Bouncing Ball   I’ve been on a free-fall. Just read the last few posts. Nothing cheery to write home about, no silver linings. The harder I fought it, the more stressed I became. I kept searching for a way to MAKE it end, and finally it has.  

   I’m moving. Letting go of my home of the last 10 years to move in with a girl friend so I can financially make ends meet. I can no longer do it alone. That decision for me, was hitting bottom. I love my space, a small condo near a mountain lake. This is where I’ve raised my family. There’s sadness is leaving.

   But, and it’s BIG! Letting go of $1200 in rent and utilities will allow me to live again. Yes, it’s on unemployment, but it is a little help until I find a better paying job or one of my business endeavors pays-off. It’s breathing room and a sigh of relief. I’ve been carrying this money monster for so long!! 

   “The farther you fall, the higher you bounce,” is what Million-Dollar Mary Kay National Sales Director Monique Todd used to tell me. I know it’s true because the momentum has already shifted. I’m looking forward for the first time in months. Looking forward to the first snow when I’ll be tucked into my new space, surrounded by a lot of my favorite things. (She’s got the space! What a blessing!) Looking forward to affording gas and lunch out with friends as I work my businesses and network for a job. Looking forward to having a little money to buy boots and jackets for the kids. Looking forward, that’s the key.

   I predict this buoyant excitement will last awhile; I’ve been falling for awhile. But, if the laws of physics hold true, then a bounce equal to the fall is happening now! And it’s just getting started! Goodbye fear, regret, and worry. Greetings courage, hope, enthusiasm, and spunk!  Time to enjoy the bounce… bounce… bounce… bounce.…

Got Your Backoxygen-mask.bmpoxygen-mask.bmpGot Your BackGot Your Back     Anyone who’s traveled by air knows the Oxygen Mask safety presentation: put the mask on yourself before you assist the person beside you. Focus on your own survival first. That seems logical. You can’t help others if you’re dead—hence, take care of #1.

     What if we were taught to put the oxygen mask on the person beside us first? What if, in the final moments, instead of focusing on yourself, you help the person next to you? Your final thoughts would be of concern for others, your final actions acts of compassion, and you’d be filled with the spirit of giving.

     What if you could count on that person sitting next to you, to save you? How freely would you travel knowing you could count on the kindness of strangers to see you safely through. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to know that the person sitting next to you—whether you know them or not—has your back. What if, from birth, we’d been taught this principle? Many talk it, “do unto others as you’d have them do unto you,” but society as a whole is falling short. We’re not taking care of each other; we’re a nation of people looking out for #1.

     I’m an Iowa farm girl. We had dairy cows and hogs; we raised corn and soybeans; grew alfalfa for hay and oats for straw. Our farm was self-sufficient and I’ve been taught to be self-sufficient. I’ve been taught it’s irresponsible not to take care of myself; it’s my job to look out for #1—so ultimately I can look out and take care of the people next to me. The problem is, I’m not able to do it alone and make ends meet, just me, looking out for #1. The pressure is overwhelming.

     There’s a screamer band out there with a hit, and let me paraphrase because a google lyrics search didn’t reveal the artist and song, “How can I save you when I can’t even save myself?” If I don’t buy into the oxygen mask theory, I don’t have to worry about saving myself, the people here next to me will do that. Then I could focus on what’s truly important-helping others.

crowdofpeople.jpg     Actually, I got an eye-full. It’d been a hell-of-a-night, followed by a hell-of-a-morning. I’d spent the night worrying—and that exhausts the living crap out of you. (Read Lost My Give-a-Shit if you’d like details.) I’d been mining my heart; fretting it, softening it, doubting it, preparing it to receive a greater gift: the gift of Understanding.

     I was driving north on I-25, on my way to pick-up my best friend, Kook, and her daughter, Alex, from the airport. They were jetting in from Milan; they’d spent the last two weeks in Italy. It was a typical Rocky Mountain Sunset—spectacular. Oranges and pinks blended in to gray blues and purples. The clouds were stirrin’ up an Earth-Meets-Sky raspberry/grape smoothie.

     The ride home was a swirl of conversation, a mix of stories from all of us. As they shared tales of drinking Italian roasted coffee from silver cups on a rose adorned and rose-petal covered patio, on a balcony overlooking the sea, I shared my excitement for the social networking seminar I’d attended, books I’d read on Facebook, Linked-in, and Twitter, updates to my websites, and the blog article I’d posted.

     Kook talked of the beauty of the people, and I bemoaned I had no beautiful people to work with—and then I understood! I want beautiful people, with passionate businesses that I can believe in and promote. I want to blog and tweet and book my face off. I want to sit on my tush and earn a living by writing for others—telling their story and engaging in a dialog with their customers. I don’t need a ton of clients. I need two or three with companies or causes I support.

     It seams so simple, now that “I got it.” Focus on the beautiful people! There’s no time for doubt. No time to worry. Only time to focus on others. What a glorious thought.

i-dont-care1.jpgi-dont-care.jpgi-dont-care.jpg   If you find it, let me know. I had it when I went to bed last night, had it when I woke up at 1:30 a.m. If I was a detective, I’d pinpoint the crime—if indeed there is one—sometime between the hours of 2:00 and 3:30 a.m. I think I had it when I did dishes, that would be around 2 a.m. I like doing dishes; I always have. It’s my “go to” activity when I don’t know where to start or what to do next. I do them first thing in the morning as a way to clear my head and set the compass for the day and I do them in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep. Maybe my “give-a-shit” drained away in the dish water.

     I do know, as I returned to bed and lay there in an anxiety-ridden heap of useless flesh, that the only way through this personal crisis is to write. But I’ve been postponing posting (ha, isn’t that an interesting play on words) because I was taught “if you can’t say anything nice…” you know the adage. Well, I’ve got nothing good to say. I’m in a fucking dark hole. Have been for years (not just months—years) and the harder I work the deeper the hole gets. Stop digging, some people say. Work smarter, not harder; run and pray; believe; keep-on-keepin’-on. Insert your own F’ed-up positive-thinking bullshit right here. And let me tell you, I’ve tried them all; I’ve taught them all. I’m not new to The Secret. Brian Tracy taught me the underlying principles in The Secret in his audio program, The Psychology of Achievement when I was 24 years old. I believed it so much, I’ve lived my life doing affirmations, and striving to turn every negative statement and situation I encounter to a positive experience. It’s all bullshit. And I don’t care who’s reading this or what your perspective is, it’s not working for me. Life is not working for me. And I don’t give a shit who knows it. That’s the “give-a-shit” that went missing around 3:00 last night.

     “Fake it til you make it.” A statement I learned in Mary Kay as I struggled to build my team and become a Sales Director—a positive affirmation in action if I ever heard one. My ex-husband, who tends to be a realist, used to tell me I was just lying to myself. Well, I’m done lying to myself and others.

     No, I’m not fine. Life is a shit sandwich and I’m the creamy middle. There’s no one to help, no one I can count on. And I’m so damned exhausted from trying so hard, I no longer care who knows it. To quote my favorite band, “I don’t want to fake it anymore.” (Widespread Panic, Imitation Leather Shoes)

     Every day is a struggle. I see no reprieve from this stressful financial situation and no joy on the horizon. I’m unemployed and the first unemployment check won’t be here for 6-8 weeks. I’m in need of capital so I can start my own business (because “when the going gets tough, the tough get going” and make their own success—isn’t that the capitalistic bullshit we’ve all been taught?). I’ve been going backwards financially since May of 09 and the credit cards are maxed. Rent is due in two weeks and I’ve already tapped the folks and best friend for cash. I need to move out of my apartment but have no place to go or no money to work with. I’m down to my last few dollars and hope hasn’t been in my vocabulary for…ever (unless you count that tequila buzz I had two weeks ago—which turned out to be an alcohol-induced illusion.)

     Do I give-a-shit what you think of this blog post? Or my situation? Or my character? Nope. I’ve lost it. If you find it, keep it.