Life

You know I’m all about the YES these days. But sometimes there’s a NO on your way to YES!

Check this out. I love it.

Carry on,
xox

ON SAYIN NO.
By~SETH GODIN

~Seth Godin

She told me she didn’t do it, but with my keen observational skills, the fact that I have opposable thumbs, a larger brain, and language (I know some words) — I knew she was lying.
Plus she was the only other “person” in the house.

The conversation went something like this:
ME: Hey, you. Where YOU going so fast and what did you do to the rug?
DOG: What rug?
ME: The one in a pile at your feet.
DOG: I don’t see a rug.
ME: Seriously?
DOG: Oh, that. Is that a rug? Because it looks more like…
ME: It was until your track and field event ran through here.
DOG: Track and field. That’s a good one. You should write a humor…
ME: Why do you lie so goddamn always?
DOG: It came with the cute. A package deal. You know, puppies and toddlers and twenty-year-old models named Raoul.

She was right. I straightened the rug feeling duped once again. If there’s a grudge in here somewhere…  I’m holding it.

Back in my jewelry days, I had a limey friend. He was unattractively attractive in that way that some men can be. You know, so ugly they’re sexy. A guy whose British accent was so thick that if you got any on you—it would stick and eat through you, like alien slime, taking with it any and all traces of your common sense.

Everything he said was melodious and beguiling— a perfectly wrapped gift to my ears.
It was also a lie.
He was one of the slimiest characters you could ever hope to NOT meet, but everything he said sounded like poetry.

Like a shitty smack-talk, lying sack-talk sonnet.

He once told me to “sod off” when I caught him in yet another lie. And even though I had no idea what that meant —I wanted to do it. Immediately. AND it made me a little hot all day — I’m not gonna lie.

So, lies. They come in all shapes and sizes. Tiny, white, “I didn’t eat the last cupcake”, ones — to giant, wtf, “I can be and do whatever you think you need. I’m here to save you”, delusional ones.
In other words, everything that comes out of a politician’s mouth.

Unfortunately, they become acceptable when they have a cute puppy face, a thick foreign accent, or apparently a shit ton of money, a stage to stand on, and a camera pointed in their face.

I don’t now about you, but it’s beginning to feel like we’ve all been slimed.

I, for one, am pretty sick of this shit. I’m not falling for it anymore. Is that because I’m old? Or too smart? Or did the slime wound finally heal and I regained my common sense?
I feel like I can’t be lied to for one more minute!

Not by the lying limey with the lilting language, (Okay, you gotta love that).

Not by the cuddly and cute but corrupted canine (I’m on a roll).

Not by any of the plotting, placating and prevaricating politicians.(Bazinga!)

Can we just call foul; tell ‘um to “sod off”; take our balls and go home?

What do YOU think? Ever had anyone lie to your face? How many times before you got wise to it?

I’ve gotta go now. I need to teach my dog that it’s not okay to lie. I’m going to ground her AND take her phone away.

Carry on,
xox

I don’t fail often but when I do, its alway been BIG. I don’t mess around.
One early marriage,
One ‘all our eggs in one basket’ business,
One interim jewelry job.

Wham, bam, failed.
But it looks like I’m in pretty good company. And if things aren’t looking like they’re going your way right about now — then so are you.

Carry on!
xox

I thought you might like this book on those nights when you can’t sleep because it seems as if the world is spinning backwards and your life doesn’t resemble anything remotely familiar, comforting, or worthy of continuing, and you’re asking yourself “what the fuck?” over and over until it sounds like whatthefuck, whatthefuck, whatthefuck, which sounds like a tiny town in Uzbekistan or one of the other ‘stans’ and that makes you want kebob, but it’s too late to get kebob at this hour, and then that’s all you can think about, and you’re wondering why you didn’t just order kebab before midnight…and you feel like a failure… and the cycle starts all over again. Or maybe that’s just me.

Pema Chodron Fail Again, Fail Better

http://www.amazon.com/Fail-Again-Better-Advice-Leaning/dp/1622035313/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1457227800&sr=8-1&keywords=fail+again+fail+better

Have a great weekend and Carry on, 

xox

I did something randomly funny today. I ran to brush my teeth before an early Skype session with a pal this morning.
Not that I didn’t need to. It was half past eight (which everyone knows is the Universal deadline for maintaining oral hygiene). And even the dog had weighed in, turning her head to the side and making a face as I laid a big wet one on her with my coffee infused morning breath.

But no one can smell your breath over the computer (or in space, because space is a vacuum), anyway, the irony of it still makes me laugh.

I do stuff like that. A lot.
I shave my armpits for dentist appointments and photo shoots. I wear false eyelashes…even on Thursdays. I use my turn signal in deserted alleyways, and I clean the kitchen before the cleaning lady comes on Saturdays. Now I can add brushing before Skyping.

Why do we do the things we do?

Are they habits? Born out of a sense of maintaining order and normalcy?
The turn signal certainly is. My left-hand makes the decision before my brain ever has a chance to intervene.
God knows there are lurkers in dark abandoned alleys and these lurkers, deserve to know, just like the rest of us that I will be turning left when I reach the end.

Or not. Like I said, it’s a habit.

Are we aiming to please? And whose pleasure are we after?
Someone once said that “Women dress for other women”. I don’t know about that. I always felt like that was said by a man who hated what his girlfriend was wearing. HE told her to show more cleavage and that ‘those jeans made her butt look big’ but SHE threw on a baggy sweater, hiding her tits — and wore the jeans anyway.
To rave reviews.
Or, no one even noticed.
Both are wins if you ask me.
She did it for herself. She paid a small fortune for the pants, she was already wearing the eyelashes, and it was Thursday.

Mindfulness. (Which means thinking about doing stuff before you do it.)
I write about it and I TRY to practice it but honest to God, most of the things I do are because I strive to offend the least amount of people in the shortest amount of time — and dentists have a thing about armpit stubble. They just do. It’s a thing.

That being said, who do I clean the kitchen for? I’m going to say I do it for ME. My husband says I do it to impress Maria.
Uh, no. Maria is now completely blind in one eye and only has partial sight in the other. My blind maid is impossible to impress.
I Comet the sink because Maria doesn’t believe in Comet. She also doesn’t believe in bleach, removing fingerprints from stainless steel or stacking plates in a way that doesn’t look like a bunch of drunken Greeks just threw a wedding. She IS a wiz at all things related to dishwashers and dog hair (she showed me the rubber gloves trick) so she can stay.

If I practiced mindfulness before absolutely everything I did, I’d go mad. So if I’m advocating mindfulness — I guess I’m advocating madness. Good to know.

I think it’s pretty safe to say that most things I do are just to raise my own “joy ceiling.”

I brushed my teeth before the Skype for my own benefit. (I didn’t want to inadvertently gag), and out of respect for my friend I suppose.

I wear the false eyelashes during the week to sit and write because I love them. Not for other women. Not for anyone but me. Although…if a producer for Real Housewives of Studio City suddenly showed up—I’m camera ready.
And I have fresh breath.
And a sparkling clean sink.
And medium pit stubble. (I go to the dentist next week.)

Who do you do things for? Are you always mindful of what you do? Can you teach me that trait?

Carry on,
xox

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!

I overheard a woman in Trader Joe’s today and I had to stop and pretend I was looking with great interest at the ingredients on the side of the microwave macaroni and cheese.

Trader Joe’s is an eavesdropper’s paradise. Especially after school gets out and always around the microwave comfort food.

She had a seven-year-old girl with her, Sophie, (presumably her daughter), and she was on her cellphone with someone who, after listening for several minutes to her conversation, is a saint.
Literally.
The Vatican has spoken. This person earned it!
I’m guessing a sister, best friend, or telemarketer.

Anyhow, I was riveted to her rant because the nature of it was well, so absurd — and I could totally relate.

She was going on and on about the dangers of camping. Like her kids were Tributes in the Hunger Games.

Hypothermia. “What if it gets below fifty? We don’t have the arctic down bags, only the light down summer bags. I mean, I could bundle the kids up with hoods, socks, and gloves in their bags…oh, yes, they’ll be in a tent…”

Sand fleas, (so, like the Mensa member that I am (not) I surmised a beach campout. “Sam had bites all over his privates last summer.” Ouch. And TMI.

Fire. “Josh is gonna have his hands full. What if Lizzie runs into the fire.”
I’m no expert here, but I think both Josh AND Lizzie have a bigger problem on their hands if she’s running into fire. And yes, camping could turn poor Lizzie into a human s’more. So, I’m with the worried lady, no camping for Lizzie.

Wait. Maybe Lizzy is a dog. Oh, that’s even worse.

Ocean. “I heard there’s gonna be high surf. What happens if the waves are so big the kids can’t go in the water? Then what’ll we do?”

Oh, I don’t know, play cards or board games, build sand castles, run into fire, you know, the normal kid stuff.

OMG Lady, seriously? You are a piece of work! Oh, and can you talk louder? I don’t want to miss a minute!

But by this time, I’d lingered too long. I was skirting the edges of stalker-ville so I moved on. But grudgingly. I was worried about Asbestos Lizzie the fire-walker.

The woman did leave me with a parting worry as I scurried into the cookie aisle.
“Sophie, don’t run with the pretzels in your mouth. What if you fall and choke to death.”

And…scene.

I’m not a worrier by nature but if I do go there if I start with the “what if’s” then I’m on the train, miles down the track before I even realize it.

And it gets even more ridiculous as it goes along. You know what I’m talking about!

After the 1993 Northridge earthquake, I was terrified to be anywhere besides home (preferably under my bed), in the event of an aftershock.
I could “what if” myself into a full-blown panic attack.

What if I’m at the movies? Dark, crowded, scary as shit.
What if I’m in the shower? Naked, wet, embarrassing as shit.

The one that could send me over the edge was:
What if I’m sitting at this light, caught in bumper to bumper traffic, STUCK UNDER A FREEWAY OVERPASS!
Trapped, crushed, flat as shit.

I would go out of my way to avoid an overpass. If it looked like I was going to be stuck underneath I’d gun it and jump over cars like fucking Vin Diesel. I’d lay on my horn and make people move out-of-the-way. I came thisclose to causing accidents and hurting myself. I was Lizzie looking for fire.

Eventually, (like three years later), I realized that all those “what if’s” never happened and I started to lighten up. But even now, if I think about it when I’m sitting there, it makes my butt cheeks clench.

“What if” is imagination gone awry and once you board that train you may as well find the bar-car and liquor up because it’s nearly impossible to slow down a speeding train.

Well, maybe Vin Diesel can, or The Rock, or that little firecracker, Lizzie. Apparently NOTHING scares her!

Are you a “what if” worrier?  What are some of your best “what if”s”?

Carry on,
xox

My husband is a gem. He is a prince of a man. A tender-hearted soul who adores dogs, good food and anything with an internal combustion engine.
Okay, now that I’ve made that clear let’s get real.
He can also be an asshole.

But, hey, show me the short list of who isn’t.
Plus, I said ‘can be’ —not ‘IS an asshole’.
That’s a VERY big distinction and one that will probably save my marriage.
He has his moments, but then again, don’t we all.

He is also a procrastinator.
Big time. A professional. It is such a finely honed skill of his, refined and practiced all these many years, that he is a MASTER Procrastinator.
He could teach it at the college level.
At Harvard.
Sir Raphael of the Bertolus, Professor of Procrastination.

Now you may be worried that he’ll read this and get angry. He will, and he will — in about a month. That leaves me plenty of time to practice my apology and cook him a nice dinner.

So, am I writing just to bag on my adorable hubster? Yes. And NO.

You see, this is all relevant because he’s surprised me lately. He’s taken on a new “ator”.
He has become The Validator.
Validation is just this side of a compliment, so I think he’ll get to keep his *“I’m a Frenchman, The French don’t give compliments” card.

Just the same, he’s been showering me and everybody around him with the gift of validation and it sounds something like this:

HUB: “I told Matt that I was very happy with the fact that he’s treating himself to a nice, new motorcycle, you know he works really hard AND he takes care of his brother.”

ME: “Wow. That was nice of you.”

The following week,
HUB: “When I had lunch with Peter the other day I mentioned how impressed I am with him. He always seems to make the best, most measured and uncompromising business decisions. He’s a pleasure to observe.”

ME: “Wait, What? You said that to his face? Did he choke on his steak sandwich?”

So, Today…
ME: “Thank GAWD we didn’t run into anybody at lunch. It’s a miracle. I look like a fart smells. I have this cold so my entire face is a chapped disaster, my hair is filthy and I smell like sour feet.

HUB: “I really like that you can go out in public and not care if you’re all dolled up. You’re like Janet—Unplugged. That’s really great because when you DO get fixed up, it’s such a startling contrast that everybody realizes how good you clean up.” (OUCH. And Yeah! Okay, it’s not perfect but I got the gist.) *SEE HE GETS TO KEEP HIS CARD.

ME: You are…that is just so…Was that a compliment? I think it was. No, wait, it was that validation thing you’ve been doing lately.
It needs some polish but I like it!

Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to — The Validator!
Which makes so much sense to me because he is such a silent observer of the human condition, only I guess now he’s decided to offer us all some validation on the wanky-wonky way we’re just trying to live our lives.

I think more people could use validating. Don’t you my beautiful, smart and loyal tribe?

Carry on,
xox

Let’s be serious here. I think this is a really important question to ponder since I know we all have one. You’ll get what I mean in a minute.

Who is that person that derails you? Your harshest critic personified. Not necessarily just that voice in your head, but an insecurity that has taken on real flesh and blood to become your saboteur.

Danielle La Porte admitted on a recent podcast with Brene Brown, that in the past hers was the Silicon Valley dude who’s sitting in the front row of a talk she’s giving, wearing a $700 hoodie, not giving a rat’s ass about who she is or what she’s saying. “He thinks I’m too woo-woo, too flakey. I can see him and I can tell he can’t wait for me to shut up so he can get the hell outta there.”
Off. The. Rails.
Saboteur 1
Danielle  0

Brene’s saboteur was any academic colleague.
With twenty-something years in academia, she can spot her nemesis in a hot second: Arms crossed with the prerequisite scowl. Academics want hard facts. They want words, no pictures. They don’t trust anything heartfelt as ‘fact’ and vulnerability, Brene’s wheelhouse, is well, it’s better left to Super Soul Sunday — don’t call it hard research.
Big shame happens in that space (another Brene Brown specialty).
Off. The. Rails.
Saboteur 1
Brene      0

Stand-up comedians can tell you exactly where the ONE person who wasn’t laughing was sitting.

Actors on stage have literally stopped the show to confront the guy who’s on his cell phone.

When I’m in the middle of telling or reading a story I’ve written and the listener yawns or sees something shiny and changes the subject, that sabotages me — every time.
Clearly I’m a bore’ I lament to myself. I take it personally. It can be a stranger or my best friend. It is often my husband — It was ALWAYS my Dad.

We all feel like we’re being judged and not only that — their reaction confirms that somehow — we’re not enough.

Brene Brown had a great suggestion. She says to her critic, “Hey, you can look at me however you want. You can judge me all day long. I know you and I know your story. Everybody has a story that would break your heart,” she goes on, “Even the Silicon Valley dude. And then they armor it up. What I’ve learned is to never take on a job or a project JUST to win over this critic, this saboteur.”

Amen sister.

That, my tribe, is the takeaway. Well, one of them anyway.
Don’t waste one moment of your precious life trying to win over the saboteur.

You ARE good enough. Better than good enough, you’re the best YOU on the planet!

Don’t read your reviews, even on Yelp, especially on Yelp, and DO NOT listen to the haters.
Haters gonna hate.

I want to hear from YOU but I don’t want any comments unless they’re nice and by-the-way, I saw you yawning.
Carry on,
xox

If you like writers, and who doesn’t, Check out the Beautiful Writers Podcasts on iTunes, they’re awesome.

Listening and talking to the people around me recently and also, living my own damn life, it is evident we are ALL experiencing this to one degree or another. I love and agree with everything Tosha wrote and of course, I added a few words of my own in (parenthesis).
Carry on,
xox

THE PRE-ECLIPSE SENSE of UTTER SUSPENSION ~ by Tosha Silver

I wonder how many of you are feeling this?
It can be common as we go into the March month of eclipses (the first one on March 8 and the second one March 23). In the 30 days before big turning-point eclipses (i.e. NOW) an eerie ‘anticipatory stillness’ can arrive.

You sense something is around the bend, but it’s not Time yet.
The month before has much to do with shedding, releasing, saying No to those things you know in your heart are neither needed nor right. Letting go of what’s been outgrown, sometimes without ANY idea what will ‘replace’ it. (Deciding what from your past will come along with you into your future — Booyah!)

Decluttering your spaces and your psyche.
(Otherwise known in my house as ‘Hazeling’).
You’re literally making room for the next Divine plan to arrive. You may even feel like NOTHING (Zero, zilch, nada), is happening in your life at all and you’ve come to a total dead end. But it’s like that quote, don’t put a period where god only has a comma or maybe a semi-colon:)

If you’re feeling any of these things, don’t worry! It can very much be the clearing of the ‘container’ before the re-filling which often comes either with the eclipses themselves or in the month or two after. (Not to get too scatological on you but “clearing’ can also look like allergies, a bad cold or a stubborn cough, diarrhea, puking and in other breaking news: dumping the chump).

Even the I Ching has a similar line about the cauldron that must be turned over to be cleaned of ‘the old’ before used again for the new meal.(But leave a little bacon grease, just sayin’).

I am feeling all this so STRONGLY myself. (Ditto kiddo)
All I can say is I just feel so damn grateful to know to sit tight, clear out, get needed rest, keep releasing and allowing, and open to the what’s still unseen but arriving. Actually, often in the month before eclipses, you spend a lot more time saying No than Yes! (You’re actually saying YES to saying No! What?)

The Yes comes later :))

Anyone else relate?

‪#‎ToshaSilver‬ ‪#‎LivingOO‬
http://toshasilver.com