Tag Archives: Tony Robbins

I’d Have Less George and More Me …

27 Jan

I finally found a way to look at the other side and not jump off a cliff.

In an attempt to create a sequel to my Happiness Project Adventures of last year, I’ve decided to keep tracking my attempts to get as much juice as I could from the lemons life gave me and so far my Clear-Eyes-Full-Hearts-Thelma-&-Louise-you’re-different-now-kind-of-feeling  hasn’t worn off yet.

I’m happy about that.

Usually self-improvement projects, plans, bucket list items, changes, gung-ho promises made at the beginning of the year — aka resolutions — suffer setbacks or wear off. Luckily the ripples are still in the water.

image.axd

Image via Seinfeld.com

So I managed to take advantage of this mindset and continued tweaking my outlook so that certain roles within my George Costanza existence would look more appealing and the effort to improve wouldn’t feel like such a chore. I’d have a Happiness Project Adventure Sequel, a Secret Life of Walter Mitty moment or two. I’d have less George and more me.

Apparently the first step to this was to psych myself up, to give myself one of those awesome pre-game sports speeches, the kind that’s delivered by Coach Eric Taylor in Friday Night Lights (the show, not the movie), by Sean Astin in Rudy, by Kurt Russell in Miracle, and by Gene Hackman in Hoosiers.

I’m no Kurt Russell, but I did come up with some creative ways to look at the different roles within my life. I juiced it up a little so that I could look forward to these parts of my life, instead of dreading them.

And so far so good.

Instead of checkbook balancer, coupon lady, and finance checker, I thought Rainmaker would motivate me more when dealing with my finances.

Instead of working on “emotional control,” I thought Zen Master Apprentice would be more appropriate.

Instead of saying dude I have to workout, I’d look at it more like my Ninja Warrior Triathlete-Decathlete training, which sounds a little bit more awesome.

Instead of working on exercises to develop a spiritual side, I thought I’d try to be a Super Soul Sunday Engineer. Sounds like I’d get all kinds of spirit with that.

Instead of thinking of myself sometimes as just a mom who’s home with her kids for endless amounts of time trying not to get lost, I could consider myself more of a Human Spirit Adventure Developer and Life Compass Architect.

Instead of freelance writer, I could look at myself as a Future Barnes & Noble Best Seller.

Instead of looking at crappy moments like I-can’t-believe-this-just-happened-to-me-I-need-chocolate-right-now experiences, they could be envisioned as life moments to be  written up and appear in Saturday Night Live Skits, although I wouldn’t get rid of the chocolate.

Yeah.

Chocolate is still a necessity.

Even though I’ve juiced up the different parts of my life and kept the ripples in my pond going I think I’ll still keep the chocolate. George Costanza phases come and go, but like I said before hopefully with these little changes in perception I’ll have less George and more me. Don’t get me wrong, I love George, but you shouldn’t have too much of him.

 

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I Am … The Underdog Lover

19 Feb

The day after I had my rocky-road-cookie-dough ice cream meltdown, I scanned my books, journals, and old emails in order to get a positive spin on a pretty much crappy marathon of a day. You know I was looking for something to be grateful for, other than the obvious choices you see in fortune cookies.

I found a couple of inspirational quotes most of them being from people like Tony Robbins, Joel Osteen, Dale Carnegie, Elizabeth Gilbert, and Winston Churchill. Churchill … I didn’t realize he was badass. I guess you would have to be in order to be the Prime Minister of a country. My all time favorite: “If you’re going through hell, keep going.”

I thought dude … what up brother from another mother. I forgot about that one. I usually have that magnet posted on my fridge, but considering that I don’t have a fridge right now, my magnets are in the closet. Winston, you read my mind.  So I smiled and forged ahead.

Then I came across a list of what I thought were inspirational movies to watch … underdogs. You know fictional people or based-on-a-true-story people living a crappy life and then turning it around like the Pursuit of Happiness, October Sky, and Shawshank Redemption. I wasn’t a homeless unemployed single parent, although I could be. I wasn’t living in a small miner town getting my dream squashed, although dream squashing runs rampant over here. And I wasn’t falsely imprisoned forced to cook the books for the warden. Yeah … no prison time here. I thought … well I guess things could be worse. But they all made it, despite their crappy existences. I thought, I love these movies … this is what I am. I am the underdog lover.

I wish for a better existence, which is why I probably had the meltdown. Maybe wives and mothers with two kids that have a nanny, chef, personal shopper, and cleaning lady don’t have meltdowns, if they do it’s probably over their dry cleaning not being ready on time.  I wish I had dry cleaning to drop off, but then maybe my life wouldn’t be as funny. Underdogs … we’re a bad-ass species. Funny too.

So I realized I was grateful for underdog stories.

Sometimes Eating a Gallon of Rocky Road is Just Not Enough…

16 Feb
 

You have one of those days … everyone does. It starts at 4:40 a.m. when your kid wakes you up and it ends at 9:00 p.m when both kids, one of which posts a fever of 101 all day, finally go down.

You’re exhausted.

You’ve had to do it solo because your other half is conveniently stuck in traffic for the fourth night in row. You think … dude take a different route. You handled the multiple personalities that come with kid sickness. You’ve worked the mother marathon and got the backache to prove it.

Ibuprofen…what up?

You feel drained and just when you think there’s no more juice in the lemon, the writer rejection comes in and sucks it dry. Add a little mom commentary to the mix and the lemon gets smashed by a steamroller leaving little lemon zest scattered on the sidewalk. You feel rejected, dejected, deflated. You are not Superwoman. You’re not even Wonder Woman. You need Tony Robbins, because nothing is gonna pull you out of this funk. So you wallow in it for the rest of the night. Just feel bad. Everyone has a right to feel crappy one night … but just one. Drown in it and then wake up the next day, try to think of something you’re grateful for, and walk it off.

You try your punching bag for about ten minutes, but that doesn’t work.

Photo Credit: Breyers.com

So you head to the freezer, open it, and see the gallon just sitting there … why not? The Titanic has claimed this night, might as well go down with the ship accompanied by chocolate. You open the cabinets and look for a bowl. A big one.

But let’s not play these games, you know you’re going to have seconds and thirds. Why add another dirty dish to your load? All you need is a spoon. 

You plop yourself on the couch and thirty minutes later it’s gone. Granted it wasn’t completely full to begin with, but nevertheless you ate the whole tub. But you feel like Forrest Gump when he sits next to Jenny after she throws multiple stones at her rundown childhood home. He says “… Sometimes there’s just not enough rocks.”

Yeah sometimes there’s just not enough rocky road to turn the night around.

So you go back to the freezer and pull out a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough Ice Cream.

That should do it.

Most definitely.

Giddy up!

Getting side tracked

11 Jan

You ever go to bed at night with all these plans and energy for the morning, like you have Tony Robbins on speed dial? But after your potty-training son has multiple accidents on the bed and your five-month old decided to say “hey mom what’s up?” at one…three…and six in the morning you feel like you barely own enough energy to put on your back brace.   

Ugh.

I was ready to tackle that Warrior Dash workout this morning and then ended up with a crazy backache. I don’t understand how that happens. You go to bed all comfy cozy on your Serta mattress and wake up as if you moved ten pianos.

The answer? You slept wrong. How is it that you can sleep wrong? I mean how does that happen? I’ve been sleeping for thirty-five years and for some reason in the middle of the night my body defies the laws of Serta, Simmons, and Sealy sleeping logic, and I awake needing Ben-Gay. The mattress didn’t wake me up and smack me, my body just decided all on its own to do the wrong thing and the sleeping deprivation provided by kids didn’t help me much.

Then you turn to the next logical culprit: the pillow. Must be…had to be…those are the only two things contributing to your sleep. But let’s stop playing these games. It’s not the pillow. It’s you. You’ve owned this pillow anywhere from six months to a year…it has your head print there. It knows where your head belongs. It’s you. You’re old. You got the wear and tear. You malfunction in the middle of the night like a bad can opener at a tailgate. Not cool, man. Moms need sleep.

So how did I train today…I walked two miles and did ten push ups. What’s up with that? I’m not a warrior, I’m a peasant. Walked. They say walking is as effective as running and better for your knees. I should get that printed on a shirt and wear it on race day. Things will get better tomorrow…if that doesn’t work…Ibuprofen baby. Ben-Gay and Ibuprofen. Giddy up!

Surviving …how did I get here?

1 Jan

You wonder how it happens to you. I mean, you planned for something else your entire life…something…anything but this….but then just when you think things can’t get any worse…they do, and you hear things like…”well at least you’ve got your health?”

You think…I exercise, I eat right, I take care of myself …dude…. I should have my health. There’s no “at least” about it. That should be a given right? You feel like you’re living in a Spanish soap opera from Univsion or Telemundo and you’re not even the good looking one. You wish for something else, but there ain’t no genie here.

No…Not here in the middle of this thing I call life.

Did I take a wrong turn? No. I followed the rules went to one of the best schools in the state but with this economy could only get job offers for selling insurance, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but with the jobs I do want I continue to get the you’re “over qualified” speech, or the it’s-not-you-it’s-me letter. But I’ve still got my health, right?  So you look for other solutions to get you through the day, week, month, or year. Some justification. You’re searching like crazy for Tony Robbins to pop out of an elevator and wave his magic wand and then you find IT in a country song, and you’re not even from Texas, Oklahoma, or Tennessee. You’re Guatemalan and you live in California dude. But there it was … Winston Churchill said it first but Rodney Atkins added sabor!

“If You’re Going Through Hell…Keep on Going”

And there it was. I’ve got to find humor in the little things so that my wrinkles don’t accumulate or the gray hairs don’t multiply. There’s not enough Oil of Olay or Nice-n-Easy to help me out. So I’ve got to bust a move. This is it. 365 days of trying not to lose it like George Costanza over the little and big things. I’m clinging to life without meds and using humor as my compass.  How did I get here? Who the hell knows…bad luck. But how do I survive? 365 days of “keep on going”. Giddy Up!