Inspiration

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We're Not In Kansas Anymore

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We're Not In Kansas Anymore

You probably know by now that I kinda pride myself on my fierce sense of self-reliance.

My ability to depend on no one.

And no thing.

Asking for help is a withered and atrophied muscle. Long ago forgotten.

My productivity. My accomplishments. My ability to get things done. My fearlessness. My willingness to take risks. Power through.

To be self sufficient.

Autonomous.

These attributes not only make me feel like a badass, but they also help me hold a slight sense of superiority over other mere mortals.

Last week, with typical sense of sovereignty, I packed myself up to go to Wanderlust(you're welcome) to hike myself to the top of a mountain (8200 feet) to camp (by myself) for the duration of the festival.

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Independence Day

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Independence Day

Last winter, my heart was broken. Someone I loved very much walked out of my life. Out of my daughter's life. 

He gave no reason. 

He just bailed.

And for months after, I tried to heal. I tried to forgive. I tried to forget.

I tried to pick up the pieces of my heart and scotch-tape them back together.

My chest literally hurt. My rib cage ached. I felt haunted by the Ghost of Relationships Past. Everything I did. Everywhere I went. He was there. 

I came to realize this heavy brick on my sternum was grief. 

And that it is normal.

And that it sucks.

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How To Let Go

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How To Let Go

I know how to hold on.

How to push. Force. Sweat. Grunt. Dig deep. Grit my teeth. And get shit done.

I'm fiercely talented at keeping a grudge alive.

I know how to stay focused. Eyes on the prize. Nose to the grindstone.

I don't give up. Nor do I give in. Until the universe beats it into me.

Surrender's just not my strong-suit.

And sometimes this strength has moved mountains in my life. It's gotten me through death and divorce. It has finished a marathon, published two books, and paid off more than a half-million in debt.

But sometimes this strength has been my weakest link.

Because anything too rigid.

Can break.

And I did. Well, my heart did.

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I Want To Talk About Faith

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I Want To Talk About Faith

I want to talk about faith.

To understand it. To hold it. To feel it so strong that it will hold me up. To be able to pick it up and put it in my pocket. To be able to rely on it. Text it when I need to.

But faith refuses.

It doesn't want to be talked about. Nor to be understood. It's not my Facebook friend. It's just a silent ever-present witness. A witness that I either allow or ignore. Just outside of my peripheral vision. And if I turn my head too quickly, I lose sight.

I have lost many things in my life. My mother. My business. My home. My marriage. My family. My friend.

But none compare with losing my faith.

Because losing faith means losing life, self, and the belief in love. Because losing faith means giving up.

And we can't give up.

Even when we want to.

Even if we have every right to.

So I want to talk about faith.

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I Am Not Afraid

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I Am Not Afraid

No. 

I am not afraid.

I’m not afraid of what it means to live my life. To live as me. To speak my truth. To hold myself accountable. 

To have my heart seen. Unsheltered.

To share the stories of my wounds. And my mending.

To utter words of intimacy.  So thick. Only the strongest of souls will be left standing to witness them.

Because I have been to the bottom of the burning torch lake. I have lost my voice. My breath. My sight. My ability to move. And slowly sunk in complete surrender to what the mother would do with me.

And when I found rest. And opened my eyes to the cold light.  I was given the gift of vision. And instead of the eyes of another. I now only see the flicker of mine reflected.

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Moon Prayers

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Moon Prayers

I said a prayer for my heart tonight. 

I felt that cold seeping in.

The inky blackness that hides in my veins. Just waiting for a call to duty. To harden and cement a barrier so thick that I will be protected from this hurt. 

The white hot barbed-wire that courses from my gut. Twisting and turning a tangled rusted knot. Weaving itself a corset through my rib cage. Suffocating and stifling. Tighter. Till there were only two words.

Love me.

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A Love Like That

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A Love Like That

I live in one of the most beautiful places on earth. A little piece of heaven surrounded by ranches, farms and ocean in the middle of the California coast line.

This morning, I took advantage of an unusually-blank weekday morning and jumped in my car to go to one my favorite running trails about 20 minutes from my house.

Mornings can be utterly gorgeous in this valley. For the short time that California is green - it’s almost arrogant with its vibrancy. Showing off for the sky.

But not today.

Nope. Just grey. Subdued. 

Rounding the bend into the valley, to the left you can see all the way into wine country. And the hills beyond. To the right, you look up the valley to the ocean. Beyond the ranches.

And today there was a single horse in the middle of the field.

Surrounded by vultures. In an equidistant circle.

There had be at least 30 of them. Sitting there. Ring-around-the-rosie all facing the horse.

My heart sank. Something is wrong.

I got to my trail but couldn’t shake the thought of that horse and those vultures.

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How To Be Extraordinary

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How To Be Extraordinary

I have a question that I'd love for you to answer.

Try not to read ahead quite yet.

I want you to articulate your own answer to this.

What makes a person extraordinary?

Pause. Don't read on. Answer the question first.

Really think about it. Think about the people who you think are amazing or extraordinary.

What is it that makes up that extraordinary-ness?

What is your definition of a truly amazing human being? 

I posted this question in Rowdyville (read their answers below) - and have been contemplating my own answer all week.

And what I found was there is actually a very simple 2-step concept that sets apart Mother Teresa. Martin Luther King. Oprah. Or any other amazing person that you know.

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Gotta Love The Thing You Hate

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You can’t hate your bank account into being rich. You can’t criticize your body into being thin. You can’t resent your career into success. And you can’t bitch your relationship into true everlasting love.

But people try to do this every day. People like you. People like me.

We focus on things we don’t like. And we think that this focus is what facilitates change. As if hating something enough will make it disappear.

This hate, resent, criticizing and bitching that we practice creates a tremendous amount of un-needed suffering for us. It makes our lives more complicated. It creates an incredible emotional burden. And it has zero payoff. This strategy is a guaranteed fail. 

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Stay Conscious

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Stay Conscious

Accidental success doesn’t exist.
No one accidentally pays off their debt.
Or writes a best-seller.
No one accidentally runs a marathon.
Or loses a hundred pounds.
No one accidentally becomes the President.
Or treks across Antarctica.

But accidental defeat happens every day. It is the product of unconsciousness. It’s the result of not paying attention. Of closing our eyes. Of sleep walking. Of being on auto pilot.

It’s the result of multi-tasking ourselves through a scattered and non-focused life. It’s what happens when we aren’t paying attention.