You Can’t Gratitude Your Way Out of It …

Be grateful for your health. Be grateful for your job. Be grateful for your kids, their health. Be grateful for your house. Be grateful for the opportunity. Be grateful you woke up in the morning. Be grateful for the sun, the beach, the weather …

Gratitude became something I hung onto when a sinkhole appeared on the yellow brick road. I’m sure a lot of people activate that inner appreciation vibe and give thanks.

That’s a good thing. Gratitude. Needs to happen to get you out of that funk. You can’t be a bitter and angry Gargamel. You need to open up that Silver Linings Playbook. Excelsior!

But sometimes you can gratitude yourself into staying in a bad situation, and that can’t be good either. Well at least I have my health … Health can’t be the only thing you have because what happens when the day comes that you don’t get to say that? When you don’t have your health?

Sometimes you get stuck in the moment and then you realize holy crap I forgot. I used to have more. This is not me.

Sometimes it comes to you when you see a younger version of yourself, one wearing bell bottoms with that Farrah Fawcett killer hair. Maybe it’s the one at the park when you used to watched Saturday morning cartoons in your Scooby Doo chanclas, followed by a park outing. It’s that Kodak moment that takes you back to wanting something more and knowing you deserve it.

So you snap out of it. You realize you can’t gratitude yourself out of every situation. You just can’t. Keeps you stagnant and false. You realize that when you actually can’t say “well at least I have my health..”

So you move in a different direction, a more balanced version. And you have better moments, some where the sun rising is genuinely what sparks gratitude.

And you see a younger version of yourself smiling and you feel you’re making your way back. You caught yourself and now you’re making a U-turn. You’re making adjustments and finding a way back. You’re grateful that you’re finding your way back 🙂

Buen Camino…

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Monday Moments … Duct Tape Adventures

I don’t have many of these opportunities left.

I remember the veteran parents letting me know, it’s gonna be quick. Happen in a blink. Before you know it they’re gonna be going to college.  At times it didn’t feel quick. The long days when I was struggling by myself, sometimes I got help, other times I did most of the heavy lifting. So it didn’t seem to be going quickly. The tough days lasted so long and the fun happy ones seem to be so short.

Perspective was difficult to find until I was able to slow days down with gratitude and find pockets of time that stood still throughout the day.

Now I feel it slipping bit by bit again. I still got a ways to go until the empty nest days, I know I’ll be a wreck, but I got time. And until then, I try my very best to have patience, but whenever I ask for the ability to have more, it just backfires and I get situations where I lose it and frustrations bubble over the top. There’s no patience. Zero.

And then I feel bad.

I breathe. 

I hit reset.

And start over again.

I realized I need to stop asking for more patience, because all that gives me are situations that require more patience than already have in the tank. The universe gives me situations, not patience itself. Instead of giving me more I’m just overwhelmed. So now I ask for other things.

Times that I can remember when I’m older and having my kids remember good times when they look back. I hope for that, for them to look back and remember the Kodak moments with smiles and feel good vibes. Good-Time-Noodle-Salad moments.

That brings me to our Duct Tape Adventures. Ever since I found out about it, I got the kids jazzed up about the cardboard boat race and went all out. Every year since my son was six, we’ve ventured into the chlorine-filled pool and done our best to splash our way home in the Hannah Barbara Wacky Races inspired adventure. I always enjoyed those races and the personalities of each car as it zig-zagged its way toward the finish line hoping to be first. These are some of the times I hope they enjoy and remember when they got gray hair.

It takes one to two weeks to build and create a floating vessel of some kind, where I do most of the building and they put in the details or add some rows of tape. Each year the kids alternate and get to choose what the theme for our boat will be, and they look forward to the big day. The excitement of the race, will we finish first or last, what other boats will be there, what will people create, which boats will float and which ones will sink.  The day is something we all look forward too.

After a year of hiatus, you know, because the pandemic was attacking Earth, we were able to come back. Vaccinated and masked up people created and participated, and I was able to bring some Wacky Races fun back into our household. Thank you duct tape.  I was a little worried as my son, who is a lot older now had that competitive edge driving him forward, while my daughter just wanted make it to the finish line without flipping over and having to swim across, dragging the boat to the end. I had to remind my son that this day was about fun, about enjoying the moment and not getting burned out if his sister wasn’t an Olympic caliber member of the crew team. I also had to remind my daughter that she had to work as a team with her brother and that competition is part of the fun.

Balance. They both just needed to see the other side. 

In the end they both enjoyed the day of sunshine, with smiles, splashing, intense rowing, cheering, and hugs as they won their consolation bracket. High-fives all round as the boat remained one of the last ones still afloat.

Gorilla Duct Tape … You. Are. Awesome.

Words on Wednesday

Wish I was here …

Buen Camino …

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Words on Wednesday

After a game that nearly had everyone in the city on the verge of heart palpitations and requesting an EKG, I was finally able to settle down.

Straight up needed some deep breathing and meditation. I’ve learned that as a I get older the quietude rocks. Like we don’t have to always talk, quiet is good, especially if you need a minute to center yourself, you’re preparing for the day, or you’re trying to forget about the crappy one you just had.

I took a minute to visualize places that brought me peace and it took me back to a trip, the last big outing before Contagion became our reality. And it was so beautiful that I still tap into it today …

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With penalty boxes and fast paced intensity I found my Zen at a youth hockey tournament excursion. Of all places I found tranquility of The Great Outdoors and it’s still with me after all these months. I close my eyes and picture it and I can sense a calmness coming my way, even if it was 19 degrees and airlines and car rental reservations were involved, I found the pockets and they’re still with me.

That’s what a good vacation can do, give you moments you can tap into, the kind that take you back into a a state of gratitude when you’re feeling stressed out! I pictured the outing at the Garden of the Gods and Manitou Springs, and it made for a more positive state of mind.

I imagined the fresh, crisp air, cold to inhale but filling my lungs with freshness that only The Outdoors can do. I pictured the boulders and deep orange colored rocks against the blue skies. I remembered the climbers brave enough to scale to the top with little effort and a lot of confidence. I pictured the snow and the kids throwing it up in the air. I remember needing to bottle up that moment and save it because even with its simplicity the effect when revisited washes over you for less Costanza outbursts. I visualized and nature’s awesomeness helped the recovery effort.

With the deep breathing and Kodak moments I was able to settle down and relax. I mean sports is supposed to be a distraction from the current insanity going on, but sometimes the distraction becomes an anxiety-inducing experience … so you escape to the little vacation spots, or hidden places, and you’re back to center. Ready to take on the rest of the week and Game 3

Buen Camino my friends!

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Feel Good 5 Friday … With Gorilla Tape

Dear Gorilla Tape People,

I’m sad to say this year I didn’t need you. I saved a lot of money and you made less, but it doesn’t make me happy to say that.

I remembered. And I missed it.

I missed the two weeks. Had my measuring tape, ruler, box cutter, and pencil in the hair. I was like the female version of Schneider without the mustache. The kids would come up with the concept and I’d construct it. They’d partially help me with taping and decorating and be proud to say at the competition that they did it all. And I’d laugh.

Driving there and hanging out until sunset. A cool vibe drifting between the palm trees, doing something fun inspired by childhood memories and Saturday morning cartoon inspiration.

It was our own Wacky Races adventure. Cardboard Boat Regattas. I’m sure you’ve probably sponsored some out where people do this type of even in lakes. If not I highly recommend your PR people get on it. If you haven’t done it, you need to hire Don Draper. Stat. He’d know what to do.

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You know, it would have been our seventh year in a row.

Imagine that.

That’s six years of buying Gorilla Tape to help with these masterpieces. People really shouldn’t call duct tape, duct tape anymore. Like facial tissues are called Kleenex, search engines are Google, glass cleaner is called Windex. Duct tape should really be called Gorilla Tape. I mean what’s the deal with that? When is that taking place?

In any case, the month of August your sales would have gone up, at least here in my neck of the woods. And not two or three, I’m talking rolls and rolls.

Right after Shark Week, I start visiting our little hardware store down the street and stock up of Gorilla Tape. You know … “for the toughest jobs n the planet,” I’m a mom. I need these things to work so as not to have any additional parent fails. Gorilla Tape helps me with that. One year the coupon clipping mom in me decided to try something else and didn’t it just didn’t. I wasn’t aware duct tape would shrink and shrivel and melt in the sun. But this tape did. This was not built for the toughest jobs on the planet, not even the easiest one. So I found you and did it over. And there we were, the unsinkable ship.

Architecturally correct, supported by Gorilla Tape.

But competition got cancelled this time around.

Corona virus struck and we got nothing. No box or large cardboard pieces to tape together because people were freaking out about cardboard, not knowing what surfaces this disease was clinging to or for how long. People didn’t know anything really. And I include myself of course. So no duct tape to help with the memories.

Sorry about your sales. With the NHL, NBA, and MLB back in playoff action not many fans of the Cardboard Boat Regatta lobbied for its return. But I don’t blame them. I didn’t want people up in my grill, shaking my hand crowding me during quarantine. We all want to stay alive. So our Wacky Races Adventures will be fondly remembered until next time …

Earth, Wind, and Fire — September

Juan Luis Guerra – Lampara Pa Mies Pies

Blondie — The Tide is High

The Archies — Sugar, Sugar

Jimmy Buffet — Margaritaville

Buen Camino my friends …

Duct Tape Adventures Continue …

It’s an adventure inspired by my childhood Saturday morning cartoons and now continues into a family tradition. Something that involves the very best of our creative bones, laughter, and smiles.

Sometimes I think I enjoy it more than my kids, but when I see their faces during the race or at the night, it might be a tie.

Do you remember those Saturday morning cartoons, the kind you needed no alarm for, just sprang out of your bed in pajamas and snuck into the living room to watch as everyone still snored and dreamed away until the sun shone through the curtains?

This story always begins there …

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Wacky Races. I loved the competition and how each character created their own custom vehicle. The whole concept was something that stuck with me for years. I’d always wanted to do something like that, but nothing like that existed in my neck of the woods. So I needed to wait until I had kids to finally participate in something as cool as that. So the duct tape and cardboard make appearances every year in the fall.

I don’t necessarily do it so that the kids can look back on it and say … yeah we had a tradition … more so that they can be able to remember the fun in building, in creating, in racing, in cheering others on, in thinking yeah we had fun with mom on that, that was something cool I enjoyed in my childhood. I know they enjoy it in the present moment, I just hope the memory lasts long after I’m gone and they smile at the pictures. They start conversations with each other and tell stories of our family. They think … good times, noodle salad.

Our annual duct tape adventures took place last month and I seemed to enjoy the creativity and architectural skills of all the participants. I’m surprised every year by the ingenuity and awesomeness of people’s spirit. Sometimes I wonder if these people make props or stage sets for a living because they’re so great. But I give my mom skills a high five as we are always one of the few boats left afloat.

This year my son, a true fan of The Rebellion, chose a Star Wars themed ship for the race and in truth we almost didn’t make it. But a couple late nights and the amazing strength of Gorilla Duct Tape and we were sailing away.

 

Our Rebel ship ready for takeoff 🙂

As always we participated in the child-adult race, but they also decided to try their luck in the child-child category as well. It was so fun to see them paddle their way to the finish line. Now they weren’t experienced kayakers as some of the older kids, but the fact that they raced on their own and tried it was pretty fun to watch. I was worried by son’s competitive edge would result in a frustrating loss, but he enjoyed his first kid race, regardless. My daughter attempted paddling and I believe her arm muscles didn’t appreciate it the next morning. Next year we’re gonna have to try taking rowing lessons as we finally got the buoyancy and staying afloat part nailed. We just need our rowing muscles and a little more coordination.

My favorite this year was Marty, Doc, and their DeLorean …

But no matter what, we enjoyed our day at the beach, the camaraderie of the other boat architects, the creativity of the boats and the excitement of the races. I’ll keep building the boats as long as they keep enjoying the journey.

 

Buen Camino my friends

 

 

 

Bob Ross Would Have Been Proud

Sometimes it’s a sigh of … am I ever gonna get there? Other times it’s a smile that creeps up because the feel-goods take over and I see the possibilities.

I keep looking at my vision board on a daily basis and see the pictures and hope I had for myself at the beginning of this 2019 journey. I’m reminded, another day, another set of possibilities. And sometimes when the day ends I’m not always a step closer to the goal, and sometimes that’s a real bummer.

But when I get a chance to keep the promises I made to myself, the frustration of not reaching certain goals fizzles out. Knowing that I’m keeping my word and committing to new experiences adds substance to my life and keeps the momentum going. Doing something different, something new once a month  provides me with comfort at the end of the day that I’m doing whatever I can to be better than I was yesterday. I’m trying to keep the Yes, Man on a roll because these are avenues I can control and it finally feels like something is going my way. 12 months. 12 new somethings. And number six was pretty cool.

It comes at a time when I desperately needed a turnaround.

As rejections kept floating in, I enjoyed this new artistic experience that put me in touch with artists and their visions. I’d never been to a chalk festival. It was one of those I’ll-get-around-to-it-one-day adventures … and the day finally came. And I was so glad.

 

I got lost in the color, skill, and imagination of all these murals. My intention was to see them create, see what they came up with, and I left feeling inspired to jolt myself passed the slump and find creative awesomeness. They start with nothing absolutely nothing and they come out with these incredible works that make you pause. The talent made you stop, just to admire the hard work. Feeling the artists’ vibe helped get rid of some of the funk that often comes with the lows of writing when the highs are not really working its magic.

It gave me something to look forward to as an independent artist. It helped to know that alternate platforms can also bring you closer to your goals. People discover your art in unexpected places, just have to keep getting the courage to put it out there. At the end of the day I was glad I kept my word, my resolution promises. This new chalk festival adventure helped align my perspective, and appreciate the mural artist even more than I already do.

I think Bob Ross would have been proud.

Buen Camino, my friends!

I Was Grateful For The Whale … and For Blanche, Dorothy, Rose, and Sophia

I walked in feeling like Jim Carrey in that movie Yes, Man.

Completely out there, saying yes to new adventures that I’d normally pass on just to hang out at home, relax, and catch up on my Netflix binge-worthy shows.

I like the comfort of hanging out at home.

But in an effort to keep my word, and continue creating my own momentum, ignite opportunities, and make life more interesting, this month’s new adventure involved the artistic side. The one I don’t tap into: Drawing and coloring.

I saw the workshop posted and channeled my inner Jim Carrey Yes Man and “yessed” myself into the class.

I rolled into the creative space and there they were the Blanche, Dorothy, Rose, Sophia and the rest of their crew … The Golden Girls.

This Adult Art Workshop wasn’t at all what I expected. In truth I didn’t know what to expect as I’d never taken an art class before. But I didn’t think I’d be hanging out with AARP members for an afternoon. See, I know some of those folks from my complex and neighborhood, and some of them aren’t very friendly. They get upset over the weather or wind chimes. They get burned out when you’re cheering for your team during the playoffs. They get antsy when the postman isn’t punctual. They give you the stink eye when you tell them to pick up their dog poop. They’re living their life and they’re not about to hear any sass.

So when I walked in, I thought it was going to be a complaining session and I would regret it sitting down.

However it proved to be a pretty interesting motley crew of stories about grandkids, sons, daughters, ex-husbands, cruise ship travel and Uber rides. I knew about Barbara’s kids not calling enough, about Sarah’s kids calling too much, about ex-husband Bob liking fried liver once a week for dinner, about grandkids being jackasses, about love escapades on cruise ships that would steam up any romance novel, and of Uber rides to the cardiologist office.

I’ve never been to a beauty salon or barber shop, but I imagine these ladies would be rocking that scene, like Steel Magnolias.

I mean they did not care who heard their business. They were having their Ya-Ya Sisterhood moment regardless of who else was in the room. It was pretty freeing. I went there expecting colored pencils, art, and that’s it. But it was surprisingly relaxing and calming to be hanging with these women and hear their stories while I colored my whale.

I didn’t say much the entire session, just chose my colors, nodded, smiled and kept listening. I liked the calmness of being surrounded by women who didn’t care what people thought. They were living their life, creating art, telling stories, and having a good time doing it. They didn’t look like they needed resolutions or to be on a Yes Man quest. That was how they rolled, regardless.

And I liked that vibe.

I walked out of there grateful I had shown up and appreciative of the reminders, the lessons, their presence and way of being taught me. I was grateful for my whale.

I think that sort of strength and comfort comes with age. Maybe from saying Yes to a lot of new experiences along the way, maybe when they were younger 🙂

Buen Camino My Friends!

Motivation Monday: I Got The Compass, Now I Created The Map

Vision boards. I think Oprah started this. I have no idea. I’d heard so much about them, both positive and negative. Positive being they inspire change and dream chasing. Negative in that they remind you of what you have yet to accomplish and that you’re so far off your mark.

Glass half full, half empty.

Undecided.

You send the vibe out there in the universe in hopes that it boomerangs right back at you and gives you the courage to keep taking steps forward. Manifest your destiny … that’s why you do it. Maybe clarity.

Maybe people do it as a reminder, too.

I was one of the few on Earth that had yet to make a vision board. I had goals. I had dreams. Still have them. I know what they are, didn’t think I needed a reminder. But I spoke to a buddy of mine and she felt so much excitement and energy talking about her vision board and how the dots were connecting, that I gave it a second thought.  And then a third. And then I jumped right in and did it.

Most people take care of this business on January 1st. Ready for the year with their resolutions and their dream map. I didn’t create a map, but I had my eye on the yellow-brick road and a compass in my hand. I knew my dream and my direction. I still do. But I never thought to map it out with pictures on a board, never thought to look at it occasionally or on a daily basis. But you put your kinetic dream energy out there and it re-energizes you.  It clarifies your vision and the universe helps conspire with those who dream. I always enjoyed that bit from the Alchemist. This whole vision board seemed like an Alchemist kind of thing to do.

It was something new. And I made a pact with myself to try something new every month. That was the deal. You can’t be in the same place you were 365 days ago if you try something new every month. And not just try for the sake of trying, I mean really give it some thought and give it 100.

So I did.

Last month, I dove into my try-something-new project, and created my first vision board.  I have to admit it was a little overwhelming narrowing down this inspirational epic masterpiece. But everything is a work in progress and I imagine I’ll keep tweaking it as the year goes along. But I finally have a starting point and it felt good to visualize my dreams. I wasn’t sure it would. I guess it all depends on your head space for the day. Is it going to be a positive uplifting catapult, or a I’m-not-there-yet-look-where-everyone-else-is-feel-crappy scenario?

Now I should have researched and found examples of vision boards before creating my own, but I didn’t. However I did find information on the layout, and maybe this is just one kind of flow. I learned that there’s a Feng-Shui flow to this layout, stuff that supposed to help optimize your energy.  There might be more out there. But this one worked for me and helped me get started.

There are nine categories or fields that people essentially put out there: Career/Life/Mission; Marriage/Love/Relationships; Family/Community; Prosperity/Wealth; Well-Being/Health; Helpful People/Travel; Children/Creativity; Knowledge/Self-Cultivation; and Social life/Reputation/Fame. Now when laying out my board certain categories had more weight than others, and my definition of some of these terms may be different than someone else’s. For example my board there was no need for fame, it wasn’t something I aspire to, but I do care how my family, my kids see me, what their perspective is on me. So while these categories helped narrow down some pictures, they also helped define terms that work for me and my road. Because I’ve got to remember, everybody has got their own lane, and I’m in mine, so I can’t freak out when someone else is speeding down their road. They got a different destination, and a different motor.

So I’m curious … does everyone have a vision board and I’m the last one to have discovered it? What other ways are there to layout your dreams? Do you use a huge bulletin board, or an 8 1/2 by 11 inch notebook, or a shoe box diorama? What other kinds of layouts do people have?

The research continues …

Buen Camino my friends!

 

 

Alive … Alive in Wet Sweatpants

From what I can remember … it’s only the third time I’ve peed in my pants.

Laughing and jumping rope sort of get things started. But it’s not a full-blown-change-your-pants-kind-of situation. Although it happens to a lot of moms. But near-death experiences seem to result in the change-of-clothes situation for me.

I blame it on coconut shavings from the Pinkberry toppings counter and baby carrots, and the fact that it’s dangerous for me to eat these things when I’m alone. Apparently it’s not safe for me to do so, and I certainly can’t do it while I’m walking upstairs either.

Life lessons. They’re important. Chewing is important.

It’s been proven as I had my life replay in slow motion because I’ve lacked perfecting this skill still.  Kodak snapshots coming into focus like Polaroids ran through my mind today as I gasped for air. I busted down the bedroom door like the leader of a S.W.A.T. Team gesturing for my napping mother to smack my back. I didn’t mean to scare the crap out of her, but I did. I tried to assure her that I was all right, I just needed her to smack me because gasping for air is no joke.

Carrots, like the coconut shavings on top of Pinkberry frozen yogurt, can go down the wrong way and block your windpipe or whatever tube allows you to breathe. Thus leaving you pondering about your life while someone is slapping you on the back.

After a couple of minutes, which felt like the longest minutes in this time-space continuum, I spit, I coughed, I peed, and then I spit some more until the airway cleared up.

It was scary for a minute there, and it was something that had people concerned. But once I caught my breath, a huge wave of relief filled me up.

I wasn’t dying.

Not today anyway.

Just needed to change my pants.

The force of my coughs was so powerful, the will for me to get air was so strong that it overpowered my bladder and just emptied it out. And I laughed, because it was funny. And because I could breathe.

I was alive.

Alive in wet sweatpants and that’s all that mattered.

I wasn’t looking for the meaning of life afterward, or anything like that, but I was in a deep state of gratitude for being able to get through that one. I was grateful to have hugged my kids that day, grateful that my mother was hear to smack my back, grateful that I have a strong will to survive, grateful that I remembered pieces of happiness in my life and knowing full well that I wanted more of them, grateful that I was grateful.

I remembered my most recent moment of zen and I took a deep breath. It was a good image to remember, has a funny adventure attached to that picture but that’s a story for another day … today … today I share the picture that brought me zen in my wet sweatpants, so I share it with you and hope it brings you good vibes.

 

Hiking brings you Zen moments sometimes.

 

Buen camino my friends!