Tribe has been top of mind for me, a lot lately. I want to have a larger community of friends but making new friends scares the pants off me sometimes. I feel awkward, self-conscious, and always hope I have something valuable to share. Gulping down my fear and letting it fuel my adventuring, I get myself out there. My overactive inner big haired 80’s preacher wants to get on that soapbox and rant. I started this blog over and over again in my head thinking that the thing I’ve been working on is understanding why chicks don’t support each other…I discovered something a lil deeper. Last summer… Tattoos. Warm smile. Cute dress. Alot of new people. I felt like I hiding. Just go home, nobody is going to miss your presence here. I sucked in a lot of air in one deep breath and held it in to keep from feeling fuzzy. I half listened to my friend singing jazzy blues on stage. My attention meandered back to the gal I had just met. She was talking about dancing. I caught her watery blue eyes and was pulled in. Wounds. Wildness. Fire. A plead to be liked. I was holding onto a thin thread of my crushed heart as the dude I was dating at the time had just blown up our relationship over Skype. I did not want to meet any new people at the moment, particularly any who might push my buttons or touch my heart. As talk moved around the table, I mentioned I was going to Nicaragua on holiday which helped light me back up. Before my friend was done singing, I called it an early night since it was a work night and I was afraid a gallon of tears would rupture out my face if anyone looked at me wrong. I asked the blue eyed gal to repeat her name…Jaime. I said goodnight and on my way out she said to come to a party that she was hosting at her studio when I got back from my trip. She was dressed in a 50’s style dress along with a cool mix of gals. As I mingled, it was hard for me not to notice how her spirit felt untamed. Wild. It was a super fun night and I got a chance to talk her more. She taught dance, blogged, and helped her dancers with self-esteem and been through alotta life sh**. Her wildness appealed to me and I thought man it sure would be great to let go of the tight grip I keep on myself, I wonder how she does that? I was interested in her self-esteem talk group and we agreed to meet for coffee. I checked up on what she wrote, her Facebook and Instagram, as thoughts of who is this gal rolled around in my head. We met for coffee, we nearly finished each other sentences, an instant click and I could see and feel the soul light we tossed back and forth. It was great getting on board with her Taking Back Pretty self-esteem talk group for her dancers. Our lives were adventuring all over the place and we started swapping stories and support on the fly. I was holding back though. I had been hurt, not unlike anyone else in life but the latest cast iron frying pans that came flying at my face from a lover, friends and life left me with some badly hurt trust. My feet were ready to run. I had to push forward. I always do. I can’t stand sinking in fear, least of all, fear of people and what they might say or do as I keep finding my place and voice in this world. So I kept risking. She made me do it. Without pressure, just being her. Her talking about hurt, mistakes, and healing in a real in your face way. Her raising her daughters in a similar way that I raised mine, with openness in communication, answering life questions, with fight, determination and vulnerability. Her leaning in toward her talents, re-discovering her value and expressing it, which is what I am doing too. Her open listening and encouragement as I found all the courage I could muster to talk about where I want to go in life, my dreams, my hurts. Her sharing her resources. Her resilience. Her allowing me to be flawed and be alright…actually more than alright, to be more human. When I decided to share this month, I asked Jaime for her thoughts. We vented and shared our confusion and sadness about how hard it is to meet women and how we often feel judged, awkward. afraid and like we don't fit in. I was surprised to learn that she felt intimated by me at our first meeting. She told me she thought it was brave that I was out on my own. She believed me to be confident, poised and interesting. She said she felt some jealousy and wasn't really sure why but decided to brush it aside and instead focus on how fun and inspirational it could be to know an independent and passionate woman like me. She said she is so glad she did. All the things I felt like I was getting out of our new friendship, she was too. I was pouring into her life in a wonderfully positive way. Me- the gal who was worried that she had nothing to offer. As always, I share my life in faith that there is one positive thing that YOU can take away to feel, believe, and DO something better to improve yourself. The power of just one person’s positive influence helping me find that inner permission again to trust, to heal and to feel like I am not alone has been changing my world. Take that one step towards curiosity and trust, being you. It WILL change your world. (A very big thank you to Jaime Lue Inflore this month for sharing her words and editing encouragement. Go and keep track of us on Facebook and Instragram, -Like, Comment, and Share! The love you share with us through socializing helps us aspiring artists more than I can say!) Click on our names below!
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Hunting season holds a place in my heart not because I hunt but because my dad did. In his own over-animated way, he used to call me up a bunch of times ahead of the season to tell me he was packed, ready to drive over from Seattle to be with the family. I rolled my eyes, smiled...his excitement touched my heart. I was mowing my yard the other night tears running down my face… crisp fall air filled my nose. I noticed leaves are changing to brilliant colors, birds are eating the leftover berries on my trees, and my heart aches. I miss those calls. I miss him. I push the mower with determination to shut down the pinching heartache. My overactive mind swirls and churns with my summer film projects, a house needing work, an upcoming photo shoot, daughters I want to spend more time with, a mile long list of ideas for sharing my talent, how to make time for some really cool new people in my life, health insurance papers that need to be addressed, friendships that have soured, snowboarding, how I feel I have shorted myself in life and love… I turn my dad’s old cap on my head backwards and push the mower with more focused force and precision. Rediscovering the heart in my dreams has been like hunting for my keys on a morning that I am WAY late for work. Sweat pours down my pits, the anxiety of getting out the door makes me shake as I wonder who is going to say what when I walk in the door late… and I verbally slap myself for being stupid the night before for not leaving things in a place I could find them easily. When I find them, I am hell bent to push whatever limit I can to at least save two minutes of time. My dad supported me in the arts and how it was growing into a larger part in my life…but I never felt he got why I do it. He would smile, listen, shake his head and I could tell he was glad the conversation evolved to other things. Determined to get every mowing line straight, I pay sharper attention to where I mowed last and what I need to mow next and flip the mower around. I felt the fire in my belly getting hotter as I started spit balling ideas within my soul about how to move forward with acting. I feel like I have returned to first grade, only as an adult. Everyone else seems to have this neat orderly progression of growing into themselves, where mine went to hell, came back, cleaned up, and have been in frequent scrambles to create and find myself. Why can’t I direct my thoughts and emotions better? How can I daisy chain together the place where I came from to where I want to go? Emptying the grass bag, I notice that there are only a few straight lines and swirls in the grass mowing pattern in certain places… it looks kind of neat. I think more about my dad. He was a single dad for a part of my growing up. Because my non-stop curiosity, questioning everything, the arts, and insane love of life I have been a self-described pink sheep of the family. Often on the outside looking in, trying to figure out ways to fit in, ways to connect, ways to love, ways to express my soul. I think about the heroic way he chose to be in life. He clearly stood for and was unwavering in commitment to his family, values and his faith. My heart softly melts as I think of his gnarled hands from years of janitor work and how he served people. I could call him any time day or night, he was there, he was my constant. He was generous to a fault with the small amount of money he made. He made clear choices honoring women and was prepared to fight, if necessary, disrespect in any way shape or form. He believed wholeheartedly in women’s value and education. His walk and talk matched. These last few thoughts are the gifts I needed to remember all over again… and share. There is a mixed bag of dads out there and I want to send a huge shout out to honor dad’s out there that live the kind of life that supports their daughter’s voice, their enthusiasm, education, talents, and value. The world needs you. Sometimes good dad voices are ignored, dumbed down in society & media, or flat out made unimportant. So: THANK YOU to the dads having the courage to express themselves outside of stereotypes, choosing to communicate and support your family - especially your daughters, work your job each day - often without notice or thanks, and for growing up, cleaning up, and creating your lives. It is a brave choice! Your effort is important in nurturing the strong sharing-minded bridges we need built so all women can express their souls in this world. Who my dad was and the way he lived are some of the building blocks I use to share the arts, love, and live life. Because of my dad, I know my voice has a place in this world. Because of my dad I have tremendous work ethics, resourcefulness and sunshine resilience. I have a built in heart for service. It would be so great (HUGE understatement) if he had lived longer to share more life adventures with the family! His number is still in my phone. I want to call and talk to him about my filming, auditions, website, networking, traveling, and of course, all the other things in life that are moving and changing and about my daughters. His passing through my life feels like it went so fast and was so short. Snot running down my face, sniffling still, mascara I'm sure running everywhere, as I put the mower away felt glad the neighbors were not out and about in their yards. No matter how behind I feel I am, how much anxiety I feel when intense scheduling hits and I buckle down for go-time, and how much god-blessed uncomfortablity I feel in opening back up my dreams to faith they can happen… I know I have good building blocks. Some of those came from my dad. I am so proud of that. Send it out there with great love today - you deserve no less than that. Big hugs (share this note with other dads, step dads, stand in dads, or dudes you know that could use this thanks!) Holy cats, I have been on a huge wild learning curve this summer with several different film projects. With so many different hats I wore both in front of the camera and behind it, figuring out what and how the heck to say things is really hard sometimes, especially if you want to guide, direct, present an opinion, teach, share your feelings, or allow for discovery… and saying it in such a way that feels authentic, heartfelt and assertive is a whole other level to consider. I arrived on set a few weeks ago of The Big Muddy Web Series to meet new and returning cast & crew. I always have stomach butterflies from excitement and anxiety before every artistic endeavor. It matters to me to bring my A-game each and every time in art…and in life! As we rolled into the first scene location, the director instructed me to rehearse actors and set up some basic blocking and threw me the reins. Even though I worked with the director and crew last year, I still feel it’s new every time. I felt my throat lump up, so I took a huge gulp and called the actors needed for the first scene. After having them read through the lines a few times, I staged them approximately where they might start at the beginning of the scene. We discussed where the set exits and entrances were. We talked about the actions each one might be doing. I noticed slight blank and puzzled looks at times so I kept re-phrasing my words again and again to see which line of communication I put down would be picked up. My head was swimming. I had two lines of talking going on, the one inside my head connecting me to my soul and the other line directing my outside communication to the actors. I observed differences in acting experience and body awareness. I kept thinking and honestly sort of panicking, how am I going to get these guys to link elbows and express their character when the camera rolls? All them had focus and determination, which gave me a starting thread to weave them together. I kept thinking, you can do this, you can DO this! Playing with creative muses is great fun and they seem to have their own timing when it comes to expression. Then the light bulb went on…be fiercely encouraging, both in my head and in my rehearsing game (fiercely...meaning hang onto that inner hellion in you that wants to win and share that win with others). Being fiercely encouraging means communicating in a respectful, truthful, uplifting, sometimes funny way to allow for growth, discovery, and expression so we can create some pretty badass things in art and life. When I choose to communicate this way, I also heal myself and it can lift us all back up into a place of openness, trust and sharing. As I kept running the scene rehearsal (and every scene rehearsal after that) I focused my energy best I could to encourage everything that went right and figured a way to carefully phrase how an actor might consider another choice when things felt stuck or needed more development. As we gained momentum rehearsing, I was tickled to hear about character discoveries actors made to apply in their scene. I appreciated and listened to their ideas and concerns making them a priority in rehearsing scene movement and action. As sappy as it may sound, I was honored by each person who shared their trust and allowed me to rehearse and co-create. Every actor brought their life experience and willingness to learn. I couldn’t have been more proud to work with this bunch (and you can see that by the smile on my face, thanks Clayton for snapping the picture!) My faith in sharing and making some things transparent about my thoughts and creative processes is that it will resonate with you solidly and empower you to get your buns moving on a project or goal that has been calling your name. Be fiercely encouraging talking to yourself and kick it up a notch, two or three. Get after it, live out loud in life and art with love. There has to be SOMETHING to make you squeal, yell, or holler often in life!! (…ok now, hold the naughty thoughts, there is a time and place for those good things too…) I’m talking about things that make the little kid in you jump up and down with excitement, joy, or playfulness. About two weeks ago, I saw Pixar’s “Inside Out” after my family cleared out of the house going back to their own lives. I was overjoyed having my family at home for a week. When everyone left, I wanted to run away from that hollow buzzy feeling in my heart that falls on me like a house. Nothing like cheering up a gal by watching a cartoon, oh boy, I just love ‘em! I was taken on a ride back through childhood memories. I laughed, cried, felt the grief from loss, warm tears rolled down my face for life gone by… a smartly done, brilliant movie about the conversations inside your head. (If you haven’t seen it, DO it!) I so identified with the character Joy in that movie. When I was a kid I swung so hard and high on my swing set I thought I could launch to the moon. I played cowboys and Indians with the neighborhood boys, made forts, and climbed & hung from trees. Sometimes I biked as fast as I could whooping and hollering until my eyes watered. I played with paper dolls my grandma gave me. Each doll represented a different country that included native clothing. I imagined what it would be like to go and explore each country. I went through dozens of coloring books and read series of books. I made up plays and directed my brother and sister in them. I went fishing and explored nature. I would make souvenir nature gardens in my bedroom from places we visited. I LOVED to jump up & down and dance on tractor sized inner tubes my dad would inflate and bring home from the mechanic's shop. I jumped and sang at the top of my lungs until I was so happy I thought my heart would burst open and rain flowers all over the world. Life has a tendency to just try and squash the hell out of that freewheeling, can do, creative, make it happen energy… and sometimes, I know I have done it to myself out of poor or ignorant choices, ouch! When it comes to creativity and a lot of life, I am still a daredevil. Looking fear in the eye, I figure if I can conceive and feel it then I can do it! I jump in with both feet, all committed to the action needed to make it happen. I run towards life with my arms open wide. Oh boy, I can just feel that lil preacher in me just itchin’ to jump on the pulpit here… : ) I had a couple of friends in the past month or so talk about feeling jealous of other people, feeling lonely, and a few other things. They sorta candidly said how the grass looked greener on my side of the fence. For a short bit, I felt smug and as always, my inner champion kicked that arrogant box out from underneath me. When I tuned in to listen more, I felt soft vulnerability returning to my soul as I cleared up a misperception or two. Yeah, sure, I do feel jealous and it lasts all of about a countdown of: T-minus…3-2-1 and then I change that feeling in my heart, I don’t like to feel bad… about me or what I am looking at in front of me in life. I do feel lonely. It would have been sooooo nice to have that cool boyfriend to camp with this past weekend. From time to time, I still feel that being shi* on feeling when the last guy in my life pooped out on making us a priority and left dents in my finances and big dents in his word. And yeah, I do have a head war to end all wars when it comes to getting my lil buns out to exercise. With every ounce of strong thriving will of my inner champion, I keep reaching out of that hole dug by disgust, bitterness, arrogance, and sadness when life dumps on me or that I chose to dump on myself because I wasn’t valuing myself. Rather than feeling bad camping this past weekend, I trotted all over camp to chat with people, checked out scenery… and bubbles & lights and ate great food! I am upgrading the quality of behavior I want from other people by excusing myself from the company of peeps (quickly now) who do not value me and the life I am creating or have created. I have learned to choose feeling strong & healthy and getting into my jeans over not exercising, well… most of the time ;) I realized this month though, in pursuit of feeling great and living life I sometimes mask real feelings or the deep struggles I have with joy. I didn’t fully realize that this can make it real hard for people to see, feel, and respect the wholeness of my soul… and well, me! Inspired, transparent being in joy is different than wearing a mask of joy. When life or icky feelings have squashed my freewheeling creativity and natural feel good, rather than go jump around like I did when I was a kid and BE in joy, sometimes I act and express joy but don’t feel it. Inspired, transparent joy is combining my heart’s intention of creating a great life with all the courage I can muster to express the messy realness of how I feel. Masking my difficult feelings with joy disconnects me from a huge chunk of my truth and can make it hard for someone else to connect with me. Holy cow, wow, right? Slowly over the past couple of weeks, I have been allowing Joy to sit on the bench, not because I don’t feel it but because I am starting to share, re-learn and express, all over again, my beautiful layers of vulnerability. I know it can be hard but take a look at some of the things you could change just even one notch, such as choosing joy, appreciating sadness, acknowledging anger & fear and/or humbling disgust. Question for a minute, what mask are you putting over you expressing yourself? For me, it has been fun in a cool way to look at some of my automatic settings and change them up a bit. Thanks for messages or shares about how I inspire you or sharing something you’ve discovered and how it’s working! I feel encouraged when I hear about the things someone learns… and when they give me a thumbs up to rock on, that means a lot to me. Rock on yourself ~cheers! Waaahoooot! Naked soul celebration! …get your attention, hmmmm? ;) Wowzers, I sure hope so! And I hope it raised your eyebrows and stirred up some curiosity. When was the last time you were so loopy tired from celebrating and doing something you were into with your whole body, heart and soul? …so god blessed tired you can’t speak very well, you have a body/head buzzy feeling that will pop on & off randomly like a light switch, your heart smiles for no reason and if you leaned up next to a wall you would slide down it with eyes half closed and fall asleep in public? In the last three weeks, a creative tornado shredded my normal 9 to 5 schedule to film a passion project. I took a few full vacation days to be totally present and immersed on the project and then would pop back and forth between work and filming (sometimes filming until 1 am and going to work the next day). I felt I was in a time machine jumping back and forth from the past (think late 1800’s) and then back to my over saturated techno work world, making my way living and thriving. Being present, oh boy, a cliché that is soooo overused…at a closer look, how often do I truly, deeply feel it? If you have ever been on a movie set, holy cats, there is A LOT of waiting, a mix of different running chaos as shots are set up, peeps shouting out for things needed to make everything click & run and there is an overall tingly feeling of deep magic as you feel everyone is elbow linked together to create something. A something that did not exist before right now, right now in this very moment. Being an uber dork here (jus’ love this about me!!)… I did not want to miss a single thing in this filming experience and committed myself, every moment of every day to feel the experience deeply. Feeling the chaos & stress and with diligent attention how it worked itself out, feeling the lens when I was in front of the camera, feeling so exceedingly tired and reaching deep inside my soul for energy to share and support everyone, and allowing the feeling that I CAN be vulnerable, talented, capable…and enough. I can show up and be present with every ounce of my naked soul and shine my light brilliantly, share my talent and create. I can celebrate with my whole body & spirit without the clothing of shame and being over conscientious. How powerful is that?!? Presence is allowing yourself to be the paintbrush magic in painting the picture of your life. It was incredible to watch every person around me bring their creative soul A-game and connect with each other to create. I have been sit down in my pants happy (my own way of puttin’ it). My sweet friend Nina caught this moment with us beautifully. Breaking up my day job/life pattern has reminded me in a profound and exhilarating way where my soul needed watering and self-care. As always, I aim to share and in full faith as you read this, feel the magic -the magic of creating outside the little cracker box life you have created. I mean FEEL IT! Feel the possibility that exists even in thinking about doing something different or taking that first step toward a dream in your heart. In fact, I dare you, I DARE YOU to do even one positive thing today that changes up your pattern and gives you cause for celebration, stretches you toward a dream…and then do it again tomorrow and the next day and the next day. It would be too easy for me to ramble on about my recent filming experience -my lil inside preacher has a TON to say, always ;) Words feel terribly inadequate to describe the sense of possibility and lightness I feel. If I could send a shot glass full of this magic I’ve been feeling to boost you up, I would be ecstatic! I would just encourage the heck out of you, celebrate your soul today. It's truly and honor and a gift being alive. If you feel so inclined, leave a comment below and share what you did and/or how you are proud of your own awesomeness. …she said, “According to statistics, I only have a 2% chance or less of finding love since I’m over 40...” Mustering up courage and my most tactful voice, I interrupted her mid-thought and verbal runoff saying, “Woah, WOAH, WOAH there, why the friggin’ hell would you leave THAT to a statistic?!? If I lived MY life by a statistic then I should be missing teeth, have more children than I could handle, be on welfare, remain uneducated and still live in the trailer park and poverty I grew up in!! I was labeled a high risk mother when I had my first daughter as a teenager… meaning, there was a group of ‘well meaning’ peeps that thought I was going to fail!“ God bless those lovely folks, it made me sit myself down and think, how can I be the best mom I can even though my little ones came along WAY earlier than I planned. A couple of weeks ago, I went to my best ski buddy’s college graduation. We had the honor of being addressed by our governor as the guest speaker. He spoke about a few things he had learned along the way of life and on those bullet points he expounded. When he told a group of bright eyed college students they were going to fail in life. Holy cats, I popped up and down in my seat like a jumping bean once or twice and felt like hauling ass up to the stage to beg to differ. I can’t calm down on this one!! It’s been on my mind for a couple of weeks now and bam ~ topic to share about. Resilience baby…the ability to bounce. Come back with your inner champion, find your inner resourcefulness, take accountability for creating life and most of all, GET UP when you fall flat on your face. It’s hard for me to sit still anyways… and it’s especially hard for me to sit still when I feel people squashing their future, their potential, or their soul’s light. Just gotta speak up. I do just thank God for the gift of resilience. For as many times as life as smacked me square in the face with a 2x4 or I have made dumb decisions which involved clean up, I seem to find a way to “turn death into a fighting chance to live.” (One of my fav Star Trek quotes) :) In the face of statistics and the sometimes loud, obnoxious, negative focused peanut gallery: I thrive. A WAY different word choice than survive, which implies to me -just getting by, existing, fighting to breathe and just be in this life -often in a very small way. Thriving is seeing miracles in everyday life, finding the good as much as possible in everything, enjoying the in the moment creation, laughing, crying, and living in vivid color. (My personal choice) Figuring life out and executing the processes of moving anything in life is bumpy and rough! If you are moving, you are winning! Period. There is only one fail in my book in life and that is: quitting moving. It means you refuse to take any movement options. Moving at any speed, means you have the privilege and honor of your next step in the process whether it's living, celebrating or breaking. For me, when I come across those dreams I want to elevate into a living reality or when crappy things happen, I turn inwards. That inside chat you have with yourself is priceless. Being a mom and having a family was a super important dream of mine and crikey! It came along in my life timeline really early! I can’t tell you how many inside fits I threw and how mad I was at me, for not being smarter. However, pretty darn quick after they were born, I thought, Well, they are here and sh** I gotta grow up pretty damn quick -(BIG understatement). It won’t be too long before they are caught up to me. I had very few parenting skills that I could bring forward from my own upbringing for application and I threw most of the junk information out. So now what? My parenting toolbox was mostly empty. I had moved to a new town so there weren’t any familiar people references and my marriage was already making high squealing tension noises in my head. No matter what, I only had one shot to raise my daughters the very best I could. Barb, the blue-green haired (literally) lady from social services visited me soon after I got my daughter home. She came into our tiny apartment, sat on the couch. I sat on the floor next to my daughter sleeping on the floor near the only little heater we had. I almost whispered, “Well I have fed her, talked to her, bathed, changed her, what else do you do with a baby?” A hint of compassionate smile crossed her face and she began to talk to me about parenting and listening to me. It was a relationship that lasted over two years and gave me the best jumper cables start I could ask for to begin make my way, MY way. I allowed her belief in me to open up my shut down mind. From there, I read parenting books, made daily choices and LIVING the desire I had to be the best mom I could. I did not have the 'how' figured out, I only had the 'why' figured out. I fell on my face as I figured out what didn‘t work, had to course correct, rephrase my voice and actions, cried and yes, sometimes I got foot stomping mad. I did not give up. I knew my why and held that close to my heart. I chose to bounce. I chose to bounce, get up, start, and thrive with what I had. My daughters and I have gone through injuries, hospitalization, some deep emotional traumas, scrimping by on super low budgets, arguments, tears, death… AND we have celebrated birthdays, have had food adventures, holidays, learned about the world around us together through libraries, museums, picnics, cooking, goodwill shopping. We have learned about money, communicating, laughed, just plain figured life stuff out and lived joyfully out loud together as all three of us figured out who we were. Resilience is a way of feeling your way through life with your heart, ALLOWING your heart to know that there IS always a door to something else, and running with your arms wide open towards the curiosity to explore those doors! Outside of smart safety statistics and listening to wise advice… ignore statistics and “well meaning” folks when they feel a need to rain down peanut shells from the gallery. Most importantly, tune into your heart and soul’s voice. The best wisdom is there. When all seems hopeless, do what I do to get the process going -get physical! I was inspired to jump on a trampoline for an inspirational pic for this story… I looked high and low for a place to jump and take a picture to share. This became a treasure hunt and In a serendipitous moment I remembered, we have a gymnastics place in town!! :) Man-o-man, for the love of you, if I could infuse some of my natural bounce in ya after reading this, I would! I just know you are struggling to figure out something in your life after you have gotten knocked down. I am going to say it again: Resilience baby…the ability to bounce. Come back with your inner champion, find your inner resourcefulness, take accountability for creating life and most of all, GET UP when you fall flat on your face. Share with someone you know that could use some faith and hope today. Share a comment below and send it out there with a whole bunch of courage and resilience today! I SWEAR I heard a boing-ing sound, felt my head bounce and my eyes blinked twice as I overheard a lady say, “Oh she can’t be smart…she’s pretty. She’s good natured, happy, oh you know, the sort, the Pollyannish, goofy type. She can’t really speak intelligently. Dresses young…and ya know, just who does she think she is anyway…” and on and on the lady went ad nauseam spitting out negative things about a chick I didn’t know. I kept waiting for the horrible thing this lady did to warrant the comments, like maybe run over their cat on purpose, hurt their children, steal their man, sabotage their life in some big way, was mean -but nothing came up in their conversation. I felt myself slide slightly downwards in the booth at the restaurant where I ate lunch alone. I thought about saying something to them as I felt I had been verbally punched in my own personal sunshine. My cheeks burned and my throat got tight as I recalled when people have said similar things about me and it‘s gotten back to me. Or times when peeps have bluntly said things to my face. That group of ladies in the booth behind me finally got up to leave and pay for their lunch laughing and giggling. I sat there. Thinkin’. Finishing my lunch. I am happy. Most of the time. Ok, so I don’t wake up all sunshine and roses when I first roll out of bed… I have bed head (I like to call it rock star hair :) always got to at try and re-frame negative stuff in my head, yeah baby!), stinky breath, leftover makeup I didn’t get off from the day before, pillow imprints on my face as I feel my way down the hall to get to the bathroom with one eye open, one eye closed. My happy blooms as I start getting my thinking going, as I start making my way. In my imagination, my hair was suddenly restyled into a big 80’s hairstyle and I jumped onto my church pulpit… (I think there is a lil Baptist minister in me somewhere because boy-oh-boy can I rain it down ;) and Iet’er rip. Then I thought, wait just a hot minute here, why am I doing this? Now I am shutting down my sunshine because of an overheard conversation. I’ve been guilty too of lack of sunshine & positivity resulting in shooting off my mouth. Think about it… To me happiness is living sunshine, that I choose. It’s an intelligent, loving and higher vibe choice. Just because someone is good natured, kind or happy doesn’t mean they don’t have a ton of poop going on in their life! Sometimes, when people seem to be super happy, they are covering up a lot of pain and life struggle. Hats off and a HUGE shout out to you if you are one of those people who make your way in life with the best sunshine you can like some badass superhero. What a brave choice to make! Way to go using your mind and heart to choose your words, attitude, and be responsible for the energy space around you. There is SO much to appreciate in living life and I get to do it! What a cool way to honor myself by building internal sunshine and expressing it. Sometimes I feel my heart will burst with warm and fuzzy poofs of sunshine by observing and taking in the miracles around me. In drinking my coffee, I get to taste it, know it energizes me. Every system in my body is a universe by itself and oh my goodness, isn’t that just a dizzying, make you sit down in amazement thought? I get to drive, go to work, breathe, help out my workmates, create in film and on stage, write using my imagination, go to the doctor when I am sick, love my family & friends and keep making my way even when I fall on my face. I get to eat up every life adventure with a fork, knife and spoon choosing to fill up my soul with the experiences of life. Just so you know too, sometimes people are full of sunshine because they are feeling good, thinking good thoughts and that sunny feeling shines out of every pore in their face. I think as you grow (or don't) through life, you wear your soul on your face. Your face shows when you are making choices that support goodness and staying curious with an open mind and heart. Yup, these are a whole lot better thoughts than where I was headed after I overheard that conversation. As I let this sit and re-read it, I judged my own writing…it’s too full of fluffy feel good. However, I stand by it. 100%. There is a ton of science, spiritual, and positive psychology information (which I read regularly to help feed my sunshine) supporting how leaning into positive improves attitude, perspective, humor and health. Besides reading, I love filling up my positivity by being out in nature, drinking in sunshine for my heart, soul and attitude. I encourage you to get up just one day in the next week, a whole heck of a lot earlier than you normally do and enjoy a sunrise. Really take it into your heart and mind. What a gift of light to bring that sunshine into your day and bless it. After you get filled up with all that lovely light, think about some things you deeply appreciate and then get after your day. Send it out there with all the sunshine and loves you can muster. Feel free to share in the comments below what you do to stay positive and honor your own sunshine too! PS: In case you have life circumstances that make it hard for you to see the sunrise, I got up at 5:15am yesterday and got my buns over to Mt. Helena so I could share one thing that helps light up my soul, mind and heart. Without fail it shows up for us every day…gloriously bringing our day to life. And it really is just for YOU honey. (Rating: PG-13. Personal drama) I developed a small rash about six months ago after I cut myself pretty badly shaving. I went to the grocery market and got some benadryl and ointments. After two days, it had blossomed into a full body rash. I began walking like a cowboy getting ready to draw a gun since any clothing rubbing on my red pimpled skin sent me into scratching fits. Several lymph nodes had become swollen. It was time to go to the urgent care for medical assistance since it wasn’t subsiding. I sat freaking out in the urgent care office, sweat rolled down my armpits and I ended up with a heat rash. My brain felt like it was sitting on a moving waterbed and my toes tapped the ground like a rabbit on speed. I had been traveling to Central America…maybe a bug crawled on me in my sleep, bit me and laid eggs or maybe even pooped in my blood? Or maybe it was ringworm? Or maybe…I had developed something nobody had heard of and I was going to end up on the internet in one of those unsolved medical mysteries. The doctor walked in and with all my strength I stopped my head from pitching backwards toward the ceiling. Oh great, he looks like he should have retired… and then out from behind him popped a fresh faced medical student. I felt my whole face burn red hot. The doctor kindly asked how I was doing and what brought me in to the clinic. Not looking at either one, I squeaked out a hello. The fresh faced intern grabbed his clipboard and waited with big unblinking eyes for me to speak. Holding my breath slightly and in a quiet voice, I gave them details of the past days. He said, “Hmmmm, let’s take a look.” Mortified, I stood up. I studied the bumps on the wall as they examined my stomach, back, arms, legs, and swollen lymph nodes. They stood back talking and pondering. The doctor wrapped his right arm around his stomach and his left hand went to hold his chin. “I don’t know what to make of this,” he said, “I am truly stumped…” and then the thought hit me out of nowhere like a full powered sucker punch. I managed to whisper, “Well, is it an std or something?” He said, “Nope, no, I have never seen ‘em present this way.” I sucked my lips inwards and pressed them flat tight to keep words from accidentally escaping my lips. Well what the hell does it do?…a song and dance? After several minutes passed in church-like silence, he walked up to me and took his index fingernail and ran it lengthwise across the very top of my chest. A red line appeared. “Well, that tells me it’s an allergic reaction, question is, to what?” My lips still pressed inwards and tight… What f****** tribe have you been doing medicine on and when should you have retired?!? He thoughtfully said, “I’m going to prescribe some prednisone and a prescription strength antihistamine. That should clear it up.” I spent the next ten days taking the prescriptions perfectly, determined to get on top of it. I started taking colloidal oatmeal baths every night (by the way, they work super well for itching) and kept off the internet so I would not add to my overactive imagination as to what could possibly be causing it. I kept super busy to help divert myself from scratching, at least somewhat. By day ten, nothing had improved. I began shaking periodically from trying to stop intense scratching urges. My mind and wits felt like inmates from an insane asylum had been released and were running nuts in my head. At the constant yammering of co-workers and friends saying “You should have gone to a regular general medical doctor…blah, blah, blah…” I made appointment number two with a general MD. When the doctor walked in, I rolled my eyes. Oh, geez, no. Not again. Going through another exam, I felt a smidgen less embarrassed, but not much. Coming up with the same conclusion, he said, “Well, finish up the rest of the prescription and we’ll see if that clears it up.” As I slowly trudged out of the clinic staring at the carpet, big hot tears rolled down my cheeks. What if this is permanent? In the next five days, I became a health seeking desperado and googled for any possible alternative solutions. To what I had been doing, I added some aroma therapy. I mixed a carrier oil with a drop of oregano oil and rubbed it on my feet. It was supposed to help rid the body of parasites, if that’s what was causing it. I began revamping my nutrition and started drinking more water. I started doing some breathing exercises to ease up my anxiety and became more appreciative for what health I did have. I began noticing the large array of spectacular colors in the morning sky on my way to work. I started thanking the morning for just being there. When I looked at my co-workers faces, compassion energy came out of their eyes. Time felt like it had slowed down and my world seemed to have shrunk into the size of a snow globe. There was a color vividness to everything I could reach in my life. I was also working on a film after my day job was done and noticed a fuller timbre of sound in people’s voices. Scenes became more focused with greater intensity. On a dinner break, I became mesmerized by a fellow actor’s rosy cheeks, golden curls falling around her shoulders, and white pearls of teeth in her wide open laughing mouth at a joke someone told. I hunched over my paper plate and pulled it close to my chest feeling dirty, ugly and like a loser. Nobody knew how badly my body felt and how horrifically worried I was that I had something that was permanent. After I was done eating, I went into the bathroom with my little paper brown bag, sunk down on the floor quietly sobbing, pulled off my dress and put ointment on open scratched skin and topped it off with an antiseptic oil. I was paranoid of making things worse so I had become obsessed with keeping things medicated and clean. Slowly, I came out of the bathroom and stared at the empty room where my fellow actors had sat, hearing echoes of their laughter and joke punch lines in my head. I sort of laughed out loud. I sounded pathetic. I was worried the air would break if I tried again but I did. The more I critiqued my own sorry ass tries, the more I started laughing. Warm tears came out of the corners of my eyes and I started into full belly laughs at myself. No matter what, my laughter was not broken! Halle-friggin’-luiah! My feet still carried me swiftly up and down the stairs for the film scenes. I could breath. I could speak and express myself. I felt a surge of tingles from my toes up to my head making me feel like I had to pee… I still owned every single thing I had done in my life, my children were fine. I was still employed and could pay bills. I have people that loved me… I have people that loved me and holy cow wow, how lucky I am. Feeling somewhat lighter, I skittered downstairs and was able to let myself feel for a minute that I was going to be ok. Early on Monday morning, still rashed out like I had the worst case scenario of the chickenpox, I did what my gut instinct told me to do in the beginning. I called and left an urgent message at my dermatologist’s office. As soon as the clinic opened, the nurse called me. She said the doctor was out and to come in first thing Tuesday morning. Tuesday morning I arrived at the dermatologist’s office. She looked at me with big brown compassionate eyes and said, “Oh you poor, poor thing! We can fix this. Tell me what’s going on.” I gave her the run down as she examined me. I told her about my now Godzilla sized catastrophic fears so my wits would not leap out my ears. She said this was not caused by a bug or disease but looked like a severe allergic reaction that had cascaded into three different type rashes. My stomach filled up like a helium balloon with a bit of hope for the first time in about eighteen days. She asked me about any recent travels and I told her about being in Nicaragua five months earlier. She said, “No, more recently. Have you been in any hotels in the last two months or so?” In silence, I scanned my mind for what I had been doing the past two months. With my mouth dropping slightly open, I wondered out loud, “I have someone staying with me and about six weeks ago she washed my towels with her laundry soap rather than…my allergy safe soap.” (I have terrible allergies plus a touch of asthma.) The doctor said, “That might do it. With the cuts you had shaving, as you towel dried off, it is likely to have gotten in your blood and gone completely systemic. Meaning your body can’t get on top of the allergic reaction.” With another prescription of prednisone and a prescription steroid cream, within 48 hours, the rash reduced by half. Within the next 48 hours, it was nearly gone. As I got back to my more bouncy self, I continued with my new routine with the oils, breathing and appreciation. I felt sheepish and super stupid about all the drama that the rash caused for me mentally and for those that loved me. Oh boy, bugs laying eggs in my blood, yeesh, what the hell was I thinking? I had people in my life that were really there and cared. I went back over and over in my mind and heart until I could feel deeply in my body all the sensation of appreciation for them and also feel the laughter that finally broke my toxic worried obsession. How long had I been taking my health for granted? …how long had I been neglecting valuing myself and what I needed in life? The monkey wits have quieted… well, they have gone onto other things ;) I have been playing with finding a peaceful center when things explode in my life. I have been full out creating life again, keeping the vividness of things around me turned up, and most definitely hugging people around me a lot more sweetly. Prayers and hugs to you if you are struggling to get on top of your health or other huge life issues. Life is just real, real rough at times. Remember to take some time to really connect with your favorite peeps, get out and enjoy the great outdoors and by all means, find some really silly things to laugh at… and yes, that means lightening up and laughing at yourself. Send out there with love today and sending you a great big bear hug. Uggg, creativity, what are you going to do with it? I’ve sat down to write a bunch of times and have flung the pencil down and quit. Every time I tried to write, my head throbbed in the soft spots on either side of my head. One side of my brain fired out brilliantly lit ideas complete with glitter and sound effects, the other side open fired back with filthy negative shards of glass. Irritated, I crumpled my nearly dozen efforts and hurled them onto the floor. I will get to it later. It’s later. It’s time…and I’m determined. Kicking the floor mess aside, I firmly sit down at my desk, focused. I really, really want to write something important, make an impact, be spectacular, uplift, encourage, motivate… write something that makes me sound smart. Before ideas evaporate, I speedily write down one idea per page. However, I can’t get more than a few supporting lines written under each one before I hear a high pitched noise in my ears. I crumple up more paper ideas and chuck them on the floor. With my teeth grinding, I sit and stare at yet another fresh blank piece of paper. About a half hour goes by. More topics pop into mind but nothing is blowing my hair back. I pick up a pen, a marker, and for fun, a highlighter. All of them end up on the floor. In bursts a thought of, colored pencils! Yes!! That’s what I need! Paper with no lines. I can draw an idea first and it will inspire the words. I am so excited I pop up and down like a jumping bean on my seat. I pick out the sharpest one and draw a hefty horizontal line. Feeling the pencil drag across the paper, I think, yeah, this is IT! I feel a warm, fuzzy feeling fill up my stomach. Smiling, I lift the colored pencil off the paper and wait for more inspiration. The heater in my house kicks on. I hear the tick-tocks from the living room clock. About 20 more minutes pass. Well…where the hell is more inspiration? Hellllooo, I am waiting, waiting here for that perfect idea, that one idea that will spark off the chain reaction of brilliant words that will knock everyone’s socks off. I want that inspiration. Right now. So I take off my vest and socks, toss them onto the floor…maybe I need to be more comfortable. I feel hungry so I make a pb&j, grab a glass of water, eat and put the dishes on the floor. With a heavy sigh, I pick up another colored pencil, I lay my sleepy head down and feel the stiff paper on my cheek. A short bit later, I wake up, rub the drool off the paper. Oops, not making very much progress. More one-line ideas and very loud veto’s in my head. Abruptly, I sit up and pitch my head backwards and beg God, oh, for the love of me, can I pllllleeeeeease, can I please just have one idea…just a really, really, really good one?!! I got up, snatched a few books for motivation. Another half hour goes by as I quickly snap them open and closed and fling them on the floor. I don’t want anyone else’s inspiration leaking all over my writing. It's so quiet in my house I swear I can hear dust building up on the furniture. This…is painful. More ideas zip into my mind and blow up. I feel a huge deep wounded pain in my chest. I do not want to fail. I just. Want. To. Be. Goooood at sommmething. Be smart. I want this one perfectly right idea. Crrraap, why can’t I come up with one, just one, really, really good idea? What the heck is wrong with me? I stand up rubbing my chest and stomach. Grrrrrreat. Indigestion. Another half hour of what feels like airport time goes by as I fidget, get edgier, angry and stomp around. I plop down cross-legged in the middle of the junk on the floor. I couldn’t help it, I started crying. I lay down in the mess of paper snowballs, books, and dishes. I start moving my arms and legs making a carpet angel. My mind was pounding the hell out of me. I have no idea worth sharing. I will not be able to write a damn thing this month. I can’t, I can’t, I Can’t, I CAN‘T… have a “perfect” idea …there’s no such thing. I can… maaaybee express what’s in my heart. Cheesy. Maybe. Maybe that will be ok. My very pathetic crying slowly turned into bits of soft giggles. In the middle of my creative mess, I am thunderbolted with the same a-ha I’ve had a bazillion times. You don’t need to be perfect, just be real and try. It’s ok. You’re ok. That “perfect” little shadow friend knocks you on your ass and kills your expression every time. I throw my arms across my face blubbering out loud that I thought I fixed this nagging icky piece of myself. I feel a little ridiculous for getting this worked up, ok, maybe alot. Yup. Ok. Time to give this a break, get out and run around, shake it off. Let me be ok. I know I am not the only one having a great big heart that wants to do everything perfect. If you are being beaten down by your “perfect” little shadow, take my idea and take a break! Change the channel of what you are doing and thinking. Get out. Play. Connect with people, do one of your favorite things! It’s ok. You are ok. You and I are both perfectly messy, human and that’s...awesome! PS...I have rewritten this blog and corrected it about 18 times, I am going to need a BUNCH of play time ;)
Six or seven weeks later ~ I'm still here! Heck yeah, holy cats and wow! I think, that me writing today, is cause for celebration! I got on my positive pants and determination boots. Self-talk. It's one of those things we do. And it's so talked about that sometimes I roll my eyes when I hear people reference it. Blah-dee-friggin' blah. Yeah, I talk to myself. I talk to myself in the shower. All good stuff :) I talk to myself out loud when no one's home. I do a pretty good job cheerleading myself through the day. I talk out loud to drivers when I feel they need a consciousness check...I like positive framing for things, so I call it “road irritation.” ;) Under my breath, I whisper about frustrations while I’m at work. I coach myself when I'm working out or doing things that I really want to be good at... I talk to myself silently in my head all day long. We all do. Every so often, I am able to hear a deeper running repeating sound bite in my head, loud and VERY clear. Sometimes, it’s productive. Sometimes though, yuck, not so much. When I was in Nicaragua last summer, I sat for long periods of time looking at the ocean listening to the waves hit the shoreline. At first, it was relaxing and sort of mesmerizing. It made me curious. I wondered what kind of sea life could be swimming right out in front of me just below the surface, living their life. I've always had a deep fear of the ocean. Ocean life, from plankton to whales, living in that deep opaque water makes me want to pee my pants. I imagine that anything in it could swallow me up in one gulp, if I dared to even walk out ankle deep. The longer I sat, I noticed the world around me becoming more and more still. In the stillness, I heard this loud, crappy voice. I looked around wondering who was being that loud. But it wasn’t a voice outside me. It was a voice inside me. It was an incessant run of thoughts… “You're not skinny enough. You're not tan enough. Why did your relationship fail? Why are you so weird? Why aren't you farther along in life? You should be more fit. Why didn‘t you see earlier that your dad‘s health wasn’t so good? Why are you scared of the ocean? You’re too old to learn to surf. Why aren't you making use of every minute of every day to be productive? And on and on and on and on. I let it run for awhile thinking, “Oh this has got to have an end to it sometime soon. I am on holiday and having fun.” It was deluge of silent self-cutting so intense my eyes were frozen in a wide-open stare. I started shaming myself because I know better than to talk that way to myself that way. I shamed myself more because I wondered why I didn't have full awareness each day of this negative chatter. And then I became embarrassed about why I didn’t stop it. The words swimming below the surface of my skin were swallowing up my goodness and positivity. Eventually, tears rolling down my face, I finally said to the voice, “Stop it, for some whatever reason I can’t figure out, I love you”… and in that minute, it stopped. “Holy crap.” I thought. “Saying something nice to myself, stopped that deep non-stop negative thought line pooping all over my day.” I decided I wanted to be better…better just for me. In the past month’s of drowning in a lot of heartache pie, it became my inner champion’s mission to improve that negative running thought line. No small feat if you have ever tried this. I didn’t want the insanity of too much self-absorbed navel gazing nor did I want to spend a mountain of time tracing the bread crumb trails back to the ultimate culprit. So I decided, for lack of a better way to phrase it, to keep my beach learned simplicity. I chose to begin a lot of months ago, to recognize and tell that running negative critic voice, I love you, it‘s ok. I didn’t choose to do this for the rest of my life. I chose to do it just for one day. And then one more. And then one more. And then one more… Sometimes it’s a simple thing that gives your vibe a boost. It’s awesome to see how my improved self-talk lights up other people’s faces that I am dealing with all day long. The improved feeling in my own heart and mind is pretty good too. If I could wave a magic wand and lift that unproductive self-talk outa you, I would! (I still believe in magic :) Consider yourself hugged though and be encouraged to tune into your thoughts today. Just for one day, today. For the love of you, say to those runaway negative thoughts, “I love you and it’s ok.” PS: A day after I wrote this, my friend Jaime posted in her blog about a project that a bunch of us did in Taking Back Pretty for a Big Sky Dance Works class. A class designed to share struggles and celebration to boost self-esteem in life and in performance. I wrote this letter to myself as part of that project. What a good way to give yourself a break of understanding ~ Check out her blog as well! www.decomposingjaime.com |
Blog by Mary Riitano...I'm a Montana actress on a journey sharing my heart and growth through blogging, stories, and poetry, I have faith you'll find empowerment and inspiration to create like a champion in your own life! Categories
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