Living in the Thinking Chair

June 20, 2016 by

I live in my Thinking Chair.

I don’t mean, obviously, that I am confined to or spend all my time in said chair. 

So, I just gooogled “live” in preparation for my next sentence after the crossed out one above. Funny how concentrating on semantics will lead you to a really neat insight. This. This is why I love to write.

 

I remain alive in my Thinking Chair.

Nearly my whole life I have desired a space, a corner, a chair. It would be only mine and it would be a safe haven for those things that restored my heart. It would be uniquely me with purpose and obvious function and feeling. It would remind me of those great movie scenes where the self assured, self confident, successful woman wore her too large, off the shoulder knit sweater that still made her look amazing and not frumpy, with her piping hot coffee sending steam in front of a beautiful non makeuped face and impossibly put together bed head, as she settled in to her well deserved Sunday morning in her space. I don’t even know if that’s a real movie or one I created. I’ve played it so often in my head it’s hard to tell at this point.

In this, the last year of my 30’s, I got my space. I got my Thinking Chair.

The search for the chair started out as a hunt for a reading chair. I wanted something that would fit nicely in the empty bedroom corner and was designed for long periods of comfortable book snuggles. I had a decent budget. So I started sitting in chairs. My older children joined in the hunt. The giggles at mom as she sat, lounged, floundered, threw legs over chair arms in the middle of furniture stores were plenty.

“Mom, seriously?”
“She has to make sure it’s comfortable!”

I indeed did.

Let me tell you there are some beautiful reading chairs out there. Round ones that swivel. Super soft ones that recline. Convertible ones that turn into a bed. And I loved many of them.

But I couldn’t pick one. While they were all within the budget, they were the whole budget. And while they were all beautiful, they all felt manufactured. It’s weird trying to describe this inanimate object as lacking because I felt it had no heart, but that’s exactly what was going on. I couldn’t find a chair with personality. I have a hard time spending time with people without personality. I guess that spills over into my chair preference as well.

Declaring the search over for the day, we stopped by the mall on the way home so the girls could get some craft stuff. I rarely find myself at the mall, so I had no idea that a large, second hand shop had opened up there.

And there it was. My chair.

I sat, laid, lounged, curled. I asked the associate if it was new as it looked like it had never been touched. She said technically no as it had come from an estate sale. However, I pulled cushions and unzipped covers; the thing looked brand new.

“Momma! It’s the Thinking Chair!”

 

Madison was absolutely right although I had not noticed originally. But her childhood nostalgia registered the similarity to the famous Blue’s Clues staple immediately.

And now, the Thinking Chair helps me put my clues together.

In this space I have my space. Just sitting in it suggests that I have made time for my soul and that is good. Being here gives encourages freedom from responsibility, permission to let my mind wander, safety to let my thoughts roam, comfort for the exercise of The Many.

I remain alive in my Thinking Chair.

Filed Under: The Thinking Chair Tagged With: , ,

Effective Goal Setting for The Many

June 15, 2016 by

Alrighty Rockstars. We are talking about goal setting. Why? Because it’s what’s on deck in the book. Will the writing always be led by the book? Well, let’s see if that’s one of the goals! (Hint: If you know me at all, you probably already know the answer to this one)

Every single leadership, professional development, personal life management, everything ever since everything has emphasized goal setting.  Evidently, my new little book is no different. So, I consider this sage art. Again. With good intentions. Again.

Amy says decide what you want and then write them down. In fact, most every version of effective goal setting I have ever seen begins with some version of determine and scrawl.

And that’s where my train jumps the fucking tracks. Before I even get out of the crazy train station,

If we are friends in real life, on Facebook, or have had even a cursory encounter with me, you are probably aware of “The Many.” If you are not familiar, here’s a great recap.

Now often I have wished for a clone – more hours in the day, more hands, help with all the various things I am responsible for…The Many is not that. The Many are a bat shit crazy cornicopia of chicks living in my headspace. I have never been on a subway but I have been backstage at a strip club, lived in military quarters, and spend a good deal of time in beauty salons. I imagine if these locations mated together and had a baby, that’s what The Many would look like.

So take the folks from the subway, strip club, Navy, and the beauty salon into a confined space. Pass around the refreshments and encourage them to make a cohesive set of goals. Go ahead and do it. I’ll wait.

See my dilemma?

When I sit down to do any type of goal planning it always ends up the same…

I want all the things. All. Of. Them.

Even the things I don’t want, I want. I do not want to skydive. That shit totally freaks me out. But, I want to WANT to skydive. It’s fucking insanity.

I want:

  • attention while being a person who doesn’t want attention
  • to be a person who works 80 hours a week while having all the time in the world to do 100 other things
  • to party like a rockstar until 0400 and be up for the 0600 workout looking like Paige Hathaway
  • to push publish on every single thing I write and not be completely freaked the fuck out about how much you know about me
  • to eat donuts, pad thai, BBQ, pasta, and all the cheeses, while drinking copious amounts of not light beer while maintaining 14% body fat and “I hate her” abs
  • a closet full of clothes that make me feel awesome without ever having to shop again
  • to attend 0800 Mass on Sunday while lounging around on lazy Sundays until noon
  • to speak my mind with confidence
  • to run the Keys 100
  • to be the Mother of Dragons
  • put together a novel plot line that doesn’t make me feel like I’m a complete poser
  • to live life on a regular basis not feeling like a poser
  • to win the lotto without ever spending money on the lotto

At this point the whiteboard in the room is currently being wielded by one of The Many in a wide, erratic circle daring a bitch to come at her. Tables have been flipped, flasks have been pulled, and some are hiding in the broom closet waiting for the dust to settle. Which it won’t.

Coach that, badass.

Filed Under: The Thinking Chair Tagged With:

Because Fear

June 14, 2016 by

I once heard Oprah say that she believed there were only two base emotions – fear and love. All other emotions, in her estimation, grow out of those root two.

While I didn’t know it at the time, that statement fundamentally changed the way I viewed damn near everything. I considered for a long time the validity of the statement. That it resonated deep within me was true. But if that resonation warranted root or to be dismissed as a superficial feel good was something I had to ponder. It wasn’t until years later, after countless episodes of employing this “love/fear” filter, that I realized understanding this concept made me a better person. It fostered growth as a better listener, friend, thought sharer, problem solver, empathy giver, and communicator.

It also allows, when I can stomach it, a deeper ability for self discovery. To understand better, I am a person who really, really, REALLY loves self discovery – in theory. In practice, it routinely makes me want to vomit. A lot. The work creates the best/worst versions of nearly every aspect of my character (and there are a lot of them). Whether I come out on the other side a rising sun of badass warriorness or reduced to a quivering paralytic ball is really 50/50.

I used to take that chance, in small doses. However, this toe dipping rarely allowed for any real discovery and still had the same 50/50 outcome. The bang for the buck sucked. So, I hit the pause button and called that “being comfortable where I am” or “settled in my own skin.” Which is all total bullshit. I am built for journey and growth. I am built for movement and dynamic shuffling of all my voices. Stunting that, interestingly enough, creates the exact same 50/50.

So I don’t write, I don’t interact well with others, I don’t grow professionally, my energy lags, my health suffers, my brain tangles up, my heart hurts, my family misses out, my surrounding reflect the mess that is my spirit. I don’t write.

Because fear.

When this gets completely oppressive, I have a few band-aids to get me through. One of my favorite is the bookstore. I have found that I get nearly the same brain yum when I walk into the bookstore as when I am in the presence of big water; my brain calms down, my soul gets big, and my heart opens up. Incidentally, I have a lot of books. This is my newest one, The Writer’s Daily Companion by Amy Peters.

The Writers Daily Companion
The Writers Daily Companion

I love writing prompts. I love books on sale. This was both. But I have thrown enough money at useless drivel to know that not all prompt providers are the same. So I put down my 10,000 calorie, $155 Starbucks latte to investigate it a little further.

Writers Daily Companion Day 1
Writers Daily Companion Day 1

I didn’t really look any further in the book. It was going home with me and we both knew it.

Flannery O’Connor once said, “I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.” Writers do write for those who don’t have words of their own. Sometimes, that includes the writer herself.

Because fear.

The book sat next to the Thinking Chair for weeks. I realize I have neglected this journal for sometime and have not properly introduced you to the Thinking Chair. I apologize. I will. So it sat among the stacks of Thinking Chair hopefuls. Picking it up meant writing. Writing could mean anything. I am not always ready for anything.

As fate would have it, two girlfriends (both exceptional writers themselves – coincidence?) posted this Tennessee Williams quote. (Full disclosure I spent about two minutes vetting the source of the quote and could not find anything concrete, so I went with Mr. Williams)

And I cried.

Yes, I do that. More often than I care for anyone to know for reasons I am not always proud of.

Now what Mr. Williams said, while beautiful and currently being committed to my memory, is not actually what I heard. What I heard was…

Fear is everywhere and will eat you dead. Love is the only liberator. You are compelled to live your love. Write or the body burns down.

It took me another 12 hours to touch the keys. Another hour of fucking around before I made the first word.

Because fear.

Maybe I’ll work it out. Maybe it’ll be another 18 months before I come here again. Who knows. I do know this is the point in my posts where I typically wrap it up real cute like and put a little bow on the idea. I don’t have a bow. I have a burning house.

Filed Under: Chrysalis, Writing

Worry is a Lack of Confidence (AND an Energy Killer)

January 29, 2015 by

Worry does not empty tomorrow
of its sorrow.
It empties today
of its strength.
~ Corrie ten Boom (1892-1983)

I am often described as outgoing, boisterous, happy, and, yes, a bit obnoxiously perky (especially for those not as excited about the earlier hours). And those things (even the tendency towards the obnoxious) are true.

However, those who know me well will also tell you I also have a tendency to be anxious. My anxiety is sometimes warranted by actual causes for concern. More often, unfortunately, it is just a malfunction in the way I am wired; a reminder that I am, in fact, human and should remain gracious to all because we all have our challenges.

Having dealt with this for a really long time, I have gotten really good at talking myself down. I won’t bore you with the ins and outs of mindfulness based cognitive behavioral strategies or how diet and exercise really do matter. I will tell you that while it all works and I am very thankful for it, it is exhausting.

This is primarily the reason I am also know as an optimist. You will here me repeatedly say things like, “don’t borrow trouble,” “make one decision at a time,” “will will cross that bridge when we get there,” or, my favorite, “let’s step back and make sure we are looking at this right.”

Too often we create more worry by entertaining exaggerated worry over situations that actually require little if no worry at all. At which point we then proceed to escalate the situation. The situation needs attention. We worry. Worry makes us distracted, less focused, hesitant, and less capable to employ our abilities. This makes any situation worse. By the time we have worried all over it, we have created something to worry about!

Today I want to encourage you to focus on confidence. The number one reason for worry, insofar as I can tell, is lack of confidence in ones ability to handle whatever happens next. The future is the largest producer of anxiety. This is so unfortunate because the future holds so much hope and promise! The present is where our potential works and the future is the enjoyment of that success! To sabotage that and to steal that from ourselves is all we achieve when we worry. Our strength lives in certainty, assurance, and joy. That’s a much better basket of tricks than worry.

Filed Under: Turn Around Tuesday Tagged With: , ,

A Letter to My Senior

January 26, 2015 by

This was not my idea.

 

Dear Bear,

You are such a beautiful soul that I am always cautious when I impart advice to you. But, I am your Giver of Life. As such, I invoke the right that all Givers of Life have to dispense advice whether needed or not, requested or not, right or not, wanted or not. (In this particular instance, I also note that YOU required it of me at the bequest of your teacher; this is not to be used against me in any later therapy that you may or may not need.)

Trust yourself. You are wondrously made. If all people had the heart you possess, the world would be a better place. There will be many times you feel unsure, doubtful, fearful. That’s okay. We all feel that way. Know that you are more right than you are wrong most of time. Yes, this is true regardless of what other people may want you to believe.

Consume at least 64 ounces of water a day. (Water in your Starbucks lattes only count on Sunday.)

You will get it wrong. We all do. When it happens – and trust me sweet girl, it will happen – own it, fix what you can, leave what you can’t, and suck every piece of education you can from it. Failure is not something you are, it is something you do. It does not define you. It does not define them. Grace is a gift I hope you freely give to yourself and others. This is not a trait of the lax or the pushover. It takes strength and courage. Do not believe those that tell you otherwise.

Banana splits are occasionally acceptable for dinner.

Sometimes you just have to say “F(edited out of courtesy to your English teacher)k it” and move forward. Not all choices feel good and safe. Not all choices are fun and desirable. Some things just have to get done, left behind, cleaned up, walked over, turned out, wrapped up, thrown away. This is where life just is what it is. These things, being left to their own devices, only get worse. I promise you, what smells bad today only reeks worse tomorrow. Just bulldog it and move on.

Drink with people who love you. Be the designated driver for those who don’t.

Be real careful what “they” you listen to. There is a whole world filled with the ominous “they.” We aren’t really sure who they are, what type of training they have, what their agenda is, but we are pretty sure they live in their parents’ basement nomming on cheesy poofs playing Dungeon and Dragons. “They” have big mouths and are currently trying to figure out how to make a living trolling the internet. They do not have girlfriends. Easy filter – if “they” insists that everything sucks and nothing you do is right and the entire existence of the world is a big conspiracy meant to create entire subcultures of GMO tolerant, gluten adverse, non vaccinated, obese fast food consumers, breastfed gym rats that poo granola Oreos, you are probably dealing with a “they.” Abraham Lincoln said it best – “Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.”

Semicolons are sexy. Learn how to use them.

There are assholes everywhere; that doesn’t define the “everywhere.” (Sorry, the edit just didn’t do the thought justice. Besides, you’re a senior, you can handle it.) Every sect – professions, neighborhoods, races, religions, clubs, cults, PTOs, opinion groups – is just a microcosm of society. A bad cop, teacher, solider, sailor, politician, mommy, doctor, teenager, old person does not provide reason to assume that all folks in that particular demographic are idiots. Quite frankly, it doesn’t necessarily mean the offender is an idiot. We all have bad days. And we all have folks in our groups that we would rather we didn’t. Boxes are for shoes, not people. Everyone is created as an individual and deserves the consideration of an individual. Of course, if they prove themselves individually to be the designated asshole, take them at their word that’s who they are and move on.

Don’t be afraid of profanity. It is not a sign of weak vocabulary any more than a love of chocolate is a sign of a weak diet. Sometimes, they both just taste good.

Different is not wrong – it’s just different. Your dad likes to cut up his steak as he eats it. I like to cut up mine all at one time. You like to have your dad cut up yours. None of those things are wrong – they are just different. Be wary of people who try to make “different” = “wrong” as they are usually covering up for some feeling of personal inadequacies that I can bet money you don’t want any part of.

Be a rebel. End sentences with prepositions. Unless you are speaking Latin. Or honoring Yoda.

If you realize one day that all your friends are alike, get new friends. I’m not saying cut the old ones loose. I’m just saying you need to grow your circle. There is no better way to become an asshole than to surround yourself with people who always think like you, agree with you, and are a whole lot like you. Nature shows us this. If we plant the same crop over and over in the same field, eventually the ground dries up and produces trash. Diversity in relationship is the single best thing you can do to ensure you do not become stale as a person. It also makes coffee shop conversation much more interesting.

Disregard that thing I said about profanity around your great grandmother. Thanks.

Don’t ever make one decision out of fear. It is my belief that there are only two true emotions in life – love and fear. I don’t have to tell you that one is exponentially more productive than the other. There are times you will find yourself afraid or feeling one of its offspring emotions – hate, anger, depression, spite, resentment. Don’t beat yourself up about that as it is natural and human. It is in those human places that we are able to work through and find those ways to be more human. That is where we find grace, compassion, courage. Make decisions in that space. It is worth the work.

Do not make a habit of eating food that comes out of a window.

Make the commitment to love forever. There are so many obstacles and story spinners out there trying to convince you that love is not the answer. They need your love most of all. Love animals, love people, love babies, love criminals, love saints, love the broken, love the healed, love yourself…always love yourself. This is not always easy and sometimes it can only be done in a detached, acknowledged only in a broad sense type of way. There are atrocities in this world that will bend your heart to the point you think it will break. People will be careless with your emotions and you will hurt. You will look at yourself in the mirror and find an imaginary million and one ways in which you don’t measure up. Don’t be surprised when it happens and don’t let it define who you are. Your heart is the most beautiful thing ever created. Share it, be prepared to nurse it, do not hold fear in it.

My baby girl, there are so many more things I want to tell you…

  • Never go on a second date with someone who is mean to the wait staff
  • Live your passion
  • Never leave home without your sketchbook
  • Sometimes going to the store in pajama pants is necessary
  • Exercise
  • Volunteer
  • Always have a book to read
  • Compliment others
  • You can always come home
  • I am never further than a phone call
  • Diet soda is for crazy people – just drink the regular stuff

But most of all I want you to know that when you feel like it doesn’t matter, you don’t make a difference, you aren’t capable of being in this adult world – you are wrong. You have been changing lives since the day you were born. Who I am now is so much because of you. It scares me to think who I would have become without you. Thank you for growing up with me. I am so glad you are my kid.

Love,

Momma

 

Filed Under: Family, Parenting Tagged With: ,

The Tale of the Sometimes Always Writer

January 25, 2015 by

Flannery O'ConnorI am a writer. I have always been a writer. Okay, so maybe when I was first born and not yet able to hold a pencil and all that literal shit, I was NOT a writer. But in my body, in my spirit, I have always been a writer.

Notice I didn’t say brain. Writing isn’t in the brain. Grammar, spelling, punctuation – that’s in the brain. Writing is somewhere else. It is ethereal.

When I was on deployment I always kept the pictures of my family put away. Tucked into my Bible is where they stayed. I didn’t pin them up, tape them to my bunk or inside my locker. I hid them. In order to remain sane so far away from them, I couldn’t look at those pictures unprepared. I had to be ready for it. Otherwise, it would throw me into a spiral of whatever that ache is that you get when you can’t put your hands on your children or kiss your lover’s forehead. A person can’t live like that.

Such is the danger of a writer. You can’t always go there. Well, put a better way – I haven’t always been able to go there.
Private Thoughts

I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say ~ Flannery O’Connor

And I am not always prepared to know what I think. There are some moments, days, periods of life that are just not appropriate for in-depth contemplation. Sometimes after the spouse is adored, kids are nurtured, career is clocked, food is served, teeth are brushed, I am grateful to maybe have enough energy to fold the laundry, and, if it is a particularly great day, have enough left in the tank to carry on an adult conversation with a girlfriend who has been seriously neglected. To add an in-depth conversation with myself? Yeah, no.

I am not afraid of my truthSo, no writing.

As a point of explanation, that entire “not prepared to know what I think” paragraph had to be paused, rewritten, edited for content as there is too much left to say and analyze between the spaces and commas. I don’t have time for that.

In addition to not having time, I don’t have the inclination. I have a hard time with private writing. I heard somewhere that George Washington said, “Never write down anything you don’t want the whole world to read.” I don’t care enough to google the authenticity of that citation. The point is I believe the sentiment.

Therefore, I rarely write what I can’t publish. I don’t trust it. That being true, there is a ton of stuff in my brain that will never find the page. While necessary, the downside of that is periods of time where I just will not write. It is just too much to figure out the best way to balance authenticity with tact, honesty with privacy, truth with rant.

I am a universe of secretsIt’s a conundrum really. Which I suppose is only fitting. I have often felt a conundrum myself; multiple ideas of a person wrapped in one flesh. It often leaves me with a feeling of anxiety based on the fear that I am, once again, overthinking a situation. The truth is, I probably am but anxiety in that area is unwarranted. The bigger truth is that I am learning to process and that single act has me on track to being a more comfortable me. It’s quite the experience to scratch the surface of the courage to embrace that odd cattywampus juxtaposition of self that so often feels…well…unknowable.

So maybe I will just have to write about it…

Filed Under: Writing

Stay Outta My Shit, White Woman

November 7, 2014 by

My fitness pals will tell you there is something about spandex shorts, sports bras, and competition bikinis that have a tendency to send the female brain – and mouth – straight back to middle school. But I am here to tell you, nothing seems to turn some women into high nose mean girls like politics.

I am beyond over it.

Evidently, according to Andrea Grimes and Jenny Kutner (whom I do not know so I can only presume they don’t know me. As an aside, no one I have talked to knows them either so I am assuming they don’t know them either. Therefore, I can only imagine that out of the roughly 160 million women living in the US, combined, they don’t know most of them either) because their choice in politician didn’t get elected, I am, once again, a failure as a woman. Not just a woman, but a white woman. Are you serious right now?

Thanks ladies. Like I needed. One. More. Damn. Thing.

Look, I am not going to pretend I fully understand the the issues in Texas – I live in Georgia. But, if I may paint with a broad brush for just a moment; Ms. (I hope that is not offensive being it isn’t gender neutral and shit. But what the hell, I’m already an asshole to her so maybe I’ll take to calling her “honey” because hey, I’m hick from the sticks) Grimes asserts that a vote for her candidate meant

a vote for strong public school funding, for Texas Medicaid expansion, for affordable family planning care, for environmental reforms, for access to a full spectrum of reproductive health-care options

while

a vote for Greg Abbott meant a vote for the status quo, for empowering big industry and big political donors, for cutting public school funds and dismantling the Affordable Care Act, for overturning Roe v. Wade

Let me clue you in on something. Based on what I see here, I would have voted for Greg Abbott too.

Here are some things that I know

  1. Politics has become little more than marketing and public relations
  2. If a person has a dog in the hunt, you can usually take the good they say about their side and the bad they say about the other side and cut both levels in half and you are probably now closer to the truth

Taking that into consideration I am going to bet Greg Abbott doesn’t sit in a secret lair throwing little children into a cauldron laughing at sucky schools passing out cigars to his high dollar friends. Maybe he does the latter. I dunno. Know what else, I don’t have a problem with the latter.

If you tell me no other information other than a candidate is pro capitalism, Affordable Care Act opposed, and abortion opposed, I will deduce that their general philosophy on most things are inline with mine. Am I always right? Obviously not. But let me clue these ladies in on something

It is my vote and you do not get to determine whether or not I  fucked it up.

Just because we share common anatomical traits does not mean, nor has ever meant, that we hold the same set of ideas or priorities. When people use terms like “the women vote” and “women issues” my face turns redder than Texas. I mean seriously, what the hell? My vagina makes me compelled to function like a Toy Story LGM? And the most interesting thing about this concept is those women most compelling it forward are the SAME women who will claim they are empowering women.

No ladies, you are not attempting to empower women – you are attempting to empower Women. Like. You.

I’d like to direct your attention to The Constitution. I am beginning to realize how neglected it is. So let’s take a little look see at it – in particular the 19th Amendment which says

 The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex. Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.

Because I can’t help myself, I’m going to also add that the vote for this gem in the Senate back in 1919 had been a long fought battle for the Republicans in a Democratic controlled House…right up until the moment President Wilson took us into World War I, a break of a big campaign promise, and the  Democrats took a whalloping in the 1918 midterm.

Now, with Republican control, the 19th Amendment finally made it through the House,  304 to 89.

Don’t worry ladies. The GOP isn’t looking for a thank you card. You’re welcome anyway.

In the Senate the vote was 56 to 25 broken down as

Yay – 36 (R) 20(D)
Nay – 8 (R) 17 (D)

This little piece of work granted each woman her OWN vote. Not the vote of her husband, not the vote of her boss, the vote of her children, her parents, her girlfriends – a vote of her very own. You’ll be interested to know that the 15th Amendment, also a piece of Republican legislation, was ratified earlier in 1870 and protected the right to vote regardless of “race, color, or previous condition of servitude.” Which means that even as a white woman, my vote is still mine.

Which is awesome, because I can guarantee you don’t want me voting in your place any more than I want you voting in mine.

Filed Under: Current Events, Political Theory

An Open Letter to the Recently Elected

November 5, 2014 by

Dear recently elected,

I feel the need to be clear. I did not vote for you because I thought you were the most qualified person for the job – I voted for you because you were the most qualified of those who could be elected for the job in that little booth.

While I am only one person, I feel pretty comfortable asserting that you were not voted into office for your stance on any party platform. While the topics concerning gay marriage, weed, guns, abortion, immigration, etc. are all very, very important, I would wager that many in every sexual, religious, racial, financial, stoned demographic are just ready for government to do its damn job. If you need a point of reference for what that is, I direct you to a little thing known as The Constitution. In the name of all that is holy I pray you have heard of it. You’re welcome.

In the days to come you will be tempted to think yourself more than you ought. Don’t. The majority of the population is just waiting, dare I say expecting, for you to eff this up.

You know what pisses you off about people – dishonesty, passing the buck, blatant distraction, assbackward leadership, conniving trickery, stubbornness, weakness, bloated condescension, dishonesty (yes, I know I said it twice) – well, it pisses the rest of us off too – just in case you were wondering how that kind of stuff would go over.

However, I love this country and so I appreciate you. I think this is a new day and you, in light of your newly elected position, deserve a chance to do what you said you were going to do. I will make a choice to have faith in you (as asinine as some might believe that to be).

Congratulations. Don’t eff this up,
~ Me

Filed Under: Current Events, Political Theory

Turn Around Tuesday ~ John Smoltz ~ Why Not?

February 26, 2014 by

Tuesday’s Thought

In truth, my answer to all these questions is the same, and it’s far simpler than many believe: Why Not?

Why not do what you love for as long as you are physically able? Why not take risks, as long as they are calculated? Why not chase what some see as impossible? Why not believe in yourself? Why not dare to be great…even if it means being different?

Why not?

~ John Smoltz Atlanta Braves Pitcher (ret.)

A Bit of Encouragement… (FILES) This 25 August, 2002, file photo
If you ask my husband why I do some of the things I do, he will say (with a look that may mean either compliment or criticism), “Because she is bored and she needs something hard to do.”

There is some bit of truth to that. I do tend to find excitement in difficult things that appear to have characteristics that make them possible for me. Notice the qualifier that I put right there? It’s an important one. In other words, I am not beating myself over the head trying to win The Voice (you’re welcome), but have toyed with the idea of Master Chef.

Running Ultra Marathons is hard. Heck, some days running 5 minutes is hard. And I love it not for the difficulty alone, but for the treasures found within the difficulty. There is a power there physically when I realize all my body will do. There are mental wins when I push through doubts. There’s a lot of self realization that happens when you are running 50 miles at a time.

Raising four daughters in a culture such as ours is hard. Working full time trying to make a go in this economy is hard. Working on food issues and being healthy is hard. Participating in civic responsibilities with so many other demands on my time is hard.

But I don’t need to tell y’all any of this. The folks I know do hard stuff everyday. Some of it is the same kind of hard. Others tackle their own mountains – caregivers, wellness fighters, social movers, family dynamics, professional feats, economic acrobatics. Sometimes, getting out of bed and facing the world is a major win for the day.

embrace-the-suckI also know you wouldn’t trade the rewards for the world.

Today I want to encourage you to embrace the rewards that others pass up because you will do the things that others won’t do. And I know that sometimes the hardest part is not the thing, but the questioning doubts of those around you about the thing. Why put yourself through that? Why take that chance? Why bother with the amazing when the regular is easier? Those kinds of questions can bust up the truth we already know. Let me remind you. Because you are capable. You are more than capable – you are meant to be better today than you were yesterday. We have a better version of ourselves waiting in the wings to be cultivated and explored. This is a pretty amazing thought since we are already pretty great people. But that’s why we are great – we aren’t settling. We don’t have to.

Filed Under: Chrysalis, Turn Around Tuesday

The Biggest Mouths

February 20, 2014 by

So, I have waited just a little while before weighing in on The Biggest Loser controversy. (See what I did there? I almost reworded that. Then I decided, “What the hell. Let’s throw bad puns to the wall and see what pretty colors it makes!”)

Rachel-300x254If you are not a Biggest Loser fan and somehow missed the February 4th storm, here is a brief synopsis. 24 year old Rachel Frederickson became the 15th Biggest Loser winner weighing in at 105 pounds. Her starting weight of 260 meant that Rachel had lost 155 pounds, 60% of her total body weight, in about 8 months.

Twitterverse exploded. Blogs rang out. Facebook posts abounded. I think petitions were circulated, a posse was rounded up, and an inquisition was launched to investigate whether or not Dolvett had let her eat in the last 6 weeks.

Seriously, the reaction, including that of the show’s participants, was intense.

She was labeled as astonishingly frail, lost too much weight, unhealthy, too skinny, and had an eating disorder.  This, said The They, was what has always been wrong with show. This corruptible and damned piece of reality television. Rachel was ushered in as the Queen Madame of all that was wrong with young girls, body image, healthy living, life balance, and, I think, the crash of the housing market was eventually tied to her as well.

The onslaught was intense. The battery of insults, accusations, and finger wagging coming from The They behind the keyboards was such that I felt the residual heat. My first reaction – which I tend to trust yet investigate – was.

Damn, some folks who don’t know anything sure are saying it with big mouths.

Understand, I am a huge critic of pop culture, media influence, and have expressed general disgust over the handling of what some folks would call “entertainment.” Hell, I have banned The Little Mermaid from my house. There are quite a few pieces of TV production that I would label as dangerous, irresponsible, and down right trash. The Biggest Loser isn’t one of them.

Do I recognize that is only my opinion? It’s a blog, of course I do.

Do I recognize that some folks may have a disposition, challenge, or other personal hurdle that makes a show like The Biggest Loser a trigger point? Of course I do, I have the same kind of shows. For instance, Honey Boo Boo makes me want to slap people and The Bachelor(ette) makes me want to punch them in the throat.  I am the momma of four daughters. I think Honey Boo Boo is an abused child and I hate watching girls go to any length to get a freaking flower. Seriously, you would date a guy that you knew was dating 20 other girls? No, you wouldn’t. But I digress.

But, The Biggest Loser has just wrapped up its 15th season. 300 participants have appeared on the show in the past 10 years.  Some of the past winners have had starting BMI’s in the 60s. Yes, BMI, 60s. The show does not promote surgeries, supplements, fat burners, or the like. In fact, we saw what happened earlier in the season when Jillian committed what was called “an unprecedented violation.” She gave them caffeine pills. Even that is not allowed.

biggest-loser-then-and-now15 seasons, 300 contestants, certified trainers, nutritionist, therapists, medical doctors. The Biggest Loser’s cardinal sin, as far as I can tell, is that there is a cash payout.

Now I do wish there were some aspects of the show that were different – most notably the grotesque product placement. I wish they were able to make their marketing budget by promoting local produce, farmers markets, and the like. But hey, it is a business. I am sure the folks who participate in sponsorships and product sales to supplement their fitness businesses understand that.

Outside of the show format itself, what Rachel has accomplished isn’t the big bag of evil it is being portrayed as. At 105 pounds she is, by the guidelines, underweight. By THREE WHOLE pounds. I can lose and gain three pounds with water pills and few beers. So what if she cut the last couple of days leading up to the competition to win a quarter mil?? Boxers do it. MMA fighters do it. Body builders do it. Wrestlers do it. Lots of healthy, strong, athletes cut to make weight and/or appearance.

But it isn’t healthy said The They – neither was being 260 pounds and living off pizza.

And I look at the things they said about her again – astonishingly frail, lost too much weight, unhealthy, too skinny – and thought “double standard”

I hate that. Quite frankly, most people do. Wanna see a facebook post blow up? Go to a female body builders page (which I love, by the way), find a pose picture and tell her she is too big, too muscley and looks like a man.

Let me look at the overweight They who criticized her and call them astonishingly fat, ask about the big meat wrapped around the big bones, grossly unhealthy, and tell them the buffet line is closed. I would never be allowed to say that about people. Why? Because it is wrong, it is ugly, and it is hurtful.

It didn’t sound any better when The They said it.

But I think the angle that pissed me off the most was the accusations that she had daddy issues, low self esteem, and, ultimately, she must have an eating disorder. Rachel became the poster child for what it looks like to have an unhealthy relationship with a dinner plate.

Except no one – NO ONE – knew that to be true. In fact, it still isn’t true. And it doesn’t matter how many times The They say it – it is not fact that Rachel has any type of mental challenge in the area of nutrition at all.

But her name still came out of people’s mouths like they knew her. And seriously, I hate that.  The same “feel good, don’t judge me if you don’t know me, everyone has their own journey” They suddenly had some personal hotline into the life and motivation of a woman they had never met.

Never met. As in, don’t know, haven’t shared a meal with, no access to schedule, no conversation. In short, no clue about her, where she comes from or what she’s doing.

I bought People magazine because she was on the cover. Don’t judge. I wanted to know what she said. And here it is.

I am proud of my journey and excited for this new life…I’ve never felt better. I keep saying it: I am healthy.

Then rock on baby girl. Rock. On.

Filed Under: Health and Wellness, The Thinking Chair