growth

Hello everybody,
This was posted by my dear friend Leslie, on her Facebook page.
Everyone has a dear friend Leslie; someone you haven’t seen in years but manage to feel connected to through the miracle of social media. I met her over a decade ago, and even in those first few moments, as she helped me pick out only the coolest coffee table books to sell in my store—I knew we’d be friends for life.

I’d like to think we have the same taste. We don’t. She’s wayyyy hipper than I could ever dream of being, but that’s beside the point. One day, she told me that I had to have an exhibition of her husband’s art in my store, I did, and it kind of ended up defining the place.
So, now I cyber-stalk her on Instagram.  
When I see her post a particular swatch of fabric she loves, or a throw pillow, charcoal sketch, headboard, or couch she’s just purchased—I think to myself, Yes! Well done Leslie, I love that too!

When I grow up I want to be more like Leslie.
More diverse in my musical tastes (although I’m pretty sure we love all the same artists), more committed to finding small batch, off-the beaten-path, artsy-fartsy-folksy things to prop on a shelf in that very purposely, not-on-purpose way she has. Maybe I’ll even spring for a used-brick, New York lofty, so-good-it-makes-you-want-to-die, office getaway just blocks from Venice beach—only to be near hers.

Leslie is an adult. She’s good at it! But only in the best sense of the word—not in that stilted, 401K watching, void of any fun, kind of way. She’s a mother, a reader, a life-reinventor, a deep thinker, and an even deeper feeler (is that even a thing?). Leslie will know.
And besides all of that, we share the same sense of humor—self-deprecating and a little twisted, which often makes me snort-laugh coffee from my nose.

Anyway, Leslie posted this beautiful piece by Rania Niam the other day and of course, it touched my heart, I LOVED it, and wish I’d written it.  I think you’ll love it too, and Leslie. But you can’t have her. She’s mine. 

Carry on,
xox

You’re allowed to leave any story you don’t find yourself in. You’re allowed to leave any story you don’t love yourself in.

You’re allowed to leave a city that has dimmed your light instead of making you shine brighter, you’re allowed to pack all your bags and start over somewhere else and you’re allowed to redefine the meaning of your life.

You’re allowed to quit the job you hate even if the world tells you not to and you’re allowed to search for something that makes you look forward to tomorrow and to the rest of your life.

You’re allowed to leave someone you love if they’re treating you poorly, you’re allowed to put yourself first if you’re settling and you’re allowed to walk away when you’ve tried over and over again but nothing has changed.

You’re allowed to let toxic friends go, you’re allowed to surround yourself with love, and people who encourage and nurture you. You’re allowed to pick the kind of energy you need in your life.

You’re allowed to forgive yourself for your biggest and smallest mistakes and you’re allowed to be kind to yourself, you’re allowed to look in the mirror and actually like the person you see.

You’re allowed to set yourself free from your own expectations.

We sometimes look at leaving as a bad thing or associate it with giving up or quitting, but sometimes leaving is the best thing you can do for yourself.

Leaving allows you to change directions, to start over, to rediscover yourself and the world. Leaving sometimes saves you from staying stuck in the wrong place with the wrong people.

Leaving opens a new door for change, growth, opportunities and redemption.

You always have the choice to leave until you find where you belong and what makes you happy.

You’re even allowed to leave the old you behind and reinvent yourself.

Author: Rania Niam

https://thoughtcatalog.com/rania-naim/

So, you guys, in the past 36 hours, three of my squad, my spiritual tribunal — Liz Gilbert, Danielle LaPorte, and Marie Forleo, the ladies who I look to to give it to me straight — they ALL wrote or talked about looking fear in the eye, saying “fuck it” — and then moving forward.

Carry on through the fear you guys, (Like Lizzie into the fire, *wink).
xox

Take it away Liz!

Question of the day: DO YOU ALREADY KNOW WHAT YOU NEED TO DO?

Dear Ones –
Here I was yesterday in the South Island of New Zealand, where I am visiting my beautiful cousin Melissa. You can’t really see Melissa in this photo (she is the tiny figure on the right) but trust me: She’s here.

Why is Melissa here?

Because four years ago, my cousin quit her good steady job (during a recession, no less!) and left behind her safe and familiar life in her small Midwestern hometown, and moved HERE, to begin a new life, starting from nothing, at the wild ends of the earth.

My cousin didn’t know anyone in this entire hemisphere. She had never before traveled. She feared she was “too old” to change her life. She had always been risk-averse, and the thought of moving across the world was terrifying. But she had been stuck for too long. She was suffocating in her day-to-day existence. She couldn’t take it anymore. She was tired of faking happiness.

Then she realized: “If I don’t face my fears, I will never grow.”

So she did it. She followed some deep, irrational, inner instinct that led her right to this place. She planned to stay in New Zealand for only four months…but she has now stayed for four years. And holy shit, has she grown. She sees this wild ocean every day. She has bungee’d off cliffs, and climbed glaciers, and repelled down mountains, and bought a house, and started a business, and — most amazingly of all — she has conquered her fear of public speaking!
(And oh yeah…she also met and married the love of her life here.)

As Melissa told me today: “I wish I had changed my life earlier, but I didn’t have the courage. I always knew what I needed to do, but for years it made me sick with fear to imagine actually doing it.”
This observation made me think of all the times in my life when I was stuck, and also knew exactly what I needed to do — but I might have put it off for years, because I, too, was sick with fear about actually doing it.

In fact, it made me wonder if maybe we all have some deep inner instinct about our true destiny — about what we need to do next, at every turn — but our fear and insecurity and self-doubt sometimes makes us put it off for years. Or forever.

I do believe that every single time in my life I have ever said in desperation, “I don’t know what I should do!” — in fact, I DID know what I needed to do. I was just too afraid to do it.

And then one day, you’ve had enough.
And then one day — you just freaking go do it.
And that’s the day when the best part of your life actually begins.
ONWARD,
LG

If you need more convincing, take a look at this!

Hi you guys!
Here is this weeks Huffington Post essay. It has to do with failing BIG and making peace with it.
So much so that I sat down and wrote it a love letter:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/janet-bertolus/my-love-letter-to-failure_b_8198096.html

If you know anyone going through a hard time right now who could use this, I’d love it if you’d share.
Carry on,
xox

My dearest, darling Failure,

You don’t mind if I call you by that name, do you?

I’m well aware that it’s much more politically correct to refer to you on your visits as re-direction, contrast, disappointment and, of course, correction, blah, blah, blah.

But when shit hits the fan, when careers crash and burn, when marriages end badly; when we get fired, sued, or otherwise fucked over — when the things we hold dearest in our lives fracture and give way under the stress — sweetheart, it’s YOUR face we all see at the scene of the crime.

I know, I hear you when you complain that you are greatly under-appreciated but let me be clear — no one wants you around!

That being said, as I’ve come to know you better over the past few years, well, I have to admit– I’ve fallen for you…hard.

I don’t mean to sugar coat things, but you came into my life with the face of my foe and you have become my friend.

You shook things up for me BIG TIME. You took my tiny Etch-A-Sketch of a life, with all of its perfectly drawn straight lines, and you hurled it into an F5 tornado.

But I love you for that, ya big lug.

Just uttering your name, Failure, can set a person’s teeth on edge, but please don’t take it personally. I’ll give it to you straight. The reason you’re not welcome in our lives is because we’re all terrified that when you show up you’ll get comfortable, and never leave.

But truth be told, you are just as fleeting as success, THAT you’ve taught me.

When you are standing next to me knee-deep in the rubble of my life, you know what I do the next day? I get up and put one foot in front of the other, each step moving me forward.

You know what I do the days Success holds my hand? I get up, put one foot in front of the other and move forward with my life.

Success has its value — don’t get me wrong — but you Failure, your lessons have marked me more deeply and profoundly than I could have ever imagined and I love you for that.

Success never caused me to grow, gave me depth nor made me an internally richer person.

But by God, you have Failure.

Success made me lazy, afraid to try new things and take chances.

You gave me a glimpse of my true nature.

You have delivered to me some of my most agonizing moments but they have transformed me.

You made me better. Better in business; better in life. A better friend, sister and wife.

Damn it, I love you man.

We all go to extraordinary lengths to avoid you–I know I did–but I realize now that was a mistake.

It’s like trying to avoid aging, which is a similar double-edged sword and just as futile.
There are as many benefits to be gained from failure as there are from growing old, and BOTH are a privilege.

I truly love you Failure.
If you had not come into my life when you did, I would not be the person I am today.

Big hug and a sloppy kiss,
xox
Janet

“One of the benefits of being a mature well-educated woman is that you’re not afraid of expletives and you have no fear of putting a fool in his place”
Dame Judi Dench

I fucking love her.

Aging; getting older; lemme guess, you don’t want to talk about it.

Too bad. Fool.
Spoiler alert — we’re all going to grow older, but we don’t have to AGE.

A couple of years ago hubby and I sent a giant bouquet of black flowers, like something stolen off of Lincoln’s funeral pyre, to a friend for her (wait for it)… FORTIETH birthday.

If I remember correctly it even had a sash running across the middle with the word CONDOLENCES in silver letters.

She was in full denial, not embracing her inner forty-year old AT ALL and since both of us were well into our fifties at the time, well, I know, it was the epitome of jackassery — but it was also damn funny.

I got the general idea from the FIFTIETH birthday party of a friend that I attended over a decade ago. The theme was an Irish Wake.
The flowers were different shades of black, everyone was urged to wear black clothes (which in LA is not a stretch), the guys were given black armbands, there was a coffin filled with Guinness, even the cake was draped in swags of black.

The invitation looked like a death certificate. The demise of her youth. “All your good years are behind you, consider the next couple of decades God’s waiting room” was the joke in the toast that was structured like a eulogy — it was funny as hell at the time — now I’m not so sure. What message were we sending her? What were we telling ourselves? Did we all really believe that fifty was the end of life as we knew it?

More and more studies have come out recently about aging and how our beliefs can effect our bodies along with our spirits. You are as old as you feel the studies say, which has nothing to do with our chronological age.

My husband lies and says he’s seventy just for the compliments that follow.

We are growing older there’s no denying that, but a huge section of the population, us baby boomers, are not aging anything like our grandparents or even our parents for that matter.

Fifty is the new thirty, sixty is the new forty.

Diet, exercise, yoga, meditation, Botox, Spanx and the moderate love of the dark arts: coffee, alcohol and chocolate, have allowed many of us to sidestep some of the ravages of time.

My only regret is the fact that sunscreen wasn’t invented until after I had already fried myself, like a piece of crispy bacon, in baby oil for a decade. All things considered my skin isn’t THAT bad, I can only thank genetics for the fact that I don’t look like the wizened overly tanned woman in “There’s Something About Mary”.

As I approach sixty (just writing that seems surreal) I find myself hanging around with forty-somethings  more often because I have no intention of acting my age — to start winding down – I’m just getting started with life.

A couple of years ago, on a random Sunday, as an act of wanton what-the-fuckery, I decided to get my nose pierced. Here was my thought process: Damn, I just saw three women in a row with a little tiny diamond in their nose. I wish I’d done that…heywaitaminute… What am I talking about? I CAN do that.

So I did.
That very day.

As I walked out the door with a friend on my arm for moral support, I informed my husband where I was going “Do I have anything to say about that?” he inquired, a little taken aback.

Nope.

Most of my friends never even noticed. A couple said they were happy I was wearing the diamond again (like I’d had the piercing all along).

After seeing Christiane Northrup talk about aging, our beliefs and attitude (she’s all over the media lately with her new book “Goddesses Never Age”) I could feel the sass start to bubble up inside. What would it be this time? Tattoo? Pole dancing? Another piercing?

With all of my accumulated fifty-seven years of conviction I strode in to see my hairdresser/friend Reny on Tuesday, (in our thirty year relationship he has probably dyed my hair almost every color imaginable — except for green – I hate green) and together we decided that yes, Royal Purple would look the best with my skin tone and my burgeoning grey. It’s subtle really, and just underneath… waiting to surprise the people that pay attention.
Watcha think?

Okay you guys, what little thing (dying your hair is a little thing, you can always dye it back) can YOU do to halt your aging process and help yourself look more like you feel inside?

A wrist tattoo? (that could be next for me), stop dressing your age? Grow your hair long? Eat dinner after 7 p.m.? Take a dance class? Join a book club with women in their thirties? Go see live music?

You tell me.

Carry on you crazy fools,
Xox

Hi Loves,
Have you been feeling held back lately? – dragged back down by the ankles?
Or… are you holding somebody back?
Read this short essay by Liz Gilbert about her insights, and those of Rob Bell. This is by far the best explanation of the crab bucket analogy that I’ve read.
xox

Take it away guys!

ONWARD,
LG

HI Loves,
I hope this finds you enjoying the long holiday weekend – eating, watching sports, eating, shopping, eating, and hanging with friends and family. And eating some more.

That is my wish for you, for all of us really, that we age with grace and dignity, and kick some serious ass along the way!

much love,
xox

“Most of us have two lives. The life we live, and the unlived life within us.  Between the two stands Resistance”
~Steven Pressfield “The War of Art.” 

“The War of Art” is one of my all time favorite books on creation, life, love and well… what else is there?

In my humble opinion, it should be a textbook in every school, on every hotel nightstand, next to the Bible, and reduced to liquid form and added to the water supply.

Beyond what the title implies, this book is not strictly written for artists and writers.

As you’ll glean from the list below, Resistance isn’t particular about which endeavors it sabotages. The only thing they have in common is our desire to become fully realized. Whether that be through artistic pursuits, the Paleo diet, Fab Ab Bootcamp, that non-profit you want to start or marrying Scooter.

Up until Steven set us straight, we thought we were all just dumbass, procrastinating losers.

Nope, that’s just Resistance talking smack and taking the wheel, leaving us eating its dust and only dreaming about our unlived lives.
It will always stand in the way of our growth.
It’s a law; like gravity. That explains sooooooooooo much.

Assbite.

But…what I know for SURE….Resistance only has the power WE give it. 

“The following is a list, in no particular order, of those activities that most commonly elicit Resistance:

1) The pursuit of any calling in writing, painting, music, film, dance, or any creative art, however marginal or unconventional.

2) The launching of any entrepreneurial venture or enterprise, for profit or otherwise.

3) Any diet or health regimen.

4) Any program of spiritual advancement.

5) Any activity whose aim is tighter abdominals.

6) Any course or program designed to overcome an unwholesome habit or addiction.

7) Education of every kind.

8) Any act of political, moral, or ethical courage, including the decision to change for the better some unworthy pattern of thought or conduct in ourselves.

9) The undertaking of any enterprise or endeavor whose aim is to help others.

10) Any act that entails commitment of the heart. The decision to get married, to have a child, to weather a rocky patch in a relationship.

11) The taking of any principled stand in the face of adversity. (Pam, wink)

In other words, any act that rejects immediate gratification in favor of long-term growth, health, or integrity. Or, expressed another way, any act that derives from our higher nature instead of our lower. 

Any of these will elicit Resistance.

Excerpt From: Steven Pressfield & Shawn Coyne. “The War of Art.” Visionary Press, 2012. iBooks. 
This material may be protected by copyright.

I’d LOVE it if you’d tell me: 
What beautiful thing has Resistance been talking you out of doing?
Do you agree that we have two lives, the one we live and the unlived life?
Much O love O
Xox

This is one of the beautiful, heroic, woman from our Wednesday Women’s group, about to embark on a long awaited adventure.

She’s showing me her “Maya” heart stone.
One side says: “What would Maya do?” And the other side says: I Am enough, which is a favorite Maya Angelou quote.

I made sure she had that heart stone to take along with her on her trip, to remind her that she is loved.

She is a perfect representation of the power of women.
She is exactly why I started the group. She has gathered her strength and courage as we watched, and we held the place for her.

Now look, there’s no stopping her!!

Love that! Love her!

Who’s next?
Do you have a challenge you want to overcome?
Want a Maya stone? Let me know.

Xox

I LOVE This!