To Begin Again?

I have been asked by a number of people as to why I stopped writing this blog. I really had no answer other than I had a lot on my plate...but then I always have a lot on my plate.

So, I am considering starting again but only if there is value in it.

Comments?

Questions?

Feedback?

All welcome.

Its Time

Here it is, the end of September and we are in the midst of foliage. With colors exploding everywhere the landscape looks almost magical.

I am lucky that the route I drive to work is along one of the most scenic in the area. Along with the colorful terrain, there are many more leaves on my patio than were there last week. And so the beginning of the dormant season has begun. Winter will be early.

Like in nature, in order to flourish and grow going forward, there are things that must die or be left behind. I think human nature is that we hold on to things at all costs and sometimes to our detriment. Maturity is understanding and distinguishing what is worth holding onto and what needs to be let go of. Things that aren't meant to be held onto find their way out of our lives when the time is right.

I have enjoyed writing this blog for many months now. It has taken me places I never thought I'd go. Exposing your soul for the world to see is an odd exercise but quite valuable. I have enjoyed the emails and responses that I've received. When people have told me that what I've written about affected them in some way then I feel as though my mission with this was accomplished. I also hope there were plenty of giggles at the silliness of some of the writing.

If you are in tuned with who you are, you will find that you as well are on a journey and sometimes where it leads you is nowhere you'd thought you'd end up when you began.

When I started this, I had no expectations of what the outcome would be only that I wrote from somewhere deep inside and hoped to express my own view of life. Our greatest teacher is life itself and all it has to offer. That education never ends. As far as my own life education, I have learned a few things this year.

- We are capable of anything.
- We can be our own worst enemy
- When we take ego out of an equation, we see the situation for what it is.
- We truly tend to hurt the ones we love the most.
- Perception is reality.
- The people in our lives are our greatest gifts.
- We can live comfortably and happily with far less than we think we need.
- Hope is the driving force within anyone.
- Our value is self imposed.

There is far more but you get the idea.

And so I've decided that today, September 30th will be my last post. I thank everyone who has read this and I am humbled by the responses.

Life continues to surprise me and my attention now has to be on other things that at the moment need my total focus. I am in the process of creating a website with similiar concepts and hope to launch that within the next 2 months. I welcome anyone to email me at Rcipr@aol.com for more information.

God bless and may we all find that amazing sense of peace and clarity that deep down we are striving for.

Another Year Older...

Here it is. My birthday. Having completed my 48 year and standing at the entrance way my 49th.

I'm one of those annoying people who really loves to celebrate birthdays, always have and God willing....always will can't wait for the BIG 50.

As I look back to how I spent my past birthday it was vastly different from how I will spend today. But then, my entire life is vastly different from last year...and the important thing is...I wouldn't change one thing.

Last year's festivities were held in my apartment on the 30th floor of a high rise with killer views. We enjoyed catered food (OK, my brother is a chef so I cheat on that), champagne, wines and a tremendous amount of laughter.

This year a good friend is taking me to dinner and then we are heading for our favorite watering hole to just have a great time with a bunch of friends. I'm sure there will be laughter to rival that of the past.

My current life resembles nothing of my past life. Its almost as if I'm two different people...somehow I am. Before you call the men in the white coats to take me away for being this side of psychotic you would have to appreciate that I miss none of what I was. I do miss being around my family and some of my friends back in NY. I miss them terribly. But, I've been lucky in that I have a circle of friends here that have become very special to me. No matter what life brings you its ultimately the people in your life that help you get through it all.

Having gone though a year of painful transitions, its almost as though God took pity and said, "Here, here are some people that will help you get through the troughs and be there to celebrate the peaks." Tonight, we are celebrating peaks.

I look forward to this year, after all, our year begins on our birthdays and not on January 1st, I know that everything that has changed has changed because it needed to make room for the new. The circumstances that allowed me to be here allowed me to bring new people into my life, some of which I would probably not have met if my life in NY was still intact. For that I am grateful.

I don't know how long I will be here. Maybe another year, maybe more, maybe less. I will be open to where life is leading me and instead of worrying about it I'm going to just take every day for the adventure it promises to be.

I openly say thank you to my old friends in NY and my new friends here who have been supportive through my ordeal(s) and look forward to many many more years of laughter and fun.

The Job

Until I have a set schedule, my hours and shifts will change. So far I've put in 4 full days and have had Saturday, Sunday & today off. Starting tomorrow I will have 6 straight days of relentless annoyances.

Along with the word 'shift' creeping into my vernacular...I now MUST take lunch within the required time frame. Apparently labor laws are very very strict and the powers that be will fire your ass if you do not take it seriously. They do not want infractions because they are quite costly. The entire half hour before actually taking your lunch break, is fraught with anxiousness about getting out on time lest there be a scolding if you are late to leave.

Training for any new job is a colossal P.I.T.A. I hate getting up to speed but unfortunately a necessary evil. Can't fix problems until you know how the problems got to be problems in the first place. Its the old "you can only learn by making mistakes." But in this case, its hopefully other people's mistakes you're fixing.

The first couple of days were pure hell. If I looked like a deer caught in the headlights it was because it was like standing in the middle of the wrong side of a 6 lane highway without a car. Many a time during those first few days the question "What the hell am I doing here?" repeatedly danced through my head. There was also the tad bit of resentment among the rank and file because I did not come up through the normal channels of promotion for a job well done. To make matters worse, those who report to me expect me to 'know it all.' This is impossible since at the moment, I don't even know any of some.

It is fascinating the level of commitment people have to their hourly jobs. They will ONLY do what they are paid to do and NOT a fraction more. These are the same people who complain about the unfairness of management.


On my second day I thought it best to familiarize myself with the function of 'cashiering' so that I could actually be of help instead of frantically pinging my palm pilot looking for assistance if something went wrong with the system.

As this lovely lady took the time to 'show me the ropes' ...I noticed that the credit card swipe machine had a piece of register tape with the words "DOES NOT WORK" scribbled on it and stuck to the machine itself. To give you an idea of what frustrations lie ahead the following conversation ensued:


ME: 'What's wrong with the swipe machine?"

HER: 'I don't know, I found it this way when I came on shift." (shift was 3 hours earlier)

ME: 'Have you told anyone it doesn't work?'

HER: 'No.'

ME: 'Well, if no one knows it doesn't work then it won't be fixed."

HER: 'Oh, I guess.'


As it happened one of the other managers walked by and I asked her if she was aware that there was a problem with the machine. The answer was 'No, no one told me." Rebooting took all of 30 seconds.


I guess the thought process was that magic elves would miraculously adjust system problems without actual human intervention because after all how DO the shelves get stocked for the morning rush?

The people though are truly nice and it will be great fun going forward and I am one of those who believe that you don't ever expect people to do what you are not willing to do yourself.

On This Day

There are few of us who do not remember where we were and exactly what we were doing the very moment we became aware of the catastrophe in our beloved NYC in 2001.

No humanly words can ever express what each and every individual experienced. The media played the horrific scenes repeatedly as if any one of us could ever forget.



For those of us who were in the 'Wall Street' financial community at the time, we know that it is a large industry. Yet within the trading world it has always seemed like a small village. You either knew someone or knew of someone.

I still remember the very last conversation I had with a young man at Cantor Fitzgerald not 15 minutes earlier. He was asking me about Vermont because he wanted to take his Mom there on a mini vacation to see the foliage.



My own sister worked at the NYSE. As I fielded panicked phone calls between Mom and my brother in law, I was telling my sister that she needed to leave and make her way to my apartment ASAP. I tried to keep my own fear from exploding so as to stay calm on the phone for my Mom's benefit. I found myself outright lying and assuring her that my sister was not in any danger when I knew nothing of the sort. My sister eventually walked to my home many hours later, but not before she was witness to chaos.



If there is a hell, that day may have been a glimpse of what it is like.



I remember those who were a necessary part of my daily business life, but more so the laughter they evoked almost continuously. No one can joke like a trader. I choose to remember them in this way. Their very existence, made a hectic and stressful industry fun. They were part of a network of individuals who recognized that along side the seriousness of what we did for a living, there needed to be balance in the way of downright silliness and sarcasm; two things traders do well. I miss the human spirit that allowed that to be.



My prayers go out to family and friends of all who lost someone who made their world a better place.

Spill in Auto Parts

How do you get out of a RUT? Find something NEW to do.

The past couple of months of a non-productive life style has left me chasing my tail doing a lot of absolutely nothing of value. I hate down time. As much as I try to like and enjoy it, I truly hate it. Idle minds and such. When boredom hits its astounding the things I'm likely to do to keep my mind occupied.

Makes me wonder how some people are able to enjoy it. I'm not talking about weekends and vacations days. Those are usually filled with to-do lists and fun. But when you have endless days of sameness it gets incredibly irritating.

A few weeks ago, I jokingly said to a friend, "I should get a job at (insert Fortune 500 company.) so I can write a book called "From Wall Street to..." (you can probably fill in the blank with little help). It'll keep me off the streets and allow me to do what I enjoy which is interacting with people. If there is something owning my own business taught me is that I love dealing with the public. I've got the right temperament for it. Very little rattles me and I'm less likely to punch someone in the face even if they deserve it.

Be careful what you put out to the Universe. I have said this before, I will say it again. What you put out there, COMES back even if you don't really want it.

Two days later I get an automatic email from http://www.monster.com/ that the company I was joking about had openings that fit what I was looking for. Now, my resume has been on there for months and since I never really paid attention, half the stuff that came through was of little interest and I was too lazy to change my search criteria. Given that what I would have hoped to find had zero to do with my background it was pretty much a lost cause in my opinion.

But there is was. I think I laughed and for fits and giggles (and a possible book deal in the future) went ahead and filled out the online application and took an 'assessment' test which lasted about an hour. (to make sure I'm not insane and wouldn't actually bring physical harm to a customer). The entire process was absolutely tedious but, what the heck?

To make a long and boring story short, yesterday I joined the ranks of productive and tax paying citizens as a manager in this retail giant. The organization itself is a machine and the learning curve will be fascinating. I'll know within 5 months whether this is a company I will want to grow with. If it is, then the career path for the next 15 years will be a blast and I have no doubt in my mind that I will take it as far as I choose to. Those who really know me, know that I am a dead serious about that last statement.

This has less to do with my getting a job (yes, OK...finally...are you happy now?) than realizing that when you're ready for the next step, it presents itself and all you really need to do is be aware of it. When it happens this easily, then it is the right thing for the present.

The best way to know that you're following what you are meant to for that time frame is that the pieces seem to fall into place effortlessly. By changing this one thing it will bring about different experiences and people into my life. The RUT has been broken and time will tell what the horizon looks like.

And who knows? Maybe I'll meet my soulmate as we both reach for the last bottle of wiper fluid.

Corn Dogs & Fake Tats

The past few days have been a blur. One of my dearest and closest friends drove up from NYC to spend the long weekend.

The main highlight on the agenda was a trip into Rutland to go to the annual Vermont State Fair. You haven't lived until you've seen a dairy cow judging contest. Actually we were witness to that last year and this year decided that we'd seen enough swollen udders the previous summer to last a life time. Last year we were giggling so loud that people were shooting us really terse looks because apparently we were not taking it seriously.

What do city girls know about cow judging anyway? As we questioned in stage whispers, wondering what it was exactly they were judged on, one gracious farmer laughing at our silliness volunteered the information. Udder size. All I could think was, oh my God, but PMS must be a walk in the park compared to what these poor animals go through for a ribbon.

Now THERE is a thought for a contest. Monthly PMS ribbons. Couple that with menopausal tendencies and you've got your game on. The categories would be endless. But I digress.

I've never been to any other State fair, but as far as I could see this one was the same as most fairs I have been to only on a larger scale. Fried foods from one end of the grounds to another. A clump of fried dough anyone? Sounds vile until you look at it and it looks like a giant zeppole with powdered sugar. Just the thought of eating one was enough to make me ill. It would have been my constant companion for a number of days and I would have spent the subsequent weeks vowing I would NEVER eat something like that again. I'm sure my Pavlovian response stemmed from some past fair that I have conveniently forgotten about where I actually ingested one. So be that as it may, I look at it as missing out on about 900+ calories that would have immediately found its way between me and my Levis.

Along side the various fried food and cotton candy vendors, are the typical 'games' which are designed to attract your many dollars and have you leaving with a consolation prize worth about 20c. Except perhaps the Duck Plucking which promised a "WINNER EVERY TIME". In a small pool the likes of which you might fill for a young child or your feet in the blistering heat of a summer afternoon, there were possibly 200 tiny plastic ducks. As we strolled by, the man in the orange apron yelled out "LADIES!!!! Pluck a duck? Pluck a duck?" We looked at the pool and its many multi colored inhabitants, looked at each other and considered the odds of coming home with a blow up hammer. In the end we politely said 'no thank you' and kept walking.

We walked past the many rides which would ultimately spin you senseless resulting in possibly parting with the fried dough which had been eaten in the preceding half hour. But it wasn't all games and fried foods.

There were agricultural exhibits and contests for the best in show for everything from rabbits to vegetables. We wondered exactly how an onion or a string bean is judged but couldn't find anyone to ask. Though, we did see a pumpkin which weight in at 310lbs so that one was a given.

All in all it was a nice afternoon spent with a true friend. Once we had our fill of livestock, produce and Maple everything, we did come home with our own ideas of souvenirs. Temporary tattoos, T-shirts for friends and our palms read.


I've decided to post only on Mondays from now with the occasional exception for important days.

Here's Your Pill

I don't watch much TV. I have nothing against TV, but if given the choice of doing anything else (which I can normally find to do) or watching a program, I would rather do anything else. There are times though when that is not possible as was the case at 3:00am this morning.

I'm a pretty solid sleeper. The one thing I am really grateful for is my ability to hit the pillow and totally pass out even when there is no alcohol involved. It is very rare for me to wake up in the middle of the night but last night, for whatever reason, I did. Maybe my sleep was disturbed by the one too many drinks I had (which in this case were only two) but I woke with a raging headache. Who the hell drinks Drambuie anyway?

After tossing and turning for about 15 minutes I knew that falling right out again was not happening. So I did what I have done maybe a total of 6 times in my entire life. I got out of bed and went to the living room to watch....TV. In answer to the question being asked...No, I do not have a TV in my bedroom. Never have. According to Feng Shui principles, it is very bad so as a habit I picked up when I first started understanding these principles (during my brief marriage) I nixed the TV in the bedroom and have never missed it. I think that is the main reason I can sleep so easily.

But last night I found myself curled up on my sofa, with remote in hand. I have no idea what is on TV at this time of night but I had heard stories. TV is sometimes lovingly referred to as the idiot box. I wonder if the person that coined that term came up with it after a night like mine. If I hate the programming that is on during the day then I was in for a real treat at 3:00am.

There is a reason some shows are relegated to the pre dawn airwaves. I imagine that scheduling programming at those hours attract less advertising dollars (not sure) so in effect, stations will not promote premium shows. Except for for repeats of popular sitcoms which a great deal of the population cannot watch in primetime because of work schedules, the rest of the airwaves are filled with minus B movies, various sport shows and what quickly became my favorite...Paid Programming.

Wow. A plethora of things I could buy to make my live worth living. Who knew?

There were so many I found if difficult to watch just one so I flipped back and forth between three. One was a Colon Cleanse product. I was far more interested in the two men talking than I was with the benefits of the product itself. As I watched the two interact. The smiles were great. They were animated and talking about regular bowel movements with about the same forced excitement as a sports commentator at a bowling tournament. The energy was so intense I imagine the product was practically selling itself. The one thing I did note was that one of them...presumably the 'inventor or developer' of the product looked like he needed a pill himself. With a jaw set real tight and sitting as straight as inhumanly possible, this guy should be the poster child for practice what you preach. He looked in great need of some relief.

This made me think of the comedian Bill Engvall's famous line "Here's Your Sign". I thought how great would it be to walk around with a bottle of these tablets and when coming across some surly person, just walk up, and while giving them one, saying "Here's your pill, have a nice day." And move on. I wish I had those 10 years ago. Man but the amount of relief I could have provided for a great many people.

The second was a CD which promised to hypnotize you so that you could "Think Your Way Thin." You mean, all I have to do to lose the 20lbs I've gained since last year is to just THINK about losing them? I mean...WOW why didn't THAT occur to me before? All this time on my bike has been wasted because, shoot, between thinking my way to faster weight loss coupled with the possibility of cleansing my innards...I'm good to go...literally.

The third was promoting the book "Debt Cures" http://www.amazon.com/Debt-Cures-They-Dont-About/dp/0979825814/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1219929883&sr=1-1 by Keven Trudeau who was surrounded by the late night panel of financial geniuses including a former playmate. Here were five beautiful women who acted more like the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders than finance experts. This is not to say these women were not intelligent, I don't know them, but from the sound of the script they were obviously reading from I wondered just who his target audience really was. But then, maybe Jamie Dimon was not available.

After about 10 minutes of flippage, I gave up and settled on watching Alton Brown's show "Good Eats" and learned the proper way of making mussels. At least in this case, I have something to show for my sleepless night.

A Fading Light

For the first time in many weeks I got out of bed in the middle of the night to close the windows in my room.

I love the idea that the temperature during the evening dips low enough that just opening windows and a ceiling fan humming above can provide all the sleeping comfort I could possibly want. Coming from NYC Summers where the humidity is typically so high that you feel like you're walking through thick soup, I am grateful that the weather here is what it is. If there is a place that physically suits me, it is this place. Even though it is still August and by the calendar there are approximately 3 weeks of Summer left, there is no doubt that Autumn is knocking on the door demanding to be let in.

As a child this time of year never bothered me. I mean, yeah, I hated to see the summer the end, but I anticipated the beginning of a new school year (I was a total geek), being with all my friends and most importantly knowing that my birthday was a mere few weeks away. Nothing compared to having a brand new 3 ring binder (some kind of blue fabric if I recall) and elastic strap untouched by a pen or pencil. The pristine appearance of either didn't make it 2 weeks. This was the 70s and backpacks for books were unheard of.

On mornings like this my mind wanders to those days and sometimes I wish I could feel the same anticipation I did back then. Today though there is a sense of melancholy. It isn't so much the coolness in the air that is creating the feeling but the stillness around me. There are certain sounds that are associated with the height of summer here. Today there are none. I don't hear a small motorized boat looking for a place to stop so its occupant can fish. The breeze doesn't carry the distant squeals and giggles of children jumping into a cool lake. Gone are the sounds of kayak paddles sweeping the water as they float by. Even the birds have retreated until later in the day.


The shorter days seem to welcome cooler temperatures which come early here and leave much later. There is a definite feel of something ending. Those things that made the summer exciting are finding a place to be saved and protected until next year.


But for now, with the changing of the seasonal guard, I will look for the grandness of Fall as it approaches, a time when the trees burst into an explosion of color just before they go dormant awaiting the symphony of whites that will blanket them until next Spring.


As I look for guidance from the changing seasons they remind me that endings and beginnings are absolutely necessary in order to make life stronger.

Be Careful What You Wish For

This morning I received an email from an old friend. She had just returned from a distant State so that her young daughter could visit with her father (my friend’s ex-husband).

For some reason, relationships (the good, the bad and the ugly), seem to be the topic of conversation with everyone around me for the past few months. Am I qualified to talk about relationships? Do I have the magic answer to the perfect one? Not by a long shot. There is first the assumption that there is a perfect one. No. I don’t believe there is and only because I don’t believe there is such a thing as ‘perfect’ anything.

The other night a friend and I were talking about past relationships and she made a comment regarding the common thread that connected all of hers. She then made a statement which stuck with me. She said “I sometimes wonder, what the next important relationship in my life, will look like.”

Sometimes it looks nothing like what you think it will.

If you believe in the idea that you will receive what you ask for (which I do), then you’ll have to go on the assumption that you can in fact design what you want in anything. The thought that you can draw to you the perfect partner and have he or she delivered in a box the color of robin’s egg blue with a pretty little white bow is somehow intoxicating. What if that were possible? Would we do it? Hell yeah. I know because I have, sort of, except for the box.

A few days ago I was searching through my desktop files for a story I wanted to work on for a writing contest. I came across something that I had written on September 6, 2006. I write a lot and I don’t normally reread my work unless I am looking for something specific. In this case the title caught my eye “My Wish List for My Ideal Partner” and I thought “What the hell is THAT about?” When I opened it, it was a copy of my horoscope (it’s a vice) for that day and it had instructed Virgos to write down a wish list (in great detail) of what we would like to find in an ideal partner (something about the stars being in the perfect place and the universe would send it…blah blah blah). After the demise of another relationship the previous year the weight of feeling like a failure in that category was settling into that uncomfortable ‘whoa is me’ mindset. So there it was a long list of things that were and still are important to me.

What knocked me for a loop was the realization that a person I know embodies all the qualities on my list. And I thought “No! No way. That is impossible.” But it wasn't As I read through the list I’d made almost 2 years ago, I could not believe what I was reading. The interesting thing was that no one I had met between then and now had even come close to fulfilling my idea of what was important and here it was staring me in the face. I will be the first to admit, it scared the hell out of me and the reason was the fact that it’s all well and good to have those ideals met, but what about the things I need to do or be? How do I measure up in order to even warrant having them? If I can’t be the best person I can (and God knows the defense mechanisms kick in at high speed so I haven’t), then who am I to even be worthy of accepting what in fact I asked for?

The only course I can take is to have an open mind and open heart (that part is hard for me) and allow this person to teach me something about myself which until this point I haven’t wanted to learn.

After all, that is what any relationship is about.

The Baggage Handler

First let me apologize for not posting. I can use the excuse that I haven't had the time, but that would be an excuse and since I do believe in owning "your shit", then I'll have to admit I've been lax.

Every time I sit at my computer, I wind up reading the papers, exchanging emails, talking to multiple friends on IM and catching up on the 'breaking' BS of what they call entertainment news.

1: I don't really care how much weight Brit has gained or lost
2: it is a way for me to avoid posting.

I have been working on another project so that has taken time away from this but I haven't written a word on that either. Its all hovering in my head. I have also found myself very deep in contemplating the next course of action. In that respect I've been mulling over an opportunity that makes no sense to anyone but me and barely that.

My friends here think I'm completely nuts and one even went as far as breaking down the economics of such a move. To his credit, he is absolutely correct and it doesn't make any sense, but having had very little to do in the past 6 weeks since I sold my store the reality of 'down time' is finally taken a toll on my mental stability. Its all well and good to contemplate your way through life but part of the balance is being productive.

I have been productive for over 30 years. I got my first job out of high school, worked my way through college and built a career in an industry I loved. I didn't stop working until July 3rd of this year which is the day I signed the contract to sell my business. So even though I dreamed for many years about "doing what I wanted" without the confines of a desk job, I realize that it isn't all that it is cracked up to be. It can get incredibly dull.

The one thing I know is that I don't want the life I had. That much I am certain of. But, how do you translate 27 years of Wall Street chaos into a normal life and is that even possible?

The other night I had a very odd dream that stayed with me for the better part of the day. Now, my dreams view more like mini epics (ask any of my friends who I relay my dreams to), but given scientific data, that is impossible.

In my dream I was going on a vacation and needed to pick up my luggage which was in a friend's basement. When I found both pieces (which I do actually own in 'real' life) I was annoyed to find that they were already heavy with clothes. I unzipped them and saw stacks of perfectly folded t-shirts. My annoyance turned in elation when I realized that they were clothes I loved and had completely forgotten about during my many moves. As I sorted through them I got excited that I recognized some of my favorites and immediately thought "Wow!! this is great! I didn't remember I had these." But, as I picked up each one, I noted that they were in fact old, some very worn and all were faded. Why I had saved them and hung on to them all these years was a question that in my dream state I asked myself.

OK. So the metaphor is a tad obvious? We talk about 'baggage' being apart of our lives and basically if you're over 7 years old...you have some.

The dream stayed with me all day but more so than what was actually happening in the dream, it was more a question of how I felt. The old stuff, the stuff that I loved, the stuff that held a special place in my life and heart no longer has any reason for being a part of my life now.

When discussing this job with my friend, he said (with what I interpreted to be hint of disgust in his voice) "Well, then maybe you should just cop out and go back to NY to the familiar and comfortable instead of breaking out, taking a risk and doing something new?" I never thought of it that way, but a part of me is very unsure of jumping into this void where the only net I'll have is the one I create. But if I trust that its time to 'throw away' the stuff that I can no longer use, then I'll have to trust that there is a reason they no longer have a place in this new life I'm building.

(Comments welcome and appreciated)

Things Aren't Always as They Seem

There comes on time in every one's life when the decision to stop personalizing the actions of others declares them free to live a life on their own terms and not for anyone else's benefit.

Eleanore Roosevelt was quoted to have said "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."

Anyone who is familiar with that statement will immediately nod and agree because those words hit upon the very core of our existence. But no matter how much impact they have, they are extremely difficult to live by. To be able to draw upon our own reserve of self confidence and self esteem especially when we are in the midst of navigating through a minefield of emotional quagmires, requires a conscious effort.

We show the world a fraction of who we are. We probably show ourselves even less. One of the most difficult things to accept are the flaws that make us unique. Sometimes they are manifested in a manner that is apparent to everyone even though we think we hide it well. We do this not to protect ourselves from others, but foremost to protect ourselves from ourselves.

We can only judge those around us by our own individual frame of reference which is in and of itself entirely selfish. Then we gravitate to people who think like we do thereby solidifying our position of 'rightness.' High school probably comes to mind but its been a normal occurrence from the moment we began socializing as young children. Not stepping outside of the people in our comfort zone, keeps us safe.

I'm the type of person who gravitates to people of very different personalities. I am always stepping outside of my comfort zone and thereby draw criticism. I admire strong men and women. I relate to them, because I am one of them but that does not mean I think like they do. But most importantly, I respect the personalities of all. They are who they are and they fit in my life for certain reasons. To reinforce my opinions is not one of them.

Most of the time those reasons won't be evident until much later. If I focus too long on trying to figure them out now, I will miss the beauty of letting them unfold to where they will naturally go and learning what I am supposed learn. If I fight it then I am not seeing the lesson because I'm too busy protecting me. In that respect I don't control situations around me, I observe them and only control how I react.

To the outside world my choice of friends might result in a little head scratching on the behalf of the observer. But if they were to see all my friends and I mean every one of them in one room, they would find the most eclectic group of people they would ever hope to meet. Most of them only know each other through me. All wonderfully real, all very different and all feed a unique part of who I am. Its almost like taking every course you've ever taken in school all at the same time.

When we are confronted with situations which rock our little stable worlds, our normal response is to react and react immediately. It is purely a defense mechanism going back to protect ourselves against anyone who draws out our base insecurities. We hate that. We feel we must take control now. But what happens if we don't? What happens if we are so secure in who we are that we just let things go? Amazing things actually. I might be questioned as to why I don't react to situations where most would. I say that there will always be a time to address such things and sometimes it best to let that time come to me rather than me forcing a resolution. I find it better to just watch things unfold and let annoyances die their own death because in the end they always do and usually far better than any outcome I could have orchestrated.

We can only do this if we truly believe in what Mrs. Roosevelt said. Most of the time, we let other's opinions of who we are and how we are supposed to act and react interfere with what we believe to be true about ourselves. I would rather watch from afar and marvel at the uniqueness of people and how they fill my world. As I walk my own path through life, I never forget for one moment that those around me are walking their own. They have their own ways of reacting to what they are confronted with on a daily basis and just because I may have an opinion....doesn't make me right.

For Whom the Cell Tolls

On Monday I was fairly certain that my week would be uneventful and quiet especially since my three and a half year old niece was to go home the next day.

The extent of Auntie's 'maternal' instincts are confined to the well being of Zia. The care of a small human is entirely different than the care of a small dog . Society has an issue if you leave them unattended for more than thirty seconds. I'm still trying to catch up on my sleep. Its amazing how a child who is less than three feet tall and weighs about thirty five pounds soaking wet can commandeer a queen size bed leaving me to hover on a mere five inches on the edge, not to mention tiny foot prints which have been permanently imprinted in my lower back. I haven't had such dark circles in months.

Save for some last minute volunteer work I'm doing for my town's Annual Zucchini Festival http://www.yourplaceinvermont.com/ there should have been very little going on. Although, given a solar eclipse (I think) back in the early part of the month, I should have known better. Forewarned, the horoscope said, is better than forearmed. No matter. I approached each day basically holding my breath for that 'other' shoe to fall. And fall they have. In sizes 0 to 12.

Everything from little annoyances to major and serious issues. The minor stuff is stressful and just a pain in the ass. That is the stuff that make you want to stick your head in a bag and scream. But all of that goes away when you get news that someone your age, who you've known since you were five, died after been diagnosed with a serious illness just a couple of months ago.

That is the stuff that makes the nonsense you can control look like child's play. As I said to a friend yesterday, your health is the only thing that matters in the long run, everything else can be changed. Once your health is in question, all else takes a back seat to reality. It doesn't make the other stuff unimportant. After all one has responsibilities to address, but lose your health and everything else falls into its proper perspective.

So, as I was rehashing all the annoyances of this week with my dinner companion, I watched my cell phone slip out of my handbag, bounce onto the table and into the lake where we were sitting.

Adding that to the ever growing to-do list, I realized that even though I had to rearrange my entire schedule today to fit in the trip to Verizon, it was just a small inconvenience which will go away once I pick out my new phone.

Hopefully my biggest decision today with be the color. Maybe I'll get one in pink...given I'm such a pink kinda gal.

A Change in Vantage Point

Where is it written that life is supposed to be perfect? Because if such a writing exists, I for one, would like to read it for myself and frame it so that I would be able to refer to it on a daily basis.

I gave up long ago wishing for perfection. As is the case, I live life day to day and deal with everything that comes my way...on its own merit. There really is no other way to do it. There are days that are truly terrific on every level. Almost as though the planets and stars align so that everything functions seamlessly. Then there are other days where no matter what I do, where I go or who I talk to, its an endless battle of futility. On those days I realize I should have checked my horoscope before I even got out of bed.

Everything we are bombarded with exploits the idea of the perfect life in such a way that if we aren't one of the seemingly lucky few who have plenty of money, the perfect career, the perfect mate, great health...etc, then there is something seriously wrong with us. If that is the case, then I am just this side of a lost cause.

Looking back on the past many years, from the outside it would seem like my life was perfect. It was far from it. My struggles and fears were (are) no different from anyone else's. As I watched my life as I knew it, unravel, it took a toll no matter what anyone thinks. The reality is we can't undo the past. Every choice we make brings us to where we are now so that we can only go forward from this point.

One of my favorite quotes is "We can't solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them." - Albert Einstein.

Rehashing what doesn't work, doesn't provide an answer for what does. Accepting that everything that comes our way, is our own self prophecy, should make us take some responsibility for where we find ourselves. If we are constantly harping on the stuff that doesn't work, then we are stuck in that endless cycle. If something doesn't work, it most likely doesn't work for a valid reason. The key is to acknowledge the reason. Forcing it to try to make it work, no more makes that happen than slapping wings on a pig and expecting it to fly.

So instead of focusing on what is not as seamless as I'd like, I'd rather change how I approach it. Only then, can I be objective enough to make the adjustments that will in fact bring me closer to that media influenced life of pure bliss.

An Anniversary of Sorts

Last August, I began an eight week sabbatical. I had booked a bike ride along the Oregon Coast's 350+ miles, with a company called Cycling Escapes http://cyclingescapes.com/ (little plug there). After 30 years of working non-stop, with 27 of them on Wall Street, to say I was burned out would have been an understatement of colossal proportions. I used this bike trip as the foundation for some much desired and needed time away from everything.

Little did I know that as a result of my hiatus, how I was about to react to one of the most cataclysmic course changes of my entire life would be surprising, even to me.

For the past several years I had been increasingly dissatisfied in my career, but like most people voluntary change is not appealing for a myriad of reasons. Responsibilities are endless. Financial, familial, social…etc. There is a theory that when you reach a higher level of awareness, all the things in your life that no longer suit you, spit you out.

On December 7th, the world as I had built it for myself came to an abrupt end. With the unexpected exodus of our firm’s single largest client, I finally got my wish. I was free. I think I had a mini breakdown that night when it all hit home. I cried for what seemed like hours (probably not more than 30 minutes) but whether that was induced by the second bottle of wine, feeling sorry for myself, or realizing that I was no longer going to be a part of an amazingly talented group of people, I’m not sure. Somewhere buried in there was the fact that I was relieved I did not have to make the choice to leave and that circumstances beyond my control were making that decision for me. It was scary as hell.

I’d wanted to walk away from the business for many years prior and the perfect opportunity had now presented itself. My friends thought I was crazy. I was ill prepared for this type of change. I’m nowhere near retirement age but then it dawned on me, if I want to do what I really love, then I couldn’t be stuck in an industry I’d come to detest.

It has not been easy. The adjustments have been huge on many levels. As much as I miss the people I love, my family, my unbelievable friends, my cerebral soulmate (who continues to inspire me), I know they are but a phone call, IM or text message away.

I am extremely fortunate to have met and become acquainted with some extraordinary people here as well. Everyone, from this saint of a man, who humors me when I want to play pool, (he has endless patience because I so totally suck. The idea of physics is lost on me) to anyone else I see on a continuous basis, make this town a truly wonderful place to be. Sure there are ups and downs. I don’t let people into my life easily and get ridiculously defensive when I feel my personal space is being violated, but that’s just me. It is hard to undo 47 years behavior. But I’m trying.

So as I become more immersed in this new life, I know the time is approaching to take that next step. I always felt I would know what it would be when the time was right, I just had to be patient

The patience is paying off.

PS: I’ve been up since 1:30am so if this post is a tad more introspective than most…well then…that’s what happens when you are wide awake in the middle of the night.

Old Dogs

Hey!! The sun is shining this morning. A friend told me it has rained every day since July 18th. I haven't checked to see if that is accurate, but if it isn't, its close enough. It has rained a portion of every day for quite a while now and makes it hard to plan an outdoor day.

Most of the time that doesn't much faze me as I can change my schedule on a whim, but this week I have my 3 1/2 year old niece with me for what we call a 'girl's weekend'. She is as well behaved as a curious small child can be. She's articulate and pretty funny. (signs of Auntie abound).

Having a child underfoot (literally as she is currently under my desk trying to catch my dog, who does NOT want to be caught) is a interesting experience. She informs me on an hourly basis of how she is planning on playing (read torturing) Zia.

"Zia and I are playing tag." (Zia hasn't master the 'you're it' part).

"Zia and I are playing catch." (wherein she will throw a ball which will either hit me, the ceiling or the TV and thankfully miss the dog)

"I'm feeding Zia."... at which point I had to explain that dogs do not eat with spoons.

I've had to tell her a number of times that even though Zia is tiny, she is an older dog. (One who isn't used to children tormenting her).

Zia has taken to hiding in my bedroom on her own bed. When she hears footsteps she runs under my bed. She is so small she has several inches of clearance and is impossible to fish out though my niece will try. Yesterday, my niece was determined to get the dog and she went upstairs to 'see' what the dog was doing. I waited by the steps and watched as she attempted to carry the dog down the stairs. I had to save them both. My niece from possibly losing her balance, and my dog from being road kill in my house. I've checked her ribs for possible fractures and so far we are good. No unnecessary trips to the vet in my future.

My niece can't quite figure out why the dog will not come to her willingly. I've had to sit with her and explain that the dog does not trust that she won't be hurt. She is now trying to attract the dog with gentle petting. It seems to be working.

Maybe I have something to learn from this.

My Yin & Yang Ratio is Off

Like the equivalent of an emotional mullet, it has become increasing apparent to me that my Yin/Yang balance is...well...unbalanced.

I'm all business in the front (Yang) and very little party in the back (Yin). For those of you who are not familiar with the Chinese theory of opposing forces, in a nutshell it is what is considered the balance of feminine (Yin)/masculine (Yang) energies...which by the way...has NOTHING to do with the male or female gender. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yin_and_yang

A few years ago, while dining with a relatively new friend (at the time) we were talking about life views and the like and he said to me "You are the strongest person I've ever met." Now, mind you, coming from a man who I thought was far stronger than I, I was not exactly thrilled by the comment. It hit me in a very negative way and I think I took offense though obviously he was not talking brute strength for I'm sure he could have pinned me in 3.2 seconds.

OK. I'm learning to accept the fact that I am a strong person and as I come to better know who I really am, I am FINALLY understanding why I attract a certain type of individual (male) into my life.

When a pattern gets repetitive, as in the dynamics of negative relationships, there are twos ways to think about it.

1- I'm just unlucky in that department
or
2-What is it that I am doing that creates an attraction to a tumultuous relationship?

After the demise of a particularly stressful one recently (totally unbalanced...as in WAY too much yang), I had to really stop and think about why this was happening yet again. The pattern (as pointed out by a friend) was the same.

As a strong female, I tend to attract incredibly strong male counterparts which I admire and respect. If that was all there was to it, then there would be no problem. But, that is not the case. The added issues are (and herein lies the pattern) that almost every relationship I've had the man has had some serious issues with some form of addiction and his Mother. It took this last go round to figure that out. Lets face it, in a romantic relationship that last thing I want to be viewed as is my lover's archetypal mother.

It is far easier to look at this stuff at face value when there is little emotional investment. When you leave the component of expectations out of it and accept people for who they are, the relationship will either survive or die on its own with little help. The only time an unhealthy relationship outlives its usefulness is when the parties involved refuse to accept that there is something they are doing that is creating the drama. Everything we do, everyone we interact with is a deliberate choice in how we want to live.

Instead of trying to 'fix' this situation, I just viewed it from the vantage point of an observer with no judgements. Just curiosity. I took my own ego and pride out of the equation. As a result, the destruction was immediate with no help from me. It was actually quite refreshing. The relationship spit itself out because it was not in the interest of my higher good..or his for that matter. Whatever it was he thought he needed was not coming from me. He will find his way when he is ready.

Now that I realize my Yin is way off I know what it will take to find the ideal balance and not waste time with those who throw me off kilter.

Back in the Saddle Again...

I am driving to the City today to join some friends for dinner.

Hopefully an interesting post will come out of it.

Did Ya Hear.....???

Personalities that exist in a large city, exist here as well.

The difference is that because of the smaller pool of individuals...the personalities seem more concentrated. I know the same types of people I knew back in NYC. The artistic type. The holistic type. The business type. The party type...I could go on forever but you get the idea. When you are like me and gravitate towards everyone of those personalities at any given time, you get a real feel for the makeup of a place and you find out that people are people no matter where you are. They have the same securities and insecurities here as well as there.

Living in a small town has some interesting conditions to navigate. For one thing people seem to know more about your life than you do and those assumptions are made mainly from hearsay. Its the one thing that stands uniform. The ability for people to talk and express opinions and judgements about what others are doing whether or not they are fact. Just because they don't actually see or hear something from me directly, doesn't mean in their eyes that the information is not true.

How is that possible? Well, I'm really not sure, but sometimes I will be asked a question about something I'm supposedly doing and am truly at a loss for an answer because I have no idea what they are talking about. That does not mean that there isn't an answer. It just means I don't have one but an answer will surely materialize whether or not the words are uttered directly from my vocal cords. So, I rest easy knowing that there is plenty of fodder to keep people (as well as me) informed.

As you are well aware by now, I hang out in one of the two local pubs in town. I'm not much of a drinker...most of you know that. But because it is such a small place, after many months I know almost everyone that hangs there too and its become a comfortable place to just be. Kind of like hanging out at a friend's house only with an endless supply of Miller Lite.

Early on I made it a point to not date anyone I met there. At the time my reasons were that it wouldn't be fair to get involved with someone if I knew I would be leaving Vermont in a few weeks. But now that its become apparent that I am not going anywhere for a while, I don't regret my decision because unlike the city...there is really nowhere to hide. (OK Mark...NOW do you get it?)

I'll walk into the pub on any given evening and come face to face with someone who I could have dated. Sometimes there are more than three of them present. Yeah, imagine that. What would they do? Compare notes? "What did she wear when she was with you?" "Did she wear that lace thingy?"

I mean really. Its bad enough that people talk about the life they think I lead, but do I want them talking about the life I do lead? Ah....no.

Because I tend not to be available. There have been a number of choice adjectives to describe me. Snob, overbearing (moi?), on my 'high horse', and best of all, a lesbian. Now, no offense to snobs, people who are overbearing, equestrians or lesbians. But one night, after I turned down an dinner invitation from a guy who I've come to know over the past few months, he actually said "No? what are you a lesbian or something?"

Yeah, I'm a something. A something that doesn't want to watch your face chew...anything.

So I've been given, titles, events, labels etc. It is quite comical really. Each person knows only a fraction of what I do so they tend to fill in the blanks.

Funny thing is I am entirely disinterested in what they do because I have my hands full keeping up with finding out what is going on in my own life.

PS: I've adjusted the comment field so that anyone should be able to comment without having to subscribe to Google.

Stop Me Before I Make Sauce

I have reached a new level of procrastination. I know, I know, everyone thinks I just do everything I say at the time I say it. Well yes, I eventually do (eventually is my new favorite word and you'll be seeing a lot of it) what I say...but not necessarily when I say it.

"Do or Do Not, There is No Try" - Yoda, is the way I live and maybe that is why I don't exactly go full steam ahead when doing something. The word try gives you the 'out' to fail.

A lot of thought goes into what I do and though it may seem that I am impetuous, in fact I'm not. It takes a while for me to make the commitment, but when I do its like a blur of activity and perhaps that gives the impression of impulsiveness.

But I am off on a tangent, as so often the case.

The morning is spectacular. Probably low 60's. Sun is absolutely blinding. The lake is still and the daily cacophony bird calls is the only sound I am surrounded by. My first thought upon awakening at 6:45 was "I'm going for a ride". Perfect morning for it. After all, this is why I am here in the first place.

I made my way downstairs to prepare my daily jolt of caffeine and to take care of Zia (walking and feeding). As I take the half & half out of the frig, I noted the package of ground beef on the second shelf. I'll have to do something with it today.

"Why not now?" asked the voice in my head.

As all thoughts of riding were put aside, but not too far aside, I went through my cabinets and frig and assembled on the counter, all the necessary ingredients (including freshly picked parsley) to make...meatballs.

Now, lest you think I make meatballs weekly, as does my Mom, I haven't made meatballs in...let’s see... forever. In fact I don't remember the last time I even considered making them. Further more, I would venture to say that when I bought the ground beef, the last thought on my mind was meatballs. It was probably more along the lines of hamburgers to grill. Yet, there I was at 7:15 a.m. on a Wednesday morning, elbow deep in ground beef forming little balls of delicious. I am convinced my neighbors think I've achieved a new plane of insanity...I mean...its not even Sunday.

It amazes me that I will go to many lengths to avoid doing something. I am sure I am not alone in that. But most will putter, do this and that. The gnawing thing in the back of your mind (which you shoved there) is there like a gnat that won't go away.

What is the big deal about missing a ride? Nothing really. Except until yesterday, I hadn't been on my bike in over 3 weeks and yesterday's ride was far from fun. In fact, I rode half my normal mileage and hated almost every minute of it. So instead of doing what I usually love, I would rather clean my shed this morning.

But I will....as SOON as I finish this.

Peeling Back the Layers to my Heart

There is no better way to truly get acquainted with yourself than purposely isolating from everything and everyone you hold dear. In the state of removing yourself from the familiar, you happen upon a place that is somewhere between excruciating hell and the heaven you ultimately hope to find.

Not many people do this intentionally but there are those of us who are insane enough to try. The problem with getting to know who you really are is that as you struggle through the ups and multiple downs, you aren't fully aware that what you are really doing is resetting pieces of your heart that somewhere along the line became confused by ideals which no longer serve you. For most, attempts are abandoned midway and distractions which appear behind a variety of masks are eagerly embraced.

Unlike the setting of a broken limb, setting a broken heart or spirit is undeniably complicated. For one thing there isn't anything which physically protects the injury in order to aid in the healing process. All you have is the hope and faith that you will somehow find a reservoir of internal strength you didn't even know existed.

My journey to the halfway mark has been marred by expectations I've had where I thought that once the temporary set of circumstances which kept me here changed, I would once again be free to rejoin my friends and family back home. I decided long ago that because this was temporary, there was no point in me establishing a life when I knew I would be leaving eventually. The problem with eventually is that it does not define a time table, so the end result is a life half lived because of commitments unwilling to be made with the excuse of not wanting to disappoint or hurt others. That thought, tucked in the recesses of my brain, has acted like an invisible yet solid barrier to all I could consider committing to here. Even though, on close inspection, the circumstances are completely self imposed.

Until last week, I had not returned to the City for any considerable length of time. I finally got 'outta dodge' and back to a world and energy that I so loved and desperately longed for. The City has always been a beacon for me and the distance and exile have made the yearning sweeter still. The holy grail of a life well lived.

It is amazing that you can communicate with people twenty four hours a day by any electronic method and still break out into the widest smile when you see them them enter a room. While sitting in a popular midtown restaurant with people I love and dearly miss, I was surprised by a certain feeling. As I looked at the smiling faces around me I realized what I truly desired was not found in that place. You can be surrounded by everything familiar and everyone you love and still have a sense of loneliness which can be crushing. I loved the idea of sharing meals, and wine and most importantly the endless laughter and face splitting smiles. But, at the end, there was one thing which didn't make sense to me. Here I was, back where I longed to be, and somehow I felt I was missing something vital. There was a lack of contentment just shy of being absurd. I realized then that almost everything I wanted was not found in that there.

For the first time in my life I really understood the phrase "Home is Where the Heart is."

I am back in Vermont now and the pressure is off as to whether or not I am here temporarily. It doesn't much matter. As long as I let go of the idea of protecting my heart from unseen hiccups in the the road, I will no longer view this as an unwelcome detour but as part of the journey which would lead me somewhere I've always wanted to be. And that somewhere is where I am now. At peace with myself.

I'll Take My Life with Pulp Please

After the first full night's sleep in many days I awakened to a blinding sun and bird calls riding on a breeze. I no longer have the need to set an alarm and fully appreciate the luxury of waking up when my body is ready. Usually a very early riser, this morning my body was telling me to catch up on much needed sleep.

I went down and puttered around the kitchen preparing breakfast. With the ritual of coffee making behind me, my eyes caught sight of three oranges on the counter which I bought the other day in order to make a fennel and orange salad. The fennel is long gone and as I stared at these oranges I noted that if not consumed soon would certainly wind up in the trash.

Orange juice. Of course. Why not? I mean, how country can you get?

I went in search of a hand juicer I knew I had, you know, one like your grandmother probably used and found it in the far depths of my small appliance drawer. I thus proceeded to 'make' orange juice. 'Making' orange juice is a misnomer because what you really do is extract the liquid from the fruit. The one I have is set on a strainer in order to capture the pulp. As I twisted my way through two oranges the volume of pulp increased. There, I had juice. Really sweet juice, but I also had these little bits of orange that are usually discarded.

It took me a second, but I realized that 'hey, I like the pulp.' I wasn't going to toss it. So back in went into my glass joining the crushed ice and liquid.

As a woman, I've probably been conditioned (maybe by images in society) to want a perfectly clean life. Nice home, nice car. Perfect guy who brings home flowers and takes me dancing. The model of what we all deep down inside are supposed to expect. Guys on the other hand, are bombarded with photos and ads of wreck less abandon. They get to have the pulp. Its OK for them to experience the bits and pieces that don't make it perfect.

We are supposed to strain it.

But I like pulp. It makes the juice sweeter. I didn't like what the clear liquid in the glass was telling me. Have I always taken the best parts out in order to leave behind the flavor but not experience the substance? That must the case because in the past few weeks I've been experiencing a lot of pulp. The controlled of part of me wants to make this perfect for my comfort zone. But in this case, I can't and I know it. Yet I'm unwilling to discard the bits that don't fit in with my image of perfect.

I have no desire to extract the undesirable pieces out of my life. They are the things that make it rich. Otherwise there would be no depth to anything I do. I do not want to experience just the pretty and unblemished, there is no point in that. The pulp is what makes my life interesting to me. The more I don't discard it, the more I realize that my life is meant to be lived in the multi dimensional world I actually exist in, instead of some cleaned up version that can only be a facade to how I want to live.

More Focus Please

Life has taken on an interesting dynamic of late. For many years I had an idea of my future simply from understanding where I was at any given moment. It would stand to reason that if a path was followed in a particular way, then the outcome would most likely be what I thought it would be.

But in the past six months, there has been no understanding of where I was at any given moment. Those who know me well can attest to the fact that my mind has changed with every passing day. The joke has been, 'Well, today is (insert day) we'll see where you are tomorrow". The implication was that I could not or would not focus on one thing.

For me, it wasn't the idea that I had no focus but more the idea that every choice led to a path I wanted desperately to walk and so I tried each one on for size. Its like being a kid in a candy store. So much. So much choice. How could I possibly choose just one? Its been fun. Its been exciting and its been very exhausting. I've had to let go of the person who held a rigid view of what must be done in favor of the person who allowed things to unfold in due time. It is far easier said than done, but so far an extremely rewarding experience.

I've been berating myself for having such a complete and total lack of commitment to anything. But I understand that it is a necessary approach. When I was younger, it was far easier to walk away from something that didn't speak to some higher part of myself (though I didn't know it at the time) and yet, I as grew older, that very same attribute became a cause for concern. Did I walk away because there was something better out there or, more importantly, because it did not speak to my core?

As I try new experiences to see how they fit, I am finding that there are elements of each that truly speak to who I am. I love discovering that about me. I've not walked away from much, mainly just in my head because I have an issue with people who fall through on their commitments. If I commit to something, I do it. If it doesn't work, for any number of reasons, then I find a way to extricate myself without it being a problem for another. This works pretty well, except of course in a relationship, that one is far more difficult, but not impossible.

There is so much more I want to do and experience but I am becoming aware that the reason for the lack of commitment to any one thing is because there is a lack of focus to any one thing. My biggest concern has been whether or not something or someone is right for me because I don’t want to make a mistake. But I am learning that there are no mistakes. There is no right or wrong therefore it doesn't really matter. There is only how I feel about something and that lets me know whether or not I want to focus on it.

The one constant in my life, regardless of the many things I've been involved with, is my writing. That has been my driver. That is where my heart is. Everything else I do, I do because I love the idea of meeting new people, having completely different and foreign experiences and knowing that each one of them is allowing me to have a better understanding of how I relate to my world. I’ve come away from these experiences knowing myself a little bit better. This allows me to be comfortable with who I am and will eventually lead to a more focused path where I can put most of my energy in continuing to create a life I am truly enjoying.

The Chipmucks Are Running Amuck

My mornings here begin pretty much the same as most mornings will when you have a routine.

I walk my dog, a 4lb 13oz Yorkie named Zia, whom I love to pieces. Being a ratter by breed, Zia preference for the outdoors is less a call of nature than the possiblity of chasing chipmunks into New Hampshire. For a number of reasons, I don't let her out without being secured by a leash. Following her instincts she could disappear for hours on a quest for her holy grail.

Chipmunk stew.

Zia is 9 now, but as a pup, I learned very quickly that you do not leave a tiny dog unattended outside in Vermont. The summer she was 2, she vanished into the foliage for over 3 hours (undoubtedly to chase a chipmunk) just as I was about to head back home to NYC. Heart racing over the fact that I'd lost her, I choked back tears at the thought that I might have to abandon her to the woods, or worst yet, her fate on Rte 100.

Out of desperation I rattled a box of Pepperidge Farm Goldfish (her favorite treat at the time) up an down my road. That did the trick. It turned out she was just a few yards away but because of her coloring she blended with her surroundings. She was so engrossed in the smells found in the woods that I ceased to exist. (She now has a bell on her harness so that if I can't see her, at least I can hear where she is).

Chipmunks run around my property like tiny blurs streaking across the patio. They will come up to my sliding doors and stand on the top step and squeak. Zia goes berserk. She will stand there for hours and bark out of frustration that she cannot get at her prize on the other side of the screen door, a mere foot away.

This morning I wondered whether I was protecting the chipmunks or her. I don't relish seeing chipmunk guts on my pavers, and though it is her instinct to try, I don't believe for one minute she'd ever actually catch one. I am really protecting her and that can only be done if I take away her ability to do what she was born to do.

How many times do we not allow someone to follow their instinct in the name of protection? We do that with children so that they will learn enough to function without us. But what about as adults? How often do we ask, or demand that someone not be who they are? Are we protecting them or the relationship?

When we are involved with someone who is vastly different from who we are, we have a tendency to try to change them in order to have them fit with how we live thereby 'protecting' our existence. Most of the time it isn't even obvious, but since we think our way is better, it stands to reason that we will subtly and sometimes unknowingly try to influence the behavior of another. It is usually reinforced, not by what we 'allow' them to do (because we are so understanding), but what we suggest they 'don't'.

The true courage of love is our ability to allow a person to be who and what they are without judgement. Our need to protect ourselves cannot be a part of it. Only when we allow another their mistakes can we be free to make the decision as to whether or not a relationship can grow. Unlike a 4lb dog, emotionally or spiritually tethering someone for our own purposes will destroy their core.

The chipmunks in our lives appear continuously and in varied ways. Only the individual can determine whether they are worth chasing.

A Twist in the Road

I never thought to use this blog to make announcements about what is really going on in my life. As I continue on my journey, both spiritual and otherwise, the decisions that are being required of me seem to have an outcome far different than that which I anticipated.

What got me here? Well, for starters the many decisions that I've made to this point. The most interesting thing I've found is that my choices to end or initiate events in my life, are taking on a life of their own.

The quickest way between 2 points is not necessarily a straight line. Sometime the detour takes you so far off course that you begin to believe you've lost your way. But here is the underlying truth. The adventure can only begin when you've veered off your course.

The past year has been a year of endings for me and with each one, there has been zero remorse. Some confusion...OK, a lot of confusion (left brain syndrome at work) but zero remorse.

One of those endings occurred on Thursday, July 3rd. I closed on the sale of my beloved bookstore. I thought I'd have mixed feelings about it given that I built it from my heart but the truth is...as with every relationship...if it cannot grow, it will die.

I chose to let it go because I knew that I could not take it to the next level in order for it to flourish to its full potential. It is now in the hands of a fabulous couple who will love it and nurture it as I have since inception. Again, because of who has chosen to committ themselves, I can, as any proud parent would, let it go because it was time.

Zero remorse.

This leads to the next chapter of my life which is still being written. A friend who owns the pub I frequent (not much else to do around here) was concerned that now I would have way too much time on my hands. She asked me if I would consider bartending one night a week. I know NOTHING about the bar biz except which stool to sit on when ordering my beer so the idea that I would be suited to do this was ridiculous. I was urged to give it a shot...I look at it as keeping me off the streets one night a week.

Since I am a very social person and love the idea of being around people and the party atmosphere I thought...Well, Why not? It might be fun.

So last night was training day one. I got the beer bottles opened pretty quickly. I still can't pour a draft beer without 4" of foam...but that is not bad given that it was 6" the first time. Maybe by the end of tonight I'll get it down the perferable 3/4". Time will tell.

It was a lot of fun. It was INSANELY hard work. Hey you guys...tip your barkeeps well, because you have NO idea what goes on behind the bar to make it function seamlessly. I was probably more in the way than helpful at the beginning of the evening..but that did change as the night progressed. To say I was overwhelmed would be the understatement of the year. This is trial by fire...there is no other way. As in my old career, you can only learn as you do and the mistakes are the most valuable lessons.

So here I find myself, with a completely unexpected turn in the road which I have taken just to see where it leads. Sometimes its best to leave the GPS at home.

What's Love Got To Do With It?

There are times in our lives when we meet people who for whatever reason affect us in such a way that we almost don't recognize ourselves. For the first time we look, not at what we are, but at what we can be, and we want to be more. These people bring out something in us that not only make us want to reach for the stars, but know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we can.

A few days ago I was having a conversation with a friend which I will admit began bordering on a disagreement regarding the perception of a comment I had made. While trying to make his point about the perceived inconsiderate behavior on my part, he said:

"Don't you get it? YOU inspire me and have for as long as I've known you. You make me want to be a better person."

Normally a comment like this would have humbled me in that someone felt this way about knowing me. It would have left me with a smile and warm glow. But in this particular case the comment stopped me cold. At that moment I felt cheated. It was all well and good that I inspired someone, but all the selfish part of me could think of was..."Well, what about me? WHO is supposed to be inspiring me?"

Since that night I'd been writing this post in my head tossing about the idea of what role inspiration plays in a relationship. Any relationship. In the hierarchy of important elements, where does it stack up? It is just below love? Above respect or security? The same level as commitment?

If I put a value on where inspiration falls on my list of 'must haves' for me it would most certainly be near the top if not number one. I think I would even sacrifice love to second or third place. It has become apparent to me that if I am not inspired by something or someone, I lose interest. Inspiration is the driving force behind everything I do and to what degree I put my heart and soul into it.

I look at inspiration as something crucial for the well being and longevity of any relationship. When people inspire one another the most amazing things happen. Though, it cannot be one sided. If it is, then the relationship will suffer. We all want to be around people that make us want to be the best we can. Not because we are trying to impress them, but because there is an energy that we draw from them that is empowering and gives us the feeling that we can achieve greatness.

We can be inspired by many things, but when we are inspired by another human being we can conquer the world. Some might mistake inspiration for love though it is very possible to have one without the other. It doesn't diminish either, for they can both stand on their own. Perhaps when dealing with life's frustrations we can look at who we are truly inspired by and in turn who we inspire. If we think about relationships which may be difficult perhaps that is the element which is lacking.


There have been a handful of people who have come into my world who changed the course of my life whether they knew it or not. Each person set me on a road which put me on a higher level. It was almost as though the first set the foundation for the second and so on.

I will not stress the conversation I had with my friend, because it made me realize something I had completely forgotten. Knowing that in the future, when I am ready, I will come across another who will inspire me to my next level is exciting because I can't wait to see which road I will take from there.

This post is dedicated to BC who will never know how profoundly he impacted the course of my life.

The Secret Life of Thoughts

Recently, a friend posed a question that in its simplicity was actually quite difficult to answer.

"How do you change your thoughts so that they are always positive?"

God but I truly wish I had the answer to that one. If I could tell people how to do it without fail, then package and market it...well, the sky would be the limit.

Most of us have heard of "The Secret" by Rhonda Bryne. Many of us have read it. What is it about that little book that has become so powerful? There was nothing about its concepts that were new. Countless people and most philosophers have been talking about them for centuries. Yet for some reason, this book hit a chord with millions of people worldwide. The packaging and marketing was in my opinion brilliant. With pages which resembled old parchment and script that was made to look like a plume had been used, it took on the mystery of ancient manuscript. It gave one the sense that they had found a treasure.

Yet, what did the book actually promote? To me, the book promoted the idea that people can truly change their lives if they wanted to. It sold the masses a sense of hope.

While we address our normal everyday existence, where one hour bleeds into the next, it is very easy to lose sight of what makes us happy. Our world becomes focused on the external and the next thing we need to do or get. We are mired in the day to day challenges of career and family which take an enormous amount of energy just to make it through. Its no wonder we find that though the concepts are appealing, they can be difficult to put into practice.

Changing the pattern in which we think is not something that happens overnight. It can only begin by first being aware that thought process itself is negative. But what about the thought itself, is it that makes it negative? Well, for one thing, if a thought's residual affect is oppressive, then perhaps one needs to look at why? We have all been around people who are so negative that it is painful to have a conversation with them. Everything, from their posture to the manner in which they speak screams heaviness. But the truth is they themselves don't see it. They have become so accustomed to how they express themselves that they are comfortable within their own armour.

I am not suggesting that everyone can be positive all the time. After all, there are unexpected things that happen and daily frustrations in which we give ourselves permission to wallow in self pity. The difference is catching ourselves when it happens. The more we become aware of those moments and dismiss them, the quicker they disappear til at some point they cease to exist altogether, unless something that is truly wrong requires our attention.

But how does one stay positive while dealing with the stresses of daily life?

The fact that the question would even be asked, in my opinion tells me that they are finally aware that there is a change they would like to make in how they perceive their life. They have taken the first step. It is only a matter of time before they come to trust themselves and realize that only they have the power to understand how their thoughts create the life they live.

Life is Not a Sitcom

I'm beginning to think that one of my greatest problems in life is that I do not watch much TV. If I did, I would watch circumstances unfold in the lives of the characters and know exactly how to handle them in my own life.

For many years, I did not even have a television in my lake house and that was an anathema to anyone who knew me. "WHAT? You don't HAVE a TV in Vermont? But, WHAT do you do when you're there? Don't you get bored???" I'm not certain what they envisioned when they thought of me here, but my guess is that the central theme consisted of me sitting in front of a blazing fire and staring...at nothing. The concept that I might actually be taking part in life was not something they were grounded in. The word bored is not found in my vocabulary.

Over the past few years TV shows have migrated to the concept of reality TV. What is that? Reality TV? Its almost an oxymoron. Is it real people doing things that we could do but don't so we'd rather watch them? The only thing I consider reality TV is the news and even that is tailored to appeal to the masses. Now I am not saying that I never watch TV. There are one or two shows I will watch if I stumble upon them, but that is akin to the stars aligning in the heavens. I have no idea when they are on, so its a matter of turning on the TV, on the right day, at the exact hour. See? The cosmos at work, but that is truly a rare occurrence.

My reality is that I am not a beneficiary of the simple solutions presented in a half hour program. I will therefore be destined to a life of making mistakes I would have avoided if I had watched episode 56 of the most popular show.

The only thing I can do is go along each day and have faith that the answers are there and I am only to be aware of them. Every set of circumstances that appear in my life create an opportunity to see what I'm made of. The jury is still out on that, but I do know that if I want to fixate on the fictional lives of people that don't exist, I'd rather read a book.

I view life as finite. If I do spend my time glued to a chair in my living room, what will I have to tell whomever is manning the Pearly Gates when I am asked... "What did you do with your life?" Well, I may not have changed the world to any significance, but I will report having seen the most amazing sunrise.

Next

They say the true key to happiness is not in having what you want, but rather in wanting what you have. The concept is true on almost every level, but I say almost because most of us want something other or perhaps more than what we already have but been trained to believe that its the result of a lack of maturity.

This is not about changing something in our lives that isn't working and by default not bringing out the best in us, this is about bringing in another layer to enhance where we are now.

If you are a Type A personality, which I have been accused of, (I know, I know you're shocked) the the issue isn't really wanting something else, its more like..."OK, been there, done that. What's next?" It is not necessarily a situation where there is a loss of interest in the current set of circumstances or feeling that there is lack of some sort. After all, there is a huge difference between wanting to experience something more and feeling like you are missing out. One gives you the incentive to try the unknown and the other depletes your energy. This is more like wanting the excitement you get when you are experiencing something new. The thrill of the hunt and the hunted, if you will.

What is wrong with that? Nothing.

Almost all of us have those moments where we are about to embark on something that gives us that little, almost undetectable boost in attitude. At least undetectable to us. Everyone else could feel it before we even enter a room. There is something in our energy level which changes and not only is it contagious, it is addictive. Who doesn't want to feel like that all the time?

There will be people who will scoff at the idea that it is OK to continuously want something more or different. They will accuse us of never being content. Those of us who spend time focusing on what else we want to have or do, can be made to feel guilty and really believe there might be something wrong because we are not conforming to the expectations of the majority because we are craving the next experience.

What if we come to accept that part of us which does want more? How liberating would it be to not deal with that underlying guilt? This is not about moral issues, we do have a responsibility to the people we care about, but we also have a responsibility not to be made to suffer because we are afraid to come face to face with what really drives us at our core.

Perhaps the true key to happiness is giving ourselves the permission to be accepting of the fact that we are not willing to be content with things as they are. It is perfectly OK to take steps to add another dimension into our lives. But in this regard, in order to fully experience the excitement of getting what we want , we must be content with what we already have.

Temporary Insanity

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of enjoying a wonderful meal in an absolutely exquisite setting. I went to this place several weeks ago and looked forward to returning. Dining lake side and watching a beautiful sunset was nothing compared to the food which could rival some of the finest restaurants in any city.

During whatever the normal conversation is between people who have known each other for years, but not really know one another all that well, we started the game of "OK. we get to ask each other one question, whatever we want, and it has to be answered honestly."

Simple right? Maybe. I dreaded the moment I had to answer because I was certain it would have something to do with some old relationship, possible strange proclivity or some other equally disturbing bit of information that I might have to divulge. There truly needs to be some level of trust when you play a silly game like this.

And then it came. The worst question I could possibly have been asked.

"What do you want?"

It wasn't about the menu choices, or what I did or did not expect for the outcome of the evening. But the question was about my life and what I wanted out of that. Funny, I've been asking myself that question for years and here someone put a voice to it so instead of letting it scurry back into the recesses of my brain where I didn't really have to acknowledge it, I was being forced to drag the thoughts out and put words to them. After all I had given my word that I would answer any question honestly. Those who know me, know that when I give my word, it is golden. No exceptions.

My answer..."I don't know".

For many years I knew exactly what I wanted and got almost all of it including the blank canvas I have now. I get to fill it any which way I want. Maybe too many options are worse than not enough. But I do know that there seems to be two reoccurring thoughts which are gaining momentum and until that moment, I hadn't given them much notice.

It was far from the zen moment you would think it was. That moment of enlightenment when life is crystal clear. No, it was just the frightening concept that I was voicing something I was fearful of not achieving.

I've been viewing this experience as temporary as it has strayed so far from the life I lived and knew that at some point I'd be tired of this and would get back to my 'real' life. Then the thought hit me, this is my real life. If you step back and look at life from a far enough distance, it is apparent that anything we do is temporary and even the temporary is real. It doesn't get more real. The insanity is in thinking that it is not.

Father's Day

In the year 2008, today is Father's Day.

I do not have children of my own, therefore, I cannot speak from the view point of a parent, but I can certainly speak from the view point of a daughter.

My own Dad and I have an odd relationship. It was built on the fact that I was the oldest child in an immigrant family and by default I had to be the ground breaker in a foreign society. Needless to say that what was not accepted of me through my formative years, became a ho hum moment by the time my youngest sibling came of age. I laid the groundwork. I broke the barriers. Lets not forget, I am a female.

I attribute a lot of who I've become to my Father. We are both incredibly headstrong so we tend to clash more so than most. Feeling like you are right and the other is wrong is stressful. When it is a parent, oh my but it is grueling.

As I have gotten older, I have come to try to understand my Dad from his point of view. Its not easy. He is not a sitcom dad with all the answers at the end of the half hour program. He is just a human being with all the issues most people have.

If he taught me anything, perhaps he taught me to really believe in myself in spite of our contentious relationship. In an odd and roundabout way he taught me to never fail my dreams. We never had conversations about it, but it was born of how we related to one another.

To a girl, the first real male relationship she has is with her Dad. A lot of that determines what type of woman that girl grows into. To the Dads out there who read this, the only thing I can say is that foremost allow your daughter(s) the ability to realize a self confidence and high self esteem. It is something that is nurtured along the way and will serve her better than anything else you can teach her.

Never forget that as your daughters (can't speak for sons), we are a product of what you help us create. We become who we are, by the foundation you help us build. If you help us build a solid one, we will become strong and remarkable women. If you help us create a weak one, then there will be struggle to build something that will withstand the test of time.

With that I wish you all a Happy Father's Day and this includes the Moms who are also Dads in the lives of their children.

God Bless.

The Gifts We Leave Behind

Tim Russert died yesterday. He was 58. I won’t pretend to know much about him other than he was the host of Meet the Press, a show I don’t believe I have ever watched. But as is the case when someone of his celebrity passes on, the air waves are filled with thoughtful comments and choked back tears.

58 is young by any measure. I will venture a guess and say that he was going about his daily life, doing this and that, preparing for his next show when without any warning as to what the immediate future was about to bring, he drew his last breath leaving behind family, friends, co-workers and probably a mental ‘to do’ list which will never get done.

I don’t know when I will be living through my last day. I don’t normally worry or wonder about my own mortality. It is pointless. Life is lived by experiencing the moment to moment, not worrying about when the moments will come to the inevitable abrupt end. And abrupt it will be. There is a wonderful book by Mitch Albom called “The Five People You Meet in Heaven.” It begins with the last day in the life of the main character. Only the reader knows it’s his last day, obviously the character does not. He goes about his business and does what he has done for countless days leading up to ‘the moment’. It drives home the fact that none of us will ever know when it is our time.

In the coming days, there will be things said and repeated often about Mr. Russert. None of the comments will be about inconsequential nonsense. I’m sure his days were filled with as much annoying minutiae as ours are. The difference perhaps is in how he let it affect his life. Instead, what will be talked about is the person he was. The true legacy we leave behind is the difference if any, that we make in the lives of others. People will remember us, not necessarily by what we have achieved, rather by how we made them feel.

I wonder what legacy I will leave.

A friend recently told me that many years ago, I said something to her which was powerful and impacted her in such a way that she’s never forgotten it. When she told me what it was I could not recall any of it. It made me conscious of the fact that if I care and am passionate about what I believe in and find a way to express it to another, then perhaps the legacy I will leave behind is the gift of allowing someone to truly understand who they are.

When my time comes I will have no way to know how I affected the people in my life. The one thing I can hope for is that I leave behind fond memories which leave good feelings in their hearts and hopefully many, many smiles on their faces.

Speed is a Matter of Perception

There are few things more exhilarating for me than riding down a hill going at what I think is breakneck speed.

After cresting a hill the one true payoff is letting go and enjoying the sense that you are moving along quite rapidly while not having to exert much effort. Breeze cooling you down and your heart finding a slower rhythm.

I try not to think about much while I'm on the road. Basically, my focus right now is not getting my tires caught in the remnants of frost heaves which have left the road I ride an utter mess. Yes they are in the process of repaving. My tax dollars hard at work.

When you ride the same road often, you become very comfortable with where you are. You know exactly when to shift gears so you can get up that really steep section which is only about 1/8 of a mile but leaves your heart pounding like it was 10. You know when you're going to hit a flat patch where you can find a fluid pace and if you time your music properly it feels as though the stars have truly aligned and you can literally ride for days.

The first 8 miles of my normal ride is mainly uphill. Not steep (except for that dreaded 1/8 mile) but consistent. It takes effort. On the return, obviously there is a huge difference because it is of course, downhill. You can pick up a great deal of speed which I find I do and push every chance I get. Yesterday I glanced at the speedometer and it read 31.9mph. Please understand that is not about to challenge anyone on the Tour de France, but for me it is fast.

We spend an enormous amount of our lives getting up somewhere. All the things that are worth doing take work. Up the corporate ladder. Higher Education. Successful relationships. On and on. Do we ever get a chance to coast? Sometimes and surely coasting is not a way of life yet something we might like to achieve permanently. How dull.

If you coast for too long and become complacent, you'll hit a downhill a little faster than you anticipated and if you're not able to readjust your gears, you'll find yourself in a pile somewhere off the road wondering 'what the hell just happened"?

Everyone's speed is different. Some people can handle the blur some can't. At times I can't. Its too confusing. Was I really going that fast? By some comparisons not by a long shot but it didn't matter because I was the one riding. It reminded me of when I first started skiing. Having the misfortune of discovering the sport in my early 30's my fear level was a little higher than that of a 5 yr old. I was careening down a hill (the term being debatable) and I panicked and stopped declaring to my boyfriend that I couldn't believe how fast I was going. He looked at me, shook his head and said "a 2 yr old can walk faster". I was crushed.

Picking up speed on a downhill is easy. Not staying focused when you least want to can result in costly rubble.

The speed doesn't matter. What matters is how you pace it.