“Baby I was born this way….” Born This Way/Lady  Gaga

(OK, people, don’t get your panties in a bunch. This is a generalization. Of course not all women are like these stereotypes, but this is my fairlytale—or lack thereof. Yeah, baby.)

Born this way or made this way? That is a good question.

Just like Pinocchio longed to be a ‘real boy,’ sometimes I wish I were a real girl…a girl who likes flowers, makeup, shopping and to have the doors opened for her.

I hate shopping. I dislike chick flicks in general. I don’t give babies a second look (though I do love puppies and kittens, so that should count). Jewelry makes me yawn (except for super eclectic pieces.)

I don’t need to be rescued. I rescue.

I don’t need someone to fix things. I fix them.

I don’t ask people for help. I look up how to do it.

I can cook (a little), clean, iron, raise kids, fix the toilet, repair the squeaky door, pay bills, do taxes, program websites, and put on makeup in Photoshop (it’s waaaay easier than in real life).

I am straight.

And I wear sundresses on occasion. (Plus I shave my legs every day, too.)

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“But there never seems to be enough time, to do the things you want to do.” ~Jim Croce/Time In A Bottle

Musicians write about passing time for a reason. From Fleetwood Mac to Eminem, their common message is, “Time is limited. Use it, or lose it.”

It’s scary how fast time flies by. It seems that one day I was 20, and the next I was pushing 40 (and now, well past the 40 mark). I had lived a huge chunk of my life—20 years—in a fog, not moving forward and not enjoying the moment.

What I was waiting for, I do not know.

The perfect time?
The perfect circumstance?
The perfect planetary alignment?

Sometimes it’s scary to think that I ‘lost’ 20 years of my life

I am making up for it now by teaching, volunteering, writing, spending quality time with my kids and doing other things that  love. But those ‘lost’ years….they are gone. Forever. My body is older. My mind is more forgetful. My window is smaller.

Do something today for yourself that you’ve always wanted to do, even something small. And plan something grander for later this year. Tell yourself, “This will be the year of….” and make it happen. Because we don’t have really all that many years available to us.

Time to make use of them, eh?

Take a chance. Do something different, daring, and doggone fun!

~Helen

“There are no telling how many miles you have to run while chasing a dream.” 

We hear our own breathing rasping in our ears, the rhythmic pounding of our hearts, the burning in our lungs.

Running, running, running.

Steady…consistent…towards our goal. Never wavering, never stopping, our thighs on fire, our feet pounding on the pavement. We are in our “zone,” focused.

Mile-after-mile, day-after-day, month-after-month, we physically run, steadily getting stronger

Chasing a dream is no different. It takes day-after-day of effort, minute-after-minute of work, sacrifice-after-sacrifice. And just like with running, we want to give up (we need to give up—we so very much need to give up), but the only way to succeed is to bust through the fatigue and resistance to the other side.

Every time you want to give up, remember how if feels to run. Remember how if feels to hurt. Remember how it feels to win.

Chase your dreams. Don’t ever, ever give up.

~Onward

“But just because it burns doesn’t mean you’re gonna die.  You’ve gotta get up and try try try…” ~Pink

This is one of my new favorite Pink songs. ‘Try, try, try’ seems to be the motto I have lived by since I was a little girl. ‘Try..and try again.’

As a child I had to walk down a path in the snow in the semi-darkness an hour each way to and from school, a flashlight clutched in my trembling little hands, surrounded by scary shadows and noises.

I learned to walk faster.

At the age of nine I was sent out into the forest by myself on the weekends to pick blueberries, not permitted to return home to my grandmother’s until both my buckets were full.

I trained myself to pick fast.

As a teenager I cleaned offices and stairwells before and after school to earn money so I could buy cat food for my cats and bus fare for myself (and a rose for my alcoholic mother every payday, trying to earn her love).

I learned to clean efficiently.

I ran away from home and across continents, from Norway to the United States, at age 17, with $1,000 in my pocket.

I taught myself to type on an American keyboard and how to use word processing programs. 

I thought working both a full time job (boo, secretary) and a part time job (yay, Waldenbooks) while going to college was normal.

I trained my body to work through exhaustion.

The bathing of my newborn son was done in the kitchen sink with a ‘how to’ book in one hand, baby in the other, flipping through pages and following the bath tips step-by-step.

I learned how to love and parent day-by-day.

After 20 years of marriage and two children I got divorced, receiving no child support or alimony, and learning first-hand about poverty.

I became resourceful and self-taught.

I dieted for 23 years, trying every new fad and starting a new diet every ‘Monday’, all the while gaining more weight.

I had to discover a new way of looking at myself and my life (and then losing 80 pounds).

Climbing up a mountainside on my bicycle took over 2 hours of pain, crying and failing thigh muscles.

I recognized that I could endure almost anything. 

Standing in the photo pit at a rock concert, holding a borrowed camera up to my eye and shooting wildly at the stage stressed me beyond belief.

I forced myself to adapt to new situations, and to shut down my fears.

At age 46, thirty years after starting my first book, I finally became a published author.

That’s when I realized I had the power of “try.” 

Try, try, try. Learn, learn, learn. Don’t ever give up. Anything worth anything will burn. ‘But just because it burns doesn’t mean you’re gonna die.’

Onward.

“Enjoy the little things.” ~Zombieland Rule #32

You might wonder how a zombie movie could inspire such a profound saying…but it can. “Enjoy the little things” is one of the many great “rules” of Zombieland—and of life. (My favorite Zombileland rule is rule #1: CARDIO – so you can outrun the zombies).

Bills, projects and chores can wait. We only live once, and it truly is the little things that matter:

• Having a moment of tea or coffee in the SUN.
• Cuddling with your child (or someone equally as good).
• A great piece of European CHOCOLATE.
• A sip of a fine WINE.
• Warm feet on a COLD morning.
• The Sunday PAPER. 
• A HOT, HOT shower after a long day.
• Your favorite SONG sung really loudly.

Moments. Occasions. Thoughts. Feelings. Being alive. And well.

~Onward

(PS. That cat enjoying the sun spot in the photo? My kitty MISHA – Misha with the mustache.  She lived until she was almost 20 years old, laying in the sun, purring, sitting on my head – don’t ask, sleeping on my chest, and watching me bathe. Misha truly knew how to enjoy the little things.)

“But I’m not the answer for the questions that you still have…” ~Savior, Rise Against

The first time I saw Rise Against I was working the concert as a photographer. I brought my son and two of his friends, all preteens, and we piled into the car for a night of pizza and punk rock in San Diego. Rise Against was (and is) my son’s favorite band, and I was only briefly familiar with their music. I went for the kids and the photographic experience. At the time I wasn’t all together impressed, but I didn’t hate it, either. I was, however, a bit intrigued by what I learned about Rise Against’s commitment to social activism while doing research for the article.

Vegan, socially-aware, ultra cool punk rockers? What’s up with that?

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Hmmm, that got your attention, eh?

Well, if you’re reading this on December 31st, then no—you are not going to see a change by the next day. But if you are reading this in the fall (or even just after January…you’ve got a whole year to prepare then), you can definitely find yourself in a much better place by New Year’s Day. Resolutions themselves are hard to keep but you can make it easier on yourself by adopting some pirate traits.

So, how can you prepare to become (happier, healthier, fitter) with less effort?

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“But there’s still rage inside. Somebody get me through this nightmare. I can’t control myself” ~Animal I Have Become/Three Days Grace

I usually don’t say anything, nor do I usually rant. When I’m mad, I eat carbs. I don’t vent, whine, or complain. Usually.

This time, however, I can’t keep my fingers off of the keyboard. I am incredulous, shocked, taken aback, and dumbfounded by the feeling of entitlement of our young people…thanks to an episode of ABC’s Shark Tank.

As I am spending another exciting Saturday night working (this time preparing my book— insert shamless plug here— for the Kindle), I listened to a few episodes of Shark Tank on Hulu.com while I formatted away.

In this particular episode two college girls approached the sharks about funding their peanut butter company. One girl said she has just 12 hours of classes a week and had been promised funding for $50,000 from her parents (they were seeking an additional $50,000 in funding from one of the sharks). Together, the girls presented a cute little package of 20-year-old easy-going spark…until they opened their mouths and said the one fatal thing that set me off: “We’ve worked hard. We deserve this.” Whaaaaaa? Deserve this? Deserve this?

My head just spun around like The Exorcist.

“Young little missies, you deserve nothing. You’ve earned nothing. You are entitled to nothing.”

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“Too many people go through life waiting for things to happen instead of making them happen!”
~Sasha Azevedo

“Don’t stop believin’, hold on to the feelin’…” ~Journey

Stay in bed or go to the gym?

This morning bright and early at 5 a.m. I learned, via text, that the power was off in the entire area where my gym is. The Spinning class I was teaching was supposed to start at 8 a.m. I agonized about what to do. Stay in my comfy bed, or head down to the gym, “just in case.” The “just in case” won.

I grabbed my daughter’s portable speaker system (“just in case“) and went to the club, which was dark, hot and unusually quiet without the background music. I walked into the Spinning room and was greeted by 25 smiling faces (well, as much smiling I could see in the near dark). They all knew I would come. Staying in bed was never a real option for any of us.

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