inspirational

Earthquake Life Shuffle

Earthquake Life Shuffle

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

Don’t try to win over the haters; you’re not the jackass whisperer. ~Brene Brown~

Don't try to win over the haters; you're not the jackass whisperer. ~Brene Brown~

Enough said…Happy Sunday!

The Virtual Hug

The Virtual Hug

I just was left a message on my phone, from my darling niece.
She is currently deep into her post-graduate studies in New York, and since I live in LA it’s been months since we’ve seen each other.
I miss her.

Now, if you had asked me if she ever gave me a moments thought, other than when I’m not sitting across from her at her mom’s dinner table, I’d have said: Hell no!
But I was wrong. And I don’t mind being wrong…in this instance.

Let me just describe this virtual hug, because it was delicious.
It was so delicious that I’m going to use all of its ingredients to craft my own and I’m going to surprise hug someone. That’s how nice it was!
You should do it too.

Timing: not too early, not too late. Those calls are fraught with anxiety and just annoying.
You always think: Uh oh, aunt Barbara died. Mid morning is good.

One large scoop of warmth: Make sure this is pure organic warmth, not that imitation stuff.

Tone of voice: Very important. not rushed. Not like you’re jumping out of a cab or racing to a hair appointment. Slow and steady.

Just a dash of well-chosen words, don’t ramble. Rambling just confuses people.
Remember, this is a virtual hug. Can’t be too short (insincere) or too long (awkward).

Mix all these ingredients gently into a phone message.
Serves—All

I think a message is preferable. Pick a time you know they can’t answer.
It wouldn’t have been AS effective if I’d picked up, but hey, a hugs a hug right?
But, the surprise of listening to it later is part of the whole virtual hug experience.

Seriously, she just said: I hope your day is going well, just sending you a big warm hug. Know that I’m thinking of you and I wished we talked more, I love you and have a beautiful Friday.

Short. Sweet. Delicious.

Let’s all do it.
I encourage you
No, I challenge you,
No, I double dog dare you.
To virtually hug somebody this weekend.

XoxJanet

Pivoting At The Turning Point

Pivoting At The Turning Point

“I found that every single successful person I’ve ever spoken to had a turning point and the turning point was where they made a clear, specific, unequivocal decision that they were not going to live like this anymore. Some people make that decision at 15 and some people make it at 50 and most never make it at all.”
– Brian Tracy

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

Comparison-itis

Comparison-itis

<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

Do Your Soul’s Work

Do Your Soul's Work

Gossip

Gossip

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 

Faith— A Poem

Faith

Faith 
Some days my faith is huge and bold,
So large an ocean cannot hold.
Then other days, it’s all dried up,
just a drop in the bottom of a paper cup.

I vacillate between the two.
Fate waits to drop the other shoe.
Then luck comes by with his friend chance,
this is my lifetime’s little dance.

Some days an ocean, some days a cup,
I stay the course, I won’t give up.
I play the game, my heart is true,
with faith as my partner, how about you?
XoxJanet

Finding Peace

Finding Peace

Examining Expectations

 Examining Expectations

“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

Hi, I’m Janet

Mentor. Pirate. Dropper of F-bombs.

This is where I write about my version of life. My stories. Told in my own words.

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