Life

I LOVE This!

Have you ever given that much thought?
The fact that we’re trying to maintain our balance on a planet made mostly of liquid, that is spinning at 1000 mph? Then imagine that big wet blue ball hurdling through space at 67,000 mph.
No wonder I fall down so much. Just thinking about it makes me wanna hurl.

I know science says it all has to do with centrifugal force and gravity and stuff.
But I think it’s a miracle.
This Goldilocks habitat, in the middle of a vacuum. How did I get so lucky?
When I contemplate all the places, all the gin joints in all the towns, in all the worlds, where I could have ended up. I must have drawn the long straw, because I could have been born as a gnat on the ass of a Wookie.

It’s my belief that we volunteered to come here at this time in Earth’s history.
We waited in line. We knew things wouldn’t be easy. But we knew they wouldn’t be boring either. It would be a time of great change, and we knew we could make a difference. It would be a challenge to fit all of our magnificence into a body. It’s uncomfortably tight at times. Like squeezing into two sizes too small skinny jeans.
And those emotions! How the hell do they work?
They looked really fun from an outsider’s perspective.

But the beauty. My God, the beauty.
Purple mountains majesty, trees of green and sky’s of blue.
I’m in awe whenever I see an elephant or a whale, or a wild wolf. Watching hummingbirds in my backyard or starlings flying in formation.
The smell of cut grass, and orange blossoms and puppies.
Those are just a few of the things that help me maintain my balance here.

I KNOW we all came in with a purpose. God, or whomever, does not make extra people. That’s not the way the Universe works.
No one and no thing is superfluous. And all life is connected.
Remember that the next time you’re feeling lonely, unsettled and out of balance.

Then open your eyes and look around. Take a deep breath and realize how freakin’ lucky you are. How lucky we ALL are.
Then get to work, you with your mad skills.

XoxJanet

Do you have lists, folders or a bulletin board full of things you desire?
I do. At my store I had an entire wall of cork behind the desk. It was 11 feet high. The entire surface was covered with pictures, cards, swatches, anything and everything I loved. Except for the very tippy top, because if I could reach it standing on my chair, so be it. If I had to get the ladder; it didn’t make the cut. Too lazy.

I dream big. Always have, always will.
I believe EVERYTHING is obtainable.
The extraordinary things I covet and the pictures I collect are just reminders for me.
I want it all!
Then reality lands on my head. And while he messes my hair, he whispers in my ear this loaded question:
Are you willing to do what it takes?
We all know deep down what’s required to achieve our dreams.
What changes, course corrections, sacrifices, hard work and amount of commitment will deliver them to us.
But will we only reach as high as the chair will take us or will we get off of our asses and get the ladder?

Are you willing to do what it takes?
We can ask that question of ANY situation. If we do, often the answer will be: not now, or I’m not ready, or flat-out NO.
Then we have no one to blame but ourselves when something slips through our fingers and that’s no fun.
Blame comes in handy. It deflects the shame.

Sometimes you think you know what you’re willing to do, but if you’d really known what it would take, you’d have packed your bags and moved to Siberia.

When I decided to buy a house I knew I had to put an end to my frivolous spending.
I was making good money and buying everything that wasn’t nailed down. I was a hoarder of all the finest things in life. But I could not continue to be that girl AND own a home. Not unless I learned how to turn shoes into gold.
I was sick and tired of greasing Uncle Sam’s palm with my tax money, and listening to my upstairs neighbor’s terrible music and bad headboard rhythm during sex.

I wanted a house, and I wanted it in a year.
I was 39 years old. Time was a wastin’.
But…Was I willing to do what it would take?
It had to be drastic. I needed to save $40,000 in twelve months. I formulated a plan, and jumped. Are you seeing a pattern in my life? I am.

I moved out of my 3000 square foot rented duplex, and put everything in storage. Then my two Siamese cats, their giant cat tree, and 1/3 of my clothes, moved into a 10 x 10ft. bedroom at my sisters with her husband and my two-year old nephew.
It was a toddler/cat free-for-all for this childless, terminally single girl.
Did I also mention that my 7 minute commute turned into one hour each way?
Oh yeah, now THAT’S commitment.
All the sacrifice, all fur balls and midnight cat fights paid off. I did manage to move out after exactly one year. It was a good thing too. My sister was four months pregnant with my niece by then and was going to need MY room.

As I write this I’m sitting in that very house, which I LOVE. I’m proud of myself for buckling down, behaving like grown up, and going after my dream.
Parts of it were fun, but I can’t imagine doing it again. Not in a million years.

I’ve worked two jobs, logged thousands of overtime hours, and passed on great vacation trips, as I’m sure a lot of you have, to get what I wanted.
I’ve learned how to be soft and vulnerable, while getting my heart-broken, in order to be ready for my husband.
Some jumps I’ve taken have failed.
A lot of what I’ve done, I’d never do again.
If I’d REALLY known what it would take, I may not have been so willing.
I think as time goes on you develop a kind of amnesia to the pain. It keeps you in the game.

Regardless, it couldn’t have been THAT bad.
It has all brought me here, and here, is pretty damn good.
So I say: Go for it.

XoxJanet

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

Was in the middle of writing when the entire house started to rock and roll. Earthquake!
Lost my connection with the Muse.
Happy Monday!

Enough said…Happy Sunday!

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

<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 

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