rainy day at airport A rainy day delay helps grow patience.

I try too hard sometimes. Like right now. I’m trying to get home.

If I had just waited the weather out, I’d probably be boarding my Seattle flight to Denver right now, arriving home by 5. Well, land at 5:00 which puts me home at 7 p.m. But instead, I listened to the Weather Channel, got a 30 minute flight delay notice, checked Raindar, saw a HUGE storm over Seattle.

Then I read of tornados in Portland, checked Raindar again, boarded my flight to Seattle just to be grounded for an hour and a half and then dumped in the terminal to wait it out. After checking Raindar again, I called Travel.

Thanks goodness I have a go-to person at the office; I didn’t have to stand behind fifty other people trying to find a different way out. John swiftly and graciously got me down the road 90 miles to the closest airport, and a guaranteed flight to Salt Lake City, then home to Denver, arriving by 10 p.m. Weather looked good. It was guaranteed.

So now I’m at the Pasco airport, waiting, watching the planes go by, listening to their Seattle flight being called, and wondering, would I be on that Seattle-to-Denver flight home right now, if I hadn’t been proactive and found myself a different route home.

¯_( )_/¯

Who knows. I should stop trying so hard, pushing so much. I think that’s the “lesson,” if there is one.

I seldom sit down and enjoy, relax, just be. I’m doing something 90% of the time I’m not sleeping. That usually involves pushing hard to make money to pay the bills. I need to let more come to me. I’d better reread the book The Law of Attraction, by Ester and Jerry Hicks.

In lieu of that, I’m just going to sit here awhile, very still, very quiet and think good thoughts. Okay, first I’m going to finish this blog, then sit here, very quietly, thinking good thoughts. I’m going to slow down, enjoy the travel day, and get home when I get home. There is no problem I have to deal with, everyone is taken care of, my sweetheart is waiting for me. And he’ll be there when I get there.

Hmmm, maybe being proactive and pushing too hard wasn’t such a bad thing. It gave me time to sit down and write after all, and that always helps me let the good in.

Oh, I just heard someone say their flight was cancelled into Seattle earlier today and now they are waiting for another!

Vindicated!!! Keep on pushin’!

#LoquaciousLindee

I’m in a “universal time-out.” I’m flat on my back, unable to put pressure on my spine due to searing back pain. No more work or play. Time to be still. Time-out.

I didn’t have a lot of things I had left to do this week. I accomplished a lion’s share, a whole pride of lions’ share of activities this week already: rearranging and spring cleaning my small place, two hot power fusion yoga classes, a dozen laps around the lake outside my house. All of that after two hours of hand-snapping fresh asparagus–after a twenty hour car ride to and from Iowa! I like to get things done, and I’d checked more than a few items off the to-do list.

And, I was just thinking last evening how strong I felt. I was trouncing my horseshoes opponent solidly 7 to 1.  Hmmm, could have been the horseshoes that put me over. Those lucky shoes were a bit harder than usual to heave. And in hind-sight, not such a great idea. Just thinking about them sets my back aflame.

So now, it is time to rest, and time to write.

There certainly are benefits from being in a universal time-out. I hadn’t updated my blog in months. I guess those horseshoes were lucky after all. I’m lucky to have this time, time to recover, and time-out.

#LoquaciousLindee

A Woman of Words and Action            

               I’m not a woman of very few words; my personal hashtag is #loquaciouslindee. Loquacious, meaning, very talkative. I make my living talking; I’m a trainer and motivational speaker. I’m not EF Hutton, but when I talk, people listen. (Except for my kids. And my sweetheart on occasion.)

 

            Most people say there is a time for talk and a time for action. Is the trick knowing when to stop talking and start taking action? Or is talking part of the taking action?

 

                I like to think so.

 

           Words have power; they carry energy. They are the starting point to any good plan. Although they can be the starting point for bad plans as well. Whether clever and well-executed or lame and hair-brained, don’t all plans start with words?

 

            Eleanor Roosevelt said, “It takes as much energy to wish as it does to plan.” The difference between a wish and a plan is the talk used to define that plan. But when it’s truly time to get something done, take a page from a Mae West script; be a woman of few words but lots of action.

 

            Take that talk and channel it in to tasks; specific, step-by-step items you can check off a list. Take the time to plan it. Talk it out.Keep talking until it becomes a reality, one action at a time.

 

             Eleanor and Mae both had it right. 

 

 

Commit to a Crappy First Draft

Commit to a crappy first draft.

Those words sparked my spirit, paused my brain, and pushed-in a new understanding of “process.” The process of writing a book. No end in sight; just characters running melodramas, Young and the Restless style, in my psyche, lassoed and defined through my fingers and on to the page not often enough. I wasn’t committed to a deadline–or a timeline for that matter–except for the voice that kept pressing me from inside…”write the book, write the book.”  The problem was, I was editing the book before writing it. Concern for what others would think had stopped me from writing. I’d lost site of the story in my head for the worry of what others would think. “Not the problem, write the book,” the voice said. Hemingway made it possible. It didn’t need to be good.

Not only can I commit to a crappy first draft and the process of writing, I can commit to Gandolf’s philosophy, “All good stories deserve embellishment,” and just tell my story, in any order, in any way, in any fashion; it is fiction after all. I am a product of all I’ve experienced. It’s not an autobiography. It’s a story; a romance. The characters will appear when it’s their time to speak. In the meantime, the word is “intent.” What do I intend to do?  

Get to the end? Yes, eventually. Enjoy the process? Yes, it’s cathartic. Serve a purpose? Oh yes, for those that love has turned upside down, held under water, and made gasp ravenously for a freeing thought, this love story is for you. My intent is to write it, and to write it every day with that intent—to get to the end. The timeline will take care of itself. I’m committed to taking action.

Action is a crappy first draft.  

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.

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?