humor

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

<p>“Comparison is the thief of joy.”
~Teddy Roosevelt~

It would be very easy to catch right now.
I haven’t been vaccinated, I’m not big on needles.
All I can say is; It feels VERY contagious right now.
I hope I don’t come down with a case of Comparison-itis.

Here in LA it’s easy to get caught up in “keeping up with the Kardashians” so to speak.
You can find yourself wanting a better car or a bigger home. The clothes, the shoes, the handbags…oh my!
Even youth. This is the land of young and beautiful people.
Here in La-La Land that over 40 crowd that succumbs to Comparison-itis help keep the plastic surgeons in their alligator loafers.

The truth is; comparing WILL steal your joy.
Because there will always be someone smarter, taller, thinner, richer, whatever! And when you chase them, you lose sight of your own blessings.
Believe me, there are people who want what you take for granted.

I’ve started my business course this week and it comes with a private Facebook page.
There are fellow students posting the amazing progress they’ve made and the epic insights they’ve had. They’ve completed all the assignments, attained magnificent clarity, increased their customer base by 60% and their income by 200%, and they are enthusiastically sharing it with our community, to great fanfare.
Let me be clear, school started Monday…it’s Wednesday. 

I keep reminding myself that when you re-enter the school system, even on the internet, you avail yourself to every “itis” imaginable.
I see Comparison-itis and his buddy Competetive-itis hanging out in our virtual Facebook hallways.
I remember them from High School and College. Funny, they look the same, they haven’t changed a bit…but I have.

Maybe it’s my age. I’d like to think its the wisdom I’ve accrued. Ha! 

Nevertheless, I’m an observer rather than a participant this time around. My latent competitiveness has woken up, but it knows how that story ends, so it’s behaving more like a sling-shot than an anchor.

These people are brilliant!
With their enthusiasm, they are gifting us with all the answers, and that’s the difference. They have the best sources and ideas, so their posts are becoming gold mines and I’m mining them every day to help in my endeavors.

I do see others in the comments though, that have come down with a horrible case of Comparison-itis.
I suppose a short bout is inevitable.
When you up your game, when you enter the arena, you can’t help but notice where you are in the standings.
There are the true Gladiators, and there are the newbies.
You can feel inferior or inspired. 
I pick the inspired.

Inspiration seems to be the Holistic cure for Comparison-itis.
That virus can’t stand up to all the fresh ideas.
Creative juices flowing and all the new ways of being and thinking are the anecdote.
Try not to look around and feel like you’re not enough, like you’re not doing it right, or “getting it” fast enough!
Become inspired!
If “they” can do it, you can too!
XoxJanet

Live in such a way that you would not be ashamed to sell your parrot to the town gossip.
~Will Rodgers~

I had this post all queued up in my head and then I saw this quote on Sir Richard Branson’s blog…Go figure.
I believe the Universe seeds the air with messages so we can pick them up when we’re open enough to receive. For me that happens driving the car, in the shower, walking the dogs, or at the gym. Those are the times when my guard goes down and my antenna goes up. Consistent yes, convenient no!

Anyway, gossip…gossip…ohhhhh it can sound so delicious, yet be so malicious.
Sadly, it doesn’t stop at middle school. It’s an even snarkier beast as an adult.

The two key components with gossip that make it so hurtful are these:
1) It is often, and by often I mean almost always, NOT TRUE.
2) You would NEVER want it to get back to the subject, most especially not with YOUR name attached.
So right there, you have your filter.
Should you pass it along?
Not unless Barbie herself told you she had a boob job.
Even then, I’m guessing they can speak for themselves.

Think about it, the juiciest gossip is impossible to verify.
Did So and So’s husband really sleep with the nanny? Not unless you saw it with your own eyes. THAT is the only way to know for sure. And if you did, it’s more sad than salacious. It does not need a publicist.

Have you ever been caught on the wrong end of gossip?
Either as the subject or the spreader?
Both of those are entries into the humiliation and shame Hall Of Fame.
I’ve been both. I’m pretty sure if you’re honest and you’ve lived long enough, you have too.
Neither was my proudest moment, but MAN they taught me a lot.
I started to write them here, but then I realized in the telling of their stories, I was gossiping!
So I’ll just have to leave it to your imagination.

Here’s what I want all of us to do.
Just give it a second thought the next time a tasty tidbit is whispered in your ear.
Is it true? Even if it might be, is it for public consumption?
Would we want our name attached to it?
Would we want the parrot to blab?
Who would get hurt in the telling of this?
If it doesn’t stand up to these questions, no matter how sensational…we will walk away.
It’s none of our business.

XoxJanet 

“As you begin to take action toward the fulfillment of your goals and dreams, you must realize that not every action will be perfect. Not every action will produce the desired result. Not every action will work. Making mistakes, getting it almost right, and experimenting to see what happens are all part of the process of eventually getting it right.”
– Jack Canfield

Oh God, here I go again…experimenting, making mistakes, almost getting it right…Crap!

As Monday approaches, which is the day my online business class starts,
I’m getting a stomach ache. Maybe a headache too. Yeah, definitely head ache.

Why you ask? Because of my expectations!
They started off strong, which is par for the course for me.
I devoured all the pre-class curriculum, watched the videos…twice; then I got to the parts I just didn’t understand, and I got frustrated. 
” Go big, or go home!” has often been my battle cry. But that was in the ventures where I knew my shit.
Now, I’m WAYYYYYYYYY out of my league, and I want to go to bed.

That all got me to thinking about expectations. 
I’m expecting everything to be over my head.
I’m expecting that I will not understand analytics, web design, content blah blah, and all that jazz.

I’m expecting to be asked to build a rocket ship from popsicle sticks, some gum and a flashlight.
I don’t understand how televisions work and planes fly. I know it’s something about capturing pixels and aerodynamics, but it’s all just a miracle to me.
So is the internet.
And I’m about to go behind the curtain and see how it all functions.
Then, I’m going to learn how to finagle and manipulate it.
Then I’m going to rule the world! Mwaaaahaaahaa!
Expectations too high?

See? My expectations have run amok. I vacillate between knowing I’m gonna suck, to thinking I’m the next Mark Zuckerberg.
Damn you expectations!
Do you do that too?

I have until Monday to stop being so expectation-ally schizophrenic and get a more realistic grip on them.
Then I need to just be okay being a student.
I can’t be good at all this stuff, because it’s all NEW to me. Some things I’m going to grasp right away, and love them because they make me feel smart.
I expect a great majority of the material will read like Greek to me, and I’m gonna suck.
I’m expecting a lot of tears…Because that’s what I do when I get frustrated.

So stay tuned. This should get interesting, funny and soggy.

This blog will soon become part of a website. I expect it to be…great.
You will all get to witness this transformation in the coming months, and I know you’ll weigh in 🙂
There will be two, maybe three books available. They’ll be compiled from the over 400 blog posts I’ve written so far.
Hey! Email me your preference for the first book, will ya? Atikhome@me.com
1) The poignant posts with a message and the poems.
Or…
2) The more humorous posts.

I know you’ll be honest with me, because…
I expect nothing less.

XoxJanet

in·tu·i·tion
noun
1.
the ability to understand something immediately, without the need for conscious reasoning.
“we shall allow our intuition to guide us”
synonyms: gut feeling (I added that) instinct, intuitiveness

“Can you use that word in a sentence please?”

Isn’t that one of the questions spelling bee participants ask?
I love the sentence Dictionary.com came up with: We shall allow our intuition to guide us.”
Wouldn’t it be great if we all REALLY did that?
I’d like to live in THAT world!

When’s the last time you said: I shouldn’t have trusted my intuition? 
Probably never.
Here’s why: Intuition is your internal GPS. She hold the maps, she has all the directions.
Your intuition has access to all your wisdom, all your talents, all your hopes and dreams.
Even the ones that are buried so deep you don’t acknowledge them or show them to the world.
Then, she has access to wisdom and talents that YOU didn’t even know you possessed.

The thing with intuition is: she’s got your back.
You have to really know that in order to trust her guidance, 
because when you can quiet the bullshit, she will be your North Star.
She will guide you to exactly where you should be.
Where you need to be.
You just need to listen.

Intuition is that voice that keeps repeating.
It is calm but insistent.
You’ll try to talk yourself out of it, there doesn’t seem to be reason to its request.
Sometimes it doesn’t make sense.
OFTEN it doesn’t seem rational.
That’s the thing, it isn’t reasonable, it isn’t rational, it’s intuition.

Mothers have it IN SPADES!
“Check the baby”.
Calm, but insistent.
“Check the baby”.
There is no mother on earth that ignores that voice.
They go check the baby, damn it!

Intuition has conviction, it has that knowing.
I’m going to add that to the definition: having a knowing…just KNOWING something.
There’s never a question mark at the end of the request.
If the thought starts with “should I “? Or “What if”. That’s not intuition.
It says without a shadow of a doubt “Don’t marry that man”.
End of discussion.
Shit! We know that voice is telling the truth, we just don’t want to hear it the night before the wedding.

There are some people that risk looking foolish to obey their intuition.
People get off planes that then crash.
There are the stories of people that didn’t go to work, didn’t go back in the building or were “late” on 911.

“Get that mole checked”
That’s intuition. It’s not asking you, it’s telling you.
Whether it’s telling you to get off a plane, see a doctor or leave the ass hole at the altar. It’s trying to guide you and possibly save your life.

My husband and I follow intuition’s instructions every time we get on the motorcycle. We’ve gotten really good at it; because we want to live to see another day.
On our long distance trips we schedule a stretch break every two hours so our butts don’t permanently fall asleep.
Several times, just because one of us has gotten that “hit”, we have pulled off a road to check a map or get a coffee way ahead of time, and it has saved us.

I can remember two times in France. Once we missed a ten car pile up by about a minute. Another morning we left early, just before a sniper opened fire from a bell tower, on the plaza where we were staying in Tours. If we had stuck to our original time, we would have been having coffee…in that plaza…at that time. Guaranteed.
I’m not kidding, we are probably alive because we deviated from our plan, we both had a gut feeling to leave early.

In March of 2010 on Oahu, my friend was teasing me because I was convinced there was going to be a tsunami. I was drinking umbrella drinks and obsessing, so he Googled the frequency of tsunamis in the Hawaiian islands.
Rare.
Didn’t matter.
I heard the voice that kept saying very calmly, but insistently: there’s going to be a tsunami. If Oahu had been an airplane, I would have grabbed my carry-on and gotten off.
Well, it never occurred, we left the next day and I forgot about it.

The next year my husband and I were invited to Maui to stay with friends.
On the drive from the airport to the condo, there’s that voice again.
“There’s going to be a tsunami”.
So I blurt it out over the bad music on the radio.
We then had a spirited debate on which was more likely to happen, a tsunami or a giant volcanic eruption? We both end up on Team Volcano, because THAT makes sense.
It’s reasonable and rational, unlike a tsunami…and we forget about it. 
I do have to say, I did pay attention to the fact that we were six floors up. I know I wouldn’t have stayed beachfront. No way.
So you can imagine my husband’s face when 10 days later CNN breaks in with coverage of the huge Tsunami in Japan, and a few minutes later all the Islands are put on Tsunami Watch! 
Intuition had my back. She had OUR back.
She just had her dates wrong the first time, she was ahead of herself by one year.
Or was she?
XoxJanet

You all know the feeling. It starts in your stomach, maybe as butterflies.
Travels up to your heart, which then accelerates to Mach 1 pace.
Your face may start to get hot, your hands probably tremble, my lips buzz!
Is that excitement…or fear? 
You gotta be clear!

Almost plowing into the back of the car in front of you on the freeway, and waiting to find out what’s behind door number one, FEEL the same.
Speaking in front of a thousand people, and walking to the electric chair do too!
Your brains got to inform your body, because your body doesn’t know the difference on its own. 
Crazy, but true.
Since the beginning of time, all the same hormones flood your body, trying to get you to run back to the cave.

A good friend’s five year old used to tell her he felt “scared” on the way to Disneyland or a birthday party. He associated all his physical symptoms with the big, loudly barking dog next door. He was terrified of that dog, and so on the ride in the car, to the “happiest place on earth”, he was feeling anything but, labeling his excitement as fear.

Some of us still confuse the two as adults. We probably didn’t verbalize our fear when we were kids, I know I didn’t, it was the 60’s, children were “seen and not heard”….”Martini anyone?”

If your brain lets your body know: Hey, this is a good thing. I choose to be here.
You will save yourself a ton of grief.

I have another friend who hates any kind of surprise. She hates the way that rush of adrenalin feels at the reveal. She’d just as soon be shot out of a cannon, than to endure a surprise party. We had her first and last party at 21. When the lights went on, and we all yelled surprise, she peed her pants, cried hysterically for 15 minutes and then got absolutely shit faced drunk, just to stop the shaking.
Good times!
Excitement or fear?

Here’s the deal, both excitement and fear contain the element of anticipation. 
It is the adrenalin trifecta!
But, YOU have the choice of what label to put on a situation. 

So, you can anticipate the worst, a horrible death in a fiery crash or anticipate a wonderful tropical vacation.
Same plane flight.
You can tell yourself you’re the luckiest person in the world to be winging your way to Hawaii for ten days. You can be so appreciative of air travel and the fact that you can get across the ocean inside of a day, instead of two weeks at sea. You can start to anticipate your first Mai Thai instead of sizing up the people in the exit rows and trying to gauge who in the flight crew will deploy the rafts.

Give your feeling the appropriate name.
Use the anticipation to your benefit.
Let it help your body navigate the rush.

When you’re watching the movie Halloween Part 25, and your heart is ready to jump out of your chest; in order to live through it, you just tell yourself:
This situation isn’t real.
I’m in no danger.
I choose to be here.
That’s the agreement we all make when we walk into a theatre.

I’m embarking on several new things in my life this month.
At times I’m the five year old in the car, on my way to the party, feeling afraid. 
Then I remind myself; that feeling’s not fear, its called excitement.
There’s no danger here. 
I chose these adventures, this anticipation is a good thing.
This planes not going down, and I’m definitely NOT running back to the cave. 
Whew!

XoxJanet

This made me laugh! Happy Sunday!
XoxJanet

Both feet have to leave the ground to leap.
Shit!

….and therein lies the rub.

We seldom feel like we’re ready….it just isn’t the right time…not yet.

What the hell are we waiting for?
An illness?
Divorce?
The empty nest?
More diplomas?
Losing a job?
More zeros in our bank account (Ahhh, now I’m getting warmer) but how many are enough?

How about PERMISSION?
Word from God-on-high that all systems are go, and you’re ready for launch.
That’s what I want.
That’s what we all want.

But you know what you guys? We’ve got that. We have our internal guidance, our intuition, our gut, to let us know when we’re getting close.

We’ve all been there. You get that restless feeling.

You start asking life WAY too many questions.

You feel as if you can’t do that thing you’ve been doing for one-more-minute.

That to me, signals one foot off the ground.

Then I have to suck up every ounce of courage to trust those signals, and
Lift. The. Other. Foot.

Permission is Grace’s secret weapon.

If you give enough value to the signs, the synchronicity, that jumpy little feeling in your belly, and you turn away from the fear and doubt and really show up for yourself; you grant Permission.
Permission’s bodyguards, Faith and Courage, then clear the path for Grace to enter.

Then you know what Grace does?
She lends you her hand and helps you balance…
so you can lift your other foot to leap.

Xox

“The only currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you’re uncool.”
~from the movie Almost Famous~

I love that line. It’s delivered by the disheveled, “uncool” underground DJ played by the late, great Phillip Seymour Hoffman. He drops that little truth bomb on William, the 15 year old who is touring with an up and coming band, trying to capture their story for Rolling Stone magazine.

I can relate to that…now more than ever.
I am the un-coolest blogger in the blogosphere, THAT I know for sure.
I’m not really sure why I got the “hit” to blog, I’d never even read a blog before I 
started my own a year and a half ago. I just got the urge to go public.

Confession: When I look at the other blogger’s sites, I just want-to-die…of un-coolness.

When a blogger “likes” something you write, it is only polite to go check out their site. Even more so if they start to “follow” you. 

Some of these people are kids! But they have got it more together than I EVER will!
15 year old girls have blogs that link to their websites. These websites have so much content, it looks like they cost $30,000! They have paid advertising and products for sale, some have books.
WTF? At 15, I had pimples…end of story.

There are incredible 20 something fashion bloggers with tens of thousands of followers, one Italian street fashionista has over 10 million!
There are all these badass photographers who take amazing photos from exotic locals all over the world.
There are ridiculously talented writers and poets. I mean seriously good.

Then there’s me.
Almost 56 year old me, who lives in the burbs, sings musical theater (gleek), rides on the back of a motorcycle and writes about spirituality, life, and and
occasionally I throw in a poem.
I send these musings out into the world every morning. I post them, I tweet them and Facebook them, ( which I’m sure is SO last Tuesday) wondering if anyone reads them.

But every now and then, something will resonate with one of the “cool kids”
and they’ll email me, (They never leave a comment; too un-cool) to tell me it touched them or made them laugh.
They encourage and push me. They tell me I should vlog (video blog) and suggest I self publish.

Whoa, cool kids, let’s take it slow here, I’m just getting the hang of this stuff.

I do have to say, the spiritual blogosphere in general, has such a generosity of spirit. They are a community that embraces everyone. It’s where the cool kids dane to talk to the uncool, and give great advice. They are big hearted smarty pants’ who talk the talk and walk the walk.
I’m starting B-school with Marie Forleo in March. It’s an online business school that all the cool kids suggested, and which I’ve been stalking for a couple months.

I can’t even imagine it now, but I’m cautiously optimistic that I will be just a smidgen cooler come May.

By then I’ll be privy to what all the cool kids know. 

Note to self: stop using words like “smidgen”. 

I’m afraid I’m just terminally un-cool.

XoxJanet