Category Archives: Writing

Everybody Cares, Just Not About the Things That Really Matter

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Balancing being informed and sane is the trickiest part of existing right now. Safety, freedom, survival – they are all at stake. It’s a daily parade of incompetence and cruelty.

We are assaulted as soon as we rise by a storm of content. These stories we are consuming are hard to shake. We want to take action, working hard to stay brave while also being really fucking scared.

I’ve had lots of moments over the last six months, year, 10 years….where I was running low on hope and purpose. Often, there has seemed to be little stopping this unguided mass of pure hate and greed from barreling down toward us. Not the courts, not Congress, but there are more and more of us every day who are punching back. It feels a bit like trying to hold off a fire hydrant with a dollar store umbrella.

We are in a 24-7 cycle of atrocities from this regime. The cruelty is, of course, the point. Even though I try to read and watch it with the intent to inform and counter, I’m not AI. I remain very human, this little box of empathy, compassion, and hope.

The contempt for humanity is playing everywhere, all the time. What kind of empty vessel do you have to be to post photo ops in front of tortured humans? How devoid of soul must you be to risk the lives of soldiers? What kind of sick fuck do you have to be to defund clinical trials and literally seize healthcare from the most vulnerable? It is unconscionable to celebrate murder, torture, and the downfall of what should make us human.

Today, I am still haunted by the video of Edgardo, the young man accompanied by Brad Lander and taken by ICE. The fear on his face was gut-wrenching. It fucking broke me. I cried big tears for him and every other person harmed by these profiteers of evil.

How anyone could look at this and the many more videos of inhumanity and not feel this way is beyond my comprehension. It’s disgusting, and I promise that if I’m ever in a position to do so, I will protect those who need it.

As we all know, none of us is getting out of here alive. Have we not earned the right to live whatever years we have left in peace? We have, and we want it for all. Yes, all, because I and those who I stand with actually see every human as something.

I’ve always had this gut feeling that this country has too often been the bad guys. All the good doesn’t absolve all the pain inflicted and the tragedy created. From the Trail of Tears to possessing people as property to burning women to the McCarthy inquisitions to Reagan’s war on the social contract, this nation has a lot of reckoning.

The latest is a war no one wants except the goons in the White House. They’re already in line with their talking points and “sleeper cells,” so they can manufacture fear to push people to be pro-war and use it to remove anyone it deems a “threat,” regardless of their citizenship status. Now, SCOTUS has given them the green light for third-party removals (or trafficking, but not deporting. That definition is a return to origin.)

When does this end? This is every fucking Black Mirror episode in one, all the time. People are just cattle to these folks. The dehumanization and fear crusades have been ongoing for decades. We are here today because people stopped caring about most everything that was worthy of it. Instead, they cared about their perceived superiority and persecution. How you can hold those thoughts together, I don’t know. They bend their beliefs with the wind.

So, they cared about their own interests as fleeting as those are, since there’s little loyalty or empathy found there. One could say I’m demonizing them. I’m not.

I gave people the benefit of the doubt and ignored that side. I’ve never had a MAGA in my circle, but there were some on the periphery.

In the end, how I care is different. I want no one to hurt or starve. I understand equality isn’t a pie that gets smaller as all people earn rights. Isn’t that rather insane to think that anyone not of the dominant party, mostly white men, have had to fight, protest, and sue our way to just be on the same level. And that’s one thing they care about, too, just in a different way. They care about being at the top, while others lose their ability even to remain free.

That’s the kind of caring that destroys people and the world around them.

For me, I can’t turn that way. I don’t have it in me to fall in line. Please keep caring about the right things with me.

Do Sh** That Scares You

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Wise and revered First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt said, “Do something every day that scares you.” This is good advice even for those who aren’t risk takers. Because doing something that scares you need not be solely concerned with the physical.

Because I’m not a risk taker or an adrenaline junkie. I’m not a thrill seeker. I was never a fearless child. Not that I have many fears. Heights I can deal with except in certain circumstances. While at the top of the CN Tower in Toronto years ago, I could not step foot on the glass section. It’s an area where you can stand and see straight down. It can hold like a herd of buffalo. But my leg wouldn’t stop shaking so I just looked at the view in front of me not below me.

I’m also fine in the dark except that I can’t see. Roller coasters aren’t so much scary as they are nauseating. So I don’t tempt fate on that one. I’m looking out for my fellow riders. I’m also not really scared of death. It’s inevitable so it does little good to waste energy being scared. And that prevalent fear of public speaking doesn’t apply to me. I love it.

But life is scary. It’s scary in that everything can change in an instant. I could walk out my door today and never come back. Accidents, crime, wrong place wrong time and a million things in between can 180 your life in a heartbeat. So why not do some sh** that scares you. If you’re scared of something then you actually do it; you win. More importantly, it takes away the power of fear.

As I’m out there living life with a capital L, I’ve pretty much had fear’s number. I zip lined a few weeks ago. No hesitation, just stepped off and went. It was exhilarating. It’s the closest thing to flying most humans will ever feel. Great experience and would love to do it again.

But I haven’t been really scared in a long time until I went down the Wenatchee River on a raft with four real rafters. I thought it was just going to be a laid back rafting adventure. Then we got there and started getting into wet suits and packing up gear. Then there was the safety review, which I paid attention to like my life depended on it (spoiler alert: it did).

Then we get in the water, and the fun begins. There were multiple occasions where my heart was in my throat, and I was literally shaking. As a city girl, I’m not super outdoorsy. To clarify, I love to be outdoors but I’m just not an outdoor adventurer. My many years of girl scouting or previous rafting experience did not prepare me. I was with people who knew what they were doing so I deferred to them. Even though I did fall in, I received a passing grade from the pros. And more importantly, I did something really damn scary.

So these are examples of scary situations. But I do things every day that scare me just as much, but in a different way. I bare my soul with words that aren’t always easy to write. I’m honest to others and myself. I walk away from circumstances and people that are toxic. I’ve lived every day for 20 plus years without my mom, yeah that’s still scary. I take chances on people and let myself be vulnerable, unimaginably scary. I love people who may disappoint me or leave me. I prepare for professional rejection on the regular because not everyone thinks I’m publication worthy.

So I guess these adventures are small potatoes compared to what I and many of you do every day. Being brave is different for every person and every situation. If you want to feel alive; if you want to feel your pulse, simply do something that scares the sh** out of you. Every. Damn. Day.

The Adult Card

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Dear Life, I need a break. Adulting is a 24/7/365 type of job. There are no breaks or reprieves. When you’ve been adulting as long as I have, eventually you hit a breaking point. Mine was about two hours ago. Not one thing I needed to go right has in the last week. And most of it is out of my control. As an adult, I know that I can’t change it. But honestly I’d really like to bury my head in my pillow and not get up for two weeks.

Unfortunately, that’s not an option. I don’t have the luxury of taking breaks. I don’t necessarily feel overwhelmed by what’s on my plate. I like most of the stuff on my plate. It’s just the way it’s being served. There’s not enough time for everything to get the attention it needs. There’s not enough money to really make life easier.

Instead there is just the churn of life. The routine of doing all the things you need to do every day to keep your official adult card. Go to work. Pay bills. Buy groceries. Deal with intolerable people. This is what being an adult is. Of course, some of us do it better than others.

Errors have been made that have impacted me negatively in the last week. I’d gladly blame myself, but I’m not the culprit. Lucky for me, those responsible aren’t accountable. So it’s up to me to show up, flash my adult card and turn on my I’m not taking any shit voice. This voice is usually reserved for AT&T, United Healthcare, the HOA, numerous other organizations that I am forced to do business with and occasionally my husband.

I imagine that he can see it in my eyes when I’m about to lose it. Yet, he never does. You know when you get so mad and frustrated that you are literally steaming. Yeah, that’s me right now just waiting for him to get home so I can spew. I’ll reiterate he’s done nothing wrong; my fire breathing is not directed at him. But he’s my person that gets to hear all of it. He signed up for this. I never hid that I was holding on by a thread.

The thread may have broken. It does every so often. Then I have to work real hard at returning to human form and rethreading the needle of my sanity. If any of this sounds shocking then good for you and your commitment to being sunshiny. I just can’t do it. If you asked me right now, “How are you?” I think it would be physically impossible for me to say, “well” or “fine” or any other normal response.

So what do I do when I’m under water and cannot adult any more. I write in the hope that it will make me feel better or at least just get it out of my head. Sometimes just writing words can dampen the fire. Even though I’d like to resign from adulting, that’s not really how life works. I have to get up every day and work and learn and grow. I have babies that depend on me, and people that care if I show up for life. So I’ll keep showing up, and I’ll keep writing.

And I will hold on to what’s to come, including a girl’s weekend and a trip to two places I’ve wanted to see my entire life.

I feel as though I’ve been an adult my entire life. So why hand in this card I’ve worked so hard for? After all, if life was all uphill, what fun would that be? I’m quite sure I’ll never have to find out.

I almost died last Tuesday

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I almost died last Tuesday. Okay that sounds super dramatic, and to be clear, I’m fine. I work in the downtown area of Charlotte, N.C. It’s not exactly pedestrian friendly. I’ve had close calls before, while I was in the crosswalk and had the green light. This was different. I was crossing one of the main roads on my way back to the office from running an errand. I’ve learned to hesitate a second or two even after the light comes on that says walk. I stepped out into the road, and an SUV ran the red light and literally came within inches of hitting me. A lady behind me even gasped. But as I said, I’m fine, not even a scratch. So what did I learn about myself in that split second?

I learned that it doesn’t take almost dying for me to know my priorities. I’m not suddenly going to start using YOLO as my mantra or seize the day. Because I’m already seizing the day, at least as much as I can.

You see, this isn’t my first brush with mortality. I’ve lost almost everyone that was important to me. And I’ve been in the room sitting across from the doctor hearing him say words like “cancer” and “surgery.” Maybe this gives me a unique perspective. Sometimes I’d probably trade that perspective to just have one more moment with my mom. But that’s not the path my life has taken. I often say, “Life rarely turns out as expected, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be wonderful.” I really believe this 84 percent of the time. I’m not perfect. I often get caught in the cobwebs of the past or the shininess of the future.

But I don’t think you need loss or trauma in your life to realize what’s important. I read something the other day, “I want to die with memories not dreams.” That’s a really powerful statement. We all have dreams that still haven’t quite come true. My biggest unrealized dream is to have one of my novels published and to finish my memoir. The routine of life gets in the way of dreams sometimes, but I want more than dreams; I really do want memories. I want to live a life that’s full of beauty as well as heartbreak. I understand that a life well lived has both because you have to take chances, fail terribly and pull yourself back up, which sometimes takes longer than you had planned. I want to see more than the five miles around where I live. I refuse to let fear keep me from experiencing life; whether that be traveling abroad or sharing my stories. I’m not paralyzed by what “might” happen. I understand the reality of what can happen.

I’m not completely fearless. My worries are not uncommon: bills, loved ones, rejection. But you know, I’m just not afraid of death. It’s inevitable. Nobody gets to bypass it. I just want to be sure that when that day comes, however it comes, that I lived a life, took every opportunity, lived by my own rules and left nothing on the table.

How do you really live your life? What keeps you brave?

When will I be enough?

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This is probably a question that pops up in everyone’s mind from time to time; it’s like a stain that keeps reappearing or bad breath that a mint can’t cover. It persists so we persist in trying to define “enough.”

The chorus in my head has been on the same verses for too long: Am I good enough? Successful enough? Smart enough? Pretty enough? I wish I could say that the answer is yes. But depending on the day, it can go either way.

I had competing viewpoints on if I was enough in my childhood. My mom was generous with praise, always the encourager. But she pushed a lot, too. Straight A’s were expected. I never had a B until high school, but she wasn’t harsh, just slightly disappointed. My father, on the other hand, was absent and incapable of praise. Instead I got a lot of lectures on being fat. When this is how you start out in life, it’s hard to be kind to yourself and believe you are “enough.” Because ultimately isn’t it about having that belief in yourself?

But we keep falling into traps about what is “enough.” We get snared and dragged down, losing all focus on the things that really matter.

Trap One: If only some magical thing will happen then I’ll be enough. If I get the right job or the perfect marriage or some other thing then finally I’ll be enough. Listen, we all need to have goals and dreams. It keeps us moving, but what happens is that we stop caring about the present. It’s easier to look toward the future with hope that things will be better. The past betrayed us, and the present is just this thing getting in our way of the perfect future.

You know those vision boards that were so popular years ago (maybe they still are?). People put so much time and effort into looking at a board that was their ideal life that they didn’t appreciate what they already had. I don’t have a vision board. I stopped looking for what was at the end of the rainbow and decided the rainbow’s pretty awesome on its own. I haven’t completely conquered this trap; I still want more. I still have plenty to accomplish, but I refuse to ignore these moments that I’m experiencing right now.

Trap Two: Self-doubt and insecurity make us less likely to ever get to the prized “enough.” How much confidence do you have in yourself at this moment? Probably less than you deserve. I’ve always been confident in my intelligence and skills. With every fiber in me, I believe in my talent as a writer and marketer. I’m educated, curious and work hard every day to keep sharp. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have doubts. I still second-guess myself and feel that I’m not where I should be in my career. I’ve made mistakes. I stayed at jobs too long that didn’t nurture me and my ideas. However, I do make my living writing. People pay me to write! The topics aren’t always interesting, but it beats looking at spreadsheets or filling in balance sheets (I hate math!).

Do the most successful people in the world have self-doubt? I don’t know; it’s hard to believe that they could be confident in everything 100 percent of the time. I can only speak for me, and I am harder on myself than almost anyone ever could be. Some would say it’s tough love, but being kind to yourself has nothing to do with being “tough” and everything to do with being comfortable with who you are and where you’ve been.

So when will I ever be “enough”? I’ll probably consider myself an utter failure until one of my books is out there in the world. I may never be a best seller, but I’ll never give up on this dream. It’s the same dream I’ve had since I was a five years old. It’s been really close then far away then close again.

So what is your “enough”? This is a real question from a real person typing these words, not a ploy for engagement. Because if we can all make peace with “enough” doesn’t that make the world a little bit better?

 

Forget Resolutions, Just Be Better

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Ever wonder how New Year’s resolutions originated? I did, too. So I did some research. New Year’s resolutions originated thousands of years ago, tracing back to the ancient Babylonians and Romans. Back then, these people used resolutions as a way to appease the gods. As Christianity emerged, Christians also began to make promises to be more devout and cleanse the sins from the former year.

New Year’s resolutions, which are mainly secular these days, have now turned into a joke with the likelihood to keep them very slim. I’m sure they still have meaning to some; if for nothing else than to contemplate the year that has passed.

I don’t make resolutions. I do set goals. But these goals don’t hinge on a new year. I don’t need any additional pressure to “change” my life come January 1st. I want to always be willing and open to change and growth. So why not start every day with the hope to be a better person? I’m not a self help expert or a motivational guru. I’m just a real person with real challenges that loves to write. I don’t have it all together by any means. I just try hard every day to be better. Here are some thoughts on “better.”

Be accountable. This is your life. You made the choices, for better or worse, that led you to this moment. Stop blaming everything and everyone for your situation. Yes, we’ve all had things happen to us outside of our control. Right now at this moment you’ve got to stop thinking that someone or something else is the reason for your current condition. Own your own life! We’ve run out of time to change the past. Stop being stuck in it. Being stuck in the past is like quicksand. If you don’t clear your way out, you’ll sink into it and disappear.

If you are depressed, anxious or both, get help! There’s no reason to suffer. And your spouse, partner or best friend isn’t the help I mean. Yes, having a support system is important, but I mean professional help. There’s no shame in this. Take meds if you need them. It’s okay to ask for help. Because guess what, your life’s not perfect. And it doesn’t have to be.

Stop being so self-absorbed. Try being present with those in front of you. Put your phone away. Look people in the eye. Have a real conversation. Self absorption isn’t just about the self, it’s often disguised by whatever you’re focused on like your children or job. Look, I’m no expert on kids. I’m not a parent. But I have been obsessed with my career. That was my priority. I was always working. And my relationships suffered. So whether it’s kids or career or something else, just remember that if someone is taking the time to be present with you then reciprocate.

Stop waiting for that magical thing to happen that will make you feel happy or successful or some other emotion you crave. It’s not going to happen. Maybe it will, but don’t count on waking up the next day with all your worries gone and a cloak of happiness. I fell in that trap, thinking when I accomplish this professional goal then I’ll finally feel like a success. It never happened. While I still struggle with what “success” means, I’m no longer waiting for that unicorn to ride in with a “You’re a Success” banner. The same thing with relationships. Thinking that if you’ll find the “one” you’ll live happily ever after is utter bullshit. There is no “one”; there are people out there you’ll be more compatible with than others. Ultimately though you’ve got to be right with yourself to have a real, lasting relationship that is healthy. Stop waiting on that happiness train; it’s never on time and will pass you by.

So that’s my non-advice. I call it this because I don’t really think I’m in a position to provide advice. What I can do is tell good stories based on what I’ve learned. Writing this is as much for me as for anyone who reads it. Just remember, you’re still here. You’ve successfully made it through a lot of spectacular and horrible things. The only thing you need to do is just be better.

What I Learned from 2016

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Well, 2016, you sure did not disappoint. It’s been up and down all the way through. And in the end, whether if just by a thread, I’m still here, and I’ve learned a few things along the way.

The year started with a break up; I left I job I loved for many reasons yet it was clear I needed to move on. What I hated leaving were mostly the people. These great people made a lasting impression on me. I learned a lot about myself through the eyes of these people and took some lessons from them as well. It’s a pretty amazing thing when you have the pleasure of being around fascinating people that make you want to just be better.

Since then my professional life has been on the rise. I got back to who I am and what I want to do. I relaunched this blog, which has been such a joy for me. To write about life and share my stories makes me happy. And I am motivated even more to keep telling more stories because of the response I’ve received. I’ve also been able to meet and work with many interesting and intelligent people on marketing strategies. My “day job” is a bit of a bore, but I’ve met many exceptional people.

Of course what took precedence most of the year was the remodel. I spent months with no floor, a few weeks with no kitchen and a few moments when I may have considered going to a hotel alone! And then finally, things came together. I won’t congratulate us just yet. We still have one more ceiling to scrape and two bathrooms, which means we’ll have to share a bathroom for a time.  Good luck to us.

While things have been mostly positive and joyful, the world itself has continued to be challenging. It’s nothing new. Conflict arises over the same things over and over – religion, race, power, money and anything that seems “different.” Have we learned nothing from history, have we really devolved? I’m not an expert on the human condition; I am however an observant storyteller. I’ve seen real anger and fear in the faces of many. Yet I’ve also seen beautiful signs of humanity. One afternoon on the way home, I saw a dog with no leash or human. It’s a busy road. He was definitely someone’s pup based on his good condition. I went to pull over and three other cars did as well. A lady jumped out and scooped him up as he was about to walk into the road. I needed to see that, it gave me hope.

I lost a lot of hope in this culture during the election. It showed a lot of the worst in people. I don’t believe that some people are all bad or good. I think people are all shades of gray, light and dark pieces in us all. But l learned something very important the morning after the election. I was on the train, earlier than normal. Two middle aged men were standing behind me on their way to offices in skyscrapers. They were complaining about lack of sleep because “They waited so long to call it.” Then one says to the other, “At least there’s not a woman in the White House.”

I don’t believe the race was lost because of gender. I’ve tried hard to dissect how and why things happened as they did. I get that things certainly aren’t as our founding fathers imagined. But I do know that when they wrote, all men are created equal, they meant white men like themselves. Everyone else has had to keep fighting for that equal. Those words I heard that morning helped me understand that I need to keep trying to be a strong voice and force for women in any way I can regardless of who is in office. I’m not burying my head in the sand. I’m going to stay as educated and informed as possible. Someone has to.

The year ended with a simple wedding, joining two people who are more concerned with a dazzling marriage. Marriage, and the wonderful man I now call husband, have taught me so much already. No matter what 2017 has in store, we will weather it together. This is perhaps the best lesson of 2016 – it’s the special moments and time with those we love that matter – everything else is just noise. I’m all for more joy and less noise in 2017. I’ll do my part; hope you will, too.

 

Thoughts on Westworld and What It Means to be Human

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So, we are fascinated by Westworld. Billed as a science-fiction thriller where humans live out their fantasies with AI-induced hosts, Westworld is actually about much more. It asks the question, “What does it mean to be human?” and has a running theme of “pain” as the crux of consciousness. The hosts are wiped clean after every trauma but soon begin to remember. Is this what pushes them toward consciousness?

In the real world, humans of course can’t have their memories erased. We carry them around. They may act as shields or barriers or even medals. Our experiences do shape us and inform who we are and the choices we make. Sometimes for good; sometimes to our detriment. But it’s worth asking: does pain make us human?

I don’t do a lot of what if anymore, where I would run through my life and consider alternatives. What if my mom would have lived? What if my father would have been a part of my life? What if I never had cancer? There are a million other ways my life could have gone. I have no idea if I’d be the same person without pain, but my guess is no.

Westworld also has a recurring thought about loss, that the pain from loss (in the show it’s the loss of a child) is all someone has left. I’ve written about this before. That my pain is what makes me know it was real, that my mom and her love and devotion to me were real. I long ago stopped trying to shred it, but it’s also no longer my armor. You don’t have to be consumed by your pain in order to hang onto it. It’s not going anywhere. I won’t miraculously wake up one morning and have a whole heart again.

If I had to answer the question, then I’d say yes, pain does make us human. I don’t think any of us are pain free, however, some have led a more comfortable life. If given the choice, I’d say many would opt for that comfortable life. Not me. I’ll take the pain. I’ll take all the good and bad that came with my life. I didn’t choose the pain. I didn’t ask to be born. But I choose to live this life that I have and make the best of it. Without this life and in turn this pain, I wouldn’t be able to write things like this with such passion. My voice would more subdued; my thoughts more simple.

Westworld has been a ride in its first season. I was so eager for every second of it, reminding me of my obsession over Lost. But like any great piece of art, it made me think about my own place in the world and question it. I’m glad to be aware of where I’ve been and where I am. And, I would always choose the pain even if enchanting Dr. Ford told me he’d wipe it all away.

Today, a poem

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I’m busy working on thoughts and ideas. Sometimes you have to walk away from what you are writing and come back to it. So today, a poem. I wrote this many years ago. It’s still one of my favorites. Never think that words aren’t powerful. They absolutely are. And don’t ever think that you can’t come back from something. You may just realize you have wings that work when you take that jump or leap.

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I have this picture
You in that old olive recliner
Me poised on the arm.
We’re mirrored
From the green Izod shirts
To the blonde strands of hair.
It sits in a frame.
It hangs in my heart.
I remember you young & tan
Before too many things
Sank into your skin.
When I had pigtails
And called you mommy.
Maybe time fades pictures, curls their edges.
I’ve taken a million steps away
From that moment
It’s still clear, it’s still happening
Whenever I close my eyes.

 

My Love Song to Sara Bareilles

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Dear Sara,

I finished your book a few weeks ago. I bought it when it first came out, but I was saving it like a long hidden Reese’s cup. I knew there would be a time I needed it, and that time arrived. I would probably prefer to read words by you every day, but then we’d need to be friends in real life (there’s still hope for that; I’m available!).

I have great admiration for you and your talent. Your beautiful words and songs have meant a lot to me over the years. After I bought Little Voice, I listened to it over and over. It was my refuge from a bad marriage. I’d put my earphones on at night, listen to your album and cry, tears of hurt, fear and hope. I didn’t know how to get out. I was in an emotional meltdown because for so many years there had been a ban on feelings (as in feelings will not pass go and be sent straight to jail). I had been solely in survival mode. I was in trouble. Your music made a difference in my life. They aren’t just songs; they are mantras, they are inspiration, they are as you might say, “satellites.”

I thank you so much for sharing your talent and for allowing us a glimpse behind the music in your book. As women, we often face more challenges than men, especially relating to our appearance and self worth. Your candid and refreshing stories cemented what I already heard in your music: you are someone who cares, you like all of us are human and flawed.

Your next album Kaleidoscope Heart helped me through heartbreak. It fed my courage. It made me believe that I would come out the other side. It helped me understand that love is a lot different than the notions we have in our heads. Thanks for keeping me steady.

I listen to at least one of your songs most every day. They are a friend and a comfort to me. Because some days are good, some are okay and some are really horrible. Something will happen almost every day that breaks your heart a little. It’s what we do with all those little cracks that matters. My heart has a lot of cracks, tributaries of fissures from one side to the next. But it’s still beating; it’s still strong. Maybe stronger than it would have been untouched.

Thank you for being a part of the fabric holding all those cracks in place and for reminding me to hold my own heart.

This, Sara, is my love song to you.