Finding Your True North

Recently, I was asked to describe my style. My first thought? Easy! No problem! Errrr…or not. It should be easy, after all, it’s MY style. I figured it would help me if I looked around my house. This is what I got: buffalo skulls, tiki men, cowboy memorabilia, year round Halloween decor, year round Christmas lights, farm tables, wooden crates, shabby chic buffets, lace, leather, boots, heels, repurposed antique cribs. Needless to say, that didn’t help at all except to point me to the fact that I have no style. At least no indescribable style. And therein lies my style. Did that make sense? Probably not. But I did find a great picture of my very tough Pit Bull/Lab mix. He is my style.

So in order to describe my style to this person, I created a Pinterest Board. In case you live under a rock or are technically challenged (I’m honored that you found me!),  Pinterest is just pictures of interest that people from every walk of life post when something catches their eye. You can select a picture that you like and post it to your own portfolio, which is made up of Boards that you name. I went online, I scrolled away and searched, and tagged anything that I felt described my style. What a mess that board is. But it’s accurate and quite beautiful to me.

Then it happened. I found one picture that I could not ignore and fell instantly and madly in love with. The Magnolia Pearl Airstream (below). I can picture myself living in it. This woman GETS it, and has a life of inspiration to show for it. That sealed the deal. What deal, you wonder?

I have mentioned before that I’ve always thought that I would have lived my life on the road. I have an insatiable quest for knowledge. Usually the odd and irrelevant kind, but not always. I love to learn about people, cultures and nature from the source directly. My “Ford Pick Up Across The US” plan got changed up when I got preggers. Now I drag them along while I criss cross my way across this beautiful land. And I LOVE that. Eventually, however, they won’t want to do that with me (insert ridiculously sad face here). I’m going to have to have a plan that goes beyond my kids, my next year and my planned dinners for the week. I need to look on the horizon. So I did. And I saw myself on that horizon, in an Airstream, seeing the land that I love.


I instantly thought back to a conversation that I had months ago with my darling friend Chandra of The Earthfood Experiment fame. She mentioned that she had been assembling pictures, quotes, anything at all that she felt represented her future life, her dreams. And she knows without a doubt they will happen. She wrote a beautiful blog post about it, which you can find here.

I took some inspiration away from this talk that we had months ago, and I started my own on Pinterest. I assembled pictures as a “home base”. When I get annoyed with the recent budget plans I’ve put into place, I will look at these. I put this budget in place so that I can, in six months, live without debt. I’ve been in some sort of debt since I turned 18, which is almost 20 years ago. Not counting debt to my parents, monetary and otherwise, which is way too much to ever calculate. When I get impatient, I will look and remember that everything worth doing is worth waiting for. When I want some ridiculous, unneeded impulse buy, I will look. And what will I see…

I will see me in a vintage truck hauling a funky, personalized Airstream.  I will see myself pulling off in some town in some state, setting my laptop on the old linoleum countertop, drinking crappy diner coffee and writing another chapter of my book.  Reading emails from my kids, who will be forging their own paths by then.  At least after I drag them along with me for the next few years.  But I will see myself SMILING.


I can’t tell you how clear things have become for me since I started this. It’s keeping me on my money track, it’s fueling my fire to keep writing so that I can become a traveling author. I know it sounds a bit ridiculous, I mean, they’re only pictures, right?


No. They’re more than that. They’re my goals, in print and in color.  I SEE myself living that life, and I’m insanely happy right now to continue forging my path right where I am.  Because now, it feels right. My compass has been set on True North.  

What’s your True North? I encourage you to find a way to put it on paper. Something tangible that you can hold in your hands. Put it into a book as Chandra has done, put it on Pinterest like I have, print it out and put something in your purse or pocket and open and unfold it during moments of crisis, because we’ll all have them.  We will all have moments of doubt, of despair and of challenges.  Redirect your thoughts and your negative energy. Put it into something worthwhile and channel that energy into something positive: down from your brain and your heart, down your arm and right into that picture you’re holding. And there you have it. Your Compass to your True North.

Tuning Out in Order to Tune In: Select Ignorance and Bliss

I'm going to start off with that my eventual point is. Bliss. Here's some inspiration to keep in mind as you read. Also, I haven't said THANK YOU lately, for sticking with me and being a partner in my crazy ride. So...THANKS!  I heart you.  And now, back to our regularly scheduled program.



We hear a lot lately about how busy our kids are, how they’re overbooked and over stimulated.  How they’re involved in too many sports, too many instruments, too many school projects and buried under homework. I would tend to agree. Most parents spend their time chauffeuring, working while they wait for their child in the parking lots of schools and activities.  

What about the grownups? I use that term loosely, by the way. What about our distracted lives? My one and only resolution I made this year was to finally make sizable progress on my book. And when I reflected over this year, which is a favorite New Years Day activity, I wondered why I hadn’t made more progress already. It dawned on me finally: I’ve been simply “getting by” this year.  And frankly, I’ve been just getting by since I became a single mom.

I don’t feel any shame admitting that. To the contrary, actually. It’s somewhat liberating to admit that you’ve not been your best self, you’ve been a working version of you instead of the creative you. Those two things don’t always run side by side.  But without one or the other, you are keenly aware that you’re missing something. When I’m not at my creative best, I’m dissatisfied and disgruntled. These past few years have been pivotal for self discovery but not self improvement. Again, two things that aren’t always together.

So after a few years of getting by, I’m ready to jump back into making myself whole again and that self improvement part. Buuuuutt…my short list of duties includes working full time and then some, helping my daughter navigate the treacherous teens and school, helping my 7 year old boy grow into a great man and a good student, supporting and running a household, spending time with family and friends, cooking, cleaning, finding a new house, packing…you get the picture. And in 24 short hours, writing and creative endeavors get pushed back to….sometime next year if I’m lucky. Maybe 2015?

And then it occurred to me that I’m the Queen of Distractions. I get online to write, begin to research and then my ADD kicks in and somehow I’m looking at real estate listings in Montana. Or I’ve stumbling into Pinterest. Or I start paying bills (though I recognize this is crucial!). And of course, there’s the dreaded Facebook black hole.



I sat down and had a long internal talk with myself. I committed to a budget, and to setting aside SCHEDULED time to pay bills. I don’t touch them otherwise. I cleaned my house. After the holidays, it was a cluttered disaster, and I frequently spent time sitting around looking at it helplessly, my only decision being to cry or not. I figure I was probably spending a half an hour a day just navigating over Christmas boxes, dogs and tinsel in order to make myself lunch. And I was unhappy with the mess and clutter. So I threw a ton away, I’ve given a ton away. I don’t miss one single thing, either. I probably couldn’t even tell you what’s gone. This has helped dramatically in my 100 Item Challenge. Although I’ve now lost count of how much is gone. That’s okay.

I turned off the TV and turned on music. I discovered I can lip sync and dance while doing practically anything. Note I didn’t say I danced well, but while vacuuming, anything helps. I turned to my kids for help. They looked panicky, because on this day of reckoning, I probably looked manic with all of my “good ideas”. But they’re old enough to be pulling way more weight than they do, and I’m not making them contributing members of this household. I’m not doing them (or their future roommates/spouses) any favors either by allowing them to be sloppy slackers.

What I've learned? Cut out the crap. Limit your online time. Use all of your tools, including kids. Tie the vacuum to your dog and make him earn his keep. I tried that, but my dog is too lazy and doesn’t mind having a vacuum tied to him apparently, so it was a bust. Establish a routine and a schedule. It doesn’t have to be rigid; after all, creative and passionate people usually do poorly without some degree of spontaneity. But turn off the phone, stop texting for a few hours, turn off the TV because it sucks you in before you notice it. This isn’t just to clear time; it’s to clear your head as well.

If you sit for a quiet five minutes, all by yourself, you will notice you already have a ton of information swirling around in your head. You have everywhere you need to be, that present to buy, the kids’ homework, the work deadlines, the question if you remembered to shower that morning? Do you really need to add in there all the days’ bad news, the market crash, that someone changed their FB status to single (wonder what happened there…)?  Probably not, at least not right now. But you could spend that time working towards your bliss, picturing what makes you happy (I've provided blissful pictures in case you need help) and working to get there in some small way or another. It doesn’t have to be a life overhaul, just baby steps for now.



I feel better already.  I’ve started to get up an hour earlier, I’ve tuned out considerably on my phone, and I watch a few choice shows a week. I’m not letting the media convince me that I should give a shit what any Housewife is doing to the other. Because I really don’t care.  My kids both have one activity to focus on, in addition to their chores and school work. We sit down together for dinner, not me eating in front of my laptop while my daughter texts and my son tries every disastrous attempt to get some attention from someone. 

Select ignorance really is bliss. Here’s to people who can only afford to “get by” sometimes, those of us who are fighting to get our whole self back, and those who aspire to greatness when we can squeeze it in!

“There are many things of which a wise man might wish to be ignorant”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

A Man's Legacy: An Open Note to My Father and My Son

November happens to be the birth month of the favorite two men in my life: My dad and my son.  My birthday lands smack in the middle of theirs, ten days after my sons and 9 before my dads. This is an interesting parallel to me, since I try to parent Z (my son) that way. What I mean is this: he's 7 now. My dad is in his 60's.  I see Z as the man in the making now, and I see my father as the goal line. I am simply the person in between the two, trying to make it happen. I see myself as a conduit for my father's legacy.



It is easy for me to carry on my mom's legacy with my daughter and son, but it's an every day struggle to raise a man as a single mom and to instill good qualities. Especially since he's so much like me in the best ways: he's a wild nature lover, he's in love with simple things and always stops to smell the roses, he's impulsive and passionate, he is kind.  And he's like me in the not so great ways: he's impulsive and passionate, he's stubborn as you can get, he's kind to a fault, he's hardheaded and cannot be convinced to do it any other way. But I know every day that it would be so much harder to raise a man if I didn't have such a good role model to base it on.

And lucky for me, I do have the best role model you can find. My son idolizes my father, as I did when I was younger and still do. When Z talks about getting bigger, he almost always follows the statement with "like Pop-Pop".  This makes me ridiculously happy, because I know he sees many things worth emulating in my father including patience, kindness, humor and unabashed love and affection for his loved ones.

Now of course, as a daddy's girl,  dating has been an adventure. I didn't marry someone like my dad. Oddly, none of the three sisters married a man remotely similar to my dad. I find this crazy and don't really have an excuse for it. Perhaps it was....maybe it was...I was drugged? Hmmm, no. I've got nothing. Except for that hardheadedness I referred to earlier. Two out of three of us are divorced, clearly we recognized the error.  I suppose that I could give up on finding someone with the traits that I think are the best about my dad, but I find that's what I did when I got married. I thought that they weren't really THAT important.  But then I asked myself this question:  Who wouldn't want a man who is honest, hard working, loyal, loving and diverse?  Who loves his wife, loves life and is never bored because he's out and about and trying something new? That's a man I could hang out with.

So today, on my dad's birthday, I want to say this. THANK YOU, DAD. For being a wonderful example of a man, husband, father and brother. Thank you for giving me faith that quality people exist and it's worth the effort to find them, that kindness and love don't have a boundary or expiration date (or else I would've used it up in my teenage years) and that I can raise my son to be like his hero. Because unlike his plastic superheros with tights on and shields, sometimes his real life hero shows up in denim shirts with mother of pearl snaps, Wrangler jeans, work boots and answers to "Pop-Pop".

Finding the Unexpected Beauty of Life in the Phoenix Airport

One of my favorite things in the world is travelling. One of my least favorite things is leaving my children. Therefore a dilemma arises when I’m faced with business travel.  Since I am the first person to admit that working from home has probably been the biggest blessing this last three or so years, I’m also the last person to complain when company travel comes up. I pack my obnoxious leopard bag and head out the door after some hardcore stressing out and child care planning.  Business travel becomes exponentially more complicated when you’re a single mom. Not to mention, the stress of actually putting one foot in front of the other to physically get on the plane. That part gets tricky.

I am not a natural flyer. You know, a natural is someone who doesn’t sweat profusely or panic wildly when they think about getting on a plane. I would definitely fall into the opposite of a natural flyer. My parents both dislike air travel, therefore I was raised a hardcore road tripper. This has been a blessing and curse. Blessing in that I love to travel to new places and I’m totally comfortable wherever I go, and I’m like a kid discovering somewhere new. Curse in that sweaty, panicky way I mentioned earlier. Something like the below picture.

I will add that I’ve gotten better. I don’t require the Xanax anymore. Or the brown paper bag. Or the wine.  I just really love to see and experience new places, so I have begun to take that opportunity where it presents itself. Travel has landed on my door step, and I take that as a sign that I have a lot to see.

This week I flew to California, via Phoenix on a layover. I sat on the plane, waiting to leave Phoenix, actually in line to take off. I slid up the shade that the previous flier had slid down to shut out the outside world. And when I did, I saw that it was sunset. And it isn’t called the Valley of the Sun for nothing. It was so stunning, I almost cried. Because I am now, and hope to always remain, a sap like that. I cried the first time I saw snow capped mountains. I am regularly moved to the verge of tears by the sight of the ocean and the feel of the sand between my toes.



So here I was, a little bummed to be on a plane across the country from my people, and I realized something important. Two things, actually. That THIS moment, this awareness and appreciation for one of the most majestic moments in life, the setting of the sun over the mountains in the desert, is exactly WHO I am. The people in front and behind me had their shades pulled tight, and my face was smacked so closely against the window that I wondered what I must look like from the other side. Bonkers, I’m sure. And that is A-Ok with me, because I think those people with their shades pulled are missing a chip. And that lead to my second moment, the one that made me realize life is made up of these moments. And if you don’t pull up the shade, you’ll never see them. 



I mean, I was taking off in Phoenix, looking at a painted sky behind the mountains and a blazing sun, and landing to the vision of the California moon. And I got to see this all at the most unexpected moment.

Be on the lookout for your unexpected moments. And be sure to always pull up your shade and smack your face against that window. Life is better there.

 

*These aren’t my pics, as I was gonna get tossed if I turned on my phone. But these look JUST like what I got to witness. And I’ll be posting a few posts this weekend…had lots of time to think while I traveled. Upcoming…San Francisco thoughts and my visit, and how awesome it is when an Ex makes it easier to move on. Stay tuned, peeps.

Bathroom Barfer

Occasionally, you come across something that you have to share, as a service to those around you. Sometimes, it’s useful information like recipes, coupons, DIY tips. And sometimes, it’s something so stupid, ridiculous and hilarious at the same time that it actually makes you question yourself because you sat for the last 20 minutes reading it. Not that I do that. But I “have a friend” who does. So, in honor of taking a few minutes out during the day to just make yourself laugh, let’s talk about Craigslist “Missed Connections”.

It’s no secret that I had been out of the dating game for well over a decade, and even when I was dating, I didn’t like it. So, when I did start dating again after my split, I realized that I still hated it. I had a single friend who was glorious at dating. Now, she is naturally sports-oriented. Me? Not so much. So she approached it like a sport, she was organized, she kept her eye on the ball and I swear she had a play book and roster hidden somewhere. I had none of that; I am a naturally crappy sports player and dater. And now I know why. Craigslist “Missed Connections” solved it all. I was going about it ALL wrong!

Some people (my friend) are naturals. The rest of the world is still fumbling around, split between hot messes (again, see “Missed Connections”) and me, who in my dating awkwardness still happened to land a guy who holds the door for me, laughs when I spit something out that was probably left better unsaid and is the last guy I can imagine writing a missed connection labeled “Bathroom Barfer”. I’d like him to stick around for a while, so that I can avoid being any of these following titles taken directly from MC, under the section of guys looking to reconnect with girls they’ve admired in these various situations:

Apr 28 - i'm a big fat guy and you're a big fat girl - m4w - 24

Apr 28 - two drunk girls on Lancaster walk - m4w - 22

Apr 26 - That Fine Lady In Pants At Target - m4w - 33 * just a note here, I thought EVERYONE wore pants to Target?! Guess not.

Mar 22 - sorry i was needy on friday - m4w

And, of course, the Bathroom Barfer, who garnered this lovely sentiment of adoration from a stranger: “hey i was going to puke my guts out and you were already puking i think thats great and i want to get to know you with the chance you will look at this; i think i found my soul mate learched over a potty heaving rotton love into a toilet bowl !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Clearly, my aversion to throwing up in public toilets (or at all), my intolerance of improper grammar and my insistence on correct capitalization of the letter “I” has been holding me back all along. Thank you, Craigslist MC, for clearing this all up. I owe you one.