change

I really love Kate Northrup. She is a fresh, new voice in the “Spiritual Self Improvement” genre.
I’ve been a devotee of her mom, Dr. Christiane Northrup for years. Her books about navigating menopause have talked me down off the ledge many, many times. More times than I’d like to admit.
I discovered my beloved naturopath, Dr Holly Lucille, through her website, back in the day.

I found this article of Kate’s particularly insightful and we’ve been discussing it in the Wednesday Woman’s Group for two weeks, and again today in my writing Mastermind session.

So here’s the question: What’s the payoff for staying stuck?

When days, months, years or even decades go by, and you haven’t accomplished what you say is your heart’s desire…could you have an even deeper, more subconscious desire that overrides all that?

For instance, you may be able to trace the fact that you never get the time or opportunity to travel, which you say you’re dying to do, back to an even deeper desire for routine and normalcy, the VERY THINGS travel shoots to hell. So those deeper, ingrained desires will cancel out the travel – every time. Get it?

Here, take a minute to read Kate’s article, and start to become aware and make the changes you need to get unstuck.

Happy Friday!

xox

http://www.katenorthrup.com/what-are-you-getting-out-of-staying-right-where-you-are/

http://drhollylucille.com

http://www.drnorthrup.com

I wailed woefully at the top of my lungs and launched into a violent series of rapid fire kicks to the defenseless cabinetry that had the misfortune of being in line with my right foot.

Huge crocodile tears fell from my eyes into the batter, adding more salt than the recipe called for.

With one fluid motion fueled by rage and befitting a segment of one of those dumbass reality shows where the woman have major public meltdowns, I swept my right forearm along the cutting board which held the two bundt cake pans; their recently mixed, liquid contents coating the entire kitchen in one swipe; like a chocolate-chip Jackson Pollack masterpiece.

Fraidy and Teddy, my two Siamese cats who were the ever present, blue eyed witnesses to the hijinks that was my life, had been watching the whole debacle from the other side of the kitchen, atop the microwave. As they jumped down to sample the brown goodness that literally dripped from every surface, I shooed them away, remembering chocolate is bad for animals, and bemoaning that fact because I needed the help.
I had a long night of clean up ahead of me.

All the while the catalyst for the onslaught of my melt down with judo moves, the melancholy, molasses voice of Karen Carpenter played on speakers from the den nearby.

“I am dreaming tonight of a place I love
Even more than I usually do
And although I know it’s a long road back
I promise you

If only in my dreams”

If you know me at all, you know that the day after Thanksgiving, the Christmas music goes into heavy rotation – and I start baking.

Always have – always will.

It usually makes me stupid happy.
That year, 1999, it mad me sad, with a side of mad.

It had all started when I bought my house the previous April. I should have felt such a sense of accomplishment for having the courage to put my whole life in storage, save my ass off and find the perfect little house to purchase 

On. My. Own.

Just me, and my two cats.
But THAT ended up being the problem.
Huh, didn’t see THAT coming.

The day I moved in, when the last friend and family member said their goodbyes, and I stood amid the contents of my life stacked around me, along with all the empty pizza boxes; I had never felt so ALONE.

Wasn’t this a milestone you were supposed to share with that special someone?

Wasn’t there supposed to be that moment where you realize you’ve done something monumental, and you and your guy dance in candlelight with your nauseatingly cute matching pajamas (him, just the bottoms, you, just the tops) to music from a portable radio?
Then don’t you drink champagne from paper cups, toasting your good fortune, christening the house by making love on a mattress on the floor surrounded by boxes, books, bicycles and skis, while your cats have the good manners to look away?

Hey, I’m ashamed to admit it, but I wanted that.

All of the sudden at forty one, after being divorced for fifteen years, I wanted a significant other, a partner, a mate, a beloved.

I wanted a (gasp) husband with whom to share my life.

I’d often wished, late at night, for a shoulder to cry on when things were going down the toilet, but this was different, I wanted someone with which to share my – joy.
My accomplishments, the good things in life.

Oh great.

That was a completely unexpected side effect that must have been written in the small print the came with the mountains of paperwork that made up my mortgage and homeowners insurance.

Damn it, it shocked me.

My house echoed back it’s emptiness to me.
It was just me and the cats.
No matter what I did cosmetically it didn’t feel like a home.
.
Backyard lawns are there to run on, screen doors are made to be slammed, big kitchens should be hot and messy with sticky floors and the constant smell of something burning.

My friends referred to my house as “the museum.”
No noise, no chaos, no dirt. Nothing out of place.
Ugh. I didn’t want to live in no freaking museum – I wanted a home.

One week that June I went to Vegas for an annual jewelry trade show. I got a call about 9pm one night from one of my neighbors, the husband half of the lovely couple next door with two kids.
Steve was yelling into the phone over a loud siren. It was my house alarm, which had been going off for fifteen minutes.
It sounded like someone had escaped from Alcatraz.
Did I have a hide a key and code for him to go in and disarm it?
Another male voice yelled loudly in the background, “Maybe we can call her husband, do you have his number?” It was the police who had been sent by the alarm company.

“She doesn’t have a husband – she has cats.”

Steve’s voice suddenly sounded hugely amplified, as if he was yelling through a megaphone, announcing my sad predicament to everyone in earshot.
The alarm had gone silent.

Thanks Steve. I don’t think they heard you in Malibu.

I wanted to die. Kill me now. I’m the cat lady of Studio City.

This sudden urge to marry is not a strictly female affliction. I know several men who have succumbed. It is the taxi cab analogy. Men are like taxi cabs, roaming the dark streets of the big city, light off, ignoring a real fare, looking for action.

Then suddenly one day, their light goes on. Just like that.

These rogue cabs are ready to go legit. A man’s light has to go on, then he’ll settle down, until then….good luck.
Once a man’s light goes on, he usually marries the next girl he meets.

It’s all timing.

That was me. Suddenly, my light was on.

I wanted a husband and whatever that meant at that age.

I yearned for complicated, noisy and messy. No more order and no more museum. So hearing that song about love and home and Christmas had sent this Spinster Auntie (as I jokingly referred to myself) over the edge.

Isnt life crazy? Just when you think you have things all figured out…..

Sometimes you don’t know until you know.
Oh brother, we’re back to that again.

But it’s true, some seemingly innocent accomplishment, tragedy or happenstance can suddenly become the catalyst for change in your life. It happens quite by surprise, when you’re not even looking.

It’s all about timing.
BAM!
Your light goes on and changes EVERYTHING.

Tell me about the time that this has happened to you because I KNOW it has!
I’d love to hear your stories too!

Love you,
Xox

Dear Ones, 
Have you ever loved someone so deeply you thought you might die?

That you would become immersed, completely consumed and drown in the depths of that feeling of connection?

Have you loved so intensely that it made your toes curl, your hair go straight, your skin glow, your fingernails grow, your personality improve, and your temper take a hiatus?

Did you get thinner and more beautiful just because that love permeated every cell of your being? (Also because you were so lovesick you couldn’t eat.)

Did you love so completely that you had the superpowers of infinite selflessness, the need for virtually no sleep, and constant adorable-ness?

Did that love make you a better person?
Could you tell a better story? Remember the end of jokes? Cook the perfect omelet? Remember birthdays? Balance your checkbook? Say please and thank you? Sleep without drooling? Laugh when things were funny, cry when they were sad?

Were you able to be unfiltered, unguarded and uncensored because of that love?

Did the sex render your face more open, your eyes more loving and your skin softer?
It does that you know.

When you loved so intensely – wasn’t the world a better place?
You didn’t care about lines and traffic, they just gave you more time to get lost in thoughts of your beloved.

When that love intoxicated you, wasn’t everyone beautiful?

Didn’t that homeless guy and the lady on the bus stop want to make you weep because suddenly you had new eyes that were able to see their soul?
Love does that.

When that love ended, did you regret you had ever felt it?

Why?

Love, love, 
Xox

Oh Dear Hearts,

If you are currently on this journey, just know that I am there with you.

While I observe from afar the culling of those around me daily, it has occurred to me that my “circle” is a living thing.

It is alive with its own thoughts and opinions and if we are lucky, it reinvents itself several times during our lives.
I do say this with great caution, because it doesn’t feel like luck – at the time.

Don’t kill the messenger please.

The vision I had one day of my “circle” is that it’s one of those spinning playground circle things. You know the one.
A bunch of us hold on while three or four rascals spin the thing faster and faster until you either puke or get spun off.

In recent months my circle has been spinning very fast, and people have seemed to have fallen away.
I checked for puke and there was none; fortunately they left before they lost their lunch.
That’s good, because now that’s it’s begun to slow down and new people are jumping aboard, I don’t want to make a bad impression.

Just as it did when I finished school, changed jobs, and got married, my circle is refining and reinventing itself. Some in my “circle” have been with me all along, taking the ride, while others have decided to move on.

I bid adieu to those riders. We all had a great ride.
No sadness – only gratitude. Only love.

I can see the new riders lining up to jump on, breathing new life, wisdom and great value into my “circle.”

You can’t control your “circle” and it’s antics.
At least that has alluded me so far and you know what?
Thank God.
My “circle” has no issues. It’s just waiting for the best participants.
It picks the BEST people.

Take heart, I’m riding this with you my loves,
Xox

We talked in the Wednesday Group about clean living.
B O R I N G……..(insert loud snoring here)

Actually, we talked about it with genuine enthusiasm; healthy eating, minimizing alcohol and caffeine consumption, dialing down the gossip, amping up the exercise, trying some liver cleansing and becoming financially responsible.

It may not seem to make any sense but it all comes part and parcel with becoming self aware.

We must clean our house before the big guns, self esteem, self awareness and self reliance can come to stay.

Here’s where things start to get a bit dicey:
Your life REALLY makes an about face when you become self empowered and ramp up your yoga, meditation, prayer, green juice and self love consumption.

As you undertake this internal housekeeping, not only do you and your liver become furious knuckleheads (temporarily) but so do the people and circumstances around you.

I was told at about this point in my spiritual journey, twenty or so years ago, when I couldn’t believe how ridiculous everyone around me was behaving; this honey of a tongue twister:

You can’t unknow what you now know

Huh?

In other words, there was no going back.
No more Eyes Wide Shut.

Oh…..how I prayed at times to go back to being unconscious, and now so are my women.

All the Good Time Charlie’s that used to appear so charming, jovial, fun and engaging while they dispensed their alcohol fueled advise; now they seem like raging alcoholics, in horrible jobs, with relationships they can’t stand and their advise is just…….well, it’s justBAD.
Honestly.
When did THAT happen?

How did we never see that before?

You’re out there, transforming your little ass off, making all these brave, impressive changes in your life, and the peanut gallery is……. supportive…..except for the ones in the bleachers that want you to stay the same.
They are fearful and they are LOUD.
They call, they text, they email and talk to your family as they fight to remain relevant in your life.
One of the interesting things that happens as you awaken is that the Universe will supply to you, a living, breathing, “devil’s advocate” who embodies all your doubts and fears and becomes like gum on the bottom of your shoe – annoying and hard to get rid of.

It’s a good plan. It causes you to plead your case, gain clarity and steels your resolve to evolve.

As you survey the landscape of your previous life, you realize it was populated by a cast of rather reckless characters, of which YOU were the ringleader.

Your eyes were wide shut as you ran up your credit card debit, enabled a friend, and did your best impression of an ostrich, head in the sand, while bills, the shrapnel of your lousy choices and legal papers gathered around you and swallowed your butt.

It was a bit of a circus, and we all know, when you join the circus – you join for life….unless you open your eyes and clean things up, and that doesn’t make your circus family very happy when you decide to ditch your baggage and leave the Big Top.

Some people around you, old friends and co workers will seem crazy and even a bit frightening. 
Don’t be alarmed, you may just have to chill while the circus leaves town and circles back around.
Give them time.
They’ll get used to the new Eyes Wide Open you, and they’ll either embrace the new, improving you….or not.

In any case, just love them.
The key is kindness and the very thing we all desire – acceptance.
Send them light and love and the courage to open their eyes.

How are the people around you behaving? Are they accepting your “eyes wide open?” How do you avoid getting hurt and angry? I’d love to hear about it!

Sending circus love,
Xox

REALIZE
re·al·ize
ˈrē(ə)ˌlīz/
verb
1. become fully aware of (something) as a fact; understand clearly.
“he realized his mistake at once”
synonyms: register, perceive, discern, be/become aware of (the fact that), be/become conscious of (the fact that)

I have recently, like in the last few days, fallen madly in LOVE with the word realize. Because I just gained a deeper understanding of its meaning.
When you have a realization, you suddenly see that thing with REAL EYES.
Hence the phrase: Oh, I see.
Holy mother of God, I think the top of my head just blew off.
How has this escaped me until this very week?

This experience is similar to my optician working his magic and professionally cleaning my glasses AND discovering I had an astigmatism in BOTH eyes thus changing the prescription on my contact lenses. In both instances, although I perceived my vision as clear, it was as if a dense fog had lifted and my eye sight had gone High Definition. I saw everything differently.
I’m no longer allowed to look up close, at any part of my husband. I can see things too well. I see them so clearly that I get the same intense look on my face as that chick on CSI, when she’s examining gory body parts under the microscope.
Holy shit……Oh, I seeeeee.

For all of us from the Oprah Show generation, a realization is an Ah Ha moment.
“My health problems all stem from my inability to make a change” said a friend, over salad. Ah Ha moment. And a life changer. It disrupted a pattern and started a new trajectory.

My sister swears it’s physical. When something really registers, she insists a door creaks open in her forehead, and let’s the light in.
Palm held to forehead slowly opens. Creeeeeeeeak.
I’ve been there. I think I’ve actually heard it.
We’ll be deep in conversation on one of life’s great mysteries like; what’s the deal with chin hair? When all of the sudden her eyes get real big, and her mouth drops open. We don’t even say anything. We both just put our palms to our foreheads and make the creaking noise.
Then we laugh so hard, no sound comes out.

This happens to me ALL the time with spiritual books and CD’s. I re-read the books that call me before bed. Through the winding canyons of Los Angeles, I play CD’s over and over in the zen monastery that is my car.
Because; for the almost 40 years I’ve been doing it, I’ve witnessed something curious. Realization tends to sneak up on me. It doesn’t come when called, or stop and turn around when chased. Realization comes to me when I least expect it, through repetition and a relaxing of the mind.
In a car ripe with dog farts.

I will know the material so well I can practically recite it verbatim. Then one day, my perception will shift. A word or a concept will click. I’ll hear or see it differently.
And I get it. I mean I REALLY get it. I now understand it in a totally new way.
I have a realization. I see it with REAL EYES.
After certain events in my life, after a perceived failure for instance, I re-read a chapter on the subject and wailed my head off, accompanied by big sloppy sobs. The previous ten times I had read it……nothing……crickets……it didn’t even register.
Now, I see it with REAL EYES.
As I keep aging, growing and changing, so does my understanding of pretty much everything, as evidenced by this post.

The drawing above is a perfect visual aid for this concept.
How convenient.
At first glance, it’s a young woman. But if you shift your perception, take your time and look deeply, an old crone appears. 
Then, she’s all you see. She’s real. The easy, first glance girl disappears.
The crone’s been there all along, but if you didn’t take the time for a second look, you’d have missed her……..Oh, I see.
Did I just hear the sound of a hundred doors creaking open?

I’d love to hear about any Ah Ha’s you’ve had recently. Something you suddenly saw with REAl EYES. Tell me about them in in the comments below.

Xox

As I’m out and about these days, asking questions and being my nosey self,
the topic that keeps coming up has been about trying to maintain or salvage difficult, morphing friendships.
And by difficult, I mean the ones that have become almost impossible to pursue due to the other party’s jackassery. You, of course, have been the best friend imaginable. Right?

What’s the best way to react when a friend you really care about starts to move on? Emotionally and/or physically? Is it wise to be angry and demand their participation? What about begging? I’ll answer that one. For chrissakes, don’t beg. Have a little self respect. Jeez. I say that because I’m hearing about it, watching it happen, and I’ve done it. Let them go. Did you see Bridesmaids?

Transition is harder for some of us than others. Holding on to a friendship by the ankles, doesn’t show love or devotion. It shows fear of change and….desperation. There, I said it. I’ve mentioned it before in the blog, but here it is again. A therapist once admonished me: Janet, you don’t just love, you take hostages. Be careful with that. 

So I know a bit about the subject. It applied to men and girlfriends.
And I’ve worked really hard at letting things transition. The natural ebb and flow of relationships. I learned to observe a friend’s behavior. If they stopped coming around or calling, I would check in to make sure they were alive, and if everything checked out and they remained MIA, I would give the relationship space. Yes, it hurt my feelings. Hurt feeling are survivable.
The good friendships are fluid, filled with liquid respect. There are no harsh words, ultimatums or judgements leveled. They move away, then return, just like the tide, even years later it can seem like not a day has passed.

With girlfriends, when one of them gets into a serious relationship, they may not be available as much on the weekends. It kinda sucks, because us girls will be there when he’s long gone, and she should be able to accommodate both, but we’ve all been there, on both ends, I’m sure.
It’s the same when good friends get in with another group of people and (gasp) hang with them, instead of us. Traitor. Do you go into heavy pursuit, calling and texting relentlessly or do you let the thing play out. She’ll be back. She’ll miss your general awesomeness, and the fact that you know her backstory…and you still love her.
THEY are just acquaintances, you are her friend.

Sadly, some friendships do just fade away. One or both parties have changed, and the things you had in common have dwindled. Do you applaud a friend’s changes, or do you challenge them, wanting everything to go back to the way it was? They may need to catch up to you, or visa versa and that can really sting, especially if you’ve been friends for a long time. But my advise is the same: observe and give it space and time. If there is a real connection, you’ll be able to pick things up. Easily. If not, well then, it was bound to end.
Friendships are a two way street.
They’re not a game of solitaire.

Don’t let these friendship adjustments close you down. Put yourself out there and make a few new ones. It’s hard, and you won’t want to do it, but that has saved me.
When all my friends AND my sister had babies, everything changed for me. I wasn’t in Mommy and Me, and even though I spent many an afternoon in Chuck E Cheese, I just wasn’t in the mommy club.
So, I made an effort to make new friends. Friends that could go to the movies, be spontaneous, maybe go to Palm Springs for the weekend. I had to, I was tired of being a single, childless, sad sack.
After a few years, I was able to blend the two groups. The mommies were coming out of their jet lag level fatigue, and they wanted to have some girlfriend time. Just like now. The empty nesters all want to come out and play again. I’m thrilled. No grudges held here. Just nights of wine and lots of snort laughs. Damn, it’s hard to believe these crazy bitches are someone’s mother!

My advise? Let your friend go, and when that door closes, don’t nail it shut. Your friend may be back. She’ll be the wiser and richer for leaving and your friendship will only benefit.

Tell me, has a friendship changed for you recently? How are you handling it?
I’d love to hear about it in the comments below.
If you’ve done it well and have some tips, I’d love to hear that too!

Xox Janet

I LOVE This!

So…I was in the middle of writing another post yesterday morning when the earth moved.
Actually, my wise friend said it yawned. I love that.
Just don’t swallow my house, will ya?
It’s all good.
The dogs got a bit jittery, one picture fell but didn’t break.
I say: No big whoop.

I couldn’t go back to my previous thought though, and continue writing the post.
I kept being reminded, for some reason of the 1994 earthquake.
This mornings was just a poor imititation.
January 1994 was as close to “The Big One” as I’ve ever been, and ever want to be.

Of the things that came to mind, several were kinda mystical, and some started me on the road to retrieving my sanity. I know, pretty dramatic, cut me a break here!

Back in 1994 I lived in a high rise in “mid city” as they call it. So as not to be confused with downtown or the west side.
It was dark o’clock. Just after four in the morning.
I remember waking up to pee and feeling a deep sense of calm and well being.
I distinctly remember those feelings because:
1) They were an anomaly. I was not having a good time. I was suffering horrible anxiety attacks and living on Xanax just to cope. (Read my We Have An Agreement posts. There are four, sorry)
2) The timing. It was like a warm hug of reassurance before all hell broke loose.

I won’t get into too much detail. Suffice it to say, the damage was extensive.
Every window shattered, my walls cracked open so wide you could pass the Grey Poupon into the next room.

The first mystical experiences I had, were part of my post quake hysteria.
I just wanted to get the hell out of my building.
The swaying from the initial quake and subsequent aftershocks was making me sea sick.
I grabbed my purse with my car keys and began my adrenalin fueled sprint down nine flights of stairs.
When I reached the covered garage, I pulled my car out for safety and sat shaking violently listening for any news on the radio.
Then my eyesight went.
Just like that.
It was perfect until the adrenalin wore off. Then I went back to being blind as a bat.
In my haste to escape, I forgot to put in my contacts or grab my glasses.
If I was going to drive or basically function at all that day, I had to run back up and get my glasses. Shit. 

I thought it might be a good idea to brush my teeth while I was at it. If I was going to venture out on the mean streets of “mid city” to forage for food and shelter, morning breath wouldn’t be an asset.
I was terrified to go back up, but I had no choice. When I got to my apartment ( I had left the door wide open) there were neighbors still wearing jammies in the hall. One of the men grabbed me by the arm to stop me from running back inside. He pointed at all the broken glass and then looked down at my bare feet.
He was nice enough with his flashlight (no electricity) and slippers to go inside and get me my glasses and a pair of flip flops. You could hear every tentative step, marked by the crunching of broken glass.
How the hell had I gotten out of there without a single cut on my feet?

Forget brushing my teeth, no water. Gum would have to suffice.

By the way, the neighbors on the opposite side of the hall from me, had much less significant damage. None of their windows were broken. They could not believe the extant of the damage to the apartments that faced northwest.
Earthquakes are similar to tornados in the randomness of their destruction.
Either it’s your lucky day…or it’s not.

My kitchen was a freakin’ disaster. It seemed every cabinet had opened and thrown its contents against the opposite wall. Not to be outdone, the refrigerator and freezer had gotten into the act as well. There was a ginormous pile of china, food and glass with a booze chaser on the floor.
Here’s where the mystical part comes in.
EVERY piece of crystal, china, and ceramics from my marriage was PULVERIZED.
Like the aftermath of a wild, drunken Greek wedding on steroids.
They weren’t just broken, they had reverted back into sand.
During clean up; there was NO salvage; my shaman friend pointed out that the cabinet just next to the “wedding stuff” had remained closed and everything inside was safe. It appeared that anything fragile that I had purchased in the ten years since the divorce was okay to stay. Anything from before that, was a total loss.
He reminded me that crystal holds energy, it holds memories, and THAT just needed to go.

As you can imagine I had to move. I chose a cute little ground floor garden apartment, all wood floors and bookcases. SO much better for my energy to be around wood. 
The steel and glass of the high rise had been messing with me. 
I started to feel better almost immediately.
That was part one of my sanity recovery.
Part two was the fact that I was no longer alone in my neurosis. EVERYONE was a nervous wreak.
I mean it.
EVERYONE in the city had a story to tell. Men told me how they couldn’t stop shaking. Women were all red eyed from not sleeping. They should have put Valium in the water, almost everyone I talked to was taking them like candy to navigate the daily aftershocks.
It was freakin’ awesome! 
Misery truly does love company I’m ashamed to say.
If EVERYONE is freaking out and you’re suffering panic attacks, you look downright normal.

Okay, one last mystical story.
Fast forward a couple of months.
I’m feeling better, I’m in the shower getting ready to go to a Buddhist chanting, 
and “that” voice says: You’re okay, you’re fine.
Me: yes; yes I am.
Voice: You’re okay, you’re fine.
Me: Um…thanks…good to know.
Voice: You’re okay, you’re fine.
Me: WTF?
Then it started. Very slooooowly. I actually heard it before I felt it.
Earthquake….In the shower…No!
One of my top ten worst fears realized.

But, of course I was okay, I was fine.
XoxJanet

There is a day, even just a moment one day, where “that” voice just says: enough.
And THIS time every fiber of your being stops and snaps to attention.

The pivot at that point is inevitable, the natural course of events.
Up until that moment you’ve been slogging through waist deep water, every step requiring maximum effort.
Suddenly, there is freedom, you are able to pirouette on the head of a pin.
Easy breezy.
Decision made.
Pivot…and….turn.

I’ve had a few pivot points. I disagree with Brian Tracy. I think everyone’s had a least one.
Mine was not at 15, I may have been slogging in the water, but I wasn’t self-aware enough to make it happen.

I did have one at 25. I didn’t want to be married anymore.
It wasn’t really him, I just didn’t want to be a married person ( I won’t say woman, because I was still a girl) anymore.
Clear, specific, unequivocal.
Get the tutu, I’m about to pirouette on the pin.

Then at 30 I gave the tutu another whirl and quit acting. 
Just like that.
Done.
I couldn’t live like that for one more day.
I was done being broke.
I was finished with constant rejection.
I wanted a “real” life.
I was ready to pivot toward success.
It actually felt more like a jig on the head of a pin, but you get the gist.

The more I think about this, the more I realize that the tutu doesn’t go into retirement for very long in my life.
I either have a low tolerance for mediocrity or I’ve come to the conclusion that once you pivot, once you do your pirouette on that pin, it becomes easier and easier.
Momentum is your friend.

Don’t get me wrong.
I have fallen off the pin, mid pirouette, legs akimbo, tutu up over my head; but that’s because I like to pivot FAST! I close my eyes so I don’t get dizzy, and I spin like a dervish.
I don’t suggest it.

As I say goodbye to my previous career and life, because once again, I’ve decided I can’t live like that for one more day.
I’m more deliberate in my pivot.
My pirouette has slowed a bit.
I’ve opened my eyes, and I’m looking around as I turn.

Such a grown up now. Ha!

Come join me up here on the pin, even if you fall… you won’t regret it.

XoxJanet