Remodeling my spirit...

Yesterday I went on a home tour in Historic Riverside. I had the opportunity to get a feel for what Jacksonville was like in the early 1900's. It was amazing seeing all the old windows, bathtubs, doorknobs, and sinks. Some houses had been remodeled and some not so much. One home in particular that was situated on the river had been significantly redone. It had four bedrooms, not including the one they had turned into a walk-in closet. It was ridiculously huge. They had a fully stocked kitchen with a double oven, and a big back patio facing the river. Man, there were even ladies walking around dressed in french maid outfits passing out hors d'oeuvres. All I could think about as I stood looking out their balcony onto the river was how do you live here and still have problems? You wake up in the morning to this beautiful view of the river; you come home from work where you can sit outside and read next to a beautiful view of the river. How could you ever complain about anything ever again?

Then I reversed the thought. There are probably several people who would walk through my house and think something along similar lines. Compared to some, my house might seem more than enough. So, in line with my own thinking, how can I ever complain about anything again? I wish it were that easy. It's like when you are feeling low and playing the "why me" card, and someone tells you to suck it up cause other people have it much worse than you. Has that ever made anyone feel better about their own situation? Not me. We're too self-absorbed for that. Not in a bad way, but in a necessary way. If we were to take on all of the plights of those less fortunate than ourselves, we'd be buried in grief. And, what good would that do?

So back to the house. It was a very nice house, but regardless of the view, my favorite was the first one I visited. It was built in the early 1900's. It had been fixed up but still had some of the old features, like the old rope-and-pulley system for opening the windows. It had all tin roofs. It had a huge porch/balcony on the second floor overlooking the neighborhood which was filled with huge old oak trees. It was peaceful. It was beautiful. But one thing it was not was perfect, the kind of perfect the house on the river was. And I liked that. It had spirit. And nothing that is perfect has spirit.


Unfortunately, the home tour was a spontaneous adventure, so I was without camera. < Insert photo of cute little kid here. >

Trashing the goals...

Not to use an overused metaphor, but I stopped in front of the elevator tonight after helping a couple get their DVD player working, and realized that I'm always running. Running after something. Running and waiting. Waiting for something. Happiness, perhaps. Like, waiting til I can quit my job. Or waiting to pay off my credit card debt. Or waiting til Craig makes more money. Or waiting til I write a book. Everything in my life is completely goal-oriented. I've written about this before concerning the little things, like the fact that I am always doing something productive and can't relax. But, now I'm seeing it in the whole. My whole life is one big goal and I am beginning to realize I will never get there, wherever it is I am going.

When running long distance, one technique that some use to get them through is to focus on an object in the distance. You tell yourself you can make it there. Then once you get there, you pick a new object in the distance and tell yourself you can make it there. Thus is my life. I pick one goal, which is just replaced with another and another, resulting in my never feeling any sense of accomplishment or peace. So I started to question goals in general. Are goals bad? Do they insinuate that something is wrong with life and needs to be changed? Yet, if we think about it, nothing is actually wrong with our lives, because they are as they should be. And we know they are as they should be because that is how they are. At least, this is what I'm learning from Byron Katie. But my goal today of drinking 60 ounces of water was not bad. It gave me something to strive for, and even though I came up short I was proud of what I did manage to ingest.

I don't know if goals are bad, but I do know that I don't need to know. All I know is I want to stop living my life focused on some point in the distance. It's such a waste. I want to focus on what's in front of me. And, right this moment, that is a cute little Chihuahua with his head resting on my stomach.


Another goal my husband and I have is to eat more vegetables. I am probably the only Mexican who doesn't like corn, but this corn was actually very good, to eat and photograph.

Getting dirty...

When I was on the track team in junior high, there was this girl on the team who would always show up to practice- 10 minutes late, of course- dressed in the nicest, cleanest, newest- matching, of course- running outfits purchased by her mother at The Sports Authority. I remember the first time I saw her through my legs as I was leaned over stretching, thinking that she wouldn't last the season. I was right.

I was trippin' on the quote I posted yesterday more this evening when I thought of that girl. When you show up for some gut-busting, sweaty, hardcore training, you don't come in looking perfect. If you do, then your focus is most assuredly in the wrong place. This is how I see the people whom Martha Beck was referring to in her quote. The ones who focus on having the perfect house, the perfect spouse, the perfect kids, the perfect job. If you're that focused on how things look, there is no energy left over for the important things- the living, the loving, the raising, the working. Life is uphill and all-terrain. You gotta show up on time and focused on what's important. And ready to get dirty.

This then reminded me of my favorite story in the book, The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. He told of how he stopped by to pick up his niece and nephew in his new sports car one afternoon. His sister, their mom, told them sternly as he waited that they were not to mess up their uncle's new car. As she was instructing them on the importance of treating things with respect, the kids tried not to laugh as they watched Randy pouring a full can of soda onto the backseat, smiling the whole time. His point was obviously to make a very clear argument that things are not what is important. He said that later in the day his nephew did not feel guilty when he got sick and threw up in the backseat.

Next time you go to polish your showpiece, whether it's your sports car or your life, remember that life is a hands-on sport and if you don't get dirty, you're not doing it right.


Life isn't perfect; get dirty.

Finding peace with Hall & Oates...

It is now officially Thursday. Thank God. While I don't feel I gained much from my reading deprivation, I will say I enjoyed jamming to tunes while driving. It was a rather nice change from my continuous rotation of audio books. My current obsession is Hall & Oates. My husband, being a musician, gets to meet famous people somewhat regularly, but it rarely impresses me much. Unless it's No Doubt or Ben Folds, I don't really care. However, a month or so ago while working at the hotel, I received a text from him saying he was hanging backstage with John Oates of Hall & Oates. Well, all of my couth flew out the window and was replaced with a spark of jealousy. I was so excited I proceeded to tell my coworker and the man he was checking in, which I would normally consider quite unprofessional. Though, this led to a beautiful duet of Sara Smile between my coworker and me, which would be much funnier if you knew him and how straight-laced he is. Anyhow, the good- no, amazing- news is that soon I will be texting people telling them that I am hanging out backstage with Hall AND Oates! They will be playing a show in my husband's hometown on his mom's birthday, the day before my birthday, and we are going! I can't wait! After a lame 30th by myself last year, this year's celebration will more than make up for it. I can still remember listening to them on my old black cassette tape, asking for their new tape for Christmas, and being scared of Maneater when I was little. So great.

In fact, they inspired me to create my own rockin' 80's mix yesterday. I'm talkin' about a good mix, not the ones you buy in Wal-Mart that only include songs from Molly Ringwald movies. I have some Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam in there, some Jets, and some Tubes, and The Human League. The good stuff, in other words. Listening to that stuff lifts me up. It's like oldies. You can't be in a horrible mood and listen to this music. It's too happy. I wish music were still like that. It's amazing the effect so many tiny little things can have on your mood. When you surround yourself with positive people, with things you love, colors you love, music that is uplifting and fun, books that make you think, sounds and smells that relax you, you are filled with peace. Unfortunately, our culture is not filled with a lot of these things. So it becomes dangerous to partake in certain simple behaviors. I got a particularly cool quote in my inbox today from Martha Beck, life coach extraordinaire. It said:

"Begin making choices based on what makes you feel freer and happier, rather than how you think an ideal life should look. It’s the process of feeling our way toward happiness, not the realizing of some Platonic ideal, that creates our best lives."

I think this is a huge statement. So many of us in this country are blinded by the pictures in the magazines and the families in the movies. We want this; we want that. We want other people to see us as this or that. But what looks good is often not what feels good. The good news is that what feels good is often way simpler to achieve. Sitting outside and feeling the breeze on your face. Going to Dave and Buster's out of the blue and playing video games with your husband for no reason at all. Weeding your garden just to feel the dirt between your fingers. Listening to Hall & Oates. Surrounding yourself with peace brings that peace within.


So, as The Human League so simply put it:
Keep feeling fascination. Looking, learning, moving on.

Stepping on others' stones...

Finally on Day 6 of the Reading Deprivation, some light breaks through...

I recently cut back on my Coke intake to help me lose a couple pounds. Once you only allow yourself one Coke a day, that one Coke tastes like the best damn Coke you've ever had. Likewise with reading. Giving it up for a week has definitely shown me, though I already had an inkling, just how much I value it. This past week I have noticed a decrease in my thought, which made me realize how many of my thoughts are born of others' thoughts. It reminds me of Gwen Stefani. Whenever people praise her music or fashion, she responds by saying that she stole it. She always claims that she steals ideas from the greats and just tweaks them in her own way. This I have found is what I do with reading. It's not so much stealing, but almost as if one thought begets another which begets another which begets another. So I build my thoughts off of other people's, which allows thought to grow and multiply.

I am lucky enough to have people in my life who question me. Like my friend Cara. She commented on my post yesterday and forced me to call into question the reason I was undertaking this deprivation project in the first place. After reading her thoughts, my own thoughts began to flow. And the answer that resulted was this: I am pursuing this deprivation project because I am putting my faith in the experience of the author who recommended it. I trust her because of the power of her previous insights. Therefore, I am willing to embark on this uncomfortable, sometimes unbearable, undertaking. Even when I was tempted to quit, my faith was so strong, that I kept it up. This does not mean that my journey will necessarily end with success. I am quite aware of the fact that this particular exercise may not be for me. Perhaps not now, or ever. But I am willing to take that risk for the possible benefit, which is also unclear. Maybe I will become a better writer somehow or a better person. I don't know. But I am willing to take different routes cut out by those before me, if just for the scenery.

I caught the tail end of Mona Lisa Smile today, the girl version of Dead Poet's Society. In it, a female teacher calls into question many of the cultural beliefs and attitudes that defined the 1950's woman. The credits are accompanied by video of the Mrs. America contest, in which married women compete in such categories as vacuuming and making beds. Today these scenes come across as nauseating. We all- the majority at least- would now say that independence is an obvious right for women, just as it is for men. But back then, only 50 or so years ago, this view was ludicrous. How many times have new thoughts wreaked havoc, only to be accepted by later generations as obvious? Need I reiterate the old world is flat parable? How many times must this chain of events play out before people stop being so afraid of new ideas?

If this particular author has had success with this particular exercise, I'm gonna give it a try. Not berate the person because I think her idea will cause me temporary discomfort. Not call her the anti-Christ because her view might challenge one I have held for years. Not laugh at her when it doesn't work out the way she or I expected. We teach our children to respect their elders all the time due to their experience. We teach our children if at first they don't succeed, try, try again. Why shouldn't we as adults be a living example? I for one chose to put my faith in people, not ideas. So if I try an idea and it doesn't work, you'll find me plowing my way through a new one, questioning myself with every step.


Yoda says, “Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”

Looking for inspiration...

Day 5 of the Reading Deprivation Project and I can tell you it sucks. I have not felt an increase in my flow of thoughts. I have not felt a release from the deluge of words. I have felt frustrated and alone. Do you realize how horribly awful it is to have an hour to yourself on a weekend afternoon with the sun shining outside and a cool breeze blowing and no book with which to share it? It sucks, I tell you. In fact, I almost gave up today. But I thought, no I only have two days left, I'm doing this. Though I must admit I cheated a little yesterday. I was at the hotel and absolutely nothing was going on. So I read an article on Oprah.com. Ok, so I'm not proud of it, but I purge myself of it now. And, yes I read an article on Asperger's for work, but not the whole thing, only 96%. But that is all. I have already two books in my possession that I plan to pick up the moment Thursday comes, and one on the way in the mail. I cannot wait.

However, I will say I picked a good week to give up reading, as I spent two days out of the weekend baking R2D2 cakes for my nephew's birthday party. And, I mean I spent all day. Hence the lack of recent posts. So, with my valuable time not spent reading I have cleaned the house and baked small cakes in the shape of robots. Not quite the high expectations the book gave me. The scary thing is I started back to daily blogging to try to help my thought process, and that doesn't seemed to have helped much either. So now the question is how do I get my mojo back?

I still observe to a point, and I am still inspired by people, music, and events, but not to the degree I once was. I am pretty fully satisfied in my life as of now. In doing my exercises as outlined by The Artist's Way today I had to complete the sentence, The thing I am lacking most in my life right now is... It took me several minutes to come up with an answer. That is a good sign. But now that I think of it, my answer should have been easy. The thing I am lacking most in my life right now is thought.


In my off time I play a cake decorator. These are not my best work, but they were definitely the hardest work thus far.

Escaping from words (just for a moment)...

I am about to embark on a frightening journey. The author of The Artist's Way calls it "Reading Deprivation". I call it scary. Usually deprivation is used in terms of sleep deprivation or sensory deprivation and other mind-altering situations where one ends up seeing spiders that aren't there or floating through unfamiliar dream lands. I have been following the program outlined by The Artist's Way for 5 weeks now. Each week there is a reading provided, along with writing activities and thought exercises to help open up your well of creativity. So far, so amazing. Everything the author has claimed would happen along these five weeks has. What's more, everything she has claimed most artists struggle with has been a perfect reflection of me. I could open up the book to any one spot and start reading and feel as though she were writing it specifically for me. It's like The Neverending Story.

But last week one of the exercises was this reading deprivation craziness. For one week, you are not allowed to read ANYTHING, other than the workbook. Not even a newspaper! (Good thing I don't read the paper.) I decided- however scary- that I would embark on this assignment in faith, because all of the other exercises have led to significant gains in my artist path. However, I had to put it off for a week because I was in the process of completing all of Dave Pelzer's books before I saw him speak. Now, having accomplished that, and having completed his brother's book, I am almost ready. I am on the final cd of Committed, and as soon as it is finished I will be sans book for a week. Today getting ready for work actually, I went to grab my book as I always bring one in case one of my students stands me up, when I realized I didn't have one. So, however sad this sounds, I grabbed one just to have close by, even though I'm not allowed to read it for a week!

So the point? The point of the exercise is to use that time usually spent reading engaging yourself in other tasks, as well as to free yourself from the continuous onslaught of words for a breather. Tonight when I might have been reading, I instead cleaned the kitchen and organized the bathroom shelves a bit. Hopefully tomorrow my new-found time will be spend a bit more interestingly. But we shall see. I am eager to see how I spend the time. I think it will say a lot. But already, even before it has begun, I am eagerly awaiting the day it is over. I already have two books I want to read on the horizon! Actually three. Ok, make that four...


This is a photo of the drum playing rooster that guards our home that I took before our walk this evening. Maybe with all my free time this week I will take more pictures, or maybe even play the drums some!

Stepping out of the trap...

After having blogged so highly about the book Committed, today it turned me off. I have entered the section on motherhood in relation to marriage, and let me say Gilbert's thoughts on this area are highly negative and entirely limited. Perhaps I'm only hearing my deepest fears and missing the boat, but to me, her words were literally and figuratively in black and white. Although I could stomach her frequent reference to marriage as the loss of identity for both parties- which in my experience has been quite the opposite- hearing her define motherhood as a woman giving up her soul made me want to hurl. Now, in her defense, she herself does not want things this way and pleads for our country to find a way so that this is not be the case. However, I don't think it is in the first place.

Never having been a mother, I can only speak from a place of expectancy and hope, but I for one do not plan on giving up my entire self when I give birth to a child. In fact, in my mind that can hurt a child as much as it can help. In my reading of The Artist's Way today, I learned about what the author refers to as "The Virtue Trap". This is the ugly, dark place we squeeze ourselves into when we trade our importance for another's. She gives the example of a husband spending all his free time with his wife, though what he really needs is some alone time. She tells of a mother whose pottery classes, which she loves, interfere with her child's baseball practice, so she quits. And, the father who, though his love for photography leads him to yearn for his own dark room, spends the money instead on a couch that will benefit the whole family.

I myself have lived my entire life in this trap. I am familiar with its wicked ways. But as I listened to the words of both authors today, I pulled away from the immediate and looked out upon the overall. Will my children benefit more from my giving up everything I love for them? Or will they benefit more from seeing me balance my needs with theirs and those of their father? If we are having such a hard time making sacrifice after sacrifice, why would we want to model that for, thereby passing that on to, our kids? It is precisely this reason that I will never ask my husband to quit his job when we have children, though it causes him to travel around the world quite frequently. I would rather my children have a happy example of a person who follows his heart than a man "making a living" devoid of passion, yet filled with regret. How does that benefit a child or a marriage?

So, to me, Gilbert's words ring absolutely false. I am by no means championing the idea of the woman who does it all. No, no, no. I hate that mentality. I am championing the idea of a family who is there for each other. Not just a mother who is there for everyone else. There is no better time for a child to learn that he must at times forfeit his own happiness for others than the present. So if little Billy Ray has to step back on baseball practice so that his mom can go to pottery class every once in a while, I believe he will be a better man for it.


One lesson that my friends taught at the thespian conference last weekend that I absolutely loved was don't be nice. They were leading a partner task in physical acting, and they pointed out that if you are "nice" to your partner, thereby doing the work for them, they will not learn, they will not grow. Enough of this being nice stuff! We are making life too easy for each other, and definitely for our kids. Maybe it's time we stopped being so nice and instead started supporting each other's growth.

Easing up...

I am listening to the greatest audio book right now. In fact it saved me on my drive to Tampa this past weekend by keeping me awake. It was written by Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, an amazing book whose movie version starring my fave, Julia Roberts as Elizabeth, is coming out on August 13th! I can't wait! This book, her follow up to EPL, is titled Committed, and is about her coming to terms with the idea of marriage. I actually didn't want to read it initially since I knew Gilbert had a negative view of marriage, so far off from my own. I didn't think I could relate. But I changed my mind because I love her style of writing so much, and I'm glad I did. The book takes an analytical look at marriage over history and is the perfect blend of research, religion, and personal anecdotes.

One facet she examines within the pages- or CDs in my case- is that of choice. She discusses a trip she once took to a Hmong village in Vietnam, during which she visited with several women to discuss their views on marriage. The Hmong are an ancient tribe who refuse to bend themselves to the rules of any society but their own. They live in small huts sleeping 12 or more members of extended family on the dirt floors within. In her time with these women, Elizabeth actually got very few of her questions answered. This, she states, was due to their two different languages- literally and figuratively. At one point, she asked the eldest woman of the family if she has a good husband. After several moments of silence and looks of confusion, the woman answered, he is not a good husband or a bad husband, he is just a husband.

From here, Elizabeth goes on to discuss the idea of choice in Western culture. These Hmong women each got married around age 13 and proceeded to meld into their role as mother and wife, as dictated by their culture. They had only that choice. In Western culture, however, we have innumerable choices on how to live our lives, bringing with it the necessity to judge what we deem as good and what we deem as bad. The Hmong never have to worry that they made the wrong decision. They never have to feel guilty or uncertain. Everything in their culture is simple; everything just is. There is no need for judgment.

So I guess the judgment I am always blogging against is the price that we pay for our ability to make choices. Some things about the Hmong culture are attractive to me- the simplicity, the clear definition of roles, the closeness of family. But a few important factors are terrifying to me- lack of privacy, lack of individuality, possibly even a lack of love. Is it possible to love truly when you are doing something because it is what is expected? I know my husband didn't have to marry. He certainly didn't have to marry me. This is what makes it all the more miraculous to me. I guess I have to go easy on our tendency to judge. I now know that is a worthwhile sacrifice for the ability to know that my husband is a good husband.


The ability to bend life according to your own choices is a priceless privilege of our culture. The kids I encountered at the thespian festival have chosen to focus their energies on the world of drama, thereby creating their own tribe. Seeing them work off of each other was powerful. You could just tell that it was their shared passion that allowed them to move free from judgment- of themselves or of others.

***I have posted 2 new sets to my flickr page- one of the little guy and one of the thespian conference. Please check 'em out!

flickr.com/dewindesigns

Just knowing...

There's a saying that I sometimes refer to because I love it- Follow Your Bliss. It was uttered by Joseph Campbell as a surefire way of finding your purpose in life. But it's not always that easy. You know how when you were young, you asked some trusted adult, how do you know when you're in love? Their answer was most likely- you just know. Well, the mind can play tricks on you in matters of love and happiness. You can have an entire comprehensive list prepared of all the reasons you are in love, and be completely convinced that you are, but if you have to ask the question, you probably aren't. Likewise with following your bliss. I have known several people, myself included, who have lived their lives sleeping in late, watching tv on the couch, spending countless hours with their partner, believing themselves to be happy. Who wouldn't be happy doing all those things? The answer is everyone. At least not only these things.

This weekend I got no sleep. I worked hard, having the sore muscles (in places I didn't even know I had muscles) to prove it. I woke up early and was go go go all day. I barely watched a shred of tv. I didn't see my husband. Yet, it was the best weekend I've had in a long time. I was walking through my friend's hotel this morning at the ungodly hour of 7:30am smelling the breakfast and being so glad I was up to smell it. Not for any particular reason. I wasn't even going to eat the breakfast. So, for a notorious sleeper-inner, this was surprising to me and took me off guard.

Many people may think that following your bliss means being lazy, doing whatever you want, not contributing. But they are wrong. Following your bliss is hard. This weekend I tried something new. I drove more hours than I slept. I made a new friend. I left a new friend. I lived. You can't do that on the living room couch. Everyday I am learning more and more of what it means to be happy, as well as the fact that I have complete control over whether I choose that happiness or whether I forsake it. I could have stayed in my safe bubble and not ventured out. But I would have lost out. And though I may have had fun being with my husband and sleeping in and loafing, I wouldn't have experienced life. Life is out there. And so many people are sitting on the couch in the same place, it breaks my heart. This weekend I was surrounded by strange and interesting people. I took walks with the breeze and ate lunch in a beautiful park. I played with the cutest baby in the world. I took amazing photographs and made myself proud. I smelled breakfast. I followed my bliss. And, I just knew.


My new friend.

Achieving confirmation...

Do you ever have a moment in time when suddenly you know you have made the right choices in life? Today was precisely that moment for me. Most of us go through our lives day to day in quite a similar way, believing all we need to unwind and feel complete is a dinner out or a movie in. Those of us who weren't so lucky as others to have found our true calling at age ten go on in our current method of "making a living", afraid to steer into the unknown of our dreams. A couple of years ago, however, I did steer through the fear toward a dream I wasn't even sure had fully materialized yet. And, I am now discovering that it never will, which is great for me because it means a life of constant change and exploration, something I never even knew I wanted. Until it happened.

Today, because I had the balls to stand up and declare myself a photographer two years ago, regardless of the lack of certain letters behind my name or pieces of paper proclaiming me as such, I spent the day in beautiful Tampa shooting the state thespian conference in all its glory. It's not even the fact that I had the opportunity to shoot it, but the chance of being surrounded by creative minds and wonderful friends that brought about this moment of clarity. Two of my closest friends are acting (among other varied mediums) teachers, and they taught several classes today that I was fortunate to behold. First and foremost, I got to spend time with my universe son, er, godson, and get some amazing shots of him. But in addition I got to bear witness to the knowledge of these amazingly inspiring people. I found myself engrossed in their words and reasoning though I know not the first thing about acting. This is because I felt their application to all areas of life. To lend energy to your character is to live your life as truly yourself. To be unexpected is to take risks in life. To expand upon your character is to expound upon yourself. To be comfortable working and relating to perfect strangers is to communicate and collaborate in all areas of your life. Each of their lessons led me on a new thought wave to powerful places.

The energy of the attending high school students was equally as beautiful. I have never in my life seen high school students as respectful and thankful as these. Several thanked them for the class, apologized for being late, and get this, they followed direction- not just followed, but absorbed. They were all so excited to learn, to better themselves. They showed no fear of identifying their weaknesses and incorporating new ideas into their work. It was just amazing. I was totally in awe.

All this in the setting of beautiful downtown Tampa made for an absolutely perfect day. I took some of the best photos of my life, and I owe the overwhelmingly positive energy of the place all the due. This was a day that filled me with a sense that pointing my life in the direction of a creative career is most definitely the right path for me.


Thespians. I love the focus in this girl's eyes. That is the look I wish to achieve in my daily pursuits.

Stilling my mind...

Today I finished the book Still the Mind by Alan Watts. In my listening this afternoon, he discussed how the human grows just as the oak tree does- perfectly. All the acorns, whether dark or light, withered or hard, are perfect. From them, the oak tree grows, never questioning its condition. Humans, likewise, are an assortment of perfect nuts put here to grow in a certain way. Questioning the process, then, becomes silly.

The thing about humans is that we have emotions that get triggered along the way. Perhaps emotions are simply our passing judgment on the process of life. They are most definitely caused by a divergence between the expected and the what is. Watts also says that the past is just a memory, the future an expectation. Therefore, all we have is the present- one long neverending present. Along a somewhat similar thread, Dave Pelzer says, "Don't worry about tomorrow, today has enough problems of its own". It's finally starting to dawn on me this act of living in the present. My issue is now, how to stop the worrying about the future? I'm practicing just stopping it the second I notice it, from the big things, like my worrying a parent is going to cause me to get fired to the little things like wondering what route I should take to Tampa tomorrow.

After I stop myself, or still my mind, I always remind myself to trust myself. I will be able to work it out when the time comes. For now, though, my job is to just be happy dammit.


Here's part two of my niece photos. She just started modeling in front of my camera. I love to watch my niece and nephews because they're the true definition of kids. They are so excited about life. They don't stop to question it. I swear if kids can do it, so can we.

Adjusting...

It is common custom in America to gain a few pounds during the holidays. A little turkey at Thanksgiving here, a little chocolate at Christmas there, a huge New Year's feast on your thighs, and your celebrating is complete. This is normal for me, as is the disappearance of the resulting weight by the time I celebrate Valentine's Day with some sushi. However, though I was wisely warned of the Freshman 15, no one alerted me of the Turning Thirty 10, or the fact that after 30, it is completely impossible to get the weight off. Apparently after 30, former rules don't apply.

Ok, I thought, no big deal, I'll just start up my regimen of sit-ups before bed and sit-sit-sit those extra pounds right off. But after a month of my usually successful repertoire, nothing. In fact, I was gaining more weight. Alright, no worries, I'll borrow some exercise videos from a friend and start Taeboing it with Billy Blanks. But after a month of side kicks, no such luck. Then, I concluded, this being 30 calls for the big guns, and so I took up running which I have not done seriously since college. Add a day of profuse vomiting due to food poisoning and two days of not wanting to go near food, and hey, I'm halfway there! (That last part was a compete joke by the way. Well, kind of.)

The point being that regardless of how long system A may have worked just fine, we have to constantly make adjustments. Today I got an angry call from someone unhappy with my job performance based on her student's grades. At first I was angry, becoming immediately defensive. But then I asked myself- why is she so upset? Because the is didn't match the should. In other words, life did not meet her expectations. I can't fault anyone for that, because it's human nature to be disappointed when things don't go the way you had hoped. But what do we do when our expectations aren't met? We adjust.

Today I had the extreme privilege of hearing Dave Pelzer speak. He presents himself completely differently than in his books. I know several years have passed since their publication, but either I read him quite wrong or he has changed. He was overwhelmingly confident in his words, and I loved it! So much in fact that I took down several pages of possible blog thoughts from his two hour speech. It was a blog writer's paradise! Plus, I knew I was in the right place at the right time, listening to a very wise man, when he made reference to Gwen Stefani's song Whatcha Waitin' For?!! I have definitely been so inspired by that song, and apparently so has Dave!

The thing about Dave is he is all about his saying- no abuse excuse, and instead of spending his time filling our heads and hearts with the tragedies that befell him, he summed up his message in two words- Be Happy. He then lengthened it to 3 words- Be Happy Now. And then to 4- Be Happy Now Dammit. Listening to him, you don't feel sorrow, though I lost it the second I walked out the doors. You don't feel hatred or disgust. I don't even know that I would classify what I felt as inspiration per se. You just feel closure, like everything makes sense. Like everything really comes together for a reason, and it's all gonna be alright. If I can shake the hand of a man who is "not supposed to be here", as he puts it, then it's all gonna be alright.

I will admit I did cringe the first time he made a joke about his deranged mother, and felt odd when he breezed on about the details of his abuse as though he were outlining the latest Jennifer Aniston movie. But something about it calms you inside. He's not faking. He is the walking definition of forgiveness and acceptance. Funny then, I suppose, that my husband and I ended up watching Dead Man Walking this evening. It just brings me back to that place in my mind that tries to figure out how and why despicable things happen, as though this will somehow make it all make sense. Well, there are dark, dark blacknesses lurking all around every goodness, within it really. But even though it doesn't match the picture I have created in my mind, though it doesn't meet my expectations, like Dave and like everyone else, I adjust. And, it just so happens I really enjoy my runs now!


My niece being happy now!

Shifting the "what if"...

In case I didn't make it clear in my previous post, I am not a fan of motivational contrivances. To me they're just a clump of cotton candy that dissolves as quickly as it's consumed, doing no one any good. But, luckily, in my opinion at least, Dave Pelzer's Help Yourself gets a little better as it ages. In one part he writes about the dangers of taking things, and people, for granted, including your spouse. After reading it, I became worried, and when I got home I shared my fears with my husband. What if one day we stop being excited to see each other? What if one day we get sick of each other? What if one day after we have kids that's all we think about and we neglect each other? That's when he stopped me. "What if's" are a waste of time.

But then as I continued my reading, Dave brought to light the upside of the "what if". In the process of encouraging us to believe in ourselves and replace the I can'ts with I cans, he brings up the ever present examples of how Columbus sailed the ocean blue though everyone told him the Earth was flat, and how man landed on the moon, when many said it couldn't be done. Trite but true- it was the "what if" that got us there. So here is my attempt to turn my "what if" frown upside down.

What if I write a super blog?
What if I win the photo contest I am entering?
What if I complete my state park project?
What if I keep up with my new found hobby of running?
What if I read every book in the Reading List section of the library?
What if I totally update my wardrobe?
What if I love and take care of my husband every second of every day of my life?
What if I am in love every day until I die?

Some may say it can't be so, but I say "what if"!


What if I embarrass my friend? Well, that's what she gets. This is my best stateparking buddy who is now on her way to California. Leaving me for the redwoods. Damien.

Turning vomit into triumph...

Today I started another book by Dave Pelzer. Having finished his four autobiographies, I decided to take a stab at one of his motivational books as well before hearing him speak on Tuesday. He breaks his advice into a three step plan to help others turn adversity into triumph, as promised by the cover. Although it's definitely not the page turner I had hoped for, I found it quite interesting that Step One's message and my life collided today.

This year I celebrated a joyous Easter Sunday on my knees praying over a toilet. In addition to the irony of taking on Step One's message of purging negativity in a quite literal way, one might find it curious that what gave me the food poisoning that ruined my Easter was eggs. But, in an attempt to turn adversity into triumph, I will learn from my mistakes and never eat at Waffle House again. Big mistake, huge.

As basic and repetitive as Dave's writing is in this book, I do agree with the main outline. Step One- Get Rid of the Garbage in Your Life; Step Two- Know What You Want Out of Life; and Step Three- Celebrate Who You Are and What You Have. Step One I liken to a recent post I wrote about being conscious of the people we allow into our lives. Dave discusses this too by making an analogy to someone who is trying to quit smoking. It's an awful hard thing to do when all of your friends smoke. Likewise, if you surround yourself with people who take a victim stance, ones who constantly ask "why me?", you are likely to fall into it right along with them. Step Two may be the hardest step. Determining what I want is a day to day, sometimes moment to moment, struggle for me, as shown in my dropping and picking back up on this blog. But that's ok, because it makes me stay attuned to my own personal cues for happiness. And, Step Three I'm just now learning how to do. I think quite often people make excuses for themselves to others. They apologize for themselves, which is something Dave does A LOT in this book. But I don't think we need to. We are who we are at that moment in time, and there is no need to explain any of it away. As long as we are doing our best to get by, that's all we can do. Instead of apologizing for what we see as our flaws, I say we accept them right along with all the things about ourselves that make us proud.

At the risk of sounding too motivational, I am going to stop at that. So just remember the importance behind my message- DON'T eat at Waffle House! That alone is the best advice I can give.


Here's a blah photo for a blah day. I can't wait til I feel better and can hit the neighborhood again and take random photos of random things. I love Spring. I love spending more of my day outdoors than in, unlike today. I hope you all had a much better Easter than I did!

Powering up...

Today I started reading A Brother's Journey. It was written by Dave Pelzer's brother, Pelzer being the man whom I have blogged about a few times who endured a childhood of severe torture and abuse at the hands of his mother. Dave was pulled from his home when authorities became aware of what was going on behind closed doors. However, Dave's four brothers remained, Richard becoming the new "it" for his mother's sick games. This book is written from Richard's point of view.

Richard was Dave's little brother, and because his birth came after Dave had become the outcast of the family, this was all he knew. Before Dave left home to be placed into foster care, his mother had brainwashed Richard into being her little spy. His job was to tell on Dave for any petty crimes he might have, or might not have in this case, committed. In the book, Richard talks of how he gained love from his mother any time he would tell on Dave. Soon, he began to plant evidence and create scenarios placing imaginary blame on Dave just to 1, gain the approval of his mother, 2, keep her from abusing him instead, and 3, feel powerful. He talks about how it gave him a feeling of control when he watched his mother beat Dave because of his tattling. Of course, laced in with these feelings were those of guilt and fear. He was a child at this time, only 5 or so years of age, unaware of anything resembling normalcy in a family.

I started this story imagining it to be just another story of abuse. But I was wrong. This story is unique and special in that it gives us a glimpse behind the eyes of the abuser. You don't see many books written by abusers. Their actions are usually not something they want remembered and publicized in print. Not to mention that few probably have enough self insight to do so in the first place. So how brave for this man to admit that, though he knew it to be wrong, he gained power by essentially beating down someone else, just as an actual abuser would. Though he didn't raise the hand, he manipulated it.

The thing I found most interesting was that he made the connection between what he was doing and the teasing and torment he received from his classmates at school. He writes that he was constantly picked on and beaten up by his age mates because of his clothing and his tendency to stutter. He hated the feeling of smallness and inferiority it placed on him. So, he looked to his power over Dave to make up for it. If he couldn't get it from one place, he'd get it in another, even if it meant he had to deal with the resulting guilt.

This was a huge eye opener for me. We all need a certain amount of power and control over our own lives. It begins with the simple progression from sitting to standing to the "I can do it myself" phase. We learn to manipulate our environment to earn our desired outcome. But once we enter that realm of social progression, it becomes a little more difficult when we realize we can't control others the way we can a cup or our shoe laces. We still have needs- acceptance, closeness, love- but the methods of achieving them are sometimes out of our mental grasp. If we can't get that connection via positive means, we will get it via negative ones.

So we have to ask if someone is being a powermonger in one area, in what other area is this power lacking? It is completely healthy for us to experience some power in our lives, so long as it is not taking power from another. Maybe this is the explanation behind the fact that people are so tied to being "right", as I have posted about in the past. Maybe it's a feeling of power that they yearn for. For example, if I am a certain religion, and I say it is right, using God as my backup, then that gives me power over those who are not the same religion. Or if I am straight, claiming gay people are wrong, I then gain power over them. This kind of power is harmful, because it is taking away power from another. And that kind of power is not power at all, but a shrouded cry for control over own our life.


Power can either draw lines or circles.

Living just 'cause...

I have 14 students right now at my tutoring job. Compared to the 4 or 5 I had for the first year or so, this is a hell of a lot. Due to this increase, my paychecks have gained a few pounds in recent months. However, my savings has not gone up, nor my credit card debt down. And, I'm still broke. How this calculates, I've no clue, which is why I teach reading and not math. It's like my friend says, when you have money, you spend it. So what's the point of wanting more?

I feel that time offers a similar conundrum- the more you have, the more things you have to fill it with. I thought about this today while listening to The Story of My Life by Helen Keller. Her words are more poetry than prose. In the story she speaks a great deal about her education as a young child, only it's not the way you would expect to hear someone describe their schooling. Helen and her teacher, Anne Sullivan, conducted their lessons on gazebos, in trees, and at horse farms. She reveals that her teacher did not repeat lessons or quiz her on past subjects, because everything was taught in such a hands-on way that Helen always remembered it. In fact, she regards her education as the happiest time of her life. Listening to the flow of her words, as she describes the flowers she spent her days amongst, the trees and clouds her teacher used as metaphors to explain to Helen the meaning of abstract ideas, I thought, this is what I want my children's education to be like. I plan to home school, and immediately I saw a picture of myself lying on the grass listening to Helen's words with my child, as we look up to the sky. I want my child to be that excited about learning, to appreciate knowledge and thought for its beauty, rather than having facts pounded into their heads as typical schooling does.

I then asked myself, is this realistic? Would I really take the time to just lie in the grass with my child and listen to a story? I pictured myself as one of the moms I see on a day to day basis, rushing from here to there, spending my quality time with my child in a mini-van. Life will get in the way, I thought. There will be too much to do. That's when I started to think of time as money. You always want more, but when you get it, you just find more stuff to fill it with until it's overflowing. There is no time to do things just 'cause. I never do things for no good reason. Even when I'm taking time to myself, it's for a reason.

Today, I had a most glorious day off. I went to an Easter party at work, laid out at the pool, went for a run with my dog, and finished a book. But if I looked below the surface, each of those things was for a very logical reason. Very rarely do I something just 'cause. When I think of "just 'cause", I picture my second grade class when I used to teach in Duval County. It always astounded me the random things they would do when walking in line. No matter how many times I asked them walk quietly and still, it didn't happen. It just wasn't their nature. One boy would wave his arms, another would be jumping; one would make weird faces, another would dance to some unheard rhythm. It always struck me as funny, because I thought, what if adults did these random things?! That's the just 'cause I'm talking about.

Well, I have been invited to be an assistant at a writer's retreat next month in Colorado. I will be rubbing elbows with real players in the literary game- two actual published authors, two actual editors from Penguin and Random House, and an actual literary agent. On top of this, I have been allowed the amazing and completely terrifying privilege of submitting some of my work to be critiqued by them. I have spent the last couple of months playing with several different formats- essays, novels, short stories, even screenplays, but none of them fit. They all felt as though I were trying on someone else's clothes, someone much smaller than me. I didn't like it. So, instead I sent them a sampling of some of these blog entries. Though I felt unprofessional and green doing so, I knew that these were the only pieces that could represent as truly me.

In order to pull an adequate sample, I had to go back through and reread every single post I have made in the past nine months, a daunting task I was not looking forward to. But I put aside one full day, took my laptop outside, and sat in the sun and began to read. The hours that followed through til 2am were unexpected, to say the least. I not only really enjoyed reading them, but I was inspired by them. I had forgotten many, and reading them again, I learned so many things. It was as though I were coaching myself. The funny thing was that some of the conclusions I have come to in my newer posts, I had posted about in my previous posts! I suppose they were rerunning in my head for emphasis. But the greatest thing reading my own work did for me was remind me of the purpose of my writing.

The other evening I had dinner with my parents, when my dad brought up my writing. He asked me, "so why do you write?" I think this has been my problem. My father had no understanding of the purpose of doing something with no goal, no outcome. As have I. I put a hold on this blog so that I could focus on other writing projects. I wanted to write a book. I didn't care what format or what content. I just wanted that completed thing to touch. But as Helen Keller learned when her teacher explained to her the definition of love, not everything can be touched, seen, or heard. I don't need to have a physical book with my name on it to be a writer. I don't have to earn dollar one to enjoy writing. I don't have to be working toward a goal in order to be happy. Writing makes me happy. And, at this very point in time, writing this blog makes me happy, whether it's useful or practical or goal-oriented or not.

I have realized that since cutting back on this blog my thought process has gone from overflowing to barren. My mind has become enmeshed in my day to day. But I don't want to think because it has a purpose. I want to think just 'cause. I don't want to write because it has a purpose. I want to write just 'cause. I don't want to live because it has a purpose. I want to live just 'cause.

Helen Keller puts it so beautifully when she said, "I lived myself into all things". This is my definition for education, thought, writing, life. Interesting that someone who couldn't see saw things so clearly. Here's to daily blog posts! God, it feels good to be back!


Before my parents and I had dinner, we all got Mendhi tattoos at a booth at the Jax Jams for Haiti benefit show. I chose the symbol representing "Clarity" as that is something I am constantly craving, and wouldn't you know I found it through my own writing only days later. Unfortunately, the image is starting to fade with time, but I have a feeling now that the meaning will only sharpen as the days go by.