Life

*Occasionally I’ll be reprising some of the most popular posts from the past. Today there are actually two. My letter to money, and money’s response.
Enjoy!
XoxJanet

Dear Money,
I know our relationship has felt strained these last few years,
but we’ve always been so close and……..I miss you.
My darling Money……I think we should reconcile.
I know it looks like my life’s been all topsy turvy for a while now, and I seem like a bad risk, but I can assure you, I’ve worked really hard on myself and I’ve grown so much.
I feel like I can meet you half way. 
You must admit, you’ve been very elusive, really playing hard to get.
You barely even show your face, and when you do, I turn around and you’re gone.
That hurts, because I can still remember all the good times we had.
All that crazy spontaneous traveling we did together, remember Italy, with the shopping, and long lunches? 
You were always so there for me. I want to make more of those memories!
We even bought a house together for cryin’ out loud!
I think I showed my commitment to the long haul, what about you?
Sure, I’ve made a few mistakes, but who hasn’t!
We had “it” once and I think we can have “it” again.
That kind of relationship doesn’t just disappear.
My choices may have seemed questionable, but now, if you could just stick around for a while, you’d see how they’re all working out for me.
You’ve said in the past that I’m overly sensitive, but you’re the one who’s stayed away for so long…and without even a goodbye.
I’m willing to forgive, forget and move on…together, hand in hand…like the old days.
Take a few days to think about it…….I know how you are about change.

XoxJanet

Money’s Response
Earlier this month you wrote me a note, expressing your desire to reconcile.
My Darling, I never left you, you lost your faith and trust in ME.
Mistakes were made, c’est la vie!
I’m incapable of holding a grudge, yet, you doubt my devotion.
Believe me when I tell you:
I am here to help you.
I am here to support you in your endeavors.
I am trustworthy.
I can be counted on to show up in your life when needed.
There is more than enough of me to go around.
I’ll never let you down.
I want to help you, help others.
Don’t worry about me, I’m here.

Xox

How are you keeping your past alive?
We talked about this on Wednesday night at our group. It was a topic everyone was eager to discuss. It seems there were two reoccurring themes:
A past hurt, or perceived failure or mistake that pays repeated visits to the present; at our invitation. We continue to invite it to lunch or engage in pillow talk in the middle of the night. Its very existence hinges on our continued attention. So it tells us it’s here for our own good. To protect us from further humiliation and shame, it reminds us every day how incredibly flawed we are. It creeps into every decision we make in the present, coloring our perception. It keeps us in pain, feeling unsafe and untrustworthy. 
It is the back seat driver of our lives.

The other way the past stays alive in the present, is in the form of “The Glory Days.” The best times of our life are sadly, behind us. That’s what it tells us. Memories of a better, more carefree, inspired time wash us with nostalgic regret. A golden age where an endless horizon lay ahead. Where we had nothing but time. We felt immortal. Nothing hurt. No bad back or sore shoulder. We took chances, made tons of choices and friends and lived in the moment. Our vacations were epic, our friends were interesting, our bodies were hot and we didn’t even know it. It colors our present with an underlying feeling of melancholy and longing.

Longing for “what was” locks the door on “what is.”

Here’s the thing. 
It’s impossible to drive a car forward, only looking in the rear view mirror.
The past tells you to let IT drive. That’s dangerous.
Let’s let the past advise us. But from far away, maybe Skype, not the back seat. After all, it’s part of what made us who we are.
We don’t want to repeat things that didn’t work out well, but we can’t let that stop us from living. Same with waxing nostalgic for the 90’s. Trust me, it wasn’t better.
The best days of our lives are ahead of us. Time to live in the here and now.

Do you have a situation that keeps the past alive for you? I’d love to know. Does it keep you from enjoying your life, now? I love the comments, tell me about it.

Xox

Be careful of your thoughts, for your thoughts become your words.
Be careful of your words, for your words become your actions.
Be careful of your actions, for your actions become your habits.
Be careful of your habits, for your habits become your character.
Be careful of your character, for your character becomes your destiny.
—Chinese Proverb
Excerpt From: Dr. Habib Sadeghi. “Within.” 

Nope, I don’t have time.
How may times have we all said that? We’re stressed out, trying to eek out fifteen minutes here, an hour there, to get things done.
But, if you’re REALLY honest with yourself, it’s not the truth.
Even worse yet, it can be a self sabotaging belief. A bullshit tape that runs on an endless loop. 24/7.

When I say I don’t have the time for something, what I’m really saying is:
It’s not interesting enough.
It doesn’t sound fun.
It won’t be productive.
What’s in it for me?
I have something better to do.
And the Hall of Famer: It’s just not a priority right now.
Because truth be told, we WILL find the time for the things we want to do.

I seem to find time for Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. I can loose hours to those three punks. I spend maybe ten minutes promoting the blog, and then I get sucked into their devious vortex for an hour of mindless trolling. Kim Kardashian did what!?
You know you do too.
What did we do before social media? It didn’t even exist in its present, obsessive form five years ago. And I still felt a time crunch.

We are all very discerning about what takes us away from the things we love to do.
Like spending time with family.
I was in a cafe the other day and observed a family of four. Sitting around the table, looking down at their phones. ALL of them. No conversation. No interaction. No connection. Not a good use of their time together.

I can lie and convince myself that I don’t have time for a workout and then talk to my sister for an hour or get lost in emails. When I tell that lie, my pants should catch on fire. At least running from the flames would burn some calories.
Pun intended.

I know, it seems like our 24 hour days are really about 18 hours. Unless you’re waiting to leave for a vacation. That day is 100 hours long…….So it’s all perception.

If you feel like you don’t have enough time, that is “lack” mentality. Lack mentality can permeate other areas of your life if you feel it and say it enough.
Case in point.
My husband is a designer/contractor. He is also an amazing manifestor. There’s just one catch. 
The first quarter of this year started slow. He had little stuff going, but nothing big lined up. So he asked the Universe, the Big Boss, for more jobs. Lo and behold, people started calling and emailing like crazy. He had ten proposals to do in two weeks. He started to feel the time crunch. He started to worry about having enough hours to meet with the clients, bid the jobs and write the proposals. All of those things are very time consuming. What if he got them all, then what? How was he going to be able to effectively run all those jobs at the same time? A bit of panic set in. It was very interesting to watch.
He no longer felt the lack of work, but he did feel the lack of time to get things done.
And you know what happened? Nothing. Everything stalled.

Partly from the freaking crazy energy lately, but mostly because:
You can’t ask the Universe for more, and then tell it you don’t have the time.
She hates mixed messages. They piss her off. So, she just stands in the corner, arms crossed, taping her foot impatiently and muttering under her breath: “Ya wanna be busy or ya wanna be a cry baby? Don’t over target, be realistic about what ya can accomplish in one day. I’m here, let me know when you’re ready.”

We have to be vigilant and clean up our energy, our perception and the things we say about time.
He’s working on that now. It’ll all work out. It always does.

To quote the brilliant Marie Forleo: It’s all figuraoutable.
So instead of saying we don’t have the time, let’s say instead: Let me take a look at my schedule, and see what I can figure out. The Universe likes to hear that. She may even take notice, unfold her arms and start to send great things your way.

I want to know, do you struggle with a “lack” mentality? If you’re honest, are there things that waste the precious little time you DO have? Do you agree that it’s all perception? I’d love to hear what YOU think.

Xox

As I write this, I can feel the soft, cool underbelly of the big, older dog snoozing on my feet.
The puppy appears to be asleep except her eyebrows give her away. They signal that she is following my every move. She is plotting another caper and is patiently waiting for me to quit writing, get up, and leave.

“Everything that falls on the floor is MINE!”

That is their credo, their theme song, and the canine unspoken agreement.
If I’d let them get tattoos, that’s what they’d say.
But that statement gives ME a pit in my stomach. It sparks a crusty, old, unkind memory that hits me like a sucker punch.

“Everything that falls on the floor is MINE!”, is a quote is from the cover of a book about dogs.
It’s kinda funny, but it got me to feeling and thinking, which makes me run to start writing. Isn’t it weird how something as innocuous as the title of a dog book can trigger an emotion?

“Everything that falls on the floor is MINE!”
That is a declaration of ownership of…the scraps.
The stuff that is tainted enough that it isn’t fit for public consumption.
It can’t even pass the five-second rule.
Most likely the crap on the floor came off the bottom of someone’s shoe — literally.

“I call it! It’s mine!” That’s fine for Fido, but not for us.

“Everything that falls on the floor is MINE!”
It is the cover page and the first rule in the Dog’s Life Handbook.
Not ours. Our first rule is “Call Your Mother.”

But what about us? How many times have you and I settled for the scraps in life?
From the blouse at Target that is marked down to 99 cents but is missing a button, (which as much as we say we’re going to—we never replace), to accepting pity sex from your ex-boyfriend?

That shitty “bridge” job that was just supposed to get you through the summer?
What happened? It’s five years later, why are you still there?

I’ve been so broke I have lived off scraps. Specifically, days of leftovers salvaged from one meal or my sister’s “doggie bag” from El Toritos. The irony of the name does not escape me.

I drove a piece of shit car that wanted nothing more in its life than to shimmy sideways.

I’ve also settled for the scraps of affection thrown to me in a dying relationship.
I’ve been seated at the table. I’ve enjoyed the love feast. But when I sensed the end, I did not push away and say my goodbyes with dignity. I dove for the scraps.
Ouch. Oh, hi Fido, funny to see you down here.

I have pretty healthy self-esteem, but there have been some glaring lapses.
I wasn’t alone. Gwen Stefani of the band No Doubt had a hit song “Bath Water” during that time.
Part of the chorus being: ‘Cause I still love to wash in your old bath water, Love to think that you couldn’t love another, Share a toothbrush….you’re my kind of man.’  UGH.

At a certain point, I’m gonna say around my mid thirties, I said: no more scraps.
And I meant it.

No more second-hand clothes, no more beat up chairs-full-of-promise fished out of dumpsters. Enough of the stuff left on the curb because it didn’t make the cut at the neighborhood yard sale. Enough of the sloppy seconds from lovers. I was finished being broke, I was done with settling.
I deserved better than that. I deserved the best.
The best love.
The best life.
The best-made plans.

“Everything that falls on the floor is MINE!”
That is my dog’s credo, I’m clear about that now and they can have it.

Tell me, have you ever settled for the scraps?

Carry on,

Xox

“Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof.” (Because I’m happy)
That’s a lyric from the mondo hit “Happy” by Pharrell Williams. Which I sing…at the top of my lungs…in…my…car. Yep that’s me next to you on the 101 fwy. Deal with it, or better yet, sing along.

XoxJanet

You might be waiting for things to settle down. For the kids to be old enough, for work to calm down, for the economy to recover, for the weather to cooperate, for your bad back to let up just a little…
The thing is, people who make a difference never wait for just the right time. They know that it will never arrive.
Instead, they make their ruckus when they are short of sleep, out of money, hungry, in the middle of a domestic mess and during a blizzard. Whenever.
As long as whenever is now.
~Seth Godin~

Happy Weekend!
XoxJanet

Steve Jobs said: You can’t connect the dots looking forward – only backwards. Today it appears that everything I chose to study played a key role in my life and business success. Maybe it was destiny? I prefer to think it was the power of a generalist education helping me pull together disparate areas of knowledge to build a business.

I’m writing this for all the kids getting their college admission/rejection letters right about now, my nephew included. Pretend you dug up a time capsule in your backyard, and this was inside…from your future self. I wish I’d left this for me.

Many of us are under the mistaken impression that there is only one way to the top of the mountain. That mountain being happiness/success. By the way, they are not mutually exclusive as some in the spiritual community might have you to believe.
That is old, dusty, musty, crusty thinking. That is SO 1978.

My father drilled into us kids that finding a job, preferably in his profession, and then staying there 45 years until retirement, was THE way to go. That’s what his father did, and what he and his brother emulated. Lots of hard work and long hours, with little time for family, would lead to your rise up the rungs of the company ladder, and who could ask for a better life?
Uh…all three of us kids? Much to his disappointment. That was SO 1952.

It is not uncommon today for someone to change jobs, especially in the tech fields, every 18-24 months. Things be a movin’ and a shakin’.
My father is doing cartwheels in his grave.
You know what he thought of people like that? “Jack of all trades, master of none.”
That was SO 1960.

What about this little nugget. It is imperative that anyone who wants to succeed in life get a college degree.
Haven’t we ALL heard that? Guess who didn’t finish college?
Mark Zuckerberg, Bill Gates, and my buddy, Steve Jobs. I can call him that, because he has a seat at my imaginary round table. More on that another time.
Most entrepreneurs get bored and annoyed with school. They are also terrible employees. They can be fuck-ups early on, later maturing into great leaders.
The schools that give them honorary degrees and invite them to give commencement addresses, would not admit them as students today.
I’m not advocating dropping out, I’m just sayin’…
The average net worth of billionaires who dropped out of college, $9.4 billion, is approximately triple that of billionaires with Ph.D.s, $3.2 billion. Even if one removes Bill Gates, who left Harvard University and is now worth $66.0 billion, college dropouts are worth $5.3 billion on average, compared to those who finished only bachelor’s degrees, who are worth $2.9 billion. According to a recent report from Cambridge-based Forrester Research, 20% of America’s millionaires never attended college.
~Wikipedia~

So that kinda blows that theory to hell.

Check out the big brain on Janet, with all the statistics. 😉
Thank you copy/paste.

What Steve (Jobs) was insinuating in the quote at the top, was that the more well rounded individuals may have a leg up on the one way mountain climbers.
They definitely have more fun on the way up. The student that graduates at the top of his class may not end up being as successful as the guy voted: Most likely to live in a van, down by the river.

If you study music, it can facilitate a career in mathematics and physics.
Theatre arts backgrounds help with public speaking and group leadership skills.
Foreign travel aids in resiliency, problem solving, risk taking and general “up for anythingness.”
Being artistic and learning other languages forms new neuro pathways that keep the brain elastic, open to new concepts and creatively innovative.
That is a generalist education. Knowledge in many fields.

So kids, those of us in our 40’s ,50’s and 60’s that were the theatre geeks, the artsy fartsy, free thinking, good with our hands, crafty, able to take stuff apart and put it back together and have it work better than the original, (I’m talking to you, Jim). We paved the way, with Steve, for the appreciation of a generalist education as a stepping stone to success.
You’re welcome.

Tell me about your road to success and happiness. Was it a straight line?
Did you take detours along the way that helped? Please, start a conversation in the comments below.

XoxJanet

According to astrologists, we are in for quite a ride the next two weeks. To me the energy feels like a speedball. It either makes me shaky and speedy, like 10 cups of high octane Italian espresso or so sleepy I’m afraid to drive or operate heavy machinery, like my sonic care toothbrush.
Things feel incredibly tense, there could be some back biting and sharp tongues.
Maybe that’s just at my house.

Regardless, they’ll be lots of revisiting of painful situations for healing. Lots of clearing out and letting go…you know, April. April, for me, has always been a “mutha” of a month. Powerful change, ego adjustments, clearing, break ups, deaths…all the fun stuff I can’t stand.

“There can be a deep shift or psychological adjustment to an old, sad emotional space in your soul today. Work with any power struggles to help shift the energy.”
AnneOrtelee-

Oh goodie.
That was one of the tidbits from the highlight reel of my life for the next two weeks.
After taking in all this doom and gloom information, I decided to just “be advised” and go on with life as usual. I will try to breathe through the shit, and lend a hand to those that get stuck in it. That someone could be me, so I decided to wear my waders.

Here’s what has happened so far this week; It’s Wednesday….Yeah.
Three years ago, with the demise of my store, and all the legal hassles that followed, while we were negotiating the rent settlement with the landlord, he put a lien on our home. Total asshat move and just another lesson learned while swimming with the sharks. Once all the judgements were satisfied, I wanted the lien removed. ASAP. I heard nothing. I would periodically email, or ask my attorney the status, but to be honest here, when I didn’t get the paperwork or hear back, I feared I would have to take more legal action, and I just wasn’t up to it. Swimming with sharks is exhausting and demoralizing and I needed a rest.
It has been two years now, and it’s been hanging over my head. You know, that thing that you know you HAVE to do, but the thought of it makes you sorry you’re a grown up and you feel like you want to puke?
So I composed another email to the principal asshat. The one that I’ve had the hardest time forgiving. I squirmed through the whole process. It was short and to the point: Remove the lien from my home…Now…Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter.
He waited a few days, and yesterday sent all the paperwork and PDF’s that showed he had done it the day I asked; years ago. My less than competent lawyer never filed it with the county. Note to self: Lawyers on contingency are always busy with the paying clients. My case was filed under “small potatoes” and treated as such, buried in dirt….we’ll label that Lesson #1124.
So with a bit of minor paper shuffling, I AM DONE WITH THAT.
That sad, sucky situation has been revisited…and cleared. What a freaking relief.

So that was the high yesterday. The low happened in the afternoon.
Our little four month old Boxer-shark puppy had been acting lethargic for a couple of days. We tried to cover our glee with concern. She was docile and mellow, and it was heaven, but it wasn’t right. She stayed home with me yesterday, just sleeping and re enacting the deathbed scene from “Terms of Endearment.” Big sad eyes, stoically smiling through her pain. At 3pm I became the mother from that movie, when suddenly I had to rush her to the vet. She had woken up limp and shaking, and unable to walk on her left leg. I drove the three miles to the Vet in two and a half minutes, yelling back at her limp, sad face to hold on. Once there, I found out our little tripod was running a very high fever. They couldn’t see much in the X-rays. They couldn’t explain the high fever. So…to the specialist we went. My husband, who loves dogs more than people, joined me, and we rushed her, in rush hour, to the Spendy Vet. Spendy Vet is where you go at 3am, or drive a hundred miles an hour to get to. It costs minimum $500 to walk in the door, and it means you have a very sick animal.
We had done this exact drive to this exact facility in 2007 with our old boxer girl Penelope. She just started one day to have horrible seizures. Pancreatitis was suspected…go see the specialists. We took her for tests, and the next day, when we went to visit her, we were told the prognosis was so bleak, we had no choice but to put her down. It was so unexpected and traumatic. I’ll never forget it. Either will my husband. He told me on the drive over yesterday, that he purposely avoids that section of Sepulveda Blvd, because he can’t stand to see that building. The wound is still too fresh. And here we are, on our way there, with our sick baby puppy.
We were only there an hour total and the situation couldn’t have been more different than before. Yes, she was really sick, but they assured us, she was so young and going to be fine. Everyone was petting her and kissing her, and the doctor owned boxers, so he received my husbands seal of approval. Which is very hard to come by. When they called early this morning, her fever had broken and she was in all her wild puppiness once again.
So, we revisited a VERY sad and painful situation, going back to the scene of the crime, so to speak, and had a completely different and actually lovely outcome.
Maybe my husband can stop his self inflicted detours and drive past that building now. That’s a huge healing.

If this is what the energy is bringing, I think I can do this. So far so good. It does feel like a speeding train and I want to put my big Fred Flintstone foot out and slow this puppy down. But that’s highly unadvisable. 
These are yucky, sucky, sticky, painful situations that needed clearing. It feels shitty, until you get to the other side. Easy for me to say today, let’s see what happens the next two weeks.
Hey, nice thing is; we’re all in this together.

Are you revisiting your own painful situations for clearing? How is this big energy affecting you? I’d love to hear about it in the comments below.

XoxJanet

What are you like when you enter a relationship? From personal to professional? Do you put your best food forward? The one with the impeccable pedicure and the Gucci sandals? Only to reveal your other side once that perfect foot is in the door?
You know, the callused hoof with nails like a sloth, stuffed inside Uggs? Is that fair? Did you misrepresent?

I had 14 pairs of gorgeous matching bras and panties back in the day. They were all flowers and lace, smelled like lavender and wrapped in tissue paper. I had them in order, from first date, to seduction, to weekend trip away together. I would rotate them until the deal was sealed. Until we were a couple, which meant that I had an automatic date on Saturday night. After that, what the poor guy saw were the tan cotton Haines, white granny panties, or tattered old G strings. With a plain black bra. No more pretty, frilly, matchy, matchy.
TMI? Nope. Just TM…Total misrepresentation!

Our stepmother was all platinum cotton candy hair, false eyelashes and kind, loving, nurturing words. Glenda the good witch.
Until our father married her. The last champagne glass hadn’t been cleared when she demonstrated her true nature. Out came the pointy black hat while she cackled her admission of hating children. My brother, sister and I gulped and waved as she rode around the room on her broomstick. “This is gonna suck.”
My dad just looked bewildered as he realized he had been sold a bill of goods. Total misrepresentation.

I had a friend in the eighties who lied to get a managerial position. He had never managed anyone, anywhere, anyhow. Day one he realized he was in WAY over his head when he was ushered into a large boardroom for introductions and to lead the Monday morning sales meeting. He excused himself to “get his briefcase”, commando crawled to the elevator, jumped in his car and raced to the nearest bar and got shitfaced.
Total misrepresentation.

Why does that happen? Can’t we be who we REALLY are and get what we want?

Why do we only wear the good undies in the beginning, lie to get the wrong job, imply we love children when we don’t? When we misrepresent, we start off the whole relationship on the sloth foot; in disguise.
I’ve had it happen to me, and I felt mislead and disappointed.
Realistically, we can’t show ALL our warts at the start, but couldn’t we be the BEST versions of our flawed selves? Like warts with a bit of concealer?
After all, no one’s perfect. I know that to be true!

So I’d advise that we all be our magnificent, perfectly imperfect selves.
Wear normal clean underwear on dates. He knows he’s not dating a Victoria Secret model, he likes the sensible girl.
Please don’t tell Mr Right you love his kids when you don’t. That’s just wrong on so many levels. They’ll be a guy who’s a better fit for you. I promise.
Try not to exaggerate your accomplishments on your resume. We all do, I know.
But if you’ve never skydived, don’t say you have. THAT will be a very hard one to get yourself out of.
Let’s not misrepresent. Be patient. All the right everything will come along.

XoxJanet

Have you misrepresented yourself? Even just a little bit? How did it work out? Tell me in the comments below