Grateful For In 2016 …

 

A California night …

 

🙂

… Under the twinkle of the stars and light of palm trees, California Dreaming.

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I’m Still Part of The Justice League, Just Need a Pat on The Back

Every Wednesday they meet …

They give a little umph for when you’re not really feeling it. I mean I’d like to think I’m pretty secure myself, but there are days when I-don’t-think-it’s-gonna-happen creeps in, there are days when doubt sneaks onto my 10-page start.

Out there in the unknown through comments, links, and blog hops IWSG is ready to give you that extra boost.

The Insecure Writers Support Group.

I missed the meeting. The week caught up with me and I fell asleep. Exhausted Parent Syndrome. It’s a chronic problem. But sometimes I prescribe myself some 5-hour energy and I’m back in the mix. But even though I missed the 24-hour window I’m sure my writer insecurity can still qualify to speak on the matter.

Some of you know that I finished writing my book in Decemebr of 2014 and I spent 2015 editing the crap out of it. After the multiple rewrites, and falling in and out of love with my characters I’ve come to the end. The last 27 pages of my final rewrite … That’s what I’ve got.

And so it hits me, I’m gonna have to let someone take a look at it. I’m going to have to ask a couple of buddies from my newspaper days to give it a look and tell me what they think. And the thing is I respect them as writers so much that the thought of them checking it out fills my insecurity bucket. I mean if I don’t know you the fact that you don’t like my book, or story, or play doesn’t make that killer impact. But when it’s a buddy, a close friend, a comadre that puts the funny feeling in my chest, the kind that finds me making my debut appearance at the IWSG. And I’d like to thank my buddy T.B. Markinson for letting me in on the secret meetings.

Hi … My name is The Guat, and I’m insecure … Sometimes.

IWSG

Yup.

The feeling comes and goes, it doesn’t always stay with me. When I’m in the middle of a story, typing away in the nitty-gritty of it, I’m Superman. I’m Batman. I’m Wonder Woman. I’m the entire freakin’ Justice League rolled up in one. But I find that when I get close to finishing a project that’s when it kicks in. It’s getting ready to leave my hands, my control. And that freaks my freak.

Although I’ve got to say ever since I started this blogging journey, I’ve gotten better. This Word Press community has definitely helped empty the insecurity bucket and given me even more confidence in letting go.

But when it comes to a 200-page book, or a one-act play for my friend’s theatre group, the insecurity still trickles in, because there’s so much of me in there.

And when I hear the …. Duuuuude that was good story.

A smile creeps in, and so does relief.

But I get it, I don’t necessarily need the “duuuuuude that was a good story,” compliment because I feel good about the story, but it’s always nice to be reassured.

I’m in reassurance mode.

And that’s why I’m at IWSG.

Do you guys need ISWG?

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Tune-Ups Are Necessary Because UGH-Moments Exists

“Self-judgement is based on unreality.” — Deepak Chopra

 

Say what?

I had to hear that a few times before it actually made sense. Sometimes ideas are so deep that I need to take a minute. Several of them if they hit me with this early in the morning.

As a writer I’m totally guilty of self-judgement. As a mom … duuuuuude happens a lot. And sometimes it doesn’t even have to do with writing or motherhood could’ve been love, family, career, spirit, life, NanoWrimo, a conversation, parallel parking. Anything can make you feel bad, if you let it.

And then Deepak spoke and I heard it.

Judgement is based on decisions or moments that happened in the past, those UGH-moments that you just can’t shake off. Still thinking about the five minutes, five days, five weeks, or five months ago situation. Sometimes they still play in my head like a rerun and you can’t seem to change the channel.

But again, I was reminded of something I learned a while back, something to help me flip the switch. Being a work in progress. That’s me, so I snapped out of it. I realized the person I was five weeks ago isn’t the same person I am today. I’m under construction and sometimes I get help. The universe tends to bless me with the grace, imagination, or gratitude I need in order to get through life’s little moments where I’m lacking perspective and patience. Other times it leads me to Yogi teas, Ben & Jerry’s, a punching bag, and Netflix.

So I continue to progress, and remember to be present, because it’s hard to judge myself about the past if I’m focused on the right now.

The Present! For the most part I thought I lived my life enjoying “the moment,” and being present. But now that I hit the big 4-0 I realized I could’ve done it a bit more.

“The road to happiness starts with a deep breath and an awareness of the many blessings tied to that single breath.” — Richelle E. Goodrich

Being on this meditation kick has really helped make that a part of my lifestyle. At first it was just tough trying to make it a habit, but now it’s just become a part of daily living.Whether I’m enjoying a football game on the couch, eating the best piece of chocolate cake ever, hanging out with friends, blogging, or skydiving, whatever it is I’m in the moment. I enjoy it, I appreciate it, and then I’m grateful for it happening.

This whole spiritual and self-compassion cleanse was a good reminder. Weekly tune-ups are necessary because bad days, jackasses, and UGH-moments happen daily.

Buen Camino people!

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The Little Red-Headed Girl In All of Us

Everybody needs a little red-headed girl in their life … you could be the little red-headed girl in someone’s life even if you don’t have red hair.

Yup.

I learned the wisdom of the red-headed girl by watching Charlie Brown, him and his whole Peanuts Gang threw down some serious heart-warming material for the soul.

THE LITTLE RED-HAIRED GIRL FIRST MENTIONED: November 19, 1961 Not much is known about the The Little Red-Haired Girl except that she is Charlie Brown’s unrequited love in the Peanuts comic strip. Charlie Brown never found the courage to talk to her and she was never actually seen. The closest she came to appearing in Peanuts was in May, 1998, where she is seen in silhouette dancing with Snoopy. DID YOU KNOW: In the animated specials, which Charles M. Schulz considered non-canonical, the Little Red-Haired Girl is named Heather.

I knew I would enjoy the movie and I knew my kids would love it, but I had no idea that there would be such a great life lesson accompanied by movie popcorn and juice boxes.

The Peanuts Gang becomes part of our family every holiday season beginning with The Great Pumpkin, Thanksgiving dinner, and ending with Christmas. So it was of no surprise that we hit the movies on opening weekend. We’re big Charlie Brown fans. We love underdogs around here. We rooted for him to catch that break, to succeed, to kick that football, to fly that kite. We wanted to high-five him when he had his moment and smiled knowing that it had happened.

But aside from having his moment of victory, he had something else in this movie. He had an A-Ha! moment because someone else believed in him. Now for the record we know that Snoopy and Linus always believed in him, they were always in his corner, they always wanted him to succeed and never thought of him as a Blockhead. They thought of him as Charlie Brown.

But this time … this time there was a girl … a little red-headed girl who gave him the butterflies and made his heart beat faster. This little red-headed girl saw things in him that he didn’t see in himself. All the things he perceived as mistakes, missed opportunities, or utmost social disasters turned out to be valuable qualities like compassion, honesty, goodness, and courage. This girl didn’t see what was wrong, she saw what was right.

And that’s he needed, that’s what we all we needed.That moment was so awesome i stopped eating my popcorn. I paused to see if my kids were paying attention. I turned to look, their eyes staring at the glow of the screen and the smiles were big.

We all need a little red-headed girl in our life and we need to be that little red-headed girl for somebody. We need people to look at our choices and not see the failure or embarrassment, but realize the value of our spirit. We need to have people see our potential and inspire us to reach it when we can’t see it ourselves.

I was grateful for the Charlie Brown lesson and I was even more thankful that my son and daughter got a chance to see it. They’re both capable of being the little red-headed girl, we all are, it’s in the spot where our heart rests.

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The Danger of Being a Jackass Avoived

I was recently reminded not to be a jackass, which tends to be important when you’re a parent.

You’re gonna have these moments … however your mission in life is trying to minimize them. As a person or parent, this should be a great guideline. And there I was on the tip of it, about to cross into jackass territory when my internal dialogue checked me.

The voice.

I heard it.

It wasn’t a scolding, you shouldn’t do this, watch your tone voice. It was a story. I had heard a story and it stuck with me. I had archived it. Didn’t know when I would need it, but thought it was important enough that I needed to keep it close. Being a sports fan and growing up as an athlete I figured it was just as powerful a lesson as Rudy, Hoosiers, or The Natural.

There I was on the soccer field watching my son and his Bad News Bears team trying to get the ball down the field. Just trying to get it to the other side. Now they’ve had difficulty doing this for the past few games as a number of members tend to kick it out of bounds.

Now seeing how my son is usually assigned the role of defender he never really gets a chance to lead the charge. I guess his ability to check people and clear the ball served the team better as a defender, closer to the goal.

So when he got the opportunity to kick the ball out of the box and down field, I thought he’d be eager and quick to blast it. But as they placed the ball in front of him, he turned trying to find an open teammate. Everyone appeared to be covered and it hadn’t dawned on them to try and move around or closer to my son.

So he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Then I heard my voice.

Kick it! Just kick it!

Then I heard a few others saying … Hurry, kick it!

And he didn’t.

Not yet.

But after a few more seconds which seemed to feel like forever, he finally passed it down field to his teammate. This happened three times in one period.

So when he came in for a water break smiling about the fact that he was chosen to kick it down field, my thoughts were replaced by the story …

It was a high school football game and two Dads were in the stands watching their kids play the game. One of the players, John, was an all-star offensive player, always getting an opportunity to get his hands on the ball and gain first downs or score touchdowns. The other, George, was a defensive player who never really handled the ball, until that night.

There was fumble and George was able to pick it up. He took a step to the left, then a step to the right, and then got pummeled by huge offensive linemen. It was the kind of tackle where you could hear the crunch of the helmets. Everyone in the stands winced. The only thing people remembered about that play was not the fumble but the way George was leveled by the other team

John’s Dad put his arms around George’s Dad and just as he was about to give him his condolences, George’s Dad said …

“Did you see that? Did you see that! Those were the best two moves ever!”

George’s Dad didn’t see what everyone else saw. George’s Dad was beaming with pride as he saw the best offensive move his son had made to date.

So when my son came in smiling, I handed him his Batman water bottle and told him those three kicks were awesome. Maybe he’d get a chance in the next game to kick four.

The danger of being a jackass … avoided.

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My Anti-Dentite Moment

I’d never been in a state of hilarity, disgust, fear, and anxiety all at once. Those tend to hit me one at a time. But nothing like a visit to the dentist to just bring out the best in you.

I didn’t hate him, but I sure didn’t love him. I don’t think anybody loves him. I mean he’s got root canals for crying out loud. Drilling at the vary root of it, the most painful, uncomfortable and exposed nerve possible. And at the end of it it’s not just your tooth that hurts…your whole freakin’ face hurts, and all you can do is move in slow motion for about a week.

But it doesn’t stop there … no.

They try to put television now to distract you from the pain of it all, but sometimes they put stuff that just adds to the pain, like the stupid Kardashians. Watching them hurts my brain … and if you do watch them it’s all good for you … but don’t tell me. I still want to think highly of you.

However this visit to the dentist had nothing to do with root canals or that talentless family. Nope. This was something much worse. I’d imagine much more painful if I’d gone through with it.

Although my dentist assures me it’s a necessary procedure if I don’t want my mouth to cave in or whatever in 20 years. But I’m up in the air about it. I wonder what Ferris Bueller would do?

You see there I was enjoying the sounds of the Showcase Showdown and Drew Carey on The Price is Right, when my dentist paused.

Hmph.

Anti-Dentite Moment

He told me to give him a minute and then another chick entered the room. They both examined me, with that the miniature Captain Hook hook and the tiny mirror. They nodded in agreement and then he took off his mask.

You’re gums are receding. They’re in bad shape.

I had no idea they could do that, but apparently I’m an angry brusher. I was told I could no longer scrub my teeth like I was at a car wash, I needed to be doing it in a gentler manner, which was weird because I never thought of myself as an angry brusher, I just wanted my teeth to be clean.

All right sounds good doc, I’ll take it easy on the brushing. Am I all done?

Not quite.

You see because you grind your teeth at night and because the recession is so severe…you see here and here and on the other side there…the nerve is almost exposed…you see that? You feel that? That increases your sensitivity.

Yeah I guess I see.

Well we need to cover that up. There are two options.

He went on to tell me about the seriousness of it all, and suggested surgery. It was the only way to fix it. And I agreed. Totally … until he got into specifics.

You see this procedure would entail cutting the roof of my mouth and placing that extra gum piece on the side where my gums were down to the nerve. They would then stitch me up and wait a couple of weeks after I healed before cutting the other side of the roof of my mouth, grab some more Guat cells and replace the other side.

Now I don’t know if you’ve ever burned the roof of your mouth with a hot cheese pizza, but that tends to hurt for hours, I can’t imagine how having stitches on the roof would feel.

Dreamy I bet.

Option II

I could just get some tissue stuff they had there. Benefits are that healing time is reduced and no stitches on the roof.

Bonus! Right?

So what do you make this tissue stuff out of?

Wasn’t sure what kind of technology was going to be up in my mouth. But apparently it wasn’t Flubber or some other advanced form of tissue.

It was cadaver tissue.

You know the kind that dead people hang onto when they pass on.

Yeah. I’d have someone else’s gums in my mouth.

Dude.

Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude.

And it was right there and then that I lost it, right on that leathery Lazy Boy type of chair, with that chick from Iowa losing her Showcase Showdown. I lost it.

Disgust, fear, anxiety and hilarity all rolled up in one.

I laughed. I cracked up. I couldn’t stop.

The doctor didn’t know what to do, he looked confused and just smiled.

I’m gonna need a minute to mull that over I said in between laughs.

After about five minutes of gut busting laughter I left the office and told him I’d give him my answer next week.

It’s been about two weeks now.

I’m thinking dentures might not be that bad.

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I Broke Up And Didn’t Even Know It …

I had a breakthrough.

I just had it! Wanted it a couple of weeks ago, needed it a couple of weeks ago, but things don’t tend to happen on your timeline.

But it happened. I was on a roll and it culminated with the awesomeness of a Zac Brown Band concert.

Dude.

I was going to tell you about my Anti-Dentite moment just for laughs, because that’s exactly how I found myself at the dentist’s office, contemplating between two of the worst possible choices presented to me, and instead of freaking out right away,which would have been the normal reaction, I guess. I started cracking up, at the absurdity of the choice, but I’ll save that for your Monday and hope to get you smiling at the beginning of the week.

Now this post … Tonight on my Netflix Night, I stand at peace thinking of the writer’s block I just Ninja-ed my way through. I was on a serious creativity drought where I found myself bored with my character and the thing is … She isn’t boring. I was super pumped when I started this literary journey. Tuning in night after night just to see how it all panned out. I was totally into her. Totally.

But then … I don’t know. The spark fizzled out.

I think reading it for the thousandth time and rewriting, rewriting, rewriting, rewriting, rewriting it … I was like duuuuuuude I don’t want hear it. Enough with your life chick. Enough!

I couldn’t get my groove back and it didn’t help that the weeks were filled with the daily chaos that lives in the nooks and crannies of every mom’s life, the one that exhausts you because you got very little help, the one that you love and dislike at the same time, but the one that you’re super grateful for at the end of the day. You’re tired and grateful at the same time.

Yup.

That’s how I found myself at the end of the night, just wanting to unwind, with no creative energy pumping through my veins and onto the page. I had broken up with my main character and didn’t even know it. Has that ever happened to you? Have you ever been so into your story but then after weeks of editing you feel like … yeah it’s not me, it’s you, has that ever happened?

But after a couple of weeks … I found myself searching for her again and reacquainting myself with that badass quirky character.

I snapped out of it.

I found inspiration through podcasts that I had no idea existed.

I got some Magic Lessons from Elizabeth Gilbert, soulful help from Rob Bell, and a dream chasing curiosity session on The Nerdist featuring Brian Grazer.

I stumbled across this podcasts phenomenon by accidentally tapping on the icon in my phone and then bam! Before I knew it I was rewriting like I meant it, not just getting through the pages but reconnecting with my character, Ms. Elena, watching her future unfold and cracking up as I remembered why she was created in the first place. I reconnected with inception. I didn’t want to break up again.

I saw the Big Picture again. I saw myself reading excerpts at Vromans Bookstore and Barnes&Noble, I saw myself listening to people laugh at the story, I saw myself signing copies (at Costco maybe), I saw myself in my white tent at the annual Festival of Books, I saw myself smiling because I had a copy of my novel in my hands.

So the podcasts lit the fire and I wasn’t burning daylight or midnight anymore.

Writing and rewriting everyday…consistently. Yup consistently, which has always been a technical difficulty for me.

But I had a breakthrough  … All because of an accidental push of a button.

I like those kinds of happy accidents, because most the ones that happen to me suck. Majorly suck.

So I high-fived myself at the end of these two weeks. I let my freak flag fly at the Zac Brown Band Concert and I rocked out with the sold-out crowd, celebrating my accomplishment and enjoying the sounds of the best country band to play under the stars.

It was a great reward for keeping this writer workout going. No more break-ups here.

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Failure Happens More Than Once But You Still Recover … Just Ask Meg Ryan

I’ve always been scared of it, but realized now that I’m 40, I’ve reached the top level. Yup I’m close to Jedi Status on this one, but seeing how I still have blow ups and meltdowns, I can’t say I’ve reached the elite Zen level.

But I’m close.

I’ve become really close with it, my twenties and thirties were definitely times where failure and I became bosom buddies. And the truth is I hated failing. I didn’t look forward to that experience, or toward searching through the pain and heartache to learn the lesson that was hiding. No one does, really.

Failure is a hard thing to come back from, but I’ve realized I do a good job of it.

Relationships, family bonds, friendships, job interviews, career breaks, story writing, novel writing, article writing … I’ve had failure on every level, the most epic being parent failure as I feel that no matter how hard I try I seem to always fall short to some degree. There’s always some variation of failure staring at me by Friday night.

But the thing is I’ve learned to always get up and I don’t know if it stems from all the experience, or if it’s an inherent quality in my underdog mentality, but I first noticed it back in college when I saw a Meg Ryan flick.

Now, I don’t know if most of you are aware of Meg Ryan, but she was my 90s girl with films like When Harry Met Sally, Sleepless in Seattle, You’ve Got Mail, and City of Angels. She took over where Molly Ringwald left off

She was my go-to chick flick, and it was because of her that I first realized … anything can go wrong. Anything and everything. It can, and there’s nothing you can do to prepare for something like that.

I was reminded of this just recently when I saw my favorite Meg Ryan movie for like the thousandth time. French Kiss.

Copyright © 20th Century Fox Film Corp.

The thing is, I don’t think it was a blockbuster or made millions, in fact some people probably hated it. But for me it was such a great movie. It highlighted the fact that failure happens, even when you do everything right, it will happen to you. It will. Somewhere on your timeline failure will hit you and it’ll feel like you can’t breathe, that you can’t get up because the air has been knocked out of you, that the humiliation, embarrassment, anger, hurt, or sadness of it all won’t let you. The weight will be heavy.

Sometimes failure won’t hit you all at once, it’s peppered throughout a decade, other times it will all hit you in a week.

No matter how great a person you are, you will have a relationship that will fail and leave you listening to 80s love songs. You will break your straight A streak with a C+ in statistics and find yourself eating pints of Ben & Jerry’s just to get through it. You will be replaceable in a job where you thought you would never be forgotten. You will not get the job after that kickass interview. You will fall down, even when someone is not trying to trip you.

Yup I think Meg’s the reason why I realized I could get back up. I don’t want to give away any spoilers, but the story is about a woman who has her white-picket fence dream fall apart when her fiance leaves her, and she ends up flying to France to confront him. The story follows the physical and emotional adventure that happens because of this choice.

But best of all the film shows you someone whose world falls apart, the big things come crashing down, and then on top of that, the little things follow that same route. Failure rains down. It did on her and it does on us.

But she doesn’t give up.

Failure happened, it tore her apart and left her crying in some strange country but she kept going. She woke up and she kept going. Failure didn’t kill her, although it might have felt that way, but it didn’t. She got up and she kept trying.

I love watching this movie just to get that feeling, that sense that … dude you can get up after failure. You can and you should, because it’s probably going to happen again and you need to be standing when it does. The recovery is easier.  But you still recover if you’re on the floor, just takes a little bit longer.

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Warning: Sometimes Profanity is Involved

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I Love Cheerios, I Really Do, But They’re Right …

🙂

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