We're better than this....

We're better than this! read a bumper sticker on a car in front of me. It grabbed me. Made me say, "Yes. We are. I am." Even before I figured out than what? So on New Year's Day, when everybody makes resolutions, that might be a great place to start.

Here are some things I know I'm better than, and I REFUSE to bring them into 2017:

1. I'm better than getting annoyed about things over which I have no control. The other day my friend and I conferred about important things to put on our To Do lists. She offered one for me: "Remember what a good life you have." She's right. So when random things threaten to get on my nerves, I allow myself to focus on one of those wonderful things I have going for me, and move on.
2. I'm better than assuming that I know what's best for other people. When someone complains or commiserates, I can listen, but I must allow them to feel what they feel. Often I try to talk a friend or loved one into feeling better. But I'm reading Marianne Williamson's Tears to Triumph: The Spiritual Journey from Suffering to Enlightenment. She suggests that we make the effort to understand what lessons our pain and distress can teach us instead of trying to escape them. And I agree. So my "fixing" conversations probably get in the way of other people's growth.
3. I'm better than planning poorly. There's no excuse for overcommitting and overfilling my calendar. I'm beyond rushing to accomplish ordinary tasks, sacrificing quality because I procrastinated, or feeling resentment because I said "yes" to something that should have been a "no."
4. I'm better than creating stress for myself. I'm busy, but focused and mellow. (That's the vision I want to hold of myself.) If I think before I speak or move in a direction, then I can cruise most of the time. Because we usually made the choices that led to the stress.

As usual, I come back to the same thing. Take time to know yourself, then honor what you know. Make decisions that feed your soul. You're better than being on automatic with your precious life.

   

On teaching, blessings and stiff spines....

I love the fall. It officially launches my new year. Feels like new beginnings. I get all reflective and start setting goals. This week I thought about how I started my journey in the world of education and how many fall seasons I made transitions--AT&T to lateral entry teacher, to district grant writer, to project developer, to freelance consultant, back to teaching. All fall changes....

So now I teach, but I don't really call myself an educator. It's what I do--not what I am. What it is is that I enjoy working with kids who need a leg up. Never knew how much I would until I stopped working at AT&T a couple of decades ago and had to choose something else to do besides writing stories (since there was no life-sustaining check attached to that vocation).

So I taught for two years in a tiny NYC public school for kids with severe handicaps. And I loved it. I bonded with all these hard-partying teachers and administrators who loved the hell out of our population of teens with cerebral palsy, life-threatening seizures, Downs Syndrome, and diseases you only hear about in movies and medical journals. Many had started their lives in Willowbrook--the asylum Geraldo Rivera exposed and got shut down for inhumane conditions.

Fall reminds me that we're as lucky as we realize. Fall says to me plant your feet, take stock, and get ready for what's coming. Whether it's kids coming back to school, hurricane season, or frost and the ensuing ice and snow. Life can be tough, but mostly it's merciful if you get your mind right. If you know better than to get "down in your cups" and fall into self pity about how hard your life is right now. Jobs aren't perfect, we don't always get what we want, people don't act the way we want them to, not to mention the weather......

But.....

It always behooves me to remember the kids I met in that small school when I first entered the world of education. And to remember their parents who wished their kids had homework or that they could do anything at all on their own. Parents who were grateful for nonprofit organizations who provided a night of respite so they could actually have a normal night's sleep. A night when they didn't have to listen out for a medically-fragile kid. 

So with this change of season, be mindful of your mindset. Keep your spine straight and your eyes peeled on the many ways that you're fortunate. There are so many who suffer in ways that are beyond what you'd even imagine. 

People often say I'm always smiling and that I'm so cheerful. But I've seen what suffering is, so in my heart I know I've nothing to frown about.

Casting the Dark Shadows Aside

Sometimes I think about something from my past that makes me cringe. I imagine most people have similar memories that make them want to cover their eyes and wish they could go back and undo that episode or chapter in their lives. 

When I was in my 30s, I spent a lot of time recovering from my 20s! :>) I had a scroll of regrets that shook my confidence and made me feel less than I should have. I didn't want to send out my stories--didn't want to call attention to myself for fear the past would creep up and bite me in the butt.

Then I realized everybody's got their own stuff. The self-centeredness of youth made me think my mistakes were of interest to anybody else. (Since I'm not a politician.) We all have our less-than-optimal moments: as children, students, lovers, spouses, parents, employees, siblings, and family members. Many of us have had our dark hours and wicked phases. 

Now and then I'll still have a random memory that makes me suck in my breath and wish I could take it back. But this morning I decided to embrace it all. Might be because I'm reading a LOT of good fiction, and good fiction introduces us to characters who show us all sides of their personalities and history. And that's what makes them come alive and makes us root for them.

So I challenge you to reconsider your dark shadows. To let them reside comfortably among the finer moments. To do so is to accept all of you--all parts of yourself. Last year I read Learning to Love Yourself: A guide to becoming centered by Gay Hendricks. It was the first time I'd encountered the notion of immediate acceptance of our flaws and mistakes as they happen. That becomes the way to truly meet your potential. Iyanla Vanzant is a perfect example with her boat load of hardships and a past that could've choked the life out of her.

I realize now that it makes perfect sense to accept it all. I have been a fool many many times, and I'm sure there are many more foolish episodes to come. But the energy spent regretting takes away the positive power from the moment I'm living.

In the throes of disturbing news....

When horrible things happen, I go in overdrive to find a positive. I'm not a Pollyanna. Yes, bad things happen to good people all the time. Reality is.

This weekend a group of young people organized a peace rally downtown. They were young adults--from late teens to early 20s. One of the chants they bellowed as they marched was, "This is what democracy looks like!" And indeed it does. All races and genders were represented--a true  rainbow of young folks planning, collaborating, and linking arms. I was heartened.

E.L. Doctorow was my mentor back at NYU. Even though I was a committed writer, like many of my peers, I was both wild and clueless. During one of our sessions, I remember he said he was disheartened by the lack of student advocacy on American campuses. That the Civil Rights' momentum gained much-needed traction when young people in communities and on campuses showed commitment and support. Likewise with Vietnam. He was basically saying young people had to be actively involved in the shaping of their future.

On Saturday, his words came back to me, and I understood what he meant. Although I plan to be around for a long time, young people now are different from my generation, and their future will, hopefully, be different from ours. I have always said that racism and gender bias never surprise me because many of the same people who fought vehemently to maintain segregation and the status quo are still alive and well. And many who aren't did a fine job of indoctrinating their offspring.

But those who are now coming of age (at least those in larger, more urbanized areas) have a different history. Many, if not most, have not lived in fear of differences. Interracial dating and marriage, gender choices, biracial children, interracial and interethnic adoptions, interfaith communities have existed during their entire lifetimes. Many of their neighborhoods, classrooms, sports teams, transportation systems, workplaces, etc. have  exposed them continually to differences. From my perspective, they've grown up in a world that, I hope, minimizes the fear factor.

There will always be outliers,. But I (optimist that I am) truly believe that sometimes when bad things happen, it casts a much-needed light beneath putrid underbellies requiring exposure and healing. I sometimes view the victims as souls whose lives become symbolic of change and enlightenment. Change generally happens slowly, and sometimes very painfully.

When there's violence, hatred, ignorance, I believe fear (in one of its many guises) is the true motivation. On Saturday, it was good to see young people putting themselves out there saying they are not afraid--especially not of each other.

Happy isn't down the road....

A few months back I told my friend enthusiastically that I “might never actually retire.” I was referring to my teaching job. She thought I’d lost my mind. Never retire? For always, my ultimate goal had been to leave my day job so I could write full-time. A few days ago, with my lengthy summer vacation drawing to a close, she reminded me of my response—checking to see if sanity had returned. I love my time off, so I barely remembered saying such a thing. Never retire? What? So had I lost my mind when I said I might never stop teaching?

It dawned on me today just what happened! I’ve come to the place of  “acceptance” as a way of life.  Eckhart Tolle says, “Acceptance means: For now, this is what this situation, this moment, requires me to do, and so I do it willingly.” He goes on to say:

“When you make the present moment, instead of past and future, the focal point of your life, your ability to enjoy what you do—and with it the quality of your life—increases dramatically. … The ‘waiting to start living’ syndrome is one of the most common delusions of the unconscious state. Expansion and positive change on the outer level is much more likely to come into your life if you can enjoy what you are doing already. … Joy does not come from what you do, it flows into what you do and thus into this world from deep within you.”

So my response had everything to do with fully accepting the here and now, the present. Without even realizing it, I had lost the low-grade frustration and discontent that used to crop up randomly and frequently. I finally embraced the notion that a happy life is not something that’s waiting up ahead for us once all our conditions are satisfied. We often think that once we make more money, get rid of that extra twenty pounds, get a new job, get into a relationship, get the kids raised, fix the roof, get that wart removed, retire, or whatever, then we will finally be happy. 

People can feel depressed, anxious, disappointed, and chronically frustrated because the present state isn’t living up to the ideas they have about themselves and their lives. Since (as I so often say) life is a journey, it behooves us to keep our dreams and goals alive, but know in our hearts that our lives are here and now. If you died tomorrow, you will have died waiting to get to “happy.”

I’ll quote Eckhart one last time:

“Don’t ask your mind for permission to enjoy what you do. All you will get is plenty of reasons why you can’t enjoy it. ‘Not now,’ the mind will say. ‘Can’t you see I’m busy? There’s no time. Maybe tomorrow you can start enjoying...’ That tomorrow will never come unless you begin enjoying what you are doing now.”

So even though this is the last official day of my summer vacation, my soul is very happy because right here and now I’m drinking coffee and blogging in my pajamas. 

Concern for others or fear for self?

I'm often the problem solver in my family and friends circle. When someone talks about an illness, a problem, a conflict, etc. my antenna rises, and my mind churns overtime. I can't count the hours that I've mulled over somebody else's hardship of the moment-- unable to rest until I'd shared some possible solutions.

Why? Because I love them. I want them to be happy and healthy and free of worry. I don't want anybody to fall into depression, sickness, or poverty, nor do I want them to give up. If I can't solve it, then I can at least be a cheerleader. 

But lately there have been rumblings in my soul that question my true intentions. I'm starting to suspect that my motivation may be less honorable than I'd imagined. There are actually two sides to my modus operandi. Yes I do love them, but the other side of that coin is fear for myself.

A while back, my close friend (We'll call her Nora.) was overwhelmed by being a single parent away from her home up north. She was a part of our close inner circle of parents who supported each other regularly by babysitting, sharing about issues, and getting together to socialize. Whenever Nora mentioned going back home, I ticked off a list of reasons why our little city was better for childrearing, education, travel, making a living, and making ends meet. She always felt better about where she was by the end of the conversation, but I now realize it was never resolved for her. Most of what I said was probably true. But the underlying impetus for my aggressive counterarguments was fear that Nora would leave. That I would miss her and her children. That my life would change in a way that I wasn't ready for.

So sometimes my investment in other people's problems might mask the question of What will happen to me? 

I now see that the answer to that question is What happens to me isn't important. 

WHAT??!!

It's true. Everybody gets to have their journey. They get to move, fall off the wagon, waste their money, eat lousy food, overmedicate, break the law, ignore their health, lose their minds. Whether I like it or not. My late night phone calls and amateur coaching does not spin other people's lives on a dime. 

I know that's true because I definitely reserve and protect my right to do whatever the hell I please. It's my life, and it really is nobody else's business how I live it. If I'm not hurting anybody, then so be it. 

My point: Having relationships means limited involvement in other folks' lives. Sharing opinions and advice when asked is natural and healthy. But ongoing input, observations and monitoring crosses the line. That veers into the realm of wanting what we want for that person. Question your motivation for being involved. Don't ignore the fact that there is a natural life process that requires gathering experiences, abiding one's consequences, revamping, reorienting--- learning.

Things will happen to others on their journey. Our true need is not to always interfere, rescue, invest. Because most of what happens is simply out of our control. Our personal job is to gather the courage to live with what happens along the way, so that we retain the energy needed to make sense of our own lives.

I'll reiterate a saying that I love: The best thing we can give to others is the example of our own life working.

Didn't read Salt in the Sugar Bowl yet? Order your copy today!  

And check my website for upcoming events.

http://mainstreetrag.com/bookstore/product-tag/salt-in-the-sugar-bowl/

Growing pains

from Webster's Dictionary

growing pains

 noun plural

: pains in the legs of children who are growing

: the problems that are experienced as something (such as a business or a project) grows larger or more successful

Love it! I think we're conditioned to avoid pain. We're a feel good society. We recoil when we get uncomfortable, but that second definition tells us that if we're going to have the life we want, we've got to have some discomfort. It's important to know the difference between the pain of unhappiness and that from venturing into deeper waters and uncharted territory.

I find that my growing pains are mostly emotional. I have worn grooves in my mind by responding to many things and challenges in the same way. For instance:

When I'm very busy and feel it in my body, I always start fearing what's going to happen to me. I get scared that I might get sick. I look for trouble. I lay in bed thinking about how much I have to get done, then start counting the days till the busy is all over and I can get more rest. I'm very busy right now. On top of teaching high schoolers, I'm stretching myself to conduct creative writing workshops and participate in public readings.

But, this time I'm going to do it differently! Instead of getting scared because my schedule is tight, I'm going to flip the script and get excited. Let's see what happens if I choose to let some little things go so I can get to bed on time. I'll plan with a bit more detail so I can keep calm and healthy.

The other alternative is to run from the growing pains, get through the rough part in a blurred funk and pretty much return to the status quo. I'm not saying we should run ourselves ragged. But if we have a vision for where we want to go in life, or we have a passion that we want to pursue, we have to find a place for it. The tricky part is adjusting the old to make room for the new. Of being uncomfortable enough for things to change shape and direction, for our lives to morph into something we haven't experienced before.

I think it might be the only way to grow into the next phase of our journey. We won't know how to get to the new if we can't endure the growing pains with the right attitude.

Didn't read Salt in the Sugar Bowl yet? Order your copy today!  

And check my website for upcoming events.

It's never going to be perfect

Some of the deepest insights about life that I've encountered have been spoken by fictional characters. I ran across this line from a J. California Cooper novel which is definitely food for thought.

"Occasionally, actually quite often, someone will refer to a family or person as dysfunctional. Which, I believe, is a sign of ignorance, for the obvious reason that 70 or 80 percent of all the people who have ever lived were dysfunctional. The other 20 or 30 percent tried to be, or had sense enough to be, a little wiser. Among them, the greatest were disliked, hated, killed, or crucified. And they weren’t even perfect, except one."
— Opening sentence of “Life Is Short But Wide” by J. California Cooper

"Dysfunctional" is a term that is, indeed, used a lot. My take is that if we're raised by humans, we're going to have issues (which is really just another way of saying dysfunction)--because nobody's perfect. So when we accept that we are likely to have some burrs in our psyches, I contend that life gets easier.

Why? 

Because if we accept the imperfection of the human experience, we stop expecting to achieve TV love, an immaculate home, flawless performances, cookie cutter lives, or a personal status in which we have all the answers. We will also cut ourselves some slack, stop feeling sorry for ourselves, get beyond "Woe is me," and realize that life is tough all over. Sometimes it's a challenge to accept this mindset because the media bombards us with images of the perfection journey on which we should all be embarked! 

Once we get the "It's never going to be perfect mindset," we can finally develop realistic visions for authentic relationships; homes filled with real people; bodies that have grown and birthed people in them; jobs that are satisfying but are still a lot of work; or bank accounts that can't support a BMW, but that put food on the table.  That's what grounds us. That's what actually diminishes the level of dysfunction or the impact of issues.

Because the bottom line when it comes to dysfunction or having issues is that we, as individuals, elected to stick to a script that wasn't of our making. We chose to proceed blindly down a path designed by others instead of using our power to hack away the vines and stumps until we made our own.

Simply put, we can choose to live on purpose and commit to live examined lives. Not a life that requires a PhD in psychology, but one in which we take time to check ourselves when we:

• try to control everything and everybody, 
• nitpick about normal human behavior
• blame others for imagined infractions
• develop tendencies and habits that make life worse
• become a doormat for anybody
• use others as doormats
• get so busy there's no time to think
• let the external world destroy peace of mind
• scare ourselves from fully participating in the myriad options that life presents

I have to check myself when I become critical, grumpy and hard-to-please. It's usually a sign that (internally) I'm not living up to some real or imagined standard I've placed on myself. The important message I usually get is that it rarely has much to do with the other person/people. It has to do with me. Because people are going to be who they are. And if (according to Cooper's character's assessment) 70-80% are dysfunctional, it's on me to get my own mind right so I can live a peaceful and satisfying life. 

Peace and love!

Get your copy of Salt in the Sugar Bowl! It's available from the publisher (Main Street Rag) or on Amazon. Find out how Sophia Sawyer's issues (inherited from a media-influenced mother) contribute to the abandonment of her six children.

Stay tuned for information about my writing workshops for teens and adults at the Neuse Regional Library Literary Festival in Kinston, NC on September 27, 2014.

Authenticity in action

In an interview following Terry McMillan's appearance at Quail Ridge Book Store in Raleigh, I was asked what was the most remarkable aspect of the event. It didn't take me long to respond. It was definitely her authenticity. (See this great article about the event. http://www.midtownraleighnews.com/2014/07/13/4003017/midtown-muse-mcmillan-brings-fresh.html)

For me, authenticity stands out as one of the most important values a person can live by.
Why? Because many people with abandonment issues have a hard time with being authentic.
Why? Because so many people with abandonment issues are codependent-- which makes them people pleasers.

I took this quote from the  mental health America website: "Codependents have low self-esteem and look for anything outside of themselves to make them feel better. They find it hard to 'be themselves.'"

Key phrase: They find it hard to be themselves. 

We sort of live in a society of copycats. There are so many ways not to be authentic:
- jumping on the latest bandwagon--in opinions, style, desires, speech, interests
- pretending not to care when you do
- pretending to care when you don't
- playing to the crowd instead of coming from the heart
- following a blueprint when it comes to emotions because that's how you're supposed to feel

(These 21 Quotes on Authenticity spell out what it's all about.)

So back to Terry McMillan. With plenty of time for questions from the audience, it was priceless to see her personality in action, in public. There was no posturing. I couldn't detect any censoring. I got the sense she was digging into herself to answer honestly and clearly. She was so off-the-cuff: with her facial expressions, with the information she chose to share, even with what she chose to read (A child was asked to leave the room because what she read wouldn't be appropriate for young ears). Love it!

Why was this important to me?

As a writer, I needed/need to believe that there is no "formula." We now have access to TED Talks, bulleted How To lists, and resources to prepare us for any topic/situation we can imagine. The fallout: an era of continuous searching for the right way to do it (whatever it is). Don't get me wrong, information is great-- as long as it doesn't kill our ability to be spontaneous, to trust our own instincts, to friggin' wing it.

So it takes a certain level of chutzpah to know your craft, be prepared, and just be comfortable-- without affectations or gimmicks.

What's the benefit of authenticity? Removing the filter between who you are and how you do you. Because the only person who can really know and satisfy you is you. And that will never happen if you're two steps away from who you really are.

Me, introducing Terry McMillan on July 8, 2014 @Quail Ridge Books

By the way: If you're interested in learning more about book promotion and publicity, put this on your calendar:

• Join publicist Bridgette A. Lacy for her Book Publicity Boot Camp on Saturday, Aug. 2 from 9 a.m. to noon at Quail Ridge Books & Music. The three-hour session will cover how to create an Author Press Kit, A Social Media Strategy for Your Book and How to Build an Audience. For more information, visithttp://www.bridgettelacy.com/events.htm

• Get your copy of Salt in the Sugar Bowl today!

Read a review: www.tinyurl.com/mpsxpjd

When Sophia Sawyer walks away from her six children, she failed to realize that her absence will color their expectations long after their childhoods were over.

What exactly does your mirror have to tell you?

You probably know I'm on this healing journey. I believe our childhood hurts and fears and pains live in our bodies like alien creatures. And like alien creatures, they must be dealt with; otherwise they take over your life and you wonder what the hell happened.

So I deal with issues by a) paying attention to my feelings when they creep out of bounds, and b) catching myself behaving in ways that go against my "personal philosophy." I then spend a bit of time figuring out what happened to pull me off balance. This works for me because: 1) it breaks the habit of having underlying feelings run my life, and 2) I get more insight about who I am at the core and why I do what I do.

Case in point....
I ran into a former student today. We hugged, and she smiled as students do when they meet their teachers in public. The onus is always on the teacher to ask questions and give feedback, etc. I LOVE meeting students in public, so we chatted on and on, then I went to back to my car. Before I pulled off, I caught myself looking in the mirror! Hmmmnnnnn. Then I think! AHA! A little remnant of my abandonment issue! Why? How?

Because abandonment issues (and probably a host of other issues) play out by making the irrelevant relevant. Instead of going with the flow and taking life as it comes, "abandonment survivors" (just coined this phrase) take stock a lot by

• looking in the mirror to see if something's wrong, 
• reviewing a conversation to determine whether we sounded like an idiot, and
• coming up with what could've, should've, would've gone differently.

But my true self cares less than a cent about what I was about to see in the mirror after a random conversation. So I looked away from the mirror and didn't give another thought to what the student saw or what either of us said. 

Because this mental and physical scrutiny is all about that underlying feeling that something unexpected can blindside me and I wind up in an unpleasant place. Maybe I looked like a hoochie in my exercise clothes; maybe sweat had dried and I had eye boogers, etc. My instinct was an expectation of something being wrong, expecting to be judged harshly, or even to be judged favorably. I was about to relinquish my power and give it to somebody/anybody else-- and have her make a difference in my psyche. I mean, really?!

I'm a grown woman, and I have been living long enough to have conversations and interactions all day long without needing an assessment of how I'm doing!  

So this is going to be my homework for the week: Be present when I'm engaged with somebody, then move the heck on. Don't waste my time reflecting or going back over it unless it's for some clearly positive and healthy purpose. 

My AHA experience is this: Before you look in the mirror, ask yourself why you're going there. Most times, you'd be better off just going with the flow and putting yourself all the way into your agenda. Because the truth is that retouching the makeup, recombing that bang, or seeing if that pimple got bigger will not create the experiences you want in life. Trust me on that! 

Don't forget to order a copy of Salt in the Sugar Bowl! See how abandonment issues run rampant as the adult Sawyer children deal with life and love after having being abandoned by their mother, Sophia.  http://www.mainstreetrag.com/store/MSRFiction.php 
$10, plus S&H


"Just finished Salt in the Sugar Bowl. Read it slow to savor every word, every character. As I read from character to character, each became my favorite at the moment. Great story,  one that can be found in any big family. You are an incredible writer, a writer from the heart. Loved that you mentioned Brooklyn, Ft. Greene. Laughed, smiled, smirked in some parts. Can't wait for your next."     
 --Maria Villafane, New Yorker