d take my toys away. She never told me not to move, but still, I barely breathed.
At the first light of day, I’d dash down the hall and shriek, “He came! He came!” I’d survey my toys and then run into my parent’s room. “Dad, you’ll never guess what Santa brought! A Barbie house, a record player…”
“No way. I don’t believe it,” he answered in a sleepy voice, playing along. Of course, I had no idea Santa had stayed up a little too late, having a few Christmas cocktails. I was a bona fide believer.
When bigger kids told me Santa wasn’t real, my faith wasn’t shaken. “Do you think my parents could afford to buy me a bike, a Brooke Shields Fashion Face, AND a My Pretty Pony? I don’t think so!”
Then one year, the magic went away. I walked in the garage on Christmas evening and saw empty boxes that had previously held my toys. If my toys came from Santa’s workshop, what’s with all the boxes? I asked my mom about it, and the look on her face said everything. Santa’s cover was blown.
From that year on, my parents thought Christmas was Totally Boring. And it was my fault for no longer believing in Santa Clause. I continued to torture my mom as my husband and I dated for five years before getting married, and then waited another five to have kids.
Now, finally. Santa’s back. Christmas is fun again. I’m already rehearsing my speech the day my oldest son discovers it’s all a big sham and ruins it for his younger brother. I will remind them of the true meaning of Christmas. I will share the history of Kris Kringle and how believing in Santa is just a fun way to keep the spirit and magic of the Christmas season alive.
Then, it will be my turn to start counting the days until I get some grandchildren.
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"if today was your last day"
I completely forgot what I set out to blog about today when I read Sherri’s comment on my last post. Sherri lost a child 10 years ago, a heartbreaking reminder to always be present, to live fully in the precious moments we are given. I aspire to keep my eyes open in the “now”, while maintaining unyielding hope and faith in the future.
Losing videos of my son’s birth– which feels a little less traumatic this week than it did last– made me aware of the truth Sherri spoke of in her comment. Life inevitably brings heartbreak– and the thought of “loss” in any form can send my world into a tailspin. But instead of focusing on the somber fact that our daily lives are temporary… perhaps we can focus on how abundant our existence can be when we stop taking our days, our time here, for granted?
If you follow this blog, you know I love song references. I found this song by Nickelback on YouTube… the lyrics are revealed on the screen and may bring you a new perspective as you face your day. If it speaks to you… post your comments!
go geeks!
I learned some hard lessons last week.
When I get really busy, stressed and rushed, I make really BIG mistakes. Like, do a complete system restore on my computer to fix a bug… a restore that returned my computer back to the factory settings. Which would have been fine IF I had properly backed-up my hard drive (which I didn’t.) And I’m keeping it real, I fell to my knees and cried when I realized the videos of baby Blake were gone.
Grief hurts like nothing else.
In the midst of my despair, a couple of friends would not let me accept that the videos were lost forever. I resisted their comments at first. I was like, “Stop. It. REALLY, they are.”
I think that’s when I was kidnapped by aliens, because Friday, I found myself at Best Buy, talking to a member of the Geek Sqaud. Before I knew it, I was scanning my debit card for $60 to have my computer shipped off to a team of experts who can apparently find data that mere mortals have “deleted.”
I do have faith in their abilities, although I’m going to remain cautiously optimistic. Perhaps they’ll find my videos behind some trap door in my hard drive. Perhaps it will cost eleventy million dollars to retrieve. Who knows? But at least I’m doing something.
When I lost the videos, I told myself my memories are constant. I remembered that I am gifted with the ability to write, and one day I’ll be able to share those stories with Blake. I told myself cherished moments are recorded each time I’m fully present, awake and engaged in my life. And I still believe that.
But I also believe if I feel strongly about something, I must take action. I believe in chasing pavements, even if it ultimately, it leads “no where.” I don’t need too many ”things” but if there is a chance some geek can recover my videos, well then, I have to try.
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Chasing pavements
It’s been three months since the birth of baby Blake, and I’m getting more consistent with my workouts. Some days I pretend I’m Fergalicious– you know, up in the gym just working on my fitness. But the other day, my iPod shuffled to Adele’s Chasing Pavements. The gym wasn’t busy, and I sat on the leg press machine for several minutes with all my fluctuating hormones and emotions focused on these words:
Should I give up, or should I just keep chasing pavements, even if it leads nowhere?
The song really resonates with me. I can recall heartbreaking pathetic visions of 20-year-old me, following around my then-boyfriend/now-husband, wondering if he would ever love me back. (Silly, silly boy. We all know he finally came to his senses.)
But on a much deeper level… a LIFE level… a spiritual level… the words hit my core. So many of us are chasing something. Love. A cure. A passion. A purpose.
Sometimes I feel like I’m spinning my wheels. Chasing pavements. And I wonder, should I press on, or should I let go? Then I remember letting go is not giving up. Letting go, to me, means letting go of the struggle. Releasing the pain, and the outcome, to a higher power.
And my answer for Adele, with her beautiful voice and lyrics that make me catch my breath: if it’s worth having, it’s worth chasing. It doesn’t matter if you catch it, it just matters that you cared enough to try.
Keep the comments coming! This site is for open-minded, respectful discussion, conversation and connection.
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Do you believe in fate?
I was checking out my Twitter account one day, when Leslie posed the question, “Do you believe in fate?” I responded without a second thought, “I do. I believe somewhere between taking action and letting go, fate steps in.”
I know this type of question can spark all types of thoughts, conversation and debate over whether what happens to us is predetermined or if it’s a random chain of events. Yet many of us search for a sense of purpose and meaning in our lives. In high school, I was active in my church’s youth group. I recall having a similar discussion about this with my friends and our minister, Chuck. Chuck challenged us to think. He didn’t spoon feed us answers he wanted us to believe… but rather, he challenged us to search our own hearts and find the truth within. Such a valuable lesson to teach young, impressionable minds. Because, at least in my case, the spiritual journey continues.
We put a lot of different labels on God and what/who that is. Sometimes I use the word “universe” to describe the force I sense is at play in the midst of our daily activities. It’s just a word. As a writer, clearly, I love words. But sometimes words can’t do justice or even begin to explain what’s going on beneath the surface of our five senses.
I have experienced some painful and confusing crossroads in my life. And each time, I have reached a point where I have to let go. (Let go, not give up. There’s a difference.)
When I let go, I move forward with no guarantee for the future. It’s a dance that requires feeling the rhythm, not controlling the steps. But eventually, I get into the groove, the flow, and that’s where all the magic happens.
I explore the idea of fate a little further in my latest column over at Hybrid Mom. Click here to read it.
What’s the Worst Thing That Can Happen?
But in all situations, I can pray for, hope for, and even expect, the best.
“What’s the worst thing that can happen?” I asked myself, as I planned a cross-country trip to California last month. I was traveling alone, 4 months pregnant and feeling pretty confident I had arranged a safe, smooth itinerary. I was looking forward to the writing workshop I would be attending. Still, in the back of my mind, there was this fear.
The plane could crash.
It was not my intention to die on this trip. That was NO WHERE in my travel plans. I looked at the odds. There was always a chance, albeit a slim one, the plane would plummet towards the dirt. That shook me a little. But this trip was important to me, and so I reconciled it was worth the risk.
Living a full, meaningful life involves a certain degree of risk. We don’t have to dive off buildings like Batman to understand it’s rough out there. When we expose ourselves, open our hearts and make decisions that shake up the status quo, we always risk getting hurt.
But what happens when we play it safe? What do we risk then?
“What’s the worst thing that can happen?” Someone I respect and admire asked me this, years ago, as I agonized over whether to change careers and venture into the scary unknown world of disapproval and well, scary things. Her question challenged me to examine the source of my fear. Fear can be a powerful bully, and it’s often rooted in insecurity. That’s the moment I realized what causes me to worry and feel afraid is very rarely something that can actually harm me.
Here’s an example:
“If I go to the beach without sunscreen, I’m afraid I’ll get a sun burn.”
Yes, the sun can burn us. But is there any real reason to be afraid of it? When we take a closer look, we discover we have many options:
- I think I’ll stay inside today.
- I’ll hide in the shadows of a big umbrella, slather on SPF 180 and stay out for no more than 20 minutes.
- I’m going to wear SPF 30 and a hat and get outside and play. My nose may get a little pink, but it’s a beautiful day!
- What the heck? Fry me up like a catfish! Who needs sunscreen anyway?-OR-
- I haven’t decided where I stand on this issue. May I have a little more time to think about it and get back to you?
See all the choices we have? And what’s the risk associated with each? That depends on what matters most to you. You have to decide if it’s more important to be vigilant about sun damage or to get outside and play. Or if you think both are equally important, and so you find a healthy compromise.
Decide what’s important to you. Weigh your options. Assess your risk. And then go fly! Live your life. Pray like crazy and summon every angel you know. But do yourself a favor and leave your fear on the tarmac.
A New Perspective: Parts 1 & 2
Part One:
My 2-year-old son, Dillon, recently had to get glasses. This, at first, was a source of stress for me, because even though the glasses are necessary and he looks so cute wearing them, I had zero faith that he would ever keep them on his face. But Dillon has surprised me. It took just a few days of bribery (lollipops, ice cream cones, cartoons) before he was wearing his glasses most of the day without a fight (and without demanding a sucker first).
The doctor explained that most children accept their glasses once they realize how much better the world looks. Dillon hadn’t realized what he was missing. He had just adapted to the way things were. Now, with the glasses, he has a new perspective and he seems to like it.
I can get like that sometimes. I wander around with a blurry vision and outlook on life. I feel grumpy and down on myself, and I think that’s just the way it’s supposed to be. I forget that a simple shift in perspective can turn everything around.
Part Two:
A couple days ago I was having your classic “bad day.” Ever had one of those? It seemed as if nothing was going my way, and I just felt tired. Tired of trying so hard. Disheartened and annoyed. So I did what any good sun-loving Charlestonian would do– I went to the beach. The whole time I was loading up my child and all our gear into the car, I was grumbling. On the drive down Folly Road, I felt hot and moody. But as we began to approach the beach, and I caught a whiff of the salty air, I instantly felt my spirits rise. I parked at my friend’s beach house and walked three blocks to the beach, holding my son’s hand, and the tension began to melt away. By the time I was resting in a beach chair and chatting with my friend and her family, I started to see what my son saw when he put on his new glasses. A clearer view. New options. New reasons to be optimistic and happy.
About a half-hour later, my friend’s father, Michael, walked up on the beach and tapped me on the shoulder. He handed me my cell phone. “Do you want the long story, or the short story?” Michael asked. Apparently, I had dropped my cell phone on the street when my son and I were walking to the beach. A good Samaritan picked it up and scrolled down my numbers, looking for someone to call to let them know he had found my phone. He was smart and picked “Mom.” My mom called my husband at work, who suggested my mom call Michael’s place of business and ask for his cell phone number. Once she had his cell phone number, my mom called Michael, who just happened to be walking by the beach house where the good Samaritan was staying.
My cell phone was returned to me before I even knew it was missing.
My point is this: We don’t (and can’t) control everything. We can do our part. We can put one foot in front of the other. We can decide not to wallow in negativity. We can rise above our problems and start looking at things in a new way. But there is something else going on. Something bigger is at play. And it is working in our favor. We set the wheels in motion, but we aren’t out there all alone.
That is what life coaching is all about. Working with an objective listener who helps you see things a different way. Suddenly, obstacles become opportunities. Feelings of discouragement transform into restored faith. Coaching is about shedding the blurry perspective and developing a clearer view, so you can determine the next best step.
Sometimes the solution may be as simple as “Stop worrying and go to the beach!!”














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