Feel Good 5 Friday … On a Saturday

The mood in a rebounding situation varies on a daily basis as recharging my Duracell capacity requires a combination of multiple variables. Most of the time you’ve got to do it yourself. 

I heard someone say … we woke up today, might as well be badasses.

And I was like … yeah … Totally.

I mean hanging out at the Metamucil aisle at the CVS, after getting your cholesterol tested doesn’t seem badass, but you may hear that Bee Gee soundtrack when the results come out with positive numbers and you’re crushing it. Or you may hear Seven Nation Army blaring as you tell yourself you’re gonna kick some ass and get those numbers down because it’s what you got to do.

Running. Outdoors. Music. Creativity. Girls Day/Night Out.

These are the outlets contributing to recharging the battery, and this week proved to be better than most, as I had on as my music jams, meditation, and running providing the needed soul therapy required to operate. There are indeed some factors that were out of my control but focusing on that, I’ve learned, just brings the average vibe down.  I woke up a badass, remember?  Got to concentrate on what can be done bit by bit. And since I had to hit pause on my previous project, I picked up my Canon this week to see if I could continue improving on my beginner skills.

I realized the weather and sunshine were super helpful on my continued quest to find perspective this week. I have to get used to the camera and telling stories visually, instead of with words, at least for a little bit, until this break is over. Probably will help with storytelling and settings. Angles. Perspective. I’ve found that the soundtrack I play on my headphones also helps see the morning differently. The beat and the words pulse through altering my rhythmic vibrations. Don’t think that it’s making me a better picture taker, but the vibes are better.

Since we’ve been indoors most of the time, taking snapshots outdoors is my first focus. The light is better, and apparently, I have to pay attention to light a lot more now. Depending on where it lands, the light, the story says something different. Just that one aspect of a scene, changes the direction of your visual storytelling. Where the sun hits it, how it’s reflecting off the surface, what kind of colors or glow is it enhancing. Light … what a trip.

Happens with everything else in life too, just one shift makes the day different. I think that’s why I currently enjoy running, when in fact I hated running as a kid. I mean it was … ugh … dreaded. But I realize the power of the shift running can have in my mornings, the power to help frame the day into a badass state of mind and as the lady said you woke up, might as well be a badass.

So, I’m a badass … a badass with a playlist, wearing Saucony’s, sweatpants, and a baseball cap, with a fairly new Canon camera, still figuring out.

Buen Camino, my friends …

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Celso Pina – Cumbia Sobre el Rio Suena

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Vicki Sue Robinson — Turn The Beat Around

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Jon Bon Jovi — Living on a Prayer

Kool and The Gang — Get Down On It

 

Joe Cocker — With A Little Help From My Friends

 

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Feel Good 5 Friday … On a Saturday

Sometimes seeing old friends helps you remember who you used to be.

And the music that blasted through with The Weekend Top 40 with Casey Kasem hits you with a kaleidoscope of memories filled with your Nike Cortez days and TrapperKeepers in that JanSport backpack. As is with everyone these days, it’s been difficult to see people and old friends. But sometimes you find moments where it can happen. You make every effort to be cautious, get outdoors, and you get some sense of good vibes that can carry you.  

Visiting with someone that knew you way back when brings out your highlight reel and you start to think back of where you were in your life and who you used to be back then. Sometimes those are good memories, other times they may not be, depends. But this particular meetup made me think about how this person contributed to my growth as a person and that meant a lot, especially if you just want to go and say thank you to someone for making such a positive impact. She knew me during both difficult and positive times, and made life better.

I hoped she would remember all those times, but it may have been difficult considering she was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. It was sad to hear that happened to my old coach, my mentor. I know she was looking forward to retirement and traveling with her family, enjoying the rewards of all her hard work. But this major curve ball got sent her way and it hit me in the pit of my stomach. 

Don’t know if she’d remember all the pieces of advice she gave me on and off the court, the lessons in leadership, the lessons during a loss, during season-ending injuries, during wins, during championships and of course beyond school and into the “real world”. She wouldn’t remember coaching us and everything she contributed. That’s the part that made me sad. She was such a big part in everyone’s life and here she was sitting a few feet away unsure of what the future would bring now that she’d have to live with this new life, different from what she imagined.

I don’t know how fast it will progress but I hoped for the best, I hoped for her memories to last a little bit longer. That’s what I wished for her as a sat there looking across at her and I reintroduced myself. I wanted to talk to her but didn’t want to overwhelm her with too many memories. Too much too soon. We all took a beat to slow it down. 

I stopped thinking of what she might lose and just tried to talk to her and make her smile. Enjoyed the conversation that everyone was having, picked up on the bits and pieces of their lives, and found comfort in taking a trip back to the past. Talking about old times and cracking up at our old ways and old game stories. Thanked her for being able to come, just to see her and get a chance to talk to her. I know she probably changed the lives of many girls, girls who grew up to be leaders, teachers, mothers, CEO’s, coaches, or writers.  I drove off hoping that she’d remember today and even if she didn’t remember all the details of the conversation, maybe at least she’d remember the feeling of being there and the comfort of knowing that she inspired so many people to become better versions of themselves. And being there reminded me of who I used to be and who I wanted to be. It was a good feeling. A good flashback, followed by a good soundtrack. 

Buen Camino …

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The Romantics — What I Like About You

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Technotronic — Move This

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Los Hermanos Flores — La Bala

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Rob Base — It Takes Two

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UB40 — Here I Come Baby

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Feel Good 5 Friday … Sounds

React and respond.

Almost the same, but not quite as I was recently reminded of their differences. One is more intense and sometimes associated with a negative connotation, as in, we gave him the food and he had an allergic reaction to it. Respond on the other hand tends to swing on the positive end of the spectrum, as in, she is responding well to physical therapy and we see improvements in her range of motion.

React and respond.

I hadn’t really thought about them for awhile, until I replayed that podcast and until I’d seen a preview for a recent film The Ultimate Playlist of Noise. I haven’t seen the movie, but the preview revealed an interesting concept. A boy on the verge of losing his hearing permanently, decides to go on a massive road trip to record all his favorite sounds before it’s too late, so that he can then watch others respond to his playlist. Maybe some people would react. But I imagine most would respond. I’ll have to take a look and see how it pans out.

I was debating watching it. It’s got a Dawson’s Creek WB kind of vibe to it and I wasn’t ever a fan of that, so I’m not jumping to watch it. I bet if it had Kyle Chandler or John Cusack in it I’d definitely watch it. But we’ll see. I’m thinking about it. The story is what’s peaking my interest most. The Ultimate Playlist of Noise.

I can’t imagine how many songs I’d include. My love of funk, disco, 70s, and 80s is endless.

I find that concept fascinating. I figure one of the first sounds would probably be my kids cracking up. That laughter is contagious and spurs chuckles and smiles. The beach and the sound of the waves is something I’d probably add to the playlist as well, it brings me such peace that I listen to it before going to bed sometimes, or if I’m working on a project. Those would be the first two. Instantly, but I’d have to stop and think about the rest. Maybe the crowd going wild at a game cheering on the ultimate score, or maybe the crowd at a concert singing along with their favorite artist. Or maybe the sound of light rain in the morning. I’d have to think about it. All kinds of possibilities.

Reactions and responses. Apparently they’ve become very popular. I was looking up videos to post here about my Friday 5 and wouldn’t you know it, they had guys reacting and responding to songs, with hundreds and thousands of views. People watching, people listening to a song for the first time. All kinds of reaction and response videos to songs I’ve heard my whole life, to songs I’ve had on my playlist. To the videos. It was trip. Funny if you’re feeling down. Someone else’s mood and laughter is contagious if it’s genuine.

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I stopped and watched one or two and it was definitely funny to see the laughter and expressions. Witnessing something for the first time is a moment to capture. Can’t get firsts back. Once they’re gone, they’re gone so it’s best to remember. And maybe that’s why that movie was made, to make that very point. The first and the last, they’re always worth it. Responses and reactions.

So this week I put some love, soul, and funk on the list. Hope if it’s your first time you enjoy it, and if it takes you back, way back, to when you had a Pee Chee folder or Trapper Keeper in you locker, well then all right. Sending you good vibes and good responses.

Buen Camino.

Terence Trent D’Arby — Wishing Well

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The Emotions — Best of My Love

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Los Angeles Azules — 17 Anos

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Rick Astley — Never Gonna Give You Up

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Lenny Williams — Because I Love You

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Feel Good 5 Friday … on Saturday Night

I might have to change the title if this keeps happening. I really might.

But life and weariness hits us all in different ways at the end of the week. Sometimes you tell yourself I’m just gonna sit here for a minute and then the next thing you know you’re all cozied up with a comfy blanket dreaming.

But as I was looking back on the week, I remembered some of the feel-good moments that matched the vibes of my songs. There was one moment in particular that’s still with me.

One of the positives I’ve discovered during the pandemic is being able to appreciate the little wonderous moments that happen, the kind I’d pay attention to before and put them in the Jar of Awesome, but now the simple moments seem to be even more special and I take note. I appreciate the little bit of magic happening during on an uncharacteristically windy day reminiscent of those strong Chicago breezes I imagine.

Out early for what I’ve called a therapy run that helps kick off my days, no one out, not even dog walkers so I was able to wear one of the lighter running masks where I could feel the fresh air reaching my lungs. Ran passed my neighborhood and reached the fancy houses about a mile out, surrounded by large sycamore trees, palm trees, orange and lemon trees, shrubs, rose gardens, and lavender bushes. When I reached my midway point, a gust of wind rustled the huge branches and a flurry of giant crunchy leaves took off and danced in circles, and hanging out in the sky. Doing there thing. It was one of the coolest moments of the week. A little bit of nature magic, tapping me with it’s beauty. My run slowed down to a jog in that moment so I could check out the scene from my own personal highlight reel. I was glad to get caught up in the moment, feeling the feel-good vibes surrounding me.

Feeling the cold fresh air in my lungs, I closed my eyes and joined the twirling for a moment. Nature had invited me to the party and I didn’t want to say no.

Moments like this I’ve learned to appreciate even more. I was pretty good at being present and appreciated the good that came my way, especially The Great Outdoors. But this extra something is a feeling I like to hold onto. It’s simple. No flash. No fireworks, really. Just feel good vibes the sky and trees trying to send me, and I accepted the blessing and held onto it the rest of the day … and the week, really.

So in times of frustration when kids began tuning out my voice and not listening to directions or just bringing on an added volume of 10 when I needed a 5, I went back to the dancing leaves in the wind, their twists and turns, catching air pockets in different directions until the reached the ground. That moment of simplicity. That was Zen … Zen in the city.

I was grateful to be accompanied by a good playlist. But I did pause it. I paused it just to listen to the wind and leaves., to be in the moment and soak it up. After the wind settled, I raised the volume back up and continued the good vibrations, carrying them with me along with the cold crisp air, looking forward to the possibilities of my next 100 Day-Challenge.

Buen Camino my friends!

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Coldplay & The Chainsmokers — Something Just Like This

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Real McCoy — Another Night

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Charlie Zaa & La Sonora Santanera – Se Me Perdio La Cadenita

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UB40 – Red Red Wine

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Paul McCartney — Coming Up

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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!

He’s My Driving Force, Even When I Run Out of Gas

Every year I feel like I can’t do it, but then I remember my purpose, and it gives me strength to keep going. I find that as I get older, purpose becomes the driving force that sustains me through challenges. The stronger the purpose pulls at my heart the greater the force that drives me.

Success, wins, or goals feel empty if the purpose lacks substance.

I find that obstacle races and running breathe fresh air into my life and help return me back to center. Peace is my driving force, but this one race, every year, this one is for something bigger than myself.

The 63 stories, 1,393 steps I climbed at the American Lung Association’s Fight for Air Climb was for my Dad, for what he represents to me, to my life, and to my kids. He was my purpose.

The thoughts of him holding my hand and walking with me out in the patio in our bell-bottoms when I was little, gave me strength to keep taking those steps. The thought of him giving me rides to school at 7 a.m. after he had finished his night shift, kept me going. The thought of seeing him clap for me as the basketball swooshed through the net at one of my games pushed me further. The thought of him being there for me even though he had his own dreams, and troubles, gave me strength to move forward when my body felt like breaking down. The thought of us being friends when I was older helped me reach the top when all my muscles just wanted me to stop. The thought of holding his hand in the hospital room and being the last one to talk to him, to see him alive, that made me teary-eyed as I caught my breath, kissed my fingertips and pointed to the sky. He was there when I reached the finish line.

He’s my driving force, even when I run out of gas.

It was tough this year. I say that a lot, but my aching knees definitely think that this year, the seventh year, was testing the limits. I mean before I even start, I always imagine the previous year and how difficult it was for me to reach the top, and I think it can’t be more difficult than that, but then I start the race and it is … it is more difficult, because I feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel every single year of my life in those bones and muscles of mine when I climb. It hit me when I saw the 20th floor sign, and I tried my best not to look at the signs as I ran up the claustrophobic stairwells, but sometimes there was no where else to look, but up.

My calves were burning, my legs felt weak and my chest heavy as I tried to breathe.

And then I grew even more exhausted because it was only 20. I had 43 more floors to go. And so I went, passing people sitting on steps, clinging onto the walls, and holding onto to handrails just trying to regulate their breath, trying just to make it. Getting to the halfway mark made me feel better I thought I was almost there, but my legs disagreed with me in the most volatile voice.

But I dug deep because it was for the one man that’d seen all my flaws and shine and loved me through it all the best way he could. I dug deep because so many friends, old and new, read his story and donated to the cause to help someone else’s Dad, someone else’s mom, brother, sister, son, or daughter. They made a difference in the lives of someone searching for a cure, someone trying to raise awareness, someone trying to breathe a better breath.

I made it to the stop and took a moment to hold onto that feeling, a moment to remember my purpose as I looked out at the city.

He was worth it. Every step. Every ice pack. Every rock of lavender Epsom salt that my muscles needed. Every bit of that Ben-Gay. It was Gatorade-Worthy.

Buen Camino my friends!

 

I Found My Peace Among the Kitchen-Aid Mixer and Melted Chocolate … Happy 70th Birthday Dad

70 is a big birthday. It’s a time to reflect on your life, think about vacation plans, hobbies, or things you have yet to try, dreams you have yet make real. At least that’s what I imagine it to be … a big cake, surrounded by family and friends, some chaos of course, but making an awesome wish and blowing out the candles anyway.

This, of course, did not happen.

I spent the early morning running at the park as the sun peaked out for its daily appearance. I took some time to pause for a moment and wonder what he would have been up to or what conversations we would have had that day if he was still here. I imagine I would have woken him up to take a morning walk and then possibly taken him out to breakfast.

Nothing flashy, but just time well spent hearing stories I had yet to hear.

My Dad would have turned 70 years old yesterday and as it happens every year his presence is missed even more on this particular day. Father’s Day and Thanksgiving are big ones of course, but his birthday celebrates the day he was brought into this world and the day his journey, and ultimately mine, began.

Birthdays are times for celebration and remembering the best parts of the life cut short, but I couldn’t help feel that nagging twinge of pain, the kind that never goes away when you lose a parent, or loved one. The thing is you’re not supposed to be in mourning, you’re just not. But there is a moment of sadness that grips my heart because he’s not sharing the same sunshine.

And I tried not to let it hold onto me too long, because the sadness can linger all day or all week. You miss them. You just do and you’re always going to miss them because their presence was more powerful than the butterfly effect. It directly impacted your future and your kids’ future.

It wasn’t until I was alone in the kitchen mixing up Julia Child’s chocolate almond cake with hot cocoa almond frosting that a calmness settled in. I knew he wasn’t going to be there to enjoy a hearty slice or two with his cup of coffee. I knew there would be no stories and laughter at the table.

Then why do you celebrate someone who’s not there?

I celebrate because I remember when they were here and it mattered. His imprint and voice still effects how I live my life, and how I dream my dreams. I celebrate even though I’m sad. And even though I couldn’t hear his laughter that day and see him blow out his candles I knew my kids would.  I knew they would have a couple of slices and that there would be new stories at family dinner.

Not many people in my inner circle know how this pulls at me in different directions. I don’t speak much about my dad’s birthday with others when they ask, hey what are you doing today?

I don’t mention the cake, or balloons, or dinner of his favorite treats. I tell the kids, of course, but I keep it pretty hush-hush which is weird because I write about him and his birthday a lot. Don’t know if that happens to other people, but writing about it feels better than talking about it. At least to adults anyway. The kids just … they just seem to get it. They get that birthdays are important. It’s simple for them. Frosting is required when things are important.

And so …

I found my peace among the Kitchen-Aid Mixer, melted chocolate, butter, flour, the egg whites, and sugar. I remembered some of the stories of him playing soccer when he was 10, or of his dream of taking his mother back to Spain, I remember his affinity for corn-beef sandwiches on rye bread with a pickle for lunch, or his cup of coffee before bedtime, or his random call just to say hello. I remembered some of the stories yesterday and thought about him as the breeze blew and I felt the wind on my face as the sun shined.

I thought maybe that was his way of blowing out the candle, while we sang Happy Birthday.

But it could have been just the wind, like my kids said. And I needed to hurry up because the candle wax was dripping and it couldn’t melt on the cake … you know … because frosting is important.

 

Buen Camino my friends.

 

On My 1000th Post I’m Keeping All of It … Because I’m Looking for The Power of Failure

What is it that finds you this year?

Last year inspiration struck after watching a Seinfeld episode. Kramer came crashing into Jerry’s apartment as always and he had his everyday balloons, not his New Year’s Eve balloons but his everyday balloons and I wanted that for myself.

And so in 2017 I went out to find them. And I did. My resolutions, my quest, my mission, my goals, my bucket list items, my journeys … Whatever I called it, I found it. And being the mother of two Nickelodeon-aged kids who go on adventures and try my patience on a weekly basis … It was hard. But I did it. I found the sparkle in the everyday shenanigans and they were there to help me. A lot of things managed to push the scales in my favor.

Podcasts became the X factor for me last year.  I found all these good nooks and crannies on Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday Conversations, The Tim Ferriss Show, The Robcast, This American Life, TED Talks Daily, and StoryCorps. These story whispers traveled through time and space to get to me and give me something I needed, just like reading books, articles, or WordPress blog posts or watching movies or shows on Netflix or Amazon reminded me of a lesson learned when I needed reminding.

Running  in The Great Outdoors was also a piece of the puzzle that helped me get it together. The magic of the path hidden among the trees and hills was the daily therapy to help me find my center.

And the thing is … I’m still going to need the same things this year.

I may find something new, but I’ve learned that this system works for me. It helps find the everyday balloons, pockets of happiness, silver linings playbook mentality necessary to thrive.

So I’m keeping all of it.

Yup.

I need it in 2018 as well because I realized what works for me when I’m trying to find the funny. And this is my formula, so I’m keeping it. All of it. Probably adding a few things as the months go by though, because this year I’m looking to find  the Power of Failure. It seems like a downer, but it’s a glass-half-full mentality. I know that with writing and parenthood, failure is going to happen. It’s part of the process, I’ve got to take my underdog mentality and find what the power of it is this year. In the midst of the heartache, tears, frustration, and gallons, upon gallons of Rocky Road ice cream, I’m gonna try to find the power of failure this year. Because most of the time I just think it just sucks. I get back up again and I’m ready for Round II, III, and IV but I still think failure sucks.

I’m gonna try to spin it around and see if it adds to the good-time-noodle-salad moments of life. That’s the the quest this year. It’s not going to involve comparing my failures with others, or seeing how further ahead others are on their life journey, but to see if the power of failure can help me in mine. I’m gonna wait and see …

I’m gonna wait for it.

So on my 1000th post of WordPress on this mini milestone of a moment, I’m gonna mark it with my quest to finding the Power of Failure this year.

Buen Camino my friends!

 

 

 

 

Dude … The Magic of Garth and Shark Week Living on 42

I felt like I was riding a wave of electricity in a thundolt-filled sky.

The energy brought life into my life, and for the third time in my existence, I crossed off a Bucket List Item in honor of my birthday. I wasn’t sure how I would celebrate the big 42. I wasn’t worried as much as when I turned 40. Not because it wasn’t a big day, it always is, but because both Jackie Robinson and James Worthy wore No. 42 jerseys, so that had to be a sign of awesomeness to come in my year of 42 … At least that’s what I thought.

But it was even better.

The Magic of Garth can overpower any bad spells on any given day, and turn a good day into a great night — the unforgettable ones that belong in The Jar of Awesome.

In spite of a couple of personal snags that evening, which could have sucked the blue out of the sky, I was still … STILL able to enjoy the sparkle and wonder of the Big Magic that is Garth Brooks. I had a little bit of it sprinkled on me as I experienced the musical testimony of of this cowboy dude. He had the power to erase bad conversations, frustrations, anger, and ill thoughts. He had the power of the ocean.

Two Pina Coladas. That Summer. Thunder Rolls. Unanswered Prayers. Shameless. Friends in Low Places. And … And his new song  Ask Me How I Know. Not to mention his duet with Trisha Yearwood and her solo songs that night.

And it was awesome. He left it all out on the stage and it was inspiring, contagious, live-your-life-like-this energy.

Definitely a great way to celebrate a birthday and live in the moment, in that live-your- life-like-Shark-Week moment I was talking about last week. Every single person surrounding me surged with the good vibes of country music’s finest.

Feeling the energy with Brooks on stage.

I felt like he was smiling at me.

The Big Magic

Miss Trisha singing one of my favorites

The ending … Part I because there was then core and housecleaning 🙂

 

I had never been to one of his concerts before, and now I know what I’ve been missing out on. It was a never-disappointed nighttime adventure.

The birthday celebration began with the greatness of the sandy beaches on a California coast with my kids, coupled with good food. Then the night …the night was filled with The Magic of Garth.

It was the kind of birthday weekend I like to imagine. It gave me a day to spend with my family and live the best mom life on the beach, riding waves and building sand castles under the Californian sun, and then The Night with Garth which fed my feel-good feelings soul of the regular Chapsiptick girl in me.

Blowing out birthday candles, wishing for big dreams, and Bucket List Adventures involving The Magic of Garth Brooks was a good way to ring in the Year of 42. Shark Week Living and Garth Brooks … Definitely a great combination.

 

Buen Camino my friends!