living your best life

The Life Support Bed…

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lifesupport

I have a pile of dirt where I put extra plants at the end of the gardening season. I call it the Life Support Bed. They don’t have a permanent home yet, so it’s a holding area. They’re either going to make it or they won’t, but it gives them a fighting chance to be in the ground before winter. I celebrate the ones that return. I know they’re hardy enough to make the cut, and the others? Well, sayonara. Life is tough on the prairie.

If I’m being honest, and I DO try to be honest with you, dear readers, I’ve placed a few of my relationships in the life support bed myself this year. When your life is chaos, it’s easy to neglect all but the most essential. We’re talking hard core Maslow’s hierarchy of needs essential: food, shelter. Relationships and belonging are on the 3rd level. Forget about esteem and self-actualization, ain’t nobody got time for that… I’m kidding,  you should have time for that, but it isn’t called a hierarchy for nothing. You can’t skip one level and make it to the top.

When you’re on life support, it’s your relationships that take the biggest hit, right? Here’s the thing though, the ones that matter are going to hang in there…for awhile at least. I hadn’t talked to one of my best friends in months till last night. We had deaths, cancer diagnosis, work stress, broken pipes, and the like between us. These things changed us, but we talked and talked, and the relationship is still there. Of course, we had the roots of 20 years of friendship replete with public intoxication, embarrassing dance moves, break-ups and other sordid stories shared between us. A pretty solid foundation.

New relationships? Most can’t take the hit and weather the storm, same with plants. You have your annuals and your perennials, know the difference.

“Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down.” —Oprah Winfrey

Summer is coming. THANK THE SWEET HEAVENS!! You can’t leave your relationships in the life support bed forever, they will wither on the vine and die. It’s ok to test for hardiness, but everything has a breaking point. People who need people…Sing it, Babs. You need people, too. So phone a friend, water your plants, and take care of yourself.

 

Keep sharing moxie! And, guess what?  I write this for fun. I’ll never share your e-mail or make money off of this, so subscribe and never miss a word of my delightful musings. It’s fun to share moxie. Just do it.

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Hope on a limb…

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hope

I’d like to rename Spring. Yep. Let’s go with “Hope on a Limb”. Spring arrives when you feel like you’re at your wits’ end and pokes its little head out. You want to cheer on these brave daffodils, buds, and birds. Be brave, bits of green!! If a baby is God’s way of saying the world should go on, then I think spring is the affirmation that we shouldn’t be miserable shits on earth. It’s a big beautiful world, people, just stop to take a look around at the wonder.

There are few places, save Alaska and Antartica, that one might celebrate spring with more fervor than in Minnesota. Minnesota transplants in particular start to feel like they’ve earned a t-shirt with every winter they’ve survived. The blizzard of ’97, the April Fool’s day snowstorm of 2014, the time you went sliding off your roof because the snow was so, so high. Some may view it as rather pedestrian to talk about the weather, you probably haven’t lived in cold proud country. We’re grateful in May when it’s 30 degrees “because there aren’t any mosquitoes”.  I honestly just had someone say this to me last week.

I’m thankful to have lived in and traveled to other areas and experienced different kinds of weather and life. I’m well aware that I could live in California where the weather is truly lovely, but as my good friend in San Diego has said “I just wish it would rain sometimes. This much perfection is obnoxious. My soul needs a rainstorm.” True that. I crave sappy movies sometimes because I need to feel sad. I like dreary days, so I can justify reading a book and not working on projects outside. You need balance, between light and dark. My Minnesota heritage has allowed me to live peacefully in the dark and celebrate the light. That ying and yang stuff? Yes. Those Chinese philosophers might have been on to something for the last few millennia.

That being said, the first really and truly warm day of spring? It’s like Christmas, right? It’s like being 10 years old on the last day of school. Wooooo hoooo!!  People are smiling at each other. You say “yes” to things without thinking twice. Your heart is a little bit lighter and your steps more swift.

I’m not sure what phase and space of life you’re in right now. Have you been stuck in winter: dormant? Maybe autumn with loss and change? Summer, bursting with youth and vitality (lucky you! crazy jealous). For me, I’m needing some spring. Are you needing to cling to some hope on a limb? I’m going to to be a courageous bit of green poking my head out. Be brave. Join me.

If you’ve been enjoying Sharing Moxie, then share it for real!! http://www.sharingmoxie.com

Happy Spring, peeps! Keep sharing moxie.

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Plan C, D, & E

~ sharingmoxie ~ 2 Comments

Going with Plan A is easy peasy. Rolling with Plan B?  Most can. It’s the person that can rock Plan C, D & E that I want in my bomb shelter and on my speed dial.

This brings to mind my Aunt Mary, a coffee can filled with pee, and a messed up pan of rice krispie bars.

My Aunt Mary rocked plan C, D, & E often in her life with panache. Quick to laugh at herself, she was able to carry off many things that would leave others crying in their coffee grounds. Family legend says Aunt Mary once brought  a pan of bars that had 5 different kinds of cereal, but really it was only 3. Families can have long memories about a little slip-up, right? 😉  As I recall, the bars started out as Rice Krispies, but running out of those, she added Lucky Charms and Fruity Pebbles. Those were some fine looking multi-colored squares of sugar, clearly illustrating making do with what you have. (This week I had my own Mary Moment resulting in a quick and dirty batch of no-bake cookies. These were made when plan A, B, & C were utter failures).

I’ve never been painted in a corner, but I have been painted upstairs. Honestly. I was playing with my cousin, visiting Aunt Mary, and she painted the stairs in a somewhat Amelia Bedelia move, with us on a upper level. Ever the problem solver, she pitched food up the stairs till we could come down without messing up the paint. Truly one of my favorite memories at her home.

Everyone has a Griswold family vacation story or two in their back pocket. Ours was a multi-family caravan road trip to Wyoming. Before cell phones, you’ll recall it was somewhat tricky to communicate between vehicles, not for us. We proudly flew a red sock out our window if we needed to pull over. After my younger cousin figured out that he got a break to check out a gas station whenever he had to go to the bathroom, why that red sock was flying ALL. THE. TIME. And then, he was given a can to piss in by his mother, you guessed it, Aunt Mary.

Aunt Mary had some big issues go down in her life as well, but she dealt with them, owned them, and made them a part of her history, not her future. I’d like to think I learned some things about living from her.

“Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans”, “the best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry”, “roll with the punches”… I could go on and on. You get my point. Life is messy. If you’re sitting here reading this and living exactly the life you imagined and dreamt of as a child, yay you!!! Actually, wait. Seriously, who are you? If you have the keys to the kingdom…it’s only nice to share. MOST people have to move along to plan C, D, & E at some point. For me, it’s how you do it that says more about you than having to roll along to your 5th plan. You can go kicking and screaming, yelling, kicking the dog, or you can suck it up, straighten your shoulders, and do it. If you’re really talented, like Aunt Mary, you can just laugh.

It’s no easy task to laugh at yourself, to take ownership, and move on. I’d rather have one Aunt Mary than a 100 powerful people that would throw me under the bus at the first given opportunity. So this week, my sage sharing moxie advice for all of you, my dear readers, is this– be a Mary, not a Jackwagon. 

Keep Sharing Moxie!

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nobakecookies

Graduating from adult camp…

~ sharingmoxie ~ 1 Comment

dreamrocks

Today I graduated from adult camp. Not kidding. After spending a week at a leadership camp retreat, I crossed over the rainbow bridge to adulthood, to leadership. And because you’re all my peeps, or you soon will be, I’m going to share some of this wisdom for free. Get ready, friends, I am going to save you thousands of dollars that you can spend on whatever makes your soul sing and heart beat faster.

    1. First day of adult camp is like the first day of school. Everybody is flashing their finest clothes and seeing where they are going to fall in the pecking order. Remember clothes are armor and in new and intimidating situations one must suit up. By the end of the week jeans prevailed. If I had stayed one more day I would’ve shown up in yoga pants. You have got to get down to the jeans and yoga pants level if you’re going to be real.
    2. Listening is important. Not kidding. I don’t listen the way I should, chances are that you don’t either. There is a significant difference between listening to get the gist of something and being really intentional about listening for understanding. A good listener is hearing what is being said and sensing what is unsaid. Being really listened to feels incredibly good. Try it.
    3. Invite new people to your lunch table. To your board room. To your classroom. To your life. I’m an abstract person. I see a haunted spooky forest where concrete thinkers see approximately 20 trees. You need both at your table.
    4. Trust people that know more than you. I found myself on the first day of camp looking around smirking as the seasoned instructors said that by the end of the week we would reflect on this time spent as one of the most incredible experiences of our lives. I was wrong. They were right.
    5. Adult camp food is WAYYYYY better than summer camp. Shrimp, scallops, steak, salmon? And you can drink legally, as opposed to sneaking in a stolen wine cooler from the garage fridge.
    6. I probably don’t speak the same language as you and certainly not the same language as my husband. He gets hopped up about a new calculation in a P & L. I look at him like a deer in the headlights. I tell him that the color of my daughter’s nursery doesn’t feel right and makes me so incredibly sad I want to cry. He looks at me like I have lost my mind. Find out what language you speak and those that you love. It will save time and hurt. We all have filters. I say green. You say grass. I say leprechaun. Make sure you’re on the same page or at least in the same damn book.
    7. Compliments, really thoughtful positive assessments, feel better than sex. Well, mostly. Take the time to write down five things you love and appreciate about someone. You’ll be amazed watching their entire face light up.
    8. Every community needs leaders. You are probably one already. Stop standing on the sidelines. Dig in. The world needs you. Your community needs you. Yes, you. 

Keep sharing moxie.

Really!! Share it! Pin it! Email it! I love seeing how sharing moxie is spreading.

Thanks, readers. You’re the best!

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Too old, too young, just right.

~ sharingmoxie ~ 8 Comments

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Until recently, with a birthday mere months away ending in “0”, I have struggled with a Goldilocks complex: too old, too young…

Just right. Finally.

I think we’ve all had those moments after a near disaster averted, a crash that didn’t happen, an MRI that comes back clear, where we think “Thankyouthankyouthankyou! I’ll be better. I’ve learned my lesson. I get it now. I’ll appreciate what I have soooo much more.” But like speeding, our gas pedal quickly gets floored as soon as the cops are out of sight.

It’s always been a race against the clock for me. More, more, more. Faster, first, go. Young, younger, youngest. I was the youngest in my graduating class, started college at 16, worked immediately in a field where age is prized. I remember being grilled on the witness stand once about my credentials by a defense attorney. He said there wasn’t any way I had enough experience. I did. Won that case,  channeling some serious Dr. “Bones” Brennan, with relish.

Blessed with an apparent baby face, I was recently told by a supervisor “You look like you’re 10!” Let’s be clear here, people, telling a 40 year old they look like they are 25 is a compliment. Telling anyone over the age of 8 that they look like they are 10 is condescending, rude, and generally to be avoided.

Visiting a parent on a locked memory care unit, an Alzheimer’s ward, for the past two years has changed me though. I’m no saint, lordy be, far from it. I often dreaded these visits. It forced me to examine the end stages of life. Harsh, heartbreaking and life changing. Suddenly though it didn’t matter if I looked like I was 10, the fact that I knew who I was became the only thing that mattered. It wasn’t about someone challenging my credentials, I could answer all the important questions: where I was, my name, and the people I love.

Perspective matters.

Perspective, it can’t be bought, is often painful in the acquisition thereof, but so needed.

I’ve seen some of the young beaten down by circumstances appear so very old, and then I have watched some octogenarians with the loveliest spark, lighting the way to aging gracefully.

You are just right, in this moment. Be a goldilocks. Blow out the candles. You are just right.

Keep sharing moxie.

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Getting it wrong…feels so right.

~ sharingmoxie ~ 6 Comments

 

Smart, but bland.
Bold & decisive.

I have been a rule follower my entire life. I was a good student, graduated early, got a job, went to grad school. Blah, blah, blah.

Somewhere along the way I lost my voice.

I’m certain it wasn’t one pivotal ground shattering moment. These things often happen by degrees, tiny losses that accumulate into something more. There’s a chestnut that I often pull out in therapy sessions…I’m going to share it with you for free (because I like you): listen to your gut. It won’t lead you astray. Listen to the little niggling voice that says “Yo-ho matey! Not o.k.” or alternately, “Yes, yes, yes!!!”.

I recently built a house which was, and remains, a money pit nightmare. If I’m being honest, one of my biggest mistakes was that I was so afraid of messing up that I couldn’t commit to anything. I was a builder’s daily dose of pain. I vacillated between being pushy and then folding like a card table. “Move the wall here, change the stair case, oh, forget it.”

In the end, my daughter complained that I didn’t pick out any colors in the house. (See her room and my hallway above). Beige isn’t in her color palette. When it comes to decorating, like many other things, she is bold and decisive.

I am smart, but bland.

I have reached a pathetic precipice where I don’t want to pick out a color for my stinking walls, because I don’t want to get it wrong.

Oh my. This is a sad state of affairs.

The only thing I’ve been getting wrong is my life. Here’s to adding color, literally and figuratively to your lives, people. Claw your way back. It starts with paint color for me, prosaic, I know, but it leads to other things. If I can pick a paint color and hang something on my walls that screams “yes, yes, yes!”, then maybe I’ll be ready for more. One day soon I can apply for that dream job. Writing this blog has been a step towards…something.

You like Harlequin novels? Stop hiding them under your bed. School supplies light your fire? Line up those post-its with pride. Want to go on a road trip? Map it out and save your change. Maybe then, you can move onto bigger things, too. I get it, I sound a bit like Oprah here. Life your best life and all that, but she didn’t become a billionaire by eating bonbons.

Lot of quotes out there about a life un-lived, I have little to add upon the great writers in this regard. Your voice is important. Find it. Pick a color. Not worrying about getting it wrong…feels so right. 

Keep sharing moxie.

P.S. Hello to my first fan, from England, whoever you are! Cheers!

 

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Phone Detox

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IMG_6585Picture yourself here, with a drink in your hand. It’s warm and there is a slight breeze. The people you love are running around playing. Ping! You look down at your phone. It’s an email from work and instantly you’re upset. You’re back in your office. And your pina colada sits there melting while you type a response.

Confession: that’s me, folks. A couple of weeks ago I was in this beach chair and I caught myself wasting time on a work e-mail on vacation. This is , admittedly, 10 kinds of pathetic. To add insult to injury, I’m a mental health provider.

PHYSICIAN HEAL THYSELF…

I have a few vices, like many others, they are as follows: caffeine, chocolate, wine, and…my phone. On the spectrum of maladaptive human behaviors or indulgences, I’m pretty small fry. The phone though? It’s getting to be obnoxious, even to me.

I’ve given up caffeine before. I’ll bet many of you have, too. The first few days are rough. Gah, the headaches can reduce you to tears. Going on a phone detox is similar, minus the physical pain. You don’t know what to do with your hands. You want to click through pages and stay caught up, but you resist. Or, even better, you’re in a place with no reception, forcing you to look up and around at other people.

My husband and I vacation differently. He wants to exercise every day. I want to read with a fruity drink in my hand. I’ve decided I like my husband and my kids more on day 3 of a vacation. They would say the same. I can’t run off to the Caribbean every week, so I’ll add that I also like myself more when I don’t have a phone in my hand…constantly. I’m working on it.

Some day I may look back on this beach moment as “hitting bottom”. This is where I realized how ridiculous the swirling whirling shitstorm of work and constant connectivity really is. I’m back to my real life now. I still carry a phone, but I am looking forward to next weekend for Easter. I have a planned three-day phone detox. Won’t you join me??? I’d love to hear how you feel after three days of being unplugged. I’ll still be consuming a load of Cadbury mini-eggs, my Caribou coffee will be present in my cup each morning, and a bit of wine will be in my glass at Easter dinner, but I won’t have my phone on. I think it’s a fair trade. One can’t cut out everything all at once. Right? Yes, that’s right.

Keep sharing moxie. Really! Send your friends to http://www.sharingmoxie.com so they can join the fun. A giant shout-out to my four new followers from Brazil! Olá! Obrigado!

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Me: day three of vacay. Much better. Don’t be a ninny like me, leave your phone at home (or at least in your room) when you go on your next vacation.

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