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Words to Live by

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Number 9 of the “24 Interludes of Life” as shared on Telling It Like It Is, a site which promotes “things you need to know about raising children, relationships, marriage and parenting.”

A careless word may kindle a strife
A cruel word may wreck a life
A timely word may level stress
A lovely word may heal and bless

What if all of your words were lovely?

Hope in the Night Sky

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Life’s gotten a little dark for a lot of folks lately. Many have lost hope, lost in their own troubles. It took a poet to help me get a new perspective, and when I realized that trouble is here to help me see the stars, there was only one thing left to do. Repeat after me:

Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight…

And don’t just wish on one, wish on them all!

Spell for Letting Go

Hocus Pocus change the focus,

Clear my head and mind.

Engage my heart, keep it light,

Take a breath, make it right.

Share a smile, give a hug,

Tell a story, feel the love.

Life flow through me, give me peace,

With joy and laughter I do release…

(list your worries then relax, repeat as often as your worries reappear)

Reprinted from Barf Bag Wisdom: When What’s Inside Must Come Out

Jack of All Trades; Master of None

I do a lot of different things: I write, I speak, I train. I design websites, brochures, and other print pieces. I organize events and promotions. I keep a home, am raising three teenagers, and lending my time and voice to the pro-medical marijuana movement. My folks’ generation referred to this as “Jack of All Trades.” It was used to describe a person who could do many things at once, but implies Jack (or Jill) does none of them well. And… I guess that makes Jack about average.

The average Jack (or Jill) doesn’t have the luxury of being a Master these days. The average Jack (or Jill) can’t get by with doing only one thing well. He has to do them ALL well, and not just well, but exceptionally well. I’ve been conditioned to believe if you’re exceptional at what you do, you are to be valued. It pays to be an expert: the more you know about a specific topic, the higher your value—and your paycheck! But I’m finding that’s not as true these days. Employees are assigned a multitude of tasks. A small business owner has to manage all areas of the business–product, service, customers, finances, taxes, industry regulations, etc… One key to success in today’s market is to do as many things possible as well as you can possibly can.

There’s no manual or on-line help forum for what’s happening now–unless you count the one being created daily by people living it. (Think Google and Wiki.) And that proves my point percisely. You must know many things, must be good at many things but you can’t wait until you “know it all” to move forward. I’m learning as I go but I don’t have time to get a Masters or to spend years “mastering” a topic, to learn how to juggle like Minnie “Boom Boom” Mahoony (pictured here). We become Masters by doing–it’s time to dive right in. My folks’ generation call it “Baptism by fire.” Learn the task as you do the task. I call it a typical day in the life of Jack and Jill of all trades.

Good or Bad–It’s All God

Once we reach the mountain top, when the race has been won, after the debts have been cleared, when the birthing pains are over, we proudly stand and declare–this is good, this must be of God!

When we are gasping for air on a spiral ride down, hitting the wall on the run, robbing Peter to pay Paul, and struggling to bring new life into the world, we raise our fists and declare–this is bad, this must be God’s test, this must be of the Devil. We see “good” as coming from God and “bad” as coming from a different source.

Good–bad, day–night, rich–poor, top of the mountain–down in the valley, at the beginning–middle–or end of the race–it’s all God. It’s not “one thing” or “another.” There is no “either or.” All of it, the experience of it, it’s God.

How we label it is up to us.

Looking Different to Seeing Differently: My Mom’s Face in the Mirror

Two days ago I woke up and looked different. I seemed to have morphed into my Mother overnight.

I actually noticed it as I passed the bathroom mirror at 4 a.m. I dismissed it as sleepy eyes playing tricks on me in the dark, but when Steve remarked the next morning that I looked like my Mom–well there it was, not just staring me straight in the face, but staring others in the face, too. So, what happened over night? What can cause a person to look like his or her self one day and someone else the next day? And why didn’t I wake up looking like Terry Hatcher or Linda Gray (two actresses that others have said I resemble.) Why my Mother?!

I guess it’s no secret why I woke up looking like my Mother–as the commercial goes, “You can’t fool Mother Nature,” the biggest Mother of them all. My question, however, is: why today? Physically, I’m not that much different then yesterday. I didn’t cut my hair into an “old lady” style or gain 20 lbs over night. So I have to wonder what would have my Mom’s face staring out the mirror at me today? Was it the expression? Had I seen that expression on her face before? Am I at a place in my life that matches a stage my Mother went through?

I’m in a relatively new–just coming up to a year–relationship with a man I can see myself growing old with. Whoa–hold the presses. Did I somehow hook up “togetherness” and growing old together in my psyche and alter my physical appearance in doing so? Or is it because my Mom, still married to my wonderful, devoted father wears a certain expression and I’m wearing that expression myself? My facial features couldn’t have changed that much over night, but wasn’t that my Mom’s nose staring back at me in the mirror? And could my expression have changed based on the experiences I’m having with the man in my life?

I do know this different look has caused me to look differently at my life. Why? What caused the shift? And, if I’d stop right now and look in the mirror, who’s face would I see? Is it experience, is it wisdom? Is it knowledge, belief, understanding, acceptance? Is it a cosmic message from my angels to tell me to call my Mom? Is it a reminder of the similarities my Mom and I have, and are they coming to the surface now because of the similarities I have with my 16 year old daughter. (A raving beauty on her own.)

Steve did tell me I’ve been hard on myself this past week. A little more critical of my appearance–of which I don’t give too much thought. I look like I look. And I like how I look. But this whole “different face in the mirror” is causing me to look at my life. I even picked up Marianne Williamson’s new book, The Age of Miracles, about mid-life transition. Just a quick skim of the table of contents tells me we will be lovingly accepting ourselves and morphing our thoughts to living our best life with this new found knowledge. Maybe this is just time’s way of telling me to take a closer look. My Mom has pretty much gotten everything she’s even wanted in life, and at 74, she projects Sophia Loren style beauty.

Have I too–gotten what I want? Or is it time to move toward it? Maybe that’s what I’m looking at. Or what’s looking back at me: the question–what are you waiting for? Are you ready to move forward?

Hmmm, I think I’ll start with a trip to the salon.

The Power of Prayer: Saint Jude is the Dude

Growing up the daughter of a devout Catholic–two actually–I witnessed first hand the power of Saint Jude. Saint Jude, according to legend and belief, is the patron saint of Lost Causes. While other Catholics would pray to Saint Anthony for lost objects, Saint Christopher for safe passage, and bury Saint Whoever upside down in the back yard to sell their house, my Mom went straight to the top–Saint Jude.

I have witnessed my Mom walk into a 40 acre field, at sunset, and find a tractor part the size of a bottle opener. I’ve seen her find misplaced checks, rogue house and car keys, and glasses gone missing. All she does is say a quick prayer, promise a financial reward as gratitude, and go in search of the missing object. Saint Jude comes through–almost always, and almost always immediately.

I, myself, have called on Jude on numerous occasions–like when I threw out an important bottle of medication and had to go dumpster diving to find it. Jude has helped me find countless items, and more importantly, has helped me through times of great stress…times when my moral has been in the toilet and I’m standing alone on one last shredded nerve. To me, Saint Jude represents faith…and the power of prayer. From that very first time in elementary school when I lost my brand new retainer and had to call in the Big Guy, I’ve been a believer.

Today I invoke Saint Jude. There is only one thing on my list, and I need it now. With heartfelt gratitude, I thank you in advance for coming through. Saint Jude, you’re the Dude.

And, as always, I’ll be sending my gratitude check to Saint Jude’s Children’s Hospital.

Wake Up or Get Up: a perspective on the alarm clock

Is there anything more exhausting than having to get up? The alarm goes off, we hit the snooze, and then lie in bed preparing ourselves for getting up and out of bed the next time it goes off.

“I want to wake up, not get up,” Steve said to me one night as I was setting the alarm. It made perfect sense to me. Who doesn’t enjoy a Saturday or Sunday morning when you can sleep until you’re done? Few of us have that luxury daily. For me it’s getting the kids on the bus, or making an early morning networking meeting, or coffee with clients. The good news, being self-employed, I have no office to report to at a certain time–besides my own home/office.

I find my agenda for the day sets my mood and perspective. If I’m going to do something that I’m not highly motivated to do (translation: I don’t want to do it), I feel proportionally exhausted. Just the thought of having to get up and do it makes me tired. Those are the multiple-snooze mornings.

Then there are those days that I can’t wait to get to my agenda–the “to do” list. Those days I wake up on my own–no alarm clock needed–the reason for getting up is also an internal “wake up” call. The day is stretched open to opportunity.

If you’re in reasonably good health, are getting to bed on time, have no external reason to set the alarm, why not let your body and mind determine the wake up time? And get up time?

And if you just can’t get up perhaps it’s not an alarm problem at all. Could the true “wake up” call be the need to change your daily agenda?

Exchange Policy: Changing damaging thoughts for positive thoughts

It’s five days til Christmas and I’ve yet to do my shopping. I’m not a procrastinator by mental wiring. I like getting projects done before deadlines loom. I’ve been putting off my shopping until the cash flow improves. I have been browsing for gifts for my three teenagers online though, and I’m reading the Exchange Policies. After all, what good is a present if the person doesn’t like it and won’t use it. Many companies make exchanging items easy. And all this has me thinking of my own internal “exchange policies.” Here’s one thought I’ve recently exchanged:

I recently parted from a j-o-b. My first in 16 years actually. I’ve run my own sales/marketing/communications company since 1991 and early this past year, strapped for cash and credit limits maxed, I became an employee for someone else. It was a brutal mental game. I worked everyday to “hold the light” and be positive as I worked in an office focused on the negative–mine, our team’s, and our client’s. I cried every Monday morning. The stress was tremendous.

Time to activate the Exchange Policy! I’ve exchanged the stress of having to work for someone else with the pressure of once again being on my own–self-sufficient, and responsible for three teenagers, two cats, and a condo. I’ve got January’s rent covered. February? Yet to be determined.

But if I get to choose–and you know I do–I choose the pressure of the unknown versus the pressures put upon me by others. I’m back in positive mode full time–and no longer crying on Monday mornings. My days are my own to make or break–and I choose to “wonder” where the next client is coming from versus the thoughts of how to cope in an energy cesspool.

Occasionally I replace the pressures of a job with the fears of not being financially successful, but who’s got time for such nonsense thoughts. And isn’t it wonderful knowing that if the fears do creep in, I can exchange those, too.

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