Do You See Joy and Happiness?

The TV show Wheel of Fortune reminds me of my Baba. This was back when Vanna White actually turned the letter “windows.” I’d sit next to my grandmother and watch the contestants choose their prizes in that dreamy merry-go-round, (before they played solely for cash). Pat Sajak’s smarmy voice bantered with contestants, and stoic Baba would sit on the couch, seriously looking at the clues, only uttering a sound if she knew the phrase.

So last week I had to laugh because I don’t think of Wheel of Fortune anymore. And one of my dear friends texted me that she watched it and couldn’t believe that none of the contestants knew the phrase—and she did. It was “Happy and Joyful.” Which made me smile because 1) memories of my Baba came flooding back, and 2) anyone who knows my friend wouldn’t be surprised that she knew it. Because she embodies true grace, eternal optimism, and spreads love and generosity throughout our community. I thought to myself, of course she saw the answer. Because she’s always looking for the happiness and joy in all situations.

During this hectic time of spring, how do you look for happiness and joy?

With Mother’s Day approaching I’m always reflective, my brain buzzing about the precious bonds with each of my kids and dog. And since April and May spring a predictable cluster-F of activity, I know I need to step back and breathe. And appreciate the fleeting moments of love and awe.

On Sunday I had a free 60-minute pocket when I went outside to start my overdue weeding. My 5^th grade son offered to help, so we quickly got busy digging up spikey weeds and dandelions. During the gardening he exclaimed with each worm found. At the fattest, the skinniest, the longest, the baby ones... Since he is my resident fisherman, I suggested that he save the worms for bait, and he started collecting them. That night as the small container sat on my kitchen counter, I added some water, and he warned me, “Mom, they’ll drown.”

The next morning I was shocked that 4 worms escaped, and I felt sad seeing them dried up, a brave effort to save themselves. In true mom protective fashion I wanted to save my son’s disappointment. So in the drizzle at 6 AM I ran outside to scoop up more dirt, transfer the still living worms out of the too wet container, and salvaged his bait farm.

Of course he noticed the bigger container when he sat down for breakfast. He smiled when he told me the expected “I told you so.” And then he gave me a big hug for trying to save the rest of his worms. And I thought to myself—oh, the dirty work of maternal love, rescuing those squiggly creatures for him.

Just like my friend who solved the puzzle, I saw the joy and happiness. Who knew it would be that sliver of time weeding with my kid and seeing his amazement with each treasured worm? And laughing at myself, outside in the light rain in my bathrobe and slippers just to make him happy, saving of all things, worms? If we all seek the sunshine, even during our busy, dizzy days, there’s pure joy and fulfillment in that. My Baba is looking down from heaven at our own backyard Real of Fortune.

“Heaven’s where you find it…standing right there in front of you.” Little Feat

3 Ties For Strength?

There’s a reason for Velcro sneakers, even though I always considered them a little tacky. Small kids battle with tying their shoes. Heck, lately I’ve been reminding all four kids to tie their overpriced sneakers and Sperrys.

I remember feeling relief when an after school teacher taught my youngest how to tie his shoes at age 5. But I don’t know what’s happened to his skills. Now his laces look mangled, and his shoes are deteriorating, not looking supportive. He doesn’t care about loose laces, and I look at his weary shoes and think—it’s so easy: just take the time to simply tie them well. Before school I’ve been tightly retying them with a solid double knot because I fear he will fall and get hurt.

Made me think about the strength—and weakness--of ties in relationships.

In the powerfully written and moving saga A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara four college roommates work through the changing landscape of relationships, careers, and self-awareness over the span of 30 years. One character has a specifically harrowing nightmare of a past. Yet the author cleverly weaves the dark story line with glimmers of love, hope, and life insights. One in particular stood out to me. Yanagihara describes marriage…and the notion that successful relationships need 3 strong reasons/virtues why you are with your partner. If you have 4 binding ties to each other you’re considered lucky.

This idea transcends marriages…to friendships, workplaces, family relationships…

Do you think about the 3 reasons you are bonded/connected to a relationship? And what happens when those ties fray?

I’m reading Daniel Goleman’s book A Force for Good about the Dalai Lama. Through anecdotes, quotations, and research the narrative covers global ideas, problems, and solutions—all stressing compassion as the necessary antidote to ubiquitous evils. When Goleman asks the Dalai Lama about whether he has hope for the Chinese and a solution or compromise for Tibet, the Dalai Lama differentiates the Chinese from the Communist Party. He explains it’s the Communist Party’s need for power that stands in the way. “The Communists have to use lots of censorship, which is actually a sign of their weakness—it shows their fear, that they have something to hide.” He advocates complete transparency, which is the basis of trust.

Which made me ponder…yes, when relationships wither and my stomach feels in knots about particular instances, the distilled, true essence missing is trust. And usually what causes that deterioration? A build-up of lies and the withholding of information.

So is trust the first, most important knot? What works for you?

If my son’s shoes could withstand a triple tie I would do that…because like the novel suggests—having 3 firm knots bind and create a solid foundation. And I suggest for the first, secure a tight one that you can trust to keep it together. Any others serve as bonuses to strengthen and support. Lace up your life with truth and you will step forward into a healthy space where goodness abounds.

Bridges Do Carry Us

Have you ever noticed that sometimes the bridges in songs stand out as the best part? In between the standard chorus/verse structure often artists create a change in tempo or key or craft an especially melodic moment. Do any favorites come to mind?

In the car the other day I heard Huey Lewis and the News’ “The Power of Love” and my heart leapt into an open space during its bridge. Which made me think about other songs’ bridges I love. In Little River Band’s “Cool Change” there’s the whisper of “let me breathe the air.” In Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now” it’s “I like it…have a good time, good time…” George Michael’s “Kissing a Fool” has a powerful, intense, emotional surge. While songs’ choruses may be the easily identifiable moment that we repeat, often these bridges offer a transition in the melody—allowing a break, perhaps some depth, some contrast, or a surprise.

Made me think—in life do we look for our bridges? Do we acknowledge and appreciate them for what they are? Or are we lost feeling in limbo?

We all go through transitions in life. Our present is ever-changing. It’s noticing that bridge—the supports-- the people who will help, the activities that will nurture, the loosening of the grip of what was to embracing what will be. Sometimes the bridges connecting us to a familiar past and the uncertain future can feel like an in between state, a time of anxiety and shakiness.

I witness this connecting time in life with my two older kids stretching themselves out of childhood and into young adulthood. I see it with friends who have moved geographically and are transitioning into their new community. I see it with kids when they’re home for the first time from college. I have observed friends in that uneasy time after losing a loved one, handling a shocking diagnosis, or going through a revolutionary transition. And obviously I, too know when my life sits in more of a gray area. Sometimes there’s a breakdown. Or a vibrant energy of change emerges. I can feel those times of inner growth and sense when my role is morphing.

I have always been fascinated by literal bridges—taking many travel photos of them because of their timeless aesthetic and majesty. Their implied strength. Their importance. Knowing that they have supported countless others in getting people from here to there.

So I suggest looking for these bridges in your life. And honor them. Embrace them. Give thanks knowing full well that their purpose is to take you to another space. We are constantly evolving in life, moving forward. We need to rely and love these nurturing elements that give us foundation and security.

Whether it’s noticing what’s underfoot literally or figuratively or looking for those especially lifting and meaningful moments in songs, give gratitude that they exist and welcome the view/space. Know you are bolstered—and allow that support to carry you forward. Who knows? Your bridges may be your favorite parts in life.

Barry Manilow’s bridge in “Weekend in New England”: I feel the change coming. I feel the wind blow. I feel brave and daring…

How Do You Get That Bounce “Bawk”?

While I love the “spring forward” moment for many reasons—more daylight, the promise of warmer weather-- undoubtedly that one-hour difference causes disruption in our household. Even this morning I told my youngest that next week he’ll be back to his old sleep routine and not wake up so early, (and hopefully allow me to drink my coffee in quiet). He just needs to adjust, like we all do, with the seasons transitioning.

Yesterday at the hair salon I mindlessly flipped through Entertainment Weekly and was shocked to see seasoned Hollywood actors with their 1980/90s movie costars. Some look absolutely amazing as they’ve transitioned to middle age—they’re no spring chickens. Julia Roberts at 51? Stunning. Cameron Diaz at 46? Glowing. Dermot Mulroney? Dashingly handsome at 55.

Granted, I know these stars have their crews of personal trainers, makeup artists, chefs, and someone adjusting the light angles for flattering photographs, but still…

For those of us who are not spring chickens…how do we put ourselves in our best light? How do we adjust?

Charles Darwin came up with the idea of phototropism…that a growing shoot of grass always bends towards the light. With many plants in my house I always marvel at the phenomenon of watching them lean eagerly towards the window—and we humans are no different. We flourish with positive energy. Think about that teacher, coach, boss, or friend who believed in the best in you versus the one who cut you down or set limiting expectations.

Maybe that’s simply the secret…we just need to focus on where we feel our best, where we shine. Focus less on our weaknesses, stop obsessing about fixing people or things, and ignore people who exclude and make us feel bad. Instead think about not just highlighting our strengths, but how to spread that positivity in the community. Don’t get hung up or distracted by personal and life’s weaknesses. Or disappointments.

Along with the natural change of seasons I’m mentally set to lighten the load, take off my ever-present down parka, and lean my face towards the sun and hopefully feel a quicker pop to my step. If you have also felt that winter dullness, work on getting your bounce “bawk” and feel the powerful pull towards the light. Bask in the strengths that fortify you. Surround yourself with uplifting people, watch an old movie that brings warmth to your soul, download some upbeat tunes, or sit in a sunny window. Indeed, it is time to spring forward.

Repeat History-- Yay or Nay?

Last weekend I watched the 2018 documentary RBG, and silent tears streamed down my cheeks. I’m not one of those 40something women with Ruth Bader Ginsburg tattoos, and I don’t dress up my dog in a dissent collar. I am embarrassed to say I never followed her legal career in the papers or on tumblr. But something stirred inside me this year. I devoured Gloria Steinem’s book On the Road. Which awakened me to read both a Ginsburg biography and her autobiography.

Learning details of the 1972 women’s movement and the social inequities today surprised me. So many changes—and rather recently. While I was a girl taking tap lessons and watching The Brady Bunch reruns, thousands of women were laying the groundwork not only for a future me. But for my daughter. How did I never hear of these milestones? The movements? The matriarchs of women’s lib?

As a young business consultant I remember a salty team member in her 50s, a computer science engineer, saying with an icy edge, “You,” (interpreted as the greater ‘you’ of women my age), “will never understand or appreciate all that we’ve done for you.” I probably sipped my coffee and nodded, and wondered why she seemed angry. I most likely answered with a respectful response and quickly asked what time we were leaving for our client meeting. In some ways she was right. I didn’t fully understand then. But I’m starting to. Just. Now.

Do we ignore the importance of gender equality’s struggle? Or is it pure ignorance—we don’t know what we simply don’t know?

Raising a daughter and three sons I’m ever-conscious of gender stereotypes and the treatment of the sexes. Wanting to provide opportunities for them all--yes, you can pursue what you love in life, yes, you all need to learn to cook and do your own laundry, yes, you’re all strong, capable beings. But what I’ve learned, and perpetuated even perhaps, is an unconscious silence about the history of gender’s evolution.

And I consider my husband and I enlightened. I graduated from an undergraduate institution that emboldened us all with the equal treatment of genders…and not only did I thrive in that environment, I am fervently proud of it.

So how could I be crying quiet tears? Ginsburg’s story moved me. But it wasn’t just her story that made me cry. It was that her story was part of ALL of our collective stories. And most of us don’t realize it. So we definitely do not give it proper thanks.

The sound of that silence thundered in my brain. The trailblazing activists, the legislators who took a stand, the individuals cracking glass ceilings. What were the whispers of the early suffragists in 1848 or in 1920? I could hear their haunted echoes, yet jumping to present day not many talk about it. I know my children aren’t discussing this important history. I’ve heard women my age laugh about the women’s marches. People have told me, “I could never vote for a female president.” Women defend and doubt misogynistic people in the news. WHY?

As Justice Ginsburg herself has said, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” I only hope that more people become conscious of the waves of gender equality warriors and maybe not so silently give thanks to them. We owe them—and our future “them”—much more. Perhaps even a roar. And maybe this is a case for repeating history. Literally out loud. And often.

 “It is not women’s liberation, it is women’s and men’s liberation.”  

Ruth Bader Ginsburg

A Call for More Ball Bearings in Life

“I refuse to flip the numbers,” said one opponent. Her partner agreed. “We never touch the numbers because we always know the score.” This exchange happened at the start of my tennis match a few weeks ago. For those who don’t play, the common practice is to flip a scorecard after every odd game to keep track of the match—so no one disagrees with the final score. Believe me, at my age—and I play with some women decades older—it’s easy to lose track of the score. Reminders help. Which is why my partner and I were surprised.

My response? “I don’t get it. The scorecard is there so everyone agrees. It reduces the possibility of friction.” To which the one very focused woman replied, “If you don’t like friction, then you’re playing the wrong sport.”

Which made me laugh. Because while I love tennis, I don’t like pissing bouts about the score. Or line calls. Or anything that should be obvious. I wondered if they were playing some mental mind game with us…which must have worked because 1.) they won, 2.) I’m still thinking about it.

Those women got under my skin. Why perpetuate senseless friction when it can be easily avoided? Isn’t that wasted, misdirected, negative energy?

I just finished Walter Isaacson’s biography of the genius work and thinking of Leonardo da Vinci. Beyond being fascinated by countless lessons learned from his works and process…one observation stuck out: “What prevents perpetual motion, Leonardo realized, is the inevitable loss of momentum in a system when it rubs against reality. Friction causes energy to be lost and prevents motion from being perpetual.” His discovery of using lubrication and ball bearings to reduce friction was 300 years ahead of his time.

And as many remember from the famed 1985 movie Fletch, Chevy Chase’s character Gordon Liddy said, “Aww, come on guys, it’s so simple maybe you need a refresher course. It’s all ball bearings nowadays.”  

It’s 2019, and I wish there were less friction to allow for constant motion—and progress and peace—whether that means in relationships, business, education, politics, even down to the chronic sibling fights battled in my house. As da Vinci’s creative mind posited, with friction, energy is lost.

What gets in the way? I know some personality types thrive with drama. Maybe that’s it. Some people’s egos create insulated bubbles. Some folks build walls. Some lack the patience and compassion. Instead of being an obstacle…why not focus on using positive actions/thoughts/help, which would only energize others and continue their momentum? Wouldn’t the world be better?

Yes, sometimes friction creates an essential spark, but not all situations need conflict. Isn’t life “flipping” tough enough at times? Just like Chevy Chase’s mechanic Liddy, (novelty teeth optional), we can be pseudo-repairmen and be aware of easy ways to smooth pointless stickiness. I wish that more people would be aware of the energy erosion jam and be more mindful of adding figurative ball bearings to life. It really is “so simple.”

Gut-sy Girl Confessions: 5 Steps to a Healthier You

Five years ago I took a keen interest in my physical health…reeling from symptoms of debilitating foot pain, brain fog, hair loss, joint pain, and extreme lethargy. Thankfully a podiatrist (of all specialists!?!) said I probably had an autoimmune issue and advised to get my thyroid checked. That led to a series of doctor visits, ultimately a Hashimotos diagnosis, and a come to Jesus realization that diet affects physical and mental health. So with tears, I gave up gluten and mostly dairy and sugar. I saw a holistic practitioner whom I still see today—and she recommended probiotics and supplements. After 3 months my symptoms went away, and I’ve been a believer ever since. That gut health revolution has put me on a path, (I hope), to long lasting wellness. And I want my friends and family to feel their best…which is why I’m sharing my story.

Yet last year I took the gut focus even farther. I resolved to make a concerted effort to listen to my gut, dig deep into maybe what you would call the bowels of my conscious soul, to make every decision. From friendships, to whether to go out on a cold Friday evening, to seeking work opportunities, to signing up my kids for activities. And the result? It’s been a damn good year.

Which makes me wonder…why go against your gut…EVER?

I wish I knew then what I know now. That there is beauty with getting older and the wisdom associated with it. If we all know more about physical and mental health…and the link to our guts…why don’t more people take care of themselves and improve? Is it denial? Lack of knowledge? Inertia?

Continuing my learning quest I recently read the book Liver Rescue seeking answers to teen acne and kid high blood pressure—with an ever-open eye to Hashis. I discovered even more changes to make. That if we take better care of our livers then many health problems could be fixed: diabetes, gout, acne, autoimmune diseases, to name a few. So in lieu of making drastic changes like buying crates of celery to juice every morning, (and I may get there at some point), I took easy, ahem, digestible, steps. Like drinking a pint of lemon water at the start and end of my day. Eating more apples and less meat.

For these past 5 weeks I've felt the best in seriously I don’t know when. And everyone can make incremental changes…like slicing a lemon, squeezing it into water, and chugging it at least twice a day.

I’m not looking for a pat on the back or smug reactions—my hope is that my kids and those I love and care about take a look inward and:

1. take time to know yourself, your priorities, and your health
2. learn as much as you can about the gut and liver
3. make even small diet changes that will undoubtedly make you feel better
4. listen to your intuition and make decisions that feel right
5. be good to yourself

We have a lot of life yet to live. It’s never too late to treat yourself well. Is it coincidence that gut means “well” in German?

Books I recommend if you’re interested in learning more:

Wheat Belly by William Davis

Medical Medium by Anthony William

Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis by Izabella Wentz

A Mind of Your Own by Kelly Brogan, MD

Adrenal Fatigue by James L. Wilson

Sugar Busters by H. Leighton Steward

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver

Liver Rescue by Anthony William

Empty is the New Full

I’m ready to spend the rest of winter hibernating under a blanket next to a mug of steaming coffee and a book. With only so much free time…or maybe that’s so little…I resist the lure of indefinite titles of TV shows to binge watch…opting for the quieter option of reading. Since watching Coach Taylor and other memorable characters on Friday Night Lights a few years ago I haven’t been inspired to watch another series…(I welcome your recommendations).

One Netflix show—Marie Kondo’s series about tidying up—has been in the spotlight. Yet I don’t have the desire to sit on my couch while watching someone else purge when I know that my garage, bedroom, and basement need a full-time consultant to help rid my house of joyless clutter.

Last week I talked to my good friend who recently moved into her new home. They sold most of their furniture before crossing 5 states, so her voice echoed while walking through her living room. I suggested taking photos of the open space. To take it in. Enjoy the vast room and possibilities. To savor that freedom to acquire at leisure. Over the course of time and the natural need to have a sofa and other furniture—the house will fill up.

For our wellness we all can concentrate on “clearing house” versus just donating unused things. We can choose mind over matter. Like, literally….choose a clear mind and focus on simplifying thoughts and energy vs. time spent on purging actual objects.

There is value to feeling empty. To be able to breathe deeply. To reflect how you’d like to fill it. If you’re so stuffed…how can anything new fit in? It’s uncomfortable and unhealthy.

From my own perspective I have noticed my personal habits change. From working at an aggressive pace every day and going out nightly as a twentysomething. To having a schedule so full with ink that somehow I got through it all. Thrived on it, actually. To my thirties balancing playdates with constant diaper changes and tossing in a part-time job. To now…how choked I feel if I don’t build in that space. A natural buffer. How stressed I feel when the candle burns on 6 ends. I gravitate towards the pull to just be—reading, writing, spending time outside…

In getting older--do you need more quiet? More space? More free time?

If seeing posts about cleaning out stuff exhausts you—if that isn’t you or your priority—then I suggest looking inward. You can get your fill out of emptying your schedule, clearing your head, saying no to commitments, and crafting time for yourself. Emptiness allows time to breathe, to get hungry, to quietly reflect, and to appreciate the space. By allowing yourself breaks you open yourself up to other ways to feed and fuel your soul. As Coach Taylor cheered with his team on my favorite TV show—“Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.” Free your mind and enjoy the fullness of that emptiness.

Late Bloomers May Bring Unexpected Joys

Some gardeners look at seed catalogs during the winter, anticipating new plants to become food delicacies to enjoy. I look out at my simple, overgrown weedy garden on this January day and wonder if I’ll ever grow more than one cantaloupe a season. And will it be worth it?

As much as I love gardening—it’s backbreaking work. Sometimes with little rewards. Some plants do better than others. Even last week I was surprised by a tiny indoor spider plant—one that I’ve had for 11 years. It bloomed a delicate flower that lasted a day. For more than a decade this plant never bloomed a flower. What a delightful surprise! All this time…and this week, for a fraction of time, it gave me an unexpected joy.

Last weekend I was talking to two moms, and I had no clue that one has an interest in being a young adult novelist. I say has for a reason, because I believe anyone who has a dream, who feels a calling, can pursue it—no matter when in life they bloom.

Do you feel like a late bloomer? What soulful calling churns in your deepest thoughts? What whispers ideas that excite your imagination?

Those moments crackle in my spine…I get urges to create, to make connections, to produce something new. And when those moments germinate my pulse quickens and physically I feel a lightness and energy: hope intertwined with innovation and joy. In some ways I feel like seeds had been buried deep in some wintry garden of my soul, and who knows when the flower will burst?

I wonder if others feel the same. Like even Vera Wang---I had no idea that she worked as a fashion editor until age 39. Then she opened her boutique and began designing wedding gowns. Or that American painter Grandma Moses, born in 1860, had her first big show in 1940. How impressive that a young-at-heart 78, Moses began painting in earnest.

What has always intrigued me about creativity and art—and that applies to entrepreneurs starting a new company, engineers striking up product ideas, amateur chefs concocting a dish—in ALL areas of life--is that everyone is juiced with the ability to create. That all it takes is a glimmer of an idea, some carved out time to focus on it, and a pure joy of simmering in the creation.

Everyone has a creative spark inside. It may take 11 years to see it surface, like the delicate spider plant flower. It may take decades for a book to sell. It may be even decades before you start. It may be a lifetime of backbreaking work to see any success…but that’s not the point, is it?  If you feel that sensation bubbling, that you just want to start, who knows what will burst forth? Along the way the inner joy will bring you a sense of lightness and purpose. You may even surprise yourself, I’m sure.

Time article about Grandma Moses

Photo Finish? A Real Race to Picture Popularity

Over Thanksgiving my family spent some peaceful time in Cape Cod. On a sunny yet frigid day I drove my boys to a beach to check out the late afternoon sun on the bay. Surprised, we were struck by the impressive beauty of the frozen sea foam creating an Arctic scene. Knowing that my 14 year-old daughter would love taking landscape pictures I called my husband to drive her to the same spot.

My daughter loves taking photos, and I wholeheartedly encourage this passion. Immediately I could sense her excitement—she started clicking, standing on ice, kneeling, trying to capture the best possible angles. Granted, she was wearing Birkenstocks unlike the polar expedition attire I wore. When she lost her sandal somewhere in icy slush she didn’t even tell me…determined to find it. I saw her gloveless hands digging, searching, when I realized what happened. Going after the ideal photo and lost in the moment she did not think about possibly losing the sandal. I told her to get to the car and put on the heat. She needed to defrost. And while the sun set I started poking the frosty surf, muttering under my breath at the moment’s absurdity.

I thought—how far would she go for a photo?

Hello, perspective…recently my newsfeed highlighted an article about senseless deaths from people going much farther than my daughter to snap the enviable pic: a culture of extremes for social media fame. People literally sitting on the edge of skyscrapers for Instagram popularity. Hiking scary cliffs. Taking a selfie with a bear. The adrenaline achieved plus the likes and follower tallies fuel even the average person to take high risks and make questionable decisions.

Now I fully realize that my daughter’s shutterbug quest isn’t the same as posing next to an erupting volcano—but I wonder: how far will people go in potentially harmful situations? And as  parents…do we understand the intense social pressures that stir these extreme choices? And I don’t mean for just photography--sake, I mean in life. For 13 years total I will parent teenagers, (calculating until my youngest will be 19), and merely at the cusp now I wonder if my nerves can hack it. I worry about my kids’ safety. And my fortitude. This when my kids haven’t pushed the limits. Yet.

Researching risky teen behavior I found that the most profound influence is, surprise, their peers. That teen brains are wired to focus on their friends, seek peer rewards, and long to be included. And the brain’s lateral prefrontal cortex, which is responsible for mature self-regulation, develops gradually during adolescence. 

So how far will kids go? How much effort will we make to literally peer into our teens’ own lenses to understand their motivations and decisions? As I continue this journey with the sacred sisterhood of cherished mom friends, I can only hope to glean some insights before our kids—or us—literally snap.

And if you’re wondering what happened to my daughter’s Birkenstock…I determinedly plowed through that Cape Cod Bay slush, and with frozen fingers extracted her sandal.

Photo Extremes article in Fast Company

Teens and Risk Taking article in Psychology Today

Spinning My Own 45

Growing up we had a Fisher Price record player, and I remember being at the age when I was beyond listening to books on records. At Allentown’s Laneco, the equivalent of today’s Target, (food, home goods, even clothes), the music section pulled me every shopping trip. One day my mom told us we could pick out our own record, and I took the task seriously, flipping through the 45s in their paper covers, wanting to make a good first purchase. I ended up choosing Diana Ross’s “Upside Down”—the first of many musical buys in my life.

And here I am…turning 45. Sometimes I relate to those records, constantly spinning. As much as I’ve seen our world turn upside down I hold many steady truths close to my heart. What truths propel you? What keeps you grounded? Inspired? Here’s just a sampling of things I’ve witnessed, internalized, and ponder, especially in the first half of my 40s:

• Senseless events happen in every community.
• Kids’ unique glow and their impressionable souls need to be celebrated and encouraged.
• Our livers harbor too many toxins. We all need to hydrate and eat healthier.
• Toxicity in all areas of life should be eliminated.
• Stay true to yourself. And always strive to improve.
• A democracy should have government representation that truly represents its citizens.
• Some of society’s “machines” seem too daunting to fix.
• Every single child needs teachers who have their backs.
• Surround yourself with people who feel like sunshine.
• Don’t take wins to your head or losses to your heart.
• I’ll never tire of reading and loving the power of an amazing book.
• Finding activities that bring you joy should never tag along with guilt.
• Moms amaze me for their strength, how much they carry, and all that they do.
• It’s a tough tightrope of living for today and saving for the future.
• We cannot grasp the digital effects on our children—they live a different childhood than ours.
• Time seems to be moving at a faster clip.
• Mainstream medicine still does not have a handle on autoimmune diseases.
• Leaders should follow a moral code.
• The rampant sexual harassment reported over the past year disturbs me.
• Everyone has a story to tell. They’re worth listening to.
• I still get awestruck by privilege. That certain people’s paths are instantly easier because of money and connections. I often wonder if they sincerely, humbly are grateful for it.
• Coordinating trips with friends is nearly impossible because everyone has so much happening. But those relationships and “time off” nourish the soul.
• I believe in the promise of kids. And I hope they believe in themselves.

As I spin from day to day at the age of 45, I rely more on instincts, often having my emotions turned “inside out” like Diana Ross sings, and I know this much to be true. That even at 45—with the right people around—you can still feel hopeful, young, and inspired. There’s so much life yet to be played! 

Seeking Simplicity

Like in my journal where a blank page offers a sense of hope, the clicking over into a new year brings that same sense of optimism and clarity. A sincere taking stock of both the good and frustrating from the last 12 months with a twist of yearning, wide-eyed promise into the next. In some ways the mental page flip of the kitchen calendar reminds me what is most important in life. 

With renewed spirit after the overindulgence of the holidays—the mind/body/house clutter—always returns with a need to simplify. The need to refine. Years ago when I was a business consultant in Boston my favorite manager, Bob, told me that we should be able to relay our overarching plan to the client in haiku form. That the usual consulting-ese often convolutes the purpose of engagements. We should stay focused with a clear objective in everything we do and say. That idea stuck with me.

I just read Stephen King’s memoir On Writing, and he would agree with Bob. He suggests during the first edit that you reduce the writing by 10% and stay focused on the overall theme. That every detail, action, and dialogue should all advance in the sweeping notion of the story’s central idea. 

With too many life distractions how difficult is it to stay focused? Can we all edit 10% of our lives?

I am in awe of successful people who achieve beyond what I have done in my 44 years. Sometimes I wonder if it’s because I wander too much…that multitasking in different directions stands as a feeble, flimsy yet realistic excuse for not doing more. I can justify that of course I haven’t finished my 180,000 page novel; that I’m too busy cleaning up my kitchen five times a day along with everything else that drains my energy. As Seth Meyers and Amy Poehler would say, “Really?!?!”

So in seeking simplicity I took a stab at writing my own haiku:

Striving for simple,

honest, true living

sometimes exhausts me.

Granted, traditional Japanese poets wrote haiku poems inspired by nature, a moment of beauty, or a poignant experience, and mine is none of that…but those 17 syllables encapsulate how I feel. Why does carving out a simpler life take so much work?

In A Whole New Mind author Daniel Pink suggests drawing a five-line self-portrait for a creative spin at looking at the bigger picture. I interpreted the exercise as a way to distill the true essence of who you are. A graphical haiku of sorts. Here’s mine:

As with all new year’s resolutions filled with an expectant hope, my search for simplicity will, I’m sure, veer off-course as life’s mundane consumes my minutes. But I pray that glimpses of filtered, stripped-down priorities make their way into my cluttered mind as reminders to keep it simple. And I suggest that you try the same—pen a poem or draw upon what’s truly essential for you.